th its beams. So the Christian shines, it would say, not
so much because he will, as because he is a luminous object. Not that
the active influence of Christians is made of no account in the figure,
but only that this symbol of light has its propriety in the fact
that their unconscious influence is the chief influence, end has the
precedence in its power over the world. And yet there are many who will
be ready to think that light is a very tame and feeble instrument,
because it is noiseless. An earthquake for example, is to them a much
more vigorous, and effective agency. Hear how it comes thundering
through the solid foundations of nature. It rocks a whole continent. The
noblest works of man--cities, monuments, and temples--are in a moment
levelled to the ground or swallowed down the opening gulfs of fire....
But lot the light of the morning cease, and return no more: let the
hour of morning come, and bring with it no dawn; the outcries of a
horror-stricken world fill the air, and make, as it were, the darkness
audible. The beasts go wild and frantic at the loss of the sun. The
vegetable growths turn pale and die. A. chill creeps on, and frosty
winds begin to howl across the freezing earth. Colder and yet colder
is the night. The vital blood, at length, of all creatures stops,
congealed. Down goes the frost toward the earth's centre. The heart of
the sea is frozen; nay, the earthquakes are themselves frozen in,
under their fiery caverns. The very globe itself, too, and all the
fellow-planets that have lost their sun, are become mere balls of ice,
swinging silent in the darkness. Such is the light which revisits us in
the silence of the morning. It make no shock or scar. It would not wake
an infant in his cradle. And yet it perpetually new creates the world,
rescuing it each morning as a prey from night and chaos. So the
Christian is a light, even "the light of the world;" and we must not
think that, because he shines insensibly or silently, as a mere luminous
object, he is therefore powerless. The greatest powers are ever those
which lie back of the little stirs and commotions of nature: and I
verily believe that the insensible influences of good men are as much
more potent than what I have called their voluntary or active, as the
great silent powers of nature are of greater consequence than her little
disturbances and tumults. The law of human influence is deeper than many
suspect, and they lose sight of it altogether.