Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1871-05-11
MisfflIaneans.
AYoIunteer Prisoner.

n tOkuhtCcI Z I1oOhcE.
From the New York Tribune. -.... .
Is not this, related in a private letter
from London, rather a remarkable stO-
ry? go @ a- ''''-a-
About twenty years ago young
American from New York, Walter
Hastings by name, dining In London in
company with Lord c., expressed
the opinion that solitary confinement
in dark cell was not so drea ifll a
punishment as had been represented.
/ His, Loniship- goes the tae- Offer
ed Hastings sI8,O00 ifhe would under
| go entire seclusion for ten years. The
proposition being agreed to, a cell was
fitted up i'm Lord C-'s own house.
| 1t was from twelve to fifteen feet
square, The prisoner was to be allow
ed candles, a few books, writing mater
ials, and plain food 1.-The latter to be
served bya man who was not to be seen
Inlthis way Hastings has been living
for a decade of years, his term expiring
about the 1st of the present month.
He is now released and has received,
we suppose, his hard-earned money.
money. He emerges from his dun
geon in rathera dilapidated condition,
appearing, though only thirty-five, like
man ofsixty-fve years of age, his
frame STOPPING and his head tettering,
his face sallow, his hair and beard white
his voice tremuloas and his speech hes
itating. He is coming directly to Amer
ic land we should not wonder if Mr..
Barnum knew something about him.
If SD, in this respect, the volunteer in
careerate has an advantage over the
Prisoner of Chillon, who never found
his Barnum at all, but only his Byron
-and in other respects, over the fam
GUS st. Simon Stylites, who remained
so long, not at his post but on top of it,
looking down with a contemptuous
eye upon the admirers who sent up his
lenten provender by means of a rope
and basket. We can only compare our
Walter Hastings with the historical
old gentleman who was found, very
much in need ola hair-dreSser, in one
of the subterranean dens of the Bastile,
and who died soon after being released
as toads do when the splitting of their
granite Enclosure liberates them. adI ~
Mr.. Emerson once told a. e0ngregat-
ion of college students that ifthey hop-I
ed to do anything in this world they
''shOuld WOO solitude as a brides" and
he must be unhealthily fond of babble
and hustle who does not now and then
experience longing to turn eremite.
David, in a moment Of firrepressible :im-
patience, declared all men to be liars;
and so any one may when his light
seems to be at the cleareSt, imagine
all men to be fools, forgetting, perhaps,
that he may be entitled to high rank
among the scholastics. History, from
Cincinnatus at the plow-tail to Charles
". muddling with his watches in the
monastery, gives us examples enough
of men weary of public and ardent fora
perfectly private routine. Unquestion-
ably all of us, could we but live long
enough, would look forward with re-
cher, and pevishly complain, like these
that Death has forgotten us in his hunt
for the shining marks. In the Olden
time it was easy enough to find cave
and to set up a slow sort of business
therein as hermit away from ''the
purse-proud, elbowing influence" the
dissensions, batteries, grimaces, and CEN
sures of those we call (facetiously) our
"brethren." 1t would be pretty, even
now, to be "a gentle hermit of the
dale" "and to live upon herbs and fruits
and water from the spring. But caves
are not SO common as they were, and
hermit, nowadays, being soon found
out, is exposed to paragraphs in the
newspapers and whole caravans of gap
ing and chattering visitors. 1t is easier
should solitary prOpensities get the bet
ter of us, to set up our hermitage in a
chamber, and to have our Timer broug
up. to us by some neat-handed Phyllis,
who will also give us taste of CONVEX
sation as she arranges the room of
morning. Certainly it is better for
some men-though this is hardly true
of any woman-to flee from the hustle
and shouldering of the world; nor do
we by this, mean to offer any extenua-
ton of mere cynicism, which may be
regarded as the most foolish of self-in-
du1gences, even if it were compatible
with self respect. At the same time, a
naturally quiet and peaceaDle oneis irri-
tated, with but little help for it, by the
polyphonus iargon of more practical
and less nervous natures. If any one
of our readers dislikes mere noise, and
find it a serious impeachment to his pur-
suits, he has probably, unless he has
made close secret of his infirmity,
been laughed at for harboring it. Our
cities and towns and houses are peopled
by legitimate descendants of Boaner-
ges. Tuey seem to think Gas Byron
said of the sea- that there sis music in
their roar" We yearn. to get away
from them and to mediate upon that
rule of human dignity which is only
proved by innumerable exceptions.
Some philosopher said that he was
"never less alone than when alone;"
the poet above quoted avoWed that
there sis society where none intrudes;"
Fand this recalls the fine couplet in the
prison-song of Lovelace Minds peace
able and quiet take this for her
mitage." The most pertinacious re-
cluse can never get away from himself
from that other Ego, with whom he
is fated, either for grief of 4gladness, to
maintain an endless colloquy, and from
whom he cannot escape even in his
dreams. Then each solitary takes into
his solitude fine company of expert
ences, Ofsuecesses to grow complacent
over, of failures to keep up a healthy
irritation, of hopes wrecked or come to
port in the past, as well as of hopes
strong enough to make the darkest
present sign{ficants sof twilight, as the
cocks are swindled into premature
Solicitations bys full moOIi. Aftef all,
there is no such thing as genuin soli-
tudel Our London recluse had twenty
books to read-quite enough for ten
years II they were good or bad enough.
He had the life behind him and 80 900
before him. Though he did not see
with his bodily, he did with his minds
] eve, the menial who brought his food.