it does
not stand absolutely isolated in His history. We know of at least two
experiences somewhat resembling it, and these may in some degree help
us to its explanation. The first overtook Him on the occasion of the
visit of certain Greeks at the beginning of the last week of His life.
They had desired to see Him; but, when they were introduced by Andrew
and Philip, Jesus, instead of being exhilarated, as might have been
expected, was overcome with a spasm of pain, and groaned, "Now is My
soul troubled, and what shall I say? Father, save Me from this hour."
The sight of these visitors from the outside world made Him feel how
grand and how congenial to Himself would have been a worldwide mission
to the heathen, such as He might have undertaken had His life been
prolonged; but this was impossible, because in the flower of His age He
was to die. The other occasion was the Agony of Gethsemane. A careful
and reverent study will reveal that this incident was the effort by
which the will of Christ rose into unity with the will of His Father.
It belongs to the very essence of human nature that it must grow from
stage to stage; and the perfection of our Lord, just because it was
human, had to realise itself on every step of a ladder of development.
He was always both perfect on the stage which He had reached, and at
the same time rising to a higher stage of perfection. Sometimes the
step might be more easy, at other times more difficult; the step which
He had to take in Gethsemane was supremely difficult; hence the effort
and the pain which it cost. It seemed, however, in Gethsemane as if He
had finally conquered, and it might have been expected that the mood of
weakness and darkness could not come back. Yet it was to be permitted
to return once more; and on the cross the attack was far more violent
and prolonged than on either of the preceding occasions. Keeping in
mind the light which these two previous accesses of the same mood may
cast on this one, let us draw near reverently and see how far we may be
able to penetrate into the mystery.

There can be little doubt that there was a physical element in it. He
had now been a considerable time on the cross; and every minute the
agony was increasing. The wounds in His hands and feet, exposed to the
atmosphere and the sun, grew barked and hardened; the blood, impeded in
its circulation, swelled in heart and brain, till these organs were
like to burst; and the slightest