Читать книгу The Young Pilgrim: A Tale Illustrative of "The Pilgrim's Progress" онлайн

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“I believe,” said the woman, “I never doubted the Bible; I used to read it when I was a child.”

“We will read mine together now, mother.”

“And what more did the clergyman tell you?”

“He told me that the faith which brings us to heaven will be sure to produce—” Mark paused to recall the exact words—“repentance, love, and a holy life.”

“A holy life!” repeated Ann, slowly. Painful thoughts crossed her mind of many things constantly done that ought not to be done, habits hard to be parted with as a right hand or a right eye; holiness seemed something as far beyond her reach as the moon which was now rising in the cloudy sky; she folded her hands with a gloomy smile, and said, “If that be needful, we may as well leave all these fine hopes to those who have some chance of winning what they wish!”

“The way is not shut to us.”

“I tell you that it is,” said the woman, impatiently; for the little gleam of hope that had dawned on her soul had given place to sullen despair. “To be holy you must be truthful and honest—we are placed in a situation where we cannot be truthful, we cannot be honest, we cannot serve God! It is all very well for the rich and the happy; the narrow way to them may be all strewed with flowers, but to us it is closed—and for ever!” She clenched her hand with a gesture of despair.