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bosom； and a voluptuous tranquillity spread languor through his
soul。
He reached the Hermitage； and was entering to repose himself；
when He stopped on perceiving it to be already occupied。
Extended upon one of the Banks lay a man in a melancholy posture。
His head was supported upon his arm； and He seemed lost in
mediation。 The Monk drew nearer； and recognised Rosario： He
watched him in silence； and entered not the Hermitage。 After
some minutes the Youth raised his eyes； and fixed them mournfully
upon the opposite Wall。
'Yes！' said He with a deep and plaintive sigh； 'I feel all the
happiness of thy situation； all the misery of my own！ Happy were
I； could I think like Thee！ Could I look like Thee with disgust
upon Mankind； could bury myself for ever in some impenetrable
solitude； and forget that the world holds Beings deserving to be
loved！ Oh God！ What a blessing would Misanthropy be to me！'
'That is a singular thought； Rosario；' said the Abbot； entering
the Grotto。
'You here； reverend Father？' cried the Novice。
At the same time starting from his place in confusion； He drew
his Cowl hastily over his face。 Ambrosio seated himself upon the
Bank； and obliged the Youth to place himself by him。
'You must not indulge this disposition to melancholy；' said He；
'What can possibly have made you view in so desirable a light；
Misanthropy； of all sentiments the most hateful？'
'The perusal of these Verses； Father； which till now had escaped
my observation。 The Brightness of the Moonbeams permitted my
reading them； and Oh！ how I envy the feelings of the Writer！'
As He said this； He pointed to a marble Tablet fixed against the
opposite Wall： On it were engraved the following lines。
INSCRIPTION IN AN HERMITAGE
Who…e'er Thou art these lines now reading；
Think not； though from the world receding
I joy my lonely days to lead in
This Desart drear；
That with remorse aconscience bleeding
Hath led me here。
No thought of guilt my bosom sowrs：
Free…willed I fled from courtly bowers；
For well I saw in Halls and Towers
That Lust and Pride；
The Arch…Fiend's dearest darkest Powers；
In state preside。
I saw Mankind with vice incrusted；
I saw that Honour's sword was rusted；
That few for aught but folly lusted；
That He was still deceiv'd； who trusted
In Love or Friend；
And hither came with Men disgusted
My life to end。
In this lone Cave； in garments lowly；
Alike a Foe to noisy folly；
And brow…bent gloomy melancholy
I wear away
My life； and in my office holy
Consume the day。
Content and comfort bless me more in
This Grot； than e'er I felt before in
A Palace； and with thoughts still soaring
To God on high；
Each night and morn with voice imploring
This wish I sigh。
'Let me； Oh！ Lord！ from life retire；
Unknown each guilty worldly fire；
Remorseful throb； or loose desire；
And when I die；
Let me in this belief expire；
''To God I fly''！'
Stranger； if full of youth and riot
As yet no grief has marred thy quiet；
Thou haply throw'st a scornful eye at
The Hermit's prayer：
But if Thou hast a cause to sigh at
Thy fault； or care；
If Thou hast known false Love's vexation；
Or hast been exil'd from thy Nation；
Or guilt affrights thy contemplation；
And makes thee pine；
Oh！ how must Thou lament thy station；
And envy mine！
'Were it possible' said the Friar； 'for Man to be so totally
wrapped up in himself as to live in absolute seclusion from human
nature； and could yet feel the contented tranquillity which these
lines express； I allow that the situation would be more
desirable； than to live in a world so pregnant with every vice
and every folly。 But this never can be the case。 This
inscription was merely placed here for the ornament of the
Grotto； and the sentiments and the Hermit are equally imaginary。
Man was born for society。 However little He may be attached to
the World； He never can wholly forget it； or bear to be wholly
forgotten by it。 Disgusted at the guilt or absurdity of Mankind；
the Misanthrope flies from it： He resolves to become an Hermit；
and buries himself in the Cavern of some gloomy Rock。 While Hate
inflames his bosom； possibly He may feel contented with his
situation： But when his passions begin to cool； when Time has
mellowed his sorrows； and healed those wounds which He bore with
him to his solitude； think you that Content becomes his
Companion？ Ah！ no； Rosario。 No longer sustained by the violence
of his passions； He feels all the monotony of his way of living；
and his heart becomes the prey of Ennui and weariness。 He looks
round； and finds himself alone in the Universe： The love of
society revives in his bosom； and He pants to return to that
world which He has abandoned。 Nature loses all her charms in his
eyes： No one is near him to point out her beauties； or share in
his admiration of her excellence and variety。 Propped upon the
fragment of some Rock； He gazes upon the tumbling waterfall with
a vacant eye； He views without emotion the glory of the setting
Sun。 Slowly He returns to his Cell at Evening； for no one there
is anxious for his arrival； He has no comfort in his solitary
unsavoury meal： He throws himself upon his couch of Moss
despondent and dissatisfied； and wakes only to pass a day as
joyless； as monotonous as the former。'
'You amaze me； Father！ Suppose that circumstances condemned you
to solitude； Would not the duties of Religion and the
consciousness of a life well spent communicate to your heart that
calm which。 。 。 。'
'I should deceive myself； did I fancy that they could。 I am
convinced of the contrary； and that all my fortitude would not
prevent me from yielding to melancholy and disgust。 After
consuming the day in study； if you knew my pleasure at meeting my
Brethren in the Evening！ After passing many a long hour in
solitude； if I could express to you the joy which I feel at once
more beholding a fellow…Creature！ 'Tis in this particular that I
place the principal merit of a Monastic Institution。 It secludes
Man from the temptations of Vice； It procures that leisure
necessary for the proper service of the Supreme； It spares him
the mortification of witnessing the crimes of the worldly； and
yet permits him to enjoy the blessings of society。 And do you；
Rosario； do YOU envy an Hermit's life？ Can you be thus blind to
the happiness of your situation？ Reflect upon it for a moment。
This Abbey is become your Asylum： Your regularity； your
gentleness； your talents have rendered you the object of
universal esteem： You are secluded from the world which you
profess to hate； yet you remain in possession of the benefits of
society； and that a society composed of the most estimable of
Mankind。'
'Father！ Father！ 'tis that which causes my Torment！ Happy had
it been for me； had my life been passed among the vicious and
abandoned！ Had I never heard pronounced the name of Virtue！ 'Tis
my unbounded adoration of religion； 'Tis my soul's exquisite
sensibility of the beauty of fair and good； that loads me with
shame！ that hurries me to perdition！ Oh！ that I had never seen
these Abbey walls！'
'How； Rosario？ When we last conversed； you spoke in a different
tone。 Is my friendship then become of such little consequence？
Had you never seen these Abbey walls； you never had seen me：
Can that really be your wish？'
'Had never seen you？' repeated the Novice； starting from the
Bank； and grasping the Friar's hand with a frantic air； 'You？
You？ Would to God； that lightning had blasted them； before you
ever met my eyes！ Would to God！ that I were never to see you
more； and could forget that I had ever seen you！'
With these words He flew hastily from the Grotto。 Ambrosio
remained in his former attitude； reflecting on the Youth's
unaccountable behaviour。 He was inclined to suspect the
derangement of his senses