THE MYSTERY OF NIGHT. 39 



and in its sleep is ministered to as perfectly as if it 

 were the only created thing. 



When one stands on the shores of night and looks 

 off on that mighty sea of darkness in which a world 

 lies engulfed, there is no thought but worship and 

 no speech but silence. Face to face with immensity 

 and infinity, one travels in thought among the shin 

 ing islands that rise up out of the fathomless shad 

 ows, and feels everywhere the stir of a life which 

 knows no weariness and makes no sound, which 

 pervades the darkness no less than the light, and 

 makes the night glorious as the day with its garni 

 ture of constellations ; and even as one waits, 

 speechless and awestruck, the morning star touches 

 the edges of the hills, and a new day breaks re 

 splendent in the eastern sky. 



