walls burst
asunder by the strain of soul. It is not possible for a sinning soul to
appreciate with what nightmare dread and horror the sinless soul of Jesus
must have approached the coming contact with the sin of a world. With
bated breath and reverent gaze one follows that lonely figure among the
trees; now kneeling, now falling upon His face, lying prostrate, "He
prayed that _if_ it were possible the hour might pass away from Him." One
snatch of that prayer reaches our ears: "Abba, Father, all things are
possible unto Thee--_if_ it be possible let this cup pass away from Me;
nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt." How long He remained so in
prayer we do not know, but so great was the tension of spirit that a
messenger from heaven appeared and strengthened Him. Even after that
"being in an agony He prayed more earnestly (literally, more stretched
out, more strainedly) and His sweat became as it were great clots of blood
falling down upon the ground." When at length He arises from that season
of conflict and prayer, the victory seems to be won, and something of the
old-time calm reasserts itself. He goes to the sleeping disciples, and
mindful of their coming temptation, admonishes them to pray; then returns
to the lonely solitude again for more prayer, but the change in the form
of prayer tells of the triumph of soul, "O My Father, if this cup
_cannot_ pass away except I drink it, Thy will be done." The victory is
complete. The crisis is past. He yields Himself to that dreaded experience
through which alone the Father's loving plan for a dying world can be
accomplished. Again He returns to the poor, weak disciples, and back again
for another bit of strengthening communion, and then the flickering glare
of torches in the distance tells Him that "the hour is come." With steady
step and a marvellous peace lighting His face He goes out to meet His
enemies. He overcame in this greatest crisis of His life _by prayer_.

_The fifteenth mention_ is the final one. Of the seven sentences which He
spake upon the cross, three were prayers. Luke tells us that while the
soldiers were driving the nails through His hands and feet and lifting the
cross into place, He, thinking even then not of self, but of others, said,
"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do."

It was as the time of the daily evening sacrifice drew on, near the close
of that strange darkness which overcast all nature, after a silence of
three hours, t