Finally, John described himself metaphorically in that inimitable prophetic speech which explains in full the idea that he formed for himself of his ministry.  Under the sway of a morbid curiosity, the crowd, more perplexed by the appearance of the worker than attentive to the work, prest him with questions.  Who then art thou, mysterious preacher?  Art thou one of the old prophets of Israel, escaped from his rocky tomb?  Or art thou perchance He whom we await?  No, answered John, I am neither one of the prophets nor the Messiah himself, I am no one:  I am a voice!

I am a voice!  This is not a formula that sums up the vocation of the prophets solely, or of all those who, in the pulpit or in the tribune, by the pen or by the public discourse, exert an influence upon their contemporaries.  These words are addrest to every one.  They define for every man, the humble yet great duty of truth that he is called to fulfil in his sphere and according to the measure of his ability.  At the epoch in which we live, such a device is so applicable to the time being, so pressing, so needful for us to hear, that it is wise to engrave it in the very foreground of our consciousness.

To become a voice we must begin by keeping still.  We must listen.  The whole world is a tongue of which the spirit is the meaning.  God engraved its fiery capitals in the immensity of the heavens, and traced its delicate smaller letters on the flower, on the grass, on the human soul, as rich, as incommensurable as the abysses of space.  Whosoever you are, brother, before letting yourself utter one word, lend your ear to that voice that seeks you, I might almost add, that implores you.  Listen!—­Listen to the confused murmur that arises from the human depths, and that, comprising in it all tears, all torments, as well as all joys, becomes the sigh of creation.

Listen in your heart to remorse, the sad and poignant echo that sin, traversing life, leaves everywhere upon its passage.  Shut your ear to no sound, however unobtrusive, however sad, it may be.  There are voices that issue from the tombs, others that call to you from out the abyss of past ages; repel them not, listen!  One and all, they have something to say to you.

But do not be content with listening to man.  Pierce nature, and, in visible creation as in the invisible sanctuary of souls, watch attentively for the revelation of Him whose eternal thought every living thing, humble or sublime, translates after its own fashion.  He speaks to you in the dark nights and in the bright light of dawn, in the infinite radiance of the worlds beyond all reckoning, and in the humble stalk that awaits, in the valley bottom, its ray of light and its drop of dew.  Listen!—­If there is anguish in the voice of poor humanity, there are in great nature profound words of soothing, of hope.  Look at the flower in the fields, listen to the birds in the skies!  After the distrest voices that perturb you, you shall know the voices