Gift of
NEW HAVEN HOSPITAL
1929

MEW HAVEN
HOSPITAL

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$p CQattee 6. Jeffmon

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fatjomae 2. Croweff *. Co.

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COPYRIGHT, 1906, BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
PUBLISHED SEPTEMBER, I906

COMPOSITION AND ELECTROTYPE PLATES BY
D. B. UPDIKE, THE MERRYMOUNT PRESS, BOSTON

flTfje Wottb'e CQwtmae favee
XT was the evening before the
25th of December, and I was in
the spirit, the spirit of Christmas. In
a vision I saw the whole Christian
world making ready for the great fes
tival. In imagination I roamed over my
own country, looking in on the cities
and the villages and the towns and the
hamlets and the isolated farmhouses
and the cottages and the huts on the
slopes of the mountains and far away
on the plains, and everywhere I found
people thinking and talking of Christ
mas. I saw fathers and mothers in
their plannings, and I saw boys and
girls with faces radiant with expecta
tion. What a festival there was every
where, and what glowing and exqui
site dreams!
And in my vision I saw Canada from

folic Wotfb'e CQiietmae (€tee
the lakes to the ice fields of the north,
and as far as I could see, men and wo
men were getting ready in their house
holds for Christmas. These people
were under the English king, and yet
they were thinking and doing the same
things as the people living under the
stars and stripes.
And then I glanced southward. I saw
Mexico and Central America, and all
the countries of that great continent
which extends into the south. It was a
sight which thrilled me, for these peo
ple, speaking languages different from
my own and living under govern
ments diverse from one another, seemed
to be moved by a common impulse
and exhibited a common joy. They
were all getting ready for Christmas.
And then in my vision I looked
across the broad ocean and saw Eu
rope, from the east to the west, and
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____Cfe Wocfb'6 (ZQmtmae (€tee
from the north to the south. Silently
I visited all the great capitals, and then
I went into squalid villages and ob
scure towns, and wherever I traveled
I heard the same bustle of preparation
and saw the same light in men's eyes.
There was a diversity of languages,
most of which I could not understand,
but my heart shared in the gladness,
and my soul understood the music.
And in my vision I visited all the
continents and I know not how many
islands of the sea, and in every home
to which the name of Jesus had been
carried I found everybody planning
and getting ready for Christmas. It
awed and wellnigh overwhelmed me
to see so many millions of human be
ings differing in racial features, lan
guage, custom, tradition, costume, am
bition, all united in the common work
of preparation, and all alike in having
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(€0e XVottVe CQtietmae fetee
a light upon their forehead and a joy
of expectation in their heart.
I paused in my travels just long
enough to see what these multitudes
were all doing. To my delight I found
them all doing the same thing. They
were all preparing gifts. They were
going to give something on the mor
row. Parents were tying up precious
things in mysterious-looking packages
and bundles, and brothers were per
fecting plans to surprise their sisters,
and sisters were putting the last stitch
into lovely things to give their bro
thers. Husbands were putting away
treasures which on the morrow were
to be handed to their wives, and wives
were guarding secrets which would not
be disclosed until the morning came.
Relatives and friends were thinking of
one another, and each one had a gift
to be presented on the morrow. Rich
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(£Qe WotCVe CSjtietmae (€vee
men were hoarding costly presents
which would be distributed before to
morrow's noon, and poor men like
wise had gotten together what they
could in order to increase to-morrow's
sum of joy. Aged men and women,
with silver hair and furrowed cheek,
looked young again in the light of that
Christmas Eve, and the musical laugh
ter and the mysterious whisperings of
little children were to my ears as sweet
as the music which the shepherds
heard on the night in which the un
speakable gift was given. It is a sub
lime spectacle — a world getting ready
for Christmas.
In my curiosity I approached the
Christmas trees, with their spangles
and festoons of decoration, and in the
light of the flickering tapers I read
carefully the names written on the
labels. In many a home I examined
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/£0e Wotf Ve Ctjvietmae fcxtt

