'But, Lord, this ceaseless travail of my soul! This stress! This often fruitless toil These souls to win! They are not mine. I brought not forth this host Of needy creatures, struggling, tempest-tossed-- They are not _mine_.' He looked at them--the look of One divine; He turned and looked at me. '_But they are mine_!' 'O God, I said, 'I understand at last. Forgive! And henceforth I will bond-slave be To thy least, weakest, vilest ones; I would not more be free.' He smiled and said, '_It is to me_.'"[72] The word Gethsemane has not been used accurately sometimes. And it is not good that it is so, for it keeps us from appreciating what the real meaning is. In poetry and otherwise it has been used for some great experience of sorrow in which the soul has struggled alone. But there are two things in the Gethsemane experience that give it a meaning quite different from such. The Gethsemane sorrow is on account of the sin of others, _and_ it comes to us through our own consent, of our own action. We need not go through the Gethsemane experience save as we make the choice that comes to include this. It is only as we _choose_ to follow fully, close up to His bleeding side, where the Lord Jesus is leading, that this experience of pain will come. Moses knew what this meant. As he came from the presence of God in the mount the sin of the people seemed so terrible, that the fear that possibly it could not be forgiven unless he made some sacrifice sweeps over him and came out as a great sob.[73] The sight of their sin brought sorest pain to his spirit. Paul tells us there was a continual cutting of a knife at his heart because of his racial kinsfolk, their sin, their stubbornness in sin, the awful blight upon their lives.[74] There was sore, lone, unspeakable pain of spirit because he felt so keenly the sin of others. This is the Gethsemane experience. Have you felt something like this as you have come in touch with the sin, the blighted lives, the wreckage of lives among both poor and rich, lower class and better? You will if you follow where He leads. Calvary. Then came the morrow. _The experience of Calvary_ came hard on the heels of Gethsemane. The pain of spirit became both pain of body and pain of spirit, intensified clear beyond what the night before had anticipated. How shall I trust myself to speak of that morrow, or you to listen? Yet, let us hold still, and, for a great purpose, look at it again, if only for a moment, that the meaning of it, the flame of it may take fresh hold, and consume us anew.