I. I am to make some observations on the NATURE OF THIS HOPE IN GOD.

The hope of which we are to speak, is nearly allied to that "trust in God," that "faith in God," on which the scriptures lay so much stress. I do not here understand merely the expectation occasionally formed of particular blessings, of which we stand in need. I consider it rather as describing the habitual state and temper of the pious man's mind. God is "his hope; "God is "his refuge, whereunto he always resorts; God is "the portion," the support, "the dwelling place" of his soul. His mind is "staid upon God." In times of prosperity, the ultimate object of his rejoicing, is not the multitude of his riches, but the favour of the living God: and in the time of adversity, he is "not greatly moved," because, let what may be torn from him,-his God,-his portion, his all, is immoveably secured. In Him he hopes his expectation is from Him:" he "trusts in him at all times:" and by this trust he is supported in the prospect of whatever he may have to encounter, in the vast unknown of fu

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God he could enjoy

turity. Without hope in nothing in life; and with it, he can go down undismayed to the grave and enter into eternity. God is the strength of his heart and his portion for ever."

It is a hope which supposes its possessor to feel that he is poor, weak, foolish, and sinful: but it proceeds upon the assurance that God is rich, mighty, wise, and merciful: that he never failed, and never will fail, them that put their trust in him. Prayer is its voice, its very breath. It vents itself in prayer; by prayer it betakes itself to God at all seasons. A hope in God, which can exist without prayer, is but presumption and delusion. It closely connects with submission to his will. It does not vainly wish to choose for itself, and repine if the dispensations of the Almighty are contrary to what it had expected and desired. It commits itself to him: firmly believing that all his ways are wise and good: that though "clouds and darkness are round about him," yet "righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne:" that though "his paths are in the sea, and his footsteps are not known," yet "all the ways of the Lord are mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies:" and that he will cause all things to work together for good to them that love Him. Such was the hope of David, here expressed. He was in circumstances of extreme distress: distress too which he might consider as the chastisement of his sins. This Psalm is supposed to have been penned by him when he fled from the foul and unnatural rebellion of his

son Absalom. He describes himself as overwhelmed with grief, yet "he encourages himself in the Lord his God;"-he calls himself to account and expostulates with his dejected soul, "Why art thou cast down, O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise him, for the help of his countenance."

II. Let us shew the EXTREME NEED which man has of such hope in God.

Consider then the state and situation of man upon earth. His coming into the world, his continuance in it, and his condition during his passage through it, are alike beyond his own controul. He is the creature of a superior Power, and is entirely at the disposal of that Power. But how forlorn, how unutterably deplorable, must be the situation of a creature who is destitute of hope in his Creator: who is uncertain whether that Creator is favourably disposed to him or not: who knows not but he is a wretched outcast in the creation, rejected and disregarded by Him at whose disposal he absolutely lies. Yet such is the state of the man who possesses no well-founded hope in God.

But this is not all. Man is not a creature indifferent to good and evil, and who if he had no

particular good to hope for from his Creator, might likewise have no particular evil to fear. He is evidently and undeniably a sinful being, justly obnoxious to the disapprobation and wrath of a pure and perfect God. Further than this, awful marks of the divine displeasure do actually appear in the world. That sin is evidently followed by punishment, is proved by all the ills of life, and still more strongly by death-the termination of the whole. Mankind are evidently driven out of the world under marks of divine displeasure, such as may justly excite the most alarming apprehensions concerning what lies beyond the present scene. Men die not voluntarily, but because they must. And their death is an event of such a nature, as alarms and confounds them in the prospect. The little thought which many give to it, and the light manner in which they often speak of it, are no proofs that it is not terrible to them, but the contrary. They put it from their thoughts, because they dare not think of it. The weakness, the suffering, which bring man down to the grave, are in themselves very distressing to human nature; but infinitely more so, the thought of being torn from all we love, and introduced in a moment to a new state of existence, where all is utterly unknown, and where, as conscience suggests, and Scripture assures us, retribution shall have succeeded to trial,

and where the unpardoned sinner shall suffer the consequences of his misspent life. Without "hope in God,” what mortal man, that is not lost to all reflection, or to all feeling, can dare to meet death, an enemy whom yet we must all meet, and under whose hand we must fall.

But, further, the very course of human life is such as must render hope in God" absolutely necessary, if not to support, yet certainly to give peace to the reflecting mind. That "man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward," is not so much a truth revealed from heaven, as an observation suggested by fact. What scenes of calamity and suffering may we witness on every side of us! The field is too wide for us here to range in.

Let me not be misunderstood. I say not these things as if I would encourage any man to sink all enjoyment of his present comforts, in the foreboding apprehension of future evils, which are merely possible but only to shew that no man possesses that of which-independently of "hope in God" -he may say, "This same shall comfort me.'

How many do we witness around us labouring under the hardships of poverty; sinking under disease; mourning over heart-breaking trials in their families; bewailing the desire of their eyes, friends or relations, dear to them as their own souls, torn from them by the irremediable stroke