A stranger was riding a lazy camel across the lonely Arabian desert.
All men are Moors in the dark, but this man was a Moor in the
starlight. A newly discovered star brought the man from the banks of
the Indus. He consulted all the calendars of the East, but none could
tell him about the star. Balthasar, however, was not the man to let
the strange, incomprehensible star escape him. Nothing can be
concealed in God's bosom from an Eastern scholar, for not even God
Himself has a passport for the land of the all-wise. The world is
through them alone and for them alone; man must grow of himself towards
the light as the lotus grows out of the mud. So thought Balthasar, and
felt that life was a failure.
In such wisdom the faith of Orientals lives and moves and has its
being. If man honestly aspires to higher things and tortures his
flesh, it may go better with him in another life. For he must be born
again many times, and must torture his body until it shrivels up, is
freed from sin, and is without desires. Then the soul is released and
is not born again, for Nirvana, the last goal, is reached. Only bad
men continue to live. The nations of India had been demoralised by
that doctrine for centuries. But it did not satisfy wise men.
Balthasar thought: If a man starves through a few dozen lives, then
something good must come out of it. Or is evil good enough to
continue, and good evil enough to cease? Balthasar sought better
counsel. He sought throughout the universe for a peg on which to hang
a new, more beneficial philosophy of life. When, then, he saw the new
star in the sky, he never ceased looking at it. And, lo! it too took
the road from east to west which all men traversed. What was there
yonder in the sunset that all went towards it, on earth as in heaven?
Could not one particular star swim against the stream? True, this new
heavenly pilgrim took an unusual path; he leaned somewhat to the north
of the barbarous folk. So the wise man of the east left the fragrant
gardens of India and followed the star. On the road he was joined by
two Oriental princes and their suites, who were also seeking they knew
not what.
And one night the three wise men saw in the heavens an extraordinary
constellation, a group of stars hitherto unknown to any of them.
[Illustration: Diagram of constellation of stars, using asterisks for
the stars, spelling out "INRI".]
They looked at the constellation for a long while, and Balthasar
thought it was like writing. They brought all their wisdom to bear on
it, but could not explain it, for all it shone so brightly. Did the
gods mean to write some message? Who could understand it? An uncanny
appearance, which no knowledge or faith could explain! The next night
they did not see it, but the guiding star still went before them and
yielded to no sun.
One morning, just as day began to dawn, they rode through the streets
of Jericho. A man was lying on his face in the road, and the Moor
asked him why he lay in the dust.
"I lie in the dust," answered the man of Judah, "because I must
practise myself in humility in order not to become too proud. We have
become great beyond measure these last days. The King of the Jews is
born, the Messiah promised of God."
Then the wise man from India remembered how the Jews had been expecting
their Messiah for ages, the royal deliverer from bondage.
"I thought you had King Herod," he said.
"He's not the right king," answered the man in the dust. "Herod is a
heathen, and cringes to the Romans."
And now clouds from Lebanon hid the star, and the travellers knew not
which way to go. Balthasar, perplexed, went towards the neighbouring
city of Jerusalem; there surely he would be able to learn more. He
asked at the royal palace about the new-born king. Such a question was
news to King Herod. A son born to him? He knew nothing about it. He
would see the strangers who asked such a question.
"Sire," said the Moor, "something is in the air. Your people are
whispering of the Messiah."
"I'll have them beheaded!" shouted Herod angrily; then, more gently:
"I'll have them beheaded if they don't kneel before the Messiah. I
myself will bow before him. If only I knew where to find him!"
"I'll go and look round a little," said the complacent Balthasar, "and
if I find him I'll come and tell you."
"Do, do, noble stranger," said Herod, "And then, pray take your ease at
my palace as long as you like. Are you fond of golden wine?"
"I drink red wine," answered the Moor.
"Or of the fair women of the west?" asked the king.
"I love dark-skinned women," said Balthasar.
"Good! Then come, my friend, and bring me news of the new-born king."
