O Christ, the Sonne of the most myghtye God, the Sauiour of most miserable men; [Page 2] whose blessed bodie was buffeted with siftes, torne with whips, stretched vpō the crosse, pierced with nailes & speare▪ and bathed in the sweete streames of thine owne bloud, for the redēption of all mankind: to thee, O author, O restorer, O preseruer of life, to thy maiestie, to thy mercie, my sinnefull soule, full of fresh bleeding woundes. [Page 3] ful of ould corrupted soares, sicke to the death with a surfet of sinne, would faine present it selfe, and sende a few fainte groanes vnto thy heauenly eares.

but alas, the great­nesse of my disease hath almost taken a­way the sence there­of; and so horrible is my corruptiō, that I feare it wil too much offend thy pure pre­sence? and altogether [Page 4] auert, thy coūtenāce from beholding me, thine eare from hea­ring me, and thy cō ­passion from relie­uing me.

O sinne, the verie bane and death of my soule, was it not enough for you to infect a heedeles cre­ature with your poi­son, but you must make it so ougly and loathsome, that the eie of mercie should not endure to bee­hould [Page 5] it? was it not enough for you to crush it in pieces with your weight, but you must also go about to stop, both the eare of pittie with horror, & the mouth of prayer with shame? was it not i­nough for you to drawe me to distruc­tion, but you must also take from mee, both the sence of griefe, and the sight of danger; and con­sequently, [Page 6] the cure of the one, and care of the other?

I was wounded & I felte it not: I was wounded to death, & I perceiued it not: I was bound, I was beaten, and I regar­ded it not: yea, my woundes were a de­lightfull tickling vn­to mee, I tooke plea­sure in most base bō ­dage, and (like Salo­mons foole) I laughed when I was lashed. [Page 7] For I was beside my selfe, whē I was with­out thee, neither dis­cerning and desiring that which was good nor yet seeing and shunning that which was euill. I beecame not only foolish, but altogether sencelesse; for thou art trueth, & I was without thee, thou art life, & I was without thee.

Alas how am I de­formed? how am I defiled? O deere [Page 8] Christ, my fainting soule groaneth and gaspeth for thy grace, but it is abashed at thy glory: I would faine intreat thy mer­cy to heale mee, but I am loth to offend thy maiestie in beehol­ding mee: I am asha­med to lay open my iniquities, and yet (woe is me) I cannot appeare beefore thee without them.

Ah these my sinnes, how do they distres? [Page 9] how do they distract me? they desire to be seene, that they may bee healed; but they shunne to be shewn, least they should bee detested: they are not healed without con­fession, and they are not heard without confusion: If they be couered they cannot be cured, and if they be opened they must needes be abhorred. In the meane time, their sharpenes pier­ceth [Page 10] me, their waight presseth me, they tor­ment me with griefe, they terrifie me with feare, they confound me with shame.

What shall I say, or what shall I doe, wretche that I am, whether did I bende my selfe, and to what pas am I now come? O Christ, I did not set thee beefore my eyes, and now I dare not appeare in thy sight: I reioy­ced [Page 11] but not in thee, & now I am troubled, but thou art not with me. Alasse, better it were to bee nothing, then to bee without thee, without whom al things are nothing; better it were to bee dead, then to be without thee, O our life.

Wo to me wretch, what shall I do in that terrible day, when at the sound of the trū ­pet all graues shall o­pen, & yeeld vp their [Page 12] prisoners, which they haue kept fast fette­red in the chaines of death, from all ages since the worlde was made. When the bookes of euery mās naked conscience shall be laide foorth: when all my actions, words and thoughts, euen those which I most esteemed, either concealed, or els for­gotten, shall bee set in so open and plaine a veiw, that all the [Page 13] worlde shall point at mee, and say, Behold the man and what hee hath done. When I shall bee compelled to aunswer to manie thinges, whereof I would haue scorned to haue bene either questioned or tould, during the time of my life. when the heauens shall threatē me, the earth rise vp against me, and al the creatures which I haue abused crie vē ­geance [Page 14] vpon mee: when the Diuelles shall accuse mee, my own conscience giue euidence against me, and the whole Iurie of Saintes passe their verdict vpon me.

At that day to go forward it will be in­tolerable; to go back, impossible; to turne a side, vnauaileable: and so great will bee the astonishment, be­twene sorrow, shame and feare, that the [Page 15] guiltie sinner shall be desirous to hide him selfe, (if it were possi­ble) euen in hell.

What way shall I thē take in these des­perate extremities? whether shall I turne my selfe? what shift, what friendes shall I be able to make? all thinges giuing cause of terrour, and no­thinge of comforte. Alasse, what shall I do, but euen faint for feare, and stande as a [Page 16] most desperate and forlorne wretch, trē ­blinge and quakinge beefore the presence of the most seuere iudge, who neither can bee blinded, nor will bee corrupted; altogether confoun­ded, at the intollera­ble vehemencie and waight of his wrath, at the inexcusable number and enormi­ty of my sinnes, at the easelesse and endlesse punishment which I [Page 17] shall see I haue deser­ued.

Who, where, what thinge shall then bee my comfort? when I shall behold, aboue, an angrie Iudge con­demning mee; bee­neath, hell open, and the boyling furnace ready to deuour me; on one side, the di­uels with bitter scof­fes and vpbraydings haling me; on the o­ther side, the saintes and my very neerest [Page 18] friendes, not onely forsaking me, but re­ioycing and praysing God for his iustice in my damnatiō: with­in, my conscience tearing me; without, the powers of heauē shakē and dissolued, the elementes shiue­red in peeces; the whole worlde fla­ming, & all damned soules crying & cur­sing rounde about mee.

O indignation of [Page 19] of the almightie, fall not vpon mee; for I haue neither power to resist thee, nor pa­tiēce to endure thee, nor place to auoyde thee. And doubtlesse, it is impossible, ether to expresse, or to i­magine, what an in­estimable treasure a good conscience will be at that day: and if a sinner could now conceiue the infinite sea of terrours and tormentes, whiche [Page 20] then he shal perceiue to rush vpon him, he would not endure them one moment, for all the false plea­sures that his swee­test sinnes can afford.

Alasse wretch, what shall I doe? if I speake, my sinnes stand vp against me: & if I hold my peace, I find no mā to com­fort mee. Mourne O my soul, drowne thy selfe in bitter mour­ning; howle out and [Page 21] lament beecause of these heauy horrours which thine offences prepare daily to heap vpon thee: thou be­ing as vnable to repel the one, as either to represse, or repente the other.

And yet now thou doest see these euils, see also if thou canst shunne them; let no paynes bee too great, no petitions either to often, or too earnest [Page 22] to make prouision a­gaynste that daye: trample vnder foote the vanities of this life; shake them off, as Paul did the viper into the fire, lest they cause thee to shake. Runne, O runne vn­to thy onely refuge Iesus Christ thy re­deemer, become (as it doth become thee) an humble suppliant, in the lowest degree both of sorrow and shame: prostrate thy [Page 23] selfe beefore his pre­sence, poure out thy teares at his feete, make an abiect coun­tenance and gesture, vnfained messengers of thy distressed mind; let thy words bee seasoned with sighes, and bathed in tears, & so addresse thy suite vnto him. Although it bee late, it is not yet too late to call for his mercie: & wherefore shouldest thou be consumed in [Page 24] saying nothing? As it is impossible hee should forgette the passions which hee endured, so it is not credible that hee should not haue cō ­passion on thee for whome he suffered.

O Christ, O sonne of the euerlyuinge God, in goodnes infi­nite, infinite also in greatnes, in power almighty, in wisdome wonderfull, in iudg­ment iust, in promise [Page 25] true, in workes holy, in mercie rich, pati­ent toward sinners, & sparing when they do repent: call to thy remēbrance, O sweet Iesus, for whose sake thou wert content to endure all the mise­ries of mortallitie: hū ­ger, colde, griefe, po­uerty, contēpt, scorn, blasphemies, bandes, blowes, the crosse, woundes, death, and the graue.

And now, O Lord, [Page 26] where is this loue? where are these mer­cies? is thy goodnesse come to an end? and will thine anger ne­uer againe be appea­sed? If I be full of im­pietie, art thou ther­fore not full of pittie? & if I cōfesse the one, wilt thou therefore denie the other? if my sins are greater thē it is meet, ar thi mercies lesser then they were wont? if thy glorious greatnesse did make [Page 27] me draw backe, wilt thou therefore draw backe thy gracious goodnesse?

O Lord my God, althogh I am a sinner, yet am I thi creature: although I am a sin­ner, yet am I redee­med with the blessed price of thy blood. O Lord my life, It was no goodnesse in me that compelled thee to make me, but euen thy loue; it was no merite in me that [Page 28] did winne thee to re­deeme me, but euen thy mercie: why then sweet Christ and most louing Iesu, let that loue whiche compelled thee to make me, compell thee also to help me; let that mercy which did win thee to die for me, win thee also to saue my life: for thou art alwaies one, neither is thy loue chāged, nor thy mer­cy diminished.

[Page 29] Heare me O Lorde, heale mee O Lorde, heale my sicke soule which panteth at thy feete, and is euen at the poynt to perish: reiect not him whoe deiecteth him selfe, let not the abasing of my selfe make mee seme base vnto thee: enter not into iudg­ment with thy ser­uant, but accordinge to thy mercies, to the multitude of thy mercies put awaye [Page 30] mine iniquities.

