 your wisdom, and came hither to implore
your direction for this young man and maiden in the choice of life.«
    »To him that lives well, answered the hermit, every form of life is good;
nor can I give any other rule for choice, than to remove from all apparent
evil.«
    »He will remove most certainly from evil, said the prince, who shall devote
himself to that solitude which you have recommended by your example.«
    »I have indeed lived fifteen years in solitude, said the hermit, but have no
desire that my example should gain any imitators. In my youth I professed arms,
and was raised by degrees to the highest military rank. I have traversed wide
countries at the head of my troops, and seen many battles and sieges. At last,
being disgusted by the preferment of a younger officer, and feeling that my
vigour was beginning to decay, I resolved to close my life in peace, having
found the world full of snares, discord, and misery. I had once escaped from the
pursuit of the enemy by the shelter of this cavern, and therefore chose it for
my final residence. I employed artificers to form it into chambers, and stored
it with all that I was likely to want.
    For some time after my retreat, I rejoiced like a tempest-beaten sailor at
his entrance into the harbour, being delighted with the sudden change of the
noise and hurry of war, to stillness and repose. When the pleasure of novelty
went away, I employed my hours in examining the plants which grow in the valley,
and the minerals which I collected from the rocks. But that inquiry is now grown
tasteless and irksome. I have been for some time unsettled and distracted: my
mind is disturbed with a thousand perplexities of doubt, and vanities of
imagination, which hourly prevail upon me, because I have no opportunities of
relaxation or diversion. I am sometimes ashamed to think that I could not secure
myself from vice, but by retiring from the exercise of virtue, and begin to
suspect that I was rather impelled by resentment, than led by devotion, into
solitude. My fancy riots in scenes of folly, and I lament that I have lost so
much, and have gained so little. In solitude, if I escape the example of bad
men, I want likewise the counsel and conversation of the good. I have been long
comparing the evils with the advantages of society, and resolve to return into
the world to morrow. The life of a solitary man will be certainly miserable, but
not certainly devout.«
