The esteemed Beirut writes:

The party given by the Tripoli society "Relief of the Destitute" on Saturday afternoon at the American School for Girls was one of those splendid literary occasions on which the young men and young women of Tripoli, with the refined taste and generous breeding for which they are known, bestowed a great deal of splendor and finish. The finest thing about this party was the cooperation of the sons of Tripoli, of every creed and community, in good works — their joining hands to extend help to the destitute, and their eagerness in the cause of relieving the distressed and the wretched.

At six o'clock precisely Mrs. Helene Jeha opened the party in the name of the society's president, welcoming the audience and speaking of the society's aim and its works in solid language, with beautiful delivery and sincere feeling. She then presented the first speaker of the evening, Mr. Musa Sulayman, director of the Arabic section of the preparatory division at the American University of Beirut, who delivered an excellent address on the subject "I Have Believed in Woman!", soaring in it as high as he pleased; and he was most happy in his survey of the mothers of mankind and of humanity, who nourished mankind and humanity with the loftiest, the most spacious, and the most resplendent of principles.

Then the poet of the evening, Mr. Elias Abu Shabaka, rose and recited a poem from among the finest of his verse, woven upon the pattern of the one composed by Badi' al-Zaman al-Hamadhani; he took possession of the audience with his splendid imagery and his fertile imagination, and his poem was a magnificent tale of the heroism, the fatherhood, the sonship, the pride, and the fierce honor for which the Arabs have been known.

Mr. Muhyi al-Din al-Nusuli was the last speaker of the evening, deliv-ering an address on the subject: "We Are in the Service of Woman."

There is no doubt that the young ladies of Tripoli — all of them belonging to noble families — excelled in the anthems they sang, in the melodies they played, and in the songs they performed, with an excellence that carried off the admiration of the audience, so that the hall rang again and again with applause.

An hour and a half went by, and the audience, whose number approached a thousand, was still asking for more; but the party's delightful program had come to an end, and the gathering broke up with everyone praising the ladies and young ladies of "Relief of the Destitute," and especially the lady who founded this society by her generous effort, her devotion, and her perseverance in working night and day — she is the mother of the noble citizen Mr. Tawfiq Faris. And the sons of Tripoli honored the delegation of the three speakers with an honoring that made them tongues speaking thanks and voicing praise, recording for Mrs. Salwa Faris and her noble husband, for the president and members of the Agricultural Improvement Company, and for their friend the physician Rasim Bey al-Dhawq, their fine hospitality and their inherited Arab generosity.

From the depths of the depths of man, ever since man has been, this fevered prayer has gone forth:

"My Lord... I believed in You: You create the thing out of nothing, and You open in the veins of the dust a spirit of Your spirit and a breath of Your breaths, and behold, the dust is a pulse of Your pulses; behold, the dust is a complete man in Your image and Your likeness!...

My Lord!... There is a thirst in me, and You have quenched me with Your blood; there is a hunger in me, and You have fed me from Your very liver; and a bewilderment enfolds me, so that I neither know nor understand...

My Lord... And yet I feel in the depths of the soul a lack writhing within a lack, an emptiness sinking upon an emptiness, an ease crying out in protest! So, my Lord!... I ask You in my own name — I, man, Your speaking statue of genius — to sate my craving, and to fill my being with one of Your storms of fire, showering me with a blaze of love and burning kisses, and tearing up from my roots the stillness of the soul and the wretchedness of solitude."

And there was morning and there was evening, and behold, the speaking statue of genius was cradling his dreams and his hopes in the arms of another speaking statue of genius... and the miracle was accomplished... and woman was!!...

And life breaks loose upon life, and death wrestles with death, and the world resounds with chants and trills of joy, in which there is something of the hoarse-ness of death and something of the wakefulness of life; and behold, the corners of history are radiant with love, thronged with religion, filled with faith; behold, the mountain passes of the ancient past are colored with