A Christmas greeting

Part 2

Chapter 23,951 wordsPublic domain

Long live our Emperor-King and Empress-Queen! God save them from all evils near or far! May golden years of happiest peace serene Make bright the sway of their Imperial star! Before high Heaven we swear to them our faith, Honour and truth and loyalty till death! Courage and chivalry are with us yet,-- God shall forget us all ere We forget! Loud let our voices with the joy-bells ring, To all the nations here together met;-- God be with England, and with England’s King!

THE SOUL OF QUEEN ALEXANDRA

A SPIRIT-PICTURE

_HAVE you seen the Queen?_

Thousands of eager lips voiced this question,--thousands of eager eyes were turned towards the stately towers of Westminster, rising darkly outlined like fine bronze against the cold grey sky, on that bleak and bitter feast-day of St. Valentine, 1901, when Edward VII., King of Great Britain and Emperor of India, went in state to open his first Parliament. Thousands of loving and loyal hearts, still heavy with grief for the loss of Victoria the Good, so long the Mother of her people, grew warm with tenderness and devotion as the whispered name “Alexandra!” ran from mouth to mouth, and the old fiery chant, so gloriously sung by the last great Poet-Laureate of England, came back like a wave breaking on the shore of many memories:--

“Sea-King’s daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! Saxon, and Norman, and Dane are we, But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra! Welcome her thunders of fort and of fleet, Welcome her thundering cheer of the street!

* * * * *

“Oh, joy to the people, and joy to the Throne, Come to us, love us, and make us your own!”

For had she not obeyed and fulfilled the Poet’s invocation? Had she not, indeed, come to us, and loved us, and made us her own? And had we not taken her in all her youth and hope and beauty, and made her our own in turn?--our own Princess of Loving-Kindness, dear to all, honoured by all as one of the purest and noblest figures in all the history of English Royal annals? And so on this St. Valentine’s Day of never-to-be-forgotten memory, the people gathered in multitudes to see her pass,--transformed from Princess into Queen--a change which, though always predestined, seemed at the time singular and as much attended by grief as by gladness. For she--like all the people who were one with her in truth and loyalty to the Throne--mourned the loss of the greatest, best, and wisest Sovereign that had ever reigned in England since the days of Elizabeth,--one, who to the diplomacy, tact, and foresight of Elizabeth, had added the sweetness, gentleness, and love of a pure womanly heart, ever in sympathy with the joys and griefs of her people. Affection, curiosity, and compassion struggled for the mastery in the minds of the vast crowds that watched the progress of the gorgeous State Coach, drawn by the dainty cream ponies which had but lately, alas! drawn the dead Queen through the great city to her last rest; and people standing a-tiptoe strove to peer through the glass on all sides, not so much to catch a glimpse of the King’s familiar face as to note the expression on the delicate fair features of his Consort. It was difficult to see her within the cumbrous painted and gilded equipage,--the King’s brilliant uniform and glittering orders made his figure more conspicuous than hers; moreover, his features were so well known to the crowds who had long loved him as their “popular” prince, that no one was put to any great strain to recognize him. But the shrinking, graceful form at his side was less distinct in outline--one saw a blur of sable robes and long-flowing veil, the gleam of jewels, a wistful face with soft grieved eyes, and that was all.

Inside the House of Lords, however, the impression was different. There, amid the rustle of black silken robes, and the sweep of mourning veils and funereal plumes, the glisten of diamonds, the milky sheen of pearls, and the almost startling relief of colour afforded by the scarlet robes of the Peers, came the very incarnation of majesty;--of grief and beauty in one, when the “Sea-King’s daughter” stood pale and proud beside her Husband and King,--when the Royal robes of ruby velvet and snowy ermine fell around that slight regal figure clad in solemn black, almost crushing it with a weight of splendour, and when the sweet eyes gazed out on the crowded gathering of the world’s most brilliant personages of rank and influence with a gravity not unmingled with pain. A fitting partner for the Throne of the greatest Emperor on earth.

