Life Of John Milton by Richard Garnett (best free novels TXT) 📖
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- Author: Richard Garnett
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Medical Assistance, Evidently Has Little Hope From It. "Whatever Ray Of
Hope May Be For Me From Your Famous Physician, All The Same, As In A
Case Quite Incurable, I Prepare And Compose Myself Accordingly. My
Darkness Hitherto, By The Singular Kindness Of God, Amid Rest And
Studies, And The Voices And Greetings Of Friends, Has Been Much Easier
To Bear Than That Deathly One. But If, As Is Written, 'Man Doth Not Live
By Bread Alone, But By Every Word That Proceedeth Out Of The Mouth Of
God,' What Should Prevent Me From Resting In The Belief That Eyesight
Lies Not In Eyes Alone, But Enough For All Purposes In God's Leading And
Providence? Verily, While Only He Looks Out For Me, And Provides For Me,
As He Doth; Teaching Me And Leading Me Forth With His Hand Through My
Whole Life, I Shall Willingly, Since It Hath Seemed Good To Him, Have
Given My Eyes Their Long Holiday. And To You I Now Bid Farewell, With A
Mind Not Less Brave And Steadfast Than If I Were Lynceus Himself For
Keenness Of Sight." Religion And Philosophy, Of Which No Brighter
Example Was Ever Given, Did Not, In This Sore Trial, Disdain The Support
Of A Manly Pride:--
"What Supports Me, Dost Thou Ask?
The Conscience, Friend, To Have Lost Them Overplied
In Liberty's Defence, My Noble Task,
O! Which All Europe Rings From Side To Side;
This Thought Might Leadrt Them; To The Sinners, And
Raise Them Up. Go To All Nations, And Teach Them All That I Have Told
You. Those Who Believe In Me Will Be Blessed. I Am The Way, The
Truth, And The Life. I Go Now To My Father. My Spirit And My Strength
I Leave To You: Light To The Eyes, The Word To The Tongue, Love To The
Heart. And Mercy To Sinners----"
Thus They Heard Him Speak, And Lo!--There Was No One There Except The
Disciples. Two Footmarks Were Impressed On The Stone. The Heavens
Chapter 6 Pg 63Above Were Still; They Bowed Their Heads, Then Watched How He Ascended
To The Clouds, How He Hovered In The Light, How He Went To The Father,
To Whom Also We Shall Go Through Our Saviour, Jesus Christ.
Chapter 7 Pg 64
My Father And My God! I Thank Thee That Thou Hast Permitted Me To
Behold The Life, The Passion, And The Resurrection Of Thy Son, And To
Steep Myself In His Words And Promises During This Terrible Time. In
The Torture Of Suspense, Which Is More Dreadful Than Death, I Have Won
Courage From The Great Events Of His Life, And Received Consolation
From The Appearance Of My Redeemer Upon Earth. My Hope Has Been
Strengthened By The Saints Of Old Who Repented. For The Sake Of The
Crucified Saviour, O Lord, Put Mercy Into My King's Heart. If It Is
God's Will That I Die, Then Let Me Die Like Dismas. Only Pardon Me.
In The Name Of Jesus, I Implore Thee, O Father, For Mercy! Have Mercy
On Me, A Sinner. Amen.
Conclusion
Such Is The Story. It Was Written By A Common Workman Awaiting
Sentence Of Death In A Prison Cell. The Last Prayer Was Written
Exactly Six Weeks After His Condemnation.
Conrad Began To Feel A Little Frightened. He Had Been So Absorbed In
His Saviour's Story That He Felt Himself To Be Almost Part Of It. He
Had Written It All Day, And Dreamed Of It All Night. He Had Been In
The Stable At Bethlehem, He Had Wandered By The Lake Of Gennesaret, And
Spent Nights In The Wilderness Of Judaea. He Had Journeyed To Sidon,
And Across The Mountains To Jerusalem. He, A Prisoner In Jail And
Sentenced To Death, Had Stood On The Mount Of Olives, He Had Been In
Bethany And Supped At Jesus' Side. But Now He Felt Almost Indifferent
To The Thought. Had He Not Lived Through That Glorious Death At
Golgotha? All Else Sank Into Insignificance Beside That. It Almost
Seemed To Him As If He Had Passed Beyond The Veil. The Risen One
Possessed All His Soul. He Could Not Get Away From All These Holy
Memories. Then Suddenly Came The Thought: When Death Comes I Must Be
Brave. He Remembered A Story His Mother Had Once Told Him Of A Roman
Executioner Who, On Receiving Orders To Behead A Young Christian, Had
Been So Overcome With Pity That He Had Fainted. The Youth Had Revived
Him, And Comforted Him As Bravely As If It Had Been His Duty To Die, As
It Was The Executioner's To Kill. But Then Conrad Told Himself: You
Are A Guilty Creature, And Cannot Compare Yourself With A Saint. Would
You Be Brave Enough To Act Like That? Would You? It Is Sweet To Die
Chapter 8 Pg 65With Jesus, But It Is Still Sweeter To Live With Him.
