The Morning and the Afternoon

“Ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace.’*

Isaiah Iv. 12.

IS there not a subsiding here! We go out with joy, but we are led onward with peace! Is not the transition from joy to peace a diminution of energy? No, it is a balance of energy. It is the change from a rapid river to a deep summer ocean. You might say, in a sense, that the rapid river subsides into the deep summer ocean; to subside means to sit down, and this is a sitting down. Yet, in its settled calm, the ocean has more energy than the river; no one would compare the extent of their powers. Human life exhibits some such transition. It passes from joy to peace. It begins with joy. It goes out into the world with youth’s elastic step; it sees in anticipation a city whose streets are paved with gold. By and by the excitement ceases. The tints become more sober, the paths less roseate. Romance settles down into duty; daily work takes the place of heroic aspiration; joy becomes peace. Yet the duty is stronger than the romance; the daily work is more difficult than the heroic aspiration; the peace is more powerful than the joy. Love in the nest is better than love on the wing. It is less brilliant, but it has more energy. What is the test of energy? It is permanence. Peace is more permanent than joy. Joy flutters for an hour, but its very fluttering makes it weary; peace never moves its wing for flight, but in its quiet nest it can abide for ever.

My soul, it is so with thy life in Jesus! Thou, too, hast thy time of going out and thy time of quiet progress — thy period of joy and thy period of peace. At first thou art lifted up. Earth recedes from thy view and the inhabitants thereof become as grasshoppers; it seems to thee as if thou couldst reach heaven ere nightfall. By and by thy wing becomes weary and thou fallest to the ground. Thou art compelled to tread the earth once more. The golden streets of the New Jerusalem arc exchanged for lane and alley. The prospect of heroic sacrifices is replaced by the call to trivial daily duty; and, instead of the command to bid the world good-bye, there comes the prosaic message, “Go, work to-day in my vineyard!” Rejoice, my soul! thy fall is a rise. Thy peace is larger than thy joy. Thy peace is better than thy poetry. Has a cloud hid thy Transfiguration glory? Weep not! that hiding is a revealing; it brings thee down to the plain. Is there silence in heaven for the space of half an hour? Weep not! the silence of the New Jersualem bells will let thee hear the sound of earth’s many voices. The joy of the morning can make thee forget thy cares; but the peace of the afternoon recalls thee to the memory of the cares of man!