The Romany Rye: A sequel to "Lavengro"Borrow, George
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The Romany Rye: A sequel to "Lavengro"
Borrow, George
Adventure stories; England -- Fiction; Romanies -- Fiction
I DESCENDED to the bottom of the dingle. It was nearly involved in
obscurity. To dissipate the feeling of melancholy which came over my
mind, I resolved to kindle a fire; and having heaped dry sticks upon my
hearth, and added a billet or two, I struck a light, and soon produced a
blaze. Sitting down, I fixed my eyes upon the blaze, and soon fell into
a deep meditation. I thought of the events of the day, the scene at
church, and what I had heard at church, the danger of losing one’s soul,
the doubts of Jasper Petulengro as to whether one had a soul. I thought
over the various arguments which I had either heard, or which had come
spontaneously to my mind, for or against the probability of a state of
future existence. They appeared to me to be tolerably evenly balanced.
I then thought that it was at all events taking the safest part to
conclude that there was a soul. It would be a terrible thing, after
having passed one’s life in the disbelief of the existence of a soul, to
wake up after death a soul, and to find one’s self a lost soul. Yes,
methought I would come to the conclusion that one has a soul. Choosing
the safe side, however, appeared to me to be playing a rather dastardly
part. I had never been an admirer of people who chose the safe side in
everything; indeed I had always entertained a thorough contempt for them.
Surely it would be showing more manhood to adopt the dangerous side, that
of disbelief; I almost resolved to do so, but yet in a question of so
much importance, I ought not to be guided by vanity. The question was
not which was the safe, but the true side? yet how was I to know which
was the true side? Then I thought of the Bible—which I had been reading
in the morning—that spoke of the soul and a future state; but was the
Bible true? I had heard learned and moral men say that it was true, but
I had also heard learned and moral men say that it was not: how was I to
decide? Still that balance of probabilities! If I could but see the way
of truth, I would follow it, if necessary, upon hands and knees; on that
I was determined; but I could not see it. Feeling my brain begin to turn
round, I resolved to think of something else; and forthwith began to
think of what had passed between Ursula and myself in our discourse
beneath the hedge.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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