the contents of the stockings, and I
know not how many tables weighted
down with precious things passed un
der the scrutiny of my eye.
But before I had gotten halfway
round the world a fear sprang up in
my heart which was increased by
everything I saw. It dawned upon me
that on the night before Christmas it
is possible to forget the person after
whom Christmas Day is named. Even
into this garden of Eden at whose
centre there stands the Christmas tree
the serpent of selfishness had crawled,
and I began to meditate on the spirit
in which Christmas gifts are often
given. I noticed in every country that
parents gave gifts to their own chil
dren and the children gave gifts to
their own parents, that grandparents
remembered their own grandchildren
and grandchildren remembered their
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(€0e WotrfVe (LQmtmae (ttee
own grandparents, that uncles and
aunts were generous to their nieces
and nephews, and that nephews and
nieces were kind to their uncles and
aunts, that teachers gave presents to
their pupils and pupils gave presents
to their teachers, that relatives gave
favors to their relatives and friends
bestowed good things on their friends.
In short, the human race had crys
tallized into a countless number of
little circles, and from hand to hand
around each circle the presents passed,
few circles having for their centre
Christ. "I shall give something to
you, and I wonder what I shall get
from you!" This was the unspoken
thought in every country through
which I passed.
And while I pondered I saw in my
vision the human race rise up before
me, the great, fallen, needy race of men.
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(€(je Wottb'e Ctjtietmae (ttee
I had never seen humanity so clearly
before. It stood before me tangible and
concrete and real as a person. To me
in my vision it was indeed a man. The
man's visage was marred, in his eyes
there was a wistful look. He did not
speak, but when he turned his face full
upon me I could imagine I heard him
saying: "I am thinking of to-morrow,
I am looking for Christmas."
Shocked by the spectacle I turned
hurriedly around, and there full before
me rose a Christmas tree. Such a tree
I had never looked upon before. It
was more majestic in its proportions
than any pine tree in the Andes or the
Alps. The tree was fashioned out of
time. The tree was Christmas Eve. Its
boughs were hours, its twigs were min
utes, its seconds were tiny offshoots,
even the smallest of them strong enough
to sustain a gift. At a glance I saw that
8

fC0e Worfo'e £t)tietma$ fcuz
on this tree could, be hung treasures
sufficient to satisfy a world. All the na
tions could hang here their offerings,
and still there would be room. And
while I was musing a voice from above
said to me:
"This is the World's Christmas Tree !
What will you put on the tree for
humanity? What gift will you give to
humankind? What benefaction will
you present to society? How will you
celebrate the birthday of Jesus?"
Shamefaced and disconcerted I could
not answer. This view of Christmas
had never occurred to me before. I
had made out my list of presents, and
I had put down in the list the names
of those nearest and dearest to me; but
I had never once thought of including
the world. I had been careful to re
member my own family and those
who had been specially kind to me;
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(€0e WorfVe CQtietmae (€vee
but as for humanity, it was not so
much as once in any of my thoughts.
And when I reflected that God so
loved the world that He gave His only
begotten Son that the world through
Him might be saved, I began to won
der if our Christmas celebrations are
after all genuinely Christian, and
whether the ordinary family Christ
mas tree really strengthens in the world
the spirit of Him who says : " It is more
blessed to give than to receive."
It now dawned upon me why I and
so many of my friends are so seriously
embarrassed, and sometimes even dis
tressed, at Christmas. The trouble is
we cannot give what we want to give;
we want to give material things, and
material things cost money. We make
out our list of those to whom our good
wishes must be expressed, and then
we look into our purse only to dis-
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(£$e Worfo'e Cflnetmae (tut
cover that the list is long and the num
ber of coins is small. We cannot give
to all who have a claim upon us, and
we cannot give the style of gift which
satisfies our heart; and so the Christ
mas season becomes to some of us a
period of tribulation. We look forward
to it with dread and shrinking, and
we get through it with a sigh of relief.
The great shop windows browbeat us
and bring us into a state of feverish
humiliation. They thrust in our faces
things made of silver and gold and
precious stones, of satin and silk and
fur, of mahogany and all sorts of costly
woods, and we turn away with a de
pressed heart, feeling that in the joy
of the Christmas season we have no
rightful part.
The things which other people are
giving and the things which our
friends most want are completely be
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(£Qe Wotf&'e CQtietmae (ttee
yond our purse; and Christmas, instead
of being an angel from the court
-of heaven communicating a new joy,
seems more like a demon from the pit
sent to tantalize us and torment us by
making us feel afresh our poverty and
limitations. But when I saw the World's Christ
mas Tree and saw humanity standing
near by waiting, I realized as never
before that none of the things in the
big store windows are really needed by
our race. Humanity does not need either
satin or silk or fur. It has no genuine
need of silver or gold or diamonds.
The artisan cannot fashion anything,
nor can the artist paint anything, nor
can the genius create anything, which
will satisfy the deep want of the world's
heart. Therefore let the man who has
neither silver nor gold hold up his head
and take courage. No matter how poor
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(£Qe Worft'e CQtictmae (€vee

