angels came and comforted Jesus after His temptation, so they will comfort you. I remember an old story told in song which interested me in my boyhood, crystallizing around the sentence "Even this shall pass away." The story-telling poet says:

Once in Persia reigned a king
Who upon his signet-ring
Graved a maxim true and wise,
Which, if held before his eyes,
Gave him counsel at a glance
Fit for every change and chance,
Solemn words, and these are they:
"Even this shall pass away."

Trains of camels through the sand
Brought him gems from Samarcand;
Fleets of galleys through the seas

Brought him pearls to match with these,
But he counted not his gain

Treasures of the mine or main;

"What is wealth?" the king would say;

"Even this shall pass away."

In the revels of his court,
At the zenith of the sport,
When the palms of all his guests
Burned with clapping at his jests,

He, amid his figs and wine,

Cried, "Oh, loving friends of mine! Pleasures come, but not to stay;

'Even this shall pass away.'

Fighting on a furious field,
Once a javelin pierced his shield,
Soldiers, with a loud lament,
Bore him bleeding to his tent,
Groaning from his tortured side,
"Pain is hard to bear," he cried,
"But with patience, day by day,
'Even this shall pass away.'

Towering in the public square,
Twenty cubits in the air,

Rose his statue carved in stone.
Then the king, disguised, unknown,
Stood before his sculptured name,
Musing meekly, "What is fame?
Fame is but a slow decay-
'Even this shall pass away.'

Struck with palsy, sere and old,
Waiting at the Gates of Gold,
Said he with his dying breath,
"Life is done, but what is death?''
Then, in answer to the king,
Fell a sunbeam on his ring,
Showing, by a heavenly ray,
"Even this shall pass away."

THE TREASURES OF NIGHT

"And the darkness He called Night."-Gen. 1:5.

N all languages night is the symbol for gloom and suffering. An allegory in the old Jewish Talmud teaches that the demons are all children of four daughters of Night --Lilith, Naama, Agrath, and Mahalath. Their assembling-place was on Mount Nishpah, the Mount of Twilight toward the north. King Solomon ruled them all and made them do his pleasure. These four daughters of the night, the mothers of the demons, and sources of all the vices that degrade and devastate the nature of man, were described as follows: Lilith is ignorance, the mortal foe of childhood and of all instruction. Naama is false pleasure, the mortal foe of all self-discipline, the demonmother of the wide-spread shame and horrible misery caused by every form of drink and impurity. Agrath is she who fills the world with foul fiction and every form of corrupting literature. Mahalath is the

mortal foe of pure religion and undefiled, the demon-mother of superstition and pharisaism, and of every form of false religion. The offspring of these demon-mothers meet on the dark and dreary mountains and go to the far north-that is, to the region of death and ruin. But Solomon can subdue them and make them serve his will. Canon Farrar says that Christianity with the help of God's grace can overcome these daughters of the night; can expel the curse of Lilith, or Ignorance, by a large and loving Christian education; it can make Naama, or Pleasure, the handmaid not of pollution, but of innocence and noble selfcontrol; it can make Agrath, Literature and Art, the minister to purity and holiness; it can purge Mahalath, or False Religion, from formalism and hollowness and help her to bring forth the fruits of the Spirit which grow on the tree of life in the Paradise of God. It can destroy the offspring of night and fill the world with the "children of the day."

But there is another view in regard to night, and upon that path I wish to lead our thoughts at this time. The purpose of the

night is as benevolent and loving on the part of God as that of the day. I think it will do us good to study the treasures of the night. David found that "Night unto night showeth knowledge." And I think we shall find

that to be true.

I

Night recalls us to a keen sense of the individuality of our own souls, and their responsibility to God. In these days more than ever we live in a crowd. In the rush and stress of life, when the street is full of noise, and the telephone-bell rings in your ear, or messengers call you here and there, it is easy to forget the solemn responsibility which is on you for your own personality. We come to feel that somehow we are a part of the town, a part of a class, a part of civilization, and we count ourselves in with the great crowd; but night singles us out from the crowd, and in that is a great blessing. Cecil Wright well says that a place in life must be kept for intervals of quiet, stolen from the noise of life, otherwise