The new year now is welcomed noisily With din and song and shout and clanging bell, And all the glare and blare of fiery fun. Sing high the welcome to the New Year's morn! _Le roi est mort. Vive, vive le roi!_ cry out, And hail the new-born king of coming days.
Alas! the day is spent and eve draws nigh; The king's first subject dies--for naught, And wasted moments by the hundred score Of past years rise like spectres grim To warn, that these days may not idly glide away. Oh, New Year, youth of promise fair! What dost thou hold for me? An aching heart? Or eyes burnt blind by unshed tears? Or stabs, More keen because unseen? Nay, nay, dear youth, I've had surfeit Of sorrow's feast. The monarch dead Did rule me with an iron hand. Be thou a friend, A tender, loving king--and let me know The ripe, full sweetness of a happy year.
A new gem has been added to sacred literature, and this is the accidental discovery by Nicolas Notovich of a Buddhist history of a phase of Christ's life left blank in the Scriptures.
Notovich, an adventurer, searching amid the ruins of India, delving deep in all the ancient Buddhistic lore, accidentally stumbles upon the name of Saint Issa, a renowned preacher, ante-dating some 2,000 years. The name becomes a wondrous attraction to Notovich, particularly as he learns through many Buddhist priests, Issa's name in juxtaposition with the Christian faith, and later, has reason to believe that the Jesus Christ of our religion and the Saint Issa of their tradition are identical.
Through a seemingly unfortunate accident, Notovich sustains an injury to his leg, and is cared for most tenderly by the monks of the convent of Himis. Despite his severe agonies, he retains consciousness and curiosity enough to plead for a glimpse of the wonderful documents contained in the archives of the convent, treating of the life of Saint Issa and the genealogy of the House of David. This he has translated and gives to the public.
Just whether to take the history seriously or not is a subject that requires much thought; but whether it be truth or fiction, whether the result of patient investigation and careful study of an interested scholar, or the wild imaginings of a feeble brain, it opens a wild field of speculation to the thoughtful mind.