It was a dreadful storm. The wind blowing full on the seashore, rolled tremendous waves on the beach, while the half-sunk rocks at the entrance of the bay were enveloped in a mist of white foam. A ship appeared in the offing, driving impetuously under her bare poles to land; now tilting aloft on the surging waves, now plunging into the intervening hollows. Presently, she rushed among the rocks, and there struck, the billows beating over her deck, and climbing up her shattered rigging. “Mercy! mercy!” exclaimed an ancient solitary, as he viewed from the cliff the dismal scene. It was in vain. The ship fell on her side and was seen no more.

Soon, however, a small, dark object appeared coming from the rocks toward the shore; at first, dimly descried through the foam, then quite plain as it rode on the summit of a wave, then for a time totally lost. It approached, and showed itself to be a boat with men in it rowing for their lives. The solitary hastened down to the beach, and in all the agonizing vicissitudes of hope and fear watched its advance. At length, after the most imminent hazards, the boat was thrown violently on the shore, and the dripping, half-dead mariners crawled out on dry land.

“Heaven be praised!” cried the solitary, “what a providential escape!” And he led the poor men to his cell, where, kindling a good fire, and bringing out his little store of provisions, he restored them to health and spirits. “And are you six men the only ones saved?”—“That we are,” answered one of them. “Threescore and fifteen men, women, and children, were in the ship when she struck. You may think what a clamour and confusion there were: women clinging to their husbands’ necks, and children hanging about their clothes, all shrieking, crying, and praying! There was no time to be lost. We got out the small-boat in a twinkling—jumped in, without staying for our captain, who was fool enough to be minding the passengers—cut the rope, and pushed away just time enough to be clear of the ship as she went down; and here we are, all alive and merry!” An oath concluded his speech. The solitary was shocked, and could not help secretly wishing that it had pleased Providence to have saved some of the innocent passengers, rather than these reprobates.

The sailors having got what they could, departed, scarcely thanking their benefactor, and marched up the country. Night came on. They descried a light at some distance, and made up to it. It proceeded from the window of a good-looking house, surrounded with a farmyard and garden. They knocked at the door, and in a supplicating tone made known their distress, and begged relief. They were admitted, and treated with compassion and hospitality. In the house were the mistress, her children, and women-servants, an old man and a boy: the master was abroad. The sailors, sitting round the kitchen fire, whispered to each other that here was an opportunity of making a booty that would amply compensate for the loss of clothes and wages. They settled their plan; and on the old man’s coming with logs to the fire, one of them broke his scull with the poker, and laid him dead. Another took up a knife which had been brought with the loaf and cheese, and running after the boy, who was making his escape out of the house, stabbed him to the heart. The rest locked the doors, and after tying all the women and children, began to ransack the house. One of the children continuing to make loud exclamations, a fellow went and strangled it. They had nearly finished packing up such of the most valuable things as they could carry off, when the master of the house came home. He was a smuggler as well as a farmer, and had just returned from an expedition, leaving his companions with their goods at a neighbouring public-house. Surprised at finding the doors locked, and seeing lights moving about in the chambers, he suspected something amiss; and upon listening, he heard strange voices, and saw some of the sailors through the windows. He hastened back to his companions, and brought them with him just as the robbers opened the door, and were coming out with their pillage, having first set fire to the house, in order to conceal what they had done. The smuggler and his friends let fly their blunderbusses in the midst of them, and then rushing forward, seized the survivors, and secured them. Perceiving flames in the house, they ran and extinguished them. The villains were next day led to prison amid the curses of the neighbourhood.

The good solitary, on hearing of the event, at first exclaimed, “What a wonderful interference of Providence, to punish guilt, and protect innocence!” Pausing awhile, he added, “Yet had Providence thought fit to have drowned these sailors in their passage from the ship, where they left so many better people to perish, the lives of three innocent persons would have been saved, and these wretches would have died without such accumulated guilt and ignominy. On the other hand, had the master of the house been at home, instead of following a lawless and desperate trade, he would perhaps have perished with all his family, and the villains have escaped with their booty. What am I to think of all this?” Thus pensive and perplexed he laid him down to rest, and after some time spent in gloomy reflections, fell asleep.

