Friar, the Virgin, and the Count.




LETTER XXI.


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!