As the influence of the sun upon the earth; or the light of the moon upon the blackness of night; so is hope to the soul. It is hope that enkindles the spirits when dimmed by disappointments, and chilled by the cold touch of despair. It is the boon of heaven to man, and serves as a faithful pilot to guide him through the dark avenues of life, nor ever shrink from the parts assigned it. Mankind are all inspired by this kind soother of anxious toil - it is coeval with our creation, and as lasting as our existence. In childhood it amuses; in youth it encourages and animates; in manhood it promises greater preferments and more eminent distinctions; and in the declivity of life, it strengthens and supports - it strews roses on our path way to the tomb, and although the pleasures and allurements of earth may cheat, hope still clings to us with enthusiastic fondness; nor does it wane with the decline of our existence, 'but travels through nor quits us when we die.' Sweet harbinger of joy! Life without thee, were a world without light - a deathlike song - a frightful dream! Where could we flee in adversity but to thee! When sorrow and sadness pour upon us like a mighty deluge - when grief corrodes within the breast - when cares perplex the mind, and disappointments bring their train of melancholy, or despair fixes her talons deep upon the heart; it is hope alone that can light up the dark paths of life, and bear us up from shrinking under the heavy hand of affliction. A well founded hope presents the future illuminated by its own unfading radiance; it refers us to a nobler world than this - to the beautiful shores of immortality; and when the last convulsive throb of nature ceases to beat within the breast, hope with radiant finger points to realms of ever lasting felicity and joys unspeakable.
-The Evening and the Morning Star