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 thou
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 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