in the garden of Gethsemani, the night before his death. Here having left the rest of his disciples at some distance, and taken with him Peter, James and John, who before had been witnesses of his glorious transfiguration on mount Thabor, he begins to disclose to them that mortal anguish, fear and sadness, which oppressed his heart. My soul, saith he, is sad even unto death. Matt. xxvi. that is, with a sadness, which even now would strike me dead, if I did not preserve myself, in order to suffer still more for you. Sweet Jesus, what can be the meaning of this? Didst thou not lately cry out, speaking of thy passion, and the desire thou hadst of suffering for us: I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished? Luke, xii. Whence then this present sadness? Was it not thou, who hast given that strength and courage to thy martyrs, not even to shrink under the worst of torments? And wert thou thyself afraid? But, O dear Lord, I plainly understand that it was by thy own choice, that thou didst condescend so far as to let thyself be seized by this mortal anguish. It was for my instruction; and that thou mightest suffer so much the more for me. I adore thee under this weakness, (if I may be allowed to call it so) no less than on thy throne of glory: because it is here, that I better discover thy infinite love for me.
2. Consider how our dear Saviour under this sadness and anguish betakes himself to prayer, the only sure refuge under all afflictions, the only shield in the day of battle. But take notice, my soul, with what reverence he prays to his eternal Father, prostrate on the very ground: with what fervour, with a loud cry and tears, says the apostle: Heb. v. 7. and learn to
