Hope

Hope “The Swimming Thought.” — You know what the New Zealanders call hope; they call it in their language “the swimming thought,” because it always floats and never sinks. You cannot drown it; it always keeps its head above the wave. When you think you have drowned the Christian’s hope, up it comes all dripping from the brine, and cries again, “Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him!” Hope is the nightingale that sings in the night; faith is the lark that mounts up towards heaven; but hope is the nightingale that cheers the valley in the darkness.

Hope of Immortality. — To-day we are like birds in the egg; so long as the shell is whole we are not free: death breaks the shell. Does the fledgling lament the dissolution of the shell? I never heard of a bird in its nest pining over its broken shell; no, its thought runs otherwise: to wings, and flight, and sunny skies. So let it be with us. This body will be dissolved: let it be so; it is meet it should be. We have been glad of it while we have needed it, and we thank God for the wondrous skll displayed in it; but when we no longer require it we shall escape from it as from imprisonment, and never wish to return to its narrow bounds.

The Fountain of Hope. — A rich man has a cistern full of riches, but a poor saint has got a fountain of mercy, and he is the richest who has a fountain. Now, if my neighbor be a rich man, he may have as much wealth as ever he pleases, it is only a cistern full, it will soon be exhausted; but a Christian has a fountain that ever flows, and let him draw, draw on forever, the fountain will still keep on flowing. However large may be the stagnant pool, if it be stagnant, it is but of little worth; but the flowing stream, tho it seem to be but small, needs but time, and it will have produced an immense volume of precious water. Thou are never to have a great pool of riches, they are always to keep on flowing to thee; “Thy bread shall be given thee, and thy water shall be sure.” As old William Huntingdon says, “The Christian has a hand-basket portion. Many a man, when his daughter marries, does not give her much, but he says to her, ‘I shall send you a sack of flour one day, and so-and-so the next day, and now and then a sum of gold; and as long as I live I will always send you something.” Says he, “She will get a great deal more than her sister, who has had a thousand pounds down. That is how my God deals with me; he gives to the rich man all at once, but to me day by day.” Ah, Egypt, thou wert rich when thy granaries were full, but those granaries might be emptied; Israel was far richer when they could not see their granaries, but only saw the manna drop from heaven, day by day. Now, Christian, that is thy portion — the portion of the fountain always flowing, and not of the cistern-full, and soon to be emptied.

Saved Through Blasted Hopes. — You have all heard the old story of the celebrated painter who was painting in St. Paul’s, and who, looking at his work, went gradually back, inch by inch, to get a view of it, so that he might see the excellence of its proportions, until his feet were just on the edge of the platform upon which he stood; and he would have fallen down and been dashed in pieces upon the pavement beneath, but just at that moment a workman who stood there, desirous to save his life, and not knowing how to do it, hit upon an expedient which proved to be a very wise one. Instead of shouting out to his master, “Sir, you are in danger,” which would most certainly have sent him backward, he took up a brush, and dipping it in a pot of paint, dashed it at’ the picture. The good man rushed forward in anger to chastise him; but when it was explained, he clearly saw that he had acted wisely.