Harold St. John wrote: 'In a noble palace in the city of Venice, I once saw a magnificent ceiling beautifully painted, but the chamber was so lofty that the visitor could only see a confused vision of gorgeous colors. In the centre of the room stood a table inlaid with a horizontal mirror so skillfully placed that as one gazed into it, the picture above was reflected in its full beauty of form and hue.' It is as we gaze into the mirror of Scripture that the greatness and glory of our Lord comes into full view.—Indian Christian
(John 5. 39; 2 Cor. 3. 18)
There is an allegory that reads something like this: A man was complaining of his neighbors. 'I never saw such a wretched set of people,' he said, 'as there are in this village. They are mean, greedy of gain and careless. They are forever speaking evil of one another.'
`Is it really so?' asked the angel who was walking with him. 'It is indeed,' said the man. `Why, only look at this fellow coming toward us. I know his face though I cannot tell his name. See his little, sharp, cruel eyes darting here and there. The very droop of his shoulders is mean and cringing, and he slinks along instead of walking.'
`It is clever of you to see all this,' said the angel, 'but there is one thing which you do not perceive.'
`What is that?' asked the man.
`Why, that is a looking-glass we are approaching.'
The Scottish poet, Robert Burns, put the moral to that fable in this way:
`O wad some power the Giftie gi'e us
To see oorsel's as ithers see us.'
(James 1. 23-25)