and unhappy in looking forward to a futurity on which no light, independent of revelation, clearly shines; and respecting which he conjectures only evil, because he knows no good; and because he has a certain impression that the removal by death is a removal into the presence of God; and because the manifest difference between his conscience and his conduct and dispositions, induces the fear that he cannot abide that presence; and that the change, by death, from time to eternity, may not be a change for the better. Circumstances such as these are calculated to give anything but peace. Even to the most thought less man they preclude the possibility of solid peace and if a man turns his attention towards them, and examines closely and honestly into his present state and his future prospects, he must be wretched. He has no sufficient ground of hope for happiness beyond; nothing with which sound unbiassed common sense could be satisfied. And then he has nothing here that is secured to him for one moment. Health, fortune, favour, and what is more interesting than all these, the continued existence of that portion of his fellow-creatures in whom his natural affections are centered,all these things are under a control that he cannot influence, and may pass away to-morrow. - He has nothing inviting beyond, and nothing permanent here. Let a wise and prudent man look this state of things fairly in the face, and the thought must be insupportable. Yet the heart of man yearns after peace. A restless seeking for something better,— for something which we have not; for something that will give satisfaction; seems to be a disposition indelibly stamped upon man's nature by his present circumstances. It is a restlessness somewhat similar to that of the unclean spirit ejected from the soul that he has possessed, and walking thenceforth" through dry places, seeking rest and finding none." So man appears Now in these distressing circumstances in which man is placed, there are two offers of peace made to him, to either of which in his distress he may turn, and to one or other of which every one does turn. These offers are made by two different parties, -the world and Jesus Christ. The world professes, in the most unqualified way, to possess the secret of happiness,-the magic which is to dispel our sorrows; to make our days a succession of delights; to extract the sting from suffering, and sin, and death. And then, on the other hand, Jesus Christ professes to do the same thing, but in a decidedly different way :-"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." We will now attempt briefly to exhibit and contrast these two modes of obtaining peace, that individuals may see and judge for themselves; and that if they should really find one preferable, they may be led, in good time, to disentangle themselves from the ties of the other that they are desirous to leave, before such an escape be rendered impracticable. 1. The peace which the world gives. When we say, The world gives, we use a figure of speech, to designate the way that the men of this world take, according to their natural propensities, to make each other happy. And when we mean to specify what we do ourselves individually or collectively, in our natural state, the general course which men take, we say, The world does so; or, It is the way of the world. Let us see then, now, the way in which the world proposes to give peace to man's avowedly restless spirit. How does it undertake to quiet and to calm men's consciences?-how does it offer to pacify his well-grounded fears, and remove the dread of death and judgment? The lying by which open vice gives us a In the first place, we know full well, that in the very outset of our course, it boldly offers us peace in the indulgence of our strong natural passions, in the practice of those open and crying vices which, in a very short time, pollute, debase, and ruin both body and soul. Many take this course, and go headlong in it to destruction. How large a portion of our fellow-creatures there is, who, if their secret history were known, would shew how strong the tides of natural passion and propensity run towards vice. How many there are whose hands and consciences are stained with dishonesty; whose gold has the canker of First, The more serious and iminjustice upon it, and whose secret portant pursuits of life. Every man ways but ill assort with the fair and is called to a life of turmoil and busy open face that they carry before the occupation. He sets before himself world. Oh, if the Spirit of God were some object of high and difficult atto deal at once as a spirit of conviction tainment, a certain degree of repuand of burning with such men, what tation, or a certain fortune. And this a melancholy scene of humiliation and is assumed to be essential to happiwailing would the nominally christian ness. He never dreams of inquiring world present! But into this case it whether this is absolutely the course is not necessary to go: the present incumbent on him in his present ciraim is not to contrast the peace of true cumstances. This is all taken for religion with the bold and shameless granted; and religion, or religious peace, and the attainments of heavenly enjoyment, is counted as a secondary thing, that may or may not come by the way. We are prepared to grant that much effort is positive duty, that close occupation and arduous effort are, in their way, good things, yet still even here there is much self-delusion practised; and one grand reason why there is so much extreme devotion to human science, or to professional pursuits, is, that men dread the vacant hour which suggests the thought of self, just as they would dread to occupy some chamber of solitary darkness, in the expectation of meeting, in the dead of night, a mysterious visitant from the grave. Ask almost any man of business to think seriously, for a quarter of an hour, about himself, and see how he will shrink. The driest point of law, the remotest scientific inquiry, the wildest speculation, the most crabbed reasoning on arithmetic or the merest trifle, were a preferable subject to a serious thought about his own soul. But then, as if the original nature of man actually revolted against this exclusive devotion of the mind to what is vainly called important business, we find men are incapable of this incessant toil of continuous labour without relaxation. The fragile frame of man will not bear it; and the most gigantic minds of modern times have fallen under the mighty effort of their falsely splendid The body actually refuses to let the mind be perpetually occupied in speculations that call it off from God: and here, therefore, in the moment of weariness and lassitude, seems the favourable juncture when man should turn towards his Maker, and find peace in Him; when he would delight to find real repose in casting career. all his cares upon the sufficiency of Infinite Goodness. But no! if the world were to surrender its claim to beguile these hours of weariness, when the unsatisfying nature of the noblest concerns of this short life is actually realized,-it would at once confess its inability to give peace; and in that moment the contest between it and godliness would be given up, and men would then have to determine the question of seeking God, one way or other. They must devote themselves to this work, as the great secret for happiness, or wilfully remain miserable, without an object and without a hope, because they refuse to seek it in Him who made them. But then this wary world is not reduced