a man is in the goods of this world he
can put on the World's Christmas Tree
gifts which will cause rejoicings for
ever. Christmas Day, after all, is for poor
people. It is not simply for millionaires
and kings. Wage-earners and the com
monplace man in the street can enter
into its spirit and help perpetuate its
message. There lives not a man any
where on the earth too poor to put
something on the World's Christmas
Tree. What does the world need?
What will make the world most
happy? What will banish its darkness
and augment its joy? Surely none of
the things in the store windows. Even
if the tree should be loaded down with
these splendid creations, the poor world
would be as miserable and disconsolate
as ever.
What the world needs is faith and
i3

(ttje Wovtb'e Cflttetmce fee
hope and love, justice and sympathy
and temperance, conscience and truth
and courage, patience and fidelity and
kindness. These are the things which
have been needed from the beginning,
and they were never more needed than
just now. And to give all these is
within the power of every soul that
God has made. Is it not strange that
we grow glum because the shop win
dow is beyond us, when the shop win
dow contains nothing which the world
really needs; and is it not still stranger
that we do not put out our hands and
take the precious things piled up for
us in the open treasure house of God?
The things upon which the world's
highest life depends are everywhere
within the grasp of the humblest and
poorest of us all. God simply flings
the door of his treasury wide open,
saying: "Come, take as many of these

(t$t Wottfo'e fctftietmae (tut
as you can handle, and give them as
presents to the world."
Away then with despondency and
humiliation! Children of the King
ought to be able to shout and sing
"Hosanna!" especially at Christmas.
What will you give? It is for you to
decide. You can give anything which
you will. Christmas Eve is a good time
in which to reach a decision. The
evening is lost unless in it the ques
tion is decided. Would it not be well
to give something you have never
given hitherto? A wise man ought to
bring out of his treasure house, things
new as well as old. There are more
things hidden in our soul than are
dreamed of in our philosophy. If you
are convinced you do not possess a
certain treasure, reach for it in the
deep places of your spirit and you will
find that it is there. By giving a new
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(tfjt WotWe CQmtmae (tue
gift to the world you will not only
help to renew society, but for yourself
the coming year will become new.
It may help you to decide what your
gift shall be if you ask what particular
thing your community just now is
most in need of. The world becomes
poor from time to time in various vir
tues and graces, and the gift most
needed is one which will do the
largest service. No matter what the
grace or virtue is which your part of
the world now lacks, you can put that
grace or virtue on the Christmas tree,
and by so doing manifest your grati
tude to Christ. In order to assist you
in your work of self-examination let
me mention several good things which
would be fitting presents in this par
ticular year of our Lord.
In a world like this a conscientious
regard for duty is a valuable commod-
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(tfjt VQotWe (Cflriefmae (tut
ity. There is so little of it that in many
a community the man who will bring
to his work a new sense of obligation
will be the means of lifting life to a
higher level. When the great English
man said: "England expects every
man to do his duty," every sailor who
heard the words understood what was
meant; but there are circles in which
the word "duty" has lost its lustre,
and there are other circles in which
the word has become almost obsolete.
It is a sad day for a soul when it drops
from its vocabulary such expressions
as "I ought!" and "I ought not!"
Just a little conscientiousness intro
duced on Christmas would work a re
formation in many a factory and many
a store and many a home. Put it on
the tree!
A steadfast adherence to the truth
is more valuable than rubies, and even
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(tfje WotCb'e Ctfvietmae (tue
scarcer. We hear people talking now
and then of " white lies," just as though
a lie could ever be of any color other
than black. The talk of society is filled
with fabrications and prevarications
and equivocations, and I know not what
other abominations in Latin names.
We love to cover the edges of our mis
doings by the soft velvet of import
ed words. David in olden times said
in his haste that all men were liars,
but he would probably be tempted to
say the same thing even at his leisure
were he now living in many a com
munity which has a conspicuous place
on the Christian map.
"Lie not one to another," thundered
an apostle long ago, but his words do
not seem to have reached a surprisingly
large number of men and women to
whom the New Testament is not alto
gether unknown. To lie is everywhere

