Lavengro by George Borrow (read me a book txt) 📕

impulse, I rushed into the depths of a neighbouring wood, and, falling upon my knees, did what I had not done for a long time⁠—prayed to God.

“A change, an entire change, seemed to have come over me. I was no longer gloomy and despairing, but gay and happy. My slumbers were light and easy; not disturbed, as before, by frightful dreams. I arose with the lark, and like him uttered a cheerful song of praise to God, frequently and earnestly, and was particularly cautious not to do anything which I considered might cause His displeasure.

“At church I was constant, and when there listened with deepest attention to every word which proceeded from the mouth of the minister. In a little time it appeared to me that I had become a good, very good young man. At times the recollection of the sin would return, and I would feel a momentary chill; but the thought quickly vanished, and I again felt happy and secure.

“One Sunday morning, after I had said my prayers, I felt particularly joyous. I thought of the innocent and virtuous life I was leading; and when the recollection of the sin intruded for a moment, I said, ‘I am sure God will never utterly cast away so good a creature as myself.’ I went to church, and was as usual attentive. The subject of the sermon was on the duty of searching the Scriptures: all I knew of them was from the Liturgy. I now, however, determined to read them, and perfect the good work which I had begun. My father’s Bible was upon the shelf, and on that evening I took it with me to my chamber. I placed it on the table, and sat down. My heart was filled with pleasing anticipation. I opened the book at random, and began to read; the first passage on which my eyes lighted was the following⁠—

“ ‘He who committeth the sin against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven, either in this world or the next.’ ”

Here Peter was seized with convulsive tremors. Winifred sobbed violently. I got up, and went away. Returning in about a quarter of an hour, I found him more calm; he motioned me to sit down; and, after a short pause, continued his narration.

LXXVI

“Where was I, young man? Oh, I remember, at the fatal passage which removed all hope. I will not dwell on what I felt. I closed my eyes, and wished that I might be dreaming; but it was no dream, but a terrific reality. I will not dwell on that period, I should only shock you. I could not bear my feelings; so, bidding my friends a hasty farewell, I abandoned myself to horror and despair, and ran wild through Wales, climbing mountains and wading streams.

“Climbing mountains and wading streams, I ran wild about; I was burnt by the sun, drenched by the rain, and had frequently at night no other covering than the sky, or the humid roof of some cave. But nothing seemed to affect my constitution, probably the fire which burned within me counteracted what I suffered from without. During the space of three years I scarcely knew what befel me; my life was a dream⁠—a wild, horrible dream; more than once I believe I was in the hands of robbers, and once in the hands of gypsies. I liked the last description of people least of all; I could not abide their yellow faces, or their ceaseless clabber. Escaping from these beings whose countenances and godless discourse brought to my mind the demons of the deep Unknown, I still ran wild through Wales, I know not how long. On one occasion, coming in some degree to my recollection, I felt myself quite unable to bear the horrors of my situation; looking round I found myself near the sea; instantly the idea came into my head that I would cast myself into it, and thus anticipate my final doom. I hesitated a moment, but a voice within me seemed to tell me that I could do no better; the sea was near, and I could not swim, so I determined to fling myself into the sea. As I was running along at great speed, in the direction of a lofty rock, which beetled over the waters, I suddenly felt myself seized by the coat. I strove to tear myself away, but in vain; looking round, I perceived a venerable, hale old man, who had hold of me. ‘Let me go!’ said I fiercely. ‘I will not let thee go,’ said the old man, and now, instead of with one, he grappled me with both hands. ‘In whose name dost them detain me?’ said I, scarcely knowing what I said. ‘In the name of my Master, who made thee and yonder sea, and has said to the sea, so far shalt thou come, and no farther, and to thee, thou shalt do no murder.’ ‘Has not a man a right to do what he pleases with his own?’ said I. ‘He has,’ said the old man, ‘but thy life is not thy own; thou art accountable for it to thy God. Nay, I will not let thee go,’ he continued, as I again struggled; ‘if thou struggle with me the whole day I will not let thee go, as Charles Wesley says in his Wrestlings of Jacob; and see, it is of no use struggling, for I am, in the strength of my Master, stronger than thou;’ and, indeed, all of a sudden I had become very weak and exhausted; whereupon the old man, beholding my situation, took me by the arm and led me gently to a neighbouring town, which stood behind a hill, and which I had not before observed; presently he opened the door of a respectable-looking house, which stood beside a large building having the appearance of a chapel, and conducted me into a small room, with a great many books