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Rees Ensen sens SE a a SENSE SENSENTEDSEOSE NS 
“THE CHRISA giao: . 
es REV. LOUIS H. RUGE PREACHES ELOQUENT CHRISTMAS SERe Bn 
Be MON AT THE MANCHESTER CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH <6 .9% 
Ensensens 
Ensen 
Ene EASE AEA TEN TEASER TEN IEDC TENE ASTD TEASE NIEDSEOSEN SENSE SENSE NIEDSROSENSEOTENS 
Rey. Louis H. Ruge, the pastor 
of the Orthodox Congregational 
church, returned with his family 
from a visit of several weeks in New 
York city, to celebrate the Christ- 
mas festivities in Manchester. His 
sermon last Sunday morning was 
pronounced by everyone to be one 
of unusual merit both in substance 
and delivery. We publish it in 
part. He said: 
‘‘When suns are low and nights are long, 
And winds bring wild alarms, 
Through the darkness comes the queen of 
the year 
In all her peerless charms; 
December, fair and holly-crowned 
With the Christ child in her arms.’’ 
The one inexhaustable subject of 
the world is Christ. 
On one occasion, as Moody fin- 
ished a Christmas sermon, he said 
to an old Scotch divine sitting on 
the platform: ‘‘I did not finish my 
subject.’’ ‘‘ Ah mon,’’ said the 
Seotehman, ‘‘ye dinna expect to 
finish it, did ye?”’ 
It will take all eternity to finish 
telling the story of the Christ. The 
poets will ever go on inditing poems 
of praise to him. The great paint- 
ers will ever go on inspired to por- 
tray their sublime ideals of him. 
The great singers will ever choose 
his name in which to reach the tri- 
umph of their art. The eloquence 
of human lips will ever soar to 
reach the climax of oratory sound- 
ing forth his glory. All the wis- 
dom of the ages will ever go on 
unfolding the wonders of this mar- 
velous Being after they have ex- 
hausted the wonders of the material 
universe. Yes, when the story of the 
universe is old and threadbare, the 
story of the Christ will still be full 
of wonders to proclaim. 
The greatest of all festivals is 
Christmas. Let not the addresses 
of our publie orators on the na- 
tion’s birthday or memorial day or 
labor day or any other holiday de- 
ceive vou, this is the greatest holi- 
dav of all ages. 
In this day not one nation re- 
joiees, but all nations of the earth 
rejoice. No other festival unites 
the world as the Christ Mass. 
It is the world’s holy day. We 
are all brothers and sisters in our 
rally round the Christmas tree. In 
the ancestral halls of Old England 
it is ‘‘ Merry Christmas.’’ In the 
homes of Germany it is the glad 
season of the year. In sunny Italy 
and on the frozen deserts of Russia 
there is this joy. In India and Af- 
rica, in Australia and Brazil, from 
fair Pacific isles to glittering Ice- 
land, it is the one great season of 
the year. 
This year there will be more 
Christmas trees ablaze in China 
than ever before, and more Chinese 
ehildren are looking for Santa 
Claus as we now tell this, than ever 
before. Japan is ringing with 
‘*Merry Christmas’’ and her art em- 
poriums are ablaze with Christmas 
gifts on sale to outrival the shop 
windows of America. But in our 
own dear land the Christ Mass— 
festival—is celebrated with an en- 
thusiasm and joy unmatched around 
the world, 
There has been a doleful note in- 
jected into the season by someone 
on Christmas buying and the lavish 
bestowal of gifts. But let the phil- 
osophers grow doleful about the 
pomp and pride and parade of 
Christmas shopping and giving, the 
day is worth a thousand times all 
it costs. It is the one season of the 
year when from the richest to the 
poorest we let our enthusiasm run 
away with us and I pity the poor 
soul that is not touched by it. The 
great department stores and streets 
of New York and Boston were an 
inspiration to me. 
So let us keep this festival at 
fever heat and in united bursts of 
enthusiasm sing, ‘‘Glory to God in 
the highest, and on earth, peace, 
good-will to men.’’ Forget how 
tired you have been planning and 
shopping; forget how much it may 
have cost in dollars and cents, for 
the joy and hope it all means to the 
world is worth this infinitely more 
than we ean realize. 
What an awful subtraction from 
the world’s joy and hope today if 
there was no Christmas: How much 
would you give to keep it on the 
calendar for the dear children alone 
not counting the grown-ups? 
Why. we have never gotten over 
those Christmas days of childhood. 
BREEZE 
What a treasured memory it is for- 
ever! Never a gift was lavished 
upon us in vain for we live the joy 
of it over annually. The dolls are 
all broken and gone, but they live 
even in the aged spinster’s heart as 
if they were indeed the children of 
the sweetest motherhood. And 
where are the old tin soldiers and 
painted sleds and new skates? All 
gone, you say? Not so; they are all 
treasured in our memories of this 
glad New Christmas dawn. 
Once a year we all throw off the 
burden of the past and are children 
again. The aged forget their rheu- 
matism and shortness of breath and 
in the joy of the hour all the sor- 
rows of a lifetime are forgotten as 
we all join in the shout ‘‘ Merry 
Christmas.”’ 
Ah, to me that jolly old Santa 
Claus is more real than ever. I am 
better acquainted with him now 
than in my childhood. I know more 
about his love and self-sacrifice. I 
know now how his reindeers can 
skim along the snow-crested clouds 
and how that jolly round fellow can 
come down such a narrow chimney 
place. 
The holly and the ivy and the mis- 
tletoe look prettier to me now than 
ever. 
The Puritans did not make much 
of Christmas and called it supersti- 
tious, and a lot of foolish people 
would like to go to Santa Claus’ fu- 
neral and all that sort of stuff, but 
with all its superstitions and tradi- . 
tions of the past, with all the mod- 
ern lavish display added, Christmas 
never did us anything but good. 
Then rally round this tree that 
bears all manner of fruit good for 
the heart of man starving only too 
much and too often for the fruits it 
yields. Christ’s birth is the event 
of the world’s history. No event in 
human life stands by itself. It is 
the resultant of a vast combination 
of forces. And so when an event 
like this grips the heart of the world 
this way it is my conviction that it 
is the result of infinite forces work- 
ing together for the good of man. 
Christ’s birth is the glory of mother- 
hood. The eurtain of one night out 
of the ages lifts and the star singers 
of heaven chant the glories of a 
child’s birth. And whatever be the 
co-ineidents of any child’s birth it 
is forever holy because it is God’s 
act in creation. 
Every human genius is here in- 
spired to ultimate achievement. 
Every gallery of note must have 
this masterpiece of mother and 
child that crowned the art of Cor- 
reggio, Raphael, to the Sistine Ma- 
donna, the masterpiece of them all 
: 
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