_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