He who goes about his everyday duty as the work the Father has given him
to do, is he who lets his light shine. But such a man will not be
content with this: he must yet let his light shine. Whatever makes his
heart glad, he will have his neighbour share. The body is a lantern; it
must not be a dark lantern; the glowing heart must show in the shining
face. His glad thought may not be one to impart to his neighbour, but he
must not quench the vibration of its gladness ere it reach him. What
shall we say of him who comes from his closet, his mountain-top, with
such a veil over his face as masks his very humanity? Is it with the
Father that man has had communion, whose every movement is
self-hampered, and in whose eyes dwell no smiles for the people of his
house? The man who receives the quiet attentions, the divine
ministrations, of wife or son or daughter, without token of pleasure,
without sign of gratitude, can hardly have been with Jesus. Or can he
have been with him, and have left him behind in his closet? If his faith
in God take from a man his cheerfulness, how shall the face of a man
ever shine? And why are they always glad before the face of the Father
in heaven? It is true that pain or inward grief may blameless banish all
smiling, but even heaviness of heart has no right so to tumble the
bushel over the lamp that no ray can get out to tell that love is yet
burning within. The man must at least let his dear ones know that
something else than displeasure with them is the cause of his clouded
countenance.

What a sweet colour the divine light takes to itself in courtesy, whose
perfection is the recognition of every man as a temple of the living
God. Sorely ruined, sadly defiled the temple may be, but if God had left
it, it would be a heap and not a house.

Next to love, specially will the light shine out in fairness. What light