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.