“She stood beside him like a rainbow braided, Within some storm, when scarce its shadows vast From the blue paths of the swift sun have faded.”

There was present one who looked upon her at that moment, and looking, saw her with other eyes than those of mere humanity,--saw her as earthly sight alone can never see her,--in the clear undarkened air of psychic vision which brings all things, all circumstances, all seeming shapes into the true prospective of the Soul’s distinct and unerring observation. And in that Light she stood uplifted;--the symbols of earth’s passing power and splendour were no longer visible--the crowding forms around her were as drifting shadows, dimly outlined or vanishing altogether into darker space. High above them all her Spirit rose transfigured;--revealed in its true beauty,--transformed by a Thought,--and hallowed by a Prayer! No longer robed in sombre mourning garb, her figure shone resplendent, clad in the dazzling whiteness of an Angel’s wearing;--Royal robes of Heaven’s imperishable gold enfolded her as with wings,--and on her brow sparkled the deathless Crown of many bravely-endured mortal sorrows turned into jewels of immortal joy! Unconscious of the living radiating light surrounding her she stood; serene and prayerful,--watchful and patient,--fearless and resigned,--loving and true; and like the breaking of great waves upon the shifting sand, came the murmur of a mighty people’s praise,--the grateful blessings of brave soldiers far away, fighting for England’s honour,--the tenderness of children’s love--the thankfulness of struggling souls rescued from sin and death! Pure thoughts, pure words, pure deeds formed a glittering triumphal arch of rainbow hues above her, attracting with an irresistible force the unseen powers of good, which, through all clouds of doubt and chance, do yet flash their star-like rays of hope upon the world, inspiring the mind of humanity to fresh work, ambition, and endeavour. To her--a Queen of Fair Virtues--ascended the earnest, though unworded petitions of all good women for guidance and example,--to her their looks were turned for leadership through the devious and difficult ways of life,--for to them she seemed

“Fixt like a beacon-tower above the waves Of tempest.”

War or peace,--loss or gain,--defeat or victory--these earthly incidents of life passed over her as the mere brief reflex of a darkness on her brightness, and touched her not at all. Plainly could it be seen that she had known sorrow; plainly was it evident that she had shed tears. She had clasped the Cross to her breast--she had testified her faith in God by a grand resignation to the Divine Will. But these things made the stature of her Soul so much the fairer, that such marks of pain and loss could only be perceived in her as indications of more perfect gladness. So did she shine;--pictured for a fleeting moment in the clear mirror of spiritual perception, with all the colours of unfading Truth about her, and seen, not “as in a glass darkly, but face to face,”--a visible Queen indeed, of a far wider realm than Imperial Britain! For Imperial Britain may have its day like Imperial Rome--may run its course equally to decay and death,--but the Empire of love and purity, of unselfishness and goodness, of truth and kindness, is built up on eternal foundations and can never end! And within that Empire the Soul of Queen Alexandra is crowned more gloriously than with the crown of England,--from every quarter of it she commands more subjects than any earthly kingdom holds,--and those who cannot penetrate into this boundless and everlasting realm of hers, do not know her, and cannot say they have ever looked upon her! And when the King’s first Parliament was opened--when all the “great” in rank and wealth and fashion had pushed and scrambled and hustled themselves out of Westminster, commenting audibly and flippantly on the looks, manners and deportment of their Majesties, how many among them, we may wonder, had seen the veil of earthly things withdrawn and the appearance of that lovely Soul disclosed as God sees it, in all the fairest portraiture of a truly Royal Presence?

One--certainly one--out of all the brilliant assemblage had truly “seen” the Queen;--and that one who was so permitted to behold her as she actually is in the watchful sight of Heaven, remembers every line, every grace, every touch of colour and beauty in the gracious Spirit-picture,--and is glad--for England’s sake!

