festival did not happen, you would feel gloomy and discouraged. A
birthday is a device for recalling to you in a formal and impressive
manner that a certain person still lives and is in need of goodwill. It
is a device which experience has proved to be both valuable and
necessary.

* * * * *

Real faith effervesces; it shoots forth in every direction; it
communicates itself. And the inevitable result is a festival. The
festival is anticipated with pleasure, and it is remembered with
pleasure. And thus it reacts stimulatingly on that which gave it birth,
as the vitality of children reacts stimulatingly on the vitality of
parents. It provides a concrete symbol of that which is invisible and
intangible, and mankind is not yet so advanced in the path of spiritual
perfection that we can afford to dispense with concrete symbols. Now, if
we maintain festivals and formalities for the healthy continuance and
honour of a pastime or of a personal affection, shall we not maintain a
festival--and a mighty one--in behalf of a faith which makes the
corporate human existence bearable amid the menaces and mysteries that
for ever threaten it,--the faith of universal goodwill and mutual
confidence?

* * * * *

If then, there is to be a festival, why should it not be the festival of
Christmas? It can, indeed, be no other. Christmas is most plainly
indicated. It is dignified and made precious by traditions which go back
much further than the Christian era; and it has this tremendous
advantage--it exists! In spite of our declining faith, it has been