You will tremble--I a.s.sure you, I do--when I think of another escape I had; and I will tell you how:--The day after I left _Cette_, I came to a spot where the roads divide; here I asked two men, which was mine to _Narbonne_? one of them answered me in English; he was a shabby, but genteel-looking young man, said he came from _Italy_, and was going to _Barcelona_; that he had been defrauded of his money at _Venice_ by a parcel of sharpers, and was going to _Spain_ to get a pa.s.sage to Holland, of which country he was a native; he was then in treaty, he said, with the other man to sell him a pair of breeches, to furnish him with money to carry him on; and as I had no servant at that time, he earnestly intreated me to take him into my service: I would not do that, you may be sure; but lest he might be an unfortunate man, like myself, I told him, if he could contrive to lie at the inns I did, I would pay for his bed and supper. He accepted an offer, I soon became very sorry I had made; and when we arrived at _Perpignan_, I gave him a little money to proceed, but absolutely forbad him either to walk near my chaise, or to sleep at the same inns I did; for as I knew him not, he should not enter into another kingdom as one in my _suite_; and I saw no more of him till some days after my arrival at Barcelona, where he accosted me in a better habit, and shewed me some real, or counterfeit gold he had got, he said, of a friend who knew his father at Amsterdam. He was a bold, daring fellow; and it was with some difficulty I could prevail upon him not to walk _cheek by jole_ with me along the ramparts.

Soon after this I was informed, that a fine-dressed, little black-eyed man was arrived in a bark from Italy. This man proved to be, as Mr.

Curtoys informed me, the very Moor whom Sir Thomas Gascoyne was suspected to be: he was apprehended, and committed to one of the round towers. But what will you say, or what would have been my lot, had I taken the other man into my service?--for the minute _my white man_, for he was a _whitish_ Moor, saw the black one arrive, he decamped; they were afraid of each other, and both wanted to escape; my man went off on foot; the black man was apprehended, while he was in treaty with the master of the same bark he came in, to carry him to some other sea-port.

Now had I come in with such a servant, and with my suspected Bank notes, without letters of credit, or recommendation; had the Moor arrived, who is the real culprit, and who had been connected with my man, what would have become of his master, your unfortunate humble servant?--I doubt the _abilities_ of his Britannic Majesty's Consul would not have been able to have divided our degrees of _guilt_ properly; and that I should have experienced but little charity on my straw bed, from the humanity of Mr.

Wombwell. However, I had still one card more to play to reinforce my purse; it was one, I thought could not fail, and the money was nearer home:--I had lent, while I was at Calais, thirty guineas to a French officer, for no other reason but because he wanted it: I knew the man; and as he promised to pay me in three months, and as that time was expired, I applied to Mr. Harris, a Scotch merchant, at his house at Barcelona, on whom the London Bankers of the same name give letters of credit to travellers. I begged the favour of him to send the note to his correspondents at Paris, and to procure the money for me, and when it was paid, that he would give it to me at Barcelona; but Mr. Harris too, begged to be excused: he started some difficulties, but at length did give me a receipt for the note, and promised, reluctantly enough, to send it. I began now to think that I should starve indeed. Every article of life is high in Spain, and my purse was low. I therefore wrote to Mr.

Curtoys, to know if he had any tidings of the Bank bills; for I had immediately wrote to Messrs. h.o.a.re, to beg the favour of them to send Mr. Curtoys the numbers of those which I received at their house; and they very politely informed me, they had so done. Mr. Consul Curtoys favoured me with the following answer:

"Mr. Curtoys presents his compliments to Mr. Thicknesse; no ways doubts the Bank bills _to be good_, from London this post under the 24th past, they _accuse_ receipt thereof, &c. _Barcelona_, 12th of December, 1775."

