y love was wonderful to me, passing the love of women."

And it is love that seeks you and me to-day. It is a love that longs
to gain our friendship. It is a love that had been told to us, but at
last was shown to us in the death of the cross. And we know it is
true. David responded to the love that was shown him. He did not
disappoint his friend. May the Lord save you and me from disappointing
our Friend. "For He is a Friend that sticketh closer than a brother."

VI

THE WOMAN OF THE SHATTERED ROMANCES--THE WOMAN OF SYCHAR

_John 4:4-26_

Look, will you, at this picture. There sits a man in the strength and
buoyancy of young manhood. He is only thirty or thereabouts. About
him is the atmosphere of vigor and vitality that belong to the
spring-time of life. But to-day he is a bit tired. There is a droop
in his shoulders. His feet and sandals are dusty. His garment is
travel stained. He has been journeying all the morning on foot. And
now at the noon hour he is resting.

The place of his resting is an old well curb. The well is one that was
digged by hands that have been dust long centuries. This traveller is
very thirsty. But he has no means of drawing the water, so he sits
upon the well curb and waits. His friends who are journeying with him
have gone into the city to buy food. Soon they will return and then
they will eat and drink together.

As he looks along the road that leads into the city he sees somebody
coming. That somebody is not one of his disciples. It is a woman. As
she comes closer he sees that she is clad in the cheap and soiled
finery of her class. At once he knows her for what she is. He reads
the dark story of her sinful life. He understands the whole fetid and
filthy past through which she has journeyed as through the stenchful
mud of a swamp.

As she approaches the well she glares at the Stranger seated upon the
curb with bold and unsympathetic gaze. She knows his nationality at
once. And all her racial resentment is alive and active.

A bit to her surprise the Stranger greets her with a request for a
favor. "Give me a drink," he says. Christ was thirsty. He wanted a
draught from Jacob's well. But far more He wanted a draught from this
woman's heart. She was a slattern, an outcast. She was lower, in the
estimation of the average Jew, than a street dog. Yet this weary
Christ desired the gift of her burnt out and impoverished affections.
So He says, "