Crossing them, he ascended an eminence, which, from its singular shape, seems to have been the site of a Roman encampment, and which commands a magnificent prospect.
Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley.

It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him.

He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn.

There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,--in those fields she had rambled,--at that church she had prayed.
And he had destroyed all this.

But for him she might have been alive and happy.