her heart, was more alive than any other to their true meaning. She knew that Jesus meant what He said, and she took His words in their literal import. The sorrow was accomplished to the letter. Surely she did not doubt that the fulfilment of the joy would be equally complete. The third day He shall rise again.'

True, she may not have grasped the glorious power of the resurrection into which He would enter, and yet the farewell upon the Cross implied that in His new life He would no longer be able to fulfil towards her those duties which belonged to natural sonship. She cannot have supposed that death would absorb Him. She must therefore have seen that when the disciple was charged to take His place, it was intimated that Jesus Himself, wherever he might be, would be elevated above the personal ministrations of filial affection. She did not doubt His love because she believed His word, but she probably recognised the high appeal to the Messianic humanity which is contained in the Psalter, Forget also thine own people and thy father's house.' (Ps. xlv. 10)

It is evident from the Gospel narrative, and its silence, that her demeanour during the time of sorrow was altogether different from that which meets us constantly in sacred art. She left the Body of her Son to the care of others, and waited patiently in the house of St. John. She left it, not in negligence but in faith. Her lips were sealed by the very greatness of her expectations. She pondered but she could not explain. Others might

embalm. She knew that the Holy One could not see corruption. She might well leave human friendship to provide for human necessity. She was rather looking for God to fulfil His own word towards His Beloved One, not knowing what God would do, but sure that all would be well. The time was fixed. The issue of the Divine operation would transcend her highest powers of thought. The outward overthrow would surely be the precursor of a Divine victory. As at Cana she had felt confident that He would work a miracle although she seemed to be rebuffed by his words, so now she looked forward to a deliverance, although death seemed to be for a time triumphant.

O Jesu, never let me doubt the truth of Thy words, although outwardly they may seem to have failed. Thou art the Lord of life, and Thy words live beyond the grave, and show their power by the very difficulties which try our faith.

My son, thou must be content to see all my promises die away if thou wouldst know them according to the power of My resurrection.

Yea, Lord, even so. O let me experience the triumph of Thy grace, perfecting my faith that so l may be worthy to behold the triumph of Thy glory accomplishing my deliverance.

He that believeth shall not make haste.' Wait therefore patiently upon me in every time of trouble, and in due time thou shalt experience the all-sufficiency of My protection. Limit not the power of My words by the suc

cesses which thine own heart can imagine to be natural as the development of My purposes. Come with Me through the valley of the shadow of death, that so thou mayest behold the glory of the endless life. By death I triumphed over death. By death thou must escape from death. So shalt thou attain to know the power of the frue, the endless life, which here thou canst not know. Believe in Me, and thou shalt live with Me.

O Lord, whatever happens in the world, I will rest confidently in Thee. Earthly things fail; Thy word is sure for ever. O give me such true and lively faith that I may be safe in the joyousness of Thy Divine security while I wait for the manifestation of Thy love in its own unsullied eternity of everliving power.

2. HOPE.

The Blessed Virgin could not think of her Son otherwise than with a lively hope. She did not merely believe in Him as a supernatural Being. She knew that the filial love wherein she rejoiced was intensified, not destroyed, by the higher nature of His mysterious life. The separation which His public ministry had involved, however great it may have been, had not resulted from any loss of the sweet and holy sympathies of that perfect Childhood over which she had watched. The farewell which He had taken of her as He hung upon the Cross could not imply that that love had failed. Still she looked for the Divine love to act through that loving Heart.

He had passed on-He had gone away from her— He had not ceased to love. Earthly life He might surrender, but love is the life of God from which He could not sunder Himself.

Thus would her consciousness of His changeless love be to her a foundation of hope. In whatever degree she was enabled to realise the union of her Child with God, in that same degree she knew that every development of His Being was a development of love; no vague inactive love, but personal and tender as the Child-love had been; yes, and henceforth shining with the Majesty of God.

Whatever trouble there might be, she knew that our Lord had come into this wilderness with the purpose of undergoing it, and that all was leading on to some glorious consummation. The good purpose of God could not fail.

How continually do we murmur at God's arrangements, as if God did not give us all things for our truest good. If we will be loyal in our acceptance of God, we may be sure that He cannot fail to give us all that will be for our good. We do not wish to have the fulness of satisfaction now, for it were sin against hope to wish to have our heavenly joy antedated. Rather we rejoice in the sufferings of the present time, for we know that they are not without good result. We must not regard them as a phase of trouble to be borne with resignation, in the confidence of an escape to be effected by and by. That would be an act of faith, but not of hope. We need to recognise the goodness of all the troubles which we have to bear, because they are working out for us

results of blessing which could not be attained in any other way. The reward shall be proportionate to the suffering, if the suffering be faithfully borne. The reward shall be proportionate, but it shall be infinitely greater.

Hope therefore finds a calm joy even in the midst of the greatest sufferings, and even proportionately to their greatness. If the Blessed Virgin withdrew from the sight of the Cross where the present suffering must have been the occasion of harrowing anguish to her tender heart, she surely looked forward to the joy that was set before Him, in the strength of contemplation akin to that wherewith He Himself was bearing the shame. She knew that He was thus to attain to the throne of His father David, with all the glory of the Son of the Highest (Luke i. 32). Those who were round about her felt their hopes overthrown, for their hopes were hopes of an earthly victory to be achieved upon this side the grave; but if Abraham offered up Isaac, knowing that he should receive him back from death, though not knowing how, much more may we be assured did blessed Mary look forward to receive Jesus back again from death, not as Isaac in a figure, but in reality and truth, and not only to a transitory life of sorrow, but to a true, an abiding life of glory. Her calm soul may even have uttered anew the song of hope which she had spoken of old in the hearing of Elizabeth. Now He was indeed putting down the mighty from their seat, and though the arm of the Lord was not revealed to the heart of Israel, yet she knew that the God of Israel was showing strength