I have a library there, in which are many curious books, both in Greek and Hebrew, which I will show to thee, whenever thou mayest find it convenient to come and see me.
Farewell! I am glad to find that thou hast pursuits more satisfactory than thy cruel fishing." And the man of peace departed, and left me on the bank of the stream.
Whether from the effect of his words, or from want of inclination to the sport, I know not, but from that day I became less and less a practitioner of that "cruel fishing." I rarely flung line and angle into the water, but I not unfrequently wandered by the banks of the pleasant rivulet.

It seems singular to me, on reflection, that I never availed myself of his kind invitation.

I say singular, for the extraordinary, under whatever form, had long had no slight interest for me: and I had discernment enough to perceive that yon was no common man.

Yet I went not near him, certainly not from bashfulness, or timidity, feelings to which I had long been an entire stranger.

Am I to regret this?
perhaps, for I might have learned both wisdom and righteousness from those calm, quiet lips, and my after-course might have been widely different.