against it.' I should think they could not.

But there is one thing that will always characterise the true
witnesses to that Light, and that is self-suppression. Remember the
beautiful, immovable humility of the Baptist about whom these texts
were spoken: 'What sayest thou of thyself?' 'I am a Voice,' that is
all. 'Art thou that Prophet?' 'No!' 'Art thou the Christ?' 'No! I am
nothing but a Voice.' And remember how, when John's disciples tried to
light the infernal fires of jealousy in his quiet heart by saying, 'He
whom thou didst baptise, and to whom thou didst give witness'--He whom
thou didst start on His career--'is baptising,' poaching upon thy
preserves, 'and all men come unto Him,' the only answer that he gave
was, 'The friend of the Bridegroom'--who stands by in a quiet, dark
corner--'rejoices greatly because of the Bridegroom's voice.' Keep
yourself out of sight, Christian teachers and preachers; put Christ in
the front, and hide behind Him.

II. Now let me ask you to look at the other contrast that is suggested
by our other text. The underived light and the kindled lamps.

It is possible to read the words of that second text thus--'He was a
lamp kindled and (therefore) shining.' But whether that be the
meaning, or whether the usual rendering is correct, the emblem itself
carries the same thought, for a lamp must be lit by contact with a
light, and must be fed with oil, if its flame is to be sustained. And
so the very metaphor-whatever the force of the ambiguous word--in its
eloquent contrast between the Light and the lamp, suggests this
thought, that the one is underived, self-fed, and therefore undying,
and that the other owes all its flame to the touch of that uncreated
Light, and burns brightly only on condition of its keeping up the