We are saved by faith, and not by feeling; yet there is a relation
between holy faith and hallowed feeling like that between the root and
the flower. Faith is permanent as the root which is ever embedded in the
soil; feeling is casual, and has its seasons–the bulb does not always
shoot up the green stem, far less is it always crowned with its many
flowers. Faith is the tree, the essential tree: our feelings are like
the appearance of that tree during the different seasons of the year.
Sometimes our soul is full of bloom and blossom, and the bees hum
pleasantly, and gather honey within our hearts. It is then that our
feelings bear witness to the life of our faith, just as the buds of
spring bear witness to the life of the tree. Anon, our feelings gather
still greater vigor, and after we come to the summer of our delights,
again perhaps, we begin to wither into the sear and yellow leaf of
autumn; nay, sometimes the winter of our despondency and despair will
strip away every leaf from the tree, and our poor faith stands like a
blasted stem without a sign of verdure. And yet, so long as the tree of
faith is there, we are saved. Whether faith blossom or not, whether it
bring forth joyous fruit in our experience or not, so long as it be
there in all its permanence, we are saved. Yet should we have the
gravest reason to distrust the life of our faith, if it did not
sometimes blossom with joy, and often bring forth fruit unto holiness.