New Year’s Day in Paris in 1858

Excerpts from: ASPECTS OF PARIS. BY EDWARD COPPING. LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, LONGMANS, & ROBERTS. 1858.

CHAP. II. PARIS ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. IF you would see Paris under its gayest aspect, you must see it on the Jour de l'An, or New Year's Day. The Jour de l'An is the most popular of all French holidays; it is the Christmas Day of France. Paris is lively enough on other festivals, but on this she becomes thoroughly gay. Work almost entirely ceases. The ouvrier puts aside his implements; the ouvrière lays down her needle; the clerk flings away his pen; the merchant closes his ledger; the journalist shuts up his bureau; the judge doffs his gown. The unhappy shopman alone has no respite from labour. Rarely, indeed, does he work so hard as on the Jour de l’An. No wonder! All Paris goes out shopping to-day, and he has all Paris to serve. By noon the great movement has fairly begun. Promenading purchasers fill every street; the arcades overflow; the Boulevards are entirely submerged. From the Madeleine to the Château d'Eau, and from the Château d'Eau to the Madeleine, four goodly miles, I trow, the pavements on both sides are occupied by a slowly moving mass of human forms. It is impossible, be assured, to move quickly. Your pace must necessarily be that of the tortoise. Never mind! The hare is fast asleep to-day. You need not fear that he will outstrip you. If the pavement were not doubly encumbered, you would find it impossible to accelerate your speed. Though you should have no more taste than a Hottentot, no more poetry than a paviour, you must stop to gaze at the glittering objects displayed in every shop window. And yet to loiter here is perilous. Your gold pieces are in danger. If you would return with an unlightened purse and an untroubled conscience, retire at once. There is a conspiracy to-day among the Paris shopkeepers to rifle and strip you. Refuse to listen to the voice of prudence, and they will leave you as coinless as was poor Jean-Jacques when he arrived in Turin under the conduct of the worthy Sabrans. If, however, you are determined after this warning to brave the dangers of the Boulevards, your expenditure be upon your own balance sheet! Follow me. Did you ever before see such a display of charming objects, so calculated to decoy artless woman and seduce unsuspecting man? Every tradesman seems to have opened a fancy fair. See! the linen draper puts forth his most ethereal gauzes, his most glossy satins, his most tender velvets. The tobacconist displays the most gorgeous hookahs, the most magnificent meerschaums, the most fanciful pouches, the richest and rarest snuff-boxes. The bookseller is all a-blaze with brilliant bindings. Nothing but resplendent gift books, gilt edged, gilt lettered, and gilt covered, are to be seen on his counters. Even Corneille and Racine would be excluded from this company of well-dressed tomes if they made their appearance in paper dishabille. Then the china-merchant arranges in the most enticing order his choicest porcelain vases, his most glittering cut glass, his most alluring cups and seductive saucers. A man might contentedly leave off tea-drinking forever, if he could but for once sip his souchong out of this ravishing crockery. And then the stationer, where has he obtained all those ink-stands, which of themselves might tempt any man to rush into print; and those piles of fancy note paper, as delicately tinted as a maiden's cheek; and those writing-cases, which seem almost too delicate for even the hand of Beauty to rest upon? Where, indeed! The toy-man might tell us, perhaps, for evidently he has credit at the same establishment. Yet, no! His merry-eyed, rosy- cheeked dolls, were never made by mortal hands. They must have been born of other dolls, some good old lady from fairyland assisting them into life. It is all clear enough now. Every Paris tradesman has fallen madly in love to-day in love with extravagant display. Why even the apothecary adorns his windows with the most attractive patent medicines and the most pleasing surgical instruments. If there were an undertaker here about, depend upon it he would share the general infatuation. He would treat us to rows and rows of charming little baby- coffins of polished oak, intermingled with the choicest specimens of leaden ware for adults. But the most brilliant displays we have yet to see. Yes! hitherto we have been merely dazzled; now we are to be fairly blinded. A man may look at linen drapers, stationers, china merchants, book-sellers, tobacconists, and pass on unscathed, perhaps; but not thus will he pass the shop where knick knack nothings are sold or that where sweetmeats make mute appeals to the greedy stomach of youth. Knick knack nothings! Imagine the indignation of a polished Paris tradesman upon hearing his objets d’art thus contemptuously designated. I retract the expression. We should have a better name for all these beautiful trifles in which art strives to unite itself to utility these taper stands, toilette boxes, jewel boxes, wafer boxes, scent bottles, clock cases, pin receptacles, &c. Granted, that art is sometimes here put to mean employ, as Minerva would be if she were to go out charring. Yet see how it refines and softens everything it touches! Look at that stand for taper and lucifer matches in the centre a little boy and girl are reading a book; they evidently read by the light of the taper; should it go out are not the matches all ready on the other side to rekindle it? Fortunate age! In our forefathers' days art remained shut up in the picture gallery or the sculpture museum a proud beauty who scorned the vulgar gaze. Now she condescendingly puts on a homely mien and comes forth into our humblest dwellings, bringing brightness into their most obscure corners. But at last we have arrived at the most splendid stall in the fair. We are at the sweetmeat shop of which I spoke. This a sweetmeat shop! Why it's the last scene of a pantomime without the coloured fires! a Bower of Beauty, Hall of Radiant Light or Palace of Dazzling Splendour. Where is the good spirit who ought to be somewhere near about waiting to come in on her magic car? The good spirit, my gentle and simple sir, is behind the counter, quite ready to serve you, if you wish to buy anything, but in no mood to listen to your theatrical rhapsodies. Buy! who talks of buying here? This is an art exhibition not a lollypop shop. Those bonbons are too exquisite to be eaten. I should as soon think of eating the Venus de Milo or the Diane Chasseresse. Eyes, not stomachs, surely, are to be feasted with these beautiful coings, these charming abricots, these graceful cerises; these delicate mandarines, mirabelles, Reines Claudes, brochettes, marrons glacés, angéliques, pastèques, and calissons d'Aix! Why! look at the boxes and baskets in which they are contained. They would grace the boudoir of a fairy. A fairy! If Titania were to come here shopping, Oberon would be forced to disclaim all responsibility for her debts in order to save himself from the Bankruptcy Court or Clichy. Come away, man, come away, while yet another six-pence is left in your pocket. Shops, more shops! Yes, the very pavements axe covered with them. All along the main Boulevards and in many of the chief thoroughfares you will see line after line of temporary shops stretching away. They are mere stalls unsightly edifices of rough deal, hastily knocked together, but they add amazingly to the bustle of the streets. Their proprietors are mostly small tradesmen or hucksters, who are allowed by the municipal authorities, in accordance with time-honoured custom, to establish themselves in this manner upon the public pavement for about a week before, and a week after, the Jour de l’An. Purchasers whose purses will not enable them to visit in safety the shops we have just been looking at come, without fear, to these temporary establishments, for the objects they sell are of inferior quality and of low price. In these stalls there is a strange succession of the useful and the ornamental. In one you will see, perhaps, devotional images; in the next, fleecy hosiery. Side by side with illustrated gift books, you will find cheap fire-irons; immediately after porcelain vases come brushes and brooms. You may buy almost anything, indeed, in these wooden marts. The dealers are prepared to supply every want. Toys, trinkets, sham jewellery, drapery goods, stationery, fruit, bonbons, pictures, cakes, pocket-handkerchiefs, crockery, cutlery, bronzes, cravats, thermometers, purses, walking-sticks, stereoscopes, papier-maché tea-trays, hat-pegs, book-cases, chairs, hair-brushes, telescopes, pots and pans, almanacs, pipes, basket-work, artificial flowers, plaster casts, furs, stags' horns, measurement rules, Berlin wool patterns; all may be had in these street storehouses. How much per cent, under prime cost none but an advertiser would be bold enough to state. But why all this unusual display, you ask, after passing miles of stall and shop, miles of shop and stall? To answer is not difficult. The Jour de l’An is a day on which everybody in France makes presents. As poor as a pauper, or as stingy as charity must be the man who does not open his purse strings on this joyous first of January. Be his circle of acquaintance ever so small, he cannot pass round it without the aid of his generosity. Presents are made to everybody to-day. Presents to mothers, to fathers, to sisters, to brothers, to wives, to daughters, to sons, to cousins, to uncles, to aunts, to nieces, to sweethearts, to mere friends and acquaintances. Ladies and children come in, of course, for the lion's share. If you are on intimate terms with a family, not only the younger members of that family, but their mammas also, expect new year's gifts, or étrennes as they are called. The cost you will be put to, for these presents, is no trifle. A young man of but moderate means, and with but a moderate number of friends, rarely spends less than a hundred francs four pounds sterling upon his étrennes. People whose means are more ample, will disburse ten times that sum. The amount spent every year in Paris on the Jour de l’An for toys alone, is estimated at one hundred and eighty thousand pounds sterling! The étrennes of the superior shops are, as a rule, of the most expensive kind. A box of sweetmeats seems a very simple affair, and so it is when the box is mere deal, and the sweetmeats homely caraway comfits. But this simplicity would not suit Parisian taste. The bonbons of the Jour de l'An are of the most luscious kind; the boxes, elaborately worked and adorned, are of papier-maché, mother of pearl, or carved wood. I have seen them as high as twelve hundred francs -- forty-eight pounds sterling and there are some even dearer. Very pretty presents these, as it seems to me, for New Year's Day. People generally give away these étrennes, or humbler ones of a similar kind, with a cheerful spirit and a smiling face. This is only natural. Friends whom we esteem, and relatives whom we love, have the key of our hearts; and that key, as is well known, unlocks our money-chest. But there are other people who in no way enter into our sympathies, to whom we are as it were compelled to give, and to them we extend our generosity with miserly reluctance.

