the sight of my sins; these were the cruel press which forced so much blood from Thy sacred veins. Hence, it was not the executioners, nor the nails, nor the thorns, that were cruel and barbarous in Thy reregard: no, my sins, which made Thee so sorrowful in the garden, have been barbarous and cruel to Thee, my sweet Redeemer. Then, in Thy great affliction, I too have added to Thy sorrows, and have grievously afflicted Thee by the weight of my sins. Had I been guilty of fewer sins, Thou wouldst have suffered less. Behold, then, the return I have made for Thy love in dying for me. I have added to Thy great sufferings! My beloved Lord, I repent of having offended Thee, I am sorry for my sins, but my sorrow is not sufficiently great; I would wish for sorrow that would take away my life. Ah, through the bitter Agony which Thou didst suffer in the Garden, give me a portion of that abhorrence which Thou didst then feel for my sins. And if my ingratitude was then a cause of affliction to Thee, grant that I may now please Thee by my love. Yes, my Jesus. I love Thee with my whole heart. I love Thee more than myself, and for Thy love I renounce all the pleasures and goods of this earth. Thou alone art, and shalt always be, my only good and my only love.
To Jesus being scouraged.
"Ah! let us love this divine Bridegroom of our souls," says the loving St. Augustine, "'and the more He is disfigured by suffering, the more sweet and precious let Him seem to us."
es. my sweet Saviour. I see Thee all covered
with wounds; I look into Thy beautiful
face; but, O my God, it no longer wears its
beautiful appearance, but is disfigured and blackened
with blood, and bruises, and shameful spittings:
"There is no beauty in Him, nor comeliness; and
