wholly serve us here. When the
sunbeams fall upon it, it flashes in the light, just because they do
not enter its cold surface. It is a mirror, because it does not drink
them up, but flings them back. The contrary is the case with these
sentient mirrors of our spirits. In them the light must first sink in
before it can ray out. They must first be filled with the glory,
before the glory can stream forth. They are not so much like a
reflecting surface as like a bar of iron, which needs to be heated
right down to its obstinate black core, before its outer skin glows
with the whiteness of a heat that is too hot to sparkle. The sunshine
must fall on us, not as it does on some lonely hill-side, lighting up
the grey stones with a passing gleam that changes nothing, and fades
away, leaving the solitude to its sadness; but as it does on some
cloud cradled near its setting, which it drenches and saturates with
fire till its cold heart burns, and all its wreaths of vapour are
brightness palpable, glorified by the light which lives amidst its
mists. So must we have the glory sink into us before it can be
reflected from us. In deep inward beholding we must have Christ in
our hearts, that He may shine forth from our lives.

And this contemplation will be gradual transformation. There is the
great principle of Christian morals. 'We all beholding ... are
changed.' The power to which is committed the perfecting of our
characters lies in looking upon Jesus. It is not the mere beholding,
but the gaze of love and trust that moulds us by silent sympathy into
the likeness of His wondrous beauty, who is fairer than the children
of men. It was a deep, true thought which the old painters had, when
they drew John as likest to his Lord. Love makes us like. We learn
_that_ even in our earthly relationships, where habitual familiarity
with parents and dear ones stamps some tone of voice or look, or
little peculiarity of gesture, on a whole house. And when the
infinite reverence and aspiration which the Christian soul cherishes
to its Lord are superadded, the transforming power of loving
contemplation of Him becomes mighty beyond all analogies in human
friendship, though one in principle with these. What a marvellous
thing that a block of rude sandstone, laid down before a perfect
marble, should become a copy of its serene loveliness just by lying
there! Lay your hearts down before Christ. Contemplate Him. Love Him.
Think about Him. Let that pure f