Balthasar rode on farther with his companions, and directly he left the
town the star again shone in front of him. It hung high up in the
heavens, and after they had followed it for some hours it slowly turned
its course eastwards, and stopped above a cave in the rocks. And there
the strangers who had ridden out of the east to seek for truth, there
they found truth and life, there they found a child, a child who was as
tender and beautiful as a rosebud in the moonlight, a little child born
to poor people, and other poor folk stood round and offered the very
last of their possessions, and were full of joy.
Dusky Balthasar peered inside. Had he ever seen eyes shine as in this
shepherd's cave? It seemed to him that he saw a new light and a new
life there; but he could not understand it. And in the air he heard a
strange song, more a suggestion than words: "You will be blessed! You
will live for ever!"
The strangers hearkened. What was that? You will be blessed, and you
will live for ever! For us happiness is to be found only in
non-existence. At sight of this new-born infant the idea of immortal
life came to them for the first time.
They offered the poor mother precious jewels, and their hearts were
glad and happy and strange within them. Formerly these princes and
wise men had only found pleasure in receiving, now they found it in
giving. Formerly Balthasar had been all sufficient unto himself, he
had woven his thoughts in entire loneliness, had despised the rest of
the world, and had only cared for himself. And suddenly there came to
him this joy in the joy of poor men, and this suffering at their
suffering! He shivered in his silken cloak, and when he took it off
and wrapped it about the child he was warm.
They all offered gifts, precious gold and rich perfumes and healing
ointments. But they were ashamed of their gifts beside the royal
offerings of the shepherds, who, though it was not much, brought all
that they possessed.
Balthasar in his joy wished to hasten to Jerusalem in order to tell
Herod: I have not yet found the King of the Jews, but I have found a
poor child and whoever looks upon him is happy, he knows not why. Now
kings are not so anxious to be happy; they prefer to be powerful. A
youth came forward from the back of the cave and said to Balthasar: "Do
you know the man to whom you would go? Why, he would strangle the
Emperor Tiberius if he could. Be silent, then, about a helpless child
who is loved by the people as a prince."
"Oh, child!" said Balthasar, "you have the misfortune to be the
people's favourite. Therefore the great hate thee."
"Stranger, go not to Jerusalem. Say nothing of the child."
The strangers did not feel at ease in a land which had an emperor and a
king, neither of whom was the right ruler! And so they mounted their
camels. They took one more look at the child in the manger and they
rode away straight over the stony desert. They directed their course
towards the east, towards all the starry constellations, and dreamed of
a new revelation which might enable them henceforth to live rich in
love and ever glad.
Meanwhile King Herod, sleeping or waking, was not at peace. It was not
on account of his wife or his brothers whom he had had murdered from a
suspicion that they might kill him to secure the throne. It was
something else that caused his anxiety. The new-born king! No one
mentioned the news at court, but he heard it from the walls of his
palace, from the flowers of his garden, from the pillows of his couch.
Who had first spoken the word? Whence did it come? A new-born king!
Where? He must forthwith hasten to do him homage, to present him with
a gift tied with a silken string. And one day the decree came to
Bethlehem that every mother who had an infant son should bring it to
the king's palace at Jerusalem for the king desired to see the progeny
of his subjects in order to discover what hope there was for the
delivery of the land of the Jews from bondage: he wished to present
gifts to the boys; yes, he was preparing a great surprise for his
people. No little excitement prevailed among the women, who declared
that the childless king intended to adopt the handsomest boy as his own
son. Since each mother considered her son the handsomest and most
attractive, she took the boy that she had and carried him to Jerusalem
to the palace of King Herod. And those who refused to go were sought
out by the guards.
Unhappy day, O Herod! which bears thy name for all time! The angry
king, desiring to kill the anti-king, commanded the wholesale murder of
the future protectors of his realm! He destroyed the race which had
formerly saved the beautiful city from ruin!
"All hail to our king, long may he live!" shouted the mothers in the
courtyard of the palace. Then knaves rushed out from the doors, tore
the children from their mothers' arms, and slew them. None can
describe, indeed none would attempt to describe, how the unhappy
mothers strove frantically with the tyrants until they fell fainting or
lifeless upon the bodies of their dear ones.
Tremble, O men, before the terrible decree of Herod, murderer of the
innocents, yet despair not. He for whom they spilled their blood by
God's decree will requite it in full measure.