ation of corruption, even if they have
not the power to breathe a better spirit into the dead mass.

But the example of Christian men is not only repressive. It ought to
tempt forth all that is best and purest and highest in the people with
whom they come in contact. Every man who does right helps to make public
opinion in favour of doing right; and every man who lowers the standard
of morality in his own life helps to lower it in the community of which
he is a part. And so in a thousand ways that I have no need to dwell
upon here, the men that have Christ in their hearts and something of
Christ's conduct and character repeated in theirs are to be the
preserving and purifying influence in the midst of this corrupt world.

There are two other points that I name, and do not enlarge upon. The
first of them is--salt does its work by being brought into close contact
with the substance upon which it is to work. And so we, brought into
contact as we are with much evil and wickedness, by many common
relations of friendship, of kindred, of business, of proximity, of
citizenship, and the like,--we are not to seek to withdraw ourselves
from contact with the evil. The only way by which the salt can purify is
by being rubbed into the corrupted thing.

And once more, salt does its work silently, inconspicuously, gradually.
'Ye are the light of the world,' says Christ in the next verse. Light is
far-reaching and brilliant, flashing that it may be seen. That is one
side of Christian work, the side that most of us like best, the
conspicuous kind of it. Ay! but there is a very much humbler, and, as I
fancy, a very much more useful, kind of work that we have all to do. We
shall never be the 'light of the world,' except on condition of being
'the salt of the earth.' You have to play the humble, inconspicuous,
silent part of checking corruption by a pure example before you can
aspire to play the other part of raying out light into the darkness, and
so drawing men to Christ Himself.

Now, brethren, why do I repeat all these common, threadbare platitudes,
as I know they are? Simply in order to plant upon them this one question
to the heart and conscience of you Christian men and women:--Is there
anything in your life that makes this text, in its application to you,
other else than the bitterest mockery?

II. The grave possibility of the salt losing its savour.

There is no need for asking the question whether such loss is a physical
fac