74 THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. 



it was many months before he could sit up 

 and write to his aunt in pencil. He was at 

 this time greatly under the influence of religion, 

 and his letters are full of a boyish, simple piety. 

 The hand of God is directing him, guiding 

 him, punishing him. His heart is soft in 

 thinking over the many consolations which 

 his prayers have brought him, and of the 

 increased benefit which he has derived from 

 reading the Bible. He has passed through, he 

 confesses, a period of scepticism, but that, he is 

 happy to say, is now gone, never to return again. 



He is able to get out of bed at last ; he can 

 read a little, though his eyes are weak ; he can 

 once more return to his old habits, and drinks 

 his tea again as sweet as he can make it; he is 

 able presently to seize his pen again. And 

 then . . . then ... is he not going to be 

 a great author? And who knows in what 

 direction ? . . . then he begins a tragedy called 

 " Caesar Borgia ; or, The King of Crime." 



He is touched by the thoughtfulness of the 

 cottagers. They have all called to ask after 

 him ; they have brought him honey. He re- 

 solves to cultivate the poor people more. 



