“Hope, like the glimmering taper’s light, Adorns and cheers the way; And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray.” Hope protests against breaking down under discouragements. She inscribes her loveliest rainbows on your murkiest clouds. Christianity is adapted to this power. It unfolds an infinitely higher order of life—an eternity of happiness, the boundaries of which the largest hope mounted on her loftiest pinions cannot survey. The inhabitants of that heavenly world look back upon their trials as evils which exist only in recollection; and to heighten the transport, they will remember that God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. “Oft the big, unbidden tear, stealing down the furrowed cheek, Told in eloquence sincere, tales of woe they could not speak; But those days of weeping o’er—past this scene of toil and pain, They shall feel distress no more; never, never weep again. ’Mid the chorus of the skies, ’mid the angelic lyres above,— Hark! their songs melodious rise, songs of praise to Jesus’ love! Happy spirits! ye are fled where no grief can entrance find; Lulled to rest the aching head, soothed the anguish of the mind. All is tranquil and serene, calm and undisturbed repose; There no cloud can intervene, there no angry tempest blows. Every tear is wiped away, sighs no more shall heave the breast; Night is lost in endless day, sorrow in eternal rest.” Religion teaches you not to diminish hope by mourning the loss of dear children or Christian friends, but to cultivate it with the faith that they are now in heaven. “O, think that while you’re weeping here, The hand a golden harp is stringing; And, with a voice serene and clear, The ransomed soul, without a tear, The Saviour’s praise is singing. And think that all their pains are fled, Their toils and sorrows closed for ever, While He, whose blood for man was shed, Has placed upon His servant’s head A crown that fadeth never.” Christian hope maketh not ashamed. The wonders of Providence and grace will yet be completed.