m, 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 a conscience 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 g