Arguments why we should STRENGTHEN OUR HOPE with directions 2/3

SECOND ARGUMENT.  Labour to strengthen thy hope of salvation, or thou wilt show thou little esteemest Christ and his salvation.  As we prize any good, so we labour more or less to assure ourselves of it.  If a prince should lose a pin from his sleeve, or a penny out of his purse, and one should bring him news they are found; the things are so inconsiderable that he would not care whether it were true or not. But if his kingdom lay at stake in the field, and intelligence comes that his army hath got the day and beat the enemy, O how he would long to have his hope, that is now raised a little, confirmed more strongly by another post!  Is heaven worth so little that you can be satisfied with a few probabilities and uncertain maybees you shall come thither?  Thou basely despiseth that blessed place if thou beest no more solicitous to know the truth of thy title to it.  When Micaiah seemed to give Ahab—now advancing his army against Ramoth-gilead—some hope of a victory, by bidding him ‘go up and prosper,’ the thing being pas¬sionately desired by the king, he fears the worst—as indeed he had reason, for the prophet's speech was ironical—and therefore cannot rest till he know more of this matter.  ‘And the king said unto him, How many times shall I adjure thee that thou tell me nothing but that which is true in the name of the Lord?’ I Kings 22:16.

           Maybe thou hast some loose wavering hopes of heaven floating in thy soul.  If now, thou didst think thy eternal woe lay in the truth or falsehood of that hope, certainly thou wouldst search thy heart by the word, and adjure thy conscience after an impartial review to tell thee the naked truth, what thy state is, and whether thou mayest in God’s name, and with the leave of his word, hope it shall be thy portion or not; and this thou wouldst do, not hypocritically, as that wretched king did—who adjured Micaiah to tell him the truth, and then would not believe him though he did it faithfully—but with great plainness of heart; it being about a business of no less importance than what shall become of thee to eternity.  Peter, when surprised with the tidings of Christ’s resurrection, though the report did not find such credit with him as it might, yet, by his speedy running to, and looking into, the sepulchre, he showed both how dearly he loved his Lord, as also how joyful a man he should be, if the news held true that he was alive.  Thus, Christian, though the promise of eternal life hath not hitherto produced such an assurance of hope that thou art the person that shalt undoubtedly enjoy it, yet show what appreciating thoughts thou hast of that blissful state, by endeavouring to strengthen thy hope and put thee out of doubt thereof.

           THIRD ARGUMENT.  Consider this also in the last place, that thou knowest not what stress thy hope may be put to before thou diest.  The wise mariner doth victual his ship for the longest day.  He reckons on foul weather and cross winds which may retard his voyage, and make it more troublesome, though some find it a shorter cut and fairer passage, and therefore he stores himself accordingly, knowing well it is easier carrying provision to sea than getting it there.  Non facilè inveniuntur in adversitate præsidia, quænon fuerint in pace quæsita—protection is not readily found in adversity, which has not been sought out in time of peace—a good speech of Austin.  God himself tells us we have ‘need of patience;’ he means great store of patience, ‘that after we have done the will of God, we may receive the promise,’ Heb. 10:36.  And if of patience, then of hope; because patience bears all on hope’s back.  Now, because we know not the certain degree of hope that will serve our turn—God having purposely concealed the weight of affliction and temptation he intends to lay on us—therefore we should never cease our endeavour to strengthen it. There are hard duties to be performed, and strong trials to be endured, and these require a hope proportionable.  We are to ‘hold fast...the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end,’ Heb. 3:6.  Now, will the Christian of weak hope do this?  He, alas! is like a leaky ship with a rich lading; the fear of sinking before she gets the port takes away the owner’s joy of the treasure she carries.  Bid such a one rejoice in his inheritance that is laid up in heaven for him, and he will tell you he questions whether ever he shall come there. Patient waiting for mercy prorogued and deferred is another hard duty, ‘It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord,’ Lam. 3:26.  Now weak hope is short-breathed, and cannot stay long with any quietness. Omne invalidum est querulum—weak persons are commonly hardest to please; soon peevish and froward if they have not what they would, and that when they desire it also.

