a widow snatched from the jaws of infamy, a murderer who had first slain and then burned his own wife—all converts to Christ and children of God.—Pierson, "The Miracles of Missions."
(427)
Christianity, Successful—See Church, Success of.
CHRISTIANITY SUPERIOR
Every strong man wants to know what
his opponent can say. He covets criticism,
asks for investigation, welcomes analysis and
contrast. Christianity has won its greatest
victory through comparative religion. If you
can only get the man with an ox-cart to
put his vehicle beside the new locomotive; if
you can only get the tallow candle and the
gas flame into contrast with the electric light;
if you can only get Buddha and Confucius
side by side with Jesus—that is all that can
be asked. The stickler for a little fire and a
tallow candle will have nothing to say after
you open the curtain and let the sunshine in.—N.
D. Hillis.
(428)
Christianity Traversing Heathenism—See Opportunity in the Orient.
Christianity Vindicated—See Triumph
of Christianity.
Christians, Dyspeptic—See Food and
Exercise.
CHRISTMAS
What angels sang on that first Christmas morn,
"Good will to men," "The Prince of Peace is born,"
Breaks once again in benediction clear,
Sure song of God, the climax of the year.
Round, round the earth the blessed measures run,
Strife sheathes the sword, a thousand think as one,
Babes leap for joy, December hearts aglow
Burn with the hopes they burned with long
ago.
Strain urges strain, benevolence is sped,
Dives relents and Lazarus is fed.
Mirth makes a laugh where sorrow made a sigh,
Heart wakes to heart—the Seraphim are nigh.
"Good will and peace," the song is on the air,
"Good will and peace," I hear it everywhere—
"Peace on the earth," in purposes divine,
"Good will to men"—and a good will to mine.
Oh, friend unseen, no gift is in my power;
Gold would be dross in this triumphant hour.
Take, then, the strain the angels sing to me,
"Good will and peace," I send it all to thee.
—L. O. Williams.
(429)
Scattered snow along the hillside, white as springtime fleeces are,
With the whiter wings above them and the glory-streaming star—
Guiding-star across the housetops; never fear the shepherd's felt
Till they found the Babe in manger, where the kindly cattle knelt.
Oh, the shepherds in Judea!—
Do you think the shepherds know
How the whole round earth is brightened
In the ruddy Christmas glow?
How the sighs are lost in laughter, and the laughter brings the tears,
As the thoughts of men go seeking back across the darkling years,
Till they find the wayside stable that the star-led wise men found,
With the shepherds, mute, adoring, and the glory shining round!
—Mary Austin.
(430)
CHRISTMAS ABSURDLY OBSERVED
There is danger, unless a discriminating intelligence preside, of carrying otherwise proper observances to absurd lengths as shown in a recent occurrence in Rochester:
A unique Christmas party was given
Christmas eve by Mrs. Louis E. Fuller,
organist at Brick Church, at her home, No.
105 South Fitzhugh Street. The novel part
of the affair was that it was given for Mrs.
Fuller's two pet cats, Limit and Sir Gobelin,
and the five dinner guests were all cat-lovers,
and each guest who came brought a gift for
the two cats of their hostess. The presents
were adapted to the amusement and decorative
side of the cats' lives. There were
dainty ribbon collars with great satin bows,
