very process
of suffering in which that battle was waged, and from which that victory
was wrung. Now, when we sorrow, we know who also sorrowed; we remember
whose agony the still heavens looked upon with all their starry
eyes,--whose tears moistened the bosom of the bare earth,--whose cry of
anguish pierced the gloom of night. Now, too, when we sorrow, we know
where to find relief; we learn the spirit of resignation, and under what
conditions it may be born. Thank God, then, for the lesson of the lonely
garden and the weeping Christ-we, too, may be "made perfect through
suffering."

Such, then, were the circumstances that illustrate the words of the
text. Scarcely had Jesus risen from his knees, and wakened the drowsy
disciples, when the light of lanterns flashed upon him, and Judas came
with a multitude to bear him to that death from which, but now, he
shrunk with agony. But he shrank no more. The trial was over,--the
darkness had vanished,--an angel had strengthened him; and when the
impetuous Peter drew his sword and smote off the servant's ear, his
master turned to him, with the calm rebuke, "Put up thy sword into his
sheath; the cup which my Father hath given me, shall I not drink it?"
Yes, cold and bitter as that cup was, pressed next to his very lips, he
had learned to drink it. God had given him strength, and no more did
he falter, no more did he groan-save once, for a moment, when, upon the
cross, drooping, and racked with intense pain, he cried out, "My God, my
God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But that passed away in the triumphant
ejaculation, "It is finished!"

Such was the resignation of Jesus; a trait in his character which, like
all the rest, is not only to be admired, but imitated;--not an abstract
virtue, manifested by a being so perfect and so enshrined in the
sanctity of a divine nature that we cannot approach it, and in our
mortal, work-day trials can never feel it; but a virtue which should
be throned in every heart, the strength and consolation of which every
suffering soul may experience. Nay, if there is one virtue which is more
often needed than any other, which lies at the base of true happiness,
and than which there is no surer seal of piety, it is this virtue of
resignation. And let me proceed to say, that by resignation I mean not
cold and sullen apathy, or reckless hardihood, but a sweet trust and
humble acquiescence, which show that the soul has submitted itself to
the Father who knows