Thinke not on thy hate against a sin­ner, but think on thy loue towardes thy creature: remember not thy iustice where by thou punishest, but remember thy mercy wherby thou sauest: forget mee as I was disobediēt, pro­uoking thee to wrath, & regard me as I am distressed, crying to thee for helpe. Com­forte mee that am [Page 31] weake, heale me that am wounded, raise me that am dead: heale the infirmitie which grieueth mee, & thou shalt remoue the deformity which offendeth thee: take awaie the wretched­nesse whereof I lan­guish, and thou shalt take away the lothsō ­nes which thou ab­horrest: free me from my danger, and thou shalte free thy selfe from thy displeasure.

[Page 32] O sweete Lord & most mercifull Iesus Christ, wee knowe wherefore thou ca­mest into the world, euen to seeke and to saue that which was lost: and do not thou O Lord forget that which we, vile wret­ches, not only know, but shal acknowledg, eyther wyth trem­bling, or els with ioy. Thou camest to saue that which was lost, and wilt thou see me [Page 33] perish, in the view of thy pittifull eies, in the presence of thy bowels of mercy? Thou camest to call sinners to repētance, & wilt thou not heare them when they doe repent? thou camest to seeke those which wandred, & to assem­ble those which were dispersed, and wilt thou not receiue those which com vn­to thee, which crye after thee, which call [Page 34] vpon thee?

Thou diddest not stop thine eares whē thou wert blasphe­med; and wilt thou stop them now thou art intreated? thou didst not turne away thy face from those that spat vpon thee and buffeted thee, & wilt thou now turne it away from those that pray vnto thee?

O thou hope of my hart, & strength of my soule, whether [Page 35] should I run for suc­cour, to whome should I resort, but onely vnto thee, who art the reconciler, the redeemer, the Saui­our of mankinde? O reconciler, whome wilt thou reconcile to thy Father, if thou reiectest a poore sin­ner, who condem­neth himselfe, & cal­leth vppon thee? if death shall deuour him who dispaireth in himselfe, and tru­steth [Page 36] in thee? if that soule shall bee drow­ned in hell, which acknowledgeth his owne wickednesse with feare, and thy goodnesse with loue? O redeemer whome hast thou then redee­med? O Sauiour whome then wilte thou saue?

O Christ heare mee, O Christ helpe mee, or else tell mee thy vnwoorthy ser­uaunt, O mercifull [Page 37] God, tel thy seruant, to whome shall I cry? to whome shall I complaine? who is more able to helpe? who more easy to be intreated? to whom may I flie more safe­ly? to whome more readily? who is more mighty? who more mercifull? where may I bee more bolde? where more secure?

O thou onely re­fuge & reliefe of the distressed, to whome [Page 38] no man sueth with­out hope of helpe, forsake mee not now I call vpon thee, for before I did call vpon thee, thou diddst call mee; and to the end that I should seeke after thee, thou did­dest seeke out mee. Sweete Iesus I praise thee for this volunta­rie guift of thy good­nes, O let it not be vnprofitable vnto mee: Finish that which thou hast begun, and [Page 39] giue mee the thinge which thou hast mo­ued me to desire.

Heare my praier, & haue mercie vpon me a forsaken or­phane; looke vpon the teares of my mi­serie. Haue mercie vpon me, O sonne of Dauid, O fountain of mercie, haue mercie vpon me; let my soule be the sea to swallow vp those streames which flow from thee, O foun­taine [Page 40] of mercy. Heale the diseased, helpe the distressed which crieth to thee for comfort.

O light, behold the blinde; O strength, stretch forth thy hād that the lame may come vnto thee; O life, raise the deade out of the sepulchre of his sinnes.

O mercrfull louer of mankind, ah shew thy selfe vnto me; re­ueale thy glorie, re­ueale thy grace, oh [Page 41] let me beehold oh let mee hold thee.

Let mee finde, let mee feele, that thou onely art the hope of the distressed, the re­liefe of the afflicted, the comforte, the strength, the ioy of all. O Christ, let me not in vaine beleeue this trueth: O Christ let mee not in vaine lay hold vpon this hope: O Christ, let me not in vaine de­sire this mercie. [Page 42] And if my faith be so little, my hope so colde, my prayer so weake, that I can thereby deserue, nei­ther pardon of my punishment, nor par­ticipation of thy glo­rie; supplie thou I be­seech thee my imper­fections, that by thy mercy I may obtaine the one, and by thy merites the other.

O Sweete Iesu, O my God, bring mee from all ontward [Page 43] thinges to my selfe, and from my selfe vnto thee: make mee as like to thee in will and desier, as I am in nature: set me whol­ly on fire with thy loue; thy sweete loue, thy longinge loue, thy chast loue; with desire of thee, with contentmente, with ioy, with saciety in thee. Let this light of thy loue captiuate my sences from all other both lightes & [Page 44] delightes, let it cleere my soule from the grosse vapors of earthly affections; that I may thereby, if not fully satisfie, yet shew my selfe indus­trious to satisfie thy goodnes and good­will; and that as he­therto I haue liued a­gainst my selfe, and without thee, so from henceforth I may leade my life, for my selfe, in and by thee, sweete Iesus Amen.

O Soule, O wicked, O wretched soul, shake off sloath, this sleepe, this death of sinne, [Page 48] wherin thou walow­est, and wherin thou wanderest: raise vp, rowse vpp thy selfe from this dangerous dulnes. Call to thy consideration (vn­happie creature) from whence thou runnest, where thou art, and wherto thou hastnest: the fauour which thou forsakest, the horrour wherein thou abidest, and the terrour wherto thou tendest.

[Page 49] Thou wert once washed cleane with the heauēly fountain in baptisme, cloathed with the pure robe of righteousnesse, en­dowed wyth the ioies of heauen, and espoused to my Saui­our Christ: but now thou hast soiled thy selfe with sinne, defi­led that glorious gar­ment, broken those sacred bandes, and by impuritye of life hast made thy louing [Page 50] spouse, both thine earnest enemie, and seuere iudge.

O Christ, how can I forget thy goodnes, and yet how dare I remember thy great­nesse? I haue denied thee with Peter, bee­traied thee with Iu­das, and runne from thee with thy other disciples: nay, with the most accursed cruell Iewes, I haue mocked, blasphe­med, buffeted and [Page 51] scourged thee; spitte vppon thy glorious face, & torne opē thy tēder wounds. Then since I haue commit­ted theire crueltie, what hope may I haue to auoide their curse; that thy bloud be not vpon me, and my posteritie?

Alas (miserable wretch) in what path haue I walked? in what pollutions haue I wallowed? & in what perplexities [Page 52] am I now plunged? wherein, the consi­deration both of good and euill tor­menteth me a like: of good, with griefe of that which I haue lost: of euell, partly with sence of that which I sustaine: and partly with feare of that which I expect. I haue lost glory, I feele shame, I feare punish­ment: the losse is by mee irrepairable the shame inexcusable, [Page 53] the feare inconsola­ble. Oh miserable estate, oh vncomfor­table, not onely to be depriued of vnspeak­able ioies, but to bee afflicted with intolle­rable paines.

O sinne, the defi­ler, the deformer, the destroier of soules, from how high a pitch of happinesse hast thou deiected me? into how deepe a gulfe of miseries hast thou depressed [Page 54] mee? with what a world of woes hast thou enclosed mee? heere woe and there woe, and a very hell of woes is heaped vppon mee.

Iustly (Lord) iustly am I thus tormented; for I haue beene fainte, yea false in the charge that thou hast committed vnto me: I haue throwne away my spirituall wea­pons; I haue forsaken the fielde of christian [Page 55] combate; and not onely cowardly yeal­ded, but traiterously turned to the prince of darknesse.

I haue cast off my Sauiour, and cast a­way my selfe; I haue forsaken the societie of Saintes, & ioyned companie with the damned crew; I haue abādoned the palla­ces of heauē, & built mee a nest in the loathsome denne of hell: I am altogether [Page 56] become an abiect from God and a sub­iect to the Deuill.

What hast thou done, O madd man, O mischieuous, O monstrous man, what hast thou done? what a wofull ex­change hast thou made? what a lamen­table losse hast thou incurred? O peruerse will, O miracle of madnes. How, O God, hath corrupti­on depraued mee? [Page 57] how O God shall sa­tisfaction restore me?

Cast thy selfe (for­lorne wretch) into the vncomfortable dungeon of sorrow, ouerwhelme thy self with mountaines of bitter mourning: come griefe, come horror, cōe anguish, come feare; heape your felues vpon me, wrap me in, weigh me downe, I haue impudently contem­ned you, I haue des­perately [Page 58] prouoked you, and now doe miserably call for you.

So, so, it is iust, af­flict the wicked, tor­ment the guiltie, re­uenge the iniuries, reuenge the periuries which I haue com­mitted against God: giue the sinner a touch of the infernall tortures which hee hath deserued: giue him a tast of the ban­quet which he hath [Page 59] pre­pared. Comforte, peace, securitie, ioy, keepe away, I will none of you, except you bring a pardone with you: disquiet shallbe my rest, mourning my mirth, sowre sorrowe my comforte.

Alas, how shall I present my selfe be­fore the maiestie of the most righteous and vpright iudge? how shall my fearfull face behold him? [Page 60] how terriblie will he cast his countenance vpon mee? His eyes farre brighter thē the sunne, haue narrow­ly obserued all my actions, he hath weighed my words, he hath nombred my thoughtes; he hath seene, he hath sealed vp all my sinnes: hee hath hetherto bin si­lent, hetherto pati­ent; but out alas, hee will one day crie out, one day he will call [Page 61] mee to a reckoning for all.

