So does the Lord clear up the doubts of his people, in the way which is best for them.  But he does not call them as blessed as others.  There is a higher faith than that.  There is a better part.  The same part which Mary chose.  The same faith of which our Lord says,—­ ‘Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet have believed.’  The faith of the heart; the childlike, undoubting, ready, willing faith, which welcomes the news of the Lord; which runs to meet it, and is not astonished at it; and, if it ever doubts for a moment, only doubts for very joy and delight; and feeling that the news of the gospel is good news, cannot help feeling now and then that it is too good news to be true; shewing its love and its faith in its very hesitation.  This is the childlike heart, whereof it is written, ’Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven.’

The hearts of little children; the hearts which begin by faith and love toward God himself; the hearts which know God; the hearts to whom God has revealed himself, and taught them, they know not how, that he is love.  They are so sure of God’s goodness, so sure of his power, so sure of his love, his willingness to have mercy, and to deliver poor creatures, that they find nothing strange, nothing difficult, in the mysteries of faith.  To them it is not a thing incredible, that God should have come down and died upon the cross.  When they hear the good news of him who gave his own life for them, it seems a natural thing to them, a reasonable thing:  not of course a thing which they could have expected; but yet not a thing to doubt of or to be astonished at.  For they know that God is love.

And now some of you may say, ’Then are we more blessed than Thomas?  We have not seen, and yet we have believed.  We never doubted.  We never wanted any arguments, or learned books, or special inward assurances.  From the moment that we began to learn our catechisms at school we believed it, of course, every word of it.  Do we not say the Creed every Sunday; I believe in—­and so forth?’ O my friends, do you believe indeed?  If you do, blessed are you.  But are you sure that you speak truth?

You may believe it.  But do you believe in it?  Have you faith in it?  Do you put your trust in it?  Is your heart in it?  Is it in your heart?  Do you love it, rejoice in it, delight to think over it; to look forward to it, to make yourselves ready and fit for it.  Do you believe in it, in short, or do you only believe it, as you believe that there is an Emperor of China, or that there is a country called America, or any other matter with which you have nothing to do, for which you care nothing, and which would make no difference at all to you, if you found out to-morrow that it was not so.  That is mere dead belief; faith without works, which is dead, the belief of the brains, not the faith of the heart and spirit.