'Syaad Harshim selected Nudghiff Usheruff for his sojourn, and the business of a woodman for a calling. The piety of his life, and the goodness of his heart, drew upon him the respect of the inhabitants of the city. It was his practice to spend every day in the jungle (wilderness) cutting fire-wood, of which he gave a light burthen to his ass; and returning towards evening to the populated city, he found ready customers for the load which his day's labour produced. His honesty and love of truth were proverbial: he asked the price for his wood which he intended to take; if more was offered, it was rejected,—if less, he would not accept it.
'One evening, a man of superior address to his usual customers, but poorly clad, met him at the entrance of the street, and bargained for the load of wood. Syaad Harshim was penetrating, and could not help expressing his surprise at the circumstance of one, evidently moving in a higher sphere, being there to purchase wood. "I see," said the Syaad to the purchaser, "that your station is superior to your circumstances!—How is this?"—"My story," replied the stranger, "is not, I fear, uncommon in this age of the world. I will relate it briefly:—I was once a rich man, and my mind was set on making the pilgrimage. Aware that valuables and money would be an incumbrance to me on my journey, I applied to the Kauzy of this city to take charge of all my worldly riches during my absence, to which he readily consented, and having packed my jewels, money, and valuables in a strong chest with a good lock, I gave it into his charge and departed.
'"My pilgrimage accomplished, and tired of a wandering life, I returned home after a few years' absence, waited on the Kauzy, and applied for the treasure I had deposited in his care; he denied all knowledge of me or my valuables, pretended not to understand me, called me an impostor, and eventually drove me from his house with violence. I again tried the Kauzy by expostulation, and sent my friends to him, but all without benefit; for here I am as you see me, Syaad Harshim, reduced to penury by the Kauzy's injustice. The world esteems him a person of great character, and condemns me as the unjust one. Well! I can say no more; I know that God is merciful, I put my trust in Him!" "Ameen," responded the Syaad, "do you so, and it will yet be well with you."
'The stranger lingered with the sympathizing Woodman, and after some time had elapsed he asked him if he would interest himself with the Kauzy to effect a restitution of his rights, adding, "All are willing to give you, O Syaad, great credit for superior virtues." Harshim replied he had no merit to call for his fellow-mortals' good opinion, but as he felt interested in the affair he would certainly visit the unjust man, and requested the stranger to meet him at the Kauzy's door on the following morning.
'Arrived at the Kauzy's residence, Harshim was received with evident pleasure, for though but a woodman, he yet was known to be a person of superior rank, and a man universally respected for his great piety. After the common salutations, the Syaad stated the object of his visit, assuring the Kauzy he was actuated purely by good feelings towards him in the part he had undertaken;—being desirous only of preserving his soul from the evil that attended the unjust men of this world, who die without repentance and restitution to those whom they have injured. Then calling the stranger forward, he said with firmness of voice and manner, "Behold this man! he left money and jewels in your charge whilst he went on his duty to the pilgrimage; he comes now to demand his property, give back his chest of treasures without delay, honestly and justly, as you hope for mercy in a future state!"
'The Kauzy answered, "I have it not, Syaad Harshim, you may believe me; this fellow wickedly raises the falsehood to injure me, and it is as much to his own dishonour as to my discredit. I beg, therefore, you will neither give credit to his base assertions, nor think so meanly of me; my station as Kauzy of this district should, methinks, screen me from such imputations."—"True," said Harshim, "the station you occupy in the world, and the place you hold as Kauzy, prevent suspicion from attaching to you; hence this poor man has not yet found redress to the justice of his claims. I would have you believe me sincerely your friend, in desiring to bring your heart to repentance, and thus only can your soul's safety be secured. I know you to have this man's property, and your own heart even now convicts you of the injustice you practise. Nothing is hidden from God;—reflect on the punishment prepared for the unrepenting hypocrite. Listen, whilst I relate to you my own convictions, or rather experience, of that terrible punishment which is prepared for the impenitent hardened sinner beyond the grave.
'"I have been a woodman for several years, and by my daily labour have earned my coarse food. Some years since, I was sick and unable to pursue my usual occupation; my supply was thus cut off. Requiring temporary relief, I applied to a rich Banker of this city for a trifling loan; my request was promptly complied with, and I engaged to repay the sum by two pice each day upon again resuming my employment. By the mercy of God I recovered; and on the evening of each day, as I sold the wood my day's labour produced in the market, I paid the Banker two pice. On the very day, however, that the last two were to have been paid, the Banker died. Thus I remained his debtor still. Often had I thought of the circumstance that I was his debtor, and with real regret; yet the sum was small, and with this I became reconciled.
'"Not long after his decease I was visited with a dream, important to all the world to know, and I therefore desire to make it public. Judgement was opened to my view; the beauty of heaven was displayed on one side, and the torments of hell on the other. My dream presented many people waiting their award, whom I had known in life, and amongst the number my creditor the Banker; he was standing on the brink of that fiery yawning gulf which is prepared for the wicked and unjust. His attendant angels produced the documents of their faithful keeping,—good and evil actions of every mortal are thus registered,—one exhibited a small blank book in which not one good deed had been recorded, and that presented by the other, containing the evils of his ways on earth, appeared to me an immense volume filled throughout.
'"'Take him to his merited torments!' was pronounced in an awful tone of command.—'Have mercy! have pity!' cried the Banker, in a supplicating voice.—'Produce one claim for pity,' was heard.—The Banker in agony looked wildly round, as if in search of something he might urge in extenuation, when casting his eyes on me he exclaimed, 'There! oh, there is one! who when in trouble I relieved, and he is still my debtor!'
'"In my dream this appeared too slender a benefit to draw forth the slightest remission of the punishments awarded to his deserts. 'Away with him!' was heard.—'Oh!' cried the Banker's soul, 'draw near to me, thou good, virtuous, and humble Woodman, that the reflected light of thy virtues may give one instant's ease to my present torture. Let me but touch the righteous Harshim, and I will depart to my just punishment with submission!'