As Mr. Curtoys's correspondent had _accused receipt thereof_, I thought I might too, and accordingly I went and desired my money. The cashier was sick, they said, and I was desired to call again the next morning, _when he would be much better_;--I did so, and received my money; and shall set off immediately for _Montserrat_, singing, and saying what I do not exactly agree to; but, being at Rome, I would do as they do there: I therefore taught my children to repeat the following Spanish proverb:

"Barcelonaes Bueno, Si la Bolsa fueno; Sueno o no fueno; Barcelonaes Bueno."

I will not translate what, I am sure, you will understand the sense of much better than you will think I experienced the truth. I hope, however, to have done with my misfortunes; for I am going to visit a spot inhabited by virtuous and retired men; a place, according to all reports, cut out by nature for such who are able to sequester themselves from all worldly concerns; and from such strangers as they are I am sure I shall meet with more charity for they deal in nothing else than I met with humanity or politeness at Barcelona.

_P.S._ I should have told you, that before Sir Thomas Gascoyne left this town, he sent a polite message, to desire to take leave of me and my family: I therefore waited upon him; and as he proposed visiting Gibraltar, I troubled him with a letter to my son, then on that duty; and was sorry soon after to find that my son had left the garrison before Sir Thomas could arrive at it. If you ask me how Sir Thomas Gascoyne ventured to make so great a tour through a country so aukwardly circ.u.mstanced for travellers in general, and strangers in particular, I can only say, that when I saw him he had but just began his long journey, and that he had every advantage which _religion_ and fortune could give him. I had none: he travelled with two coaches, two sets of horses, two saddle mules, and was protected by a train of servants. I had religion, (but it was a bad one in that country) and only one footman, who strictly maintained his character, for he always walked.

Indeed, it is the fashion of all Spanish gentlemen to be followed by their servant on foot. I therefore travelled like a Spaniard; Sir Thomas like an Englishman. The whole city of _Barcelona_ was in an uproar the morning Sir Thomas's two coaches set off; and I heard, with concern, that they both broke down before they got half way to _Valencia_; but, with pleasure, by a polite letter soon after from Mr.

Swinburne, that they got so far in perfect health.

I am, dear Sir, &c.

_P.S._ Before I quit Barcelona, it will be but just to say, that it is a good city, has a fine mole, and a n.o.ble citadel, beside _Monjuique_, a strong fort, which stands on a high hill, and which commands the town as well as the harbour. The town is very large and strongly fortified, stands in a large plain, and is encompa.s.sed with a semi-circular range of high hills, rather than mountains, which form _un coup-d'oeil_, that is very pleasing, as not only the sides of the hills are adorned with a great number of country houses, but the plain also affords a great many, beside several little villages. The roads too near the town are very good. As to the city itself, it is rather well built in general, than abounding with any particular fine buildings. The Inquisition has nothing to boast of now, either within or without, having (fortunately for the public) lost a great part of its former power: it, however, still keeps an awe upon all who live within its verge. I never saw a town in which trade is carried on with more spirit and industry; the indolent disposition of the Spaniards of _Castile_, and other provinces, has not extended ever into this part of Spain. They have here a very fine theatre; but those who perform upon the stage are the refuse of the people, and are too bad to be called by the name of actors. They have neither libraries nor pictures worthy of much notice, though they boast of one or two paintings in their churches by natives of the town, Francois _Guirro_, and John _Arnau_. In the custom-house hangs a full-length of the present King, so execrable, that one would wonder it was not put, with the painter, into the Inquisition, as a libel on royalty and the arts. I am told, at _La Fete Dieu_ there are some processions of the most ridiculous nature. The fertility of the earth in and about the town is wonderful; the minute one crop is off the earth, another is put in; no part of the year puts a stop to vegetation.

