is between joy and hope. We have no
right to say, 'Because I suffer, I shall possess good in the future';
but we have a right to say, 'Because I rejoice'--of course with a joy
in God--'I shall never cease to rejoice in Him.' Such joy is the
prophet of its own immortality and completion. And, on the other
hand, the joy and peace which are naturally the direct progenitors of
Christian hope, are the children of faith. So that we have here two
generations, as it were, of hope's ancestors;--Faith produces joy and
peace, and these again produce hope.

Faith leads to joy and peace. Paul has found, and if we only put it
to the proof, we shall also find, that the simple exercise of simple
faith fills the soul with '_all_ joy and peace.' Gladness in all
its variety and in full measure, calm repose in every kind and
abundant in its still depth, will pour into my heart as water does
into a vessel, on condition of my taking away the barrier and opening
my heart through faith. Trust and thou shalt be glad. Trust, and thou
shalt be calm. In the measure of thy trust shall be the measure of
thy joy and peace.

Notice, further, how indissolubly connected the present exercise of
faith is with the present experience of joy and peace. The exuberant
language of this text seems a world too wide for anything that many
professing Christians ever know even in the moments of highest
elevation, and certainly far beyond the ordinary tenor of their
lives. But it is no wonder that these should have so little joy, when
they have so little faith. It is only while we are looking to Jesus
that we can expect to have joy and peace. There is no flashing light
on the surface of the mirror, but when it is turned full to the sun.
Any interruption in the electric current is registered accurately by
an interruption in the continuous line perforated on the telegraph
ribbon; and so every diversion of heart and faith from Jesus Christ
is recorded by the fading of the sunshine out of the heart, and the
silencing of all the song-birds. Yesterday's faith will not bring joy
to-day; you cannot live upon past experience, nor feed your souls
with the memory of former exercises of Christian faith. It must be
like the manna, gathered fresh every day, else it will rot and smell
foul. A present faith, and a present faith only, produces a present
joy and peace. Is there, then, any wonder that so much of the
ordinary experience of ordinary Christians should present a sadly