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relief which I found were accessible, even when labouring under the
heaviest misfortune; to bear witness, moreover, that in the midst of
my acute and protracted torments, I never found humanity, in the
human instruments around me, so hopelessly wicked, so unworthy of
consideration, or so barren of noble minds in lowly station, as it
is customary to represent it; to engage, if possible, all the
generous and good-hearted to love and esteem each other, to become
incapable of hating any one; to feel irreconcilable hatred only
towards low, base falsehood; cowardice, perfidy, and every kind of
moral degradation. It is my object to impress on all that well-
known but too often forgotten truth, namely, that both religion and
philosophy require calmness of judgment combined with energy of
will, and that without such a union, there can be no real justice,
no dignity of character, and no sound principles of human action.



MY TEN YEARS' IMPRISONMENT



CHAPTER I.



On Friday, the 15th of October, 1820, I was arrested at Milan, and
conveyed to the prison of Santa Margherita. The hour was three in
the afternoon. I underwent a long examination, which occupied the
whole of that and several subsequent days; but of this I shall say
nothing. Like some unfortunate lover, harshly dealt with by her he
adored, yet resolved to bear it with dignified silence, I leave la
Politica, such as SHE IS, and proceed to something else.

At nine in the evening of that same unlucky Friday, the actuary
consigned me to the jailer, who conducted me to my appointed
residence. He there politely requested me to give up my watch, my
money, and everything in my pockets, which were to be restored to me
in due time; saying which he respectfully bade me good-night.

"Stop, my dear sir," I observed, "I have not yet dined; let me have
something to eat."

"Directly; the inn is close by, and you will find the wine good,
sir."

"Wine I do not drink."

At this announcement Signor Angiolino gave me a look of unfeigned
surprise; he imagined that I was jesting. "Masters of prisons," he
rejoined, "who keep shop, have a natural horror of an abstemious
captive."

"That may be; I don't drink it."

"I am sorry for you, sir; you will feel solitude twice as heavily."

But perceiving that I was firm, he took his leave; and in half an
hour I had something to eat. I took a mouthful, swallowed a glass
of water, and found myself alone. My chamber was on the ground
floor, and overlooked the court-yard. Dungeons here, dungeons
there, to the right, to the left, above, below, and opposite,
everywhere met my eye. I leaned against the window, listened to the
passing and repassing of the jailers, and the wild song of a number
of the unhappy inmates. A century ago, I reflected, and this was a
monastery; little then thought the pious, penitent recluses that
their cells would now re-echo only to the sounds of blasphemy and

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