emblem of three baleful things, of the converse of which light is
the symbol. As the darkness speaks to us of ignorance, so Christ, as
the Sun illumines us with the light of 'the knowledge of the glory
of God in the face of Jesus Christ.' For doubt we have blessed
certainty, for a far-off God we have the knowledge of God close at
hand. For an impassive will or a stony-eyed fate we have the
knowledge (and not only the wistful yearning after the knowledge) of
a loving heart, warm and throbbing. Our God is no unemotional
abstraction, but a living Person who can love, who can pity, and we
are speaking more than poetry when we say, God is compassion, and
compassion is God. This we know because 'He that hath seen Me hath
seen the Father.' And the solid certainty of a loving God, tender,
pitying, mighty to help, quick to hear, ready to forgive, waiting to
bless, is borne into our hearts, and comes there, sweet as the
sunshine, when we turn ourselves to the light of Christ.

In like manner the darkness, born of our own sin, which wraps our
hearts, and shuts out so much that is fair and sweet and strong,
will pass away if we turn ourselves to Him. His light pouring into
our souls will hurt the eye at first, but it will hurt to cure. The
darkness of sin and alienation will pass, and the true light will
shine.

The darkness of sorrow--well! it will not cease, but He will 'smooth
the raven down of darkness till it smiles,' and He will bring into
our griefs such a spirit of quiet submission as that they shall
change into a solemn scorn of ills, and be almost like gladnesses.
Peace, which is better than exuberant delight, will come to quiet
the sorrow of the soul that trusts in Jesus Christ. The day which is
knowledge, purity, gladsomeness, the cheerful day will be ours if we