Far in a wild, unknown to public view, in a cell which he had hollowed out with his own hands on the edge of an open down, from youth to age a reverend hermit grew. The neighboring lord’s shepherd was wont to feed his sheep on short but sweet pasture of the hermit’s down.
One day the poor shepherd, fatigued with watching, fell asleep, and a robber came and stole the lord’s flock. When he awoke, he discovered the loss, and stoutly maintained that the sheep had been stolen, but the lord would not believe the shepherd, and commanded him to be put to death.
The hermit saw the deed, and thus communed with himself:
“Merciful God, seest thou what this manhath done, and how the innocent suffers for the guilty? Why permittest thou these things? If injustice is to triumph, why remain I here? Verily I will re-enter the world, and do as other men do.”
Impressed with these thoughts, the hermit left his cell, and wandered back to the world and the abodes of men, and on his way, an angel, sent from God, met him, and being in the form of a traveller, he joined himself to the hermit, and asked him which way he journeyed.
“To the city that lieth before us,” rejoined the hermit.
“I will accompany you,” replied his companion; “I am an angel sent from God, to be the associate of your wanderings.”
So they walked onwards to the city. When they entered the gates, they sought the house of a soldier, and entreated him, by God’s love, to give them harborage during the night. The veteran complied with cheerfulness, and spared not of the best of his substance, for the entertainment of the travellers. The hospitable soldier had but one child, an infant in the cradle. And so it happened, that when supper was ended, the veteran lighted the guests to his best chamber, and the angel and the hermit retired to rest. About midnight the hermit awoke, and saw the angel rise from the bed, enter thechamber where the infant slept, and strangle it with his own hands.
“Surely,” said the hermit to himself, “this cannot be an angel of God; did not the good soldier give us every thing that we required? and now, lo, the only child that he had, is slain by this, his guest.” And yet he feared to reprove his companion.
With the morning, the hermit and the angel arose, and sought a neighboring city, where they found a hospitable reception in the house of one of its chief persons. This man had a valuable drinking cup of gold, which the angel purloined during the night, but the hermit yet was silent, for he feared more than he doubted. On the morrow the travellers continued their journey, and on their way they came to a river, over which was a bridge thrown. They ascended the bridge, and met, midway, a poor and aged pilgrim.
“My friend,” said the angel to the old man, “show us the way to yonder city.”
As the pilgrim turned him to show the angel the road, he seized him by the shoulders, and cast the old man headlong into the river that ran beneath.
“Alas, alas!” cried the hermit to himself, “it is the Evil One himself. Why? what evil had the poor man done?” and yet, with all histhoughts, the hermit feared to give utterance to his fears.
About the hour of vespers, the travellers reached another city, in which they sought shelter for the night; but the master of the house refused them rudely.
“For the love of heaven,” said the angel, “spare us of thy house for shelter against the wolves and other wild beasts.”
“That,” rejoined the man, “is my pigsty, lie ye there, if it so please ye; for ye come no other whither.”
“Necessity,” replied the angel, “forces us to accept your ungracious offer.”
On the morrow, the angel called the host, and said, “Friend, I give you this goblet,” presenting to him the cup he had stolen from his former host.
“Now,” said the hermit, “know I that this is no angel; doth he not reward evil for good, and good for evil? No longer will I travel with you; fare thee well, I commend thee to God.”
“Dear friend,” rejoined the angel, “hear me ere you depart. Whilst thou wert in thy hermitage, the lord of the flock unjustly slew his careless but innocent servant. For his innocence he will be in a fit state to enter another world; but had he lived, he would have falleninto sin, and died before repentance could have followed. Eternal punishment shall follow them who stole the sheep; but repentance and acts of faith shall repair the error which the owner of the flock committed in his ignorance. Truly the soldier was hospitable, but he loved his son overmuch; ere then, he was charitable and merciful, but on the birth of his child he grew parsimonious and covetous, that he might leave a fortune to his son. With his child’s death hath returned his Christian virtues to his parent. Before that cup was made, which I stole from our host who owned it, there was not a more abstemious person in this world; but with that cup came the love of indulgence and inebriety. I took away the temptation, and our host is once more abstemious. Again, I cast the poor pilgrim into the river. He whom I drowned was a good Christian; but had he proceeded further, he would have fallen into mortal sin: now he is saved and is reigning in heaven. Neither did I bestow the cup on the unhospitable citizen without reason: he gave us his swine’s house; he has received his reward—the temptation of gluttony and pleasure. Guard, therefore, thy lips; detract not from the Almighty; to him all things are known.”
