Lavengro, George Borrow [i love reading books txt] 📗

in it. Having caused me to sit down, he stood looking at me for some time, occasionally heaving a sigh. I was, indeed, haggard and forlorn. ‘Who art thou?’ he said at last. ‘A miserable man,’ I replied. ‘What makes thee miserable?’ said the old man. ‘A hideous crime,’ I replied. ‘I can find no rest; like Cain, I wander here and there.’ The old man turned pale. ‘Hast thou taken another’s life?’ said he; ‘if so, I advise thee to surrender thyself to the magistrate; thou canst do no better; thy doing so will be the best proof of thy repentance; and though there be no hope for thee in this world there may be much in the next.’ ‘No,’ said I, ‘I have never taken another’s life.’ ‘What then, another’s goods? If so, restore them sevenfold if possible: or, if it be not in thy power, and thy conscience accuse thee, surrender thyself to the magistrate, and make the only satisfaction thou art able.’ ‘I have taken no one’s goods,’ said I. ‘Of what art thou guilty, then?’ said he. ‘Art thou a drunkard? a profligate?’ ‘Alas, no,’ said I; ‘I am neither of these; would that I were no worse!’

“Thereupon the old man looked steadfastly at me for some time; then, after appearing to reflect, he said: ‘Young man, I have a great desire to know your name.’ ‘What matters it to you what is my name?’ said I; ‘you know nothing of me.’ ‘Perhaps you are mistaken,’ said the old man, looking kindly at me; ‘but at all events tell me your name.’ I hesitated a moment, and then told him who I was, whereupon he exclaimed with much emotion, ‘I thought so; how wonderful are the ways of Providence! I have heard of thee, young man, and know thy mother well. Only a month ago, when upon a journey, I experienced much kindness from her. She was speaking to me of her lost child, with tears; she told me that you were one of the best of sons, but that some strange idea appeared to have occupied your mind. Despair not, my son. If thou hast been afflicted, I doubt not but that thy affliction will eventually turn out to thy benefit; I doubt not but that thou wilt be preserved, as an example of the great mercy of God. I will now kneel down and pray for thee, my son.’

“He knelt down, and prayed long and fervently. I remained standing for some time; at length I knelt down likewise. I scarcely knew what he was saying, but when he concluded I said ‘Amen.’

“And when we had risen from our knees, the old man left me for a short time, and on his return led me into another room, where were two females; one was an elderly person, the wife of the old man, the other was a young woman of very prepossessing appearance (hang not down thy head, Winifred), who I soon found was a distant relation of the old man. Both received me with great kindness, the old man having doubtless previously told them who I was.

“I stayed several days in the good man’s house. I had still the greater portion of a small sum which I happened to have about me when I departed on my dolorous wandering, and with this I purchased clothes, and altered my appearance considerably. On the evening of the second day, my friend said: ‘I am going to preach, perhaps you will come and hear me.’ I consented, and we all went, not to a church, but to the large building next the house; for the old man, though a clergyman, was not of the established persuasion, and there the old man mounted a pulpit, and began to preach. ‘Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,’ etc., etc., was his text. His sermon was long, but I still bear the greater portion of it in my mind.

“The substance of it was that Jesus was at all times ready to take upon Himself the burden of our sins, provided we came to Him with a humble and contrite spirit, and begged His help. This doctrine was new to me; I had often been at church, but had never heard it preached before, at least so distinctly. When he said that all men might be saved, I shook, for I expected he would add, all except those who had committed the mysterious sin; but no, all men were to be saved who with a humble and contrite spirit would come to Jesus, cast themselves at the foot of His cross, and accept pardon through the merits of His blood-shedding alone. ‘Therefore, my friends,’ said he, in conclusion, ‘despair not⁠—however guilty you may be, despair not⁠—however desperate your condition may seem,’ said he, fixing his eyes upon me, ‘despair not. There is nothing more foolish and more wicked than despair; overweening confidence is not more foolish than despair; both are the favourite weapons of the enemy of souls.’

“This discourse gave rise in my mind to no slight perplexity. I had read in the Scriptures that he who committeth a certain sin shall never be forgiven, and that there is no hope for him either in this world or the next. And here was a man, a good man certainly, and one who, of necessity, was thoroughly acquainted with the Scriptures, who told me that anyone might be forgiven, however wicked, who would only trust in Christ and in the merits of His blood-shedding. Did I believe in Christ? Ay, truly. Was I willing to be saved by Christ? Ay, truly. Did I trust in Christ? I trusted that Christ would save everyone but myself. And why not myself? simply because the Scriptures had told me that he who has committed the sin against the Holy Ghost can never be saved, and I had committed the sin against the Holy Ghost⁠—perhaps the only one who ever had