ome from the dominions of the Uzbek
sultan, in order that they may suffer no annoyance. I was conducted
through the markets in the same manner.'
But the autumn night is closing in, and we must shut up the volume. We
can not, to-day, follow the brave old traveler through all the
vicissitudes of his long pilgrimage. He allows us to perceive much that
he does not tell us outright, and it is a satisfaction to learn, from
his pages, that if society were less ordered, secure, and externally
proper five hundred years ago, individual generosity and magnanimity
were more marked, and the good in the human race, as now, overbalanced
the evil. One more story Ibn Batuta must tell us, before we take leave
of him,--one story, which must warm every heart which can appreciate
that rarest of virtues, tolerance. The father of the Greek emperor was
still living, having abdicated the crown in favor of his son Andronicus,
and become a monk. The Moslem traveler thus describes his interview with
the old Christian monarch:--
'I was one day in company with the Greek who was appointed to ride with
me through the city, when we suddenly encountered the old emperor,
walking on foot, clothed in hair garments, and with a felt cap on his
head. He had a long white beard and a noble face, which presented traces
of the pious practices whereto his life was devoted. Before and behind
him walked a troop of monks. He held a staff in his hand, and had a
rosary about his neck. When the Greek beheld him, he alighted, and said
to me, "Dismount; it is the father of the emperor." When the Greek had
saluted him, he demanded who I was, then stopped, and summoned me to
him. I approached; he took my hand, and said to the Greek, who knew the
Arabic language,--"Say to this Saracen (that is to say, Mussulman), that
I press the hand which has entered Jerusalem, and the foot which has
walked by the Holy Rock, and the Holy Sepulchre, and in Bethlehem,"
Having spoken, he placed his hand on my feet, and then passed it over
his own face.