Arguments why we should STRENGTHEN OUR HOPE with directions 1/3

           Labour, O ye saints! to strengthen your hope. There is, as a weak faith, so a wavering unsteadfast hope.  This you are by the diligent use of all means to establish and consolidate.  Now, then, hope is firm and solid when the Christian doth not fluctuate formidine opposti—with the fear of being opposed, but, by this anchor hold that hope hath on the promise, is kept from those dejections and tumultuous fears with which they that have no hope are swallowed up, and they whose hope is but weak are sadly dis¬composed and shaken.  Solidum est quod sui solius est plenum—that is a solid body which is compact and free from heterogeneal mixtures.  The more pure gold is from dross, and whatever is of a different na¬ture to itself, the more solid it is.  So hope, the more it is refined from groundless presumption on the one hand, or slavish fear and distrust on the other, the more solid and strong it is.  This in Scripture is called ‘the assurance of hope.’  Now to provoke you to a holy zeal in your endeavour after this, consider, FIRST. It is thy duty so to do.  SECOND. If thou do not thou wilt show thou little esteemest Christ and his salvation.  THIRD. Thou knowest not what stress thy hope may be put to before thou diest.

 ARGUMENTS why we should strengthen our hope. — FIRST ARGUMENT.  Consider it is thy duty so to do.  Indeed by the Papist’s doctrine, no man is bound to labour for such an assurance.  But whether we should believe God or them, judge ye.  What saith the Spirit of God, ‘We desire that every one of you do shew the same diligence to the full assurance of hope unto the end: that ye be not slothful, but followers of them who through faith and patience inherit the promises.’  Observe,

           First.  The thing he exhorts to endeavour for, —‘to the full assurance of hope.’  They whose hope is weak sail with but a scant side-wind.  The apostle would have them go before the wind, and be carried with a full gale to heaven, which then is done when the soul, like a sail spread to the wind, is so filled with the truth and goodness of the promise, that it swells into an assured hope of what is promised, and rejoiceth in a certain expectation of what it shall have when it comes to the shore of eternity, though it be now tossed and weather-beaten with a thousand temptations and trials in its passage thither.

           Second.  Observe whom he presseth this duty upon; not some few choice Christians, as an enterprise laid out for them above the rest of their fellow-soldiers, but every person that will prove himself a Christian.  ‘We desire that every one of you do show the same diligence,’ &c.  In our civil trade, and particular worldly calling, it were sinful for every poor man to propound such a vast estate to himself in his own desires as he sees some few—the wealthiest merchants in a city—have got by their trade, so as no less shall content him.  But in the spiritual trade of a Christian it is very warrantable for every Christian to covet to be as rich in grace as the best.  Paul himself will not think himself wronged if thou desirest to be as holy  man as himself was, and labourest after as strong a faith and steadfast a hope as he had; yea, thou oughtest not to content thyself with what thou hast, if there were but one degree of grace more to be had than what at present thou hast obtained.  And,

           Third.  Observe what he imputes the weakness of the saints’ grace to; not an impossibility of attain¬ing to more, but their sloth and laziness.  And there¬fore he opposeth this to that blessed frame of heart he so much wisheth them, ‘That ye be not slothful,’ Heb. 6:12.  Indeed it is the diligent hand makes rich; as in this world’s goods, so in this heavenly treasure also.

INSTANCES wherein the Christian should live up to his hopes 4/4

     Sixth Instance.  Thou livest up to thy hopes when, with thy rejoicing of hope, thou preservest an awful fear of God.  ‘The Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him, in those that hope in his mercy,’ Ps. 147:11.  We too often see that children forget to pay that respect and reverence which is due to their par­ents, when once the estate is made sure into them. And truly, though the doctrine of assurance cannot be charged with any such bitter fruit to grow naturally from it, as the Remonstrants and Papists would have us believe; yet we are too prone to abuse it; yea, the best of saints may, after they have the love of God with eternal life passed over to them under the privy-seal of hope’s assurance, be led so far into tempta­tion, as to fall foully, and carry themselves very undu­tifully.  Witness David and Solomon, whose saddest miscarriages were after God had obliged them by opening his very heart to them in such manifestations of his love to them, as few are to be found that had the like.  Both father and son are checked by God for this, and a blot left upon their history, on purpose to show what a sad accent this gave to their sin—that they fell after such discoveries of divine love made to them—and also to leave us instances not barely of human frailty, but of grace’s frailty in this life (and that in the most eminent saints, such as were penmen of holy writ), that when our hope grows into greatest assurance, and this assurance spreads itself into high­est rejoicing from the certainty of our expected glory, we should yet nourish a holy fear of God in our hearts, lest we grow crank and forget God in the abundance of our peace.  This holy fear will be to our joy as the continual dropping of water on the iron work in the fuller’s wheel—which keeps it from firing; or, as the pericardium with which the God of nature hath moated about the heart in our bodies, that by the water of it, the heart, which is perpetually in motion, might be kept from being inflamed into a distempered heat.

