Lastly and firstly, and in close compact with sweet domesticity and faithful friendship, stand the spiritual demands of our natures. We must have time to think and meditate. Just as the flowers need the darkness and the refreshing dew, the human soul requires its quiet hours, its season for meditation and rest. Whatever we may believe, whatever doubts we may entertain regarding the mysteries of the universe, who will maintain that the aspiring side of man is a delusion and an unreality? In the time--often merely minutes--which we give to contemplation and serious review of what we are doing, lies the secret of the wise plan, if not the execution. To go on helter-skelter from day to day without a purpose in our hearts resembles playing a hurdy-gurdy for a living without the hope of pence. The use of Sunday in this country has changed so radically in the last twenty-five years that every one is free to spend it as he will, subject to certain restrictions as to sport and entertainment in public calculated to offend those who would prefer stricter usages. But whether we choose to go to church or not, whether our aspirations are fostered in the sanctuary or the fresh air, the eternal needs of the soul must be provided for. If we give our spare hours and minutes merely to careless amusement, we cannot fail to degenerate in nobility of nature, just as we lose the hue of health when we sully the red corpuscles of the body with foul air and steam heat. Are we not nowadays, even the plain people, God bless them, too much disposed to believe that merely to be comfortable and amused and rested is the sole requirement of the human soul? It does need rest most of the time in this age of pressure, Heaven knows, and comfort and amusement are necessary. But may we not, even while we rest and are comfortable, under the blue sky or on the peaceful river, if you will, lift up our spirits to the mystery of the ages, and reach out once more toward the eternal truths? Merely to be comfortable and to get rested once a week will not bring those truths nearer. May we not, in the pride of our democracy, afford to turn our glances back to the pages of history, to the long line of mighty men kneeling before the altar with their eyes turned up to God, and the prayer of faith and repentance on their lips? Did this all mean nothing? Are we so wise and certain and far-seeing that we need not do likewise? The _Summer Problem_. I.