perfectly consistent with the unruffled calm
which marked His whole career. So peace is not stolid indifference, nor
is it to be found in the avoidance of difficult duties, or the cowardly
shirking of sacrifices and pains and struggles; but rather it is 'peace
subsisting at the heart of endless agitation,' of which the great
example stands in Him who was 'the Man of Sorrows and acquainted with
grief,' and who yet, in it all, was 'the Lord of Peace.'

Why was Christ's manhood so perfectly tranquil? The secret lies here. It
was a manhood in unbroken communion with the Father. And what was the
secret of that unbroken communion with the Father? It lies here, in the
perfect submission of His will. Resignation is peace. The surrender of
self-will is peace. Obedience is peace. Trust is peace, and fellowship
with the divine is peace. So Christ has taught us in His life--'The
Father hath not left Me alone, because I do always the things that
please Him.' And therein He has marked out for us the path of
righteousness and communion, which is ever the path of peace. 'Thou wilt
keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he
trusteth in Thee.' That is the secret of the tranquillity of the
ever-calm Christ.

Being thus the Lord of Peace, inasmuch as it was His own constant and
unbroken possession, He is the sole giver of it to others.

Ah! brethren, our hearts want far more, for their stable restfulness,
than we can find in any hand, or in any heart, except those of Jesus
Christ Himself. For what do we need? We need, in order that we should
know the sweetness of repose, an adequate object for every part of our
nature. If we find something that is good and sweet and satisfying for
some portion of this complex being of ours, all its other hungry desires
are apt to be left unappeased. So we are shuttle-cocked from one wish to
another, and bandied about from one partial satisfaction to another, and
in them all it is but segments of our being that are satisfied, whilst
all the rest of the circumference remains disquieted. We need that, in
one attainable and single object, there shall be at once that which will
subjugate the will, that which will illuminate and appease the
conscience, that which will satisfy the seeking intellect, and hold
forth the promise of endless progress in insight and knowledge, that
which will meet all the desires of our ravenous clamant nature, and
that which will fill every creek and cranny o