Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and IncidentsBeckford, William
General
Dreams, Waking Thoughts, and Incidents
Beckford, William
Beckford, William, 1760-1844
Being wholly intent on futurity, the bustle and tumults of a busy
metropolis became so irksome that he supplicated Urban for leave to
retire; and, having obtained it, left Rome, and immediately seeking the
wilds of Calabria, there sequestered himself in a lonely hermitage,
calmly expecting his last moments. Many are the miracles which he
wrought and which his canonized bones have since effected: angels (it is
said), hovered round him in his departing hour, and bore him on their
wings to heaven. The different accounts of his translation are almost
endless; and as they are all nearly in the same style, it will be
needless to recite them.
I had scarcely finished taking extracts from the life and writings of St.
Bruno when the dinner appeared, consisting of everything most delicate
which a strict adherence to the rules of meagre could allow. The good
fathers returned as usual with the dessert, and served up an admirable
dish of miracles, well seasoned with the devil and prettily garnished
with angels and moonbeams. {284}
Our conversation was interrupted, very agreeably, by the sudden intrusion
of the sun, which, escaping from the clouds, shone in full splendour
above the highest peak of the mountains, and the vapours fleeting by
degrees discovered the woods in all the freshness of their verdure. The
pleasure I received from seeing this new creation rising to view was very
lively, and, as the fathers assured me the humidity of their walks did
not often continue longer than the showers, I left my hall.
Crossing the court, I hastened out of the gates, and running swiftly
along a winding path on the side of the meadow, bordered by the forests,
enjoyed the charms of the prospect, inhaled the perfume of the woodlands,
and now turning towards the summits of the precipices that encircled this
sacred inclosure, admired the glowing colours they borrowed from the sun,
contrasted by the dark hues of the forest. Now, casting my eyes below, I
suffered them to roam from valley to valley, and from one stream (beset
with tall pines and tufted beech trees) to another. The purity of the
air in these exalted regions, and the lightness of my own spirits, almost
seized me with the idea of treading in that element.
Not content with the distant beauties of the hanging rocks and falling
waters, I still kept running wildly along, with an eagerness and rapidity
that, to a sober spectator, would have given me the appearance of one
possessed, and with reason, for I was affected with the scene to a degree
I despair of expressing.
Whilst I was continuing my course, pursued by a thousand strange ideas, a
father, who was returning from some distant hermitage, stopped my career,
and made signs for me to repose myself on a bench erected under a
neighbouring shed; and, perceiving my agitation and disordered looks,
fancied, I believe, that one of the bears that lurk near the snows of the
mountains had alarmed me by his sudden appearance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account