_Ye are the salt of the earth. But if the salt hath lost its savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and trodden under foot of men. Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle and put it under a bushel; but on a candlestick, and it giveth light to all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven._ 1. *THE beauty of holiness, of that inward man of the heart, which is renewed after the image of God, cannot but strike every eye which God hath opened, every enlightened understanding. The ornament of a meek, humble, loving spirit, will at least excite the approbation of all those who are capable in any degree of discerning spiritual good and evil. From the hour men begin to emerge out of the darkness which covers the giddy, unthinking world, they cannot but perceive how desirable a thing it is, to be thus transformed into the likeness of him that created us. This inward religion bears the shape of God, so visibly imprest upon it, that a soul must be wholly immersed in flesh and blood, when he can doubt of its divine original. We may say of this, in a secondary sense, even as of the Son of God himself, That it is the _brightness of his glory, the express image of his person_: ἀπαύγασμα ♦τῆς δόξης αὐτοῦ· _The beaming forth of his_ eternal _glory_; and yet so tempered and softened, that even the children of men, may herein see God and live: χαρακτὴρ τῆς ὑποστάσεως αὐτοῦ· _The character, the stamp, the living impression, of his person_, who is the fountain of beauty and love, the original source of all excellency and perfection. 3. If religion therefore were carried no farther than this, they could have no doubt concerning it: they should have no objection against pursuing it with the whole ardor of their souls. But why, say they, is it cloged with other things? What need of loading it with _doing_ and _suffering_? These are what damps the vigour of the soul and sinks it down to earth again. Is it not enough to _follow after charity_? To soar upon the wings of love? Will it not suffice, to worship God who is a Spirit, with the spirit of our minds, without incumbring ourselves with outward things, or even thinking of them at all? Is it not better, that the whole extent of our thoughts should be taken up with high and heavenly contemplation? And that instead of busying ourselves at all about externals, we should only commune with God in our hearts?