I have said that the Jour de l'An is the Christmas Day of France. It is the day after as well. A host of persons, who have no more right to ask alms of you than they have to stop you on the highway, assail you now with demands for unearnt money. The weak-voiced, feeble-smiling Auvergnat, who brings you water every morning in pails, after the manner of the middle ages, (such extraordinary inventions as Water Companies and New Rivers not yet having penetrated into the most civilised capital in the world,) is perhaps at the head of this black band. Then comes the charbonnier, who supplies you with wood and coal; the man who brings you your paper in the morning; the servant whom you regularly pay every month for serving you; the blanchisseuse who washes your linen; the concierge who peeps into your letters, and otherwise renders you important aid; the butcher boy who brings you meat; the baker boy who brings you bread; the grocer's boy who brings you grocery. Your entire morning is spent in responding to the pitiful demands of these people. If only sixty or seventy francs also are spent, you may think yourself lucky. In no place are you safe from the banditti of the Jour de l’An. Exhausted, perhaps, by the voluntary acts of generosity which have been wrung from you during the morning, you take refuge in your restaurant, and order a déjeúner. The garҫon smiles upon you as you enter, he smiles upon you as you sit down, he smiles upon you when you have finished your meal. Nay, so amiable has he become, that he brings you, unasked, an orange, which he, still smiling, trusts you will accept. That orange costs you a five franc piece. Your digestion being thus disarranged, you make the best of your way to the café, and take a petit verre, or a little black coffee, exactly of course as you would take a blue pill or a dose of quinine. But here too you meet with a smiling garҫon, who obligingly offers you a cigar tied up with a piece of red ribbon. Your hand is again in your pocket. For cigars cost as much as oranges to-day. As a last resource you fly to your reading-room, hoping to wrap yourself up in a journal, and thus remain concealed. But the surly attendant, who for a whole year has made you wait until six o'clock for the evening papers, and who has always told you that the "Débats" is engaged three deep, at once spies you out, and with a smile even upon his face wishes you all sorts of compliments upon this most auspicious day. You get rid of him with a heavy groan and a gratuity by no means light, and wander forth into the streets, striving to forget your indignation by mingling with the happy groups you see there. You are really forced to give in every direction to-day. If you are not on sufficiently intimate terms with a friend to make him a more expensive present, you send him your card. You leave it at his residence with your own hands, supposing your politeness be strong enough to support you through this act of pedestrianism, and turn down one of its ends to indicate that you have been your own messenger. But if your legs refuse their office, the postman's will be more obliging. To those you can make appeal. There is, in fact, a special postal regulation respecting cards sent through the post-office on the Jour de l’An. If they are enclosed in an open envelope they will be delivered in Paris for five centimes instead of ten, the usual price of a single letter. The number sent in this manner is consequently enormous. The unhappy postman, as may be believed, has no holiday on New Year's Day. Almost from early dawn he is abroad heavily laden with his pack, his pack of cards. How gladly would he let some one else deal them for him this day! We will take one more look at the city ere the day wanes and the early night comes on. It will not be a gloomy night, rest certain; café, cabaret, and restaurant will be filled with a merry company; the shops, even after midnight chimes have sounded, will still be brilliant and bustling as the last labours of the day draw to a close; the pavement will still echo with the tread of many footsteps. And now, while yet an hour or two of lingering light remains, how look the streets? They are still filled with the same crowd that occupied them at noon; the same, except that it is a trifle less numerous. It is even gayer, however, than before. All care, in fact, seems to have fled from Paris to-day. There are no more pouting children; no more frowning wives; no more grumbling husbands; no more melancholy bachelors. Cheerfulness and content sit on every face. Look! the halt, the lame, the blind, and the simply indigent have been allowed to come forth into the streets without let or hinderance, without police interference or restriction, to draw upon the stores of kindly feeling which everywhere abound in Paris to-day. Ordinarily only a certain number of these poor sufferers, duly registered and ticketed, are allowed to appeal for charity on the public way, for even beggary in Paris is a monopoly. To-day, however, the trade is free. Indoors, as well as out of doors, there are gaiety and happiness in Paris. There is a public reception at the Tuileries, and all sorts of étrennes in the shape of honours and promotions will be given to numerous functionaries. There is a private reception in every household. Friends and relatives visit each other who, perhaps, have been separated by distance or social position all the previous year. They would not miss the warm embrace, and the loving words, of the Jour de l’An, for all the good or evil fortunes that might happen during the next twelve months. There will be many a gay party to-night, when the visits of the morning are over and the last present has been made. Many an old dame will forget her years as she looks upon the happy group of sons and grandsons clustering round her. Back to the days so distant, but which seem so near, will she turn once again; back to the days when, light of foot as of heart, she danced 'mid a merry circle, gayest of the gay. Ah! when others dance now, she sits all alone in her chair. But how time changes us! If old age is happy, how much more happy is youth! Look at that glad band of little ones! How proudly they display the beautiful gifts they have received! How they pet and hug the new doll or the new gun which has been given to them! Neither doll nor gun will be safe to-night except beneath their pillows, depend upon it. How lovingly they prattle and play! What fine games they have at colin-maillard, main-chaude, and pigeon vole! And even when sleep has fallen heavily upon their eyes they will still be happy. While yet the fond mother held them so securely in her arms, as they sank into slumber, they had wandered far away far away to scenes where even her watchful love cannot follow them. What would you or I give, oh reader, to have such dreams as they will have to-night? But midnight has sounded. The happy day is over. We must wait another year for another Jour de l’An. Another year! What a sad and a gloomy time we shall pass, perhaps, ere we have crossed the limits of this upon which we have just entered. Courage, courage, faint heart! A day like this will shed its radiance far in advance, and light us over the uncertain road we have to traverse.

New Year’s in Antarctica 1911-1912.

Extracts from: The Journal of Captain Robert Falcon Scott, Royal Navy, as he attempted to reach the South Pole in 1910-1912.

Note: During this venture, Scott led a party of five which reached the South Pole on 17 January 1912, only to find that they had been preceded by Roald Amundsen's Norwegian expedition. On their return journey, Scott and his four comrades all perished from a combination of exhaustion, starvation and extreme cold. 31 December, 1911 New Year's Eve Camp 53 The second party deposited its ski and some other weights equivalent to 100 lbs. I sent them off first; they marched, but not fast. We have been rising all day. We had a good full brew of tea and then set to work stripping the sledges. That didn't take long, but the process of building up the 10-feet sledges now in operation in the other tent is a long job. Evans PO and Crean are tackling it, and it is a very remarkable piece of work. Certainly PO Evans is the most invaluable asset to our party. To build a sledge under these conditions is a fact for special record. We will put a depot here and call it the 3 Degree Depot, since we are so close to the 87th parallel. There is extraordinarily little mirage up here and the refraction is very small. Except for the four seamen we are all sitting in a double tent—the first time we have put up the inner lining to the tent; it seems to make us much snugger.

10pm. The job of rebuilding is taking longer than I expected but now it is almost done. The 10-feet sledges look very handy. We had an extra drink of tea and are now turned into our bags in the double tent (five of us) as warm as toast, and just enough light to write or work with. Evans couldn't say what took them so long, and was acting very gingerly with his hand. Very curious. 1st January, 1912 New Year's Day Camp 54

Roused hands at 7:30 and got away at 9:30. Evan's party going ahead on foot. We followed on ski. We stupidly had not seen to our ski shoes beforehand, and it took a good half-hour to get them right. Wilson especially had trouble. When we did get away, to our surprise the sledge pulled very easily, and we made fine progress, rapidly gaining on the foot-haulers. We have scarcely exerted ourselves all day. We are very comfortable in our double tent. Stick of chocolate to celebrate the new year. The supporting party not in very high spirits, they have not managed matters well for themselves. Prospects seem to get brighter -- only 170 miles to go and plenty of food left.

Justifying Christmas Celebrations in 1648

Extracted from: The Vindication of the Solemnity of the Nativity of Christ Showing the grounds upon which the Observation of that and other Festivals is justified in the Church. With a short Answer to certaine Quaeries propounded by one Joseph Heming, in opposiiton to the aforesayd practice of the Church. By Thomas Warmstry, D.D. Printed in the Yeare 1648. Let us follow after things that make for peace, and things wherewith we may edifie one another. Rom. 14.19 Unto you is born this day a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. Luk. 1.11.

------- Transcribers Note: This tract was published in 1648, during the English Civil Wars. The text was transcribed from a print of a microfiche. The original was somewhat difficult to read in some places. Where I am not able to make a good guess of a word or phrase, I will insert “[?];” this is especially the case when transcribing Latin. If any reader has access to a better copy, and may offer corrections, please email me. Grammar and spelling are unchanged. -----------

