They forget, in their confusion, that the great principles, spiritual
and moral, remain absolutely intact. They forget that, after all the
shattering discoveries of science and conclusions of philosophy, mankind
has still to live with dignity amid hostile nature, and in the presence
of an unknowable power and that mankind can only succeed in this
tremendous feat by the exercise of faith and of that mutual goodwill
which is based in sincerity and charity. They forget that, while facts
are nothing, these principles are everything. And so, at that epoch of
the year which nature herself has ordained for the formal recognition of
the situation of mankind in the universe and of its resulting duties to
itself and to the Unknown--at that epoch, they bewail, sadly or
impatiently or cynically: "Oh! The bottom has been knocked out of
Christmas!"

* * * * *

But the bottom has not been knocked out of Christmas. And people know
it. Somewhere, in the most central and mysterious fastness of their
hearts, they know it. If they were not, in spite of themselves,
convinced of it, why should they be so pathetically anxious to keep
alive in themselves, and to foster in their children, the Christmas
spirit? Obviously, a profound instinct is for ever reminding them that,
without the Christmas spirit, they are lost. The forms of faith change,
but the spirit of faith, which is the Christmas spirit, is immortal amid
its endless vicissitudes. At a crisis of change, faith is weakened for
the majority; for the majority it may seem to be dead. It is conserved,
however, in the hearts of the few supremely great and in the hearts of
the simple. The supremely great are hidden from the majority; but the
simple are seen of all men, and them we encourage, often without knowing
why, to be the depositaries of that which we cannot ourselves guard, but