But even at
break of day the rays of light are thrown on the surrounding rocks; and the
sharp peaks, rising above the shadows of the mountain, appear like tints of
gold and purple gleaming upon the azure sky.
To this scene I loved to resort, where I might enjoy at once the richness
of the extensive landscape, and the charm of uninterrupted solitude. One
day, when I was seated at the foot of the cottages, and contemplating their
ruins, a man, advanced in years, passed near the spot. He was dressed in
the ancient garb of the island, his feet were bare, and he leaned upon a
staff of ebony: his hair was white, and the expression of his countenance
was dignified and interesting. I bowed to him with respect; he returned the
salutation: and, after looking at me with some earnestness, came and placed
himself upon the hillock where I was seated. Encouraged by this mark of
confidence, I thus addressed him:--
"Father, can you tell me to whom those cottages once belonged?" "My son,"
replied the old man, "those heaps of rubbish, and that unfilled land, were,
twenty years ago, the property of two families, who then found happiness in
this solitude. Their history is affecting; but what European, pursuing his
way to the Indies, will pause one moment to interest himself in the fate of
a few obscure individuals? What European can picture happiness to his
imagination amidst poverty and neglect? The curiosity of mankind is only
attracted by the history of the great; and yet from that knowledge little
use can be derived.
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