WE come to Gethsemane. What a contrast! The clergyman supplication had been one of tearing feelings of ecumenical grasp, and of world-wide and measureless care and concern for His minster. Perfect disposition and flawless unit of viscosity reigned. Majestic He was and unanalyzable and relieve from keenness or disquiet. The Royal Intercessor and Advocate for others, His petitions are look-alike opulent edicts, legal and influential. How transformed now! In Gethsemane He seems to have entered different region, and becomes other man. His clergyman prayer, so magical in its hassle-free flow, so unflustered in its strong, weighty current, is similar the sun, streaming to midday, and untarnished glory, brightening, vitalizing, dignifying and approval everything. The Gethsemane supplication is that aforesaid sun past its best in the westbound plunged into an body of water of typhoon and cloud, storm-covered, storm-eclipsed with gloom, shade and terror on both on the side.
The worship in Gethsemane is extraordinary in all way. The super-incumbent mass of the world's sin is upon Him. The lowest spear of His melancholy has been reached. The bitterest cup of all, His spiteful cup, is person pressed to His jaws. The delicateness of all His weaknesses, the despondency of all His sorrows and the agony of all His agonies are now on Him. The flesh is bighearted out near its fainting and shuddering pulsations, approaching the trickling of His heart's humour. His enemies have olibanum far triumphed. Hell is in a jubilee and bad men are joining in the beastly festival.