any human
heart can fathom in the low-lying garden of Gethsemane. _Behold and see
if there be any sorrow like to My Sorrow._

III. For, again, the Church, like her Lord, is both Divine and Human.

She is Divine and therefore she rejoices--so filled with the New Wine of
the Kingdom of her Father that men stare at her in contempt.

It is true enough that the world is unhappy; that hearts are broken;
that families, countries, and centuries are laid waste by sin. Yet since
the Church is Divine, she knows, not merely guesses or hopes or desires,
but _knows_, that _although all things come to an end, God's commandment
is exceeding broad_. Years ago, she knows--and therefore not all the
criticism in the world can shake her--that her Lord came down from
heaven, was born, died, rose, and ascended, and that He reigns in
unconquerable power. She knows that He will return again and take the
kingdom and reign; she knows, because she is Divine, that in every
tabernacle of hers on earth the Lord of joy lies hidden; that Mary
intercedes; that the saints are with God; that _the Blood of Jesus
Christ cleanseth from all sin_. Look round her earthly buildings, then,
and there are the symbols and images of these things. There is the merry
light before her altar; there are the saints stiff with gold and gems;
there is Mary, "Cause of our Joy," radiant, with her radiant Child in
her arms. If she were but human, she would dare but to shadow these
things forth--shadows of her own desires; she would whisper her creed;
murmur her prayers; darken her windows. But she is Divine and has
herself come down from heaven; so she does not guess, or think, or
hope--she knows.

But she is human too and dwells in the midst of a human race that does
not know and therefore will not wholly take her at her word, and the
very height of her exaltation must also be, then, the measure of her
despair. The fact that she knows so certainly intensifies a thousandfold
her human sorrow, as she, who has _come that they may have life_, sees
how _they will not come_ to her and find it, as she sees how long the
triumph which is certain is yet delayed through their faithlessness. "If
_thou hadst known_," she cries in the heart-broken words of Jesus
Himself over Jerusalem, "_if thou hadst but known the things that belong
to thy peace! Behold and see, then, if there be any sorrow like to
mine_, if there be any grief so profound and so piercing as mine, who
hold the Keys of H