(t^t Wocfo'e fZtjwtmae (tut
and always disgraceful, a scandal and a
shame, even though many respecta
ble persons do not seem to know this.
Falsehood is an evidence of weakness,
and frequently of something even
worse. Lying is not only wicked, but also
uncomfortable. One cannot tell one lie
without going on to tell another. Eden
was spoiled in the first instance by the
telling of a lie, and the seer who saw
the vision of the city of God observed
that no liars are permitted to enter its
gates. The world has suffered every
day of its existence because mortals
have been unwilling to utter the truth,
and the golden age will never dawn
until men cease to deceive. "I am the
truth," said the man whose birth
Christmas Day commemorates. Of all
the lovely things which one may hang
upon the Christmas Tree none proba-
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(tf$t Worfo'e C§mtma$ (tue

bly is more acceptable to Him than a
fresh resolution to speak at all times
and in all places and at all costs the
unvarnished and unadulterated truth.
Honesty is finer than fine gold. It
is worth more than anything which
money can buy. "An honest man's
the noblest work of God;" so declared
an English poet long ago, and the line
has stuck like a burr in the memory
of everybody, even of the rogues them
selves. There are a few virtues so di
vine that we admire them even though
we do not care to take the trouble to
possess them. Even a thief cringes
when he is called a thief. No two
words of human speech jar and jab the
heart as "thief" and " liar." Yet dishon
esty is rampant even in the shadow
of the steeples of Christian churches.
Many a city rich in gold is poor in
honesty. If a man can give to his town
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(ttjt Worfb'e Ctftietmae (tut
an honest heart, he is giving a treasure
whose value is beyond computation.
He is adding to the imperishable wealth
of the world.
The newspapers render a service to
the community in bringing thieves to
judgment. It is well that the defaulters
and the grafters and the unprincipled
financiers should be pictured and pil
loried and made a byword and a hiss
ing to all who pass by. One may be
tempted to judge the world too harshly
by the exclusive reading of the papers,
and assent to Hamlet's cynical remark
that to be honest as this world goes is
to be one man picked out of ten thou
sand. Against this temptation to deal
in wholesale judgments, every man
who loves justice must be always on
his guard. The honest men do not get
into the papers, and a world of hon
orable dealing is passed by every day
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(t$t WottVe CQtietmae (tut
unnoticed. But it is also true that the
dishonesty in the world is appalling
in its dimensions, and that every man
who is interested in the progress of the
race ought to set his face like flint
against dishonesty in its every form.
What better gift can one make, then,
on Christmas than a determination to
keep free through the coming year
from every sort of dishonesty in word
and thought and deed? Such a deter
mination is a gift to the world, for " he
serves all who dares be true."
Or why not give the saving grace
of a cheerful heart? The world is in
dire need of sunshine. There are many
burdens and many tears. Many souls,
like so many chimneys, fill the air with
smoke. A heavy mist hangs dark above
the land. The air is filled with fare
wells of the dying and also lamenta
tions of broken hearts over the bodies
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(tf}t Wotfo'e Ctyvietmae (tut
of the dead. A little laughter is a beam
of sunshine, and a happy face is like
a piece of blue sky seen between the
rolling clouds of a storm.
Worry is one of the most fatal of all
transgressions. It is a sin against not
one organ of the body, but against the
body as a whole. It is a demon whose
pressure is felt upon the heart, and
there is not a capillary in any gland
or tissue which does not shrink under
the glance of its gloomy eyes. A man
who worries is slowly draining the
springs of life. He not only stunts him
self, but he makes it harder for others
to grow and blossom. Depression is a
vice, and like all vices it must be dealt
with firmly and with vigor.
What is the effect of your presence
in your home? Does your look fall like
a sunbeam or a shadow across the
breakfast-table? Does your conversa-

