Such was his success that he built the temple, and then thousands came to touch the bones of the sinless one. The young man became rich, gave employment to many assistants and lived in the greatest luxury.
One day he made up his mind to visit his old master. Taking with him a large retinue of servants he started for the old home. When he reached the place the old monk was seated by the doorway. With great astonishment he looked at the young man and his retinue. The young man dismounted and made himself known, and the old monk cried: "Where hast thou been? Tell me, I pray thee, the story of thy success."
"Ah," the young man replied, "old age is stupid, but youth has thoughts. Wait until we are alone and I will tell you all."
So that night the young man told his story, told about the death and burial of the donkey, the begging of money to build a temple over the bones of the sinless one, and of the sums of money he had received for the cures the bones had wrought.
When he finished a satisfied smile crept over his pious face as he added: "Old age is stupid, but youth has thoughts."
"Be not so fast," said the old monk, as he placed his trembling hand on the head of his visitor, "Young man, this monastery in which your youth was passed, in which you have seen so many miracles performed, so many diseases cured, was built above the sacred bones of the mother of your little jackass."
IV.
THERE are two ways of accounting for the sacred books and religions of the world.
One is to say that the sacred books were written by inspired men, and that our religion was revealed to us by God.
The other is to say that all books have been written by men, without any aid from supernatural powers, and that all religions have been naturally produced.