In the depth of troubles we learn the sufficiency of grace. Well may
they “glory in tribulations also,” who have learnt in them the most
profitable lessons of grace–proved in them how ample is the provision
of grace, and realized in them the certainty of the triumph of grace. I
know not whether all soldiers love the thought of war–some do; there
are many who pant for a campaign. How often an officer of low rank has
repeated the murmur, “There is no promotion; no hope of rising; no
honors; no prize-money, as if we had to fight. Could we rush to the
cannon’s mouth, there would be some prospect before us of gaining
promotion in the ranks.” Men get few medals to hang upon their breasts
who never know the smell of gunpowder. The brave days, as men call them, of Nelson and Trafalgar have gone by; and we thank God for it. Still we
do not expect to see such brave old veterans, the offspring of this age,
as those who are still to be found lingering in our hospitals, the
relics of our old campaigns. No, brethren, we must have trials if we are
to get on. Young men do not become midshipmen altogether through going to the school at Greenwich, and climbing the mast on dry land; they must
go out to sea. We must do business in great waters; we must be really on
the deck in a storm, if we would see the works of the Lord and his
wonders in the deep. We must have stood side by side with King David; we must have gone down into the pit to slay the lion, or have lifted up the
spear against the eight hundred, if we would know the saving strength of
God’s right hand. Conflicts bring experience, and experience brings that
growth in grace which is not to be attained by any other means.