last the place where His loving lips had to cry "My God,
My God, why hast Thou forsaken me?"

"To death of shame Thy love did reach,
God's holy judgment then to bear;
Ah, Lord, what human tongue can teach
_Or tell the love that brought Thee there_."

Ah! what human tongue can teach or tell the Love that brought Thee
there! It passeth knowledge. But with loving, praising hearts, in
worship and adoration we can look up to that cross on which the
Prince of Glory died and say with Paul, "He loved me, He gave
Himself for me." And again we join with the innumerable hosts of His
own redeemed in the Glory song. "Unto Him that loveth us and washed
us from our sins in His own blood and hath made us Kings and priests
unto God and His Father, to Him be Glory and dominion forever.
Amen." And beloved reader, that Love which knew you and us all
before we ever existed, that Love which came from Glory for you,
that Love which went into the jaws of death, endured the cross and
despised the shame, that Love which gave so willingly, gave as we
can never give, that Love is still the same. It changes not. His
Love knows no fluctuations. That perfect Love cannot grow cold or
indifferent. We all had our first love; when first we saw Him with
the eyes of faith, how our hearts were enraptured. How soon that
Love began to grow cold and decreased instead of increased. Then our
walk and service became affected for thus it must ever be when the
heart is not responding to His Love and not in living, loving touch
with Himself. Oh! the weeks and months and years of our Christian
experience spent without the full enjoyment of His Love and
Presence. But has this changed His Love? Has our unfaithfulness, our
waywardness, our failure and backsliding affected His Love? No. He
is the same loving Lord, the same loving Christ who has borne us and
yearned over us, who has prayed for us and kept us. Whenever we turn
to Him with broken hearts, confessing our sins, when in shame we
hide our faces and tell Him all our failures, we find Him still the
same loving Lord as He was when His loving eyes rested upon Peter.
Oh! how He must love us! How He must love us, with that Love which
passeth knowledge. What treasures that Love contains! Exhaustless it
is ever flowing full and free towards His own.

How it must grieve Him to see us so indifferent, neither hot nor
cold. How it must grieve Him that we enjoy this Love so little that
we permit that