Vulcan was always trying his skill, and he made many wonderful and beautiful things. One day he invited the gods to see his latest creation. Here stood a beautiful figure, resembling Venus in beauty. The gods were delighted with his work, and decided each to bestow upon the woman some excellent gift.

Minerva gave skill in handicraft, Mercury gave wit in conversation, Venus the power to please, the Graces added charm to her beauty, and Jupiter at last gave life and immortality. Because of these many gifts, she was named Pandora, a Greek word meaning “all gifts.”

The gods sent Pandora to Prometheus and Epimetheus, the brothers who loved mankind. Prometheus would not receive the lovely maiden, for he knew the gods did not love him and he feared their gifts. But Epimetheus welcomed her to his home.

For some time they lived happily, but trouble came to them because of Pandora’s curiosity. In the palace of Epimetheus was a quaintly carved box. Pandora had wondered what was in it, for Epimetheus did not know.

“The winged messenger brought it,” he told her, “and said that it contained a secret of the immortal gods. We must not open it, dear Pandora, for mortals should not know the secrets of the immortals.” But Pandora was not to be satisfied. Day after day the longing grew upon her to open the box. She believed it contained beautiful garments or ornaments, and she said to herself: “Why should the gods leave the box here, if we must not open it? There are many places where they could have hidden it.” So she persuaded herself that she would not be doing wrong to open the box, although a little voice seemed to warn her not to disobey.

Slowly she approached the box. The figures upon it seemed to smile upon her. She thought she would open it just a little and peep in. Poor Pandora! The moment she lifted the cover, all the sorrow and sickness and sin which had been shut up in this wonderful box, flew out and winged their way all over the earth.

Pandora was overcome with remorse and let the cover fall. In the midst of her grief, she heard a sweet voice say, “Pandora, dear Pandora, do not grieve so; let me out to comfort you.”

“No, indeed,” replied Pandora; “too many of your sisters and brothers have I let out already.”

But the voice persisted, and was so kind and gentle that at last Pandora yielded, and Hope came forth to comfort and help man to endure all the evils of this life. In sickness or sorrow, hope points to happier to-morrows, and when we have done wrong and repent, hope encourages us to do what we know is right.