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“Blessed are the Meek.”

About three thousand years before the birth of the Holy Prophet there lived at the foot of God’s Holy Mountain a very pious and devout old man.

He was most scrupulous in his attention to all details of religious observance and was renowned throughout the land for his piety and devotion. He was a shining light to all his fellows, and he knew it, and was very pleased about it. And if you didn’t know it, he told you, so that you should know.

He was so very religious that he came eventually to regard himself as almost on speaking terms with God. He knew Moses, at any rate, and his life and conduct met with the approval and commendation of that great man.

One morning as he was engaged in his early devotions he saw Moses approaching in the distance and, ceasing his prayers, he hastened to meet him and make his customary obeisance.

Moses informed him, in response to his inquiry, that he was about to ascend the mountain to have his periodical audience of the Almighty, and to put certain terrestrial matters before Him.

Hearing this the devout old man craved a boon.

“What do you wish?” asked Moses.

“Simply this, great prophet,” replied the old man, “I would know what reward the good God has for me in the world to come. I have been a faithful servant, as He well knows, and as I grow old I realize that the time cannot be far off when I shall leave this vale of tears for the happier realms above. It would set my mind at rest and render my declining years more peaceful if I could be sure that a place was reserved for me in that blessed abode.”

“Certainly,” replied Moses, “a most reasonable request. I shall be most happy to lay it before the Almighty, though I cannot promise that He will grant your wish. These things are generally regarded as belonging to the hidden mysteries, and are not usually divulged to ordinary mortals. Still He may make an exception for you. Rest assured that I will make a strong representation of your case, which is no more than you deserve.”

So saying, Moses bade farewell and continued his arduous climb up the steep and rocky ascent.

Halfway up the hill the Prophet paused to rest and wipe the perspiration from his brow, and he had no sooner settled himself beneath the shade of a stately cedar tree than his ear was assailed by the twittering of a shepherd’s pipe—a moment later a young goatherd made his appearance before him and bowed low in reverence to the great lawgiver.

“Humble greeting to our Holy Prophet,” murmured the young goatherd.

“And a greeting to you, young man of ill repute,” returned the Prophet.

“Ill repute that for once does not lie, your Reverence,” replied the young man. “I’m afraid I’m a bad lot. I try to keep straight, but I find it very hard, and the good resolutions I make don’t last very long.”

“I hear a great deal of your evil tendencies, my son,” continued the Prophet. “I hear of amorous escapades with young shepherdesses in the valley below, and of drinking bouts with fellow goatherds, and I hear nothing of your attention to your devotions. Are these things true?”

“Only too true, most reverend sir,” confessed the young man. “I love the girls—I can’t help it. They rather like me, you know. It would be easier if that were not so. And I love a skinful of good wine, and I don’t seem to be able to spare much time for my devotions. I am guilty of all these sins, may God forgive me. I’m afraid I’m a very bad lot.”

Moses gazed austerely at the smiling criminal as he said: “It is possible, but not probable, that you may be forgiven. Give up the girls, and give up the wine, and all may yet be well.”

“I’m afraid that’s more than I can promise,” replied the sinner. “I don’t know how it is, but I suppose I was born this way. I wish I were like the holy man at the foot of the hill, but he’s that and I’m this, and I suppose God made us both in our particular ways. He wanted that old man to be a saint, and He didn’t want me to be, so there he is and here am I. I don’t understand these things but I reckon only a few of us were meant to be saints, and as for my sins, I acknowledge them and I truly believe in God and in a merciful God—perhaps He won’t be too hard on me when the time comes.”

“Unrepentant young villain,” Moses stormed at him, “there’s no forgiveness for such as you,” and he rose to his feet to continue his upward climb.

“I am truly sorry that I am so bad, but I may get better some day,” said the goatherd in apologetic tones. “Is your Reverence ascending the mountain to confer with the Almighty? If that is so, may such a miserable sinner humbly beg a favour?”

“What is your wish?”

“When you reach the Divine Presence and have received from Him the guidance you seek, would you kindly ask Him what fate is prepared for me in the next world?”

“For you, blasphemer and evil-doer?” roared the Prophet, “how dare you make such a presumptuous request?”

“Never mind. I know I’m wicked, and God knows it too. But we’re all His children and I do beg of you to do what I ask.”

Without giving a final assent or dissent, Moses turned to pursue his climb, and the weightier matters that occupied his thoughts soon put all recollection of the dissolute goatherd out of his mind.

Arrived at the summit of the mountain, he was admitted to the Divine Presence, and received the counsel he sought.

At the close of the communication the Prophet asked, and obtained, permission to prefer a request.

“The devout man who lives at the foot of the mountain, humbly begs that he may be informed of the fate that awaits him in the next world.”

In response to the request the sky grew dark, then there was a burst of thunder, the clouds were rent in twain, and through the open space the Prophet saw a vision of a beautiful mansion standing in green pastures watered by streams of milk and honey. Then the space closed and the clouds cleared away.

