cowardice, of
heartlessness. He who in his own eyes was so much better than the rest
had fallen lower than all. In the look of Christ Peter sees the
reproachful loving tenderness of a wounded spirit, and understands the
dimensions of his sin. That he, the most intimate disciple, should have
added to the bitterness of that hour, should not only have failed to
help his Lord, but should actually at the crisis of His fate have added
the bitterest drop to His cup, was humbling indeed. There was that in
Christ's look that made him feel the enormity of his guilt; there was
that also that softened him and saved him from sullen despair.

And it is obvious that if we are to rise clear above the sin that has
betrayed us we can do so only by as lowly a penitence. We are all alike
in this: that we have fallen; we cannot any more with justice think
highly of ourselves; we have sinned and are disgraced in our own eyes.
In this, I say, we are all alike; that which makes the difference among
us is, how we deal with ourselves and our circumstances in connection
with our sin. It has been very well said by a keen observer of human
nature that "men and women are often more fairly judged by the way in
which they bear the burden of their own deeds, the fashion in which they
carry themselves in their entanglements, than by the prime act which
laid the burden on their lives and made the entanglement fast knotted.
The deeper part of us shows in the manner of accepting consequences."
The reason of this is that, like Peter, we are often _betrayed_ by a
weakness; the part of our nature which is least able to face difficulty
is assaulted by a combination of circumstances which may never again
occur in our life. There was guilt, great guilt it may be, concerned in
our fall, but it was not deliberate, wilful wickedness. But in our
dealing with our sin and its consequences our whole nature is concerned
and searched; the real bent and strength of our will is tried. We are
therefore in a crisis, _the_ crisis, of our life. Can we accept the
situation? Can we humbly, frankly own that, since that evil has appeared
in our life, it must have been, however unconsciously, in ourselves
first? Can we with the genuine manliness and wisdom of a broken heart
say to ourselves and to God, Yes, it is true I am the wretched, pitiful,
bad-hearted creature that was capable of doing, and did that thing? I
did not think that was my character; I did not think it was in me to