The Vindication of the Solemnity of the Nativity of Christ, &c Before I come to answer these Queries, that I may make way for the clearing of mens judgements, I shall briefly lay down the grounds upon which the observation of this, and other Festivalls is justified in the Church; which are these. First, It is a thing not onely lawfull, but justly due unto God, that he should be praised publickly and solemnely for this, and other such like great blessings as he hath bestowed upon the Church by Christ, and that to this end the memory of them should be preserved in the Church. Secondly, That for these ends, the Observation of a yearly day of memoriall is a meanes conducible in it selfe, and approved by God in Scripture, who made use thereof among the ancient people to summon and stirre them up thereby to the praise of God for those great blessings and deliverances which were bestowed upon them. Thirdly, That the appoyntment of such dayes being conducible to those ends before named, which are Scripture ends, hath so far its ground in the word of God. Fourthly, That the Church hath a power from God to promote those ends which are commanded in his word, by all kinds of meanes which are not contrary thereunto, and such a meanes is this appointment of days, which hath been with approbation practiced by the Church, even in the time of the Jewish Bondage, in the designation and ordaining of Festivalls yearely to be observed, which were not enjoyned by any expresse command of God, as is clearly to be seene in the institution of the Feast of Purim, Esther. 9. 17. &c. and of the Feast of Dedication, Machab. 4.59 honoured and confirmed by the presence of our Saviour, Job. 10.22.23. Fifthly, That this power in the Church is, thoughly onobservedly, yet in cleare consequence, is confirmed by divers arguments from the allowance and practice of Adversaries themselves. As first, looke what power private Ministers challenge, that they must much more allow the Church: But they challenge a power to appoynt times for publick worship, which are not expresly commanded by God as upon Lecture dayes: Ego, And there can be no reason why they should have more power to appoynt an houre or more in a day, then the Church a day or more in a yeare. Secondly, There is as good reason that the Church should appoynt days of feasting, which are not commanded by God, as dayes of fasting, which are not commanded by God; since the end of the former is as exceptable to God, and more excellent then the latter, and hath no please against it, that lyes not equally against the latter. Thirdly, That there is much more reason that the Church should appoynt solemne dayes for praising God for Christ, and for spirituall blessings, then for temporall ones: But the latter is allowed and practiced by the Parliament, as may appeare by the late Ordinance for the observation of the fifth of November, in memoriall of the deliverance of that very State, Church, and Religion from an outward descruction, which themselves now persecue; by the Army, in appoynting dyes of Thanksgiving for their bloody Victories over their brethren, in an impious way. Therefore the former, viz the appoyntment of solemn dayes for greater and spirituall blessings, cannot reasonably be condemned by them. Sixtly, This appoyntment of dayes to the purposes aforesayd, is not one [?], as not lying in oposicion to any Law of God, but of excellent use and benefit to Gods people. 1. To preserve and refresh the memory of these great blessings. 2. To [?] up the people to the duties of praise. 3. To call upon the Ministers in their severall charges to study, and handle those great, and necessary parts of Christian knowledge. 4. To give so many opportunities for the assembling of the people to holy duties. 5. For the rendring of those great and mysticall blessings familiar unto the people, thereby that being fulfilled in this sense, that the Psalmist speaketh in the 9. Psal. One day telleth another, and one night certifieth another; there is neither speech nor language, yet their speeches are heard among them. Thusit comes to passe that the Calendar of the Church, & the Cycle of the Festivalls presents, in as it were an easie and familiar Catechisme unto the people, and doth instruct them almost whether they wil or no in the apprehensions of those high points and comfortable motions of the conception, nativity, Circumcision, Manifestation to the Gentiles, presentation in the Temple, of the death and passion, resurrection, Ascention of Christ into Heaven, and of the sending of the holy Ghost, to bring home the fruit of all; which are as so many parts of the holy Antheme of the Church, the Epiphonema, or clase of all which is in the Festival of the Trinity, which is unto all the rest as the Glory be to the Father, to the Sonne, and to the holy Ghost &c. at the close of a Psalme, calling upon us to give honour and praise unto the Trinity for all those incomprehensible blessings and benefits whereby the worke of mans redemption is perfected and brought home unto us: This wisedome and piety of the Church is not understood, nor considered by those heady and haire brain'd people, that waigh things in the corrupt scales of [?] their owne contradictory and antecclesiasticall spirit; but they that are sober and peaceable discover and admire it, and blesse God for it, and do foresee with sad hearts the designes of Satan moving against this Church of ours, by the abolishing of these and other usefull Ordinances and customes, to blot out by degrees the memory of the great and inestimable blessings of God in Christ, and to open the doore to prophanesse and infidelty: to the former benefits may be added, the mercy that doth hereby accrue unto servants, and the poore beasts in a relaxation of their labours upon such daies, the incitements that they administer unto workes of charity, neighbourhood, and hospitality; things very pleasing in the sight of God, howsoever disliked by those of this age that place religion in cruelty, Faction, and Sedition; and the nurcery, and supply that is thereby suggested unto the exercise of our spirituall joy, and delight in God, and his goodnesse. Lastly, The authority of the Church both ancient and modern, both generall, and of this particular Church, coming upon us with all these warrants, and conveniences to serve the ends of God and Scripture, and strengthened by the power of the civil Magistrate, and by the authenticall Lawes of the Kingdome in those Acts of Parliament which have establisht these things, must either engage all that are within the verge of the Church, and of this Church and State especially, unto a peaceable and piroud obedience thereunto, or else leave the staine of Impiety, Faction, and of a turbulent and disorderly spirit, or else of folly and blindnesse upon all those that oppose it. Indeed there is nothing free from temptations; but it is well said of one, as I remember, and may be well considered of others, that it is not (at least not alwaie) the infirmity, but the excellency of things that maketh them the matter of temptation: Abuses of things that are good must teach us wisedome and caution, but not set us upon confusion. And truly there is need of more warines in the observation of these daies then hath been used by many. 1. That superstitió be avoided, that we thing not one day in it self better or more holy then another, but only so far as they are actually designed or applied unto the service of God: we must remember that these and other particular times, as places, are but circumstances in the time of the Gospell, the substance is in the worship and service that is given unto God thereupon, not in the observation of these or that particular day, which is in it selfe a matter of liberty, as the Apostle sheweth, Rom. 14.5 &c. Col. 2.16. And that may be a satisfactory reason why in the new Testament these things are not particularly, or expressly injoined in Scripture, because these are but matters of Order, and of liberty; not of absolute necessity, and therefore left to the moderation of the Church; but then we must remember that the liberty of Christians is first the right and interest of the Body, and then of the Members, who must not urge their particular interest against publique moderations and constitutions in these things; yes, it is a maine liberty that belongs unto the whole body of the Church, that she hath power to restraine the liberty of private Members by publique authority for the publique good; but Superstition must be avoided, as I have said; noe humane authority must impose these, or any such like things, as substantiall, unalterable, or absolutely necessary to salvation; but as matters of Order, as holy circumstances, and meanes conducible unto higher ends, and so and no otherwise they are to be received and obeyed by the people: according to this is that of the later learned Father of our Church, Non putandum plus sanctitatis uni disiinesse quam alteri, sed sciendum quod propter ordinem & praceptum Ecclesie alias[?] causas Jupra memoratas une die magis quam alio convenimus, ad hac exercitim sanctitatis. And againe, Non putandum, &c. we are not to thinke that they Church of God is tyed by any necessity to the immutable observation of these particular festivall daies: Sed statuendum, saith be, dies bosce humana authoritate constitutes cademposse tolli & mutari, fintilitas [?] & necessitas Ecclesie id postulaveris, nam omnisresper quascung: Causas nascitur per casdem diss[?]lvitur; But it must be so judged, that these daies which are appointed by humane authority may be abolished, and altered by the same: where the profit and necessity of the Church doth require it; for all things are dissolved by the same causes whereby they are established: But then this ought to be done upon good and true grounds, and by a power equall at least to that that hath established them. [Editor's Note: printed in the margin, near the top of this paragraph is the following text: “Bishop Davenaus upon the Coloss.c. 2.v.16.”] 2. There must be care taken that there be a prudent moderation used in the number of such daies, that nothing be imposed over burdensome upon the people. 3. That they be rightly imployed, not in Superstitious worshiping of Saints or Angels, as is in use in the Church of Rome, nor yet in riot, intemperance, or any other sinfull libety, as hath been the practise of too many amongst us, making little or not other use of such times, but to give themselves to idlenesse, loosenesse, and vanity; an evil that hath not onely violated the holinesse of these Festivals we speak of, but also the Lords day, which some have turned into Sabbathum Vituli aurie, into the Sabbath of the Golden Calfe, of which it is said, Exod. 32. That The people sate downe to eate and drinke, and rose up to play. Others into Sabbathum B[????] & Asinorum, the Sabbath of the Oxe and the Asse, spending it in calling and drinking, and doing nothing; and too many make little or no difference betweene that and other dayes: But onely in putting on their better cloathes, and giving themselves to none, or else worse imployment then all the rest of the weeke, as if bene vestiri & nibil agere, To be well attired, and to doe nothing were to celebrate the Christian Sabbath. And indeed it cannot be denied, but as this hath been the ill lot that too many have cast upon the Lords day, and other Festivalls: So it hath been too too much the share of the Solemnities appoynted for the celebrating of the Birth of the Saviour, and the rest of the Festivalls that the Church hath joyned with in, which instead of being made dayes of prayse and thanksgiving to God, and of the exercise of other holy, christian, and charitable duties with that sobriety that becomes Christians, have been made dayes of riot, and gaming, and wantonnesse, and unlawful liberty, as if men were to sacrifice to the Devill for these great and incomprehensible mercies of God: A great and intollerable abuse of such blessed opportunities, and such as, (although it doth not at al justifie men in the abolition of them, but should rather have set them upon the Reformation of those miscarriages, and the restitution of such times unto the first and profitable institution of them, That these evils and corruptions being removed, the divine Solemnities, and Religious Duties might have been returned and advanced still amongst us, to the comfort of the Church, and the honour of the name of God) Yet they may justly provoke God to deprive us of the comfort of these joyfull Celebrities, which wee have so miserably abused to his dishonour, and the hurt of our selves, and of our brethren: But these being the errours of particular men, they do not blemish the constitution of the Church in these things, which intendeth not such times for such evill purposes, but for the service and honour of god, and the edification of his people. And therefore as it must be the care of all good Christians to seperate the abuses into practice. So it is their part and duty to yeeld a ready obedience unto so profitable and wholesome a constitution; and as in other Festivalls, so in this of the Nativity of Christ, &c. This being as it were the rising of the Sunne of righteousnesse upon us with healing in his wings, and that whereon all the succedent worke of our redemption and salvation doth depend: And therefore as this doth in an eminent and speciall manner chalenge our praises and solemne services and acknowledgments unto God for so great a mercy: So the Authority of the Church in appoynting a solemne time, for such solemne service doth serve an holy and Scripture end, very acceptable to God, and by such a meanes, which he himselfe hath approved, and allowed the Church of God to make use of, and doth justly require our obedience thereunto which wee cannot withdraw ordinarily, without making a breach in that Communion of Saints, which is both our comfort to enjoy, and our duty to maintaine. And these grounds being thus layd, and well understood, I hope may satisfie any peaceable minded Christians, and arme them against all materiall temptations that your Queries (which you seeme to thinke such Giants) can offer against it; and therefore I might well enough perhaps set a period heere unto this present businesse: But lest you should thinke your selfe despised, or grow wise in your owne conceipt, and for your further correction, and the more full satisfaction of others, I offer you and them this short answer unto your Queries; and if you or any other shall thinke them in any thing wanting in that clearenesse which yours, and some other mens apprehensions may perhaps require; I shall by Gods grace be ready if I may be allowed liberty to doe it: To render all things out of question and to resolve all doubts that may rest behinde in a faire, calme, and Christian disputation, and discussion of the point with your or any other that shall in a sober and ingenuous way desire to enter into discourse with me thereabout. In the meane time take this briefe Reply unto your Demands. To your first Quære. Whether such religious customs as are binding to all the Churches of Jesus Christ, out not to have sure footing upon the Word of God or Apostolicall practice? Answer, That it is ground enough for the establishment of Customes in the Church, and to bind all Churches to the Christian observation thereof, so far as is required unto Church Customes, and matters of order. &c. That such Customs and Observations beingin themselves harmelesse, and conducible to those ends which Gods word preseribeth, are commanded unto us by the Authority of the Church Catholic; and because this Quære is somewhat too wide for the particular drift you aime at; give me leave to take away all doubt, to contract it a little by adding this Corolary: That in such things the Authority of any particular Church is sufficient to binde those that are within the Verge of it. The Examples of the Feast of Purim and of Dedication before mentioned will come in seasonably heere for the confirmation of this. To your second Quære. Whether you can substantially prove that Christe was borne on the 25 of December? And what your proofes are? Answer. That because as wee have layd downe the designation of this or that particular is a thing in it selfe indifferent (though the day being knowne wherein such mercies were performed may seeme more convenient