at his side, and waving feathers of rare birds in his hat.  A troop of servants accompanied him, and by his side rode Moors on African camels, holding a canopy over him to protect him from the sun, and fanning him into coolness with flowery fans.  They brought with them fruits of the East and the South in golden dishes, tasty fishes and game, rare wines and incense, and pillows for sleeping on.  During its progress the procession met black figures carrying a dead man.  The body lay swathed in white linen on a high board, and a raven circled round it in the air.  Simeon turned indignantly away; he had a horror of all that was dead.  He scattered coins among the mourners, for he would have liked to throw a gay covering adorned with precious stones over all sorrow and mourning.

When he reached the mountains his horse began to stumble and falter.  The steed’s hoofs were insecure on the ringing flat stones; he reared his head and snorted, and would not go on.  Simeon took counsel how he was to proceed.  Natives leading mules came by, and offered them to him, but he refused.  He could not go to the Prophet who held the key to imperishable wealth and eternal life on such contemptible beasts.  His slaves had to make a litter, and he lay under its glittering canopy on soft cushions, while six Moors bore their master thus into the desert.  When they rested at an oasis, it was like a royal camp; servants handed him water from the spring in a crystal goblet, skilful cooks prepared the meal; beautiful women, whose skin was soft as velvet and brown as copper, spread out their black hair for him and delighted him with harp-playing, while armed men kept watch against the desert chief, Barabbas.

The country became more and more uninviting, and it was almost impossible to avoid many discomforts.  Simeon remembered the comfort of his palace in Jerusalem, and contemplated turning back.  And yet the thought of the wise man who could help him to immortality proved too attractive.  People came over the bare hills who told of the teacher at the other extreme of the desert, how He gathered at times all kinds of people round Him and spoke of the everlasting Kingdom of God.  And so the swaying litter went on farther, and the next day reached the valley through dry rocky ravines, and found there a few olive and fig trees.  People crowded round one of the fig trees; they were for the most part poor, sad-looking creatures, miserable outcasts wandering, homeless and loveless, here and there.  Clothed in scanty rags, their forms bent, they turned their faces towards the tree, for there He stood and spoke.

“Be ye not sad nor cast down.  You miss nothing of the world’s attractions.  Yours is the Father and His Kingdom.  Trust in Him; you are His.  You shall be made glad through love; things will be easier for you if you love than if you hate.  And in every misfortune that comes upon you, keep a steadfast soul, and then you have nothing to lose.”