           The devil is pleased if he can at any time get a saint to sin, but he glorieth most when he can lay them in the dirt in their holiday clothes, as I may so say, and make them defile themselves when they have their garments of salvation on, I mean those which God hath in some more than ordinary discovery of himself clothed them withal.  If at such a time he can be too hard for them, then he hath, he thinks, a fair occasion given him to go, and insultingly show God what pickle his child is in, and hold up the Christian’s assurance and comfort mockingly—as they their brother’s coat to their father—besmeared with the blood and filth of some beastly sin he hath thrown him into, and ask God, ‘Is this the assurance thou hast given him of heaven? and this the garment of sal­vation which thou didst put on him?  See where he hath laid it, and what a case he hath made it in.’  O what gracious soul trembles not at the thought of putting such blasphemy into the mouth of the devil to reproach the living God by! That, Christian, is the be­loved child, and shall be most made of by his heav­enly Father, who sits not down to loiter in the sun­shine of divine love, but gathers up his feet the nimb­ler in the way of duty, because his God is so kind to make his walk more cheerful and comfortable than others find it, and who loseth not his reverential fear of God in God’s familiarity with him.  Moses is a rare instance for this.  Did ever the great God treat a mor­tal man, a saint in flesh, with the like familiarity and condescension, as he did that holy man, with whom he spake mouth to mouth, and before whom he caused all his goodness to pass? Ex. 34:6.  And how bears he this transcending act of grace?  Doth he grow bold, and forget his distance between God and him, by this low stoop of the divine Majesty to converse with him in such a humble manner, if I may so say? No; his heart was never in all his life more filled with the reverence of God than now.  He trembled, in­deed, and quaked more, it is very likely, on Mount Sinai; but his filial fear was as conspicuous now as then.  It is true, this extraordinary manifestation of those soul-ravishing attributes of God’s love and goodness—especially his pardoning mercy to him that knew himself a sinner, and at that time made much more sensible thereof by the terror which the dreadful promulgation of the law had left on his spirit—could not but exceedingly heighten his joy, and overrun his soul with a sweet love to so gracious a God.  Yet, was not Moses' awful fear of God drowned or lost in the high tide of these sweeter affections; for it follows, ‘and Moses made haste, and bowed his head toward the earth, and worshipped,’ ver. 8.  This favourite of heaven, mark how he shows his fear of God most, when God expresseth his love to him most.

INSTANCES wherein the Christian should live up to his hopes 3/4

           Fourth Instance.  Let thy hope of heaven master thy fear of death.  Why shouldst thou be afraid to die, who hopest to live by dying?  Is the apprentice afraid of the day when his time comes out?—he that runs a race, of coming too soon to his goal?—the pilot troubled when he sees his harbour?—or the betrothed virgin grieved when the wedding‑day approacheth? Death is all this to thee.  When that comes, thy in­den­ture expires, and thy jubilee is come.  Thy race is run, and the crown won—sure to drop on thy head when thy soul goes out of thy body.  Thy voyage, how troublesome soever it was in the sailing, is now hap­pily finished, and death doth but this friendly office for thee, to uncover and open the ark of thy body, that it may safely land thy soul on the shore of eter­nity at thy heavenly Father’s door—yea, in his sweet embraces, never to be put to sea more.  In a word, thy husband is come for thee, and knocks with death’s hand at thy door, to come forth unto him, that he may perform his promise, which, in the day of thy be­trothing, he made to thee; and thou lovest him but little, if thou beest not willing to be at the trouble of a remove hence, for to enjoy his blissful presence, in his Father’s royal palace of heaven, where such prep­aration is made for thy entertainment, that thou canst not know here, though an angel were sent on purpose to inform thee.