In the coldest weather, the market abounds with a great variety of the choicest flowers; yet their sweets cannot over-power the intolerable smell which salt fish, and stinking fish united, diffuse over all that part of the city; and rich as the inhabitants are, you will see the legs, wings, b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and entrails of fowls, in the market, cut up as joints of meat are in other countries, to be sold separately: nor could I find in this great city either oil, olives, or wine, that were tolerable. I paid a guinea a day at the _Fontain d'Or_ for my table; yet every thing was so dirty, that I always made my dinner from the dessert; nor was there any other place but the stable of this dirty inn to put up my horse, where I paid twelve livres a week for straw only; and whoever lodges at this inn, must pay five shillings a day for their dinner, whether they dine there or not.

_Catalonia_ is undoubtedly the best cultivated, the richest, and most industrious province, or princ.i.p.ality, in Spain; and the King, who has the SUN FOR HIS HAT, (for it always shines in some part of his dominions) has nothing to boast of, equal to _Catalonia_.

As I have almost as much abhorrence to the Moors, as even the Spaniards themselves, (having visited that coast two or three times, many years ago) you may be sure I was grieved to meet, every time I went out, so many maimed and wounded officers and soldiers, who were not long returned from the unsuccessful expedition to _Algiers_. There are no troops in the world more steady than the Spaniards; it was not for want of bravery they miscarried, but there was some sad mismanagement; and had the Moors followed their blows, not a man of them would have returned. My servant, (a French deserter) who was upon that expedition, says, Gen. O'Reilly was the first who landed, and the last who embarked;--but it is the HEAD, not the _arm_ of a commander in chief, which is most wanted. The Moors at _le point du jour_, advanced upon the Spaniards behind a formidable _masked and moving battery_ of camels: the Spaniards, believing them, by a faint light, to be cavalry, expended a great part of their strength, spirits, and ammunition, upon those harmless animals; and it was not till _this curtain_ was removed that the dreadful carnage began, in which they lost about nine thousand men. There seems to have been some strange mismanagement; it seems probable that there was no very good understanding between the marine and the land officers. The fleet were many days before the town, and then landed just where the Moors expected they would land. There is nothing so difficult, so dangerous, nor so liable to miscarriage, as the war of _invading_: our troops experienced it at _St. Cas_; and they either have, or will experience it in America. The wild negroes in Jamaica, to whom Gov. Trelawney wisely gave, what they contended for, (LIBERTY) were not above fifteen hundred fit to bear arms. I was in several skirmishes with them, and second in command under Mr. Adair's brother, a valiant young man who died afterwards in the field, who made peace with them; yet I will venture to affirm, that though five hundred disciplined troops would have subdued them in an open country, the united force of France and England could not have extirpated them from their fast holds in the mountains. Did not a Baker battle and defeat two Marshals of France in the Cevennes? And is it probable, that all the fleets and armies of Great-Britain can conquer America?--England may as well attempt moving that Continent on this side the Atlantic.

LETTER XX.

MONTSERRAT.

I never left any place with more secret satisfaction than I did _Barcelona_; exclusive of the entertainment I was prepared to expect, by visiting this holy mountain; nor have I been disappointed; but on the contrary, found it, in every respect, infinitely superior to the various accounts I had heard of it;--to give a perfect description of it is impossible;--to do that it would require some of those attributes which the Divine Power by whose almighty handy it was raised, is endowed with. It is called _Montserrat_, or _Mount-Scie_,[C] by the _Catalonians_, words which signify a cut or _sawed mountain_; and so called from its singular and extraordinary form; for it is so broken, so divided, and so crowned with an infinite number of spiring cones, or PINE heads, that it has the appearance, at distant view, to be the work of man; but upon a nearer approach, to be evidently raised by HIM alone, to whom nothing is impossible. It looks, indeed, like the first rude sketch of G.o.d's work; but the design is great, and the execution such, that it compels all men who approach it, to lift up their hands and eyes to heaven, and to say,--Oh G.o.d!--HOW WONDERFUL ARE ALL THY WORKS!

[C] The arms of the Abbey are--A saw in the middle of a rock.