A CHRISTMAS CAROL AT SANDRINGHAM

REFRAIN

GOD save your gracious Majesties,-- Let nothing you dismay, Remember Christ our Saviour Was born on Christmas Day.

* * * * *

The gates of Heaven were opened then, And the Herald-Angels came-- Singing “Peace on earth, goodwill to men” In blessed Jesu’s Name; But the world is forgetting that sacred song, Heard by the shepherds of old, And, despite Christ’s birth, there is war on earth, And wolves in the Master’s fold;-- And for this cause we are sent to you,-- To give you a word of cheer-- God save your gracious Majesties, And send you a happy Year!

Three weary travellers are we, And at your door we stand,-- We come from an Empire of the free, A far-off Golden Land-- A Land where the dear ones you have lov’d And lost for a parting breath, Are as angels bright, in the perfect light Of a life that knows no death. In heavenly choir they sing with us, Their voices you may hear-- “God save your gracious Majesties, And send you a Blessèd Year!”

From your heart’s gentle excellence A welcome we would win! We pray you send us not from hence, But let us enter in. Poor are our garments,--no store we keep Of wealth for the world to see,-- But the names we bear are forever fair-- “Faith,--Hope,--and Charity!” Sisters belov’d of Christ, we come To sing you a carol clear,-- “God save your gracious Majesties, And give you a Happy Year!”

Unbar to us your household gate,-- With you we seek to dwell;-- We are your Angel guards of state, And we will shield you well! No foes shall harm you, no ills befall, While we in your home remain, And the love of the grand, sweet Empire-Land Shall glorify your reign! May Jesu’s love and peace protect You and your children dear!-- God save your gracious Majesties For many a good New Year!

* * * * *

REFRAIN

God save your gracious Majesties, Let nothing you dismay, ’Tis life to know that Christ our Lord Was born on Christmas Day!

A QUESTION OF FAITH

PROPOUNDED TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

BEFORE fully entering on this paper, I should like those who may be inclined to read it to understand very distinctly, once and for all, that I am a Christian. I am sorry that the too-hasty misjudgment of others compels me to assert the fact. The term “atheist” has been applied to me by several persons who should know better,--for it is an absolutely false, and I may add, libellous accusation. That it has been uttered unthinkingly and at random by idle chatterers who have never read a line I have written I can well believe,--nevertheless it is a mischievous rumour, as senseless as wicked. Poor and inadequate as my service is, and must ever be, still I am a follower of the Christian Faith, _as expounded in Christ’s own words to His disciples_. I believe that Christian Faith to be the grandest and purest in the world,--the most hopeful, the most strengthening, the most soul-supporting and ennobling religion ever taught to humanity. To me, in hours of the bitterest trial, it has proved not “a reed shaken by the wind”--but a rock firmer than the foundations of the world, against which the waves of tribulation break in vain and disperse to naught,--and when brought face to face with imminent death as I have been, it has kept me fearless and calm. I know--because I have experienced--its priceless worth, its truth, its grand up-lifting-power; and it is because this simple Christian Faith is so dear to me, and so much a part of my every-day life, that I venture to ask a few straight questions of those who, calling themselves Christians, seem to have lost sight altogether of their Master and His commands. I like people who are consistent. Inconsistency of mind is like uncleanliness of body; it breeds discomfort and disease. And in this wonderful age of ours, in which there is so little real “greatness,”--when even the tried heroism of our leading statesmen and generals is sullied by contemptible jealousies and petty discussions of a quarrelsome nature,--when the minds of men are bent chiefly on money-making and mechanical inventions to save labour (labour being most unfortunately estimated as a curse instead of the blessing it indubitably is), I find inconsistency the chief ingredient of all modern thought. Things are jumbled up in a heterogeneous mass, without order, distinction or merit. And the principal subject on which men and women are most wildly, glaringly inconsistent is that which is supposed to be the guiding rule of life--religion. I should like to try and help settle this vexed question. I want to find out what the Christian Empire means by its “faith.” I want to know how our King proposes to enact his magnificent part of “Defender of the Faith.” I venture to lift up my voice as the voice of one alone in the wilderness, and to send it with as clear a pitch and true a tone as I can across the sea of discussion,--the stormy ocean of angry and contradictory tongues,--and I ask bluntly and straightly, “What is it all about? DO YOU BELIEVE YOUR RELIGION, OR DO YOU NOT?”