O my hart, O poore harte, O harte full of miseries, yea depressed, yea oppressed with manyfold miseries; neuer able to sustaine these fire­brandes of consci­ence. Alas mine eies are not worthie to looke towardes hea­uen: yea, they are most worthy to bee extinguished with teares. If then I be a­shamed [Page 62] to be seene, how shall I be assu­red to be receiued? if I haue no harte to aske, what hope can I haue that I shall ob­taine.

Goe too then O sinfull soule, enter a­gaine into the closet of thy conscience, turne ouer the books of thy accountes, cast thy reckoninges, set downe thy summes; see what thou hast done, and what thou [Page 63] hast deserued.

Imprimis, for abu­sing many creatures, in desieringe, see­king and embrasing them aboue the Cre­ator. Item, for blas­pheming. Item, for swearing. Item, for lying. Item, for vile and vaine talkinge. Item, for couetous­nesse. Item, for cruel­ty. Item, for pride. Item, for ambition. Item, for riot. Item, for gluttony. Item, for [Page 64] drunkennes. Item, for lightnes. Item, for loosenesse. Item, for lust. Item, for enuie. Item, for hatred Item, for anger. Item for vnquietnesse. Item, for frowardnes. Item, for obstinacie. Itē, for rashnes. Item, for vio­lence Item, for idle­nes. Item, for sloath. Item, for hipocrisie. Item, for flatterye. Item, for curiositie. Item, for detraction. Item, for oppression. [Page 65] Item, for sclander, &c.

The totall snmme is, the manifest and manifolde breach of all thy commande­mentes.

The penaltie is, e­ternall banishmente from thy presence, & intollerable and end­les paines in hell fire.

Out vppon mee wretch, alas what shall become of mee? O my Lorde, I know not what to do, I can­not tel what answere [Page 66] to make: and beeing now in extremitye both of danger and feare, my cogitations trouble me, my con­science tormenteth me, euery thought is athorne vnto mee.

Nay goe on then a little further, looke downe into hell, be­fore thou leape into it; obserue there who expects thy coming, and what shall bee thy entertainment.

O good God, [Page 67] what do I behold in this infernal lake, no­thing but horror, tu­multuous and eter­nall horrour; fierie chaines, flaming whippes, scorchinge darknes, tormenting diuels, and burninge soules; howling, roa­ring and lamenting, woe and alas; with a mad rage blasphe­ming God; with a desperate impatiencie, cursing thē selues; tearing (in a maner) their [Page 68] owne substance, and enuiting the furious fiends to torment them.

Here euerie part of the condemned pri­soner hath both a ful and fitte charge of punishment, with­out either intermis­sion or change: the memorie is tormen­ted with pleasures that are past; the vnderstanding, with ioies that are lost; the apprehension, with [Page 69] paynes that are pre­sent; and (aboue all,) the conscience is gri­ped with euerie per­ticular offence that the sinner hath com­mitted; which once were sweete, but thē like serpents shall cru­ellye and restlestlye gnaw vpon him. Ne­uer ceasing to rubbe into his remēbrance, how base were the causes of his calamity what warninge was giuen, what meanes [Page 70] were offered him to haue auoided it; how easilie he might, and many times howe neerely he had appre­hended the occasion; and yet howe negli­gently, how foolish­ly, how madly hee continued in his careles course.

Further, the sight is afflicted with fear­full darknes and vgly diuells, the hearing with horrible and hidious cries, the [Page 71] smell with poisonous stink, the tast with bitternes of gall, the feeling with sharpnes of fire.

A fire, which as nothing doeth feede it, so it consumeth nothing that it doeth burne: a fire, which hath no light to com­fort, but heate to tormēt: a fire, whose force shall neuer bee either spent, or extin­guished, or yet aba­ted: but as longe as [Page 72] God is God, so long shall it tormente the wicked; and that with such vehemen­cie of heate, that one droppe of water to bee applied to the scorched tongue will bee of greater valua­tion then a thousand worldes.

And besides these common tormentes, euerie offender shall haue his particulare paines, according to the difference of his [Page 73] sinnes, either in qua­litie, or in kinde. Of which paines, not onely all, but any one shallbe so grieuous, & so intollerable, as it is impossible for any mortall wit, either to expresse▪ or to ima­gine. And yet shall no creature bee grie­ued at them; and en­dured they must bee without any hope, FIRST, of intermissi­on; SECONDLY, of a­batement; THIRDLY [Page 74] of change, (without which thinges, not onely painfull, but indifferent, yea plea­sant, become insup­portable;) FOVRTH­LY, of comforte, but to the contrarye, the diuelles shall vpbrayde them, the damned curse them, and the Saintes de­ride them; LAST­LY, of end, but after so many millions of ages as there are drops of water in the [Page 75] sea, the damned shall bee as farre from ey­ther end or ease of their tormentes, as they were the first day of their beegin­ning.

O intollerable pu­nishment, which no meanes can mode­rate, no patience can endure, no time shal end: Is this (O Lord) the wages of sinne? is this the punishment of wicked doers, of whome I am one, in [Page 76] so deepe a degree? and is it meruaile then if my cōscience quake? if my soule cleaue with sighes? and if my eyes bee drowned in teares.

But where am I, and whether am I carried? whether do you driue me, O my sinnes? whether, O God, doest thou de­liuer mee? If my sins haue made mee that I am thy offender, haue they also made [Page 77] me that I am not thy creature? If the Di­uell hath bereaued mee of my puritie, hath hee also beerea­ued thee of thy pit­tie? If thy iustice may rightly damne me, cannot thy mer­cies possiblye saue mee? and if I haue deserued the one, haue I thereby also disclaymed the o­ther?

O mercifull Lord, do not so looke vpon [Page 78] mee, that thou see not thy selfe: regard no so my wicked­nesse that thou bee­hold not thy owne goodnesse: remem­ber not so the sinnes that I haue doone, that thou forget the substaunce which thou hast made.

What (O Lord) is the sence of thys saying? I will not the death of a sinner, but I desire that hee bee con­uerted and liue: is this [Page 79] I will not the death of a sinner, if thou reie­ctest a sinnefull soul, if thou drownest it in hell, that crieth vnto thee for mercy? is this I desire that hee be conuerted and liue?

O gracious God, whose word is a will, and whose will is a power, who doest promise nothing but that which thou dost purpose, and who dost purpose nothing but that which thou [Page 80] able to performe, suffer me I pray thee, to speake with thy mercy; mee, I say, earth and ashes, suf­fer mee to speake with thy mercy, for great are thy mercies towardes vs.

Lord, if thou wilt not the death of a sin­ner, what necessitye is there that I should bee damned? If thou desirest that a sinner should be conuerted and liue, what diffi­cultie [Page 81] is there that I should not be saued? can the power and malice of the Deuill? can the number, can the enormitie of my offences, either con­straine that which thou wouldest not, or hinder that which thou desirest?

No, no, my God, the deuils tremble at thy mightie maiesty: and if the sinnes of the whole worlde were ballaunced a­gainst [Page 82] the least of thy mercies, they could holde no weighte; much lesse can the offences of one wic­ked wretch sway thy Almighty and mer­cifull will. For by how much God is greater then man, by so much is my wic­kednesse inferiour to thy goodnesse.

Haue mercy ther­fore vpon me, O al­mighty God, re­turne, del [...]uer my [Page 83] soule, saue me for thy mercies sake: for if thou wilt thou canst saue mee, and in thy will resteth the strength of my hope.

Remember not thy iustice, and my desertes, but remem­ber thy mercies, and my miseries: thinke not vpon thy hate to­wardes offenders, but thinke vpon thy loue towardes thy creatures: cast thy se­uere [Page 84] eye of reuenge vpon thy sonne, but looke vpon me with thy eye of pitty.

O deare God, hell is alreadie full, and what profite is there in my distructiō? Al­so many millions of sinners will neuer come vnto thee, will neuer cal nor care for thy helpe: so that if thou reiectest the re­pentant and sorrow­full sinner, who then shall bee saued? and [Page 85] whome wilte thou f [...]de righteous, if [...] iudgest with­out mercie?

When I was not, O Lord, thy fingers framed mee, and thou neither hatest nor contemnest any thinge that thou hast made. When I was a captiue of the de­uill, a slaue of hell, thou didest send thy beloued sonne to die for my redemption: and do not now I be­seech [Page 86] thee, cast that a­way, which thou h [...] purchased at soe [...]gh a price. When I wal­ked in my owne wic­ked waies, thou didst patiently endure me, mightily preserue me, and graciously call mee; and wilt thou not now bee­stow one louinge looke vpon mee?

Why then (O lo­uing God) looke vp­on thy beloued sonne: behold what [Page 87] hee hath suffered, & of thy goodnesse call him to thy remem­brāce, for whom, thy will & his obedience did cause him to suf­fer. Behold his bitter agonies wherein his bodie was sprin­kled with a bloo­die sweate; beeholde his backe torne with whips, his head pric­ked with thornes, his face defiled with spit­ting: behold his bles­sed body so strained [Page 88] vpon the crosse, that all his bones might be numbred: behold his harmlesse handes, & his vndefiled feete pierced with sharpe nailes: behold his naked side strooke through with a speare: behold the a­boundance of blood which gushed forth of those holy foun­taines; which blood still streameth fresh in thy sight, and now pleadeth for my par­don.

