3. CHRISTMAS HYMN

EDMUND HAMILTON SEARS

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,

From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good-will to men,
From heaven's all gracious King."
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.

Still thro' the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains

They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.

But with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffer'd long;
Beneath the angel-strain have roll'd
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love song which they bring;
Oh! hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life's crushing load
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:

Oh! rest beside the weary road,

And hear the angels sing!

For lo, the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years

Comes round the age of gold:
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,

And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing.

CLASS ACTIVITIES

1. Why is the Christmas season known as the time of peace? What familiar verses can you quote to prove your answer?

2. The first three selections in this Unit all center around Christmas time. Name other stories dealing with peace and good-will that have a similar setting at Christmas time.

3. What two lines in the poem indicate that the message of peace is intended for all the peoples of the world?

4. What is the special meaning of the fourth stanza? What does it add to the meaning of the song as a whole?

5. Volunteer projects:

a. Find the references in the Bible to Babel, and tell why the word is appropriately used in the second stanza.

b. The word still may be used as an adverb, as a noun, an adjective, or as a verb. Use the dictionary to find out the meaning of still in each of these uses. Can any of the meanings be used appropriately in the second stanza? The real meaning here goes back to Shakespeare's time, when still meant ever or always, a meaning which the word seldom has to-day.

c. Find the story of the "Three Wise Men" in the Bible. Read it aloud to yourself, and be ready to tell the story to the class when you take up the following selection.

6. Volunteer oral reading: Find and practise reading aloud one of these Read it to the class.

Christmas poems.

a. "God Rest You Merry, Gentlemen," author unknown.

b. "O Little Town of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks.

c. "The Christmas Carol," William Wordsworth.

d. "Jest 'Fore Christmas," Eugene Field.

e. "A Christmas Hymn," Alfred Domett.

f. "A Christmas Carol," James Russell Lowell.

g.

"Christmas Day," Charles Wesley.

h. "A Christmas Carmen," John Greenleaf Whittier.

4. THE OTHER WISE MAN

HENRY VAN DYKE

Reading directions: Read the first paragraph thoughtfully and decide: 1. What makes you know that the story that Mr. van Dyke tells is to resemble an allegory, like his story beginning on p. 570 of Book One. 2. What hint does the story-teller give you in the first paragraph of his purpose in writing the story?

You know the story of the Three Wise Men of the East, and how they travelled from far away to offer their gifts at the manger-cradle in Bethlehem. But have you ever heard the story of the Other Wise Man, who also saw the star in its rising, and set out to follow it, yet did not arrive with his brethren in the presence of the young child Jesus? Of the great desire of this fourth pilgrim, and how it was denied, yet accomplished in the denial; of his many wanderings and the probations of his soul; of the long way of his seeking and the strange way of his finding the One whom he sought I would tell the tale as I have heard fragments of it in the Hall of Dreams, in the palace of the Heart of Man.

I

In the days when Augustus Cæsar was master of many kings and Herod reigned in Jerusalem, there lived in the city of Ecbatana, among the mountains of Persia, a certain man named Artaban. His house stood close to the outermost of the walls which encircled the royal treasury. From his roof he could look over the seven-fold battlements of black and white and crimson and blue and red and silver and gold, to the hill where the summer palace of the Parthian emperors glittered like a jewel in a crown.

Around the dwelling of Artaban spread a fair garden, a tangle of flowers and fruit-trees, watered by a score of streams descending from the slopes of Mount Orontes, and made musical by innumerable birds. But all color was lost in the soft and odorous darkness of the late September night, and all sounds were hushed in the deep charm of its silence, save the plashing of the

water, like a voice half-sobbing and half-laughing under the shadows. High above the trees a dim glow of light shone through the curtained arches of the upper chamber, where the master of the house was holding council with his friends.

He stood by the doorway to greet his guests — a tall, dark man of about forty years, with brilliant eyes set near together under his broad brow, and firm lines graven around his fine, thin lips; the brow of a dreamer and the mouth of a soldier, a man of sensitive feeling but inflexible will - one of those who, in whatever age they may live, are born for inward conflict and a life of quest.

His robe was of pure white wool, thrown over a tunic of silk; and a white, pointed cap, with long lapels at the sides, rested on his flowing black hair. It was the dress of the ancient priesthood of the Magi, called the fire-worshippers.

"Welcome!" he said, in his low, pleasant voice, as one after another entered the room-"welcome, Abdus; peace be with you, Rhodaspes and Tigranes, and with you my father, Abgarus. You are all welcome. This house grows bright with the joy of your presence.'

There were nine of the men, differing widely in age, but alike in the richness of their dress of many-colored silks, and in the massive golden collars around their necks, marking them as Parthian nobles, and in the winged circles of gold resting upon their breasts, the sign of the followers of Zoroaster.

They took their places around a small black altar at the end of the room, where a tiny flame was burning. Artaban, standing beside it, and waving a barsom of thin tamarisk branches above the fire, fed it with dry sticks of pine and fragrant oils. Then he began the ancient chant of the Yasna, and the voices of his companions joined in the hymn to Ahura-Mazda:

"We worship the Spirit Divine, all wisdom and goodness possessing, Surrounded by Holy Immortals, the givers of bounty and blessing; We joy in the work of His hands, His truth and His power confessing."

The fire rose with the chant, throbbing as if the flame responded to the music, until it cast a bright illumination through the whole apartment, revealing its simplicity and splendor.

The floor was laid with tiles of dark blue veined with white; pilasters of twisted silver stood out against the blue walls; the clear-story of round-arched windows above them was hung with azure silk; the vaulted ceiling was a pavement of blue stones, like the body of heaven in its clearness, sown with silver stars. From the four corners of the roof hung four golden magicwheels, called the tongues of the gods. At the eastern end, behind the altar, there were two dark-red pillars of porphyry; above them a lintel of the same stone, on which was carved the figure of a winged archer, with his arrow set to the string and his bow drawn.

The doorway between the pillars, which opened upon the terrace of the roof, was covered with a heavy curtain of the color of a ripe pomegranate, embroidered with innumerable golden rays shooting upward from the floor. In effect the room was like a quiet, starry night, all azure and silver, flushed in the east with rosy promise of the dawn. It was, as the house of a man should be, an expression of the character and spirit of the

master.

He turned to his friends when the song was ended, and invited them to be seated on the divan at the western end of the room.

"You have come to-night," said he, looking around the circle, "at my call, as the faithful scholars of Zoroaster, to renew your worship and rekindle your faith in the God of Purity, even as this fire has been rekindled on the altar. We worship not the fire, but Him of whom it is the chosen symbol, because it is the purest of all created things. It speaks to us of one who is Light and Truth. Is it not so, my father?"

"It is well said, my son," answered the venerable Abgarus. "The enlightened are never idolaters. They lift the veil of form and go in to the shrine of reality, and new light and truth are coming to them continually through the old symbols."

"Hear me, then, my father and my friends," said Artaban, "while I tell you of the new light and truth that have come to me through the most ancient of all signs. We have searched the secrets of Nature together, and studied the healing virtues of water and fire and the plants. We have read also the books of prophecy in which the future is dimly foretold in words that