It is no wonder then, that such a place should be fixed upon for the residence of holy and devout men; for there is not surely upon the habitable globe a spot so properly adapted for retirement and contemplation; it has therefore, for many ages, been inhabited only by monks and hermits, whose first vow is, never to forsake it;--a vow, without being either a hermit or a monk, I could make, I think, without repenting.

If it be true, and some great man has said so, that "_whosoever delighteth in solitude, is either a wild beast, or a G.o.d_;" the inhabitants of this spot are certainly more than men; for no wild beast dwells here. But it is the _place_, not the people, I mean at present to speak of. It stands in a vast plain, seven leagues they call it, but it is at least thirty miles from _Barcelona_, and nearly in the center of the princ.i.p.ality of _Catalonia_. The height of it is so very considerable, that in one hour's slow travelling towards it, after we left _Barcelona_, it shewed its pointed steeples, high over the lesser mountains, and seemed so very near, that it would have been difficult to have persuaded a person, not accustomed to such deceptions, in so clear an atmosphere to believe, that we had much more than an hour's journey to arrive at it; instead of which, we were all that day in getting to _Martorel_, a small city, still three leagues distant from it, where we lay at the Three Kings, a pretty good inn, kept by an insolent imposing Italian. _Martorel_ stands upon the steep banks of the river _Lobregate_, over which there is a modern bridge, of a prodigious height, the piers of which rest on the opposite sh.o.r.e, against a Roman triumphal arch of great solidity, and originally of great beauty. I think I tell you the truth when I say, that I could perceive the convent, and some of the hermitages, when I first saw the mountain, at above twenty miles distance. From _Martorel_, however, they were as visible as the mountain itself, to which the eye was directed, down the river, the banks of which were adorned with trees, villages, houses, &c.

and the view terminated by this the most glorious monument in nature.

When I first saw the mountain, it had the appearance of an infinite number of rocks cut into _conical_ forms, and built one upon another to a prodigious height. Upon a nearer view, each cone appeared of itself a mountain; and the _tout ensemble_ compose an enormous ma.s.s of the _Lundus Helmonti_, or plumb-pudding stone, fourteen miles in circ.u.mference, and what the Spaniards _call_ two leagues in height. As it is like unto no other mountain, so it stands quite unconnected with any, though not very distant from some very lofty ones. Near the base of it, on the south side, are two villages, the largest of which is _Montrosol_; but my eyes were attracted by two ancient towers, which flood upon a hill near _Colbaton_, the smallest, and we drove to that, where we found a little _posada_, and the people ready enough to furnish us with mules and a.s.ses, for we were now become quite impatient to visit the hallowed and celebrated convent, _De Neustra Senora_; a convent, to which pilgrims resort from the furthest parts of Europe, some bearing, by way of penance, heavy bars of iron on their backs, others cutting and slashing their naked bodies with wire cords, or crawling to it on all-fours, like the beasts of the field, to obtain forgiveness of their sins, by the intercession of _our Lady of Montserrat_.