then another.) The maine thing that wee rest upon being this: That God may be solemnely praised for so great a mercy, and to this end, that that day what ever it be, which is set apart by the Church for that holy purpose be duely observed: Therefore although there is perhaps more to be sayd heerin then you are aware of; yet to make short worke, and that they may be the easilier satisfied, who are not able to examine Antiquities: I answer that it is not at all necessary for us to prove substantially that Christ was borne upon the 25 of December; it is sufficient for us that the Authority of the Church hath appoynted that day to performe the duty of praise therefore unto God, neither doe wee so much depend upon that day, but if upon good reson an equall Authority had designed any other, it might be indifferent to us: To that God may have his honour in the solemnization of his great mercies, whether in this moneth, or that moneth, on this day, or that day, is of small concernment, but in poynt of order, peace, uniformity, and obedience; to dote upon this or that day otherwise is superstitious. To your third Quære. Whether the celebration of that day (grant he was borne on it) can be clearely warranted by you from Scripture? And what your Scriptures are? Answer, It is answered already in the Reply made to the two former, where you have been shewed, that it is neither necessary to be proved that Christ was borne upon that day, nor yet that there needes any particular Scripture warrant for the observation of such days, more then is expressed in the answer to the first, and the grounds that are layd before you, and so much hath been shewed wee have abundantly for this day. Viz. That the Church hath power to appoynt a day for so holy and excellent an end prescribed in Scripture, and warranted unto us by the practice of a Quire of Angells, of Simeon and Anna, Zachary and Eitzabeth, in the Divine Story. To your fourth Quære. Whether you can cleare it by sound consequence from the New Testament, though not set down there in toridem verbis? Answer, That which hath been sayd may suffice, in that the celebration of this day is appoynted by sufficient Authority, for those ends which are commanded in the New Testament, as is the rendring praise to God for so great a blessing of the New Testament, and is a meanes allowed by God for such purpose, and conducible thereunto, as hath been shewed in the grounds. To your fifth Quære. Whether you can doe it by universall tradition? Answer, That it is well knowne that the observation of this day hath been very Ancient, and doth appeare to be of universall reception; as (if leasure and opportunity would permit) might be manifested more abundantly, but for the present it may suffice to set down that notable testimony of St. Cyprian, a very Ancient Father, in his book de Nativitate Christs in initio. Adest (saith he, speaking of this Festivall of the Nativity of Christe) Christi inultum [?] de siderasa & diu[?] expectata Nativitas, adest Solemnit as inclita & in presentia salvatoris, grates, & laudes, Visitateri suo per orbem terrarum Sancta reddit Ecclesia. There is not present the much desired, and long expected Nativity of Christ; now is present that famous Solemnity or Festivall and the holy Church throughout all the World doth render thankes and praises to her visiter in the presence of our Saviour; and though it be sufficient to binde us; that so wholesome custome is enjoyned by Authenticall Authority in this Church and Nation, yet this and other testimonies that might be brought of the Antiquity and universality thereof, doe much strengthen the obligation that lies upon us, for the Religious observation thereof. To your sixt Quære. Whether (in case it can be evidenced by none of these, viz plaine Text, solled [?] Inference, universall Tradition) it be not a meere humane invention, and so Will worship? And how you will one day acquit yourselves before God, for placing, and crying up mens Inventions, instead of the institutions of Jesus Christ? And whether it were not faithfull dealing with poore simple people to tel them that you have neither of these to warrant it? I answer, it is already avoyded, and needeth no further Reply but this, first, that you have been taught if you can learne that wee have inference enough to satisfie men that will be content with evidence, and wish you would attempt nothing in the church, but what you could pleade half so much for: Secondly, that the observation of these particular dayes is not enjoyned by the Church, or used by us, as any substantiall part of worship, but as a circumstance of worship, and so can be no will-worship, no more then your appoynting this or that particular houre for preaching, and prayer upon a Lecture day, or the appoynting of dayes of thaniksgiving for Victories, for temporall deliverances, or of Publique Fasts by humane Authority (which as to the designation of the particular times are unquestionably of humane invention) and therefore to be accounted will-worship;p unless you will have the will-worship to lye in this; that these dayes we speak off are appoynted by good and full Authority, and that Christ is remembred therein; and now I intreate you to consider how you will one day acquit your selfe before God, for slandering and crying downe the wholesome orders and constitutions of the Church, to bring in division, confusion, and prophanation; and whether it were not faithfull in dealing with those poore simple people, that you or others have seduced into seditious and facious courses, and murmuring against Government and Order, to tell them you understood not things your selves, nor have taught them in the wayes of peace and righteousnesse, as you shoulde have done. To your seaventh Quære. (Since dayes and times commanded by God himselfe to be observed uner the Law, were, and are unlawfull under the Gospel) Whether dayes and times commanded by men, and not by God, under the Gospell, are not lesse lawfull. Ans. Those daies and times that were commanded by God himselfe to be observed under the Law, were appointed by him for that time, as types and figures of the things of Christ, as Saint Paul well instruct you. Coloss. 2.16.17, and in regard of that typicall use, and will the Legall necessity thereof are vanished at the coming of Christ, which is the body and substance of those shaddowes; and therefore though they be so far become unlawfull, it will by no meanes infer that therefore those daies and times which are commanded by men with sufficient warrant from God under the Gospell as conducible meanes unto Gospell-ends, and for the solemnizing of the glory of God for Gospell blessings, should be concluded unlawfull, since the aforesaid reason of the abolition of those things of the Law, is no way applicable unto the Festivals, or other wholsome constitutions in the time of the Gospell, which are neither injoyned as types, nor as things necessary to salvation, but as matters of order, and circumstantiall meanes for the promotion of those substantiall duties, not opposing, but asserting and magnifying the great blessings that God hath revealed, and imparted unto us in, and by, the Messias now come. But for your further instruction, I desire you to take notice, that in the Feasts of the Jewes, as there was something Ceremoniall, so there was Something Morrall: that they were of unalterable necessity restrained to such and such particular times, that they were to be celebrated with such and such particular Ceremonies, and were therein types and figures of the things of Christ, and the time of the Gospell and that by the indispencible obligation of the divine præcept; in these and such like considerations, they were Ceremoniall and temporary, belonging unto that Sate of the Jewish Church; But if they be considered as they were certaine solemn and convenient times set apart for the publique worship of God, and for the more solemne testification of their thankfullnesse unto him, for those great blessings and deliverances that they received from him; This was, as a learned Authour tell us, morale, & natureale, & cumcateris omnibus gentibus commane, it was morall and naturall, and common with them unto other nations. Now though that which is typicall and ceremoniall be abolished as a shadow by the coming of the substance. Yet that which is morall and naturall remayneth; it is still not only lawfull, but pious for the Jewes to set apart some times to prayse God for their deliverance out of Ægypt, and for those other blessings which that Church received from him, so that the typicall and properly legall use, together with the indispensable necessity of those particular times and ceremonies be cast away, it were no impiety in them, as matters of order, to make use of some or more of the same times which they formerly observed for this morall purpose. Yea we find St. Paul Acts 18:21, and 20.16 resolving and indeavouring to keepe one of those Jewish feasts at Jerusalem, long after the ascension of Christ, and the absolition of the ceremoniall part of the Jewish Law, and to take advantage of that solemnity to glorifie God amongst them. And if all this will not save you from a wonder, I intreat you to consider that the effect of the abolition of the Ceremoniall Law, was the taking away of the legall necessity and the typicall use of them, not the rendering of the matter of those Ceremonies unlawfull; and for your better satisfaction in this point, I refer you to a Treatise of mine lately set forth called, The sights of the Church and Common Wealth of England, pag. 312, 313, &c. where I hope you will find this matter abundantly cleared. And now the foundation of your seventh Quære being thus searched and found to be of so sandy a constitution, we need not trouble ourselves any more about the Quære it selfe: but to tell you in the words of a Reverend Divine, Quicquid nonnussi contra afferre solent pic & prudenter prospectus ost [?] ab Antiquis patribus, ut anniversarie in Ecclesia celebrarentur [?] ingeatis [?] illa beneficia incarnationis filli Dei, passe[?] is, resurrectionis, ascensionis, [?]issionis Spiritus Sancti, quorum [?][?][?][?][?] memoriam solemnitatibus constitutis consecranous, ne volumnine temporum ingratasurreperet nobis oblivie, ut loquitur Aug. de Civit. Dei. Lib. 10.c.4. Whatsoever some are wont to bring to the contrary, it was piously and prudently provided of the ancient Fathers, that there should be anniversary or yearly celebrations of those great benefits, of the incarnation of the Sonne of God, of his passion, resurrection, ascension, and of the sending of the Holy Ghost; the memorialls of all which, we consecrate by appointed solemnities, left, as St. Aug. speaketh, by the course of the times an unthankfull fortgetfullnes thereof should steale upon us. And the same learned Authour will shew you that we are invited heerunto by the obligation of gratitude that we owe unto God, as publique benefits are to be publiquely acknowledged, and to be celebrated with publique thanksgiving: which cannot commodiously be done, unlesse they that have the rule of the Church and Commonwealth, doe appoint set dayes for the people to come together to that purpose. Joel. 2.15. That we are incouraged heereunto by the peoples benefit which they may reape heereby in being upon such occasions made acquainted with the chiefe mysteries of salvation, which whether they shall be instructed in, or no, is a matter of too great concernment, to be left to the discretion of every private Minister; and therefore the Church hath thought fit to call upon them for it by these Festivals. And I pray God the attempts of the abolution of these memorialls, be not the drifts of some secret plot of Sathan, to make way for the stealing of Christianity out of this Nation: if we consider the motions of some other engines of his, together with this in these times, I doubt wee may find but too much cause to suspect it, and cause enough for all good people to desire to prevent it, by being unwilling to part with any the least lawfull meanes, that may serve to keep up the memory and impressions of Christ, and his wonderfull mercies in our hearts. He will shew you also, as I have done, how this practise is confirmed unto us by the examples of the godly people in the Scripture, who have appointed set and yearly dayes for such purposes, besides those that were commanded expresly and particularly by God himselfe. And I can adde that the same is yet further confirmed unto us, by the judgment and practice of holy men in the Christian Church, not only of the Ancients, but of many famous moderne Protestant Divines. As Melancthon, Hemingius, Scultetus, &c., all which being put into the same scale with the Authority of the Church of England, and the Law, which hath yet found no Authority equall unto it, to dissolve the Acts thereof in this kinde, will I doubt not weigh downe all the seeming reasons or divinity upon which you have grounded your Quæries. To your eighty Quære. Whether the true and genuine Interpretation of Christmas be Christ man? And whether to perswade people 'tis so, be not to abuse and delude them? And whether we may not as well interpret Candlemass Candleman, Michaelmas Michaelman, as Christmas Christman? Answer, That this is a question so childish or so vaine importance, and so of no concernement at all to the businesse propounded: That I might be excused if I should say no more, but either to wish you more wisdome and sobriety in the things of God and his Church, or if you know any that is guilty of making so foolish a descant upon that name of Christmas as your Quære presents, to leave you to him for a Reply; neither the Church of England nor I are bound to justifie the follies of particular men: But least your insinuated quarrell at the name of Christmas, should meete with any such weake judgements, as to produce any scruple (premising this, that these are things that neither the Church of England, nor I conceive any discreet childe thereof will stand upon any further then they serve to make us understand one another, and I wish all quarrels about names were so at an end amongst us) I say yet further, that the interpretation of learned Bishop Andrewes might have beene better thought on by you, then that fond one you have mentioned, reducing Christmas to Christimissa, and taking missa for missio; so that it may present the importance of the Feast. Viz. The sending of Christ into the world, or if this be liable to some exception; yet it cannot be denied but the word Masse, however it hath been corrupted in latter times, is from missa, and I believe your may finde that the word missa hath been of some use in the Church, and derived from a good and laudable custome of dismissing the Catechumeni before the Communion in the Primitive times, and may import as much s the Office, or Communion of the faithfull, and then Crist-masse may found as much as the Office or Communion of the faithfull upon Christs day, or in the praise of Christ, or in memoriall of him; or if you are loath to admit of this in justification of the word missa, I intreat you yet to allow thus much: That however evill the word is in the use of the Church of Rome, yet since you know it hath no such evill importance in the sense of the Church of England (and it is not unlawfull to reforme the abuse of words as well as things) thee can be no harme in the use of that title for distinction, no more then it was for St. Luke in the 17 of the Acts v. 22 to comply so far with custome as to call the street in Athens by the name of Mars his street, although Mars were an Heathen Idol, or to call Dionysius by the title of the Areopagite v. 34. I advise you therefore to take the Counsell of St Paul hereafter, for your owne goode and the quiet of others, and the Church, that instead of being such a one as he condemneth, 1 Tim. 6.4.5. sick of a spiritual sympathy, and [series of Greek words], doating or madding about questions and strife of words, whereof commeth envy, strife, railings, evill surmisings, froward disputations of men of corrupt mindes, and destitute of the truth; you would become such as he adviseth, 2. Tim. 14.23. That you strive not about words, which is to no profit, but to the perverting of the hearers; and that you would put away foolish and unlearned questions, knowing that they engender strife.