[Page 89] Beholde (O graci­ous God) how his feeling was possessed with paine, his hea­ring with reproach, his eies with scorne, his tast with gall: be­holde howe his neck bowed, his heade hung, his breast beat; how his sight waxed dimme, his counte­nāce pale, his legs & armes stiffe, how hee groaned; how hee gasped and gaue vp [Page 90] the ghost. Behold the preist, behold the sacrifice, euen the lambe vndefiled, glo­riously imbrued with his owne blood.

Gracious and mercifull God, by this thy sonne, by this my Sauiour, I most humbly bee­seech thee to looke fauourably vpon me; encline thine eares towardes me, hide not thy face now my soule is troubled. [Page 91] Graciouslie receiue the lost sheepe which strayinge from thy pastures through sinne, and flying from thy presence through a guiltie conscience, hee hath louinglye sought, and ioyfullye doth bring vnto thee vpon his own shoul­ders. Heare mee (O God of all power) & turne towardes mee; and let thy mercies accept his merits for full satisfaction of my [Page 92] misdeedes.

O infinite mercie, thou hast sett vs a way, and giuen vs a light; thou hast threa­ned vs the paines of hell, and promised vs the ioies of heauen, now pierce my flesh with thy feare, that I may auoide the one; and inflame my soule with thy loue, that I may attain the other. Grante I praye thee, that as longe trauei­lers are therby taught to loue their owne [Page 93] cuntrey, soe my for­mer err [...]urs may henceforth bee a meane to hould mee in the right path: that beeing led by thee, & walking through thee, I may come vn­to thee, and rest in thee: for wee (sillie wormes) are vnable to enter into thine e­ternitie, vnlesse thou who hast created vs, doest guide vs in.

Saue (O God who desirest not the [Page 94] deth of a sinner) saue my sinnefull soule, which flieth frō thy feareful iustice, to thy comfortable mercies; from the desert of my sinne, to the desert of thy Sonne. This (O God is easie to thy power, and vsuall to thy mercie, and a­greeable to thy will

O Most high, most ho­lye, moste mightye, most mercifull, most [Page 98] good, most goodly, most louinge, most fearefull and terrible God; the Creator, the renuer, the main­tainer of all thinges: whome to know, is to bee wise; whome to serue, is to raigne; whome to loue, is the life and happi­nesse of the soule: be­hold, I pore wretch, to thee who art both rich, and liberall; I miserable, to thee who art both pitti­full [Page 99] and plentifull do draw neere: behold, a hunger-starued begger knocketh at thy doore; open vn­to mee, O honoura­ble householder, without whome all aboundance is beg­gerie; open, I say, thy mercies to my miseries: and al­though I am not worthy to sitte at thy feast with thy sons, yet with the basest of thy seruantes, let me [Page 100] bee refreshed with some broken pieces that are taken from thy table.

Thou hast com­maunded vs, (O gratious God) to knock, to aske, and to seeke: whereuppon thou hast promised to o­pen, to geue, and to bee founde: beholde now my sighinge doth seeke thee, my teares crie vnto thee, and the groanes of my payned soule, do [Page 101] knocke at the gate of thy mercies: behold, Lord, I am desirous to doe thy will, per­forme thou, I besech thee, thy word.

And first (O Lorde) I acknow­ledge against my selfe, that I was con­ceiued in iniquitie, and borne in mise­rie; but thou of thy free loue diddest cleanse mee, thou diddest sanctifie me, thou didst through [Page 102] faith on my part and mercy on thyne be­troath thy selfe vnto me.

Yet I, vnmindfull of so greate goodnes, haue since, with ma­ny a foule fact, dis­tained my selfe, and dishonored thee; not dreading thy displea­sure, whole wrath maketh the deuells to quake. I was borne in necessary, but I plū ­ged my selfe in vo­luntarie sinnes, I made no conscience [Page 103] in offending thee, & feared not to forgett thy lawe.

Notwithstandinge thou, accordinge to thy wonted mercies, diddest not banish mee from thy pro­tection; but as though I had daylye and duly obserued thy will, thou diddest bountifullye heape thy benifites vppon mee; so much vnde­serued of mee, as not desired.

[Page 104] When I sinned a­gainst thee, the deuill was readie to haue made a pray of mee, I was content, I was desirous to haue perished with him: but thou (O Lord) diddest driue backe him, and draw backe me; not onely with­out either my re­quest or knowledge, but very much a­gainst my mind.

When I was in daunger of death, [Page 105] both by sickenesse & casualties, and my soule was so rocked a sleepe in sinnefull securitie, so burde­ned with the weight of wicked actions, that it must needes haue suncke downe into hell; thy grace stoode by mee, thy power did preserue, both my body from death, and my soule from damnation.

I did offend thee, but thou diddest de­fend [Page 106] mee. I did de­serue death, but thou diddest preserue life; I did not regard thee, when thou diddest safely guard mee: I (like a wretch eyther sencelesse of despe­rate) did forsake thee, and flie vnto mine enemie; I did long, I did labour to haue bene lost: but thy care did keepe mee, whilest I busied in vayne thinges neuer marked so much; thy [Page 107] loue did seeke with very greate and gra­cious fauours to win mee vnto thee.

But as one that is sicke of a sleepie dis­ease cannot bee awa­ked but by pinching; soe out of this lethar­gie of sinne, my slee­py soule (neither vn­worthie nor vnwil­ling to haue perish­ed) could not be cal­led to it selfe, but by some sharpe and sen­sible [Page 108] accident.

Heereupon thou begannest to runne with me a more rug­ged race, laying ma­ny kind crosses vpon mee; not onelye to bend my vnwilling, but to breake my wil­full minde, and to make it appliable to thy pleasure. Thou diddest call mee out of the wildernesse of worldlye delightes, wherin my guiltines would haue hid it [Page 109] selfe from thy pre­sence; thou diddest compell mee out of [...]e high way to hell; thou diddest take me vpp strayinge in the streetes to attend vp­on thee; thou diddest enter couenant with thy seruāt, thou did­dest stirre in mee a desire, & strengthen, an indeuour to fol­low thee: thou did­dest instruct, thou diddest enable, both my vnderstandinge, [Page 110] and also my power; that to discerne, this in some degree of duty to do thy will.

Yet I (wretch that I am) since my en­trance into thy ser­uice; haue either vn­graciously forgottē, or vngratfullye re­membred all thy be­nifites, and haue not so esteemed thee for them, as I would haue done a mortall friend for a few cur­tisies of course. I haue [Page 111] forsaken thee againe, and followed the right trace of the vn­righteous world; thinking euery thing good whose euell I had not tried. I haue prouoked thee, I haue stirred vp thine anger, I haue deser­ued thy displeasure, I haue done euell in thy sight; not igno­rātly but presumptu­ously; not weakly but wilfully; not fearful­ly, but impudently [Page 112] hauing not onely lost the tender touch of conscience, but bee­ginning to beare my selfe (an offence bee­yond the degree of my vile word) in a brauerie of euell.

Alas how deepely hath corruption tain­ted my soule? what folly hath not had his feate in my mind, and left his footsteps in my actions? Nay, I haue farre exceeded the limites of follye; [Page 113] noe man not banish­ed from his owne wittes, would thus haue bin entrapped, thus entangled. I should haue repen­ted mee of my for­mer sinnes, but I haue in such sorte both encreased & ag­grauated thē; that I haue scarce left, ey­ther number for more, or place for worse.

O my God, what answere shal I make? [Page 114] how shall I eyther excuse, or extenuate this my relapse? shall I pretend the slie sub­telties of the deuell; the fair-faced shewes of the worlde? the pleasant perswasions of the flesh? the wo­man gaue it me, the ser­pente deceined mee? Tush, all these are baites for babes; but I was come to a grea­ter staiednesse, both age, & in experience; I was warned, I was [Page 115] weapened; I was in­structed, I was encouraged; I shoulde haue vsed more wa­rines to suspect, more wisdom to discerne, more valure, both to defend my selfe, and defeat mine enemie.

Noe sure, I will neuer excuse him whome his owne conscience condem­neth: I had thy ex­presse word and will to stop me; my owne knowledge to bridle [Page 116] mee; I would haue disalowed those thinges that I did, if any other had done them but my selfe. When a mans me­morie is the bill of his debt, when his thoughts are willing wytnesses agaynste him, when his feare is his goaler, when his iudgment is his iudg, when his owne knowledg conuen­teth him, there is lit­tle doubt either of [Page 117] denying or decei­uing credite, and much lesse of making escape.

I, I, it is euen I that haue broken co­uenant with thee; I haue abused my rea­son, rather why to do amisse, then howe to amend; I haue falsifi­ed my faith; I haue riotously runne after the vaine conceits or rather deceits of sin; whose kindest cour­tesies are the allure­mentes [Page 118] of mischeife; which like a be-mi­red dogge, defileth with fawning; whose kisses are of power to kill.

I haue receiued manye freshe woundes, I haue re­nued all my oulde soares, and what thou (O Lorde) by thy mercies haddest healed, I by my madnes haue rubbed open; in soe much as sinne vsed agayne, [Page 119] hath made the par­done once granted to bee of none effect. I may well say with Iudas, I haue sinned; but either name or number my sinnes I cannot.

O bottomlesse sea of miserie and sor­rowe, wherin I haue plunged my selfe, allwaies sinckinge, & yet by the infinitnesse thereof neuer at the bottome; which I am able, neither to a­bide▪ [Page 120] hauing the fire­brandes of all furies within me, nor yet to auoide, beeing fette­red therein with the cruell chaines of my owne feare.

