THERE are few whose idea of happiness does not include peace asessential. Most men have been so tempest-tossed, and not comforted,that they long for a closing of all excitements at last in peace.Hence the images of the haven receiving the shattered bark, of therural vale remote from the noise of towns, have always been dear tohuman fancy. Hence, too, the decline of life away from severe toil,rapid motion, and passionate action, has often a charm even beyondthe kindling enterprise of youth. The cold grave itself repels notaltogether, but somewhat allures the imagination.
"How still and peaceful is the grave!"
Especially has heaven risen to the religious mind in this complexionof tranquillity. It is generally conceived as free from alldisturbance, broken by not a sound save of harmonious anthems,which, like murmuring water, give deeper peace than could be foundin silence.
But man so longs for rest and peace, that he not only sootheshimself with these images from afar, but hopes to foretaste theirsubstance. And what are his views to this end? He means to retirefrom business to some spot where he can calmly enjoy what he has invain panted for in the race of life. Perhaps he tries theexperiment, but finds himself restless still, and learns the greatlesson at last, that peace is not in the landscape, but only in thesoul; and the calm sky, the horizon's circle, the steady stars, areonly its language, not itself.
Perhaps he seeks peace in his home. Everything there is made soft tothe feet; each chair and couch receives him softly; agreeablesounds, odours, viands, regale every sense: and illuminated chambersreplace for him at night the splendour of the sun. But here again heis at fault. Peace comes not to him thus, though all the apparatusseems at hand to produce it. Still he may be outshone by aneighbour; or high estate may draw down upon him envy and ill-will;or his senses themselves may refuse the proffered bliss, and achewith disease. Peace is not in outward comforts, which theconstitution sharply limits; which pass with time, or pall upon thetaste. The human mind is too great a thing to be pleased with mereblandishments.
Man has a soul of vast desires; and the solemn truth will come homeirresistibly at times, even to the easy epicure. Something iswanting still. There is more of pain than peace in the remnants offeasting and the exhausted rounds of pleasure.
Man has sometimes sought peace in yet another way. Abjuring allsensual delights, he has gone into the desert to scourge the body,to live on roots and water, and be absorbed in pious raptures; andoften has he thus succeeded, better than do the vulgar hunters ofpleasure. But unrest mingles even with the tranquillity thusobtained. His innocent, active powers resist this crucifixion. Thedistant world rolls to his ear the voices of suffering fellow-men;and even his devotions, all lonely, become selfish and unsatisfying.
All men are seeking, in a way better or worse, this same peace andrest. Some seek it objectively in mere outward activity. They arenot unfrequently frivolous and ill-furnished within, seeking rest bytravelling, by running from place to place, from company to company,changing ever their sky but never themselves. Such persons, deeplyto be pitied, seek by dress to hide the nakedness of their souls, orby the gayety of their own prattle to chill the fire which burnsaway their hearts. The merriest faces may be sometimes seen inmourning coaches; and so, the most melancholy souls, pinched andpining, sometimes stare at you out of the midst of superficialsmiles and light laughter.
Others seek rest in more adventurous action. Such are mariners,soldiers, merchants, speculators, politicians, travellers, impelledto adventurous life to relieve the aching void in their hearts. Thehazards of trade, the changes of political life, cause them toforget themselves, and so they are rocked into oblivion of internaldisquiet by the toss of the ocean waves. They forget the hollownessof their own hearts, and cheat themselves into the belief that theyare on their way to peace.
Is peace, is rest, so longed for, then, never to be found? Yes! ithas been found, though perhaps but seldom, and somewhat imperfectly.That is a state of rest for the soul when all man's powers workharmoniously together, none conflicting with another, none hinderinganother. This rest is complete when every special power in man'snature is active, and works towards some noble end, free to act, yetacting entirely in harmony, each with all, and all with each. Thatis what may be called self-command, self-possession, tranquillity,peace, rest for the soul. It is not indifference, it is notsluggishness; it is not sleep: it is activity in its perfectcharacter and highest mode.
