Now as concerns our household stuff, we had enough: for we had a shovel, a pick, an axe, a hatchet, and an iron pot for cooking, which was indeed not our own, but lent to us by the said pastor: each of us had an old blunt knife, which same were our own possessions, and no more: more than that needed we naught, neither dishes, plates, spoons, nor forks: neither kettles, frying-pans, gridirons, spits, salt-cellars, no, nor any other table and kitchen ware: for our iron pot was our dish, our hands our forks and spoons: and if we would drink, we could do so through a pipe from the spring or else we dipped our mouths like Gideon's soldiers. Then for garments: of wool, of silk, of cotton, and of linen, as for beds, table-covers, and tapestries, we had none save what we wore upon our bodies: for we deemed it enough if we could shield ourselves from rain and frost. At other times we kept no rule or order in our household, save on Sundays and holy-days, at which time we would start on our way at midnight, so that we might come early enough to escape men's notice, to the said pastor's church, which was a little away from the village, and there might attend service. When we came thither we betook ourselves to the broken organ, from which place we could see both altar and pulpit: and when I first saw the pastor go up to the pulpit I asked my hermit what he would do in that great tub! So, service finished, we went home as secretly as we had come, and when we found ourselves once more at home, with weary body and weary feet, then did we eat foul food with fair appetite: then would the hermit spend the rest of the day in praying and in the instructing of me in holy things.

On working days we would do that which seemed most necessary to do, according as it happened, and as such was required by the time of year and by our needs: now would we work in the garden: another time we gathered together the rich mould in shady places and out of hollow trees to improve our garden therewith in place of dung; again we would weave baskets or fishing-nets or chop firewood, or go a-fishing, or do aught to banish idleness. Yet among all these occupations did the good hermit never cease to instruct me faithfully in all good things: and meanwhile did I learn, in such a hard life, to endure hunger, thirst, heat, cold, and great labour, and before all things to know God and how one should serve Him best, which was the chiefest thing of all. And indeed my faithful hermit would have me know no more, for he held it was enough for any Christian to attain his end and aim, if he did but constantly pray and work: so it came about that, though I was pretty well instructed in ghostly matters, and knew my Christian belief well enough, and could speak the German language as well as a talking spelling-book, yet I remained the most simple lad in the world: so that when I left the wood I was such a poor, sorry creature that no dog would have left his bone to run after me.

Chap. xii.: TELLS OF A NOTABLE FINE WAY, TO DIE HAPPY AND TO HAVE ONESELF BURIED AT SMALL COST

So had I spent two years or thereabouts, and had scarce grown accustomed to the hard life of a hermit, when one day my best friend on earth took his pick, gave me the shovel, and led me by the hand, according to his daily custom, to our garden, where we were wont to say our prayers.

"Now Simplicissimus, dear child," said he, "inasmuch as, God be praised, the time is at hand when I must part from this earth and must pay the debt of nature, and leave thee behind me in this world, and whereas I do partly foresee the future course of thy life and do know well that thou wilt not long abide in this wilderness, therefore did I desire to strengthen thee in the way of virtue which thou hast entered on, and to give thee some lessons for thy instruction by means of which thou shouldest so rule thy life that, as though by an unfailing clue, thou mightest find thy way to eternal happiness, and so with all elect saints mightest be found worthy for ever to behold the face of God in that other life."

These words did drown mine eyes in tears, even as once the enemy's device did drown the town of Villingen; in a word, they were so terrible that I could not endure them, but said: "Beloved father, wilt thou then leave me alone in this wild wood? Must I then ...?" And more I could not say, for my heart's sorrow was, by reason of the overflowing love which I bore to my true father, so grievous that I sank at his feet as if I were dead. Yet did he raise me up and comfort me so far as time and opportunity did allow, and would shew me mine own error, in that he asked, would I rebel against the decree of the Almighty? "and knowest thou not," says he, "that neither heaven nor hell can do that? Nay, nay, my son! Why dost thou propose further to burden my weak body, which of itself is but desirous of rest? Thinkest thou to force me to sojourn longer in this vale of tears? Ah no, my son, let me go, for in any case neither with lamentation and tears, nor still less with my good will, canst thou compel me to dwell longer in this misery when I am by God's express will called away therefrom: instead of all this useless clamour, follow thou my last words, which are these: the longer thou livest seek to know thyself the better, and if thou live as long as Methuselah, yet let not such practice depart from thy heart: for that most men do come to perdition this is the cause--namely, that they know not what they have been and what they can or must be." And further he exhorted me, I should at all times beware of bad company: for the harm of that was unspeakable. Of that he gave me an example, saying: "If thou puttest a drop of malmsey into a vessel full of vinegar, forthwith it turns to vinegar: but if thou pour a drop of vinegar into malmsey, that drop will disappear into the wine. Beloved son, before all things be steadfast: for whoso endureth to the end he shall be saved; but if it happen, contrary to my hopes, that thou from human weakness dost fall, then by a fitting penitence raise thyself up again."

Now this careful and pious man gave me but this brief counsel, not because he knew no more, but because in sober truth I seemed to him, by reason of my youth, not able to comprehend more in such a case, and again, because few words be better to hold in remembrance than long discourse, and if they have pith and point do work greater good when they be pondered on than any long sermon, which a man may well understand as spoken and yet is wont presently to forget. And these three points: to know oneself: to avoid bad company: and to stand steadfast; this holy man, without doubt, deemed good and necessary because he had made trial of them in his own case and had not found them to fail: for, coming to know himself, he eschewed not only bad company but that of the whole world, and in that plan did persevere to the end, on which doubtless all salvation doth depend.

