’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, 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.

CHAPTER LXXVI

Hasty farewell—­Lofty rock—­Wrestlings of Jacob—­No rest—­Ways of Providence—­Two females—­Foot of the Cross—­Enemy of souls—­Perplexed—­Lucky hour—­Valetudinarian—­Methodists—­Fervent in prayer—­You Saxons—­Weak creatures—­Very agreeable—­Almost happy—­Kindness and solicitude.

’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 befell 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