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 follows the wish to help misfortune’s child, and yet the want of power to effect it?”

His discourse fell upon my conscience-stricken breast like a burning weight of fire, and my eyes were so chained to the earth, that I neither dared nor could look up. “Who can help all,” I exclaimed, wishing to excuse myself; “were one a very Crœsus, it would ruin and impoverish at last?”

“You do not comprehend my meaning, “replied he, sternly, “and only prove how little till now you have participated in the sufferings of your fellow-creatures. It is not gold that always serves to alleviate affliction, for often is the beggar far happier than he who aids, and who yet himself endures anguish of mind; it is consolation, counsel, mildness, patience, which you owe to your neighbour, and until you can fulfil these duties with all your zeal and strength, you cannot call yourself happy. Delay not with your help till it be demanded; as soon as you know it is required step forward with a zealous alacrity, but reckon not upon reward, you do only your duty, and cannot require thanks. The feeling, the consciousness of having done our duty is the highest recompense we can wish to enjoy here below.—God be with you!”—With these words this singular being left me, and thus I had for once beheld a hermit.

The venerable man proceeded silently towards his cell, and I saw myself forced to return again to Shwytz, or to pass the night under the canopy of heaven.

Plunged in deep reverie, I in vain endeavoured to recall the subject of my late discourse with the hermit; I felt as if his words had awakened me from the most flattering dreams.

Silent and thoughtful I returned home. I had just learned to consider this life in a point of view which was to me perfectly new, but which, presenting at the same time a very uninviting and cheerless prospect, only conveyed to me a dark and melancholy feeling. I was then, he said, to seek out myself the misery which prevailed amongst my fellow