sown; the cattle were safe in yard and stall; and men had time to
rest, and draw round the fire in the long winter nights, and make
merry over the earnings of the past year, and the hopes and plans of
the year to come. And so over all this northern half of the world
Christmas was a merry time.

But the poor heathens did not know the Lord. They did not know who
to thank for all their Christmas blessings. And so some used to
thank the earth for the crops, and the sun for coming back again to
lengthen the days, as if the earth and sun moved of themselves. And
some used to thank false gods and ancient heroes, who, perhaps, never
really lived at all. And some, perhaps the greater number, thanked
nothing and no one, but just enjoyed themselves, and took no thought,
as too many do now at Christmas-time. So the world went on,
Christmas after Christmas; and the times of that ignorance, as St.
Paul says, God winked at. But when the fulness of time was come, He
sent forth His Son, made of a woman, to be the judge and ruler of the
world; and commanded all men everywhere to repent, and turn from all
their vanities to serve the living God, who had made heaven and
earth, and all things in them.

He did not wish them to give up their Christmas mirth. No: all
along He had been trying to teach them by it about His love to them.
As St. Paul told them once, God had not left Himself without witness,
in that He gave them rain and fruitful seasons, filling their hearts
with joy and gladness.

God did not wish them, or us, to give up Christmas mirth. The
apostles did not wish it. The great men, true followers of the
apostles, who shaped our Prayer-book for us, and sealed it with their