It is an honest question, and demands an honest answer. Put it to yourselves plainly. DO YOU BELIEVE WITH ALL YOUR HEART AND SOUL IN THE FAITH YOU PROFESS TO FOLLOW?

Again--put it with equal plainness--DO YOU NOT BELIEVE ONE IOTA OF IT ALL, AND ARE YOU ONLY FOLLOWING IT AS A MATTER OF CUSTOM AND FORM?

Let us, my reader or readers, be round and frank with each other. If you are a Christian, your religion is to believe that Christ was a human Incarnation or Manifestation of an Eternal God, born miraculously of the Virgin Mary; that He was crucified in the flesh as a criminal, died, was buried, rose again from the dead, and ascended to heaven as God and Man in one, and there perpetually acts as Mediator between mankind and Divine Justice. Remember, that if you believe this you believe in the PURELY SUPERNATURAL. But let anyone talk or write of the purely supernatural as existent in any other form save this one of the Christian Faith, and you will probably be the first to scout the idea of the supernatural altogether. Why? Where is your consistency? If you believe in one thing which is supernatural, why not in others?

Now let us consider the other side of the question. You who do not believe, but still pretend to do so, for the sake of form and conventional custom, do you realize what you are? You consider yourself virtuous and respectable, no doubt; but facts are facts, and you, in your pretence at faith, are nothing but a liar. The honest sunshiny face of day looks on you and knows you for a hypocrite--a miserable unit who is trying in a vague, mad fashion to cheat the Eternal Forces. Be ashamed of lying, man or woman, whichever you be! Stand out of the press and say openly that you do not believe; so at least shall you be respected. Do not show any religious leanings either to one side or the other “for the sake of custom”--and then we shall see you as you are, and refrain from branding you “liar.” I would say to all, clergy and laity, who do not in their hearts believe in the Christian Faith, “Go out of the Church; stand aside and let us see who is who. Let us have space in which to count up those who are willing to sacrifice all their earthly well-being for Christ’s sake (for it amounts to nothing less than this), and those who prefer this world to the next.” I will not presume to calculate as to which will form the larger majority. I only say it is absurd to keep up churches, and an enormous staff of clergy, archbishops, bishops, popes, cardinals, and the like, for a faith in which we do not TRULY, ABSOLUTELY, AND ENTIRELY BELIEVE. It is a mere pageant of inflated falsehood, and as such must be loathsome in the sight of God,--this always with the proper proviso, “if there indeed be a God.” Yet, apart from a God altogether, it is degrading to ourselves to play the hypocrite with the serious facts of life and death. Therefore, I ask you again--Do you believe, or do you not believe? My object in proposing the question at all is to endeavour to show the spiritual and symbolic basis upon which the Christian Faith rests, and the paramount necessity there is for accepting it in its pristine purity and beauty, if we would be wise. To grasp it thoroughly, we must view it not as it now seems to look to us through the darkening shadows of sectarianism, BUT AS IT WAS ORIGINALLY FOUNDED. The time has come upon us that is spoken of in the New Testament, when “one shall be taken and the other left,” and the sorting of the sheep from the goats has already commenced. It can be said with truth that most of our Churches, as they now exist, are diametrically opposed to the actual teachings of their Divine Founder. It can be proved that in our daily lives we live exactly in the manner which Christ Himself would have most sternly condemned. And when all the proofs are put before you plainly, and without disguise or hyperbole, in the simplest and straightest language possible, I shall again ask you, “DO YOU BELIEVE, OR DO YOU NOT BELIEVE?” If you do believe, declare it openly and live accordingly; if you do not believe, in God’s name leave off lying!