So when he had thus spoken, he began with his mattock to dig his own grave: and I helped as best I could in whatever way he bade me; yet did I not conceive to what end all this was. Then said he: "My dear and only true son (for besides thee I never begat creature for the honour of our Creator), when my soul is gone to its own place, then do thy duty to my body, and pay me the last honours: cover me up with these same clods which we have even now dug from this pit," And thereupon he took me in his arms and, kissing me, pressed me harder to his breast than would seem possible for a man so weak as he appeared to be. And, "Dear child," says he, "I commend thee to God his protection, and die the more cheerfully because I hope He will receive thee therein." Yet could I do naught but lament and cry, yea, did hang upon the chains which he wore on his neck, and thought thereby to prevent him from leaving me. But "My son," says he, "let me go, that I may see if the grave be long enough for me." And therewith he laid aside the chains together with his outer garment, and so entered the pit even as one that will lie down to sleep, saying, "Almighty God, receive again the soul that Thou hast given: Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit." Thereupon did he calmly close his lips and his eyes: while I stood there like a stockfish, and dreamt not that his dear soul could so have left the body: for often I had seen him in such trances: and so now, as was my wont in such a case, I waited there for hours praying by the grave. But when my beloved hermit arose not again, I went down into the grave to him and began to shake, to kiss, and to caress him: but there was no life in him, for grim and pitiless death had robbed the poor Simplicissimus of his holy companionship. Then did I bedew or, to say better, did embalm with my tears his lifeless body, and when I had for a long time run up and down with miserable cries, began to heap earth upon him, with more sighs than shovelfuls: and hardly had I covered his face when I must go down again and uncover it afresh that I might see it and kiss it once more. And so I went on all day till I had finished, and in this way ended all the funeral; an "exequiae" and "ludi gladiatorii" wherein neither bier, coffin, pall, lights, bearers, nor mourners were at hand, nor any clergy to sing over the dead.

Chap. xiii.: HOW SIMPLICISSIMUS WAS DRIVEN ABOUT LIKE A STRAW IN A WHIRLPOOL

Now a few days after the hermit's decease I betook myself to the pastor above mentioned and declared to him my master's death, and therewith besought counsel from him how I should act in such a case. And though he much dissuaded me from living longer in the forest, yet did I boldly tread on in my predecessor's footsteps, inasmuch as for the whole summer I did all that a holy monk should do. But as time changeth all things, so by degrees the grief which I felt for my hermit grew less and less, and the sharp cold of winter without quenched the heat of my steadfast purpose within. And the more I began to falter the lazier did I become in my prayers, for in place of dwelling ever upon godly and heavenly thoughts, I let myself be overcome by the desire to see the world: and inasmuch as for this purpose I could do no good in my forest, I determined to go again to the said pastor and ask if he again would counsel me to leave the wood. To that end I betook myself to his village, which when I came thither I found in flames: for a party of troopers had but now plundered and burned it, and of the peasants killed some, driven some away, and some had made prisoners, among whom was the pastor himself. Ah God, how full is man's life of care and disappointment! Scarce hath one misfortune ended and lo! we are in another. I wonder not that the heathen philosopher Timon set up many gallows at Athens, whereon men might string themselves up, and so with brief pain make an end to their wretched life. These troopers were even now ready to march, and had the pastor fastened by a rope to lead him away. Some cried, "Shoot him down, the rogue!" Others would have money from him. But he, lifting up his hands to heaven, begged, for the sake of the Last Judgment, for forbearance and Christian compassion, but in vain; for one of them rode him down and dealt him such a blow on the head that he fell flat, and commended his soul to God. Nor did the remainder of the captured peasants fare any better. But even when it seemed these troopers, in their cruel tyranny, had clean lost their wits, came such a swarm of armed peasants out of the wood, that it seemed a wasps'-nest had been stirred. And these began to yell so frightfully and so furiously to attack with sword and musket that all my hair stood on end; and never had I been at such a merrymaking before: for the peasants of the Spessart and the Vogelsberg are as little wont as are the Hessians and men of the Sauerland and the Black Forest to let themselves be crowed over on their own dunghill. So away went the troopers, and not only left behind the cattle they had captured, but threw away bag and baggage also, and so cast all their booty to the winds lest themselves should become booty for the peasants: yet some of them fell into their hands. This sport took from me well-nigh all desire to see the world, for I thought, if 'tis all like this, then is the wilderness far more pleasant. Yet would I fain hear what the pastor had to say of it, who was, by reason of wounds and blows received, faint, weak, and feeble. Yet he made shift to tell me he knew not how to help or advise me, since he himself was now in a plight in which he might well have to seek his bread by begging, and if I should remain longer in the woods, I could hope no more for help from him; since, as I saw with my own eyes, both his church and his parsonage were in flames. Thereupon I betook myself sorrowfully to my dwelling in the wood, and because on this journey I had been but little comforted, yet on the other hand had become more full of pious thoughts, therefore I resolved never more to leave the wilderness: and already I pondered whether it were not possible for me to live without salt (which the pastor had until now furnished me with) and so do without mankind altogether.