NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
MANCHESTER, MASS., FRIDAY, DECEMBER 25, 1908. 
THE EPIC BIRTH. 
RANDOM THOUGHTS. 
BY D. F. LAMSON. 
No. XXX. 
At this Christmas-tide we may be 
thankful that peace on earth seems nearer 
realization than often in the past. “The 
day may be distant when it will be uni- 
versal and complete, but we can at least 
behold the vision of it, and the world 
seems moving in the direction of it. 
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Progress is the watchword of the hour; 
it is blasoned on banners, proclaimed 
from platforms, taught by the schools, 
passed along the ranks of the combatants. 
The question of moment is, What is 
the nature of the progress, under what 
guidance, and in what direction? Is it 
on a right line, or on a tangent. ? 
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Thought transference, mind reading, 
sub-liminal consciousness, hypnotism, 
and various other mental phenomena, 
some of which are no new thing under 
the sun but simply parading with new 
names, show us that Hamlet was right 
when he said, ‘“there are more things in 
heaven and ‘earth, Horatio, than are 
dreamed of in your philosophy.”? At 
the present stage of both physical and 
mental knowledge, the withholding of 
hasty and positive opinions and judg- 
ments would seem to be the part of wis- 
dom and modesty. 
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Many who seem to enjoy perfect se- 
renity of mind purchase it by shutting 
the eyes to the world’s sore misery and 
pain. One who has to bear the burdens 
of humanity, a Howard, a Wilburforce, 
a Lincoln, a Florence Nightingale, can- 
not always be at ease and hilarious; but 
they who are called to bear the infirm- 
ities of the weak, and who share the 
griefs of the Man of sorrows, have a joy 
beside which mere smug content with 
one’s own favored enviroment, or jaunty 
indifference to the world’s sorrow, is 
not worthy of mention. 
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The spacious times of the great Eliza- 
beth were times of great adventure, great 
bravery, and great achievement; as we 
read of them in the pages of historians, 
we are amazed at their splendor; but on 
the whole they must have been sad times 
to live in, they lacked many of the com- 
forts and amenities of our modern times, 
their rudeness and cruelty were poorly 
compensated for by their half-barbaric 
magnificence. 
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A certain system of theology known by 
the name of a noted reformer is stigma- 
The above was the theme of a Christ- 
mas sermon by L. H. Ruge, pastor of 
the Congregational church, at Manches- 
ter, last Sunday morning. Mr. Ruge 
began by saying :— 
Latin, Epicus; Greek, Epikos; Epos, 
Word. ‘‘ The word was made flesh.’’ 
This incarnate Word of God, this incar- 
nate Truth of God, this incarnate Life 
of God makes the birth of Christ the 
Epic birth of man. 
The epic tale, art, poem, or drama is 
forever outclassed by this epic life. The 
book of Job, Das Nibelungenlied, 
Homer’s Iliad, Virgil’s AEnied, Milton’s 
Paradise Lost, Tasso’s Jerusalem, Klop- 
stock’s Messiah,—Ah, these are epics 
that set times apart in the history of the 
world; but they are academic figures, 
the mere copies of the visions of genius; 
here is the living, divine Epic man of 
all ages. 
‘* She brought forth her firstborn son 
and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, 
an laid him ina manger; because there 
was no room for them in theinn.”’ 
The glory of geography is Palestine, 
not Europe, not America; not Boston, 
but Bethlehem of Judea. 
Turn back the pages of this century’s 
old story of the Christ. A humble man 
and woman have made a long journey 
of eighty miles. How it wore upon the 
woman down the valley of the Jordan 
and across the desert of Judea, until they 
arrive at the inn. But there is no room, 
no privacy for the virgin mother. ‘This 
is easily understood, this couple were 
poor. We may be quite sure there was 
room for rich publicans and pharisees. 
It was a course and unfeeling thing to 
thrust Mary that night into a stall. Let 
us not forget that Jesus taught this world 
gentleness and the finer feelings, but at 
his birth there was not a gentle man or a 
gentle woman to give place to Mary. 
The epic hour of the ages has come. 
In the fullness of time Christ came.”’ 
The very ages travelled in birth with this 
child. The epic hour of empire has 
come for ‘‘the Kingdom of heaven is at 
hand.’’? The epic hour of fulfillment of 
prophecy has come and the vision of 
Isaiah is realized. “The heavens travelled 
in birth when the Son of God was born. 
The epic hour of sin’s fatal fever has 
come. Some time in your life you were 
held in the grip of a dread fever and the 
crisis came, but you slept with a health 
dew on your brow. ‘That was the epic 
hour in your span of years. In the 
morn when the Christ child opened its 
eyes to the light of day all the world 
awoke convalescent. 
The story looks intensely human when 
we look at the thirty odd years of this 
life, but it is strangely divine when we 
look at the sweep of that life through the 
centuries. You may look at the ex- 
tremeties of the Christ life in the flesh 
and say it was merely human, but you 
cannot look at the extremities of the 
Christ spirit in the vast reaches of Christ- 
tian civilization and human salvation and 
say it was merely human. 
Oh, the deep,and high reaches of that 
life! Some of the old masters have 
plainted the beasts as kneeling at the 
manger, and well they might kneel to 
him who came to them for shelter that 
they might some day come to him for 
shelter. As you ride past Boston’s mas- 
sive hospital for animals reverently re- 
member that the suffering brutes have 
felt the Savior’s power. ‘There is not a 
Continued on next page 
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tized by many as wanting in all justice 
and reason and humanity; at the same 
time these very critics eulogize it as the 
source of all that is best in our modern 
life and civilization. Ai1e not these men 
bound to show how such an evil tree can 
bring forth such good fruit? ‘* Do men 
gather grapes of thorns, or figs of 
thistles?’’ 
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A new year brings with it many mem- 
ories of the past, among them those of 
mistakes and failures; but it should also 
awaken new hopes and purposes, and be 
to us an incentive and stimulus to high 
endeavor; it is not what we are, but 
what we are aiming at, that is the real 
test of character. “Not as though I 
were already perfect. . . . but I press 
toward the mark.”’ 
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A great deal often depends on the 
view-point; teachers sometimes think 
some things important that pupils do not; 
parents and children do not always see 
things alike; and it is by no means _ sur- 
prising if God’s thoughts are not as our 
thoughts, though many seem to think 
they ought to be. What then? Shall 
we give over the management of our 
schools to the pupils, or let children rule 
over us, or deny God his authority? 
Shall the greater submit to the less, or the 
less to the greater? Shall we overturn 
the whole system of the universe? Com- 
mon sense would give but one answer, 
