ful. If the light of the world and
the glory of Israel had been appointed to come with the greatness of
earthly splendor, it must have appeared long ago. For no son of Abraham
will ever again rival the power which Joseph had in the palaces of
Egypt, or the magnificence of Solomon throned between the lions in
Jerusalem. But the light for which the world is waiting is a new light,
the glory that shall rise out of patient and triumphant suffering. And
the kingdom which is to be established forever is a new kingdom, the
royalty of perfect and unconquerable love.

"I do not know how this shall come to pass, nor how the turbulent kings
and peoples of earth shall be brought to acknowledge the Messiah and
pay homage to Him. But this I know. Those who seek Him will do well to
look among the poor and the lowly, the sorrowful and the oppressed."

So I saw the other wise man again and again, travelling from place to
place, and searching among the people of the dispersion, with whom the
little family from Bethlehem might, perhaps, have found a refuge. He
passed through countries where famine lay heavy upon the land, and the
poor were crying for bread. He made his dwelling in plague-stricken
cities where the sick were languishing in the bitter companionship of
helpless misery. He visited the oppressed and the afflicted in the
gloom of subterranean prisons, and the crowded wretchedness of
slave-markets, and the weary toil of galley-ships. In all this populous
and intricate world of anguish, though he found none to worship, he
found many to help. He fed the hungry, and clothed the naked, and
healed the sick, and comforted the captive; and his years went by more
swiftly than the weaver's shuttle that flashes back and forth through
the loom while the web grows and the invisible pattern is completed.

[Illustration - "He healed the sick"]

It seemed almost as if he had forgotten his quest. But once I saw him
for a moment as he stood alone at sunrise, waiting at the gate of a
Roman prison. He had taken from a secret resting-place in his bosom the
pearl, the last of his jewels. As he looked at it, a mellower lustre, a
soft and iridescent light, full of shifting gleams of azure and rose,
trembled upon its surface. It seemed to have absorbed some reflection
of the colors of the lost sapphire and ruby. So the profound, secret
purpose of a noble life draws into itself the memories of past joy and
past sorrow. All that has helped it, all that