Oh my soule, full of wretchednesse, ful of shame, but fullest of guiltines, accept no obiect but of sor­rowe; drawe greede­ly into thy minde all conceites that maye increase thy griefe: bee ashamed, nay ab­horre [Page 121] to think of any comforte. Loath thy selfe, torment thy selfe, and soe shall thou doe some thing well; for thou canst neither loath nor tor­ment a more cursed creature.

Alas, howe is my soule abandoned? how are all the pow­ers thereof layd wast? comforte is no more ease vnto me, then is the handlinge of sore woundes. I am deui­ded [Page 122] in my selfe, how can I stand? I am ouerthrowne in my selfe, how shall I rise? my desire is payned because it cannot hope, and if it hath any sparke of hope, it is rather in change then riddance of griefe.

Forlorne wretch that I am, it had bin better for mee neuer to haue bin conuer­ted to grace, then thus peruersly to bee [Page 123] diuerted from the same; for then I should haue gon on in a sober securitie, and my punishment should haue bin soe much the lesse, as ig­norance is beneath contempt: but nowe I am not onely vn­happie, but vnhappy after the falle from some degree of hap­pinesse; nowe the footestepps of ouer­troden vertue laye cruell accusations a­gainst [Page 124] mee, and make the hatefull comparison of vice more manifest, mise­rable are they whoe lose they wott not what, but more mi­serable are they whoe knowe what they lose.

O foolish reason, how sharpe art thou to see thy mischiefe, and yet how dimme, how blinde art thou to foresee it? O poore remnant of pierie; [Page 125] onely soe much goodnes left, as to make me languish in my owne euell.

O sinne, the onlye fall of my iudgment and staine of my cōscience, now thou hast sacked my soule, now thou hast bea­ten it downe vnder thy tiranny, rest thy selfe, forbeare a while, treade not vp­on my ruins, set not fire to thine owne spoiles. And yet not [Page 126] so; but do thy worst, cruell and cursed sinne, do euen the verie worst that thou canst: the more ter­rours thou execu­test vppon mee, the more shall I both loath and lament the seruice that I haue done thee; the soo­ner shall I seeke to drawe my desires out of the mire of thy subiection.

There is yet left, both time to repent, [Page 127] and occasion to a­mend; yet doeth Christ, not only ad­mit but inuite to his feast: I coulde ney­ther see nor sorrowe for my sinnes, did not he both enligh­ten my vnderstan­ding, and soften my sences. Hee hath not enlightened my vnderstandinge to drowne it in darknes; he hath not softned my sences because he could not breake [Page 128] them; and why then hath hee thus wake­ned the one, and weakened the other.

It is euen soe: hee that hath hetherto in patience expected mee, doeth now in pittie call me. Speake then (Lord) speake vnto thy seruant; thunder into the in­ner eare of my harte; breake my deafe­nesse that I may heare thy voice. Lorde, thou lookest for [Page 129] mine amendmente that I may haue thy fauour; and I looke for thy fauour that I may amende.

Woe is mee, how longe haue I staied? Alas how late doe I come? how slowlye doe I hasten? howe doeth my resolution stick betweene loath­nesse and necessitie? woe is me wretch, how cunningly doth the deuell seeke to delay mee? what arte [Page 130] hath he vsed to keepe the line from brea­king wherat the fish was caught? not drawing him violent­ly, but letting him play vpon the hooke which hee soe gree­dely had swallowed.

O my God, the sunne of my life hath passed his Meridian, and I am now in the after noone of my age; the night of na­ture will come fast vpon mee, when [Page 131] death (as Gods ser­geant) will arrest, my bodie vpon debt to nature her selfe, my soule vpon trespasse committed against God. The one hee will binde hand and foote, and committe close prisoner to the graue: the other he will arraigne in the high court of hea­uen, where God shall bee both partie and iudge, to aun­sweare to all obiecti­ons, [Page 132] as well of er­rour as of contempt.

At this houre of death, when the sinn­full soule beginneth to bee loosed from the fetters of flesh, O good God, howe is it troubled? what ter­rours are presented vnto it? Then begin­neth it to throwe the thoughtes freely in­to euery corner of the conscience; to see the sinnes which it hath done; to per­ceiue [Page 133] the vengeance that it hath deserued; to consider, that the time of repentance is then at an end, and that it is set vpon the immoueable pointe of passage to a most stricte triall, vncer­taine howe the best actions that it hath done shall bee exa­mined.

It is desirous to stay, it is compelled to goe: and as it of­ten happeneth, that [Page 134] whilest one thinketh too much of dooing, he leaueth to doe the effect of his thinking; soe whilest it lamen­teth the losse of all the time that is past, it looseth that little which then remai­neth.

Looking backe, it esteemeth the whole race which it hath runne, as a short steppe; looking forward, it behould­eth the infinite space [Page 135] of eternytie wherin it hath to continue; lif­ting vp the minde to heauen, it discoue­reth a most bright & beautifull glorie; a­gaine, castinge it downe vpon the earth, it seeth all thinges enfoulded in a mistie darknesse. Heereupon, a new swarme of thoughts stingeth the minde; It lamenteth, that it was soe chained with the enchauntmentes [Page 136] of a momentanie es­tate, as scarce to thinke vpon the con­dition which neuer shall haue end; that to satisfie the flesh, which is to be a nest of wormes, it hath neglected the spirite, which was to haue bin a companion of Angells; that it hath lost, for soe short a shewe, the eternall substance of plea­sure; that it hath ex­changed, the trea­sure [Page 137] of immortall glorie for the trash of floating vanitie.

O, if it had but a smal time more of amend­ment, how seriously would it conuerte? what a sharpe and seuere course would it set into? but it is like vnto a horse, desi­rous to runne, & mi­serably spurred, but soe short reined that hee cannot stirre: or like vnto those who in their dreames are [Page 138] taken with some fear­full vision, which sweate with payne, and striue to crie for helpe, but cannot finde any strength to crie.

In the meane time, the head shoo­teth, the back aketh, the hart panteth, the throate ruttleth, the tongue faultreth, the breath shortneth, the flesh trembleth, the veines beate, the hart stringes crack; the [Page 139] eyes wex dimme, the nose sharpe, the browes harde, the cheekes colde and wanne, the lippes pale, the handes numme, the iointes stiffe; the whole bo­die is in a colde sweat, the strength fainting, the life va­nished, and death drawing on. Neither will the children and friendes (for whose sake the sick shall of­ten thinke them [Page 140] selues damned) for beare in this instant of extremitie; but continually like flesh flies they will offer molestation.

Whilst these sum­moners of death doe execute their office, all the wicked acti­ons, wordes and thoughts are broght into presence; they are heaped together, and aggrauated to the vttermost; they giue the conscience [Page 141] many a colde pull, and lie vpon the hart as heavie as leade. Faine would the sin­ner turne away his eye, but hee shall bee compelled to behold them; they will all crie vnto him; wee are thy workes, wee will goe with thee.

Then shall the conscience sharplye accuse, the memory giue bitter euidence, reason shall sit as iudge, feare shall [Page 142] stand as executio­ner; and scarce is there any seuere sen­tence in all the bible against sinne, which the deuell will not bring into minde, vrging euery poynt and amplifying it by construction. Then will resolution bee turned to trembling, pride into basenesse, confidence into de­spaire. Then will bee a greate difference in iudgment from [Page 143] that which men beare commonly in this worlde, in soe much as the sinner shall be forced to cry and confesse; we sim­ple men thought their life to be but madnesse, whose end wee now es­teeme most honourable: but wee haue wearied our selues in craggye waies, wee are worne out in pursuing vanity, and the waies of the Lorde wee haue not knowne.

[Page 144] Neuer did tirant exercise his rage with greatet cruelty, vpon anye that hee most hated, then the miserable sinner shall then vpon him selfe; in iustly condem­ninge, in vainly ac­knowledging, in vn­profitably lamenting the errours of his ac­tions; whilest the paines of parting shall drawe the powers of the minde from true repen­tance. [Page 145] All vaine pleasures are then at an end, and as quite forgotten as if they had neuer bin at all. Yea, euery wicked delighte shall geue sharp twitches to the soule; especially whē it considereth, that it is to endure the smart for manye thinges, wherof it must leaue the plesure to others.

Somtimes the sin­ner, more able to a­bide death then the [Page 146] feare of death, wish­eth to bee dischar­ged, from beeinge guided by soe euell a soule; not in full hope that his tor­mentes shall thereby either end or abate; but according to the nature of greife, the present being most painfull, hee desireth to chang, and to put in aduenture the en­suing. But when he doth perceiue in­finite legions of de­uells [Page 147] prepared to re­ceiue him, and the horrours of hell o­pen for his entertain­ment, then is hee in a maze of amaze­ment; then like one that houldeth a wolfe by the eare, bitten whilest hee holdeth, and slaine when hee lett goe.

Well then, (se­cure and sencelesse soule) howsoeuer the deuell woulde beare thee in hande, [Page 148] as hee did thy first parentes, that thou shalt not die: yet assure thy selfe this heauie houre, this fearfull, this dange­rous, this vnauoida­ble passage is not farre from thee, euen in the fardest and fai­rest course of nature; and may bee euerye houre, by many vsu­all accidentes, both of violence and of sicknesse. Thy con­tinuance is onely cer­taine [Page 149] in vncertaintie; and God would haue the time vnknowne, because thou shoul­dest bee allwayes rea­die.

