“And what are their occupations?” inquired Musa.
“One is employed in the redemption of captives among the infidels—the other passes her life attending the bedside of the sick, relieving their wants, administering to their comfort, without fee or reward, and devoting herself to charity and devotion. But they both believe in the Pope, and that is the great original sin.”
“Head of the Prophet!” exclaimed Musa—“and yet you persecute these people! Surely that cannot be the true religion which deals thus with the votaries of mercy and charity.”
The man, instead of answering, stooped down and seizing a stone, threw it at Musa with such good aim that it grazed his turban, and began crying out—“A Papist!—A Papist!” whereupon Musa made the best of his way to the ship, where he sought shelter from an angry crowd that was shouting and shrieking in his rear. He continued his journey through England, Spain, Holland, Germany, Switzerland and Italy, and wherever he went perceived such strange diversities and contrasts in the standard of morals and religion, that in despair he at length resolved to return home, having come to the conclusion that there was no such thing as truth in this world. With this intention he arrived at Rome, on his way to Venice, whence it was his purpose to embark for Smyrna, and thence to proceed by land through Asia Minor to Constantinople, on his way to Bagdad. At Rome he saw the Pope, a feeble, decrepit old man, who had, in order to give more imposing dignity to the ceremony, consented to preside at the burning of a heretic, who was convicted before the Inquisition of having pulled off his hat and made a bow to the statue of Hercules and the Centaurs. The poor victim, who was an ignorant peasant, solemnly declared that he mistook Hercules for a saint; but all would not do. He perished at the stake, after which Te Deum was sung, and high mass celebrated throughout the ancient capital of the world.
Sickened and disgusted with Europe, he embarked for Smyrna, and crossing Mount Sipylus on his way to Constantinople, was benighted and lost his way. He wandered about amid the deep recesses, until at length he descried a light at a distance, which, on approaching, was found to proceed from a cave, where Musa beheld an aged man, with a long white beard, reading by the light of a lamp. So deeply was he engaged, that the lost traveler entered the cave and stood beside him ere he was aware of his presence. He was not, however, in the least startled when he perceived the stranger, but courteously requesting him to be seated, closed the manuscript volume in which he had been reading, and kindly inquired into his wants and desires.
Musa related to the old man how he had lost his way in returning homeward, after an absence of twenty years, and requested his hospitality. The old man assured him he was welcome, and having provided a frugal repast of milk, dates and bread, they sat and conversed together, making mutual inquiries of each other. The aged hermit informed his guest that he was of the sect of the Maronites, and had many years ago sought refuge from the persecutions of his fellow Christians in this spot, where he could alone enjoy liberty of conscience. “But thou,” continued he, “hast just informed me that thou art returning home after twenty years of travel. Thou must have gathered vast stores of wisdom and many truths during thy long pilgrimage.”
“I did indeed set forth in search of the truth,” replied Musa, “but am returning only more in doubt than before. I have sought for some standard of manners, morals and religion, by which all mankind might regulate their opinions and conduct, for such a standard can be only the truth.”
“And didst thou find it?” asked the hermit, smiling.
“Alas! no, venerable father,” replied Musa. “I found no two nations agreeing in one or the other. A river, a mountain, or even an imaginary line of separation, not only produced a contrast in all these, but a bitter feeling of hostility, the parent of broils and bloodshed, seeming to proceed from mere differences in opinion, of which a great portion knew neither the grounds of their belief nor the source of their convictions. Even in matters involving their eternal welfare, I found no standard of truth, for millions differ with millions on the subject, and shed each other’s blood for a diversity in creeds which are alike derived from the great book in which they all believe.”
“And to what conclusion has all this travel, study and experience brought thee at last?” asked the hermit.