The Press. WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1913, THE MESSAGE OF CHRISTMAS.

Press, Volume XLIX, Issue 14857, 24 December 1913, Page 8

The Press. WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 24, 1913, THE MESSAGE OF CHRISTMAS.

A noble legend grow up in early days to the effoct that when the "Babe of Bethlehem" was first laid in the manger, which served for his cradle, the false gods of the heathen world fled in confusion from their shrines. Peor and Baalim Forsook their temples dim, With that twice batter'd god of Palestine, while over the lonely mountains and the resounding shores there passod a voice of weeping and loud lament. In especial it was believed that the birth of Christ deposed from his pride of place the great god Pan, who symbolised so much that was beautiful ahd so much that was obscene in the ancient rituals of nature-worship. And certainly there came into human life a now standard of values by which worth should be measured, and tested. Henceforward, however much men might fail from time to time to realise in action the faith they professed with their lips, it grew to be more and more widely recognised that "before honour is humility," that not what men have, but what they are, is the thing that counts, that what we give is of infinitely greater importance, "sub specio seternitatis," than what we got.

In the days of the Church's first fervour men saw visions, and dreamed dreams of the immediate coming of now heavens and a new earth wherein righteousness should dwell. All they thought was to be accomplished, and tho final work done suddenly, and as it wero in a moment. But when years grew into decades, and decades into centuries, and the visions remained unrealised, to many tho message of recurring Christmases seemed a bitter mockery. Ages of doubt and faltering are interspersed among ages of faith and progress. And in our own age both voices are insistent. Yet the shallowest knowledge of history shows us an everwidening gulf between tho ages before tho first Christmas and the ages that have succeeded. The progress is none the less real that it has often been made "without observation," and its formula has never found fitter expres-

6ion than in tho noblo lines of Clough—

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to Rain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main. And not by eastern windows only, When morning comes, comes in tho light, In. front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land ia. bright.

In spite of a divided Christendom, in spite of social upheavals, fratricidal wars, and tho bitter inequalities of life, the message of Christmas is to the Twentieth

Century, as to the First, a sursuni corda, a reminder that in the long run falsehood will be vanquished, wrongs righted, truth and justice vindicated and enthroned. There always have been, and to the end of time no doubt there always will be, those who refuse to aoeopt the creed of Christendom.

Among them, it is wise to remember many noble and valiant souls. To the materialist it is ftill a stumbling-block, to the intellectualist foolishness, and to many a humblo seeker after truth no more than an inspiring dream. But none the less to those who embrace it, to tho heroes of faith, such dauntless spirits as Bernard, Savonarola, either St. Francis, Luther, Xavier, Cromwell, Bunyan, Herbert, tho Wesleys, Keble, Maurice, Gordon, Nicholson, Damien, Octavia Hill, or "General" Booth, and to uncounted millions of all times and

countries "whose story is a fragment "known to few," it is still tho one driving-force that makes all things possible. To such happy souls as to the shepherds ''keeping watch over their '* flocks by night," on Christmas Day above all other days, tho great multitude of the heavenly host still "in the " darkness sing their cared of high

" praise." And as they listen in silence to that lofty strain, they find themselves lifted up and strengthened to bear the daily burden of their self-sacri-ficing lives, and plays their manful part in the eternal strife of light and hope against the forces of darkness and despair.