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a spade, a pick, an axe, a hatchet and an iron pot for cooking, which did not actually belong to us, but were borrowed from the pastor mentioned above, and each of us had a worn, blunt knife. These were our property, and that was all. We did not need bowls, plates, spoons, forks, cauldrons, frying pans, a grill, a spit, a salt cellar or other items of crockery and kitchenware, for our pot served as our bowl, and our hands were our forks and spoons. If we wanted to drink, we did it from the spring through a reed, or we dipped our mouths in, like Gideon’s warriors. As for all kinds of cloth – wool, silk, cotton and linen – for bedding, table-cloths and wall-hangings, we had nothing but what we stood up in, since we believed we had enough if we could protect ourselves from rain and frost.
    There was no regular order or routine to our doings, apart from on Sundays and feast days, when we set off around midnight so that we could reach the church of the above-mentioned pastor, which lay some way out of the village, early enough to avoid being seen by anyone. While we were waiting for the service to start we sat on the broken organ, from where we could see both the altar and the pulpit. The first time I saw the pastor climb up into the latter, I asked my hermit what he was going to do in that huge tub? After the service we slipped away just as quietly as we had come. And when we reached our home, weary in body and legs, we ate our poor meal with a good appetite. The rest of the time the hermit spent praying or instructing me in holy matters.
    On workdays we did whatever needed doing most, depending on the season and the time we had at our disposal. Sometimes we would work in the garden, at others we collected the rich compost from shady spots and out of hollow trees to use instead of dung to improve our garden; we would weave baskets or fish-nets, chop up firewood, fish or do anything to banish idleness. And while we went about all these tasks, the hermit never ceased instructing me in all good things. It was a tough life, and I learnt to endure hunger, thirst, heat, cold and hard work, but above all to know God and to serve Him honestly, which was the most important lesson. And that was all my faithful hermit wanted me to learn, for he thought it was enough for a Christian to reach his goal if he worked hard and prayed hard. And that was why, although I had been well enough taught in religious matters, and understood my Christian belief – and also could speak German as beautifully if it was the spelling book itself speaking – yet I remained a simpleton. When I left the woods I cut such a sorry figure in the world that even the dogs ignored me.

Chapter 12
     

Reports on a fine way to come to a blessed end and get oneself buried cheaply
     
    One day after about two years, when I was still scarcely accustomed to the hard life of a hermit, my best friend on earth took his pick, gave me the spade and, following his daily habit, led me by the hand into our garden where we used to say our prayers.
    ‘Now Simplicius, my dear child’, he said, ‘the time has come, praise be to God, for me to depart this life, to pay my debt to nature and leave you behind in the world. And since I can foresee some of the things that will befall you in your life and well know that you will not stay long in this wilderness, I have determined to give you some precepts to strengthen you on the path of virtue on which you have started out. These will be an infallible guide and will lead you, if you live your life according to them, to eternal bliss and you will be found worthy to join the elect, beholding the face of God for all eternity.’
    These words flooded my eyes with tears, just as the dam the Swedes constructed flooded the town of Villingen. They were more than I could bear, but I said, ‘Dearest father, are you going to leave me alone in this wild forest? Then shall –’ More I could not say. My heart overflowed with love for my father