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cJVLUSIG LOVERS’ PHONOGRAPH AXEL B. JOHT^SOl^, Managing Editor Published by THE PHONOGRAPH PUBLISHING CO., Inc. General Offices and Studio: 47 Hampstead Road, Jamaica Plain, Boston, Mass. Telephone Jamaica: 5054: Cable Address: “Phono” THE PHONOGRAPH MONTHLY REVIEW appears on the twenty-eighth of each month. All material is fully protected by copy- right and may be reproduced only by permission. Yearly subscription price $4.00 in the United States and $5.00 in Canada and other foreign countries, postage prepaid. Single copies 35 cents. All communications should be addressed to the Managing Editor at the Studio, 47 Hampstead Road, Jamaica Plain, Boston, Mass. All unsolicited contributions must be accompanied by a self-addressed, stamped envelope. All checks and money orders should be made out to THE PHONO- GRAPH PUBLISHING CO., Inc. Rrttttr AiuimtutB Sorntno By REVEREND HERBERT BOYCE SATCHER NE starlit night long ago, over the Judean hills, there echoed the chiming of a music that has not ever ceased. Down the long flight of the years, minstrels have kept alive, and have re-created, anew for each new generation, the antiphon of angels and shepherds. Still an awe- struck world kneels in adoration, though it has yet to realize the full import of that song of the angels, and though it draws near the manger with motives not so simple or unmixed as those which attended the questing of the shepherds. Legion and immemorial custom have joined in twining chaplets of beauty about the manger- cradle of the infant King. Perhaps all of us who have our habitation in the Western world, whether or no we are direct followers of Him, either consciously or unconsciously join at this time in the glad refrain — “Venite Ad or emus Domino.” Unless we can in some measure chant this song with sincerity, then our gifts to each other are but barren gestures, and represent only hopeless surrender to the demands of a rapacious commercialism. The Christ-Child is the gift of God to a world which sorely needs what He rep- resents—peace and good-will. In presenting gifts to each other on His birthday, first of all we honor Him, and then we communicate what there is of Him in us to those who receive our gifts. The rarest flowers of human genius, the choicest treas- ures of the animal, vegetable, and mineral king- doms, have been offered in thankful devotion to celebrate the Blessed Birthday. All have sung their “Adoremus.” A prophet of old once said that the pine tree, the fir, and the box together should beautify the place of His sanctuary. When the religion of the Christ-Child spread over the Northern world, the old prophets’ words took wings, and the living verdure of evergreen forests came every year at Christmas time to brighten the drab splendor of those stately forests of stone that were the Gothic Cathedrals. The old gods were dead; Odin and Thor and Freia had vanished in the twilight of the Dark Ages. In their stead reigned the Babe of Bethlehem, around whose altars now they banked the holly, the mistletoe, the pine, and the laurel. So from the forests of the Gothic North rang an “Adoremus.” See last page for Table of Contents Copyright, 1929. by the Phonograph Publishing Company, Inc.