When we had ascended a steep and rugged road, about one hour, and where there was width enough, and the precipices not too alarming, to give our eyes the utmost liberty, we had an earnest of what we were to expect above, as well as the extensive view below; our impatience to see more was encreased by what we had already seen; the majestic convent opened to us a view of her venerable walls; some of the hermits' cells peeped over the broken precipices still higher; while we, glutted with astonishment, and made giddy with delight and amazement, looked up at all with a reverential awe, towards that G.o.d who raised the PILES, and the holy men who dwell among them.--Yes, Sir,--we caught the holy flame; and I hope we came down better, if not wiser, than we went up. After ascending full two hours and a half more, we arrived on a flat part on the side, and about the middle of the mountain, on which the convent is built; but even that flat was made so by art, and at a prodigious expence. Here, however, was width enough to look securely about us; and, good G.o.d! what an extensive field of earth, air, and sea did it open! the ancient towers, which at first attracted my notice near _Colbaton_, were dwindled into pig-sties upon a _mounticule_. At length, and a great length it was, we arrived at the gates of the _Sanctuary_; on each side of which, on high pedestals, stand the enormous statues of two saints; and nearly opposite, on the base of a rock, which leans in a frightful manner over the buildings, and threatens destruction to all below, a great number of human sculls are fixed in the form of a cross. Within the gate is a square cloister, hung round with paintings of the miracles performed by the Holy Virgin, with votive offerings, &c. It was Advent week, when none of the monks quit their apartments, but one whose weekly duty it was to attend the call of strangers; nor did the whole community afford but a single member (_pere tendre_, a _Fleming_) who could speak French. It was _Pere Pascal_, by whom we were shewn every mark of politeness and attention, which a man of the world could give, but administered with all that humility and meekness, so becoming a man who had renounced it. He put us in possession of a good room, with good beds; and as it was near night, and very cold, he ordered a brazier of red-hot embers into our apartment; and having sent for the cook of the strangers' kitchen, (for there are four public kitchens) and ordered him to obey our commands, he retired to evening _vespers_; after which he made us a short visit, and continued to do so, two or three times every day, while we staid.

Indeed, I began to fear we staid too long, and told him so; but he a.s.sured me the apartment was ours for a month or two, if we pleased.

During our stay, he admitted me into his apartments, and filled my box with delicious Spanish snuff, and shewed us every attention we would wish, and much more than, as _unrecommended_ strangers, we could expect.

All the poor who come here are fed gratis for three days, and all the sick received in the hospital. Sometimes, on particular festivals, seven thousand arrive in one day; but people of condition pay a reasonable price for what they eat. There was before our apartment a long covered gallery; and tho' we were in a deep recess of the rocks, which projected wide and high on our right and left, we had in front a most extensive view of the _world below_, and the more distant Mediterranean Sea. It was a moon-light night; and, in spite of the cold, it was impossible to be shut out of the enchanting lights and shades which her silver beams reflected on the rude rocks above, beneath, and on all sides of us.--Every thing was as still as death, till the sonorous convent bell warned the Monks to midnight prayer. At two o'clock, we heard some of the tinkling bells of the hermits' cells above give notice, that they too were going to their devotion at the appointed hour: after which I retired to my bed; but my mind was too much awakened to permit me to sleep; I was impatient for the return of day-light, that I might proceed still higher; for, miser like, tho' my _coffers were too full_, I coveted more; and accordingly, after breakfast, we eagerly set our feet to the first _round_ of the _hermit's ladder_; it was a stone one indeed, but stood in all places dreadfully steep, and in many almost perpendicular. After mounting up a vast chasm in the rock, yet full of trees and shrubs, about a thousand paces, fatigued in body, and impatient for a safe resting place, we arrived at a small hole in the rock, through which we were glad to crawl; and having got to the secure side of it, prepared ourselves, by a little rest, to proceed further; but not, I a.s.sure you, without some apprehensions, that if there was no better road down, we must have become _hermits_. After a second clamber, not quite so dreadful as the first, but much longer, we got into some flowery and serpentine walks, which lead to two or three of the nearest hermitages then visible, and not far off, one of which hung over so horrible a precipice, that it was terrifyingly picturesque. We were now, however, I thought, certainly in the garden of Eden! Certain I am, Eden could not be more beautifully adorned; for G.o.d alone is the gardener here also; and consequently, every thing prospered around us which could gratify the eye, the nose and, the imagination.

"Profuse the myrtle spread unfading boughs, Expressive emblem of eternal vows."

For the myrtle, the eglantine, the jessamin, and all the smaller kind of aromatic shrubs and flowers, grew on all sides thick and spontaneously about us; and our feet brushed forth the sweets of the lavender, rosemary and thyme, till we arrived at the first, and peaceful hermitage of _Saint Tiago_. We took possession of the holy inhabitants little garden, and were charmed with the neatness, and humble simplicity, which in every part characterised the possessor. His little chapel, his fountain, his vine arbor, his stately cypress, and the walls of his cell, embraced on all sides with ever-greens, and adorned with flowers, rendered it, exclusive of its situation, wonderfully pleasing.

