Paul says, "Being justified by faith, we have peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ." We have peace, or possess it; for what we have, we must possess. Now this peace is given to assure the conscience that God is at peace with us, that he is reconciled, and has forgiven all our trespasses., And whoever feels this peace, must be assured of the pardon of his sins; it is the witness of his pardon.

This blessed peace does not grow in nature's garden, nor can it be dug out of the mines of human merit. It was lost in paridise, and it can be found only at Calvary. It is called the peace of God, because it is of God's bestowing, and bestowed through Jesus Christ alone.

Where this peace is bestowed, it is found to be as Paul describes it, "A peace passing all understanding." A peace so exquisitely rich, that none can understand what it is, until he feels it; and when he feels it, he never can express it. Men may mistake this peace, before they taste it, as ten thousands do; and take up with an human calm instead of it; but he who feels it, never can mistake it; for nothing else is like it; it passeth all understanding.

The Holy Spirit seals this peace upon the conscience, and thereby proclaims the pardon of sin, and "sheds abroad the love of God into the heart," and "beareth witness to our adoption."

This sealing of the Holy Spirit is given as an earnest of our future inheritance. It is a heavenly pledge dropt into our bosom, to assure us of our interest in Christ. Thus the conscience is delivered from the fear of wrath, and fear of death which brings bondage; the heart now rejoices in God, as a reconciled God; calls him Father, by the Spirit of adoption; de

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lights in his blessed service, and feels the meaning of St. Peter's words, "Believing in Christ Jesus, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."

These are weighty words, directed unto all believing churches, and experienced by them; but never were, and never will be felt by a mere human faith, springing from the human intellect. The faith, producing heavenly peace, and the peace produced, are both the gift of God.

By the help of this divine faith, the happy christian now repeats his church hymns with truth and pleasure, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour." Or with old Simeon, "Let thy servant depart in peace, O Lord, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation."

Now, Sir, hear what your own peace is. You feel no distress of mind, but are mighty easy; and your calm, which is a dead calm, arises from your character, though a sinful character at best. Your peace brings no heavenly joy, and so comes not from heaven; neither does it flow entirely through the golden conduit of the Saviour's merit, but drips from a rotten wooden pipe off your own duties. You are, it seems, a cheerful harmless creature, like a robin redbreast, who is much respected every where: and you frequent the church, as many a pious mouse will, yet does not like her quarters; prayer books are dry champing; a pantry suits her better. And you see many, who are worse than yourself abundantly, which makes you hope your state is good; and while outward things go smooth, your calm continues. But when calamities come on, and thicken as they come, your peace is gone; it cannot stand a tempest. And

when your soul is hovering on a sick bed for its flight, it will either feel a dead security or take a frightful leap into another world. Unless you are supported by divine faith, you cannot sing the christian's dying song, O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?

We now proceed to another point of faith, and a choice one too, very savoury and nourishing to a true believer; St. Peter tells us, that faith purifies the heart and St. John affirms, this is the victory, whereby we overcome the world, even our faith; and he tells us what he means by the world, even the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life.

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Come, Sir, bring your face to the gospel-glass; and handle this point well, like an old grazier. Does your faith overcome the lust of the flesh, making you victorious over your palate, and over outward pollution, and inward uncleanness?

Does your faith overcome the lust of the eye, and keep your heart from grasping after more wealth,more preferment, or more honours? Having food and raiment, have you learnt therewith to be content?

Does your faith overcome the pride of life, and prevent your being charmed with a lofty house, rich furniture, genteel equipage, and splendid raiment? Does it make you sick of earthly vanities, and draw your heart to things above?

Speak, Sir, and speak honestly, If you are a slave to these matters, and a quiet slave, you may keep your faith satan will not steal it from you. His own sooty cap is full as good as your rusty bonnet.

The

d'evils believe, and tremble, but are devils still. One point more, Sir, and we have done. Faith is

where many

which look

not only intended to pacify the conscience, and purify the heart, but also to rescue the mind from earthly troubles. Our passage through life is attended with storms: we sail upon a boisterous sea, tempests are felt; and many are feared, black and bode mischief, but pass over. designed for an anchor, to keep the mind steady, and give it rest; even as Isaiah saith," thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee."

Now faith is

Precious promises, suited to our wants, are scattered through the Bible and divine faith will feed upon the promises, looking unto Jesus to fulfil them; but human faith can reap no profit from them. Let me suppose you in distressful circumstances, and while musing on them with an anxious heart, you cast a look upon a distant Bible. The book is fetched and opened, and this passage meets your eye, "Call upon me in the day of trouble, I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." Here you view a gracious promise, made by a faithful God, and made without limitation or condition, directed unto every one that reads or hears it, applicable to every time or trouble, and requiring only the prayer of faith for deliverance. Yet, Sir, it is possible, this blessed promise might not even draw a prayer from you; perhaps it gains a little musing, and the book is closed. Or if it should extort a feeble cry, the prayer does not ease your heart, nor fetch deliverance, for want of faith.

You know the word of Jesus, All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive. But for want of faith, your reasoning heart will ask, "From whence can this deliverance come?" What is

that to you Sir? God keeps the means of deliverance out of sight, on purpose to exercise our faith; but promises to make a way for our escape, though we

can see none.

Or perhaps you may surmise, "This promise was not made for me: I am not worthy of it." Sir, God's promise is not made to compliment your worthiness, but to manifest the riches of his grace in Christ Jesus. Do you mind how the promise runs? It is not said, "Glorify me first, and afterward I will deliver thee;" which would be making man's worthiness a foundation for God's blessings. But he says, "I will deliver thee, and then thou shalt glorify me."

Faith considers all the promises as freely made to supply our wants, and rests upon the Lord's faithfulness to fulfil them; and when a promise is fulfilled, adores the mercy, and glorifies the Lord for it. In this way, and this only, he gets some hearty rent of praise. Such free deliverance wins the heart, and binds it to the Lord, and makes obedience cheerful.

I know a man, who having no family, spends his income yearly, as little as he can upon himself, and the rest upon his neighbors. He keeps no purse against a rainy day, and wants none; Jesus Christ is his banker, and a very able one. Sometimes by sickness or unforeseen expenses, he gets behind hand, and greatly so. At such times, he does not run about among his earthly friends to seek relief, but falls upon his knees, and calls upon his banker, saying, "Lord I am in want, and thou must help me. Here

I bring thy gracious promise; look upon it, Jesus. It says, "call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me." Lord, I call,

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