Only through the understanding and right practice of Christianity can one finally enter into "the secret place of the most High," where no enemy can intrude to assail his peace. All mortals sigh for peace, yet it is vain to seek peace so long as one believes in the reality and power and presence of evil. In order to be free from the aggravating friction of human associations, one may exclude himself from the society of men; nevertheless, sin, disease, misfortune, and consequent unhappiness may intrude themselves into his hermitage. At length, failing to find satisfaction in seclusion, he may emerge to mingle once more with his fellow-beings and win the reward of tranquillity in return for unselfish service in their behalf. But is tranquillity secured through such service alone? What of philanthropists and reformers? Do we not know of the stones cast at their best deeds, of the falsehoods circulated to blacken their purest motives, — yea, of the scalding tears they have shed because those whom they loved and served repaid them with ingratitude, envy, jealousy, hatred, and revenge? Moreover, have we not all, at some time, stood in anguished loneliness because some person we loved had set the foot of indifference or contempt upon the bestowal of our tenderest affection? and in that hour did not the whole world seem to sink into insignificance, because it had nothing to offer in alleviation of our sorrow? We did not then know God as we do now. We believed Him to be good, and that He would finally heal every wound and wipe away all tears, but only in a world beyond the grave, — a world entirely separate from this present life. To our hopes the after-life was like an unopened book laid upon a shelf, far beyond our present reach; we would rise to it some day, some day we would read its pages, but to-day we knew not what was written therein, and felt comparatively little interest in the matter. Indeed, our interests were centered upon the affairs of this world, and if they did not afford the mortal and material bud, blossom, and fruitage of success and happiness, we accounted existence a failure.
Educated into a conviction of the reality of evil, mortal man's consciousness is more or less an expression of this conviction. Mingled with the gold of human character are selfishness, greed, pride, self-will, egotism, ambition, anger, retaliation, etc. These errors stir uneasily in mortal thought and, when manifested towards others, rebound sharply upon the one who entertains them. Failing to rule by force of will, to win applause, or gain his ends, mortal man becomes aggrieved, disappointed, resentful, and thus even his good deeds are ofttimes unappreciated. There is no peace here.
Another man may ask little of others, but may sit as a judge and critic of their conduct. He is a trespasser upon others' rights of conscience, and his self-imposed punishment is great, sometimes unbearable. The constant contemplation of evil as a reality, and the sin of fastening it upon others in the spirit of condemnation, irritates his thought, and renders him unlovely and unlovable. He is like a thornbush, calling forth resentment and aversion from those when he lacerates. There is no peace here.