His door, however, was fast, and all within was silent; but upon knocking, it was opened by the venerable inhabitant: he was cloathed in a brown cloth habit, his beard was very long, his face pale, his manners courteous; but he seemed rather too deeply engaged in the contemplation of the things of the next world, to lose much of his time with _such things_ as _us_. We therefore, after peeping into his apartments, took his benediction, and he retired, leaving us all his worldly possessions, but his straw bed, his books, and his beads. This hermitage is confined between two pine heads, within very narrow bounds; but it is artfully fixed, and commands at noon day a most enchanting prospect to the East and to the North. Though it is upwards of two thousand three hundred paces from the convent, yet it hangs so directly over it, that the rocks convey not only the sound of the organ, and the voices of the monks singing in the choir, but you may hear men in common conversation from the piazza below.

This is a long letter; but I know you would not willingly have left me in the midst of danger, or before I was safe arrived at the first stage towards heaven, and seen one humble host on G.o.d's high road.

_P.S._ At two o'clock, after midnight, these people rise, say ma.s.s, and continue the remainder of the night in prayer and contemplation. The hermits tell you, it was upon high mountains that G.o.d chose to manifest his will:--_fundamenta ejus in montibus sanctis_, say they;--they consider these rocks as symbols of their penitence, and mortifications; and their being so beautifully covered with fine flowers, odoriferous and rare plants, as emblems of the virtue and innocence of the religious inhabitants; or how else, say they, could such rocks produce spontaneously flowers in a desart, which surpa.s.s all that art and nature combined can do, in lower and more favourable soils? They may well think so; for human reason cannot account for the manner by which such enormous quant.i.ties of trees, fruits, and flowers are nourished, seemingly without soil. But that which established a church and convent on this mountain, was the story of a hermit who resided here many years; this was _Juan Guerin_, who lived on this mountain alone, the austerity of whose life was such, that the people below believed he subsisted without eating or drinking. As some very extraordinary circ.u.mstances attended this man's life, all which are universally believed here, it may not be amiss to give you some account of him:--You must know, Sir, then, that the devil envying the happiness of this good man equipped himself in the habit of a hermit, and possessed himself of a cavern in the same mountain, which still bears the name of the _Devil's Grot_; after which he took occasion to throw himself in the way of poor _Guerin_, to whom he expressed his surprize at seeing one of his own order dwell in a place he thought an absolute desert; but thanked G.o.d, for giving him so fortunate a meeting. Here the devil, and _Guerin_ became very intimate, and conversed much together on spiritual matters; and things went on well enough between them for a while, when another devil chum to the first, possessed the body of a certain Princess, daughter of a Count of _Barcelona_, who became thereby violently tormented with horrible convulsions. She was taken to the church by her afflicted father. The daemon who possessed her, and who, spoke for her, said, that nothing could relieve her from her sufferings but the prayers of a devout and pious hermit, named _Guerin_, who dwelt on _Montserrat_. The father, therefore, immediately repaired to _Guerin_, and besought his prayers and intercession for the recovery of his daughter. It so happened (for so the devil would have it) that this business could not be perfectly effected in less than nine days; and that the Princess must be left that time alone with _Guerin_ in his cave. Poor _Guerin_, conscious of his frail nature, opposed this measure with all his might; but there was no resisting the argument and influence of the devil, and she was accordingly left. Youth, beauty, a cave, solitude, and virgin modesty, were too powerful not to overcome even the chaste vows and pious intentions of poor _Guerin_. The devil left the virgin, and possessed the saint. He consulted his false friend, and told him how powerful this impure pa.s.sion was become, and his intentions of flying from the danger; but the devil advised him _to return to his cell_, and pray to G.o.d to protect him from sin. _Guerin_ took his council, returned and fell into the fatal snare. The devil then persuaded him to kill the Princess, in order to conceal his guilt, and to tell her father she had forsaken his abode while he was intent on prayer. _Guerin_ did so; but became very miserable, and at length determined to make a pilgrimage to Rome, to obtain a remission of his complicated crimes. The Pope enjoined him to return to _Montserrat_, on all fours, and to continue in that state, without once looking up to heaven, for the s.p.a.ce of seven years, or 'till a child of three months old told him, his sins were forgiven: all which _Guerin_ chearfully complied with, and accordingly crawled back to the defiled mountain.