           O what tongue can express that felicity which infinite mercy bespeaks, infinite wisdom deviseth, in­finite merit purchaseth, and infinite power makes ready!  I have read that the Turks say, ‘They do not think we Christians believe heaven to be such a glori­ous place as we profess and talk of; for if we did, we would not be so afraid to go thither, as we see many that profess themselves Christians to be.’  It cannot be denied, but all inordinate fears of death betray great unbelief and little hope.  We do not look upon death under a right notion, and so we start at it; which, were we by faith but able to see through, and assure ourselves it comes to do us a good turn, we should feel as comfortably on the thoughts of it, as now we are scared at the apparition of it.  The horse eats that hay in the rack, which he is afraid of when a little lies at a distance on the road; because there he knows it, but on the way he doth not.  Christian, un­derstand aright what message death brings to thee, and the fear of it will be over.  It snatcheth thee in­deed from this world's enjoyments, but it leads thee to the felicities of another incomparably better.  And who, at a feast, will chide the servant that takes away the first course, of which enough is eaten, to make room for the second to be set on, that consists of far greater delicacies?

           Fifth Instance.  Then thou comportest with thy hope when thou livest in the joy of thy hope.  A sad uncheerful heart does not become a lively hope.  Let him follow his master with a heavy countenance, that looks to get nothing by his service.  Thou art out of this fear, and therefore wrongest both thyself and thy God too by thy disconsolate spirit. ‘Whose house are we, if we hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end,’ Heb. 3:6.  Christ takes no more delight to dwell in a sad uncheerful heart, than we in a dark melancholy house.  Open thy shuts therefore, and let in the light which sheds its beams upon thee from the promise, or else thy sweet Saviour will be gone.  We do not use to entertain our friends in a dark room, or sit by those that visit us, mopish and melancholic, lest they should think we are weary of their company.  Christ brings such good news with him, as may bespeak better welcome with thee than a dejected countenance and a disconsolate spirit.  I tell thee, Christian, could such a message be carried to the damned as might give them any hope—though never so little—of salvation, it would make hell itself a lightsome place, and tune those miserable souls into a rejoicing temper in the midst of their present tor­ments.  Blush then, and be ashamed, O ye drooping saints! that a few thin clouds of some short afflictions, coming over your heads, should so wrap you up in the darkness of your spirits, as that the hope of heaven, whither you look at last to come, should not be able, in a moment, to dispel and turn your sorrow into a ravishment of joy and comfort.

INSTANCES wherein the Christian should live up to his hopes 2/4

           Thou hast not, Christian, a weightier argument to knock down all temptations to sin, nor a more honourable way to get the victory of them, than by setting thy hope to grapple with them.  I confess it is well when this enemy is worsted, what hand soever he falls by; though it be the fear of hell that clubs it down in the lives of men, it is better than not at all.  Yet I must tell you, that as the Israelites’ state was poor and servile, when they were fain to borrow the Philis­tines’ grindstone ‘to sharpen every man his axe and mattock,’ I Sam. 13:20, so it speaks the Christian to be in no very good state as to his spiritual affairs when he is fain to use the wicked man’s argument to keep him from sinning, and nothing will set an edge upon his spirit to cut through temptation, but what the un­circumcised world themselves use. Thou, Christian, art of a nobler spirit, and more refined temper than these, I trow. And as we have a finer stone to sharpen a razor with that we use for a butcher’s knife, so, certainly, a more spiritual and ingenuous argument would become thee better, to make thee keen and sharp against sin, than what prevails with the worst of men sometimes to forbear at least acting their wicked­ness.  Go thou, Christian, to thy hope, and while the slavish sinner scares and terrifies himself from his lust with fire and brimstone, do thou shame thyself out of all acquaintance with it from the great and glorious things thou lookest for in heaven. Is it a sin of sensual pleasure that assaults thy castle?  Say then to thy soul, ‘Shall I play the beast on earth, that hope to be such a glorious creature in heaven?’  Shall that head be found now in a Delilah’s lap, that ere long I hope to be laid in Abraham’s bosom?  Can I now yield to defile that body with lust and vomit, which is the gar­ment my soul hopes to wear in heaven?  O no! Avaunt, Satan!  I will have nothing to do with thee, or anything that will make me unmeet for that blessed place and holy state I wait for.

           Third Instance.  Let thy hope of heaven moder­ate thy affections to earth.  ‘Be sober, and hope,’ saith the apostle, I Peter 1:13.  You that look for so much in another world, may very well be content with a little in this.  Nothing more unbecomes a heavenly hope than an earthly heart.  You would think it an un­seemly thing for some rich man, that hath a vast es­tate, among the poor gleaners at harvest‑time, as busy to pick up the ears of corn that are left in the field, as the most miserable beggar in the company.  O how all the world would cry shame of such a sordid‑spirited man!  Well, Christian, be not angry if I tell thee that thou dost a more shameful thing to thyself by far; if thou, that pretendest to hope for heaven, beest as eager in the pursuit of this world's trash as the poor carnal wretch is who expects no portion but what God hath left him to pick up in the field of this world. Certainly thy hope is either false, or at best very little. The higher that the summer sun mounts above the horizon, the more force it bears both to clear and also heat the air with his beams.  And if thy hope of salva­tion were advanced to any ordinary pitch and height in thy soul, it would scatter these inordinate desires after this world with which now thou art choked up, and put thee into a greater heat of affection after heaven, than now thou feelest to things below.

