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The Plate Of Gold

One day there fell in great Benares' temple-courtA wondrous plate of gold, whereon these words were writ;"To him who loveth best, a gift from Heaven."                                            Thereat.

The priests made proclamation: "At the midday hour,

Each day, let those assemble who for virtue deemtheir right to Heaven's gift the best; and we will hearthe deeds of mercy done, and so adjudge."                                        The newsran swift as light, and soon from every quarter camenobles and munshis, hermits, scholars, holy men,and all renowned for gracious or for splendid deeds,meanwhile the priests in solemn council sat and heardwhat each had done to merit best the gift of Heaven.

So for a year the claimants came and went.                                           At last,after a patient weighing of the worth of all,the priests bestowed the plate of gold on one who seemed,the largest lover of the race - whose whole estate,within the year had been parted among the poor.

This man, all trembling with his joy, advanced to takethe golden plate-when lo! at his finger's first touchit changed to basest lead!

All stood aghast; but whenthe hapless claimant dropt it clanging on the floor,

Heaven's guerdon was again transformed to shining gold.

So for another twelve month sat he priests and judged.

Thrice they awarded-thrice did Heaven refuse the gift.

Meanwhile a host of poor, maimed beggars in the streetlay all about the temple gate, in hope to movethat love whereby each claimant hoped to win the giftand well for them it was (if gold be charity),for every pilgrim to the temple gate praised love might thus approve itself before the test,and so coins rained freely in the outstretched hands;but none of those who gave, so much as turned to lookinto the poor sad eyes of them that begged.                                          And

The second year had almost passed, but still the plateof gold, by whomsoever touched was turned to lead.

At length there came a simple peasant-not awareof that strange contest for the gift of God-to paya vow within the temple.

As he passed alongthe line of shrivelled beggars, all his soul was movedwithin him to sweet pity, and the tears well upand trembled in his eyes.                         Now by the temple gatethere lay a poor, sore creature, blind, and shunned by all;but when the peasant came, and saw the sightless faceand trembling, maimed hands he could not pass, but knelt,and took both palms in his, and softly said: "O thou,my brother! bear the trouble bravely.

God is good."The he arose and walked straightway across the court,and entered where they wrangled of their deeds of lovebefore the priests.                     A while he listened sadly; thenhad turned away; but something moved the priest who heldthe plate of gold to beckon to the peasant.

Sohe came, not understanding and obeyed, and stretched his hand and took the sacred vessel.

Lo! it shonewith thrice its former lustre, and amazed them all!"Son", cried the priest, "rejoice, the gift of God is thine.

Thou lovest best!" And all made answer, "It is well."And, one by one, departed.

But the peasant kneltand prayed, bowing his head above the golden plate;while o'er his soul like morning streamed the love of God.

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James Henry Leigh Hunt

James Henry Leigh Hunt (19 October 1784 – 28 August 1859), best known as Leigh Hunt, was an English critic, essayist and poet.

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