en special account; the envy that rules
in small communities would soon have suppressed them. The influence
which old Solomon had over his equals had grown so simply and naturally,
that no one found any fault with it, and it had only attracted notice
when everyone was benefiting by it, like those fine trees whose growth is
only observed when we profit by their shade. If any dispute arose in the
island, the two opponents preferred to abide by the judgment of the
fisherman instead of going before the court; he was fortunate enough or
clever enough to send away both parties satisfied. He knew what remedies
to prescribe better than any physician, for it seldom happened that he or
his had not felt the same ailments, and his knowledge, founded on
personal experience, produced the most excellent results. Moreover, he
had no interest, as ordinary doctors have, in prolonging illnesses. For
many years past the only formality recognised as a guarantee for the
inviolability of a contract had been the intervention of the fisherman.
Each party shook hands with Solomon, and the thing was done. They would
rather have thrown themselves into Vesuvius at the moment of its most
violent eruption than have broken so solemn an agreement. At the period
when our story opens, it was impossible to find any person in the island
who had not felt the effects of the fisherman's generosity, and that
without needing to confess to him any necessities. As it was the custom
for the little populace of Nisida to spend its leisure hours before
Solomon's cottage, the old man, while he walked slowly among the
different groups, humming his favourite song, discovered moral and
physical weaknesses as he passed; and the same evening he or his daughter
would certainly be seen coming mysteriously to bestow a benefit upon
every sufferer, to lay a balm upon every wound. In short, he united in
his person all those occupations whose business is to help mankind.
Lawyers, doctors, and the notary, all the vultures of civilisation, had
beaten a retreat before the patriarchal benevolence of the fisherman.
Even the priest had capitulated.

On the morrow of the Feast of the Assumption, Solomon was sitting, as his
habit was, on a stone bench in front of his house, his legs crossed and
his arms carelessly stretched out. At the first glance you would have
taken him for sixty at the outside, though he was really over eighty. He
had all his teeth, which were as white as p