A Traveler was once passing through a great wilderness, in which he
supposed no human being dwelt. But, while riding along in its gloomiest
part, he was surprised to see a hermit, his face covered with a long
beard, that hung down upon his breast, sitting on a stone at the
entrance of what seemed a cave.
The hermit arose as the traveler drew up his horse, and speaking kindly to
him, invited him to accept such refreshment as it was in his power to
offer. The traveler did not refuse, but, dismounting, tied his horse to a
tree, and, following the pious man, entered the narrow door of a little
cave which nature had formed in the side of a mountain. All the hermit had
to set before the traveler, was water from a pure stream that came merrily
leaping down the hill side, and some wild fruit and nuts.
"Tell me," said the traveler, after he had eaten, "why a man with a sound
body, such as you possess, and a sound mind, should hide away from his
fellow-men, in a dreary wild like this?"
"For pious meditation and repentance," replied the hermit. "All is vanity
in the world. Its beauties charm but to allure from heaven. And worse than
this, it is full of evil. Turn where you will, pain, sorrow, and crime meet
your eyes. But here, in the silence of nature, there is nothing to draw the
mind from holy thoughts; there is no danger of falling into temptation. By
pious meditation and prayer, we are purified and made fit for heaven."
"Not so," answered the traveler; "pious meditation and prayer are of no
avail without good be done to our fellow-men. Piety is nothing without
charity; and charity consists in willing well and doing well to our
neighbors. 'And now abideth faith, hope, and charity,' says the Apostle,
'but the greatest of these is charity,' Hermit, you are not wise thus to
retire from the midst of the busy world. Your service cannot be acceptable
to God. Go back again among your fellow-men, and faithfully perform your
real duties in life. Heal the sick, comfort the mourner, bind up the broken
heart, and in the various walks of life do good to friend and enemy.
Without this, how can you hope in the judgment to hear the Lord say, 'As
much as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me?'"
The hermit, at such unexpected words, bowed his head, and was silent. The
traveler went on, and said--
"You have committed a common error, in supposing that in holy meditation,
as it is called, there was any thing particularly pleasing to God. But
reason will tell you why the widow's mite is more acceptable in heaven than
the most pious thoughts of idle self-righteousness. Hermit! go back again
into the world, and there act your part as a man in the great social body.
Only by this means will you be prepared to live and act in the great body
of angels in heaven."
The hermit could not reply, but still sat with his head bowed to his bosom,
and his eyes upon the ground. The words of the stranger fell with strokes
of reproof upon his heart.
When the traveler returned that way, he sought for the hermit, but found
him not at the door of his cave. He entered, but the place had been a long
time deserted. The erring man had gone back into the world, and taken his
place among his fellows. And he had done right. No man is wise who retires
from society, and shuts himself up in the hope of becoming better through
prayer and pious thoughts. Only by doing our duty to our fellow-men, in
some particular pursuit in life, can we hope to grow better and wiser?