that mortal men should suggest GOD to the world!
There is something almost melting in the way his contemporaries,
and John especially, speak of the influence of Christ. John lived
himself in daily wonder at Him; he was overpowered, over-awed,
entranced, transfigured. To his mind it was impossible for any one
to come under this influence and ever be the same again. "Whosoever
abideth in Him sinneth not," he said. It was inconceivable that he
should sin, as inconceivable as that ice should live in a burning
sun, or darkness coexist with noon. If any one did sin, it
was to John the simple proof that he could never have met Christ.
"Whosoever sinneth," he exclaims, "hath not seen HIM, neither known
HIM." Sin was abashed in this Presence. Its root withered. Its
sway and victory were forever at an end.
But these were His contemporaries. It was easy for THEM to be
influenced by Him, for they were every day and all the day together.
But how can we mirror that which we have never seen? How can all
this stupendous result be produced by a Memory, by the scantiest
of all Biographies, by One who lived and left this earth eighteen
hundred years ago? How can modern men to-day make Christ, the
absent Christ, their most constant companion still?