(t$e Wotf&'e Ctjmtmae (tut
tion lie like a strip of summer sky or
a patch of midnight across the family
life? Upon what subjects do you speak
with largest freedom and keenest rel
ish? — your aches and failures, or the
things which are beautiful and fine and
high? For your ; own_ sjtkj_anjL£br_the
sake of others you ought to bring _yaur
soul into a jubilant mood. All Chris
tian virtues grow best under a sky filled
with sun, and the man or woman who
persists in being gloomy and sour and
moody will have his home filled at last
with weeds and brambles and briers.
An intention to be joyous would be
a fine contribution to the Christmas
Tree. Why not make some new sacrifice
for the Christian church? It may be
that you have never made such a sac
rifice in all your life. You have thus
far held aloof from the church, you
24

(tQt Worfo'e CQwtmae (tut
have criticised it, you have sometimes
scoffed at it. You do not utterly forsake
it, for you listen to its songs and ser
mons, but you have steadfastly refused
to identify yourself with it. This has
been your attitude because of the
church's many faults — you are not
blind, and you can see that professing
Christians are far from perfect; you
know church members who are hypo
crites; you have chronicled many a de
fect of work and worship, and can re
peat a long list of crimson sins.
But I would not do this on Christ
mas Eve. The spirit of criticism is not
the spirit of Christmas. Christmas is
a kind and charitable time, a loving,
forgiving time, and even the Christian
church ought to be thought of tenderly
on the night before Christmas. I will
not defend the church against any of
the accusations which you bring against
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(t$t Worfd'e Ctjtietmae (tut
it. She is indeed a sinner, but God is
the friend of sinners, and you ought to
be their friend also.
The church has done many things
amiss, but has it never done anything
noble or right? Can you remember
anything which it has done for the
poor, or for women, or for little chil
dren? Can you think of anything it
has done for the sorrowing, the be
reaved, the bewildered and the forlorn?
Are you not grateful that over the
casket it has said for nineteen hun
dred years: "O death, where is thy
sting?" and by' the side of the open
tomb it has cried: "O grave, where
is thy victory?" Is it not something to
thank God for that in a world like
this there exists an institution which
holds up the life of an ideal man, and
which repeats in sermon and anthem
straight onward through the years:
26

(tfjt Wotf&'e fcQwtmae (tut
" God so loved the world that he gave
his only begotten Son" ? Is it nothing
to you that in a world so worn and
weary, a company of the followers of
Jesus have been willing to keep alive
his word: "Come unto me, all ye that
labor and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest"?
It may be that you have never been
grateful before, and that an apprecia
tive word for the church has never es
caped your lips. Why not begin to be
grateful on the night before Christ
mas? A little bit of gratitude placed on
the Christmas tree is one of the very
best gifts which a soul can offer.
It may be that you will offer a prayer
for the salvation of the world. Christ
mas Eve is one of the best of all even
ings for praying. You say you have
never prayed, you do not believe in
prayer, you know scientific reasons
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(t$t WotWe CQtietmae (tut

why men ought not to pray, you can
ask questions which wise men cannot
answer, you have read somewhere that
prayer is of no value, it has been told
you by some book that speaking to
God is both futile and foolish. But if
it be true that somebody has said we
need not pray, it is also true that some
body else has said: " Men ought always
to pray, and not to faint."
Whom will you believe on Christ
mas Eve? The men whom you have
heard talk against prayer are no doubt
clever and plausible people, but they
have not been able to set people sing
ing in five continents. For my own part
I prefer to listen to Jesus of Nazareth,
and when I see him praying I will
follow his example. Why not put a
prayer on the Christmas Tree?
"More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of."
28

