RECOLLECTIONS OF POVERTV. 177 



a stern-looking man, who, without noticing me, examined and 

 marked all the movables which were left in the house. He then went 

 away. There was something so repulsive in his manners and coun- 

 tenance that I dared not speak to him. Soon he returned, but not 

 alone ; two men of like appearance with himself were with him. In 

 the most unconcerned manner, they removed each article of furniture. 



" I stood by all the time in speechless anxiety. They had already 

 stripped the house, and were looking around lest any thing should 

 have escaped their notice, when by chance one of them espied a 

 small portrait of my mother, which was suspended in an obscure cor- 

 ner of the room. He hastily and roughly tore it down. It was the 

 only relic of my departed parent, one which I had always regarded 

 with veneration and love. I could not bear to see it thus rudely 

 treated. I snatched it from his hand, and pressed it to my bosom. 

 He easily extricated it from my grasp. In vain I cried and entreated 

 him to leave it with me. He coolly remarked that I did not understand 

 these things, and threw it to the heap they had already obtained. 

 They had completed their work and were about to depart. They 

 roughly told me to leave the house. It was in vain to resist. In a few 

 moments the door was closed upon me for ever. 



" It was in the month of January, on one of the most inclement 

 days of the severe winter of 182 , that I was alone in the streets of 

 London. I hurried I knew not whither. I gazed earnestly on the 

 passers by, but no one noticed me. The vehicles of the great, whirling 

 along in splendour and comfort their luxurious occupants, drove 

 gaily past ; the mansions of the wealthy, in all their grandeur and 

 magnificence, reared their proud fronts on every side, but they were 

 nought to me. Did I cast a longing eye towards these abodes of com- 

 fort and plenty '? they seemed to frown me away, a houseless wanderer, 

 unpitied and unknown. Evening came on, and nature exhausted 

 could bear no more. I sat down on a stone step, hungry, cold, and 

 faint. I could not weep. I felt then, that intensity of suffering 

 which absorbs all minor feelings, and chokes up the avenues through 

 which the mind, pouring forth complaints and tears, relieves herself 

 of her load of sorrow. My brain became'eonfused. I knew no more. 

 When consciousness returned, I found myself in a parish workhouse. 

 I had been conveyed thither insensible. Long and continued ill- 

 health confined me in that abode of wretchedness for more than four 

 years. I will not trouble you with relating what occurred to me 

 during that long and monotonous time, but will hasten to conclude the 

 history of my short, but unfortunate life. At present, however, I 

 cannot enter on this part of my narrative. There are circumstances 

 connected with it on which I dare not now dwell ; nay, even in my 

 most cheerful moments, if the recollection of them steal over me, an 

 indescribable feeling of horror and dread seizes on my mind, subsid- 

 ing only to be followed by a deep and lasting melancholy. " 



Three days afterwards I was at her bed side. She was no longer 

 the same; that animation which had hitherto supported her had 

 vanished ; that energy of manner which on former occasions had 

 imparted new interest to her relation was not present. Her mind 



