In “Marble Faun,” Miriam, the brokenhearted singer, puts into a burst of song the pent-up grief of her soul. This was better, surely, than if she had let forth a wild shriek of pain.

It is nobler to sing a victorious song in time of trial than to lie crushed in grief. Songs bless the world more than wails. It is better for our own heart, too, to put our sorrows and pains into songs. “We shall conquer by song.”

“Our minister is a skylark Christian,” boasted one of his people. Fine bird! It sings morning, noon, and evening; sings as it springs from the flowery sod; sings when the ground is white with snow. What a song, too!—a shower of melody and infinite sweetness—with no undertone of pain.

If we could only realize the full truth and blessedness of our faith we should continually go up and down singing, until one fine day we would go up singing—up, up, beyond the sun—and come down no more, lost in the eternal light!

Help me to make of all my sorrows music for the world!

Turn your troubles into treasure, Turn your sorrows into song; Then all men will know the measure, In which you to Christ belong.

When they see your bright behavior Under provocation great, They may ask what mighty Savior Can impart that happy state.

Paul and Silas in the prison, With their feet fast in the stocks, Praised their glorious Lord, arisen, Till the earthquake rent the rocks.

There was none to join their singing, So the earthquake roared “Amen!” And glad chains fell down a-ringing, As their voices rang again!

Oh, then sing with us His praises When there seems least cause to praise; Faith the sweetest anthem raises When the darkness hides God’s ways;

He brings forth His “new creation” Only there where ends “the old.” Let us praise Him for salvation, When all feels most dead and cold.

My soul, keep up thy singing, Turn thy sorrows into song.

ARTHUR S. BOOTH-CLIBBORN

Let every sigh be changed into a Hallelujah! OTTO STOCKMAYER

“None might enter into the king’s gate clothed with sackcloth” (Esther 4:2 KJV).