In his dream he fancied himself seated on the top of a high mountain, where he was accosted by a venerable figure in a long white garment, who asked him the cause of the melancholy expressed on his countenance. “It is,” said he, “because I am unable to reconcile the decrees of Providence with my ideas of wisdom and justice.”—“That,” replied the stranger, “is probably because thy notions of Providence are narrow and erroneous. Thou seekest it in particular events, and dost not raise thy survey to the great whole. Every occurrence in the universe is providential, because it is the consequence of those laws which divine wisdom has established as most productive of the general good. But to select individual facts as more directed by the hand of Providence than others, because we think we see a particular good purpose answered by them, is an infallible inlet to error and superstition. Follow me to the edge of the cliff.” He seemed to follow.

“Now look down,” said the stranger, “and tell me what thou seest.” “I see,” replied the solitary, “a hawk darting amid a flock of small birds, one of which he has caught, while the others escape.”—“And canst thou think,” rejoined the stranger, “that the single bird made a prey of by the hawk lies under any particular doom of Providence, or that those who fly away are more the objects of divine favour than it? Hawks by nature were made to feed upon living prey, and were endowed with strength and swiftness to enable them to overtake and master it. Thus life is sacrificed to the support of life. But to this destruction limits are set. The small birds are much more numerous and prolific than the birds of prey; and though they cannot resist his force, they have dexterity and nimbleness of flight sufficient in general to elude his pursuit. It is in this balance that the wisdom of Providence is seen; and what can be a greater proof of it, than that both species, the destroyer and his prey, have subsisted together from their first creation? Now, look again, and tell me what thou seest.”

“I see,” said the solitary, “a thick black cloud gathering in the sky. I hear the thunder rolling from side to side of the vault of heaven. I behold the red lightning darting from the bosom of darkness. Now it has fallen on a stately tree and shattered it to pieces, striking to the ground an ox sheltered at its foot. Now it falls again in the midst of a flock of timorous sheep, and several of them are left on the plain;—and see! the shepherd himself lies extended by their side. Now it strikes a lofty spire, and at the same time sets in a blaze an humble cottage beneath. It is an awful and terrible sight!”

“It is so,” returned the stranger, “but what dost thou conclude from it? Dost thou not know, that from the genial heat which gives life to plants and animals, and ripens the fruits of the earth, proceeds this electrical fire, which ascending to the clouds, and charging them beyond what they are able to contain, is launched again in burning bolts to the earth? Must it leave its direct course to strike the tree rather than the dome of worship, or to spend its fury on the herd rather than the herdsman! Millions and millions of living creatures have owed their birth to this active element; and shall we think it strange if a few meet their deaths from it? Thus the mountain torrent that rushes down to fertilize the plain, in its course may sweep away the works of human industry, and man himself with them; but could its benefits be purchased at another price?”

“All this,” said the solitary, “I tolerably comprehend; but may I presume to ask whence have proceeded the moral evils of the painful scenes of yesterday? What good end is answered by making man the scourge of man, and preserving the guilty at the cost of the innocent?”

“That, too,” replied the venerable stranger, “is a consequence of the same wise laws of Providence. If it was right to make man a creature of habit, and render those things easy to him with which he is most familiar, the sailor, of course, must be better able to shift for himself in a shipwreck than the passenger; while that self-love, which is essential to the preservation of life must, in general, cause him to consult his own safety before that of others. The same force of habit in a way of life full of peril and hardship, must conduce to form a rough, bold, and unfeeling character. This, under the direction of principle, will make a brave man; without it, a robber and a murderer. In the latter case, human laws step in to remove the evil which they have not been able to prevent. Wickedness meets with the fate which sooner or later always awaits it; and innocence, though it occasionally suffers, is proved in the end to be the surest path to happiness.”

“But,” resumed the solitary, “can it be said that the lot of innocence is always preferable to that of guilt in this world?”

“If it cannot,” replied the other, “thinkest thou that the Almighty is unable to make retribution in a future world? Dismiss, then, from thy mind the care of single events, secure that the great whole is ordered for the best. Expect not a particular interposition of Heaven, because such an interposition would seem to thee seasonable. Thou, perhaps, wouldest stop the vast machine of the universe to save a fly from being crushed under its wheels. But innumerable flies and men are crushed every day, yet the grand motion goes on, and will go on, to fulfil the benevolent intentions of its Author.”

He ceased, and sleep on a sudden left the eyelids of the solitary. He looked abroad from his cell, and beheld all nature smiling around him. The rising sun shone in a clear sky. Birds were sporting in the air, and fish glancing on the surface of the waters. Fleets were pursuing their steady course, gently wafted by the pleasant breeze. Light fleecy clouds were sailing over the blue expanse of heaven. His soul sympathized with the scene, and peace and joy filled his bosom.