Chapter 25: Of the Effects of Hope — Stability, Patience, and Waiting
The effects of hope follow, which I will but name: the first is to free the mind from all such anxieties as arise out of the floating, instability, and fearfulness thereof: for as the philosopher tells us, fearful men are ⟨in non-Latin alphabet⟩, hard of hope: and in this property, hope is well compared to an anchor; because it keeps the mind in a firm and constant temper, without tottering and instability: for though there be but one hope joined with certainty as depending upon an immutable promise all other having ground of fear in them; yet this should be only a fear of caution, not of jealousy and distrust; because where there is distrust in the means, there is for the most part weakness in the use of them; and he who suspects the aid which he relies on, gives it just reason to fail and to neglect him. And therefore Aristotle has set hope and confidence together, as was before noted, ⟨in non-Latin alphabet⟩, a good hope is grounded on a belief, and always works some measure of affiance in the means to it.
A second effect of hope, is to work some kind of distaste and weariness in our present condition, which according as it is good or evil, does qualify the hope from which it arises: for there is a distaste that arises out of weakness; like that of Job, my soul is weary of my life; I am a burden to myself. Another that arises out of want, that which arises upon weakness is a fickle and inconstant mutability of the mind, whereby it desires a continual change of condition: which affection is wrought either out of impatience of opposition; from which the mind upon the first difficulty which it meets with, is frightened and discouraged; or out of a sharpness of apprehension, discovering insufficiency in that wherein it desired content; or out of an error, and too high estimation preconceived, which in the trial disappointing our hopes, and not answering that opinion, begins to be neglected as weak and deceitful: or lastly, out of curiosity and search, when we suppose that those things which cannot in their nature, may at least in their varieties, number, yield some content: and as sands, which are the smallest things asunder; yet being united, grow great and heavy: so these pleasures, which are alone light and worthless, may by their multitude bring weight and satisfaction with them. Although herein the mind is likely most of all to find Solomon's vanity; the union of things subordinate, and which have no cognation each to other (which is the property of worldly delights) working rather distraction than tranquility in the mind; this weariness then which springs from the unsteadiness and impotence of our affections, is not that which I make the effect of a proper hope (as being an opposite rather to true contentment of mind, a virtue established, and not overthrown by hope) the weariness then, which is wrought by the forecast and providence of a mind possessed with hope, is that which is grounded upon the knowledge and feeling of our emptiness and wants, which therefore we long to have removed: like that of David, [reconstructed: Woe] is me that I am constrained to dwell in [reconstructed: Mesech]; whereupon follows,
The third effect of hope, which is an earnest contention of the mind, in the pursuit of that good, which should perfect our natures, and supply our wants. And this desire Saint Paul calls Gemitus Creatura, the groaning of the creature: which is set down as a consequence of the earnest expectation of the creature: and indeed there is not any passion, which does so much employ, and so little violate reason, as this of hope does, it being an exciting passion, which moves every principle to its proper and speedy operation for gaining that perfection which the mind so earnestly breathes after; and the want whereof does work such weakness in it.
The last effect of hope, is a contented repose and patience of the mind, resting itself in a quiet expectation of the things hoped for, and yet not exhibited. And this patience is threefold; a patience under the want; a patience under the distance; and a patience under the difficulties of our desired good; which holds especially in these hopes (and those are almost all) which depend upon the will and disposition of another, whose pleasure it behooves us in matters which are not of debt and necessity, rather to attend, than by murmuring and discontent to provoke him, and disappoint ourselves. Hasty therefore and running hopes are as improper in their nature, as they are commonly vain and empty in their success. He that believes, and must by faith depend upon external help, must not make haste, but be content to have his expectations regulated, not by his own greediness, but by another's will.
