It was no summer progress. A cold coming they had of it, at this time of the year; just, the worst time of the year, to take a journey, and specially a long journey, in. The ways deep, the weather sharp, the days short, the sun farthest off in solstitio brumali, the very dead of Winter.

These lines come from a Christmas sermon by Lancelot Andrewes (1555–1626), the celebrated Anglican bishop and court preacher whose richly patterned prose influenced later writers. Andrewes is describing the journey of the Magi to Bethlehem, emphasizing the physical hardship and seasonal bleakness of travel at midwinter. The Latin phrase “in solstitio brumali” (“at the winter solstice”) underscores the astronomical and symbolic depth of the scene: the sun is at its weakest and most distant. Andrewes’ sermons were preached before elite audiences (including at court) and later printed; this passage became especially famous in modern times after T. S. Eliot echoed it in his poem “Journey of the Magi.”

Andrewes turns the Nativity story into a vivid meditation on discomfort, delay, and spiritual perseverance. By insisting it was “no summer progress,” he strips away sentimental warmth and stresses that the search for Christ begins in hardship—muddy roads, sharp weather, short days, and the sun “farthest off.” The winter-solstice detail works both literally and metaphorically: the world is at its darkest point when the light of Christ is sought and found. The passage also exemplifies Andrewes’ rhetorical method—accumulation, repetition, and rhythmic clauses—to make the listener feel the weight of the journey and, by extension, the costliness of devotion.