may be in the religious proverb, (and there is much,) that "dying grace is for a dying hour," it is equally true, that if grace to live well is not sought with an express reference to dying well, it will not be earnestly nor often sought. He will pray most in secret, and with most pleasure, whose closet is, as it were, a little nook of the heaven of heavens, partitioned off for communion with God, and whose times of retirement are regarded as portions of eternity. And there is special need, that the family altar should actually lean on the eternal throne; there is such danger of becoming formal and dull in domestic worship! The advantages of heavenly-mindedness are not, however, confined to the duties of godliness: they extend also to religious enjoyments. Now, a "good hope through grace," is an enjoyment which we prize highly, and pray much for; because we find that we cannot go on well without it. We feel with Paul, that hope is the very "anchor of the soul." We call it emphatically, our sheet anchor; nor is there any impropriety in thus strengthening our sense of its importance, by the best form of its consecrated image. It would, however, be better to familiarize ourselves with the scriptural use of this fine image. Now, 66 Paul says, that the anchor of hope "entereth into THAT within the veil; whither the forerunner is for us entered, even Jesus." "That within the veil," is evidently heaven. It is, therefore, when hope (like an anchor passing through the veil of the waters until it lay hold upon the channels of the waters) passes into heaven, that it becomes an anchor of the soul, 8.6 sure and steadfast," and thus furnishes "strong consolation." (Heb. vi. 19, 20.) If, therefore, we would enjoy or maintain a good hope through grace, we must make it to enter within the veil, not only when our souls are tempest-tossed, but also when there is "a great calm." Indeed, we shall not be able to use it as an anchor, in the storm, if we do not use it in the calm. Accordingly, those who use it rather as ballast to their character, than as an anchor of the soul, find, in the hour of temptation and trial, that they cannot cast it within the veil. They try; but it will not take hold of "THAT which is within. Their hope drags, like an anchor on bad moorings. Not, indeed, that using it as ballast to the character, is the cause of this. Hope should, yea, must, be employed to steady the life, as well as to cheer the heart. It will, however, be unable to enter within the veil, whilst all without the veil is dark and threatening, if it do not accustom itself to enter when all without is tranquil. Our souls must send hope heavenward, even when they least need the consolation, if they would stand prepared to enjoy that consolation when they most need it. The spirit, although not the form, of these hints, is equally applicable to the enjoyment of peace of conscience. This, also, is very dear, and justly so, to all true believers; and, like every other spiritual joy, it has both its source and centre in the CROSS of Christ. But whilst it was the blood of Christ that made peace, and whilst it is faith in that blood which brings peace into the conscience, it is heaven which tests our peace in believing, and shows "what sort it is:" for if it will not bear to be confronted with heaven, it is not such a peace as the atonement is calculated to afford; and, therefore, not such as should satisfy us. Nothing, however, is farther from my intention, in these remarks, than to insinuate that there is no faith in the atonement, when there is no assurance of eternal life, whilst heaven is not directly contemplated, There is much evidence of true faith, when a conscience, once burthened with guilt, and agitated with fear, is so tranquillized by scrip or tural views of the cross, that the believer is both able and willing to engage in all the ordinary duties of life with composure and determination. This is as truly "the work of faith," and as properly so, as any effort to set our affections on things above: for we belong to time as well as to eternity; to this world, as well as to that which is to come; and are, therefore, equally bound to discharge the duties of both. It would, therefore, be decidedly wrong to form a habit of so contemplating heaven, as if we were just about to leave the world. This is not what is wanted. It is, however, necessary, as we know not when we must leave the world, that our faith should often try how our peace will stand the test of a steady look at heaven. Let it, by all means, look at the duties of life and godliness; and observe well, how it is and let all its holy influence upon them be set down as proof of its being "the peace of God," which springs from faith in Christ. It must not, however, be allowed to stop here. Our peace must be frequently confronted with heaven also, if we would have it to "keep our hearts and minds" truly happy. For, as there must be something wrong or defective in it, if thinking of eternity disturbs it; so our own affected by them; consciousness of this disturbance must create a suspicion that we may have no peace, when we are compelled to think of eternity for if the prospect agitate us, how must the reality overpower us on our death-bed? Whereas, by seeking from day to day, a peace which shall "reign unto eternal life," as well as sweeten our temporal life, we shall do best for both worlds. It is now easy to see how heavenly-mindedness must maintain and promote love to the Saviour. We often lament the coldness and deadness of our hearts towards Him. There are few prayers that we utter so fervently, as that of WATTS: "Come, Holy Spirit, heavenly Dove, Well, the Spirit we thus invoke, works by means. He quickens by quickening motives; and one of them is, the hope of glory. Now, this he employs so much for kindling love to Christ, that one of his own titles is, "the earnest of the inheritance" in heaven. By trying, therefore, to set our affections on things above, we are taking the most natural way, |