It gives us joy in our loneliest hours. We love to think about it when we are all alone. Never are we less alone than when alone, for then it is we hear the sweetest whispers that ever fell on mortal ears. And when we hear the voice of our Beloved, can we be indifferent to his love? I tell thee, nay. Love, a faint reflection of his own, rises in our heart, and falling on our knees before him, we exclaim, "Lord, thou knowest all things; thou knowest that I love thee." Sadly we feel that it is a poor spark of love--nothing like his great love to us--yet we rejoice that the little spark is there, and pray that it may be kindled into a steady flame. "Lord, thou knowest all things." Oh how glad we are of this! Thou knowest every emotion of our heart toward thee. Thou knowest our grief because we do not love thee more. But this meditation has its practical bearings. We may not always dwell upon the high mountain apart thinking about our Saviour's love. Let our communion with Christ be as close and confidential as possible, but let us never forget that He who spent whole nights communing with his Father also spent whole days ministering to others. Let, then, the love of Christ constrain us. Standing safely upon the Rock Christ Jesus, let our hearts go out in pity for those who are still breasting the billows. Faint and exhausted, they seem ready to perish. "Help, Master, help!" Let our prayers for them ascend unceasingly. The Master is not far off, and in answer to our prayers he will come and rescue them with his strong arm. Let the love of Christ constrain us to labor for the perishing around us. This is our working-time, and this principle of love is the life of our work. This word "constrain" has several meanings. It might be thus expressed: "The love of Christ transports us." It carries away our souls in ecstasy even from earth to heaven, and fills us with holy rapture. How often at the table of the Lord have we been thus transported by thoughts of his everlasting love! And as we went on our pilgrim way we cast frequent glances back to that hour of heavenly brightness. Earth grew dim during those moments of holy communion. Fain would we have tabernacled there. The love of Christ _urges_ us, _prompts_ us. Sweet it will be to rest in the arms of his love. But this rest remaineth; we have not yet reached it; to the present belong toil and labor. There must be no loitering in the Christian life. Where the love of Christ fills the heart there can be no loitering. It is a prompting principle, ever leading us to new endeavors for the Master.