saw that it
would be speedily necessary, in the event of my continuing to reside in
the dingle, to lay in a fresh store. After my meal I went to the pit,
and filled a can with water, which I brought to the dingle, and then
again sat down on my stone. I considered what I should next do: it was
necessary to do something, or my life in this solitude would be
unsupportable. What should I do? rouse up my forge and fashion a
horseshoe; but I wanted nerve and heart for such an employment; moreover,
I had no motive for fatiguing myself in this manner; my own horse was
shod, no other was at hand, and it is hard to work for the sake of
working. What should I do? read? Yes, but I had no other book than the
Bible which the Welsh Methodist had given me: well, why not read the
Bible? I was once fond of reading the Bible; ay, but those days were
long gone by. However, I did not see what else I could do on the present
occasion--so I determined to read the Bible--it was in Welsh; at any rate
it might amuse me, so I took the Bible out of the sack, in which it was
lying in the cart, and began to read at the place where I chanced to open
it. I opened it at the part where the history of Saul commences. At
first I read with indifference, but after some time my attention was
riveted. And no wonder: I had come to the visitations of Saul, those
dark moments of his, when he did and said such unaccountable things; it
almost appeared to me that I was reading of myself; I, too, had my
visitations, dark as ever his were. O, how I sympathized with Saul, the
tall dark man! I had read his life before, but it had made no impression
on me; it had never occurred to me that I was like him, but I now
sympathized with Saul, for my own dark hour was but recently passed, and,
perhaps, would soon return again; the dark hour came frequently on Saul.

Time wore away; I finished the book of Saul, and, closing the volume,
returned it to its place. I then returned to my seat on the stone, and
thought of what I had read, and what I had lately undergone. All at once
I thought I felt well-known sensations--a cramping of the breast, and a
tingling of the soles of the feet--they were what I had felt on the
preceding day; they were the forerunners of the fear. I sat motionless
on my stone; the sensations passed away, and the fear came not. Darkness
was now coming again over the earth; the dingle was again in deep shade.
I roused the fire with the breath of