exhaustible abundance. The clouds of heaven have their command to feed it; the secret springs of the mountains have their command to feed it; the peaceful flow of its waters never interrupted, the plentiful fountains of its supply never cut off; it cannot stagnate, it cannot fail. So shall it be with thee, O thou believing soul, according to the measure of thy faith. Fed by the word of truth, fed by the spirit of grace, fed by the secret springs that come forth out of the throne of God and the Lamb, kept bright and pure by the healthful action and flow of a renewed life, blessing and gladdening thine own soul, and the souls of others in all its course, "thy peace shall be as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea." But one may ask, Is this a picture of actual life, or of some elysian state, a poet's dream, captivating to the imagination, but never realized on earth? Is there not that in the experience of every Christian, that contradicts such airy fancies; and the more eminent and useful the piety, the more striking the contradiction. Or, it may be said, If there have been rare instances in the abodes of seclusion of such calm, peaceful, and undisturbed existence, this is not the discipline by which God prepares his people for their work. These are not the circumstances which go to form a robust, active, and overcoming faith; but a feeble, sickly, mystical, and sentimental faith, which shall wither and die under the ordinary experiences of life. This might be the life of the believer, if the flesh were slain, the world conquered, and the devil chained; but now, no peaceful river, nor smiling lake, but the ocean, swept by storms, and tossed by tempests, is its descriptive type. Or, let such an objector be still bolder, and say, that scripture contradicts itself. Is it not written, "that we through much tribulation must enter into the kingdom of God?" Has not he who said, "Peace I leave with you," warned us to expect affliction and persecution, as the ordinary lot of all who will live godly in the world? Where is then the blessedness ye speak of? Where is this heavenly peace? But let us not be so misunderstood. Let us not forget that the Christian has two lives. The one, he lives by sense-the other, by faith; the one, open and manifest to the world-the other, hid with Christ in God; the one, a life of commotion and distress— the other, a life of peace, and joy, and hope. It is of the inner, hidden life that we have been speaking. The peace of the believing soul would not be half so sweet; the faith from which it proceeds, not half so strong, if the one were not sweetened by contrast, and the other strengthened by conflict with the world, the seeming foe to both. In the wonderful wisdom and grace of God, "out of the eater cometh forth meat, and out of the strong cometh forth sweetness." A deeper peace, and a stronger faith are wrought out of the commotions of the world; so that he read of being "joyful in tribulations," "glorying in tribulations," in the experience which the soul has had of the power and grace of him to whom it has thus been driven for comfort and help. In receiving the peace of God, we do not cease to be men, nor need we forsake the earth for fear of losing it. It does not deprive us of those emotions which are not only inseparable from humanity, but essential to the work of God's grace within us. It does not deaden the sensibilities, nor "petrify the feeling." It does not forbid that we should mourn with deep sorrow over our sins, nor that we should be in heaviness under the burden of our cares and trials. We may sorrow, as Jesus sorrowed; we may groan, as Jesus groaned; we may weep, as Jesus wept; and yet, his peace be in our hearts. The grace of faith shall come out of the furnace of affliction, pure, bright, and precious, as gold tried in the fire; and shall be found unto praise, and honor, and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ. The peace of Christ does not exclude whatever belongs to the good fight of faith. The path to heaven may be full of conflict, and strewn with thorns; the body of flesh may get many a bruise, the limbs be weary, and the feet torn; and yet, the peace which the soul enjoys in staying itself in God, all the sweeter therefor. These outward trials weaken not the heart's confidence in the Redeemer; but, on the contrary, times of persecution, have always been times of strongest faith and greatest enjoyment to the true disciples of Christ. He said it should be so: "These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world." We are told that in the depths of the ocean are mighty rivers, flowing with calm and noiseless current from the pole to the equator, and from the equator to the pole. Down, deep down, where the roar of the tempest is never heard, where the lash of the raging billow is never felt, hidden from the eye of man, they pursue their silent way. These are flowings of its mighty arteries, preserving the life of its waters, moderating the heat of the centre and the cold of the extreme. We speak of the wild and stormy ocean, as if all its secret depths were stirred by storms. We forget that it is only a surface agitation. The great heart of the ocean is calm and peaceful ever. So a believer's outer life may be full of trouble and distress, and yet his heart be full of comfort in the enjoyment of the Saviour's |