had he begun an enterprise the most beneficent to man and the most glorious to God, unless it were prosecuted in his spirit. This spirit he labored to infuse into them. He strove to make them comprehend how much was depending on their feeling their connection to himself, and devoting themselves exclusively to his cause. He urged them to adhere to him in all affection and confidence, because they could otherwise have no strength and success, any more than a branch could live and bear fruit without connection with the vine. He urged them to adhere to one another in brotherly love, and thus to recommend their cause and their Master to the world. He pleaded with them the memory and example of his own love for them, and warned them against the ruinous consequences of remissness and unfaithfulness. At the same time, he did not disguise the perils to which this course would expose them; he told them that they had much opposition to encounter, and severe sufferings to endure. But they should not be unsupported. The spirit of God would be with them to guide, sustain, and bless them, and no request which they should make of the Father in his name would be denied them.

Much of this consoling and admonitory language appears to have been lost on the disciples at the time. There was still a mist before their

eyes. They did not clearly see what he meant by "going to the Father." They whispered among themselves, inquiring what he could mean; and Jesus explained himself to them more perfectly. Still there remained much, the full import of which could enter their minds only when, some time afterward, the resurrection of their Lord and the gifts of the Spirit had opened their eyes to the true purposes of his mission, and the real character of their enterprise. Then the solemn, exciting, and soothing discourses of this painful evening must have come to their recollection with a sustaining and invigorating influence; and, mingled with the image of their gracious friend and the tones of his benignant voice, must have filled their hearts with the confidence and peace of which he spoke in the concluding words: "These words I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye will have tribulation; but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."

Having finished what he had to say to his disciples, Jesus lifted up his eyes, and prayed. He prayed for himself, for his apostles, for all his disciples, for his followers and his truth in all ages. He poured out his earnest and affectionate desires in a strain of supplication unspeakably pathetic and sublime. His beloved disciple has put his

John xvii.

prayer on record. In reading it we gain admittance into the soul of his Master; we feel how powerful and elevating is his truth. We are overcome with admiration, that one about to perish by a violent and ignominious death should exhibit this consciousness of an intimate union with the supreme Father, should display this calm assurance that the grandest purposes of the Divine government were connected with his own fate,should thus lift himself above the present time and present scenes, and speak of the invisible and eternal as if familiar with their glories. We know that no one before him had thus spoken; and, as we listen to his words, we exclaim, “Truly this was the Son of God."

CHAPTER XIX.

JESUS RETIRES TO GETHSEMANE.

IS APPREHENDED.

- IS CONDEMNED BY THE SANHEDRIM. DENIES HIM.

IT is not perfectly clear whether the whole of the scene just related took place in the room in which the Passover supper was eaten; or whether a large portion of the last discourse of Jesus were not held in the open air as he was proceeding with his disciples toward the Mount of Olives. The latter is thought by many to be the more probable; and they conceive that the image which he used of the vine and its branches was suggested by the vineyards through which they passed on their way.

However this may have been, they left the city, as had been their custom every night, and retired over the brook Kedron to the Mount of Olives. This brook runs through the bottom of the valley which lies between Olivet and Jerusalem. After crossing it, they proceeded for about half a mile, when they came to a garden called

Matthew xxvi. 36. Mark xiv. 32. Luke xxii. 39. John xviii. 1.

Gethsemane, lying just at the foot of the mountain. It seems to have been a favorite resort of Jesus, being probably attached to the house of some one of his followers, and well situated for retirement. Here they had hitherto been safe from pursuit; but Judas, who had always been with them, knew the place, and he had now left them for the purpose of conducting to it the officers of the Sanhedrim.

The Passover was always celebrated at the full of the moon. And nothing can well be more lovely than the moonlight night of that season of the year in that beautiful part of the world. But the hearts of this little company were too heavy to allow them to feel the beauty of external nature. On the minds of the disciples the events of the evening had left a vague but strong impression of grief and apprehension. To their Master's mind all was clear. He saw the whole reality. He knew exactly the horrors that were approaching. He felt them more and more as the hour drew nigh. Leaving the other disciples, he took Peter, James, and John to a more retired part of the garden. My soul is exceeding sorrowful," said he, "even unto death; tarry ye here and watch with me." He went a little distance, and threw himself on his face, upon the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. "Abba! Father!'

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