In “Marble Faun,” Miriam, the broken-hearted singer, puts into a burst of song the pent-up grief of her soul. This was better, surely, than if she had let it forth in a wild shriek of pain. The religion of Christ would teach us to put into song every anguish and all sorrow. It would set to music our deepest, saddest experiences. It would have us sing even our heart's bitterest plaints. It gives us anthems rather than dirges for the utterance of our sorest griefs. It helps us to do this by revealing to our faith's vision something of beauty and blessing in every dark hour, something other eyes cannot see. It lets us hear in our deepest trials the voices of divine love, encouraging, cheering, assuring us. Surely the lesson is worth the learning. 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 and tears. They also honour God more. It is better for our own heart, too, to put our sorrows and pains into songs.