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or more uneven road trod by two poor mangled human feet! Poor Mary follows in the crowd, and, as she sees the bloody footprints His feet have made, her maternal heart can contain itself no longer. In a frenzy of despair and with a superhuman effort, she rushes frantic through the crowd. Men fall back in alarm before her fierce earnestness, and on she goes through the parted ranks until she stands face to face with her Son. " Mother," He sobs, " Mother," and at the word all her unnatural courage dies out, all the love and tenderness of her nature come back to her, and in a moment she is a helpless woman, a heartbroken mother again. Speechless with emotion, their eyes meet in one long, last look, and then the rough guard brushes her aside, and the gloomy procession moves on. Oh, how the great heart of that fondest of sons must have ached with sympathy for His poor Mother! What bitter tears He must have shed on that dreary march as He compared the happiness of their life long ago, in the little home of Nazareth, with the misery of their present condition! Aye, I feel as sure as if Christ Himself revealed it to me, that one of the bitterest of all the bitter pains He had to endure, was the thought of His poor Mother's grief and desolation; for His generous heart felt first for His Mother, then for mankind, and last of all for Himself. That is why, when He fell three times under the cross, He suffered more from the thought that His Mother was listening to His groans and the blows He received, than He did from the blows themselves. That is why, also, He honored His Mother