otland, where he was hospitably entertained "by those honest
Scots at Kipweth and Broxmouth," but finding himself without money or
means to make himself a courtier, he returned to his native place,
Willoughby. Here he soon grew weary of much company; and indulging a
romantic taste, retired into a forest, and in its recesses, near a
pretty brook, he built for himself a pavilion of boughs, where he
studied Machiavel's Art of War, and Marcus Aurelius, and amused his
leisure by riding, throwing the lance, and hunting. His principal food
was venison, which he thus provided for himself, like Shakespeare, with
but little regard for the game-laws; and whatever else he needed was
brought to him by his servant. The country people wondered at the
hermit; and his friends persuaded an Italian gentleman, rider to the
Earl of Lincoln, to visit him in his retreat; and thus he was induced to
return to the world, and after spending a short time with this new
acquaintance at Tattersall's, Smith now repaired a second time to the
Low Countries. Having made himself sufficiently master of horsemanship,
and the use of arms and the rudiments of war, he resolved to go and try
his fortunes against the Turks, having long witnessed with pain the
spectacle of so many Christians engaged in slaughtering one another.

Proceeding to St. Valery, in France, by collusion between the master of
the vessel and some French gallants, his trunks were plundered there in
the night, and he was forced to sell his cloak to pay for his passage.
The other passengers expressed their indignation against this villany,
and one of them, a French soldier, generously supplied his immediate
necessities, and invited Smith to accompany him to his home in Normandy.
Here he was kindly welcomed by his companion and the Prior of the
ancient abbey of St. Stephen, (where repose the remains of William the
Conqueror,) and others; and the story of his misfortunes reaching the
ears of some noble lords and ladies, they replenished his purse; and he
might have enjoyed their hospitality as long as he pleased, but this
suited not his restless, energetic and independent spirit. Wandering now
from port to port in quest of a man-of-war, he experienced some
extraordinary turns of fortune. Passing one day through a forest, his
money being spent, worn out with distress of mind, and cold, he threw
himself on the ground, at the side of a fountain of water, under a tree,
scarce hoping ever to rise agai