to such an extremity; it still professes to give peace. It brings forth from its treasure-house all the magic of vanity; and sets in motion all that mysterious machinery which experience has shewn to be so successful in fascinating, deluding, and ruining the heart. A host of lying vanities are brought forward under the name of rational amusements, and recreations, and pastimes; under the specious pretence of restoring the tone of the wearied mind; of giving, in the intervals of care, the needful relaxation; and of letting in upon the dull and sombre journey of life a brighter glow of present delight. In this way the world leads its followers through the ordinary round of its recreations, till almost every one feels that they are tame and vapid, inadequate and contemptible; and then, in the insufferable crisis of their weariness, invention and effort are again taxed to the utmost, to devise some new and more efficient method of adding pleasure to the passing scene; of giving new stimulus to the jaded mind; of stifling the presumptuous suggestions of conscience; and of dragging down, by the promise of greater and loftier indulgence, some new and untried victims into the vortex of folly; and, if all that has been usually tried shall still be found to fail, then, as a last resort, the haunts of dissipation are to be consecrated by the appearance of sacredness and the language of devotion; and the whole extravagant expenditure of time and means is to be palliated and gilded with the false and mawkish plea of charity. And now, what does all this do towards giving peace? Literally nothing. Busy occupation may avert the mind from serious thought on other subjects; vanity, with all its train of fascinations, may fill up the intervening hours, and dispel the gloom that would otherwise gather; but still they leave all the great questions, which must be one day settled in the heart, absolutely untouched. They only operate, like the few hours of sleep upon a ruined man, to make him forget his cares; they do not remove them; and it is probable that even this, his dream of happiness, may yet be haunted by the reality of his sorrow. There then he still stands, after all that the world has done for him, a haggard spectacle of care, on the verge of an eternity for which he is not provided,—with the additional sin of having dismissed the salutary fear, and refused the call to inquiry; and of having wasted, by a resolute devotion to other occupations, the hours that might have made him acquainted with his God, and thrown a cheering ray of hope across the dark waste of futurity. And yet it is our lot to see hundreds, after having tried these ways again and again, and found how vain they were, yet ready to believe again the cheating promise of the world; opening the bosom once more to the flattery of its delusions ; screwing up the faded and languid cheek again into a smile; and suffering their eye again to brighten with the vain anticipation of a joy which has ever eluded their grasp, and their heart again to warm and to flutter with a hope which a few sad hours of real life must inevitably destroy. Oh, it is melancholy indeed to see so much energy thrown away on the trifles of a moment, and leaving the soul more desolate than ever; when, rightly directed, it might have led the soul onward to the true source of peace, and begun in it, at the footstool of a throne of grace, the throbbings of a joy that shall know no end! But it is time to turn to the other side of the question, and examine,— Secondly,―The peace which Jesus Christ offers:-"Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you." This was His gracious legacy when He was about to leave the world by a cruel and ignominious death. God had looked down upon a guilty world in mercy. He saw that man was sinful and unhappy: he had no righteousness, and he had no comforter he knew not his God, and therefore he could not know peace; and He saw him wandering in the wilderness of this world a pilgrim, bound to no-where, but seeking by false and fatal measures, that precious gem-a quiet conscience; and seeking it in vain: and, in the default of higher and holier enjoyment, wearying himself for very variety. And then, in the mysterious counsels of the Godhead, a gracious means of deliverance was accomplished for him. The Eternal Son became man by incarnation, race. and came expressly to save our guilty He came to remedy the evil to which the restlessness and misery of every man bear testimony. He came to give peace; to call sinners to repentance and salvation; and to seek and to save that which was lost. The great feature of His work was the reconciliation of man to God, by a voluntary suffering, and a perfect obedience in man's stead:-this, by the terms of the Eternal covenant, was to be the ransom of all that should believe. This, during His condescending visit on the earth, the Saviour fully accomplished: and when He ascended to His glory, to plead His available merits before the throne, He left the legacy of the peace, which He had purchased, behind Him, for all that timely turn to Him. Here then is an offer of peace to the wretched and perishing children of men. It stands certainly in direct opposition to the inclinations, habits, and pursuits of their fallen nature. It requires in a great degree an abandonment of them, and a general change of principle, purpose, and intention. It requires, in the outset, some little effort, and some singularity; but then it is the singularity of virtue, of godliness; of separation from mere vanity and folly; of superiority to the established precedents of a world that lieth in wickedness. And then it does not demand this effort without giving ample assistance. No; rather it is a call for the weak and the helpless to come and receive strength; for the wretched, wearied votary of folly to come and be made happy. "Where fore," the Saviour cries, "Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness." "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” And what is the peace that Christ gives? It is peace of conscience; the removal of the burden of guilt. Though, from pure thoughtlessness, you scarcely know it; though you hardly ever look into the question of your moral state before God; yet, till you come to Christ, there is a burden of guilt on your conscience, which is the real cause of unhappiness. You have slighted and insulted your Maker, and lived without His love: your very devotions, compared with the ardour with which you sought the world, have condemned you; but coming to Jesus Christ gives peace and repose, because to come to Him is to accept Him as your ransom and atonement. It is to believe that His blood washes away all your guilt; that His obedience is to be your plea of merit before God, and that henceforth His Holy Spirit shall dwell in you, to keep you from wilful and destructive transgression. But the peace of Christ goes further than this. It is general peace of mind; that composure of spirit which flows from reliance upon God as a sure and everlasting friend. Man wants some firm footing for his feet; he wants that on which, in his weakness, he may repose confidence. Does he find it in the crowded assembly, or the bustle of business? Does he find it in the regular recurring seasons of winter dissipation? Does he find it in the friendship of the world? Does he find it in the world's deceitful promises? Does it follow him with smiles into his retirement, and cheer his hours of care, and smooth his pillow in sickness, and brighten on him in |