Some few men seem born for this. Their powers are well-balanced. Butto most it comes only by labour and life-struggle. Most men, andabove all, most strong men, are so born and organized, that theyfeel the riddle of the world, and they have to struggle withthemselves. At first they are not well-balanced. One part of theirnature preponderates over another, and they are not in equilibrium.Like the troubled sea, they cannot rest. The lower powers andpropensities must be brought into subjection to the higher. All thepowers must be brought into harmony. This requires correct views oflife, knowledge of the truth, a strong will, a resolute purpose, ahigh idea, a mind that learns by experience to correct its wrongs.Thus he acquires the mastery over himself, and his passions becomehis servants, which were formerly masters. Reason prevails overfeeling, and duty over impulse. If he has lost a friend, he does notmourn inconsolably, nor seek to forget that friend. He turns histhoughts more frequently to where that friend has gone, and so hegoes on until it becomes to him a loss no longer, but rather again--a son, daughter, brother, or wife, immortal in the kingdom ofGod, rather than mortal and perishing on earth. Gradually heacquires a perfect command of himself, an equilibrium of all hisactive powers, and so is at rest.
What is more beautiful in the earthly life of Jesus, than this manlyharmony, equipoise, and rest? He enjoyed peace, and promised it toHis friends. And this peace of His, He did not for others postponeto a distant day, or shut up altogether in a future Heaven, but leftit to His disciples on earth. What, then, was His peace?
His peace was not inactivity. They must mistake who give a materialsense to the images of Heaven as a state of rest. If Christ's liferepresented Heaven, its peace is not slothful ease, but intenseexertion. How He laboured in word and deed of virtue! He walked incoarse raiment from town to town, from city to city, from thedessert to the waves of the sea. His ministry was toil from the dayof His baptism to the scene upon Calvary. And yet His life waspeace. He expressed no wish to retire to an unoccupied ease. Hisabsorption in duty was His joy. He was so peaceful because soengaged. His labours were the elements of His divine tranquillity.
And so active and earnest must we be, if we would have calmness andpeace. An appeal may here be made to every one's experience. Everyone will confess that when he had least to do, when mornings cameand went, and suns circled, and seasons rolled, and brought noserious business, then time was a burthen; existence a weariness;and the hungry soul, which craves some outward satisfaction, wasfound fallen back upon itself and preying upon its own vitality. Arenot the idlest of men proverbially the most miserable? And is notthe young woman often to be seen passing restless from place toplace, because exempt from the necessity of industry, till vanityand envy, growing rank in her vacant mind, makes her far more anobject of compassion than those who work hardest for a living? Theunemployed, then, are not the most peaceful. The labourer has adeeper peace than any idler ever knew. His toils make his shortpauses refreshing. Were those pauses prolonged they would be invadedby a miserable ennui. Perfect peace will be found here or hereafter,not when we sink down into torpor, but only when the soul is wroughtinto high action for high ends.
Another element of the peace of Jesus was His sinlessness. And allhuman experience testifies that nothing has so much disturbedtranquillity as conscious guilt, or the memory of wrong-doing. Peaceis forfeited by every transgression. Angry words, envious looks,unkind and selfish deeds, will all prevent peace from visiting ourhearts.
We have noticed already another element of peace--mental and moralharmony. There is a spiritual proportion when every power does itswork, every feeling fills its measure, and all make a common currentto bear the soul along to ever new peace and joy. Our inwarddiscords are the woes of life. The peaceful heart is quiet, notbecause inactive, but through intense harmonious working.
The cravings of the human heart for peace and rest must seeksatisfaction in the ways indicated, or fail of satisfaction. Theremust be activity, abstinence from guilt, and moral harmony. Thusalone can we receive the peace which Jesus said He would leave toHis true followers.
THE END.
* * * * * * * * * * * *