The conditions of confined space, seclusion, and solitude in a small four-roomed cottage were favourable to his inspiration.

It was like being in prison, except that one was never disturbed for the odious purpose of taking exercise according to the tyrannical regulations of his old home in the penitentiary.

He could not tell whether the sun still shone on the earth or not.

The perspiration of the literary labour dropped from his brow.

A delightful enthusiasm urged him on.