Hermit Of Antrim

There are portions of the north of Ireland where nature assnmes a grand and wild aspect. On the coast of Antrim there is no armistice in the fnrious battle that, since the flrst ages of the terrestrial globe, was engaged between the waves and the rocks. Columns of basalt, like gigantic sentinels, stand on guard to resist the invasión of the ocean, and the profound excavations made under the granite rocks that protect this portion of the soil of La Verte Erin prove that the waves must huve frequently inade most vigorous onslaughts and only retired after they had miued a land which they could not conquer. It is not diSicult to imagine that this majestic and desolate site should have eeduced one of the vanquished ones in life, one who had absolutely decided to separate himself from the society of man. The real hermits are becoming more and more rare - indeed, it was believed that they had completelv pearerl - but if a vocation for that singularly abziidoned professipn could still be feit by any one ie might be in the presence of the marvelous speetacle of that sea whose waves uever subside, of those grottos whose pillars and vaults possess a power which the art of the architect eau never equal. Nature herself seerns to have created in those rocks a refvige for the shipwitcked, for the proscribed and perhaps also for those who despise the vanities of life. About ten years ago a mysterious individual made his home in the grottoes of the coast of Antrim. The approach of any human being seemed to inspire him with au invincible repugnance. As soon as the cavern which he had selected for his refuge was disoovered by the fishernien of the neighborhood he immediately disappeafed and took up his quarters 20 or 30 kilometers on in another retreat which appeared more inaccessible. For a few months his domicile was in an old abandoned mine, the principal gallery of which advanced ■onder the ground to the distance of about flve kilometers, but as thé inhabitants of the nearest village had long before carried away the beams that sustained the vault to convert them into firewood the hermit was obliged to quit that dangerous refuge, where be was constantly exposed to the danger of beLng buried alive. So he installed himself in a grotto, the access to which was more easily discovered, but it was less obscure,4ess humid and less liable to cave in. here he flattered himself that ie would find at least some of the conditions of existence that belonged to the men of the caverns. But it was in rain ;hat he hoped to return to the life of ;he first ages of prehistorie humanity. He was obliged to pay tribute to the exigencies of civilization and to mani"est less repugnance for all contact with lis fellow beings. One day he found an empty barrel ;hat the tempest had tossed upon the shore, and he could not resist the temp;ation of bringing it home to serve as a jed. Some indiscreet persons, taking advantage of his absence to visit his apartments, discovered that he had a t)ot for cookiiig his food. Where did ;hat cookiug utensil come from? Was it also a piece of wreckage rollcd up upon ;he sand by the furious waves. or was it the last souvenir of civilized life carried away by the anchorite who, while endeavoring to return to the conditions of existence that belonged to prehistorie times, could not abandon the habit of cookmg Jais tood.' That is a question which has never been answered, and it is also impossible to find out where he gets the potatoes upon which he lives. Did they come from the discreet charity of the poor fishermen of the ueighborhood, who at the proper time renewed bis provisions, or in separa ting himself frota theworld did he make arrangements for the transportation of his modest provisions? That is also a mystery which has never been fathomed. One poiut, however, is certain, and that is that the hermit determined to live upon potatoes alone. One day a sailor offered him half of his dinner. The hermit pretended to be glad to accept the gift, but he never touched the food. In the absence of the kind hearted sailor he tossed it iuto the sea. Apparently he also vowed that he would never enter a house and never touch a piece of money. He kept his resolutions. Nothing could ever induce him to cross the threshold of auy one of the little houses of the fishermen, who began to have a sort of affection for him, and never once was he known to beg. The only liberality that he would accept and that he solicited from the muuificence of strangers was a match to light the firewood gathered for cooking his potatoes. The Rev. J. H. Bernard endeavored to lift the veil that hid the origin and antecedents of this mysterious personage. The ïnan of the caverns of Antrirn endeavors in vain to live the life of a savage. It has been recognized by more than one sign that he has received a good education. From time to time he reads to the fishermen some passages from the Bible, but he never comments upon them. There is no evidence going to prove that the man has any particular form of insanity beyond, perhaps, the harmless one of the love of solitude. He is always clean and neat in appearance and seems to be sound and vigorotis in body. He speaks with no accent, so that it is impossible to lix the locality from which he came. He seldom smiles, but he doesn't look sad. Ou the contrary, he has a resigued and perfectly satiffierl look. "Who he is and why in the world he lives such au extraordinary life nobody can teil.