Christmas Day was sunny and beautiful. The bending sky was as deeply
blue as that which hung over Bethlehem eighteen hundred years
before; God's coloring had not faded. Happy children prattled as
joyously as did the little Jew boys who clustered curiously about
the manger to gaze upon the holy babe, the sleeping Jesus. Human
nature had not altered one whit beneath the iron wheel of Time. Is
there a man so sunk in infamy or steeped in misanthropy that he has
not, at some period of his life, exclaimed, in view of earth's
fadeless beauty: "'This world is very lovely. O my God!
I thank Thee that I live.'"
Alas for the besotted soul who cannot bend the knee of humble
adoration before nature's altar, where sacrifices are offered to the
Jehovah, pavilioned in invisibility. There is an ardent love of
nature as far removed from gross materialism or subtle pantheism on
the one hand as from stupid inappreciation on the other. There is
such a thing as looking "through nature up to nature's God,"
notwithstanding the frightened denials of those who, shocked at the
growing materialism of the age, would fain persuade this generation
to walk blindfold through the superb temple a loving God has placed
us in. While every sane and earnest mind must turn, disgusted and
humiliated, from the senseless rant which resolves all divinity into
materialistic elements, it may safely be proclaimed that genuine
aesthetics is a mighty channel through which the love and adoration
of Almighty God enters the human soul. It were an insult to the
Creator to reject the influence which even the physical world exerts
on contemplative natures. From bald, hoary mountains, and somber,
solemn forests; from thundering waves and wayside violets; from
gorgeous sunset clouds, from quiet stars and whispering winds, come
unmistakable voices, hymning of the Eternal God--the God of Moses,
of Isaac, and of Jacob. Extremes meet in every age, and in every
department. Because one false philosophy would deify the universe,
startled opponents tell us to close our ears to these musical
utterances and shut our eyes to glorious nature, God's handiwork.
Oh! why has humanity so fierce a hatred of medium paths?
Ragged boys and barefooted girls tripped gayly along the streets,
merry and uncomplaining; and, surrounded by velvet, silver, and
marble, by every superfluity of luxury, Cornelia Graham, with a
bitter heart and hopeless soul, shivered in her easy-chair before a
glowing fire. The Christmas sunlight crept in through the heavy
crimson curtains and made gorgeous fret-work on the walls, but its
cheering radiance mocked the sickly pallor of the invalid, and, as
Beulah retreated to the window and peeped into the street, she felt
an intense longing to get out under the blue sky once more. Mr. and
Mrs. Graham and Antoinette sat round the hearth, discussing the
tableaux for the evening, while, with her cheek upon her hand,
Cornelia listlessly fingered a diamond necklace which her father had
just given her. The blazing jewels slipped through her pale fingers
all unnoticed, and she looked up abstractedly when Mr. Graham
touched her, and repeated his question for the third time.