Awake therfore, and watch ouer thy selfe; looke vpon the pale horse, and him that sitteth there­on, whose name is Death; prouide that thou be not sodaine­ly surprised, and die before thou beginne to liue. Loose not [Page 150] the offer of occasion, whilest it may not onely bee taken, but offereth, yea sueth to bee taken; and if it be not now taken, will neuer heereafter be ouertaken.

Christ yet distri­buteth the treasures of hys mercye, the doore standeth yet open, to all that will bee suiters for the same; his nature is nowe as apte to for­geue, as hys power [Page 151] will be able hereafter to punish. The kings of Israell were not so famous for heir mercy among the ser­uauntes of Abinadab, as the God is among vs. When thou didst sinne, hee did spare; when thou didst de­ferre, he did expect; when thou shalt re­turne he will ēbrace. The bowelles of his mercie doe still o­uerflowe, neyther wante their issues to [Page 152] deriue the streames thereof into thy soule: his backe was torne, hys handes and feete were pier­ced, hys side was opened: throughe these holes thou maist see the aboun­daunce of his loue, at these holy holes thou maist taste the sweetenesse of hys mercy.

Present thy selfe therefore vnto him in all those humble [Page 153] behauiours, which the consideration of his maiestie and thy miserie can possibly frame; be penitent for the time past, and resolue for the time to come; and with as greate confidence as necessitie crye vnto him and say.

O Christ, O eter­nall light, O life of all thinges, to whom nothing is soe greate that it can resist, no­thinge soe small that [Page 154] it is contemptible; whom no man is soe good that he doth not neede, noe man soe euell that he may not hope; I beseech thee; by the nobl [...]st title that in my grea­test affliction I can geue my selfe, that I am thy creature; and by thy onely name of comfort vnto sin­ners, that thou art mercifull; heare my vile voyce, helpe my distressed soule, and [Page 155] in the time of neces­sitie and trouble bee gra [...]ious vnto me.

Behold (O Lord) howe my conscience lyeth queasomed vn­der the multitude of my offences; behold how I am borne downe wyth the weight of my owne weakenesse: and doe not thou, whose pro­pertie is not onely to spare, but to helpe, eyther lighten the burthen, or lay vn­der [Page 156] thy heauenlye hand, my soule must needes sincke downe into hell.

But thou (O Lord) hast neither delight nor likinge in the death of sinners; thou didst dy to raise vs vp from the death of sin. O good Iesu, thou diddest re­deeme vs when wee were thine enemies, and shall wee bee destroied now wee are thy suppliantes? [Page 157] thou diddest call vs to mercie when wee craued none, and wilt thou denye vs now we are suiters for it? through thy death wee were brought vnto life, and shall we dy now thou doest l [...]ue? O thou whoe helpest the weake wich a worde, behoulde, I come, I call, I looke for thy mercie; hide not thy face, stoppe not thine eare, cast [Page 158] mee not out of thy regarde: let it suffice that I feel mine own weaknesse and want, least I should haue beene too proud in my selfe; now let thy power and plentye appeare, that thereby I may bee confident in thee.

O Christ, the guide of those that seeke thee, the light of those that see thee, and the life of those that loue thee; O [Page 159] sweete Sauiour, what shall I say? whether shall I goe? where shall I seeke thee? or wherefore doe I not see thee? O my God, if thou bee absent from mee, where shall I seeeke thee? if in all places thou art present, wherefore doe I not see thee?

O infinite good­nesse, passing all humane both search and sight, thou both [Page 160] fillest and includest all thinges; thou art in euerie place pre­sent without either seate or motion; giue mee grace for thy loue and desires sake I beeseech thee, to cast off the blinde burthen of fleshlye affections; subdue my reason, regene­rate my will, and pu­rifie my nature; lead my desire that I may seeke thee; lighten my vnderstandinge [Page 161] that I may see thee: for I can neither seeke thee without thou direct mee, nor see thee except thou reueale thy selfe.

Gracious God, I haue noe goodnesse in my selfe, but onely to finde that I haue no goodnesse like a scholler, who is come to that de­gree of knowledge, to knowe him selfe vtterly ignorante: but suffer (I beseech [Page 162] thee) some beutifull beame of thy ma­iestie to shine into my soule, disperse the cloudes wher­with my conscience is ouercast, melt the mistie darknesse which couereth my vnderstanding. O thou who saydest let there be light, and light was made; speake the worde and my soule shall bee enlightened, that I may playnly see [Page 163] thee, and perfectly knowe thee, and ar­dently both desire and loue thee.

O surpassinge light, deliuer mee from the shadow both of ignorance and errour, and con­sequently from the darkenesse of death; swallow me vp in the depth of thy brightnesse; dazell my eyes, that I maye not bee able to see any thing but thee; [Page 164] possesse all my bo­dily sences, that my sinnefull affections, or rather defections may finde no place, but that I maye soe feele thee, that I haue noe feelinge of my selfe.

O Lord of life, all­though I am a sinner, yet I am thy crea­ture, beecause thou hast made mee, yea and made me againe; both by redeeming, and by often renu­ing [Page 165] mee: helpe mee therefore whome of thy goodnesse thou hast fashioned, let mee not perish in my miserie whom of thy mercie thou hast redeemed, go­uerne mee heerafter whome hetherto thou hast preserued; despise not (O Lord) the worke of thine owne handes. For wherfore hast thou created mee? bee­cause thou wouldest [Page 166] damne mee? It had bin better for mee neuer to haue bin made, then to bee confounded in my owne corruption. Listen (O Lord) to the crie of thy poore Orphane; cast mee not off in thy dis­pleasure, and my distresse; forsake mee not, for thy sake, I beeseech thee.

And although I haue in such sorte, both defiled and de­faced [Page 167] this thy crea­ture, that thou mayest iustly refuse to take knowledge of mee; yet by thy mercies I pray thee, wherein thou art more wonderfull then in all thy workes, remoue the one, and renue the other; rubbe out with thy bloode the staines which sticke in my soule and then thou wilt knowe it, to bee thy creature.

[Page 168] O Lord my God, at whose presence all powers doe shake, at whose becke all creatures obey, looke fauourably vpon me from thy glorious seate; let thy maiestie shine vnto mee through thy mercie: bee not angrye with vs (wormish weak e­linges) although we offend, for thou knowest what wee are, and whereof we are made. Is not [Page 169] man rottennesse? are not his desires vani­tie? is not his life miserie, and a verye shadowe of death? wilt thou shewe thy strength against a worme? against a leafe? against a blast? O thou who grantest truce of life, there are but twoe pleas before thy throne, either of innocencie, or els of mercie: I doe cleerely debarre my selues of the one, [Page 170] oh let my soule runne into the armes of the other.

Haue mercie vp­on mee O gracious God, haue mercy vpon mee, a most wret­ched creature; deale not with mee accor­ding to my desertes, but according to the greatnesse of thy mercie, which is infinitely more then the sinnes of the whole world.

O almighty God, [Page 171] from whose sight there is noe couert, and against whose power ther is, nei­ther resistance nor flight, looke not vp­pon mee with thy eie of iustice, drawe not thy sworde of vengence against mee; but extend that compassion, which thou hast soe graci­ously, soe deerelye purchased for mee.

I acknowledge in­deede, that amonge [Page 172] all, and aboue all sinners, I am wret­ched; I acknowledge also that I am vna­ble to satisfie for my sinnes: but (O sonne of God) bee­hold that in thy selfe, which may moue thee to haue compassion vppon mee. Soe often as thou beehouldest the woundes of thy bruised bodie, soe often let pittie pierce thy harte: Soe often [Page 173] as thou behouldest the blessed streames of thy bloode, wher­of one droppe had bin sufficient for re­demption of the whole worlde, soe often couer my sinnes, and recouer mee.

Forgiue my igno­rance, forget my presumption, par­done my iniquities, relieue my necessi­ties; let my sinnes no longer bee a cloude [Page 174] betweene my prayer and thy pittie, bee­tweene thy good­nesse and my dis­tresse, most gracious God, who art mer­cifull towardes all, suffer not mee to bee distitute of thy mer­cie: for although I haue committed that whereby I maye bee damned, yet hast thou neither for­gone, nor forgotten that wherby thou art wout to saue.

[Page 175] O wretch that I am, how coldly doe I crie? how weakly doe I craue? woe is me wretch, how is my harte hardened, that mine eies doe not poure forth plen­tie of teares? how sencelesse is my vn­cleane soule, that my flesh tremble not, that my iointes doe not shake vntill my knees knocke toge­ther? But wherefore do I expostulate with a dead carcase? Alasse, [Page 176] I am nothinge but vanitie; a rotten roote, without anye life of vertue; a bar­ren grounde, bring­ing forth nothinge but sinne, shame and damnation: I am v­nable, either to giue thee any thing but of thine owne goodes; or to doe any thinge for my selfe, but by thy free guifte.

Wherefore, O sweete sauiour, by thy tender loue, and [Page 177] by all thy mercies I beeseech thee, giue mee grace, that with thy goodes and by thy guiftes, I may serue thee, and sor­rowe for my sinnes; giue mee alsoe a floude of teares in token of thy fauour, that I may sweetlye poure them beefore thy presence, with greate reuerence and feare, in bewailinge mine offences, Mol­lifie my stonie harte, [Page 178] illuminate my mistie minde, subdue my flesh to my soule, my soule vnto reason, my reason to faith; let mee ioie only in enioyinge thee, in whome, desire ne­uer wanteth sacietie, and sacietie neuer breede dislike.