To your ninth Quære. Whether the Saints are bound to rejoyce in the Birth of Christ on that day men superstitiously call Christmas, more then a othertimes? And whether the Lords day be not (the) day appoynted for them to rejoyce on? Ans. Leaving your imputation that you lay of superstition upon the name of Christmas to the correction of that which hath been already sayd unto the Quære next before. I answer, that though Christians are bound at all times to rejoyce in the birth of Christ, which is sufficient to condemne the boldnesse of those that forbid men upon any time or day to do it by that rule of the Apostle, Philipp. 4.4. Rejoice in the Lord alway, and againe I say rejoyce; yet to helpe our infirmities, and to stir up our backwardnesse, and to make for the greater cheerfulnesse and solemnity of this joy, the Church hath done well and piously to appoint some speciall times to call us together to rejoyce in the great mercies of God, and in that regard it is more especially required of all her Children to do it at such times then at other times, and the fault is the greater to omit it then, in as much as to the neglect of the universall duty is added the sinne of disobedience against the wholesome orders of the Church, and a division therein of our selves from the Body, and a denyall of that concurrence and assistance that wee ought to give in the communion and fellowship of Gods people in those things which are publickly performed for the celebration of the praise and worship of God, and for the advancement of divine comforts in the Congregations. And though it be true that the Lords day is a day wherein they ought to rejoyce, which yet as to the particular day, is but a holy circumstance, and a matter of order, though established by great Authority, notwithstanding it is not (the) day in such a sence, as your parenthesis would perhaps insinuate, as to exclude all other dayes from the businesse of solemne rejoycing in Gods mercies; for how then will the fifth of November, and the dayes of Thanksgiving, that have beene of late appoynted, be justified? and therefore your question makes nothing against our conclusion; for though that day be to be observed for a day of joy in God, it does not forbid others to be so employed. To your tenth Quære. Whether Christmas day ought in any respect to be esteemed above another of the Weeke dayes? And whether people may not without offence to God follow their lawfull vocations on that day? Answer. In it selfe no day is necessarily to be esteemed better then another; for as the Apostle tells us, he that esteemeth all dayes alike doth it to the Lord. But in the use of it, as a matter of order, and as it is dedicated by a lawfull power in the Church, in a more especiall manner then the rest, in respect of obedience, order, and compliance with those sacred ends for which they are so designed, Christmas day, and other Festivalls of the Church ought to be esteemed above another day: For it is the duty of Christians to comply with one another and to obey Authority in those things that are profitable and conducible to holy and good purposes: And therefore it will follow, that without necessity, for people to depart from this Rule, and to doe it with contempt of Authority, and to the discouragement and hinderance of such holy ends and duties, by following their ordinary vocations which are lawfull at other times, is a breach of good order, a violation of unity, an hinderance to piety, and the holy Solemnity of such times, as well as to doe it upon a day of Fasting or Humiliation, instituted by humane Authority: and cannot be so done without an offence to God. To your eleaventh Quære. Whether you thinke the Parliament and Assembly have erred and played the fooles in condemning and rasing [?] out Holy dayes now warranted in the Word? And whether to observe them, be not highly [?]od sl[?]ke and flatly to contradict (in poynt of practice at least) their proceedings in order to a Reformation? Answer. I doubt not to say that they have erred in divers respects: First, in making unnecessary changes in the Church, which ought not to be done, but upon urgent causes; but doth discover in them that doe it a love unto change, which the wise man condemneth, Prov. 24.21. and is ordinarily of evill consequence to the Church, as wee finde by too lamentable experience; for whilst the people like those that are sick of a Feaver have thought good mutationibus pro remedits uti, to take such charge for medicines, their remedies have proved their greatest diseases; and now wee see how sick they are grown of their Physicians, and how sick the Physicians are of their owne administrations: Secondly, they have erred in going about to abolish so harmlesse and usefull a meanes of the promoting of Gods glory, and of the edification of the people: Thirdly, inundertaking to dissolve so laudable customes, and so universally and anciently received, and established by full power of the State and Church, either without any Authority thereunto or by a power inferiour unto that, whereby they were constituted: Fourthly, in doing those things without any admission of those that are contrary minded to be heard, or any faire discussion or debate of those differences that are in mens judgements thereabout: and therefore their proceedings therein are, and may be justly disliked and contradicted both by declaration and practice, without lying open to any such charge as you mention of opposing proceedings in order to Reformation, properly so called; such undertakings with the rest that are like them, being rather in order to a deformation. But whether in this they have playd the fooles, or no, I leave that to you to determine. To your twelfth Quære. Whether (since most men and women in England doe blindely and superstitiously believe Christ was born that day) preaching on it, doth not nourish and strengthen them in that beliefe? Answ. Although it be admitted to be a matter of some uncertainty whether our Saviour was borne upon that day, or not, yet (it being not materiall unto the lawfulnesse and wholsomnesse of the observation of the solemnity, as hath beene declared) if it bee an error in the people to apprehend so, yet it is an harmlesse one, and without the danger of superstition, which yet Preaching upon that day doeth neyther necessarily nourish nor strengthen in them. I shall not deny but there hath beene some difference in Antiquity concerning the very day upon which Christe was borne; but Hospinian, who was no friend unto the Church in these things, confesseth, That from the most ancient times, it was celebrated on the 24. of December; which hee prooveth out of Theophylus, a very ancient Bishop of Cesarea Palestina, who lived about the time of Commodus and Severus the Emperours. The Arguments that are brought against the reception of this day, for the very day of our Saviours Birth, from the imposition of the Taxe of the Romane Emperour, and from the shepherds watching of their sheepe by night, are not at all concludent, but of weake importance, to overthrow so ancient and received an opinion in the Church: Though that time might be lesse convenient for people to travell into their owne Countries, as was required in that imposition of Augustus, yet it is no strange thing in Magistrates, and those both prudent and pious, to passe through such small and private inconveniences for the obtaining supplies of publique necessities; it would be a very weake argument, if any should heereafter undertake to prove this unhappy Parliament began not in November, because that Moneth is usually none of the best seasons to travell from the several parts of this Kingdome to London in. And though sheepe are tender creatures, yet that season is not of the same bitternesse in all Climates, and if I mistake not, as tender as they are, they are even in this Northerne and cold Climate folded sometimes without dores in the winter: if the difference about this point be such that no certaine resolution can bee found, it is lawfull for the Church to make choice of such a day for the purpose of this solemnity, as appears most convenient. And what day more convenient, then that which as it is confessed to have beene most anciently received, so is commended too by the universality of the practise and consent at least of all the Westerne Churches therein? and if God be served and praysed by us in such holy and solemne maner as is due for so great a mercy, upon that day which the Church hath injoyned, it will be, no doubt, as acceptable to God, as if it were done upon some other day of your choyce, whether it be the very day of Christs birth or no: and I hope you doe thinke it fit, that some day or other may bee imployed in so good a businesse. The onely question then will remaine, whether the Church and Magistrate, or you bee fitter to choose, which is not worth the discussing. To your thirteenth Quære. Whether this Feast had not its rise and growth from Christians conformity to the mad Feast Saturnalia (kept in December to Saturne the Father of Gods) in which there was a Sheafe offered to Ceres Goddess of Corne; a hymne in her praise called [Greek title]? And whether those Christians by name, to cloake it, did not afterwards call it Yule, and Christmas (as though it were for Christs honour?) And whether it be not yet by some (more ancient then truely or knowingly religious called Yule, and the mad playes (wherewith 'tis celebrated like those Saturnalia) Yule games? And whether from the offering of that Sheafe to Ceres; from that song in her praise; from those gifts the Heathens gave their friends in the Calends of January, omnis [?] gratia; did not arise or spring our blazes; Christmas Kariles, and New yeares gifts? Answ. That the originall and growth of so pious and holy a practice in the Christian Church, should be allowed no other root but a supposed confirmity of Christians to the madde feasts of Saturnalia, when there are so many better and clearer fountaines to derive this from, in the order that it hath unto Scripture end and duties, to Gospel and Christian performances, and in the warrant that it hath from Scripture examples in like matters, is an argument of some want of charity in those that goe about to infect men with such perswasions. Charity engageth us to judge the best even of the actions of private men, much more of the publike constitutions and observations of the Church; whatever abuses have beene brought in by wicked and loose men to corrupt and deprave these wholesome ordinances, (which we approve not nor will undertake to justifie) There is no confirmity nor compliance at all, betweene the holy aymes and intentions of the Church of God, in the appointment of this or other festivalls, and thte franticke, loose, and impious manage of the Saturnalia among the Heathens. These are appointed by the Church to bee dayes of piety and sobriety, of prayse unto God for his great mercies, of spiritual joy in his divine comforts and holy delights in our Christian societies, of hospitality and mutuall offices of Christian love one to another, which are the true and proper employments of holy festivalls, commended and warranted unto us by the word of God. If any practises have crpt in (as there have too many) to the depravation of these times, and disappointment of those ends for which they were instituted, by riot and loosenes, or such rude cariages and demeanours which may be too truly sorted with the Heathenish Saturnalia, they have been anciently reproved, as Hospinian will informe you by that which hee hath cited out of that famous Oration of Gregory Nazianzen upon the Nativity of Christ: And he will tell you a Sory too if you will beleeve it of one Otherus and some others to the number of 15. who being reproved by Rupertus A Priest for prophaning that night of our Lords Nativity, by light and lascivious dancing and singing, and required from him, ut ab hujnsmods la vitate in nocte tam sancta desisterent: That they would desist from such lenity in so holy a night, when they would not yeeld unto this wholesome advice, But persisted in the vaine exercises they were about, upon the prayer of Rupertus that they might continue dancing so all the yeare long, They did so continue night and day for the space of a whole yeare: and he cites Trithemius in chron. Hirsang. for the Author of this Story; which if it be true doth not at all the oppose, but confirme these constitutions of the Church, as the judgements of God sent upon those that are the prophaners of the Lords day, are brought to justisie the obsevation thereof; it doth indeede disallow the abuses thereof, which as they were anciently condemned, so wee condemne them still, being contrary as to the righteous commands of God, so to the wholesome institutions of the Church: I earnestly exhort all Christians carefully to avoyd all such courses and miscarriages, and to sanctifie this and other such like Festivalls unto God in holy and Christian duties as they ought, and the Church enjoynes, left they answer the contrary d[??]rely unto God, as well for the enormity of their virious carriages, as for the prophanation and scandall that they thereby bring upon these profitable Orders of the Church, and their sacrilegious robbing of God of such times which are consecrated to his Divine Worship, That they may employ them in the service of the Devill: But in the meane time I cannot but wonder at the strange dispensations of these times, wherein for ought appears, there is more strictness used against the preaching of the word of God, and holy exercises upon these dayes, then against any of the foresayd abuses and miscariages. Wee have heard of the persecution and imprisonment of Ministers for attempting to preach the Word of God, upon the festivall of Christs Nativity, and of strict and forcible prohibition thereof; but whether there hath beene halfe so much strictnesse against riot, or lightnesse, or vanity, at such times, let it be considered; and surely such dealing is no good character of a Reformation. They that do so, winnow not with Gods sieve, but the Divels, shaking out the wheat, and retayning the chaffe; they are no good Physicians, that purge out the good and wholesome humours, and leave those that are corrupt and distempered behind, nor is this the way to procure health unto the body. In the name of God if they meane to reforme, as they talke, let them distinguish betweene good and evill, betweene healthful and profitable institutions, and pernacious and abusive depravations, and let these be removed, and those established if it doth appeare that the time of this Festivall doth comply with the time of the Heathens Saturnalia, This leave no charge of impiety upon it; for since things are best cured by their contraries, it was both wisedome and piety in the ancient Christians, (whose work it was to convert the Heathens from such as well as other superstitions and miscarriages) To vindicate such times from that service of the Devill, by appoynting them to the more solemne and especiall service of God and to recall people from that practise of wickednesse by calling them unto the practise of true holinesse thereupon. As for that you adde about your Yule games, it is not materiall, after that which hath beene sayd, and therefore for brevity sake I passe it over. The Blazes are foolish and vaine, and not countenanced by the Church. Christmasse Kariles if they be such as are fit for the time, and of holy and sober composures, and used with Christian sobriety and piety, they are not unlawfull, and may be profitable, if they be sung with grace in the heart. New yeares gifts, if performed without superstition (and you must have ground ere you may charge them without it) may be harmless provocations to Christian love, and mutuall testimonies thereof to good purpose, and never the worse, because the Heathens hve them at the like times. The Heathens use to eate at noone, and so doe wee, if it be harmlesse to joyne with them in houres designed for acts of nature; why not in dayes designed by us for acts of love and mutual affection; if those dayes and their practice thereupon be tainted with superstition, it will not follow that ours must needs be so, or is it now lawful for us to employ those dayes well, because they doe ill? But this is no Religious but a Civill matter, and therefore not requisite to stand much upon it; no great matter whether that custome be held up or no, and yet there is no need in such times as these to discourage and forbid acts of love and mutuall kindnesse. This Age is not sick [?] of any superstuities in this kinde in the general, and therefore no great needs of physick for such diseases: Trouble not your self therefore any more about this matter; if you dislike New-yeares gifts, I would advise your Parishioners not to trouble your conscience with them, and all will be well. To your fourteeth Quære. Whether confirmity to, and retention of Heathenish Customes be commendable in Christians, sutable or agreeable with Gospel Principles, though under pretext of Christes Honour and Worshippe? Answer. You seeme to me to be ignorant, and have taken up opinions at too easie a rate; give me leave therefore to informe you a little: All Customes are not Heathenish that are observed among Heathens; it is a custome with Heathens to kneele at prayer, yet this is no Heathenish custome; it is a custome with Heathens to institute publique Fasts, and dayes of Humiliation in times of danger and calamity, will you say therefore that Christians are Heathenish, or comply with Heathenish customes in doing the like? Or if wee may joyne with them in appoynting dayes of fasting, why not as well in appoynting dayes of feasting, as long as wee joyne not with them in superstition about either? Wee must not deny Christ because the Devills confessed him. It is no good Christianity in the people of this Age to hate their brethren, because the Publicans are friendly unto theirs, Math. 5.47. Wee are not sure bound to prophane all times that the Heathens have superstitiously consecrated, if wee are, I doubt you will scarce have halfe an houre in the day or night left you for your devotions: Wee may joyne with Heathens or any in those things, that are good and wholesom. Heathenish customes cannot be good, but many customs of Heathens may: They have learnt, it is probable many practices of Religion from the people of God, and have corrupted the Coppies that they have taken from the Originalls, it is not necessary therefore for Gods people to cast away the Originalls which are pure and good. Heathenish customes are such as stand opposite to the doctrine of Christ and the Gospel: The Religious observation of these Fewstivalls makes for both; to appoyne and observe a day holyly and religiously for the solemne praise of God for Christ, and Gospel mercies, cannot be sayd to be against Christ or the Gospel; since the former is honoured, and the latter preached and published by this meanes: This therefore is no Heathenish custome; take you heed of complying with an Heathenish designe of abolishing the memory of Christ and Christianity from amongst us, it is a danger worthy of a double caution, it is not a pretext of Christs honour. But the truth thereof that justifies these dayes, and is the proper and holy business of them; wee desire not to march under such colours, but leave them rather to those that under pretext of Religion are busie to overthrow all Religion amongst us: I neede not tell you who they are, but wish you take heede of them. To your fifteenth Quære. Whether you re not bound to prove your practice for the conviction and satisfaction of your Brethren, whose duty it is to walke with you in things agreeable to the minde of Christ? And in case you cannot; Whether you ought not to acknowledge your errour, lay downe your practice (as others have done theirs) no longer befooling and misleading the people committed to your charge? Answer, I have sayd thus much for your conviction and satisfaction, and with it may worke to well with you, that as it is your duty, so it may be your practice to walke with us in things agreeable to the minde of Christ; and therefore I hope wee are sufficiently discharged from any necessity of confessing any errour in these thinges, and that it doth by this time appeare that there is much more neede of reforming yours, and of laying downe your practice as others have done theirs, no longer befooling nor misleading the people committed unto your Charge; that you may from hence forth teach them the wayes of peace and righteousnes. To your sixteenth Quære. Whether in case you returne no Answer to these Quaries, I have not ground sufficient to conclude you utterly unable to give any rationall account of your practice, now put upon it? Answer, Sir, you have an Answer to your Quæries, and therefore have no ground left you sufficient to conclude us unable to give any rationall account of our practice, which I wish you may receive with a Christian minde, that you and others may reape the fruit with a Christian minde, that you and others may reape the fruit thereof: Let your Study be Unity, for that is the way to felicity. The God of peace and holynesse direct you and us all into the wayes of peace and holynesse, that wee may no longer foster divisions and strife amongst us, to the joy of our adversaries, and the reproach of the Gospel; but that following the truth in love, wee may in all things grow up into him, which is the head, even Christ. -------- Nor for all the paines I have taken to answer your Quæries, I shall desire you to answer but one of mine, viz. Whether you think doth savour of most piety and good will unto Christ and his honour, to forbid the preaching of Gods word, and the celebration of the praise of God for his great mercies upon the 25 of December, or upon any other day, or to enjoyne it? Or whether it becomes Christians to prohibit the worke of God at any time?

