MY PILGRIMAGE TO THE WISE A MEN OF THE EAST PROLEGOMENA MID the fantastic Apocryphal fables one poetic tale has found its way into the Arabic Gospel of the Infancy. "And it came to pass when Jesus the Lord was born at Bethlehem of Judah, in the time of Herod the King, behold Wise Men came from the East to Jerusalem, as Zoroaster had predicted: and they had with them gifts, gold, incense, and myrrh; and they worshipped him and offered unto him their gifts. Then lady Mary took one of his swaddling bands and gave it to them as a little reward, and they received it from her with great honour. And the same hour there appeared unto them an angel in the form of the star which had been the guide of their way before; and following the leading of its light they departed into their own country. "And there the kings and their princes came to them asking what they had seen or done, how they had gone and returned, what they had brought with them. And they showed them the swaddling band which lady Mary had given them; wherefore they celebrated a festival, and kindled fire according to their custom and worshipped it, and cast the swaddling band into it, and the fire seized it and absorbed it into itself. But when the fire went out, they drew forth the swaddling band just as it was at first, as if the fire had not touched it. Therefore they began to kiss it, and to place it on their heads and eyes, saying, Verily this is undoubted truth; it is indeed a great thing that the fire could not burn nor destroy it. They took it thence and with the greatest honour deposited it among their treasures." It is evident from the context that this little tale has been inserted from some foreign source. The next sentence begins, "Now when Herod saw that the Wise Men had departed and not returned to him," but nothing is said of their having seen Herod at all. Their star-angel is Zoroaster himself, who shines through this legend of primitive pilgrims from Persia treasuring even the smallest new truth which their flame could absorb but not con sume. I have dreamed of missionaries travelling to the East as if returning this visit of the Wise Men: they say, "Show us, O elder brothers, the swaddling band your fire could not consume, that we may press it to our eyes and lips; for the bands borne west are consumed!" It was in studying the Oriental books in my youth that I learned that in all the earth were growing the flowers and fruits of the human heart, concerning which one Wise Man said, "Keep thy heart above all that thou guardest; for out of it are the issues of life." On May 1, 1859, I preached in Cincinnati a discourse on "East and West," my text being, "The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light." It was at the first assembling of the congregation after nearly half of them had left us to found a new Unitarian society, "The Church of the Redeemer." Along with my personal distress at parting with so many friends who could not follow me in my repudiation of Supernatural PROLEGOMENA 3 ism, I still felt a sort of relief in having no further need for compromise with the Past. All the rationalists of the city had crowded to my side; and in the enthusiasm of a crisis I said: "The sun of civilization rose in the East, and ever journeys Westward. And it is not a fancy, but a fact, that Humanity, as much as the earth, is divided into night and day-historically, East and West. What is the difference of night and day? One is the time for dreams, the other for realities; one has visions, the other actualities. Let us not undervalue the Night out of which our race has emerged; it was a healthful and beautiful slumber which it found there, and by which it was made strong for the day of toil which awaited it. Sciolists speak of the dark ages,' as if darkness were the sole characteristic of those times. I tell you glorious stars shone, and splendid worlds rolled on their orbits of light, in that primal darkness. It was a time of dreams, indeed, but they were dreams which the Earth exists and toils to carve into reality. It was the mission of that Oriental world to dream, and it fulfilled its mission grandly: it dreamed out an Eden, a Golden Age; it caught the perfect vision which is bequeathed to our Day under the name of Christianity. We may safely judge this childhood of the world by the phenomena of our own individual childhood; you know that in our childhood we are not practical, but build air castles, yet a true manhood will follow youth's visions. So the Orient achieved no great practical works; its Edens and Ages of Gold fade into poems under the analysis of history. These grandeurs were the rearing of that skilful architect, Imagination, out of very insignificant materials. But there came a time of waning. Visions and speculations grew kiss it, and to place it on their heads and eyes, saying, Verily this is undoubted truth; it is indeed a great thing that the fire could not burn nor destroy it. They took it thence and with the greatest honour deposited it among their treasures." It is evident from the context that this little tale has been inserted from some foreign source. The next sentence begins, "Now when Herod saw that the Wise Men had departed and not returned to him," but nothing is said of their having seen Herod at all. Their star-angel is Zoroaster himself, who shines through this legend of primitive pilgrims from Persia treasuring even the smallest new truth which their flame could absorb but not con sume. I have dreamed of missionaries travelling to the East as if returning this visit of the Wise Men: they say, "Show us, O elder brothers, the swaddling band your fire could not consume, that we may press it to our eyes and lips; for the bands borne west are consumed!" It was in studying the Oriental books in my youth that I learned that in all the earth were growing the flowers and fruits of the human heart, concerning which one Wise Man said, "Keep thy heart above all that thou guardest; for out of it are the issues of life." On May 1, 1859, I preached in Cincinnati a discourse on "East and West," my text being, "The night is far spent, the day is at hand; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light." It was at the first assembling of the congregation after nearly half of them had left us to found a new Unitarian society, "The Church of the Redeemer." Along with my personal distress at parting with so many friends who could not follow me in my repudiation of Supernatural |