(tfjt Wotfb'e CQtietmat (tut
And if you and all who intend to keep
the Christmas season -will offer up a
prayer for God's benediction on all
homes and hearts, this old world of
ours will be this Christmas season
bound with golden chains about the
feet of God.
Why not make a gift of your will?
On whose side have you cast your life
during the past year? Have you been
drifting with the current? Have you
been the sport of circumstances? Have
you been the slave of your environ
ment? Have you been carried hither
and thither by every wind that blows?
Have you fallen into the prevailing
customs and practices of the day, say
ing with a laugh that when one is in
Rome he must do as the Romans do?
Life all around you has been narrow
and barren and sordid, ideals have been
low and ambitions have been petty —
29

(t$e Wottb'e fcQvietmae (tut
why not throw yourself on the other
side and labor to make life noble and
rich and fruitful and sweet? Why not
fight a good fight? Why not finish the
course? Why not keep the faith? Why
not start to-night to win a crown?
What will you give the world? On
this side stands the great Christmas
Tree — on that side stands the world.
Having gazed into the world's sad eyes
for a moment, will you not put on the
tree a prayer, an aspiration, a resolu
tion, a purpose? If you will do this,
angels will sing at this Christmas as
they sang at the Christmas long ago.
Yes, Christmas is a season for giving,
but unless the best gifts are given, we
miss the meaning of the festival. The
man who has set all the world to cel
ebrating his birthday was a poor man
to the day of his death. Silver and gold
had he none, but of such things as he
30

(t§t WotWe <Z^mtma& (tut
had gave he to men. He had courage
and patience and kindness, he had pu
rity and mercy and faith, he had joy
and hope and love, and all these he
gave freely to the world. He himself
was a gift of God. God had from the
beginning showered good things on
the nations, but when the time came
to give the best of all gifts, it was not
silver nor gold nor precious stones
which He gave, but a man; and not a
rich man either, but a man who was
simply kind and true and good. It
would seem, then, that the very best
gift which God himself can bestow is
a man, and it would seem also that the
best gift which a man can give is not
silver nor gold nor precious stones, but
just the inspiration of a stainless mind
and the boundless sympathy of a lov
ing heart.
Jesus gave himself, and therefore
31

(t§t Worf&'e (Ztymtmae (tut
hath God highly exalted Him and
given Him a name which is above
every name, and set men and women in
every land to celebrating the day which
commemorates His birth. What will
you give the world this Christmas?

32

&ow Certain &)tn fong a$o
xvtu ttb to tf}t fkin$
€^ I* HE story of the Magi is a pic-
V-JL ture- Who can look at it once
and ever forget it? The desert and the
sand and the camels and the Oriental
costumes of the travelers, and the great
sky with stars burning in it, one star
brighter than all the rest, — all blend
together and form a picture which art
ists have loved to paint and musicians
have loved to sing. Let us look again
at the star.
It was the star that led these men
to the King. They were astronomers,
or in the old speech, astrologers, and
their business was to study the stars.
It was while they were doing their or
dinary work that the hint came which
opened a new era in their lives. Their
study was the channel through which
33

