“O night-illuminating moth!” some one said, “why comest thou not out in the day-time?” The fly gave an answer full of wisdom: “Because I am not visible before the sun.” STORY OF A MOTH AND A CANDLE Some one said to a moth: “Go, thou contemptible creature, and make friendship with one worthy of thyself; go where thou seest the path of hope. How different is thy love from that of the candle! Thou art not a salamander—hover not around the fire, for bravery is necessary before combat. It is not compatible with reason that thou shouldst acknowledge as a friend one whom thou knowest to be thine enemy.” “What does it matter if I burn?” the moth replied. “I have love in my heart, and this flame is as a flower to me. Not of my own accord do I throw myself into the fire; the chain of her love is upon my neck. Who is it that finds fault with my friendship for my friend? I am content to be slain at her feet. I burn because she is dear to me, and because my destruction may affect her. Say not to the helpless man from whose hands the reins have fallen, ‘Drive slowly.’” ANOTHER STORY ON THE SAME SUBJECT One night, as I lay awake, I heard a moth say to a candle: “I am thy lover; if I burn, it is proper. Why dost thou weep?” The candle replied: “O my poor friend! Love is not thy business. Thou fliest from before a flame; I stand erect until I am entirely consumed. If the fire of love has burned thy wings, regard me, who from head to foot must be destroyed.” Before the night had passed, some one put the candle out, exclaiming: “Such is the end of love!” Grieve not over the grave of one who lost his life for his friend; be glad of heart, for he was the chosen of Him. If thou art a lover, wash not thy head of the sickness of love; like Sadi, wash thy hands of selfishness. A devoted lover holds not back his hand from the object of his affections though arrows and stones may rain upon his head. Be cautious; if thou goest down to the sea, give thyself up to the storm. CHAPTER IV CONCERNING HUMILITY Thou, O creature of God, wast created of the dust; therefore, be humble as the dust. Be not covetous, nor oppressive, nor headstrong. Thou art from the dust; be not like fire. When the terrible fire raised his head in pride, the dust prostrated itself in humility. And since the fire was arrogant and the dust was meek, from the former were the demons formed, and from the latter mankind. STORY OF A RAINDROP A raindrop fell from a spring cloud, and, seeing the wide expanse of the sea, was shamed. “Where the sea is,” it reflected, “where am I? Compared with that, forsooth, I am extinct.” While thus regarding itself with an eye of contempt, an oyster took it to its bosom, and Fate so shaped its course that eventually the raindrop became a famous royal pearl. It was exalted, for it was humble. Knocking at the door of extinction, it became existent. STORY ILLUSTRATIVE OF PIOUS MEN REGARDING THEMSELVES WITH CONTEMPT