At these words, the hermit fell at the feet ofthe angel, and besought his pardon. It was acceded to him, and he returned to his hermitage a wiser and a better Christian.
“Admitting, of course, the identity of the main incidents, Parnell must have the credit of heightening those he has used with many masterly touches of poetic coloring, and of a happier arrangement of circumstances,” said Herbert, who had been following the story in the poet’s works.
“Many indeed are the proofs of his genius and address in the treatment of the subject,” said Lathom. “And no one more striking, than his delaying the discovery of the angelic nature of the visitant until the close of the story; and thus introducing a beautiful description and interesting surprise.”
“Read us the part,” said Thompson.
“It is where the angel has just thrown the guide into the river—
“‘Wild, sparkling rage inflames the hermit’s eyes,He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries,Detested wretch—but scarce his speech began,When the strange partner seem’d no longer man.His youthful face grew more serenely sweet;His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet;Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;Celestial odors breathe thro’ purple air;And wings, whose colors glitter’d on the day,Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,And moves in all the majesty of light.’”
“‘Wild, sparkling rage inflames the hermit’s eyes,He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries,Detested wretch—but scarce his speech began,When the strange partner seem’d no longer man.His youthful face grew more serenely sweet;His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet;Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;Celestial odors breathe thro’ purple air;And wings, whose colors glitter’d on the day,Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,And moves in all the majesty of light.’”
“‘Wild, sparkling rage inflames the hermit’s eyes,He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries,Detested wretch—but scarce his speech began,When the strange partner seem’d no longer man.His youthful face grew more serenely sweet;His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet;Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;Celestial odors breathe thro’ purple air;And wings, whose colors glitter’d on the day,Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,And moves in all the majesty of light.’”
“‘Wild, sparkling rage inflames the hermit’s eyes,
He bursts the bands of fear, and madly cries,
Detested wretch—but scarce his speech began,
When the strange partner seem’d no longer man.
His youthful face grew more serenely sweet;
His robe turn’d white, and flow’d upon his feet;
Fair rounds of radiant points invest his hair;
Celestial odors breathe thro’ purple air;
And wings, whose colors glitter’d on the day,
Wide at his back their gradual plumes display.
The form ethereal bursts upon his sight,
And moves in all the majesty of light.’”
“Do you suppose that the Gesta was known to the poet?” asked Frederick Thompson.
“Hardly—he is far more likely to have taken the incidents of his poem from the Divine Dialogues of the Platonist Moore; who affixes to his version of the tale some reflections well worth reading. ‘The affairs of thisworld,’ says the old Platonist, ‘are like a curious but intricately contrived comedy; and we cannot judge of the tendency of what is past—or acting at present, before the entrance of the last act, which shall bring in righteousness in triumph; who though she hath abided many a brunt, and has been very cruelly and despitefully used in the world, yet at last, according to our desires, we shall see the knight overcome the giant.’ ... But impatiently to call for vengeance upon every enormity before that time, is rudely to overturn the stage before the entrance of the fifth act, out of ignorance of the plot of the comedy; and to prevent the solemnity of the general judgment, by more paltry and particular executions.”
“Thanks for the old Platonist’s remarks,” said Herbert. “I could have wished them more elaborate, were not Schiller’s Fridolin waiting for the conclusion of them, to come upon our stage.”
“I will give you, then, one form of Schiller’s ballad.”