Читать книгу Charles Peace, or The Adventures of a Notorious Burglar онлайн

878 страница из 895

He turned the page, and read on.

It was a book which had been written by a good and earnest teacher for the assistance of those who might be under some peculiar temptation, or on the threshold of some great crime.

It was written in simple but beautiful language.

It was written with the heart as well as the pen.

Every word in the book was a good spirit, which flew towards the poor soul tottering on the brink of the abyss, and which held it back with tender arms, and whispered to it to turn back and be saved.

When he had read this book the poor lad sank into a calm and refreshing sleep, and awoke in the morning determined to be honest and industrious, and to think of thieving no more.

But he was still too proud to pray.

He relied upon his own heart, which he thought was strong, but which yielded and broke beneath him like a wooden plank which had been rotten and decayed.

He little knew how difficult it is to repent.

Remorse is only regret. Repentance is to regret and amend.

That very day he cheated a customer, and chose to believe that he had not done very wrong.