           I remember Augustine, relating what sweet dis­course passed once between his mother and himself concerning the joys of heaven, breaks forth into this apostrophe, ‘Lord, thou knowest quàm viluit nobis in illo die hic mundus—how vile and contemptible this sorry world was in our eye in that day when our hearts were warmed with some sweet discourse of that bless­ed place.’  And I doubt not but every gracious person finds the same by himself; the nearer to heaven he gets in his hopes, the further he goes from earth in his desires. When he stands upon these battlements of heaven, he can look down upon this dunghill world as a nigrum nihil, a little dust‑heap next to nothing.  It is Scultetus’ observation, that though there are many blemishes by which the eminent saints and servants of God recorded in Scripture are set forth as instan­ces of human frailty, yet not one godly man in all the Scripture is to be found, whose story is blotted with the charge of covetousness.  If that hold true, which, as yet, I am not able to disprove, we may wonder how it comes about that it should, now‑a‑days, be called the professors’ sin, and become a common charge laid by the profane upon those that pretend to heaven more than themselves.  O woe to those wretched men who, by their scandalous practices in this kind, put the coal into wicked men’s hands, with which they now black the names of all the godly, as if to be covetous were a necessary consequent of profession.

INSTANCES wherein the Christian should live up to his hopes 1/4

           First Instance.  In your company.  Man is a so­ciable creature—made for fellowship.  And what com­pany is fit for thee to consort with, but those of the same breeding and hopes with thyself?  The saints are a distinct society from the world.  ‘Let ours also learn to maintain good works,’ Titus 3:14.  ‘Ours,’ i.e. of our fellowship.  And it becomes them to seek their com­pany among themselves.  That of Peter and John is observable, ‘being let go, they went to their own com­pany,’ Acts 4:23.  When among the ungodly world they made account they were not in their own company, and therefore stayed no longer than needs must among them.  There were enough surely in the land of Canaan with whom Abraham might have associ­ated; but he knew they were not company for him to be linked to in any intimacy of acquaintance, and therefore it is said of him, that ‘he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a strange country, dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise,’ Heb. 11:9.  We find him indeed confederate with Mamre, the Amorite, and Eshcol, and Aner, his brethren, Gen. 14:13, which presup­poseth more than ordinary acquaintance.  But these, in all probability, were proselytes, and had, by Abraham’s godly persuasions, renounced their idolatry, to worship with him the true God.  And we may the ra­ther be induced to think so, because we find them so deeply engaged with Abraham in battle with those idolatrous neighbour princes, which, had they them­selves been idolaters, it is like they would not have done for a stranger, and him of a strange religion also. We find how dearly some of the saints have paid for their acquaintance with the wicked, as Jehoshaphat for his intimacy with Ahab, and many others.  And if, knowing this, we shall yet associate ourselves with such, we cannot in reason look to pay less than they have done; yea, well, if we come off so cheap, because we have their follies recorded to make us wiser.

           O consider, Christian, whither thou art going in thy hopes!  Is it not to heaven? and do not men seek for such company as go their way?  And are the wicked of thy way?  When heaven’s way and hell’s meet in one road, then, and not till then, can that be. And if thy companion will not walk in heaven-way, what wilt thou do that walkest with him?  It is to be feared thou must comply too much in his way.  In a word, Christian, thy hope points to heaven; and is it not one thing thou hopest for, when thou comest there, to be delivered from all company with the wicked? and what thou then hopest for, doth thou not now pray for?  Sure enough thou dost, if a true saint. Whatever is the object of a saint’s hope is the subject of his prayer.  As oft as thou sayest, ‘Thy kingdom come,’ thou prayest thus much.  And will hoping and praying to be delivered from them, stand with throw­ing thyself upon them, and intimate familiarity with them?

