fields of immensity, imparting light and warmth and vitality throughout his vast territories, and gladdening the numerous tribes of creatures which inhabit them.

But the comparison in the text is specific rather than general. It is to the going forth of the sun in his might—to his apparent motion round the earth, produced really by the revolution of the earth upon its axis. The Scriptures employ the language of common life when they describe the phenomena of the natural world.

The going forth of the sun is seen when he rises in glory in the eastern sky, and climbs the heavens in majestic splendor, scattering the mists and gloom of night; when with untiring steps he mounts the zenith, and bends his course along the western slope, till at the close of day he flings aslant over mountaintop and embosomed lake his parting beams, and dips his golden rim behind the horizon, to shine on other lands and gladden their inhabitants.

It is this tireless movement of the sun, this daily progress of the king of day, patrolling as with a giant’s tread the ramparts of the skies, that the text employs to illustrate the course of God’s people in the world.

Parallel to the text is the passage in Proverbs 4th: “The path of the just is as the shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.” Our subject is then to study the life and experience of the Christian as illustrated by the sun when he goeth forth in his might.

What more sublime and glorious sight can be conceived of than this every-day phenomenon, so common that it is unappreciated and almost unnoticed by the multitudes of busy men—the going forth of the sun in his might? O ye effeminate children of sloth, it is worth snatching a lazy hour from your feverish beds, to rise before the dawn, and watch how the shadows of the night gradually soften and flee away at the approach of the sun-rising, and how the eastern sky lifts her curtains of crimson and gold to welcome his coming. The various tribes of animated creation rejoice on every side. The lark warbles his glad notes, and soars high in the air to catch his first beams.

It is the sun going forth in his might that quickens the life-pulse of nature, and scatters the gloom which enshrouded her. Fresh and joyous as a bridegroom coming out of his chamber, he lifts his head above the hills, and bathes the earth in the splendor of his rays. Shadows retreat through glen and valley to their caves. Breezes gently touch the forest-leaves, and chant their matinee. Placid lakes from their mirrored surface toss back the day-beams. Dew-drops pendent on the flower-petals glisten like diamonds on a vestal’s brow. Cascade and cataract with their silvery spray weave mimic rainbows in his beams. Distant mountains in solemn grandeur lift their tall peaks like golden turrets in the sky; while from jutting promontory and wave-washed beech old ocean peals out her deep, full diapason, and hails the advent of the day. Ah, when I gaze upon a scene like this, I cease to wonder that in other lands, unvisited by the gospel, the Parsee bows and worships the rising sun, and lifts his hands and prays with rapt devotion to the orb of day.

Follow the sun’s course from the horizon upward; how, never halting, never wearying, he drives his fire-chariot through the long circuit of the heavens. And when at close of day he bids us a short adieu, it is not with the jaded look of an exhausted courier whose strength is gone, but with the same effulgent countenance that he wore before. Still does he go forth in his might when, at evening, from his broad disc he throws with lavish profusion his effulgence over the floating clouds in the vault above, and over hill-top and plain stretched out below.

Would you take the full meaning of the sun’s going forth in his might, you must bear in mind that this his glorious career is not the phenomenon of a day, but that precisely thus has he fulfilled his mission through weary centuries—that on the generations long forgotten he shone with the same exhaustless splendor; and that since creation’s birth, when he was commissioned by the Almighty to rule the day, he has never failed to walk the skies. Centuries have not wearied him; ages have marked no wrinkles on his brow; but as when the world was new he circled it with light and beauty, so now with the same might does he go forth weariless, changeless.

What is there in this going forth of the sun in his might analogous to the life of the people of God? Where is the point of comparison? How is the moral experience of a Christian to be likened to this going forth of the sun? Unlike the sun, he is not the centre of a mighty system. Unlike the sun, he has no inherent light to scatter around him. Rather like the moon than like the sun does he shine, borrowing all his light from Christ the Sun of righteousness; just as the moon gathers what beams she has from the sun, and reflects them towards us with fainter and more subdued radiance. Like the moon, the Christian shines only when shone upon.

In speaking of Bible imagery, we must beware of straining the figures employed, and forcing upon them an interpretation which is beyond their natural meaning.

The text does not compare the light of the Christian with the light of the sun, but simply the Christian with the going forth of the sun.

The analogy then leads us to speak, in the first place, of the progressive nature of the Christian’s life—his constant upward advancement.

The sun is ever going forth. There is no pause nor cessation to his movements. Tempests and storms sweep over us, and calms succeed; changes and revolutions mark every thing here on earth, but the sun stops not in his career. His work is never done.

Even so is the Christian life—an onward movement, an advancement step by step in the work of grace.

As Christians, there is no such thing as our standing still, or resting satisfied with our present attainments in knowledge and holiness. It is this onward impulse, this disposition to push forward, this ardent longing for increasing grace, which is one of the strongest evidences that we are truly Christians. Hypocrites and self-deceived ones occasionally are susceptible of religious emotion. Hypocrites may join the church, and stay there till they die, and yet feel no need of progress. But where grace is truly felt, it causes the believer to long for more. The least conformity to the divine image begets a desire for more holiness. It can be satisfied only by awaking in his likeness. “Not as though I had already attained,” “I count not myself to have apprehended,” is the sentiment of every true Christian soul. “I press towards the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus,” is the fixed purpose of every believer.

The Christian’s efforts in grace are not self-exhausting, but self-invigorating. The more he runs, the swifter of foot is he. The duties of yesterday never weary his strength for to-day.

Would you test your piety? then look not back in the distance of years to find the evidences of your salvation. But look at the passing weeks and months, to trace along their history the workings of divine grace. And Oh, let me warn you that you are trusting in a false and empty hope, unless there be found in your experience a growing conformity to Christ your Saviour, a series of conquests over temptations and besetting sins, a steadier fidelity in Christian duty, a deeper spirituality, a giving way of carnal lusts, a stronger faith, a brighter hope, and a nearer anticipation of heaven and glory. For if you are