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The Story of My Heart - An Autobiography by Richard Jefferies
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THE STORY OF MY HEART
AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY

by RICHARD JEFFERIES




CHAPTER I

THE story of my heart commences seventeen years ago. In the glow
of youth there were times every now and then when I felt the
necessity of a strong inspiration of soulthought. My heart was
dusty, parched for want of the rain of deep feeling; my mind arid and dry,
for there is a dust which settles on the heart as well as that which falls
on a ledge. It is injurious to the mind as well as to the body to be always
in one place and always surrounded by the same circumstances. A species of
thick clothing slowly grows about the mind, the pores are choked, little
habits become a part of existence, and by degrees the mind is inclosed in a
husk.
When this began to form I felt eager to escape from it, to throw off the
heavy clothing, to drink deeply once more at the fresh fountations of life.
An inspiration--a long deep breath of the pure air of thought--could alone
give health to the heart.

There is a hill to which I used to resort at such periods. The labour of
walking three miles to it, all the while gradually ascending, seemed to
clear my blood of the heaviness accumulated at home. On a warm summer day
the slow continued rise required continual effort, which caried away the
sense of oppression. The familiar everyday scene was soon out of sight; I
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