$>ow Ctttain Often ton$ a$o
intimations flowed by which they were
guided to the feet of the King. God
found these men in their work. This
seems to have been his method from
the beginning. Out of a man's work
the Divine Voice ever comes. God set
the first man to tending the garden,
and it was among the trees that the
first conversation between Man and his
Creator occurred. Moses was a shep
herd, and it was while he was tending
the sheep that he came to know that
it was God's intention to make him
a leader of men. David was also a shep
herd, and it was in the sheepfold that
the Divine Voice was first heard. The
greatest of Hebrew law-givers and the
greatest of Hebrew kings came to the
throne through their daily occupation.
It was while Gideon was threshing and
Elisha was ploughing and Amos was
pruning the sycamore trees that the
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word of the Lord became to them au
dible, and they discovered what it was
that Heaven would have them do.
The method pursued under the Old
Dispensation was not discontinued un
der the Dispensation which we call
New. It was while Peter and Andrew
and James and John were working
with their nets that Jesus said to them,
"Follow me." Fishermen they had
been, and fishermen they are still to be,
but on a wider and more dangerous
sea. It was while Matthew sat at the
receipt of custom, counting up his
money, that his call came, and the pen
that had been used in writing columns
of figures was used thereafter in writ
ing the story of God's love. The shep
herds were at their work when they
heard the angels sing, and the scholars
of the East in their effort to extend
the boundaries of their knowledge
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fooxv Certain 6fttn tons ago
were flooded with a light which made
all things new. To one who reads the
Scriptures with discerning eyes the en
tire Bible is a narrative relating how
various types of men at different times
and in sundry places have been led by
divers sorts of stars to God.
May we not think, then, of our daily
task as a medium of revelation? Why
not consider our work a kind of Bible
in which we are to read with increas
ing clearness the will of the Eternal?
There are various reasons why we
might expect to find heaven's fullest
revelations in our work. In the first
place we live with it. We abide with
it day by day. We drop it only to eat
or sleep or for a brief season of recrea
tion, and then come back to it again.
God has a better chance to reach us
through our work than through any
other medium. Moreover, we put our-
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selves into it. Into it, if we are faith
ful, goes the best energy of the brain
and the strongest purpose of the heart.
It becomes a companion, almost a part
of one's self. By holding ourself close to
it, it exerts an influence over us, mould
ing our disposition and fashioning our
temper. When one stops to think how
much of the discipline of the mind and
spirit comes from the thing which we
habitually do, and how not only the
tone of the heart but the habit of the
soul is influenced and shaped by our
daily occupation, it is not difficult to
see that in this work lies concealed the
very hand of the Almighty, and that
in ways we think not of He is mould
ing us day by day and hour by hour
into vessels fit for His use. What is
your work? Whatever it is, it is the
angels' song. Follow it! No matter
what it is, it is the star of Bethlehem. 37