Child singers of Christmas carols carrying a star with icon of a saint. Bucharest, 1842.

A Medieval Christmas Carol

From: Jokinen, Anniina, ed. "What Tidings Bringest Thou." Luminarium. 26 Nov 2009.

What Tidings Bringest Thou? :: What tydynges bringest thou, messenger, Of Christes birth this Yoles day? :: A babe ys born of hye nature, Is prins of pes & ever shal be. Of hevene & erthe he hath the cure, His lordshyp is eternite. Such wonder tydyngys ye mow here, That man is made now Godys pere, Whom synne hadde made but fendes praye. :: What tydynges bringest, &c. :: A semely syght hit is to se, The berde that hath this babe y-borne Conceyved a lord of hye degre, A maiden as heo was byforne. Such wonder tydyngys ye mow here, That maide & moder is one y-fere, And alwey lady of hye aray. :: What tydynges bringest, &c. :: This maide began to gretyn here childe, Saide: "Haile sone, haile fader dere!" He said: "Haile moder, haile maide mylde." This gretynge was in queynt maner. Such wonder tydyngys ye mow here, Here gretynge was in suche maner Hit turned manys peyne to play. :: What tydynges bringest, &c. :: A wonder thynge is now befalle; That lorde that formed sterres & sunne, Heven & earth & angelys alle, Nowe in mankynde is byginne. Such wonder tydyngys ye mow here, A faunt that is not of o yere, Ever hath y be & shal be ay. :: What tydynges bringest, &c. :: Notes: Yoles day - Yule Day; Christmas Day. hye - high prins of pes - Prince of Peace. Of heven... cure - he has power over heaven and earth. wonder tydyngys - wondrous tidings. mow here - may hear. Godys pere - God's peer. fendes praye - fiend's (Devil's) prey. semely syght hit is to se - pleasing sight it is to see. berde - maiden. hath this babe y-born - has given birth to this child. A maiden as heo was byforne - a virgin, as she was before [bearing the child]. That maide & moder is one y-fere - that maid & mother are one and the same. of hye aray - of great estate; magnificence. queynt - elegant. manes peyne to play - man's punishment (in hell) to enjoyment (in heaven). is now befalle - has now befallen; has happened. sterres - stars. angelys - angels. in mankynde is byginne - is born as man. faunt - infant (from the Fr. "enfant"). not of o yere - not even one year old. Ever hath y be & shal be ay - always has been and always will be.

An English Christmas in Paris

From: The Illustrated London News, 22 December, 1883. Drawings by A. Forestier.

click to enlarge.

A Draft of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" from 1843

The first National Christmas Tree was placed near the White House in 1923.

The Pilgrim Thanksgiving in 1621

An extract from: THE FAST AND THANKSGIVING DAYS OF NEW ENGLAND BY W. DeLOSS Love, Jr., Ph. D.; BOSTON AND NEW YORK; HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY. 1895.

"The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth" (1914) By Jennie A. Brownscombe The account of this occasion found in "Mourt's Relation" [page 133] is so frequently referred to that it is given in full: "Our harvest being gotten in, our Governour sent foure men on fowling, that so we might after a more speciall manner rejoyce together, after we had gathered the fruit of our labours; they foure in one day killed as much fowle, as with a little helpe beside, served the Company almost a weeke, at which time amongst other Recreations, we exercised our Armes, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and amongst the rest their greatest King Massasoyt, with some ninetie men, whom for three dayes we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed fine Deere, which they brought to the Plantation and bestowed on our Governour, and upon the Captaine, and others. And although it be not alwayes so plentifull, as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodnesse of God, we are so farre from want, that we often wish you partakers of our plentie."

"Girl Reading By A Window"

Over the years, artists have portrayed the reader and the act of reading in favorable light. Far more women than men have been photographed or painted as they read. Here is an excellent example. It is an oil painting by Edmund Charles Tarbell and is entitled "Girl Reading By A Window."

Henry Cabot Lodge's 4th of July Speech in Boston in 1879

Oration delivered before the City council and citizens of Boston, on the one hundred and third anniversary of the Declaration of American independence, July 4, 1879 by Henry Cabot Lodge at the Boston Theatre.

We meet to-day to commemorate, with customs honored in the observance, our national birthday. In this matter of birthdays, nations resemble individuals. The recurring anniversary is hailed in childhood with rejoicing and pleasure. It marks a period of rapid advance, and denotes another step towards manhood, and all its fancied independence. In due time the youth comes of age. Technically and legally, at least, the period of tutelage and immaturity is at an end. But with the acquisition of freedom a gradual change begins. Few persons go so far as Dean Swift, who passed his birthday in solitude, as a day of mourning, fasting, and prayer. Yet, to almost every one, I think, as he goes on in life, the birthday suggests more and more serious reflection. Gradually we turn our eyes, when the day arrives which closes each little cycle of our existence, from the future to the past. We strive more and more earnestly to draw from the departed years lessons which shall guide our footsteps upon the unknown pathway before us. If this be rightly done, it is at this period, when we have both a future and a past, that we achieve success.

So it is with nations. By the signatures of the Declaration of Independence we came into existence. By the signatures of the treaty of Paris, that existence was acknowledged in Europe. By the adoption of the Constitution, nationality, then only a possibility, became a probability, which, after many years, has ripened into certainty. Then came our boyhood, and the struggle to cast aside the colonial spirit, and shake ourselves free from the influence of older and stronger nations. This was a longer and more arduous process than we can readily realize now. If the world had been at peace, our task, wonderfully difficult under any circumstances, would have been somewhat simplified; but everything seemed to combine against us.

Civilized mankind was in the throes of the French revolution. Through the first period of that awful convulsion Washington and Hamilton and Adams steered us successfully into the haven offered by the peace of Amiens. There was a short lull, and then the tempest raged again more violently than before. The old pilots were gone, and there was no one who could fill their places in such stress and peril. We were the only important neutral nation in the world, and our rich and defenceless commerce was an inviting prey. We broke from our moorings, and drifted out upon the stormy seas of the Napoleonic wars, assailed by all, befriended by none. It was painfully evident then that we were still children, and still in tutelage, intellectually, if not physically. To our shame be it said, both political parties made it their principal business for ten years to accuse each other of foreign predilections. We displayed at every turn the violent anger and infirmity of purpose which characterize the headstrong and impetuous boy, whose powers are yet untried, and who lets " I dare not wait upon I would." It was a sorry time. . But the previous years of peace and union had not been useless. After sore humiliation and bitter insult had been tamely borne by the country a national party at last came into existence. They pushed aside the old leaders and the old provincial feelings, and resolved to fight. They acted blindly, hotly, and, in many ways, unwisely. They were not Washingtons, and could not imitate his policy. But they took the ' methods of the Federalists and the theories of the Democrats, and determined to assert their nationality by arms. In so doing they hurried the country into a desperate and losing war. They brought the Union to the verge of dissolution. They abandoned by treaty everything which they had sought to obtain by force. But they vindicated the national existence, they proved the fighting qualities of the race to be as fine as ever on sea, and at last on land, and they broke once for all the fetters of colonial thought and tradition. They did their work roughly and ignorantly, but they were right at, bottom, and by the treaty of Ghent we came of age.

Then followed a period of wild exuberance and exultant hope. By the almost magic growth of material prosperity, by the rapid spread of civilization, and by the new-born consciousness of nationality, men's minds were filled with visions of a political millennium. We became imbued with the belief that we had a great mission. All humanity was to come as to the promised land, and be relieved. The fertile imagination of Henry Clay devised the scheme of uniting all American States. This human freedom league, controlling the western hemisphere, was to resist the Holy Alliance of emperors and kings, and bring in the new world to redress the balance of the old. Doubts as to our system, or as to the perfection of humanity, when freed from oppressive government, were regarded as heresy. We were to reorganize society, and change the destiny of man. In our vanity, our self-confidence, our unwillingness to learn or to recognize and correct our faults, above all, in our morbid sensitiveness to ridicule, we showed only too clearly our youth and inexperience.

But, while we were rejoicing and looking forward to the beneficent and enchanted future, where our dreams were to become realities, a dark cloud was gathering over the prospect. Gradually it became evident that two distinct social systems had grown up within our borders, which were so wholly irreconcilable that even this broad land could not afford room for both. One must perish that the other might survive. With every advancing year the immutable laws of economy and industry widened and deepened the gulf between the opposing systems, and strengthened one side while they weakened the other. Free labor was stifled in an atmosphere where slaves breathed, and free labor held in its hands the destiny of the republic.

