By some inexplicable connection a line in Shakspeare occurred to me, and I wrote,-- "My poverty, but not my will, consents." The sentiment conveyed in this line powerfully affected him, but in a way which I could not then comprehend.

I collected from subsequent events that the inference was not unfavourable to my understanding or my morals.

He questioned me as to my history.

I related my origin and my inducements to desert my father's house.

With respect to last night's adventures I was silent.