Jesus told us that the night cometh when no man can work. He, the dayspring from on high who came to give light to them that sit in darkness and the shadow of death, who was proclaimed as the light come to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of his people, told us—what?—that the night cometh. Others had told us before of this night. Nox est perpetua una dormienda, ‘ there is one everlasting night in which we must sleep,’ but it was not the same message. Catullus knew not the dayspring from on high, nor of the world where there is no sun, for the Lamb is the light thereof. He knew only of the earthly day with its changeable sun in a cloudy heaven. In his soul there was only the pale light of reason amid the clouds of passion. All that he saw would be swallowed up in that one everlasting night of death, where there would be no loneliness and no fellowship, for there would be nothing. Our last night will not be like that; it will be followed by a day and ‘the Lamb is the light thereof.’ It will not be a night of annihilation, an end of all things, but a night of refreshment, of preparation, of vigil, a night, though, most certainly, dark and when no man can worrk. It will, too, be a night of suffering.