#>ow Ctttain &}tn tons a$o
Follow it! Our work rightly done leads
invariably to the feet of the King.
In what direction is your work lead
ing you? It is a question of cardinal
moment. Work may lead away from
the King. The work of Herod was
ruling. He was so jealous of his ruler-
ship that when word came that a King
had been born he laid plans to mur
der Him. It was his work which led
Herod to hate Jesus. Judas also was de
stroyed by his work. He was treasurer
of the Apostolic band. He carried the
bag, and out of that bag the serpent
crawled which poisoned and crushed
his soul. Day by day as he counted the
coins, his heart departed farther and
farther from Jesus. The touch of the
silver kindled in him a dislike of the
loving touch of the Lord. His work
was the avenue down which he reeled
to destruction. Herod and Judas, two
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wrecked souls, stand as warnings in the
New Testament story, reminding each
succeeding generation of the awful
peril of allowing one's work to lead
the soul away from Christ. The scep
tre of Herod led him away from Him;
the shepherds' crook led them to Him.
The bag of Judas led him away from
Him, the star of the Magi led them to
Him. What is your work doing for you ?
The temptation which overcame
Herod and Judas still confronts us all.
Herod feared and hated Jesus because
Jesus was called a king. That is why
men keep away from Him to-day. It is
the authority of Christianity which of
fends and estranges. We want to be
kings ourselves. We want to rule all
the realms of our life. Religion seems
an impertinence. Christ seems an in
truder. There is no room for Him in
the Judea of our life. He speaks as one
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$>ow Certain 0$en tons as<>
having authority, and we turn our
backs upon Him because we want to
do what we wish and go where we
choose. Like Herod, we suspect and
fear the Prince of Glory because He
sets himself up as King.
Along with the jealousy of Herod
runs also the covetousness of Judas.
We have money, it may be, and we
want more. We have knowledge, per
haps, and we want more. We have
power, possibly, and we want still
more. We carry the bag and we will
cram it full, and Jesus keeps on saying
to us: "Give!" It is for these reasons
that our work may gradually eat out the
life of the soul. Where are you going?
In what direction is your face set? Is
your star leading you to Bethlehem?
The question has peculiar signifi
cance addressed to the modern repre
sentatives of the Magi, the educated
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classes of the Occident. It is in cultured
circles that one often finds the great
est indifference to Jesus and the dens
est ignorance of His person and work.
University graduates hold aloof from
the Son of God in such large num
bers that the question is mooted from
time to time just what the tendency
of the educational world really is. Is
present-day science hostile to Jesus?
Does the philosophy of the modern
schools extinguish the light of the star
of Bethlehem? Does the observation
of phenomena dim the eyes and chill
the heart? Does a passion for investi
gation and the love of research unfit
one to kneel at the feet of the King?
These are questions to ponder over at
"Christmas time. We know that certain
scholars of the East, by studying the
phenomena of nature, were led by
their study to the manger in Bethle-
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#>ow Certain Often tons aso
hem. Why should not study always,
if conducted in the right spirit, lead
the soul to Him in whom all things
consist? If the characteristic feature
of the modern scientific spirit is docil
ity, a willingness to study the facts and
follow where they lead, may we not
confidently expect that the world of
scientific culture will sooner or later
find itself casting its gold and frankin
cense and myrrh at the feet of the
King? The passion for knowledge,
which is the peculiar glory of our age,
must lead men at last to the feet of the
Teacher who calmly declares, "I am
the truth." Not only is He the truth,
but He is the way and the life, and no
one comes to the Father but through
Him. To know God, and Jesus Christ
whom God has sent — this is eternal
life. Men may make amazing conquests
over the realms of nature and life, and
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they may pile up their knowledge in
glittering heaps, but it is a fact borne
in upon us with new force in our time
that all knowledge is transitory, and
all acquisitions are valuable only for a
day. How quickly the text-books be
come worthless, how swiftly the wis
est volumes in philosophy are out
grown! No century cares much for
either the science or philosophy or the
ology or learning of the century which
preceded it, so ephemeral are the most
ambitious structures which mortals can
build. Herod may be proud of his scep
tre, but death soon breaks it; Judas
may exult in the fact that his bag is
full, but the treasures will soon be scat
tered, and the soul must stand alone
before its Maker. In the first instant
after death it may be that we shall see
and hear and learn things which will
supersede all the learning which by
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years of industry we have acquired in
earth's schools. There is only one
thing, therefore, worth seeking, and
that is a soul capable of adoring and
serving the King. Who can make it
capable but the King himself? How
can the King work His miracle of
grace upon it unless the soul finds Him
and surrenders itself to Him? Christ
mas is a star which shines to lead men
to Jesus. There was another wise man
in addition to those already referred
to, who nineteen hundred years ago
found his way to the King, — Saul of
Tarsus. Saul was among the most
learned men of his day, and this was
his conclusion in the maturity of his
powers and at the noon of his life:
" Though I have the gift of prophecy,
and understand all mysteries, and all
knowledge; and though I have all faith
so that I could remove mountains, and
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have not love, I am nothing. . . . And
now abideth faith, hope, love, these
three; but the greatest of these is love."
Faith in God, Hope in God, Love for
God, these are the things which en
dure, and these are the gold and frank
incense and myrrh which, unless our
eyes have been blinded and our hearts
have been darkened, we will pour out,
not only now at Christmas, but straight
onward through the years, at the feet
of the loving and adorable and omni
potent King.

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