Come thou into mee, that I may re­maine in thee, shake off these shackles, free me from this weight of fleshly affections [Page 179] that leauing and loa­thing all earthlye de­sires, I may firmelye resolue, speedely be­ginne, and constant­lye continue, in doo­inge and sufferinge thy holy will.

Poure vpō my hart the sweete stremes of thy grace, that therby my affectiōs may be framed, to honour thee as a Creator, to loue thee as a redee­mer, to expect thee as a Sauiour, & to feare [Page 180] as a iudge. Let mee allwaies bee hum­bled beefore thee, and neuer bee high minded, but onelye in mindinge thinges on high.

Write thy name with thy owne fin­ger within the tables of my breast, neuer to be either shadow­ed or worne out; that I may continu­ally feede my hun­gry ho [...]es, with sted­fast remembrance [Page 181] and regard of thee: for firmly to remem­ber, & reuerently to regard thee, is our mortall manner both of holdinge and bee­holding thee.

Let the firie force of thy loue swallow vp my soule, that being altogether possessed therwith, it may nei­ther feele, nor desire, nor once thinke vpō any erthly thing; but bee alwaies and one­ly, not onelye ioined [Page 182] but vnited to thee: for as thy goodnesse towardes vs is vn­measurable and in­finite soe wee are bound to loue thee without either mea­sure or end.

Lorde, my whole desire is before thee, and my thoughtes are not secret from thy sight; turne not thy countenance from my complaint; heare mee, O my God, and grant my [Page 183] petion; grant my pe­tion, that thou mayst heare mee.

Reach mee thy helping hande, draw my soule out of the mire of sinne wherin it is fast set, that I pe­rish not in the pre­sence of thy pittie. Deliuer mee frō the snares that th' enemy hath laid, to take the souls of sinners ether willfull, or secure; cutt away occsions of euell beefore mee; [Page 184] guide mee vnto thee the streightest course; and soe long as I am to continue in this vile vale of miserie, settle mee in that state of life wherein I may best please thee and plea­sure others.

Giue mee grace, O gracious God, that although I haue hetherto had noe care to liue well, yet nowe I may wholly and holyly bend my [Page 185] care to die well; that from henceforth I may liue in thy feare, die in thy fauour, rest in thy peace, rise in thy power, and remaine in thy ioie. Amen.

O Lorde Ie­sus, infi­nite in pi­tie, infinite in power, infiite all­soe both in thy re­wards, and in thy re­uenge: I am weakly [Page 188] (thou knowest) ra­ther willing then de­sirous, with my soule to loue thee, with my flesh to feare thee, with my minde to honor thee, with my mouth to praise thee, with my whole substance to serue thee, to commend my whole substance vnto thy protection. But alas, I am soe clogged with cor­ruption, I am soe drowned in flesh [Page 189] and bloud, that I scarce either dare or can lif [...] vp my head, and looke vnto thee: and yet why should I bee ashamed when thou doest inuite mee? why should I bee faint when thou doest not onely in­courage, but alsoe enable mee, or at the least accept my weake endeuour?

Striue then, O the verie bowels of my soule, striue with [Page 190] all your strength to raise your thoughtes, out of this mire of mortallitie wherein they sticke, out of these waues of fleshly affections wherein they floate, without either firme footinge or certaine drift. Ad­uance thy selfe to­wardes thy creator, Frame thy affecti­ons, to loue him for his goodnes, to ho­nour him for great­nes, to reioice in him [Page 191] for his merites, to pray vnto him for his mercies, which daylye thou doest neede, and by nee­ding doest craue, and by crauing doest obtaine; if not accor­ding to thy desires, yet verye farre aboue thy deserts.

O Lord, I con­fesse vnto thee, that my harte is vncleane, and that I am a man of polluted lippes; wallowing in the [Page 192] dunge, and stinkinge in the rottennesse of my owne sinne: soe that I may iustlye tremble to appeare before thy glorious presence, much more to present vnto thee thy pure prayses out of my defiled mouth. But who except thou (O Lorde) can make mee cleane, and what is pure which thou hast not purged?

Thee therefore, O [Page 193] Father of life, O Lord of light, thee with all the forces of my soule, thee most humbly, most ear­nestly I do beseech; heare O mercifull, helpe O myghtye Lord, helpe thy ser­uant whome of thy mercie thou hast created: clense my filthynes, lighten my darknes, enflame my coldenes, quic­ken my dulnes, a­wake my drowsines, [Page 194] reuiue my deadnes; repaire the ruines of my soule, enlarge the frame of the vn­derstanding thereof, clense it from all earthly corruption, garnish it with thy heauenly graces, that it may bee conueni­ently both fitt and furnished to receiue thee; that thou maist make thine entrie, & possesse that which is thine owne, both by creation, & also by re­demption; [Page 195] and that as thou art exalted a­boue all creatures, soe aboue all crea­tures I may honour thee, loue thee, and praise thee; not with that affection where­with my weakenesse is able, either to doe or to desier; but with that perfection wherewith in dutie I should, and where­with thy Saintes and angells indeede doe.

O giuer of life, O [Page 196] restorer, O preser­uer, O enlightner of life; O most louinge and louely Lorde. But what shall I say? where shall I finde full praises to extoll thee? my speach fal­treth, and my spirit faileth; my tongue can applie no fitting wordes, neither can my minde supplye sufficient matter: I want wordes to ex­presse my minde, I want alsoe a minde [Page 197] to apprehende thy merites: I conceiue farre aboue the abi­litie of my vtterance, and yet farre vnder the dignitie of thy desertes.

Lord, my soule is desirous to yeelde praises to thee for thy benefites, but it is v­nable to conceiue that which is wor­thy, and vnwilling to vtter that which is vnworthy; it is asha­med to sende forth [Page 198] woordes, knowinge how weake they are for soe weightie an office. without thy presence it can neuer attaine to any degree of thy praise: let it therefore haue thee (O Lorde) that it may in some measure praise thee.

For what worthy praise can I giue vnto thee, by whose goodnes I was crea­ted, by whole mer­cie I was redeemed, [Page 199] by whose power I am preserued, and by whose grace I looke to bee glorified? when I was not, thou diddest make mee; when I was lost and forlorne, thou camest downe, and tookest mortal­litie vpon thee to redeeme mee: thou a King, diddest hum­ble thy selfe to exalt mee; thou wert sould to redeem mee; thou wert wounded to [Page 200] heale mee; and thou diddest dye to saue mee.

O sonne of God, how hast thou abased thy selfe? how were thy affections infla­med? how large were the limits of thy mer­cie? Lorde, thou hast loued mee more then thy selfe, bee­cause for my sake thou wouldest en­dure, not onely a contemptible life, but both a shamefull [Page 201] and painfull death.

And yet did not thy loue in this sorte leaue mee, but thou hast continuallye soe followed mee with thy fauours, as though thou haddest regarded mee alone, and neglected all thy other creatures.

When I wan­dred thou diddest seeke mee, when I was ignorant thou diddest instruct mee, when I offended [Page 202] thou diddest correct mee, when I sorrow­ed thou diddest com­forte mee, when I stumbled thou did­dest stay mee, when I fell thou diddest raise mee, when I stoode thou diddest strengthen mee; in my affaires thou did­dest direct mee, in my troubles thou diddest helpe mee, in my dangers thou diddest deliuer mee; waking thou diddest [Page 203] inlighten mee, slee­ping thou diddest watch mee, sinninge thou diddest suffer mee, and prayinge thou diddest heare mee. Further, thou hast annointed mee with thy holy spirit, and giuen mee a minde to follow thee; thou hast called mee by thine owne name, and thou hast sealed mee with thy bloude vnto eternall life.

[Page 204] These and manye other benefites haue I receiued, some in hand, and some in hope; although through my owne sinnefull demeanor, I haue almost both let go my hold, and lost my hope. But what? if by my owne fault I haue lost these graces, shall I bee vnthankefull to him, by whose fauoure once I had them.

Lorde, I can [Page 205] yealde noe reason wherefore I had them but that thou wert mercifull; ney▪ can I say any thinge nowe I haue soe neere lost them, but that thou art iust: & therefore I thanke thee beecause thou diddest giue mee them, I am sorie bee­cause I haue noe bet­ter kept them, and I pray thee that thou wouldest againe ful­ly restore them. For [Page 206] I assure my selfe, that thy goodnes is as willinge to restore as it was to giue; and that my weakensse is as able to recouer as it was to receiue.

Therefore, O Lorde Iesus, by thy precious teares, by thy blessed bloude which thou diddest shedd for my re­demption, by the aboundance of thy mercies I most hum­bly beeseech thee, [Page 207] saue thy seruant, saue one of thy members, though poore and feeble; saue, I saye, a part of thy selfe. Be as greate in pardo­ning those that are submitted vnto thee, as in punishing those that are rebellious: poure vpon my heart the sweete streames of thy mercies; con­forme my life, con­firme my faith, settle mee in a right and vpright course, and [Page 208] contynue mee in the same euen vnto the end.

