Chapter 21

The second hermitage, for I give them in the order they are usually visited, is that of _St. Catharine_, situated in a deep and solitary vale: it however commands a most extensive and pleasing prospect, at noon-day, to the East and West. The buildings, garden, &c. are confined within small limits, being fixed in a most picturesque and secure recess under the foot of one of the high pines. Though this hermit's habitation is the most retired and solitary abode of any, and far removed from the _din_ of men, yet the courteous, affable, and sprightly inhabitant, seems not to feel the loss of human society, though no man, I think, can be a greater ornament to human nature. If he is not much accustomed to hear the voice of men, he is amply recompensed by the notes of birds; for it is their sanctuary as well as his; for no part of the mountain is so well inhabited by the feathered race of beings as this delightful spot. Perhaps indeed, they have sagacity enough to know that there is no other so perfectly secure. Here the nightingale, the blackbird, the linnet, and an infinite variety of little songsters greater strangers to my eyes, than fearful of my hands, dwell in perfect security, and live in the most friendly intimacy with their holy protector, and obedient to his call; for, says the hermit,

"Haste here, ye feather'd race of various song, Bring all your pleasing melody along! O come, ye tender, faithful, plaintive doves, Perch on my hands, and sing your absent loves!"--

When instantly the whole _vocal band_ quit their sprays, and surround the person of their daily benefactor, some settling upon his head, others entangle their feet in his beard, and in the true sense of the word, take his bread even out of his mouth; but it is freely given: their confidence is so great, (for the holy father is their bondsman) that the stranger too partakes of their familiarity and caresses. These hermits are not allowed to keep within their walls either dog, cat, bird, or any living thing, lest their attention should be withdrawn from heavenly to earthly affections. I am sorry to arraign this good man; he cannot be said to transgress the law, but he certainly _evades_ it; for though his feathered band do not live within his walls, they are always attendant upon his _court_; nor can any prince or princess on earth boast of heads so _elegantly plumed_, as may be seen at the court of St. _Catharine_; or of vassals who pay their tributes with half the chearfulness they are given and received by the humble monarch of this sequestered vale. If his meals are scanty, his dessert is served up with a song, and he is hushed to sleep by the nightingale; and when we consider, that he has but few days in the whole year which are inferior to some of our best in the months of May and June, you may easily conceive, that a man who breathes such pure air, who feeds on such light food, whose blood circulates freely from moderate exercise, and whose mind is never ruffled by worldly affairs, whose short sleeps are sweet and refreshing, and who lives confident of finding in death a more heavenly residence; lives a life to be envied, not pitied.--Turn but your eyes one minute from this man's situation, to that of any monarch or minister on earth, and say, on which side does the balance turn?--While some princes may be embruing their hands in the blood of their subjects, this man is offering up his prayers to God to preserve all mankind:--While some ministers are sending forth fleets and armies to wreak their own private vengeance on a brave and uncorrupted people, this solitary man is feeding, from his own scanty allowance, the birds of the air.--Conceive him, in his last hour, upon his straw bed, and see with what composure and resignation he meets it!--Look in the face of a dying king, or a plundering, and blood-thirsty minister,--what terrors the sight of their velvet beds, adorned with crimson plumage, must bring to their affrighted imagination!--In that awful hour, it will remind them of the innocent blood they have spilt;--nay, they will perhaps think, they were dyed with the blood of men scalped and massacred, to support their vanity and ambition!--In short, dear Sir, while kings and ministers are torn to pieces by a thirst after power and riches, and disturbed by a thousand anxious cares, this poor hermit can have but one, _i.e._ lest he should be removed (as the prior of the convent has a power to do) to some other cell, for that is sometimes done, and very properly.

The youngest and most hardy constitutions are generally put into the higher hermitages, or those to which the access is most difficult; for the air is so fine, in the highest parts of the mountain, that they say it often renders the respiration painful. Nothing therefore can be more reasonable than, that as these good men grow older, and less able to bear the fatigues and inconveniencies the highest abodes unavoidably subject them to, should be removed to more convenient dwellings, and that the younger and stouter men should succeed them.

As the hermits never eat meat, I could not help observing to him, how fortunate a circumstance it was for the safety of his little feathered friends; and that there were no boys to disturb their young, nor any sportsman to kill the parent.--God forbid, said he, that one of them should fall, but by his hands who gave it life!--Give me your hand, said I, and bless me!--I believe it did; _but it shortened my visit_:--so I stept into the _grot_, and _stole_ a pound of chocolate upon his stone table, and myself away.

If there is a happy man upon this earth, I have seen that extraordinary man, and here he dwells!--his features, his manners, all his looks and actions, announce it;--yet he had not even a single _maravedi_ in his pocket:--money is as useless to him, as to one of his black-birds.

Within a gun-shot of this _remnant_ of _Eden_, are the remains of an ancient hermitage, called _St. Pedro_. While I was there, my hermit followed me; but I too _coveted retirement_. I had just bought a fine fowling-piece at _Barcelona_; and when he came, I was availing myself of the hallowed spot, to make _my vow_ never to use it. In truth, dear Sir, there are some sorts of pleasures too powerful for the body to bear, as well as some sort of pain: and here I was wrecked upon the wheel of felicity; and could only say, like the poor criminal who suffered at _Dijon_,--O God! O God! at every _coup_.

I was sorry my host did not understand English, nor I Spanish enough, to give him the sense of the lines written in poor _Shenstone_'s alcove.

"O you that bathe in courtlye bliss, "Or toyle in fortune's giddy spheare; "Do not too rashly deeme amisse "Of him that hides contented here.

I forgot the other lines; but they conclude thus:

"For faults there beene in busye life From which these peaceful glennes are free."