together, they cast varying gleams on the great fact of the birth of
Jesus Christ.

Why should there be a miraculous announcement at all, and why should
it be to these shepherds? It seems to have had no effect beyond a
narrow circle and for a time. It was apparently utterly forgotten
when, thirty years after, the carpenter's Son began His ministry.
Could such an event have passed from memory, and left no ripple on
the surface? Does not the resultlessness cast suspicion on the
truthfulness of the narrative? Not if we duly give weight to the few
who knew of the wonder; to the length of time that elapsed, during
which the shepherds and their auditors probably died; to their
humble position, and to the short remembrance of extraordinary
events which have no immediate consequences. Joseph and Mary were
strangers in Bethlehem. Christ never visited it, so far as we know.
The fading of the impression cannot be called strange, for it
accords with natural tendencies; but the record of so great an
event, which was entirely ineffectual as regards future acceptance
of Christ's claims, is so unlike legend that it vouches for the
truth of the narrative. An apparent stumbling-block is left, because
the story is true.

Why then, the announcement at all, since it was of so little use?
Because it was of some; but still more, because it was fitting that
such angel voices should attend such an event, whether men gave heed
to them or not; and because, recorded, their song has helped a world
to understand the nature and meaning of that birth. The glory died
off the hillside quickly, and the music of the song scarcely
lingered longer in the ears of its first hearers; but its notes echo
still in all lands, and every generation turns to them with wonder