Editorial March 14, 1908 Issue

COMFORTED OF GOD

John B. Willis

It was the midnight hour, and to a sense of wakeful weariness there was added the deeper trouble of lone-wrestling with a most perplexing problem, through which human sense had brought about a rehearsal of Job's experience when he said, "I am full of tossings to and from unto the dawning of the day."

He recognized the incongruity and unworthiness of his subjection, the base bondage of his mood, the need of transforming thought to break the mesmerism of the swineherd, and he said, "I will arise and go to my father." Springing from his couch, he stepped to the window, and looking out on the marshaled hosts of Orion, he received the gentle rebuke of ten thousand stars, as they silently reminded him of the steadiness and reliability of the verities of being, the vastness of the arena of the divine concerns, the certitude of the accomplishment of the divine will, the triumph of infinite good. There came to him the thought of the poet,

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