Character. of. peasant. Plate. Of. Gold
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One day a wonderful plate made of gold fell from Heaven into the court of a temple at Benares; and on the plate these words were inscribed: "A gift from Heaven to him who loves best." The priests at once made a proclamation that every day at twelve o'clock, all who would like to claim the plate should assemble at the temple, to have their kind deeds judged.
Everyday for a whole year all kinds of holy men, hermits, scholars and nobles came, and related to the priests their deeds of charity, and the priests in solemn council heard their claims. At last they decided that the one who seemed to be the greatest lover of mankind was a rich man who had that very year given all his wealth to the poor. so they gave him the plate of gold. but when he took it in his hard, it turned to worthless, lead; though, when he dropped it in his amazement on to the floor, it became gold again.
For another year claimants came; and the priests awarded the prize three times. But the same thing happened, showing that Heaven did not consider these men worthy of the gift. Meanwhile a large number of beggars came and lay about the temple gate, hoping that the claimants who came would give them alms to prove they were worthy of the golden plate. It was a good time for the beggars, because the pilgrims gave them plenty of money; but they gave them no sympathy, nor even a look of pity.
At last a simple peasant, who had heard nothing about the plate of gold, came; and he was so touched by the sight of the miserable beggars, that he swept; and when, he saw a poor blind and maimed wretch at the temple gate, he knelt at his side and took his maimed hands in his and comforted him with kind words. When this peasant came to the temple, he was shocked to find it full of men boasting of their kind deeds and quarrelling with the priest. One priest, who held the golden plate in his hand, seeing the peasant standing there, beckoned to him; and the peasant came, and knowing nothing about the plate, took it in his hands. At once it shone out with three times its former spledour, and the priests said: "Son, the gift is yours: for you love best.
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