Faith not only discloses things that are unseen, but it brings them near and appropriates them. It brings God near, it brings Christ near, it brings the future near, it brings the unseen near to us. So truly so, that the Christian acts from motives, and entertains objects, and aims, and hopes which are strange and mysterious altogether to a natural man. A natural man cannot understand how any one should brave shame, or despise riches, or hate even life itself, rather than light a little incense, as the Christians were asked to do, upon the altar of Jupiter. A natural man cannot understand how he should lose a splendid profit by deference to some inner light-some mighty motive, that guides, sustains, and actuates the soul within. But a Christian does. And why? Because a natural man lives in a lower element, and a Christian lives in a higher. They to whom the sea is the natural element, cannot understand the movements of them whose element is the air. A Christian lives in the higher element, and, therefore, what influences, guides, moves, directs him, is altogether a mystery to the world; so truly so, that the world knoweth us not, as it knew Him not.

And faith not only brings near, it also appropriates. It puts the word "mine" to every thing that God says, and to every thing that God has promised. Any man can say, There is a God, a Saviour, a Bible, a heaven; but, in the exercise of that faith which is to a Christian "the evidence of things not seen, and the substance of things hoped for," he can say, He is my God, he is my Saviour, he is my Sanctifier; and that heaven is my heaven, and that happiness is my happiness.

Thus, faith sets in motion almost all the springs that can move and actuate the human soul. So true is this, that he must be a stranger indeed to faith who does not bring forth all the fruits of the Spirit, and show, in his whole walk and

conversation, that he is moved and guided by an inner but unseen motive power, that is "the victory that overcometh the world." If a man believe truly that there is a region where gold is to be had only for the gathering, or that there are streams, like those of Pactolus of old, whose sands are golden, he goes to that land, and seeks for what can enrich him; or if there be an invalid who hears of a land where there is a bright sun and a cloudless sky, where his health may be invigorated and restored, he sails for that land, and avails himself of it. If you truly believe that you are lost by nature, and can only be saved by grace; if you really believe that you are perishing and passing to everlasting death, and that there is an arm stretched down from the skies on which you have only to lay hold to be drawn up to everlasting glory; if you with your affections and heart believe this, it is impossible that you can fail to seize that hand, and so to hope for that glory.

This faith, wherever it is, triumphs in every case, too, over death. A Christian by faith triumphs over death. The grave, which shocks some, does not shock him. He knows that he leaves in the grave only the robes in which he officiated as a Levite in the outer temple of God; into the texture of which robes his hopes, his joys, his happiness do not enter. A Christian, that is, he who has true faith, who has this inner eye that sees the things that are invisible, detects no more connection between death and extinction, than between life and extinction. In other words, dust and the soul, corruption and the spirit, have no connection whatever in a Christian's estimate. He cannot see that the soul dies, because the body dissolves; or that, because the one goes to corruption, the other must be annihilated. On the contrary, believing God's testimony, and seeing the things that are unseen by this inner and true eye, he believes that the wreck of the material frame is only the emergence

and the disentanglement of the glorious tenant that inhabited it.

Such is that true faith, the basis of the happy things we hope for, the evidence of the true things which we believe, which the Church before the Flood lived by, as truly as we. Have we this faith implanted in our hearts? Have we a life distinct from and superior to the life that dies? Have we springs and motives of action that the world has not? Do we feel "Thou, O God, seest me;" and is this far more real and cogent and constraining in our experience than any other motive that the world can present? Do we feel, that because Christ has loved us, which we believe, that we ought to love him, and, loving him, to live to him, which is our duty? The evidence of the sun being risen is that he shines; the evidence of the fire being kindled is that it gives forth heat; the evidence of faith being in us is that we act as faith prescribes, directs, and dictates. Can you, dear reader, believing these things, pray earnestly, "Lord, increase our faith?" Such a petition is the evidence of faith. No man ever asked for faith from the depths of his heart, who had not already a portion of faith to enable him thus to ask. He who can say, "Take my case in thine hand, thou Great Physician, and heal me," has the inner eye that sees that physician already. The blind sees none. The fact that we see Christ, and appeal to him, is the evidence that the inner eye has been couched, and that we have that faith, which "is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."

If we have this faith, we shall have peace. There is no one more marked fruit of faith spoken of in the Scriptures than peace. "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee;" and again, "Justified by faith, we have peace with God." If there be this confidence in God, this sweet composure of our souls in the bosom and within

the everlasting arms of our Father and of our God, then no storms that rage without can disturb us, no changes, perils, or vicissitudes can move us. When Noah was in the ark, he heard the hailstones patter on the roof, and around him the noise of the angry surges; but he felt peace. Why? not because the caulking, or the timber, or the bolts of that ark were all that he could wish them to be; but because God had said that the ark should outlive it all, and land upon Ararat its redeemed ones, no more to look out upon a world under water; but upon a world rebaptized and renewed. Even so now, we shall have peace, not because we are strong, courageous, and clever, or have patronage, or money, or friends; but because God keeps him “in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed upon him." Abel died in peace; Noah felt peace in the ark; by faith Daniel had peace in the den of lions. By faith Paul and Silas sang in their dungeon at midnight. By faith John saw Patmos transformed into a beauteous Paradise. By faith the tongues of martyrs, like harp-strings, emitted their sweetest sounds when they were dying. Their spirits passed to glory while anthems and praises were upon their lips. By faith we too shall overcome. It is want of faith that makes some alarmed for the safety of the truth when a leaf falls from a tree. It is the presence of faith that enables the Christian to say, "Though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, we will not be afraid: for God is our refuge." It is want of faith that makes hundreds and thousands tremble for evangelical truth, because the pope has imported a cardinal into London. It is Christian confidence in the truth that makes all true believers feel persuaded that all the cardinals in Rome will never be able to eradicate eternal truth. God has promised to us and to it immortality He has declared that Babylon, like a great mill-stone, shall be cast

into the depths of the sea, and shall be no more heard of at all. The greatest blunder that the Vatican ever perpetrated was that appointment. If there be truth in prophecy, or if the line of illustration we have tried to teach be true, it is just when the candle is going out, that it sends forth its brightest but short-lived lustre; it is when death is going to close upon the body, that the most spasmodic action takes place; it is just when popery is about to be finally cast down, that its most desperate efforts will be made. But they will all be made in vain. We believe in God, we believe also in Jesus, and, therefore, we have peace — perfect peace. The Lord reigns, the Lord is our refuge, we shall not be afraid. The same God that carried the Church before the Flood across the waters to Ararat, will conduct us through the last and more terrible baptism of the earth, to the everlasting hills of blessedness and peace.