Портрет художника в юности
Chapter 3
Theoldandwearyvoicefelllikesweetrainuponhisquakingparchingheart.Howsweetandsad!
—Dosomypoorchild.Thedevilhasledyouastray.Drivehimbacktohellwhenhetemptsyoutodishonouryourbodyinthatway—thefoulspiritwhohatesourLord.PromiseGodnowthatyouwillgiveupthatsin,thatwretchedwretchedsin.
BlindedbyhistearsandbythelightofGod’smercifulnesshebenthisheadandheardthegravewordsofabsolutionspokenandsawthepriest’shandraisedabovehimintokenofforgiveness.
—Godblessyou,mychild.Prayforme.
Heknelttosayhispenance,prayinginacornerofthedarknave;andhisprayersascendedtoheavenfromhispurifiedheartlikeperfumestreamingupwardsfromaheartofwhiterose.
Themuddystreetsweregay.Hestrodehomeward,consciousofaninvisiblegracepervadingandmakinglighthislimbs.Inspiteofallhehaddoneit.HehadconfessedandGodhadpardonedhim.Hissoulwasmadefairandholyoncemore,holyandhappy.
ItwouldbebeautifultodieifGodsowilled.Itwasbeautifultoliveingracealifeofpeaceandvirtueandforbearancewithothers.
Hesatbythefireinthekitchen,notdaringtospeakforhappiness.Tillthatmomenthehadnotknownhowbeautifulandpeacefullifecouldbe.Thegreensquareofpaperpinnedroundthelampcastdownatendershade
