A Little Book for Christmas | Page 3

birth
in the rude cave back of the inn. Ah, it pierces through the darkness of
that shrouding night. It shines to-day. Still sparkles the Star in the East.
He is that Star.
There is nothing that can take from mankind--even doubting
mankind--the spirit of Christ and the Christmas season. Our
celebrations do not rest upon the conclusions of logic, or the
demonstrations of philosophy; I would not even argue that they depend

inevitably or absolutely upon the possession of a certain faith in Jesus,
but we accept Christmas, nevertheless; we endeavour to apply the
Christmas spirit, for just once in the year; it may be because we cannot,
try as we may, crush out utterly and entirely the divinity that is in us
that makes for God. The stories and tales for Christmas which have for
their theme the hard heart softened are not mere fictions of the
imagination. They rest upon an instinctive consciousness of a profound
philosophic truth.
What is the unpardonable sin, I wonder? Is it to be persistently and
forever unkind? Does it mean perhaps the absolute refusal to accept the
principle of love which is indeed creation's final law? The lessons of
the Christmastide are so many; the appeals that now may be made to
humanity crowd to the lips from full minds and fuller hearts. Might we
not reduce them all to the explication of the underlying principle of
God's purpose to us, as expressed in those themic words of love with
which angels and men greeted the advent of the Child on the first
Christmas morning, "Good will toward men?"
Let us then show our good will toward men by doing good and
bringing happiness to someone--if not to everyone--at this Christmas
season. Put aside the memories of disappointments, of sorrows that
have not vanished, of cares that still burden, and do good in spite of
them because you would not dim the brightness of the present for any
human heart with the shadows of old regrets. Do good because of a
future which opens possibilities before you, for others, if not for
yourselves.
Brethren, friends, all, let us make up our minds that we will be kindly
affectioned one to another in our homes and out of them, on this
approaching Christmas day. That the old debate, the ancient strife, the
rankling recollection, the sharp contention, shall be put aside, that
"envy, hatred, and malice, and all uncharitableness" shall be done away
with. Let us forgive and forget; but if we cannot forget let us at least
forgive. And so let there be peace between man and man at
Christmas--a truce of God.
Let us pray that Love shall come as a little child to our households.
That He shall be in our hearts and shall find His expression in all that
we do or say on this birthday of goodness and cheer for the world. Then
let us resolve that the spirit of the day shall be carried out through our

lives, that as Christ did not come for an hour, but for a lifetime, we
would fain become as little children on this day of days that we may
begin a new life of good will to men.
Let us make this a new birthday of kindness and love that shall endure.
That is a Christmas hope, a Christmas wish. Let us give to it the
gracious expression of life among men.
[Illustration]

FROM A FAR COUNTRY
[Illustration]
Being a New Variation of an Ancient Theme A STORY FOR
GROWN-UPS
I
"_A certain man had two sons_"--so begins the best and most famous
story in the world's literature. Use of the absolute superlative is always
dangerous, but none will gainsay that statement, I am sure. This story,
which follows that familiar tale afar off, indeed, begins in the same way.
And the parallelism between the two is exact up to a certain point.
What difference a little point doth make; like the little fire, behold, how
great a matter it kindleth! Indeed, lacking that one detail the older story
would have had no value; it would not have been told; without its
addition this would have been a repetition of the other.
When the modern young prodigal came to himself, when he found
himself no longer able to endure the husks of the swine like his ancient
exemplar, when he rose and returned to his father because of that
distaste, he found no father watching and waiting for him at the end of
the road! Upon that change the action of this story hangs. It was a pity,
too, because the elder brother was there and in a mood not unlike that
of his famous prototype.
Indeed, there was added to that elder brother's natural resentment at the
younger's course