The lonely garret did not appear so repulsive as usual.

No one would disturb its gloomy solitude, or intrude upon my grief.

There I had free liberty to weep--to vent aloud, if I pleased, the indignant feelings of my heart.
My mind was overwhelmed with bitter and resentful thoughts; every evil passion was struggling for mastery, and the worst agony I was called upon to endure, was the hopeless, heart-crushing, downward tending madness of despair.
To die--to get rid of self, the dark consciousness of unmerited contempt and social degradation, was the temptation which continually flitted through my excited brain.

I have often since wondered how I resisted the strong impulse which lured me onward to destruction.
My good angel prevailed.

By mere accident, my Bible lay upon the iron chest.