There might have been a time when this awful problem could have received a peaceable solution; but, when men were at last awakened to the facts, and prepared to deal with them, it was too late. Beneath the baneful influence of the slavery struggle, politics and public men degenerated, and the old statesmanship of the republic withered away. Great leaders, in Congress and elsewhere, cried, "Peace, peace;'' but there was no peace. Our social problem was a Gordian knot. We followed the example of Alexander, and untied it with the sword.

The greatest war of modern times, since Napoleon fled from the field at Waterloo, and all the far-reaching results of such a war, have made sad work with our illusions. They are gone, like our extreme youth, and we begin to turn our look backward for instruction as to the journey which once seemed so easy and so full of promise. We have reached the second stage in our national birthdays. The time for reflection has come. If we can profit by the teaching of the past, although the future no longer looks either so golden or so certain as of yore, we may still find in it a greater, better, and truer success even than that which once filled our youthful imaginings. On this day of the year it especially behooves us to make up our accounts and see how we stand. We may well pause for a moment in our hurried, nervous, busy life to contemplate the years which have gone, and see what we have done with them. We are growing old, old enough to have a history, old enough to study it carefully. Let us take, then.

That great, wise book, as beseemeth age,
While the shutters flap as the crosswind blows,
And we turn the page, and we turn the page,
Not verse, now, only prose.

We are in the very prime of life as a nation. We are still young, still growing, still plastic and able to learn. But we have also passed the period of immaturity; we are vigorous, powerful, rich, and masters of a continent. We have made for ourselves a history, and we have our heroes and our heroic age, — an age full of human passion and human error, but great by its struggles and its conquest of difficulties.

We are wont to revert to the war for independence as our most glorious time. So, in some respects, it was. But the Declaration of Independence is eclipsed by the adoption of the Constitution and the organization of the government. It is better to create than to destroy. If we had fought the Revolution merely to obtain the wretched Confederation, and then dissolve into petty and jarring States, it would have been more honorable to have remained an integral part of the great empire of England. But this was not to be. We proved ourselves worthy of our inheritance, and capable of the moderation, temperance, and foresight which resulted in the Constitution. With the inauguration of Washington our national existence became a fact, and to the history of-, our career from that time to this we must look for guidance and instruction.

Although history, as a science, is still in its infancy, we have gone far enough to perceive a few great laws of human development, and from these, as they are the greatest and simplest, we learn the most, our own history we can easily detect the governing forces which have shaped our destiny, and struggle for victory. Two great conflicts of opposing principles have gone on here side by side. Nationality and separatism, aristocracy and democracy, are the contending forces which have made the political history of the country, and been felt throughout society and all its manifold forms of activity. All these forces existed in the States of the Confederation. They were present at the debates on the Constitution, and, from the foundation of the government, they have battled for the great prize of its possession and administration.

In the old system of the Confederation the separatist principle was supreme. Every State looked out for its own immediate interest with selfish and short-sighted ingenuity. The general government was despised and rejected. Anarchy seemed at hand. By a grand effort the wisest and most patriotic men framed and carried the Constitution. They succeeded, by means of judicious compromises, in "extorting from the grinding necessity of a reluctant people" a bare assent to the new scheme. Whatever glosses may now be put upon the Constitution, and upon the debates which preceded it, there can be no doubt that it was regarded at the time not only as an experiment, but as an agreement. Irrationality had but a feeble life in 1789, when the first Congress met in New York. There is no need to dwell upon the growth of the national principle embodied in the Constitution, or the phases of the conflict which ensued between that principle and the older one of State sovereignty. They, at last, contended for dominion sword in hand, and the events which led to four years of civil war are as familiar as a twice-told tale.

Everyone knows that, with each advance of the national power, the separatist spirit started up with fiercer menace and contested the ground. Sometimes the State prevailed, and sometimes the nation. Finally the rights of States were appropriated to the service of slavery, which gathered to itself every interest and every passion almost of which human nature is capable. At last slavery drew the sword of State rights and struck at the national existence. Then it was seen that the Constitution had silently done its work. The puny infant of 1789 had become a giant. When the bit of bunting which typified national existence was assailed the national spirit burst forth. Men were ready to bear with slavery and with all else, but there was one thing they would not part with, — their nation. The strong instinct of nationality started up and filled the hearts and minds of men. Like other instincts it found no exact expression; it gave rise to no formula, but the strength of the people was in it, and was resolved that the Empire of the West should remain intact. All else might perish — that should not. Whether for good or ill, the nation should remain united, the empire should not be shattered into jarring and discordant States. In this spirit the battle was fought and victory gained. Whatever else might come to pass, the Union under one flag was assured so far as human exertion and human sacrifice can assure anything.

So much of the long struggle is over. That we are a nation, and not a confederacy, has been decided by the dread arbitrament of the sword. We may again have civil war, — which God forbid! — but we shall not fight for our national existence. If we do fight, it will be for the possession of the national government, not for its overthrow. The national force, social- and political, is supreme.

The history of the great conflict is familiar, but it is well to call it to mind and dwell upon its results and lessons. We owe our existence as a nation to the Constitution, and to its silent work during three- quarters of a century. Our first feeling ought to be one of gratitude to that great instrument, and to the men who framed it. Such gratitude, however, can be expressed only by reverence for its provisions and scrupulous observance of its limitations. Herein lie the merit and value of a written constitution, if it has any, and who can doubt this when its work is considered? Formed by wisdom and patriotism, the Constitution rises up over the warring passions of party, to check and to control. There is the rule of action for the majority; there, and there alone, can the rights of the minority find shelter and protection.

The Constitution, if we heed its provisions, gives time for cool second thought, and, as nearly as possible, personifies reason and law, staying the action of excited force. The man or the party who violates it endangers our liberties. They are the enemies of the national charter. The greater the majority which overrides its provisions, the greater and the more unpardonable the sin, for the Constitution has within itself means to remedy legally and deliberately its own shortcomings.

Foreign critics have sometimes found fault with our excessive reverence for the Constitution. We do well to venerate that which has made us a nation. But let us beware of mere lip-service, and take care that in practice we submit to and observe it. We are too ready to infringe both the letter and the spirit of the constitution in the excitement of party contests. Nothing can be more fatal, for within its sacred limits lies the well-being of our political system.

Within those limits, too, lies the defeated principle in the great conflict between nationality and separatism. In the last decisive struggle the rights of States were sorely wounded. It could not have been otherwise, when their most zealous advocates used them as the sword and shield of slavery, and dashed them against the strong rock of national existence. The injury then suffered by the rights of States is one of the gravest results of the war, simply from its effects upon our minds and habits of thought. "We have been insensibly led to regard a violation of State rights with indifference, if not with approval. The principle of States' rights is as vital and essential as the national principle itself. If the former, carried to extremes, means anarchy, the latter, carried to like extremes, means centralization and despotism. So long as we have the strong barrier of the States, we are safe from usurpation and plebiscites. Here in the North, States' rights have naturally become words of evil significance, and are even used to revile political opponents. This is not only bad in itself, but it involves an amount of historical hypocrisy which is intolerable. The most meagre outline of our history suffices to show unmistakably that the separatist principle has existed everywhere, and has, at some time, burst forth everywhere into dangerous activity. If this teaches nothing else, it should at last enforce the wholesome doctrines of consistency and charity.

That separatism should have existed everywhere was not only natural but inevitable. The government of each State was old, familiar, and beloved when the Union was formed. The State represented "the past. With its existence were entwined all the memories and traditions which carried men back to tile toils and sufferings of their hardy ancestors, who bad made homes in the wilderness that their children might be free and receive a continent for their inheritance. The hearts of men were bound up in their States. The Federal government at first appealed only to their reason or their interest. To their States they turned as the objects of their first allegiance. This sentiment knew neither North nor South, East nor West. Nothing is more false than to associate the doctrine of States' rights with any particular part of the country, or exclusively with those States which last invoked its aid. Nothing is plainer than that the States and the party in power have always been strongly national, while the minority, call it by what party name you will, has as steadily gravitated toward States' rights.

There has never been a moment of peculiar stress and bitterness when the truth of this has not been brought home with sharp distinctness.

Washington and Adams and Hamilton were strong nationalists, and vigorously supported a liberal construction of the Constitution. The opposition, led by Jefferson, resisted the central government, advocated strict construction, and leaned upon States' rights. But the wheel revolved, and Jefferson became President. He retained in office all his old theories, but his practice was that of his predecessors. No one ever pushed the national power further, or strained the Constitution more boldly, than Thomas Jefferson. The famous alien and sedition laws of the Federalists paled before the stringency and oppression of the enforcement act, which almost drove Massachusetts into rebellion. Both measures were said to be demanded by national safety; both were the work of a national administration, and they were severally carried through by parties of diametrically opposite principles. On the other hand, the Federalists, once out of office and a hopeless minority, drifted into States' rights, and used them freely against the national government. The Union was never in greater peril than in 1814, when New England threatened secession unless the administration and ruling party yielded to her demands. With characteristic caution, she stayed her uplifted hand and waited a little longer. The wisest and most temperate leaders among the Federalists put aside the more violent, in order to guide and check the separatist movement, and thus maintain a control which open opposition would have destroyed. But no one then doubted either the meaning or the danger of New England's altitude. If the blow had fallen, the Union would have been dashed in pieces, without hope of recovery.

States' rights belong to no party and to no State. They are as universal as nationality; and that they are so is proof of their value. But they go much deeper than their name implies. They involve a principle as old as the race itself. This principle was born in the forests of Germany, is recorded in the pages of Tacitus, and came with the wild Teutonic tribes across the channel to Britain more than a thousand years ago. It is the great Anglo-Saxon principle of local self-government, and is the safe- guard of our liberties now, as it has ever been in the past. Without it there is no health in us. It should be more jealously watched than any other, because the tendency in large communities is always towards centralization. We see illustrations of this tendency every day, in the growing habit of both parties to judge every question according to its expediency, and not according to the constitutional principles, which they, as parties, are supposed to represent. There seems to be no desire anywhere to oppose a measure, simply and solely because it leans more toward centralization than is warranted by the Constitution. This tendency is full of peril. Our government is a system of checks and balances. Destroy one element, and the whole fabric falls. Nationality is strong and safe. Our most important duty is to protect our local rights, wherever they exist, and feel as the colonies did when the Boston Port Bill passed, that the cause of one is the cause of all.

Two lessons are clearly written on the pages which record the strife between the inborn love of local independence and the broader spirit of nationality created by the Constitution. One is reverence for the Constitution; the other, a careful maintenance of the principle of States' rights.

Let us turn for a moment to the other great conflict, which has gone on side by side with that between nationality and separatism. The opposing principles of aristocracy and democracy, of government by part, instead of government by all, of class- rule, in contradistinction to the rule of the whole people, have entered more deeply into our manners, habits, modes of thought, and daily lives than the purely political forces. The latter are better understood and appreciated, but the former, silently and almost unnoticed, have striven to possess and retain every nerve and fibre of the social and political body. Incidentally the conflict between aristocracy and democracy became involved in that between nationality and separatism, and met its fate upon the same field; but its history and origin are, nevertheless, wholly independent.

