They came on the third day, by the direction of the peasants, to
the hermit's cell. It was a cavern in the side of a mountain,
overshadowed with palm trees, at such a distance from the cataract
that nothing more was heard than a gentle uniform murmur, such as
composes the mind to pensive meditation, especially when it was
assisted by the wind whistling among the branches. The first rude
essay of Nature had been so much improved by human labour that the
cave contained several apartments appropriated to different uses,
and often afforded lodging to travellers whom darkness or tempests
happened to overtake.

The hermit sat on a bench at the door, to enjoy the coolness of the
evening. On one side lay a book with pens and paper; on the other
mechanical instruments of various kinds. As they approached him
unregarded, the Princess observed that he had not the countenance
of a man that had found or could teach the way to happiness.

They saluted him with great respect, which he repaid like a man not
unaccustomed to the forms of Courts. "My children," said he, "if
you have lost your way, you shall be willingly supplied with such
conveniences for the night as this cavern will afford. I have all
that Nature requires, and you will not expect delicacies in a
hermit's cell."

They thanked him; and, entering, were pleased with the neatness and
regularity of the place. The hermit set flesh and wine before
them, though he fed only upon fruits and water. His discourse was
cheerful without levity, and pious without enthusiasm. He soon