moment, in thought, into the hall of Pilate, and look at that innocent Lamb given up to the ferocity and inhuman fury of those merciless enemies, to be tormented by them. O God, what a cruel carnage is made of the virginal flesh of the Son of God! A shower of most furious blows rains down upon every spot of his immaculate body from heavy lashes; with such ferocity do they strike, that they rend his flesh, and open wounds in every part, and tear and strike into the very wounds again and again. What spectacle has heaven seen more pitiful than this? From the sole of his foot to the crown of his head, he is all torn and wounded. The blood gushes out on every side, and already the pavement is covered with it. Look, my soul, at thy Jesus, torn, bleeding, and all but expiring through the horrible torture inflicted. See if there be any suffering like to his. Look, and read in these wounds the love that Jesus bears to thee, and conclude from this how much thou hast cost him. Oh, my most loving Redeemer, my most patient Jesus, hast thou purchased my soul at such a price? Graciously deign, dear Saviour, to impress upon my heart lively sentiments of love and compassion for thy sufferings, so that I may never forget what thou hast endured for me, and never cease to bewail my sins, which have caused thee so much grief.
Consider, my soul, the feelings of the loving heart of Jesus in the midst of his scourging. He stands bound to a pillar, under countless stripes, like an innocent victim upon an altar, offering his bitter torments for thee, He turns his pitiful looks now to the earth, now to heaven, to beg with their entreating expression mercy from his eternal Father for the grievous sins I have committed. Behold, my soul, how Jesus suffers, and what an example he gives thee of suffering profitably! See how much thou art bound