           Second Instance.  Then thou comportest with thy hopes of salvation, when thou labourest to be as holy in thy conversation as thou art high in thy expec­tation.  This the apostle urgeth from the condescency of the thing: ‘What manner of persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation and godliness; looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God,’ II Peter 3:11, 12.  Certainly it becomes such to be holy even to admiration, who look for such a blessed day! We hope then to be like the angels in glory, and therefore should, if possible, live now like angels in holiness.  Every believing soul is Christ’s spouse.  The day of conversion is the day of espousals, wherein she is contracted and betrothed by faith to Christ; and as such, lives in hope for the marriage-day, when he shall come and fetch her home unto his Father’s house—as Isaac did Rebecca into his mother’s tent —there to cohabit with him and live in his sweet em­braces of love, world without end.  Now, would the bride have her bridegroom find her, when he comes, in her fluttery and vile raiment?  No, sure.  ‘Can a bride forget her attire?’ Jer. 2:32.  Was it ever known that a bride forgot to have her wedding‑clothes made against the marriage‑day? or to put them on when she looks for her bridegroom’s coming?  Holiness is the ‘raiment of needle-work,’ in which, Christian, thou art to be ‘brought unto thy king and husband,’ Ps. 45:14.  Wherefore is the wedding-day put off so long, but because this garment is so long a making?  When this is once wrought, and thou ready dressed, then that joyful day comes: ‘The marriage of the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself ready,’ Rev. 19:7.

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Second Duty.  Live up to thy hopes, Christian. Let there be a decorum kept between thy principles and thy practices, thy hope of heaven and walk on earth.  The eye should direct the foot.  Thou lookest for salvation; walk the same way thy eye looks.  This is so often pressed in the word, as shows both its ne­cessity and difficulty.  Some times we are stirred up to act ‘as becometh saints,’ Rom. 16:2; Eph. 5:3.  Sometimes ‘as becometh the gospel of Christ,’ Php. 1:27. Sometimes ‘as becometh those who profess godli­ness,’ I Tim. 2:10.  There is a JΠBDXB@<—a decorum, and comely behaviour, which, if a Christian doth not observe in his walking he betrays his high calling and hopes unto scorn and contempt.  To look high, and to live low, O how ridiculous it appears to all men! When a man is dressed on purpose to be laughed at and made a jeering‑stock, they put on him some­thing of the king and something of the beggar, that, by this patchery of mock‑majesty with sordid baseness to­gether, he may appear the greater fool to all the company.  And certainly, if the devil might have the dressing of a man, so as to cast the greatest shame and ignominy upon him, yea, upon Christ and the profession of his gospel, he could not think of a read­ier way than to persuade a wretch to pretend to high and glorious hopes of heaven, and then to have noth­ing suitable to the high‑flown hopes in his conversa­tion, but all base and unworthy of such royal claims. If ye should see one going into the field with a helmet of brass on his head, but a wooden sword in one hand, and a paper shield on the other, and the rest of his armour like to these, you would expect he was not likely to hurt his enemies, except they should break their sides with laughing at him.  Such a goodly spec­tacle is the brag professor, who lifts up his head on high with a bold expectation of salvation, but can show never a grace beside to suit with the great hope he hath taken up; he may make the devil sport, but never do him any great hurt, or himself good.

Question.  But may be you will ask, How is the Christian to live up to his hopes?

Answer.  I answer, in general, he is to be careful to do nothing in which he may not freely act his hope, and from the promise expect that God will, for Christ’s sake, both approve the action, and reward his person for it.  Ask thy soul this question seriously before thou engagest in any work, ‘May I hope that God will bid me good speed?  Can I look for his countenance in it, and his blessing on it?’  It is very unworthy of a Christian to do anything sneakingly, as if he were afraid God or his conscience should be privy to his work.  ‘Whatsoever is not of hope is sin, because it cannot be of faith.’  O how would this hedge in the Christian’s heart from all by-paths!  Pos­sibly thou hast a grudge against thy neighbour.  The fire is kindled in thy heart, though it flames not presently out into bitter words and angry behaviour; and thou art going to pray.  Ask now thy soul, wheth­er God will accept that sacrifice which is kindled with such strange fire?  Yea, bid thy soul bethink herself how thy hopes of pardoning and saving mercy from God can agree with thy wrathful unforgiving spirit towards thy brother?  Certainly, as the sun cannot well be seen through a disturbed air, so neither can the eye of hope well see her object—heaven’s salva­tion—when the soul is tumultuous and roiled with anger and unchristian passion.

But, to instance in some particulars wherein you must comport with your hopes of salvation.