The Symbolism of the Christian Faith has been and is still very much lost sight of, owing to the manner in which the unimaginative and unthinking majority of people will persist in looking at things from a directly physical, materialistic, and worldly point of view. But if we take the life and character of Christ as a Symbolic representation of that Perfect Manhood which alone can be pleasing to God,--which alone can be worthy to call the Divine Source of Creation “Father!”--some of our difficulties may possibly be removed. Christ’s Gospel was first proclaimed in the East,--and the Eastern peoples were accustomed to learn the great truths of religion by a “symbolic,” or allegorical method of instruction. Christ Himself knew this,--for He taught them many things by parables.

We shall do well to keep this spirit of Eastern symbolism in mind when considering the “miraculous” manner of Christ’s birth. Note the extreme poverty, humility, well-nigh shame attending it! Joseph doubted Mary, and was “minded to put her away privily.” Mary herself doubted the Angelic Annunciation, and said, “How shall this be?”

Thus, even with those most closely concerned, a cloud of complete disbelief and distrust environed the very thought, suggestion, and announcement of God-in-Man.

It should be remembered that the Evangelists Mark and John, have no account of a miraculous birth at all. John, supreme as a Symbolist, the “disciple whom Jesus loved,” wrote, “The WORD was made flesh and dwelt among us.”

Securing this symbolic statement for ourselves, we find that two of the chief things which we attach importance to in this world--namely, birth and position--are altogether set aside in this humanizing of the WORD, and are of no account whatever. And that the helpless Child lying in a manger on that first Christmas morning of the world, was, despite poverty and humility, foredestined to possess more power than all the kings and emperors ever born in the purple.

Thus, the first lessons we get from the birth of Christ are--Faith and Humility--and these are the whole spirit of His Divine doctrine.

Now,--How does this spirit pervade our social community to-day, after nearly two thousand years of constant preaching and teaching?

Look round on the proud array of the self-important, pugnacious, quarrelsome, sectarian, and intolerant so-called “servants of the Lord.” The Pope of Rome, and his Cardinals and his Monsignori! The Archbishop of Canterbury, and _his_ Bishops, Deacons, Deans and Chapters, and the like! The million “sects”--and all the cumbrous paraphernalia of the wealthy and worldly “ordained” to preach the Gospel! Ask them for “proofs” of faith! For signs of “humility”! For evidences of any kind to show that they are in very soul and life and truth the followers of that Master who never knew luxury, and had not where to lay His head!

And you, among the laity, how can you pray, or pretend to pray to a poor and despised “Man of Sorrow,” in these days, when with every act and word of your life you show your neighbours that you love Money better than anything else in earth or in heaven!--when even you who are millionaires only give and do just as much as will bring you notoriety or purchase you a “handle” to your names! Why do you bend your hypocritical heads on Sundays to the Name of “Jesus,” who (so far as visible worldly position admitted) was merely the son of a carpenter, and followed the carpenter’s trade, while on week-days you make no secret of your scorn of, or indifference to the “working-man,” and more often than not spurn the beggar from your gates!

Be consistent, friends!--be consistent! IF YOU BELIEVE IN CHRISTIANITY, you must also believe in these three things:--

1. The virtue of poverty.

2. The dignity of labour.

3. The excellence of simplicity.

Rank, wealth, and all kinds of ostentation should be to you pitiable--not enviable.

IS IT SO? Do you prefer poverty with a pure conscience to ill-gotten riches? Would you rather be a faithful servant of Christ or a slave of Mammon? Give the answer to your own soul,--but give it honestly--if you can!

If you find, on close self-examination, that you love yourself, your own importance, your position, your money, your household goods and clothes, your place in what you call “society,” more than the steady working for and following of Christ,--YOU ARE NOT A CHRISTIAN. That being the case, be brave about it! Say what you are, and do not pretend to be what you are not!