Soon after the expiration of the seven years Count _Vifroy_, the father of the murdered Princess, was hunting on the mountain of _Montserrat_, and pa.s.sing near _Guerin's_ cave, the dogs entered, and the servant seeing a hideous figure concluded they had found the wild beast they were in pursuit of: they informed the Count of what they had seen, who gave directions to secure the beast alive, which was accordingly done; for he was so over-grown with hair, and so deformed in shape, that they had no idea of the creature being human. He was therefore kept in the Count's stable at _Barcelona_, and shewn to his visitors as a wonderful and singular wild beast. During this time, while a company were examining this extraordinary animal, a nurse with a young child in her arms looked upon it, and the child after fixing his eyes stedfastly for a few minutes on _Guerin_, said, "_Guerin, rise, thy sins are forgiven thee_!"--_Guerin_ instantly rose, threw himself at the Count's feet, confessed the crimes he had been guilty of, and desired to receive the punishment due to them, from the hands of him whom he had so highly injured; but the Count, perceiving that G.o.d had forgiven him, forgave him also.

I will not trouble you with all the particulars which attended this miracle; it will be sufficient to say, that the Count and _Guerin_ went to take up the body of the murdered Princess, for burial with her ancestors; but, to their great astonishment found her there alive, possessing the same youth and beauty she had been left with, and no alteration of any kind, but a purple streak about her neck where the cord had been twisted, and wherewith _Guerin_ had strangled her. The father desired her to return to _Barcelona_; but she was enjoined by the Holy Virgin, she said, to spend her days on that miraculous spot; and accordingly a church and convent was built there, the latter inhabited by Nuns, of which the Princess (who had risen from the dead) was the Abbess. It was called the Abbey _des Pucelles_, of the order of _St.

Benoit_, and was founded in the year 801. But such a vast concourse of people, of both s.e.xes, resorted to it, from all parts of the world, that at length it was thought prudent to remove the women to a convent at _Barcelona_, and place a body of _Benedictine_ monks in their place.

Strange as this story is, it is to be seen in the archives of this holy house; and in the street called _Condal_, at _Barcelona_, may be seen in the wall of the old palace of the Count's, an ancient figure, cut in stone, which represents the nurse with the child in her arms, and a strange figure, on his knees, at her feet, and that is Friar _Guerin_.

Now, whether you will believe all this story, or not, I cannot take upon me to say; but I will a.s.sure you, that when you visit this spot, it will be necessary to _say you do_; or you would appear in their eyes a much greater wonder than any thing which I have related, of the Devil, the 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!

O come, ye tender, faithful, plaintive doves, Perch on my hands, and sing your absent loves!"--

When instantly the whole _vocal band_ quit their sprays, and surround the person of their daily benefactor, some settling upon his head, others entangle their feet in his beard, and in the true sense of the word, take his bread even out of his mouth; but it is freely given: their confidence is so great, (for the holy father is their bondsman) that the stranger too partakes of their familiarity and caresses. These hermits are not allowed to keep within their walls either dog, cat, bird, or any living thing, lest their attention should be withdrawn from heavenly to earthly affections. I am sorry to arraign this good man; he cannot be said to transgress the law, but he certainly _evades_ it; for though his feathered band do not live within his walls, they are always attendant upon his _court_; nor can any prince or princess on earth boast of heads so _elegantly plumed_, as may be seen at the court of St.

