1 82 June — The Anchorite and the Cicada. 



hills, there arc fish in the clear streams, and the bees 

 feed on the wild thyme, and the cicada drinks the dew. 

 So permanent are sylvan things, that Virgil described 

 prospectively all these neighbors of mine just nineteen 

 hundred years ago. Neighbors, indeed ! though, per- 

 haps, it is not very neighborly of me to shoot the wild 

 boars, and catch the trout, and take the honey from the 

 bees ; but my conscience is clear as to the cicada, — her 

 I have never injured or robbed, not being able to see 

 my advantage in so doing ; and, therefore, I will call 

 her 'neighbor' without remorse. As we have been 

 quoting Latin lately, I may recall what an anchorite of 

 the desert said with a true affection for this humble 

 creature, that he had learned in the depth of his soli- 

 tude, — ' Soror, arnica mea, cicada /' — ' My sister, and 

 friend, cicada ! ' I never see one of them without think- 

 ing of this, and loving that holy anchorite. 



