I see now,
as I come near eternity, that one's foundations must be strong and sure
before one can build on them. I need now more than ever the blood of
Christ." This, perhaps, is one of the perils of the present day. The
Church is arraying herself in her beautiful garments. The gold pieces
of Christian thought and life are becoming current coin, taken from the
coffers, where they have too long lain, and distributed broadcast.
Treatises and tractlets on the innermost aspects of the blessed life
are plentiful as flowers in May. There is a danger, therefore, of
young converts and others occupying themselves with such themes, and
not paying sufficient attention to the Divine order.

Christ dying _for_ us on the cross must precede Christ living _in_ us
by His Spirit; justification with its evidences must be well
apprehended before sanctification with its fruits; the peace _with_ God
must shed its benediction over the soul before it can enter upon the
peace _of_ God. Ah soul! thou hast experienced the former; dost thou
know the latter? Dost thou know what it is for Christ to enter into
the closed doors of the inner chamber of the heart, and say, "Peace be
unto thee"? what it is to hear His voice speaking above the tumult of
the inland lake of thy soul, and making a great calm? what it is for
Him to deal with the springs of the inner life, which lie deeper than
emotion or fancy, and pour in His infinite serenity, so that the
outflow may be pellucid and tranquil?

Christ lays stress on _His_ peace. He must mean the very peace that
filled His own heart; not something like it, but the same, always
keeping the heart with the affections, and the mind with its thoughts.
This being so, we infer--

_That His peace is consistent with a perfect knowledge of coming
sorrow._--He knew all things that awaited Him (John xviii. 4): the
treachery of Judas, the denial by Peter, the forsaking by all, the
shame and spitting, the cross and grave; and yet He spoke serenely of
His peace. It is therefore consistent with the certain outlook toward
darkness and the shadow of death. You may know from certain symptoms
that cancer has struck its fangs into your flesh, and that paralysis
has begun to creep along your spine, that your dearest is barked by the
Woodsman for felling, that your means of subsistence will inevitably
dry up; but, facing all these, as Jesus faced the cross, you may still
be conscious of a peace that passeth understandi