The Jailer Asked Him If He Would Care To Go Out Once More Into The Open
Air.
Out Into The Air? Out Into The Prison Yard, Where All The Refuse Was
Thrown? No. He Thanked Him; He Would Prefer To Remain In His Cell.
It Could Not Be For Long Now.
"No; It Will Not Be For Long Now," Said The Old Man. But He Did Not
Tell Him That In The Meantime The Chancellor Had Died Of His Wounds,
Although From The "Old Grumbler's" Increased Tenderness Conrad Might
Have Suspected That His Case Did Not Stand In A Favourable Light.
"If You Are Truly Brave," The Old Man Told Him, "The Next Time You Go
Out You Shall Walk Under Green Trees."
"But Now? Not Now?" Conrad Thought Of A Reprieve, And Grew Excited.
A Red Flush Stained His Cheeks.
"No; I Did Not Mean That. You Know The King Is Far Away. But It May
Come Any Time. I Am Waiting For It Anxiously. You Know, Ferleitner,
After This I Shall Resign My Post."
At That Moment The Priest Came In. He Always Enteredhis I Shall Resign My The Dark Cell
With A Cheerful Face And A Glad "God Be With You!" It Was His Office
To Bring Comfort, If Only He Had Known How. As A Rule The Monk Came
In, Wiping The Perspiration From His Brow With A Coarse Blue
Handkerchief, And Loudly Assuring The Prisoner How Pleasantly Cool It
Was In His Cell. But This Time He Was Nervous And Ill At Ease. How
Did The Prisoner Look? Emaciated To A Skeleton, His Teeth Prominent
Between Fleshless Lips, His Eyes Wide Open, A Wondrous Fire Burning In
Their Depths.
"As You Will Never Send For Me, My Dear Ferleitner, I Have Come Again
Unasked To See How You Fare. You Are Not Ill?"
"Has The Sentence Come?" Asked The Prisoner.
"Not That I Know Of," Answered The Monk; "But I See I Am Disturbing You
At Your Work."
Conrad Had Neglected To Put Away The Sheets He Had Written, And So Had
To Confess That He Had Been Writing.
"Isn't It Too Dark To See To Write Here?"
"You Get Accustomed To It. At First It Was Dark, But Now It Seems To
Get Lighter And Lighter."
"So You've Made Your Will At Last?" Asked The Father, Raising His
Eyebrows. He Meant To Be Humorous.
Chapter 8 Pg 66
"A Sort Of One!"
"Let's See, Then. You Have Something To Leave?"
"I Have Not. Another Has."
The Father Turned Over The Sheets, Read A Line Here And There, Shook
His Shaven Head A Little, And Said "It Seems To Resemble The New
Testament. Have You Been Copying It From The Gospel?"
"No, I Haven't Got A New Testament. That's Why I Had To Write This For
Myself."
"This Gospel! You've Written One For Yourself Out Of Your Own Head?"
"Not Exactly. Well, Perhaps Now And Then I Have. I've Written What I
Could Remember. I Will Be Responsible For The Errors."
"My Curiosity Grows," Cried The Father. "May I Read It?"
"It's Not Worth Your Trouble, But I Knew Of Nothing Else To Help Me."
"The Work Has Exhausted You, Ferleitner."
"No; On The Contrary, I May Almost Say It Has Revived Me. I'm Sorry It
Is Finished. I Thought Of Nothing Else; I Forgot Everything."
His Enthusiasm Has Consumed Him, Thought The Monk.
"Ferleitner, Will You Let Me Take It Away With Me For A Few Days?"
Conrad Shyly Gave Permission. The Monk Gathered The Sheets Together,
And Thrust Them Carelessly Into His Pouch, So That The Roll Stuck Out
At The Top. When He Had Gone, Conrad Gazed Sadly Into Emptiness And
Longed For His Manuscript. How Happy He Had Been With It All Those
Weeks! What Would The Priest Think Of It? Everything Would Be Wrong.
Such People See Their God With Other Eyes Than Ours. And If He
Criticised It, All The Pleasure Would Go Out Of It.
But Conrad Did Not Have To Do Without It Long. The Father Brought It
Back The Next Morning. He Had Begun To Read It The Evening Before, And
Had Sat Up All Night To Finish It. But He Would Not Give His Opinion,
And Conrad Did Not Ask For It. Almost Helplessly, They Sat At The
Rough Table, While The Monk Tried To Think How He Could Express His
Thoughts. After A While, He Took Up The Manuscript, Laid It Down
Again, And Said That Of Course, From The Ecclesiastical Point Of View,
There Would Naturally Be Some Objections.
"The Details Of The History Are Not Altogether Correct. I Know,
Ferleitner, That You Asked Me For A Copy Of The New Testament. If I
Had Known That You Had Gone So Far, I Would Willingly Have Given You
One. But Perhaps It Is Better So. Though I Must Tell You, Conrad
Ferleitner, That Nothing
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