(3.) As for those which do walk close to the rule of the gospel—I mean by a sincere endeavour—and thou seest no such peace and comfort, as we speak of, that they have, I answer,
(a) They may have it, and thou not know it. The saint's joy and peace is not such a light giggling joy as the world’s; res severa verum gaudium—true joy is a real thing. The parlour, wherein the Spirit of Christ entertains the Christian, is an inner room, not next to the street, for every one that goes by to smell the feast. ‘The stranger doth not intermeddle with his joy,’ Prov. 14:10. Christ and the soul may be at supper within, and thou not so much as see one dish go in, or hear the music that sounds so sweetly in the Christian’s ears. Perhaps thou thinkest he wants peace, because he doth not hang out a sign in his countenance of the joy and peace he hath within. Alas, poor wretch! may not the saint have a peaceful conscience with a solemn, yea sad countenance, as well as thou and thy companions have a sorrowful heart, when there is nothing but fair weather in your faces? ‘In laughter the heart is sorrowful,’ Prov. 14:13. Sure he means the wicked man’s laughter. It never looks more like rain with them than when it shines. Their conscience lowers when their face laughs. So, on the contrary, there is never more inward peace and comfort to be found in a saint’s bosom, than sometimes when his face is blubbered with tears. Shouldst thou come in and hear the Christian bemoaning himself, and complaining with sighs and sobs of his sins against God, thou wouldst go home, and cry out of this melancholy religion, and the sad condition this man was in. And yet he whom thou so pitiest can desire thee to save it for thyself, and not spend it in vain for him; for he would not part with that very sorrow that scares thee so much, for all the joy which the world, with all its gallantry, when best set forth, could afford. There is a mystery in this sorrow which thou canst not unriddle. Know therefore that there is a sorrow and anguish of heart which ariseth from the guilt of sin and the fearful apprehensions of God’s wrath due to sin; and another that flows, not from fear of wrath arising from guilt, but from the sense of sin’s inbeing in the soul, provoking the Christian to do that which is dishonourable to that God who hath pardoned his sins to him; and this is the sorrow which sometimes makes the saints go for sad uncomfortable creatures, when all the same time their hearts are as full of comfort from the sense of God’s pardoning mercy as they can hold. This sorrow is but like a summer shower, melted by the sense of God’s love, as that by the warm sun, and leaves the soul—as that doth a garden of sweet flowers—on which it falls, more fresh and odoriferous.
(b) Though some precious souls, that have closed with Christ, and embraced the gospel, be not at present brought to rest in their own consciences, but continue for a while under some dissatisfactions and troubles in their own spirits; yet even then they have peace of conscience in a threefold respect. In precio, in promisso, in semine—in what purchases it, in the promise, and in the germ.
Every true believer hath peace of conscience in precio —in the price. The gospel puts that price into his hand which will assuredly purchase it, and that is the blood of Christ. We say, ‘That is gold which is worth gold’—which we may anywhere exchange for gold. Such is the blood of Christ. It is peace of conscience, because the soul that hath it, may exchange it for this. God himself cannot deny the poor creature that prays on these terms, ‘Lord, give me peace of conscience, here is Christ's blood the price of it.’ That which could pay the debt, surely can procure the receipt. Peace of conscience is but a discharge under God's hand that the debt due to divine justice is fully paid. The blood of Christ hath done that the greater for the believer, it shall therefore do this the less. If there were such a rare potion, that did infallibly procure health to every one that takes it, we might safely say, as soon as the sick man hath drunk it down, that he hath drunk his health; it is in him, though at present he doth not feel himself to have it, in time it will appear.