We are too apt to forget that an aristocracy of strong social and political influence existed in a greater or less degree in every one of the thirteen colonies when they threw off the yoke of the mother- country. In Virginia and the southern States there was a pure aristocracy in theory and in fact. It rested upon the firm foundation of great landed estates, a tenantry of slaves, and broad class distinctions. Government was wholly in the hands of this ruling class, and the Virginian system continued to sway the South until the day of Lee's surrender. In New England, on the other hand, the political system was democratic, and modeled upon the church system of the early Puritans. Here, too however, there was an aristocracy from which our early leaders were chiefly taken; but their power and influence rested only upon consent. They were permitted to guide and govern, deference was yielded to them, and official position freely given, but solely on account of ancestral service to the State, of ability, wealth, or learning. Such an aristocracy may be an ideal one, but its tenure of power is precarious, and its supports are frail. The middle States contained both Virginian and New England elements. Great families, owning vast estates, dominated New York, but mainly by dexterous management of the masses; while, in Pennsylvania, the democratic principle had the advantage, and the aristocracy, from its own supineness, seems to have had less power even than in New England.

This wide-spread, aristocratic element, which was so powerful a century ago, made itself deeply felt in all matters of government. We find in the early State constitutions ample provisions for the representation of the upper classes, and for the restraint of democracy, as well as many and various limitations upon the suffrage. The aristocratic principle came out strongly in the convention which framed the constitution of the United States. “We are too democratic, and means must be found to check the spread and the action of democracy," was the cry of many members in that convention, including some men who soon after followed the Jeffersonian standard. The great party which carried the Constitution, organized and set in motion the government, held possession of it for twelve years, and nearly overthrew it in their last struggle for power, was an aristocratic party, and wished to build up and consolidate a ruling class.

They aimed at the creation of an aristocratic republic, and a strong and energetic central government. They shrank with undisguised horror from the idea of universal suffrage, and, embittered by the spectacle of the French revolution, regarded pure democracy as equivalent to anarchy, and, as of necessity, a government by the worst elements of society. They fought manfully to maintain and carry out their theory, and they failed. They were contending with an irresistible social and political force, and the accession of Jefferson not only marked their defeat, but accomplished a complete revolution in our theory of government. From that time the democratic principle was supreme. But customs die hard. Even after the vital principle is gone habits live on. The theory was established, but more than a quarter of a century elapsed before the practice was changed. There was still a ruling class from which the men to fill high office were for the most part selected. Birth, education, social position, wealth, and training still continued to be most important requisites for a statesman. At last the second revolution came, and practice was made to conform to theory. With the election of Andrew Jackson, qualities, inherited or acquired, which raised a man above his fellows, and had been supposed to imply peculiar fitness for public life, were cast aside forever as tests for employment in the national service.

Ability, property, training, reputation, were not only no longer required, they became positive disadvantages. A “self-made" man, who had started with nothing, and worked his way up, despite ignorance and poverty, from the log-cabin in the backwoods, was considered to have better claims, solely on account of his antecedents, than one who had been bred to the profession of state-craft, and had every opportunity for improvement which wealth and care could give. The new practice, carried by the impulse of victory to extremes, was every whit as false as the old. It simply reversed the ancient order, and declared that favor should be extended to those who had formerly stood at a disadvantage. Class discrimination was as strong as ever, in a new form. But all class distinctions are foreign to the spirit of our political system, no matter what portion of society is the favored one. They are utterly alien to the theory of administration which was accepted and laid down at the outset as the guiding principle of our government, and in accordance with which the best men, and the best men only, were to administer public affairs and be properly remunerated for their labor. This was a business theory, upon which our system was founded, and it worked capitally until, as was said by Mr. Evarts, I believe, the corollary was added, that one man was just as good as another. It was this corollary which was swept into power with Andrew Jackson, and it was anything but a business theory. It never obtained for a moment, in any walk of private life, where fitness has always continued to be the test of selection for places of trust and profit. In public affairs alone it was forced into practical operation. We are still reaping the results of this distortion of democratic principles.

It would, however, be a mistake, to suppose that, because the national government had at last become purely democratic, class rule and aristocracy were therefore at an end. The Virginian system still prevailed in the South, and still held sway at Washington. The aristocracy of Virginia had perceived at an early day that they could not gain supremacy without northern allies. These they obtained with great sagacity and perfect success. They could form no alliance with the northern leaders in the days of the Federalists, so they turned to the masses. The people of the Northern States were altogether democratic, and had no real sympathy with slave-holders and great landlords. But the Virginian system was impregnable at home, and the Virginian leaders stepped boldly forward as the friends of humanity and equality, and as the advocates of doctrines which, if applied to their own State, meant total destruction to the very system that gave them power. Under the cloak of democratic principles, Virginia divided the North, and the curious spectacle was presented of the aristocratic portion of the country ranged on the side of democracy, while aristocracy made its stand and fought its last desperate fight under its true colors in the most thoroughly democratic States.

The Virginian policy worked admirably. For twenty-four years Virginia retained the presidency. For thirty-five years more the South controlled the national government. Under the withering and debasing influence of slavery the Virginian aristocracy rapidly degenerated. They ceased to be the class which had produced Washington and Marshall. Virginian aristocracy broadened into a southern aristocracy, and lost the qualities which had once made them so much more than mere slave-drivers and plantation lords. The aristocratic force remained, but its graces and virtues had departed, blighted by slavery and by the constant defence of what men in their hearts knew to be a great and crying iniquity. Still they held on, while violence and truculence usurped the place of courtesy and good-breeding, and drove out those other attributes which had once given the southern leaders a high and acknowledged position.

But other forces were at work, and the opposing systems met at last in battle. On the field of Gettysburg the democracy of Plymouth and the aristocracy of Jamestown came together in arms, and the principles of the Puritan triumphed once more over those of the Cavalier. As in the days of Charles I., aristocratic principles had allied themselves with a bad cause, and met with the defeat which that cause merited. The last class government was utterly swept away. We are finally democratic throughout the length and breadth of the land.

With the civil war the first era of our history closed. It is settled that we are to be one nation, and we have established a pure representative democracy. These results have been accomplished by tremendous sacrifices and exertions, and they bring with them a mighty responsibility. We have undertaken a gigantic task. We are making the greatest experiment in government ever attempted. We have built up an empire so great that, whether for evil or good, it is a chief factor in the affairs of civilized mankind and of the world. We have gradually evolved a political and social system which has, on the whole, produced a greater amount of human happiness and well-being than any other. We have done more to raise the condition of the average man than any other nation. To us belongs the solemn duty of maintaining this system, and of making this experiment of a great representative democracy succeed.

It is a momentous and difficult task. We cannot escape it. We cannot retrace our steps. We must either maintain our system as it is, or plunge blindly forward. We have reached the last point of safe progress in government. We have conferred sovereignty upon every man in the community, and, unless we include women and children, there is no possibility of further expansion in this direction. The step from democracy is to socialism, and although socialism is not an immediate danger in the United States, it here and there rears its ugly head and breathes its false spirit into our laws and party resolutions. It must be crushed out before it gathers strength; for socialism means anarchy, and anarchy can have but one result, the order of military despotism. Our position is difficult, and fraught with peril, but we have proved ourselves capable of great things, and we have no reason to falter. Yet, if we wish and mean to succeed, we must lay aside careless indifference as well as fear, and take seriously to heart some of the pregnant lessons of history.

The great secret of the political success of our race lies in its conservatism, in its ability to reform and not destroy in order to create anew. "We have adapted our forms of government to the changing necessities of the times, by clinging to the past until sure of the future, by holding fast the good and rejecting only the bad, and by sturdy contempt for inconsistencies, provided the system practically worked well.

But, in this country, by our youth, by our success, and by the marvelous changes we have wrought, we have been led to forget these principles. We have become too apt to concede that a change is worth trying, simply because it is a change. We are too ready to admit that everything is open to argument, instead of adhering, in some measure, at least, to the practice of our ancestors, who believed that there were certain laws and institutions upon which all civilized society rested, that were not susceptible of discussion. Let us revert to the traditions of our race, and practise a little more wholesome conservatism. No change should be made in our political system until it has been well considered and conclusively demonstrated that it is not a change for the worse. Progress is a fine word, but it is not necessarily a good thing. It may be progress in evil as well as in good. It may be as bad as reaction, and much worse than standing still.

In another respect, which nearly affects the success of our great democratic experiment, we have departed from the maxims of our ancestors and of the founders of the republic. No men were ever more skilled than they in the difficult art of free government, and they knew well that the sphere of legislation was not boundless. They believed that legislation could assist human effort by giving security to all, and thereby extending the best opportunities for great achievements. But they taught the doctrine that the individual man should rely upon himself, and not upon his government, for well-being and success. They were firmly convinced that legislation could not be a panacea for every ill that flesh is heir to; that it could not prevent human passion and error, and their legitimate results, or free men from misfortune and from the consequences of their own folly and mistakes. The fathers of our system had learned by bitter experience that legislation should be restricted to the very well defined field where effective action is possible, should leave room for every man to exert his talents, and, above all things, should not be meddling and paternal. This was sound, wise doctrine. But there is now a growing tendency to invoke legislation to cure the results of our own blunders; to regard it as a universal remedy for every mishap, and to carry it out of its proper sphere and force it to do work which belongs to the individual man. Such helpless leaning upon legislation is false in theory, dangerous in practice, thoroughly unmanly, and as peculiarly un-American as anything can possibly be. It is diametrically opposed to the independent, self-reliant spirit which has made America what she is. Strong,' masculine races have no need of paternal legislation. It is their worst enemy.

But there is one danger to our democracy which far surpasses all others in gravity and importance. When the government was founded, although there was a well-defined aristocracy, the social and economical conditions were much more favorable than at present to the successful establishment and working of a pure democracy. Great fortunes were rare, and extreme poverty was almost unknown. Men stood, as a rule, pretty nearly upon an equality in the matter of property and physical well-being. Agriculture and trade were the only pursuits of the community. There were no great centres of population. The largest cities were hardly more than small towns. Huge masses of capital were not collected for the prosecution of vast enterprises. Life was simple, and class distinctions rankled in no man's breast, despite the power and position of the aristocracy.

As the years have rolled on we have become a pure democracy, and, meantime, all the social and economical conditions have radically changed. Immense fortunes are no longer rare, and desperate poverty is only too common. Great corporations, controlling vast amounts of capital, have come into existence. Great cities have grown up, and complicated industries have spread, or are spreading, over the whole country. From a small society, where material equality reigned, simple in its tastes, habits and pursuits, we have become a great nation, with all the intricate and delicate machinery of a high and luxurious civilization, filled with glaring inequalities of condition.

In this state of affairs there is one thing absolutely fatal to the continuance of democratic government, and that is, strife between classes. Under the old and equal conditions this was not to be feared. Nearly everybody had a stake in the peaceable existence of the country and in the continued stability of the government. All men knew, with the keen instinct of those who have something to lose, the ruin which lurked in social disorder and in any invasion of the rights of property. The population then was also largely rural and widely scattered, and such inequalities as there were did not come home to men by daily and unavoidable contact. Now, enormous and defenceless wealth dwells side by side with hopeless poverty. In the progress of our wonderful development we have brought together a great deal of very inflammable material. Let us see to it that it is not ignited, as it might easily be if one class is aroused against another.

Here is the terrible foe of our system. Here is the enemy which, once let loose, will bring our fair experiment crashing in ruins about our heads. Scrupulous protection of private rights and private property has been the great secret of our success and the chief glory of our popular government. This essential principle can be destroyed not only by force, which is little to be feared, but quite as effectually, although more insidiously, under forms of law. In either case the meaning is the same. It is one part of society attacking the other, and if this war between classes comes the present scheme is ruined. It begins with statutes and constitutions, and ends with the bayonet and the barricade. While political divisions run up and down, we are safe; but, when they begin to run across society, the end is not far distant.

To the diminution, and, if possible, to the removal, of this danger, which can now be easily dealt with, our best efforts should be directed. A brand should be set upon the man who strives to stir up war.