lence on our parts, but only by reason of the blind
eyes, before which the full-orbed radiance gleams in vain. All this
is as true for every one possessing that universal prerogative of
seeing the glory of Christ, as it is for an Apostle. The business of
all such is to make known the name of Jesus, and if from idleness, or
carelessness, or selfishness, they shirk that plain duty, they are
counteracting God's very purpose in shining on their hearts, and
going far to quench the light which they darken.

Take this, then, Christian men and women, as a plain practical lesson
from this text. You are bound to manifest what you believe, and to
make the secret of your lives, in so far as possible, an open secret.
Not that you are to drag into light before men the sacred depths of
your own soul's experience. Let these lie hid. The world will be none
the better for your confessions, but it needs your Lord. Show Him
forth, not your own emotions about Him. What does the Apostle say
close by my text? 'We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the
Lord.' Self-respect and reverence for the sanctities of our deepest
emotions forbid our proclaiming these from the house-tops. Let these
be curtained, if you will, from all eyes but God's, but let no folds
hang before the picture of your Saviour that is drawn on your heart.
See to it that you have the unveiled face turned towards Christ to be
irradiated by His brightness, and the unveiled face turned towards
men, from which shall shine every beam of the light which you have
caught from your Lord. 'Arise! shine, for thy light is come, and the
glory of the Lord is risen upon thee!'

II. Notice, secondly, that this life of contemplation is therefore a
life of gradual transformation.

The brightness on the face of Moses was only skin-deep. It faded
away, and left no trace. It effaced none of the marks of sorrow and
care, and changed none of the lines of that strong, stern face. But,
says Paul, the glory which we behold sinks inward, and changes us as
we look, into its own image. Thus the superficial lustre, that had
neither permanence nor transforming power, becomes an illustration of
the powerlessness of law to change the moral character into the
likeness of the fair ideal which it sets forth. And, in opposition to
its weakness, the Apostle proclaims the great principle of Christian
progress, that the beholding of Christ leads to the assimilation to
Him.

The metaphor of a mirror does not