Then my estimate, my apprehension of the love of Christ must come in between its manifestation and its power to grip, to restrain, to impel me.  If I may use such a figure, He stands, as it were, bugle in hand, and blows the sweet strains that are meant to set the echoes flying.  But the rock must receive the impact of the vibrations ere it can throw back the thinned echo of the music.  Love must be believed and known ere it can be responded to.

Now the only answer and echo that hearts desire is the love of the beloved heart.  We all know that in our earthly life.  Love is as much a hunger to be loved as the outgoing of my own affection.  The two things are inseparable, and there is nothing that repays love but love.  Jesus Christ wishes each of us to love Him.  If it is true that He loves me, then, intertwisted with the outgoing of His heart towards me is the yearning that my heart may go out towards Him.  Dear brethren, this is no pulpit rhetoric, it is a plain, simple fact, inseparable from the belief in Christ’s love—­that He wishes you and every soul of man to love Him, and that, whatever else you bring, lip reverence, orthodox belief, apparent surrender, in the assay shop of His great mint all these are rejected, and the only metal that passes the fire is the pure gold of an answering love.  Brethren! is that what you bring to Jesus Christ?

Love seeks for love, and our love can only be an echo of His.  He takes the beginning in everything.  If I am to love Him back again, I must have faith in His love to me.  And if that be so, then the true way by which you, imperfect Christian people, can deepen and strengthen your love to Jesus Christ is not so much by efforts to work up a certain warmth of sentiment and glow of affection, as by gazing, with believing eyes of the heart, upon that which kindles your love to Him.  If you want ice to melt, put it out into the sunshine, If you want the mirror to gleam, do not spend all your time in polishing it.  Carry it where it can catch the ray, and it will flash it back in glory.  ‘We love Him because He first loved us.’  Our love is an echo; be sure that you listen for the parent note, and link yourselves by faith with that great love which has come down from Heaven for us all.

But how can I speak about echoes and responses when I know that there are scores of men and women whom a preacher’s words reach who would be ashamed of themselves, and rightly, if they exhibited the same callousness of heart and selfishness of ingratitude to some human, partial benefactor as they are not ashamed to have exhibited all their lives to Jesus Christ.  Echo?  Yes! your heartstrings are set vibrating fast enough whenever, in the adjoining apartment, an instrument is touched which is tuned to the same key as your heart.  Pleasures, earthly aims, worldly gifts, the sweetnesses of human life, all these things set them thrilling, and you can hear the music, but your hearts are not tuned to answer to the note that is struck in ‘He loved me and gave Himself for me.’  The bugle is blown, and there is silence, and no echo, faint and far, comes whispering back.  Brethren, we use no one else, in whose love we have any belief, a thousandth part so ill as we use Jesus Christ.