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

committed it. How could I hope? The Scriptures could not lie, and yet here was this good old man, profoundly versed in the Scriptures, who bade me hope; would he lie? No. But did the old man know my case? Ah, no, he did not know my case! but yet he had bid me hope, whatever I had done, provided I would go to Jesus. But how could I think of going to Jesus, when the Scriptures told me plainly that all would be useless? I was perplexed, and yet a ray of hope began to dawn in my soul. I thought of consulting the good man, but I was afraid he would drive away the small glimmer. I was afraid he would say, ‘Oh, yes, everyone is to be saved, except a wretch like you; I was not aware before that there was anything so horrible⁠—begone!’ Once or twice the old man questioned me on the subject of my misery, but I evaded him; once, indeed, when he looked particularly benevolent, I think I should have unbosomed myself to him, but we were interrupted. He never pressed me much; perhaps he was delicate in probing my mind, as we were then of different persuasions. Hence he advised me to seek the advice of some powerful minister in my own church; there were many such in it, he said.

“I stayed several days in the family, during which time I more than once heard my venerable friend preach; each time he preached he exhorted his hearers not to despair. The whole family were kind to me; his wife frequently discoursed with me, and also the young person to whom I have already alluded. It appeared to me that the latter took a peculiar interest in my fate.

“At last my friend said to me: ‘It is now time thou shouldst return to thy mother and thy brother.’ So I arose, and departed to my mother and my brother; and at my departure my old friend gave me his blessing, and his wife and the young person shed tears, the last especially. And when my mother saw me, she shed tears, and fell on my neck and kissed me, and my brother took me by the hand and bade me welcome; and when our first emotions were subsided, my mother said: ‘I trust thou art come in a lucky hour. A few weeks ago my cousin (whose favourite thou always wast) died and left thee his heir⁠—left thee the goodly farm in which he lived. I trust, my son, that thou wilt now settle, and be a comfort to me in my old days.’ And I answered: ‘I will, if so please the Lord’; and I said to myself, ‘God grant that this bequest be a token of the Lord’s favour.’

“And in a few days I departed to take possession of my farm; it was about twenty miles from my mother’s house, in a beautiful but rather wild district; I arrived at the fall of the leaf. All day long I busied myself with my farm, and thus kept my mind employed. At night, however, I felt rather solitary, and I frequently wished for a companion. Each night and morning I prayed fervently unto the Lord; for His hand had been very heavy upon me, and I feared Him.

“There was one thing connected with my new abode, which gave me considerable uneasiness⁠—the want of spiritual instruction. There was a church, indeed, close at hand, in which service was occasionally performed, but in so hurried and heartless a manner that I derived little benefit from it. The clergyman to whom the benefice belonged was a valetudinarian, who passed his time in London, or at some watering-place, entrusting the care of his flock to the curate of a distant parish, who gave himself very little trouble about the matter. Now, I wanted every Sunday to hear from the pulpit words of consolation and encouragement, similar to those which I had heard uttered from the pulpit by my good and venerable friend, but I was debarred from this privilege. At length, one day being in conversation with one of my labourers, a staid and serious man, I spoke to him of the matter which lay heavy upon my mind; whereupon, looking me wistfully in the face, he said: ‘Master, the want of religious instruction in my church was what drove me to the Methodists.’ ‘The Methodists,’ said I; ‘are there any in these parts?’ ‘There is a chapel,’ said he, ‘only half a mile distant, at which there are two services every Sunday, and other two during the week.’ Now, it happened that my venerable friend was of the Methodist persuasion, and when I heard the poor man talk in this manner, I said to him: ‘May I go with you next Sunday?’ ‘Why not?’ said he; so I went with the labourer on the ensuing Sabbath to the meeting of the Methodists.

“I liked the preaching which I heard at the chapel very well, though it was not quite so comfortable as that of my old friend, the preacher being in some respects a different kind of man. It, however, did me good, and I went again, and continued to do so, though I did not become a regular member of the body at that time.

“I had now the benefit of religious instruction, and also to a certain extent of religious fellowship, for the preacher and various members of his flock frequently came to see me. They were honest, plain men, not exactly of the description which I wished for, but still good sort of people, and I was glad to see them. Once on a time, when some of them were with me, one of them inquired whether I was fervent in prayer. ‘Very fervent,’ said I. ‘And do you read the Scriptures often?’ said he. ‘No,’ said I. ‘Why not?’ said he. ‘Because I am afraid to see there my own condemnation.’ They looked