Making a deep reverence, Moses was preparing to depart when he heard the voice of the Almighty asking if the holy man was the only one who had made such a request.

Then he remembered the goatherd, and, with many apologies, made a similar petition on his behalf.

Again the black clouds gathered and were rent, and in the open space the Prophet saw a dreadful lake of burning brimstone that filled his soul with horror.

Now taking his final leave Moses was accompanied for a short distance on the downward path by an angel, with whom he conversed.

They discussed the two visions that had just been revealed to the Prophet, and the latter dwelt on the dreadful prospect of the second vision.

The angel left him a little later, and at parting said: “Remember that those two visions refer to things as they are at this present moment. Whether the prospects remain the same for the two individuals in the actual hour of death is a matter that is entirely settled by their conduct from day to day. I think you might warn both of the mortals of this.”

After parting with the angel, Moses proceeded leisurely on the downward path, and a little more than halfway down he was confronted by the flippant goatherd, who, after making due obeisance, inquired if he had any answer to give to his question.

“I have indeed,” solemnly replied the Prophet. “I will tell you exactly what happened. But remember, I warned you that it would be wiser not to ask. So convinced was I of the futility of your request that it entirely slipped my mind, and I was actually about to withdraw from the Divine Presence, when He called me back and asked me if there was nothing I had forgotten. Then I remembered, and I put your request before Him. In reply I was vouchsafed a vision of your terrible doom. A lake of brimstone, boiling and seething with horrid blue flames, into which the wicked are cast—not to die, but to linger in torment for ever. Such, young man, is the prospect that lies before you.”

As Moses ceased speaking, he was astonished to see the effect of his words on the goatherd. He had expected to see a poor repentant wretch cowering before him, instead of which he saw the young man’s face beaming with exultant smiles as he leaped into the air and bounded over the rocks and shouting the praises of Jehovah, apparently in an ecstasy of joy.

He thought it wise to make the matter clearer, so he repeated: “I’m afraid you didn’t quite understand me, child of Satan. I don’t think you realize the terrible doom that lies before you—to be boiled for ever in a seething lake of brimstone fire.”

“Oh, but I understand thoroughly,” replied the young man, continuing his ecstatic leaps and praises to Jehovah.

“Then why this strange behaviour?”

“I’ll explain,” said the goatherd, ceasing for a moment from his demonstrations of joy. “That I should be boiled for ever in a brimstone lake seems only right and fitting. I’ve done a lot of naughty things, and I suppose I’ll have to pay for them. I could have guessed all that without troubling you to ask. But the astounding thing that God should have remembered me when even you forgot me, overwhelms me with joy. Don’t you see what that shows me? That however evil a man may be he still remains one of God’s children. I never thought of that before, nor did you. I thought I was a child of Satan, as you unkindly called me just now. But I’m not, you see, I’m one of God’s children after all,” and as he finished speaking he leaped over a neighbouring bush and disappeared round a rocky corner in search of his goats, still vociferating the praises of Jehovah—the Just, the Merciful, and the Father of All.

Descending the mountain, musing over the extraordinary behaviour of the young man, Moses soon reached the abode of the devout old man, who was standing at his door eagerly awaiting the return of the Prophet with an answer to his inquiry.

“For you,” said Moses, “a beautiful palace is prepared in a wonderful grove of trees bearing every imaginable blossom and fruit. The palace is surrounded with verdant pastures, watered by streams of milk and honey.”

A pleased expression showed itself on the old man’s countenance, but there was nothing approaching ecstasy, nor even of surprise, as he commented:

“How beautiful. You almost describe what I had myself expected. That is just about what I felt sure the Almighty would bestow on me as a reward of my long life of devotion and piety. I won’t say I have earned it, but honestly I do think I have merited something of the sort. And the walls? Did you notice? Were they of Jasper and Chalcedony?”

“I hardly noticed. I think they were just ordinary walls.”

“H’m.... And the door, was it of Gold?”

“No, just some beautiful wood.”

“H’m.... Only ordinary wood?”

Noticing a tinge of disappointment in the old man’s voice Moses comforted him by saying: “The angel, by the way, told me to impress upon you that this was to-day’s arrangement and was not to be regarded as permanent. Changes may occur as time goes on.”

“Ah,” responded the devout man. “I see. I’ll double my devotions henceforth, and then I’ll get the walls of Chalcedony and Jasper, and the doors of Gold.”

“Perhaps,” said the Prophet as he took his leave.

A year later a terrible storm burst over the lower slopes of the mountain, and both the devout old man and the thoughtless goatherd were swept into eternity.

At the Judgment-seat the pious ancient proudly confronted his Creator, while the poor goatherd stood trembling beside him in an attitude of deep humility.

Then with a peal of thunder the judgment went forth, and the old man was thrown into the lake of ever-burning brimstone, while the goatherd was conducted by a band of angels to the beautiful abode in the grove of trees watered by streams of milk and honey.