_Catharine_; or of va.s.sals who pay their tributes with half the chearfulness they are given and received by the humble monarch of this sequestered vale. If his meals are scanty, his dessert is served up with a song, and he is hushed to sleep by the nightingale; and when we consider, that he has but few days in the whole year which are inferior to some of our best in the months of May and June, you may easily conceive, that a man who breathes such pure air, who feeds on such light food, whose blood circulates freely from moderate exercise, and whose mind is never ruffled by worldly affairs, whose short sleeps are sweet and refreshing, and who lives confident of finding in death a more heavenly residence; lives a life to be envied, not pitied.--Turn but your eyes one minute from this man's situation, to that of any monarch or minister on earth, and say, on which side does the balance turn?--While some princes may be embruing their hands in the blood of their subjects, this man is offering up his prayers to G.o.d to preserve all mankind:--While some ministers are sending forth fleets and armies to wreak their own private vengeance on a brave and uncorrupted people, this solitary man is feeding, from his own scanty allowance, the birds of the air.--Conceive him, in his last hour, upon his straw bed, and see with what composure and resignation he meets it!--Look in the face of a dying king, or a plundering, and blood-thirsty minister,--what terrors the sight of their velvet beds, adorned with crimson plumage, must bring to their affrighted imagination!--In that awful hour, it will remind them of the innocent blood they have spilt;--nay, they will perhaps think, they were dyed with the blood of men scalped and ma.s.sacred, to support their vanity and ambition!--In short, dear Sir, while kings and ministers are torn to pieces by a thirst after power and riches, and disturbed by a thousand anxious cares, this poor hermit can have but one, _i.e._ lest he should be removed (as the prior of the convent has a power to do) to some other cell, for that is sometimes done, and very properly.

The youngest and most hardy const.i.tutions are generally put into the higher hermitages, or those to which the access is most difficult; for the air is so fine, in the highest parts of the mountain, that they say it often renders the respiration painful. Nothing therefore can be more reasonable than, that as these good men grow older, and less able to bear the fatigues and inconveniencies the highest abodes unavoidably subject them to, should be removed to more convenient dwellings, and that the younger and stouter men should succeed them.

As the hermits never eat meat, I could not help observing to him, how fortunate a circ.u.mstance it was for the safety of his little feathered friends; and that there were no boys to disturb their young, nor any sportsman to kill the parent.--G.o.d forbid, said he, that one of them should fall, but by his hands who gave it life!--Give me your hand, said I, and bless me!--I believe it did; _but it shortened my visit_:--so I stept into the _grot_, and _stole_ a pound of chocolate upon his stone table, and myself away.

If there is a happy man upon this earth, I have seen that extraordinary man, and here he dwells!--his features, his manners, all his looks and actions, announce it;--yet he had not even a single _maravedi_ in his pocket:--money is as useless to him, as to one of his black-birds.

Within a gun-shot of this _remnant_ of _Eden_, are the remains of an ancient hermitage, called _St. Pedro_. While I was there, my hermit followed me; but I too _coveted retirement_. I had just bought a fine fowling-piece at _Barcelona_; and when he came, I was availing myself of the hallowed spot, to make _my vow_ never to use it. In truth, dear Sir, there are some sorts of pleasures too powerful for the body to bear, as well as some sort of pain: and here I was wrecked upon the wheel of felicity; and could only say, like the poor criminal who suffered at _Dijon_,--O G.o.d! O G.o.d! at every _coup_.

I was sorry my host did not understand English, nor I Spanish enough, to give him the sense of the lines written in poor _Shenstone_'s alcove.

"O you that bathe in courtlye bliss, "Or toyle in fortune's giddy spheare; "Do not too rashly deeme amisse "Of him that hides contented here.

I forgot the other lines; but they conclude thus:

"For faults there beene in busye life From which these peaceful glennes are free."