Hope

“This is I he rest wherewith ye may cause the weary to rest, and this is the rcfresliing” —

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“ILct Esraclfjope in tfjc ILoit.” — Ps. cxxx. 7.

Hope opens its bright vista-view through the EUm pahns — the morning dew-drops drenching their fronds and sparkUng with diamond lustre in the rising sun! “Hope / Who is insensible to the music of that word? What bosom has not kindled under its utterance? Poetry has sung of it, music has warbled it, oratory has lavished on it its bewitching strains. Pagan mythology, in her vain but beautiful dreams, said that when all other divinities fled from the world, Hope, with her elastic step and radiant countenance and lustrous attire, lingered behind. The weeping Hebrews, in the day of their exile, did not unstring the harps of Zion or break them to pieces. No; they hung them, tuneless indeed and mute, but still unmutilated, on the willowed banks of the streams of Babylon. Why? because Hope cheered them with the thought that these silent melodies would once more awake, when God, in His own good time, would “turn again their captivity as streams in the south.” Hope! well may we personify thee lighting up thy altar-fires in this dark world, and dropping a

N live coal into many a desolate heart; gladdening the sick-chamber with visions of returning health; illuminating with rays brighter than the sunbeam the captive’s cell; crowding the broken slumbers of the soldier, by his bivouac-fire, with pictures of his sunny home and his own joyous return. Hope! drying the tear on the cheek of woe; as the black clouds of sorrow break and fall to the earth, arching the descending drops with thine own beauteous rainbow! Ay, more, standing with thy lamp in hand by the gloomy realms of Hades, kindling thy torch at Nature’s funeral pile, and opening vistas through the gates of glory! Beautifully says a gifted writer of the sister country: —

“Where’er my paths
On earth shall lead, I’ll keep a nesting- bough
For Hope — the song-bird, and, with cheerful step,
Hold on my pilgrimage, remembering where
Flowers have no autumn-languor, Eden’s gate
No flaming sword to guard the tree of life.

Yes, if Hope, even with reference to present and finite things, be an emotion so joyous; if uninspired poetry can sing so sweetly of its delights, what must be the believers hope, the hope which has God for its object and heaven for its consummation? “I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in His word do I hope.” “Let Israel hope in the Lord.”

This lofty grace, indeed, at times, requires stern discipline to develop its noble proportions. It is often the child of tribulation. The apostle traces its pedigree, ^’■Tribulation icorketh patience; and patience experience; and experience hope” (Rom. V. 3, 4). It would appear as if (recurring to the figure already employed), lik-e the rainbow in the natural heavens, Hope specially loves to span the moral firmament with its triumphal arch, in the cloud of tribulation.

But, heaven-born, it is heaven-ward, too, in its aspiration. It is generally represented by the sculptor’s chisel as a beautiful female form, with wings ready to be extended in flight. The safety of the timid bird is to be on the wing. If its haunt be near the ground — if it fly low — it exposes itself to the fowler’s net or snare. If we remain grovelling on the low ground of feeling and emotion, we shall find ourselves entangled in a thousand meshes of doubt and despondency, temptation and unbeUef “But surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of that which hath a wing” (Prov. i. 17; marginal reading). “They that wait {or hope) in the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as eagles” (Isa. xl. 31). “I will hope continually,” says David, “and will yet praise Thee more and more” (Ps. lxxi. 14). Again using a kindred emblem — the bird in the tempest rushing for shelter under the mother’s wing — “Thou hast bee7i my help, therefore under the shadow of Thy wings will I rejoice” (Ps. lxiii. 7). The Believer is a “prisoner,” but a “prisoner of hope.” The gospel is a “gospel of hope.” Its message is called “the good hope through grace.” The “helmet of salvation” is the helmet of hope. The “anchor of the soul” is the anchor of hope. The believer “rejoices in hope.” Christ is in him “the hope of glory.” Hope peoples to him the battlements of heaven with sainted ones in the spirit-land. He “sorrows not as others, who have no hope.” When death comes, Hope cheers the final hour; — “Now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in Thee.” Hope stands with her torch over his grave, and in the prospect of the dust returning to its dust, he says, “My flesh shall rest in hope.” Hope is one of the three guardian graces that conduct him to the heavenly gate. Now abideth these three, “Faith, Hope, and Love;” and if it be added, “the greatest of these is Love,” it is because Hope and her companion finish their mission at the celestial portal! They proceed no further; they go back to the world, to the wrestlers in the earthly conflict. Faith returns to her drooping hearts, to undo heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go free. Hope goes to her dungeon vaults, her beds of sickness, her chambers of bereavement and sorrow. To take Faith or Hope to heaven, would be to take the physician to the sound man, or to offer crutches to the strong, or to help to light the meridian sun with a tiny candle; Faith is then changed to sight, and Hope to full fruition. Love alone holds on her infinite mission. Faith and Hope are her two soaring pinions. She drops them as she enters the gates of glory. The watcher puts out his beacon when the sun floods the ocean; the miner puts out his lamp when he ascends to the earth. Hopes taper light is unneeded in that world where “the sun shall no more go down, neither for brightness shall the moon withdraw itself, but where the Lord our God shall be an everlasting light, and the days of our mourning shall be ended.”

“I dwell here in content,

Thankful for tranquil days;
And yet my eyes grow dim,

As still I gaze and gaze
Upon a mountain pass

That leads — or so it seems — To some far happier land

Beyond the world of dreams.”

“On we haste, to home invited,
There with friends to be united
In a surer bond than here:
Meeting soon, and met for ever!
Glorious Hope! forsake us never,
For thy glimmering light is dear,

“Ah, the way is shining clearer,
As we journey ever nearer
To the everlasting Home.
Friends who there await our landing,
Comrades, round the throne now standing.
We salute you, and we come!”

NOW THE GOD OF HOPE FILL YOU WITH ALL JOY ANU

PEACE IN BELIEVING, THAT YE MAY ABOUND

IN HOPE THROUGH THE POWER OF

THE HOLY GHOST.”