The expression, however, which would chiefly have interested a beholder, was that of settled and profound melancholy. It filled his thoughts for the rest of the day, and became an obsession. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. Full twenty highwaymen blithe and bold, Rattled their chains in that dungeon old; Of all that number there 'scaped not one Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone. Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted.
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