upon earth, may be an heir of glory in splendid and certain reversion. It is not by sense that we walk, but by faith. Our treasure is not here, but beyond the sky; and the sorest trials may be part and parcel of that paternal discipline which is preparing a child for his home, a son for the presence of his Father in heaven. Thus a believer, everywhere and always, in all time of his wealth, in all time of his tribulation, in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment, may say, may sing, with ecstacy and triumph, "God is my refuge and my strength, my very present help in this and every time of trouble."

What is needed to enable us to see all this? The great want in us all is faith. "We believe; Lord help our unbelief." Faith is to a Christian what sense is to a natural man; and the objects believed on are as real to faith as the objects seen and heard are to sense and hearing. What we need, therefore, to be able to realize all the peace and all the repose that spring from the conviction in the text, is just that faith which man can define, but which the Holy Spirit of God alone can implant in the heart. Faith shows us God is; history tells us God was; prophecy tells us God will be; faith reveals to us God is; and not only is, but is related to us; and not only is related to us, but works for us, watching over us, ordering all things for our good; making the most painful things subserve our interests, the most cross things contribute to our progress; melting the largest obstructions into impulses and elements of advancement from grace to glory, till we appear before God in Sion. And faith not only reveals God is, not only is thus the evi

dence of things not seen, but faith is the appropriating grace. When I have faith, divine faith, implanted in my heart, I not only see God, but I take hold of God; I not only can see God is a refuge-faith can reveal that-but I can see also and say by faith, "God is my refuge and my strength, and my present help in all time of trouble." Nay, faith can enable me to say, "All things are mine; Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or life, or death, or things past, or things present, or things to come-all are mine, for I am Christ's, and Christ is God's." Faith also can enable us, not only to see all these things ours, but to see God, and all that is in God, very near. Faith brings near. When I see an object, I see its shape, its form, its dimensions as clearly at the distance of a hundred feet, as if the sense of touch could enable me to measure and ascertain its form. So faith brings distant things near; it brings God near, eternity near, heaven near, the judgment-seat near; and these things brought near to me become the very atmosphere I breathe, the very food I live on, the constant and ceaseless companions of my progress through this world to a brighter and a better beyond it.

Can we then say, God is our refuge? Can we say, not in sunshine, but in shadow, He is our present help in time of trouble? Do we believe this truth, do we live on it? Our belief in it is measured by the trust and the pressure we can lay upon it, by the amount of peace and joy we can derive from it. That man in whose heart's experience this truth is the greatest, most continuous, shaping, coloring reality, is the man who believes most, who has the greatest confidence in God as our refuge and

our strength, our very present help in time of trouble. Faith in mathematics, in science, is a natural gift; faith in Christ, as God our refuge, is a divine grace. Nature has left us the faith that concludes in the discoveries of science; grace is ever ready to give us the faith that is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

LECTURE XXXVII.

BE STILL.

"Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth." PSALM xlvi. 10.

THE forty-sixth psalm is evidently from first to last a military or a war song. It assumes tribulation, warfare, in the midst of the world; and it points the Christian to his refuge, his safe and blessed retreat, amidst the war storms gathering from the distant horizon. God is not only our refuge, but He is also with us. "He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; He breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; He burneth the chariot in the fire." If God is thus the source of victory, if the battle is not to the strong nor the race to the swift, then "be still;" do not be alarmed, agitated, and vexed; but be satisfied of this; that God will be exalted in the earth. Fear not for his kingdom, be not alarmed for his cause; not a hair of the head of his saints shall perish. Be still, and know that He is not man to repent, nor a creature to fail; but the mighty God, the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.

This prescription is suitable to the age in which we live, in the scenes that are opening on a world that ap

pears to be about to go through its last baptism. What are some of the grounds of disquiet in the minds of true Christians? Why is it that we need the prescription, "Be still"? We answer, first, from the imperfection of our knowledge. We see but a fragment of God's procedure; we cannot see that out of evil He still educes good. When we behold overshadowing error, we think it will deepen and darken till the whole sky is overcast ; whereas, by-and-by it is dissolved, and truth shines forth. with all the splendor of the sun, and the momentary cloud seems to have only increased the intensity of the glory that succeeds, and follows it. We hear of divisions and disputes among Christians; we think the Church is going to pieces; but that is because we see but a part, we do not see the whole. If we saw the whole we should discover that the momentary discord is only preparatory to lasting harmony; and that the dispute of a day precedes the peace that will prevail through ages to come. We see through a glass darkly; we do not always recollect this, and because we forget it, and fancy that we can see more clearly than is the case, we are troubled and disquieted. Because we are blind, we think the world is going to pieces, and that God has left it to itself. Another reason why we are disquieted is, that we judge very much after the senses. We call that bright which we see to be so; we call that dark which we feel to be so; and we judge of God's procedure by the same senses with which we judge of things that are properly within their province, and ought to be submitted to their verdict. Noise seems greatness, but it may be very emptiness. Glare seems sublimity, it may be puerility in the extreme. We