is the second, and by far the most impressive truth which underlies
the formula of sanctification--the truth that men are not only
mirrors, but that these mirrors, so far from being mere reflectors
of the fleeting things they see, transfer into their own inmost
substance, and hold in permanent preservation the things that they
reflect.
No one knows how the soul can hold these things. No one knows
how the miracle is done. No phenomenon in nature, no process in
chemistry, no chapter in necromancy can ever help us to begin to
understand this amazing operation. For, think of it, the past is
not only FOCUSED there, in a man's soul, it IS there. How could
it be reflected from there if it were not there? All things that
he has ever seen, known, felt, believed of the surrounding world
are now within him, have become part of him, in part are him--he
has been changed into their image. He may deny it, he may resent
it, but they are there. They do not adhere to him, they are
transfused through him. He cannot alter or rub them out. They
are not in his memory, they are in HIM. His soul is as they have
filled it, made it, left it. These things, these books, these
events, these influences are his makers. In their hands are life
and death, beauty and deformity. When once the image or likeness
of any of these is fairy presented to the soul, no power on earth
can hinder two things happening--it must be absorbed into the soul
and forever reflected back again from character.
Upon these astounding yet perfectly obvious psychological facts,
Paul bases his doctrine of sanctification. He sees that character
is a thing built up by slow degrees, that it is hourly changing
for better or for worse according to the images which flit across
it. One step further and the whole length and breadth of the
application of these ideas to the central problem of religion will
stand before us.