There is something inexpressibly touching in this thought, especially if we regard the possibility that some one now breathing on this globe may have been the last one for whom the Lord waited on the cross! Perhaps some prodigal for whose soul a mother is now wrestling in prayer; perhaps some poor heathen slave in a distant land; perhaps some despised one brought up in haunts of vice, the answer to whose first cry of faith and repentance, "God be merciful to me a sinner," will be the sound of the trumpet announcing that the world's great suffering-time is ended, and that the last saved soul being gathered in, the glorious Sabbath shall commence!
Let us pause for a few moments, and with closed eyes and bended knees attempt to realize the thought,—"the Saviour waited on the cross for me!" For "me" was that awful thirst, for "me" that intolerable pain. Christ would not save Himself from a death of torture, because—with all my coldness, selfishness, sinfulness—He could not, would not, suffer me to perish!
A few words inscribed under a picture of the Crucifixion were once made the means of converting a soul; they were as a question from Him who hung on the cross, these touching words are addressed to us all—what reply dare we return? "I suffered this for thee; what dost thou for Me?"
[XLI.]
The Stone at the Sepulchre.
WHO has not known the pang of bereavement,—
"When sorrowing o'er the stone we bend,
Which covers what was once a friend,
And from his hand—his voice—his smile,
Divides us for a little while?"
Let the mourner draw nigh to this stone which closed the sepulchre of the Lord, and beneath its quiet shadow meditate on the solemn and most blessed doctrine of the resurrection.