The worlde (O Lorde) is wrapped in darkenesse, where­by it is made subiect, both to the pollicies and power of our most dangerous and deadly enemy: who beeing the prince of darkenes, is thereby become alsoe the prince of the worlde: but by thy light his malice is discouered, [Page 209] by thy wisdome his deceites are auoided, and by thy strength his power is repelled. Hee hath manye and verye greate thinges (I confesse) to laye vnto my charge, but for thy names sake (O Lorde) rebuke him, and deliuer me. Drawe my desires aboue the pitch of his darkenesse, raise my soule out of this myrie lake of misery, which affoordeth [Page 210] nothing, but eyther daungers or discon­tentmentes; that this filthy lumpe of flesh onely may abide on earth, but my thoughtes may con­tinually attend vpon thee.

O sweete Iesus, the way of health, the gate of life, the pallace of pietie, of ioy, of safetie; I doe too much depresse thy benefites whilest I labour to expresse [Page 211] them: for they haue not onely filled, but ouerflowed the frame of the worlde. But, O thou who vn­fealest the silence of the dumbe, vntie my tongue, that I may declare thy goodnes, and giue my voice a power to praise thee for the same.

By thee (O Lord) the exile is reduced, the captiue redemed, the sinner is iustified, the sicke are healed, [Page 12] the dead are raised, and the damned are saued. By thy good­nesse wee are crea­ted, by thy power wee are preserued, by thy mercye wee are saued. Thou diddest create vs without any neede, thou doest gouerne vs without any la­bour, thou mayest destroie vs without any losse. Thou hast giuen all thinges vn­der heauen for our [Page 213] vse, either necessarye or conuenient; and yet diddest thou not thinke that enough, but thou hast allsoe appointed thine an­gells to attend vpon vs, to stande aboute vs, to watch ouer vs, to bee messengers for our seruice bee­tweene thee and vs.

And not onelye mankinde hast thou exceedinglye both honoured and en­riched with thy bles­singes, [Page 214] but the hea­uens, the starres, the earth, the aire, the seas, the floudes, the day, the night, and whatsoeuer else thou hast ordained, either for the necessitie or delight of man, are by thee renued, and restored to the end for which they were created. For all thinges were made for the seruice of man, and man for the seruice of God: [Page 215] but once they serued those who serued i­doles, and then they were without anie dignitie, then in a verie kinde of death, being diuerted from the right vse of their creation. But now they are exalted, now reuiued, now they reioice to serue those, who serue and worship thee, O Lorde.

But why doe I confine thy benefites [Page 216] within the compasse of the whole worlde? They haue prepared downe into hell; they haue alsoe sur­mounted aboue the heauens. Thou hast subdued the king­dome of Sathan; thou hast broken the chaines of darkenesse and death; thou hast loosed the captiuitie of hell. By thee alsoe the angells expect a restitution of the breach which was [Page 217] made amongst them, by reuolt of those which fell.

O singular grace, O admirable good­nesse, whereby man­kinde is saued; the elementes are renu­ed hell is van­quished; and heauen is repaired. O beu­tifull, O bountifull Iesu, thou hast bles­sed al creatures, & all creatures againe doe blesse & praise thee: by thy holinesse they [Page 218] are blessed, by thy happinesse they re­ioice, by thy fullnesse they flourish.

O holy, O happie, O high Iesu, how is my dull sight dazel­led with thy excee­ding brightnesse? My affections laboure to attaine vnto thee, but whether, I pray thee, doest thou flie the pursuite of my vnderstanding? How exceedest thou the compasse of my con­ceite? [Page 219] Tarry O Lord, tarrie a while for my feeble feete, which straine to followe thee: hide not thy selfe from my dim eies, which seeke to see thee: haue pittie vppon my weake soule, which wearily panteth after the sa­uour of thy saluation. Reach forth thine heauenly hand; leade mee Lorde, lighten mee Lorde, let mee put the finger of my [Page 220] faith into thy woundes; let mee looke a little how thou hast loued mee.

Oh wonder of wisdome, O miracle of mercie: God made all thinges, and God was made man: God made all-thinges of nothinge, and without man all-thinges had turned to nothinge: God made all thinges of him selfe, but God [Page 221] would not restore all thinges without man. Hee was bee­gotten of God by whome all thinges were made, hee was borne of a woman by whom all thinges were renued: he was beegotten of God with out whome there was nothinge, hee was borne of a woman without whome nothing was well.

O Christ, perfect [Page 222] God, and perfect man; O sweete safe­tie, O secure ioye; howe wonderfull, how worthy a mat­ter, how weightie is it which I doe bee­houlde? I am much delighted to see it, and yet I scarce dare vtter it. Let my sen­ces bee silent for a time, let the tumul­tuous cogitations of my minde bee qui­et; reason cannot shewe her selfe more [Page 223] reasonable, then to leaue resoning in matters aboue her reach. What was hee made? and what hath hee made vs? Shall I speake with ioie, or with modes­tie houlde my peace? But that which my hearte doth beelieue with loue, shall not my mouth confesse with praise? I w [...]ll speake therefore, not with an high, but with an humble spi­rite; [Page 224] not to glorie in my selfe, but to glori­fie God.

The Sonne of God was made man, to make men the sonnes of God. If then hee hath made vs the sonnes of his father, hee hath ther­by made him selfe our brother▪ ther­fore, our intercessor is our brother, our iudge is our brother, our Sauiour is our brother, our God is [Page 225] our brother. With what assurance then may wee hope? what feare shall inforce vs either to dispaire or to doubt? seeing our saluation dependeth vpon the will of our most louing brother? With what securitie may wee flie vnto him? with what bouldnesse may wee embrace him? with what confidence may wee intreate him? Our louinge brother [Page 226] will giue vnto vs the good which wee do desire, and forgiue vs the euell which wee doe deserue; hee will aske for vs, hee will obtaine for vs, what­soeuer is expedient: the sonne wil entreat the father for his children, and the father will heare the sonne for his brethren.

Let the diuell then doe his worst to dismay mee; let my foolish feare murmur [Page 227] as much as it will; let them both vrge theyre abiect ob­iections, and saye; who art thou? howe greate are thy sinnes? and where (in Gods name) are thy demerites? I will an­swere with assu­rance, I knowe what I am my felfe; and I knowe who hee is vnto whome I trust Hee hath giuen mee his gracious worde, [Page 228] who is both in pro­mise true and migh­tie in performance; hee will doe what he can for my safetie, and can doe whatso­euer hee will. When I call to my conside­ration the inestima­ble both bent of his loue, and treasure of his mercie, then may I plainly both see and say, as the seruant of the prophette did when his eies were [Page 229] opened: they are more that stande for vs, then they who are against vs. 2. Reg. 6. 15. The multitude of my sinnes shall ne­uer choake his loue; I can want noe me­rites soe longe as hee doeth want noe mer­cies: If his loue bee greate, my sinnes are but small; and if greate bee his mer­cies, greate likewise shall bee my merites.

[Page 230] He hath registred mee on his backe; he hath engrauen me in his handes, hee hath sealed me on his side; the whippes, the nailes, the speare haue surely signed his loue vnto mee: they proclaime his mercie to bee claimed of all men; they crie comforta­bly vnto mee, that I neede not feare.

Hee hath displai­ed [Page 231] his blessed bodie abroade vpon the crosse, his armes spreade to imbrace mee, his heade bow­ed downe to kisse mee, his hearte laide open to loue mee▪ Into those armes of my Sauiour will I runne, beetweene these armes will I rest, beetweene these armes will I reioice. I will sprinckle my heart with the bloud [Page 232] of this lambe, and the destroyer shall haue noe power to hurte.

My sinnes greater then can bee forgiuen? Thou liest, Caine; our sinnes can stande in noe degree of comparison with the mercies of God; but soe farre as God is greater then man, soe much doeth the goodnesse of the one exceede the euell of [Page 233] the other. As the nature of God is in­finite and vnmeasu­rable, soe cannot his loue bee limitted, soe is there noe measure of his mercie; as the nature, soe the good­nesse of God is knowne only to him selfe.

The sonne of God hath taken our sub­stance vpon him, hee hath exalted it aboue the heauens, he hath [Page 234] seated it in the king­dome and glorie of his father: In him I haue a portion of flesh aud bloud, in him a parte of my selfe euen now doth reigne, in him a part of my selfe is alrea­die glorified: and as I doe nothing doubt of this his commu­nion with mee in na­ture, soe will I not distrust of my parti­cipation, both heere [Page 235] of his grace, and heereafter of his glo­rie; for although I am sinnefull, yet is not hee soe vnnatu­rall, that either hee can forgette, or will forsake his owne mē ­bers.

Hee that dispai­reth or distrusteth his owne safetie, hee de­nieth Christes mer­cie: and consequent­ly, hee denieth his loue, hee denieth [Page 236] his truth, hee deni­eth his power; the loue of his passion, the truth of his pro­mise, and the power of his ascention. Therefore, the more willinge hee was to suffer, and the more able hee is to saue, the lesse cause haue I to feare; for when all thinges shall faile, he will most constantly keepe his faith.

O wonderfull [Page 237] misterie, O excee­ding mercie, euer to bee admired, euer to bee loued: wee were not worthye to bee seruantes, and loe we are made the sonnes of God; yea the heires of God, and fellowe heires with Iesus Christ. Who but must bee ama­sed at such bowelles of mercie? who but will reioice at such aboundance of loue? [Page 238] which when I call to my consideration, the burthen of my flesh doeth not so presse me, the weight of my mortalitie and miseries are not soe grieuous as they were wont.

Gracious Lorde, what thankes, what praise shall I tender to thee for this adop­tion? where shall I get good wordes to set forth this thy [Page 239] good will? Surely, if I had the tongue and knowledge of An­gells, yet could I nei­ther thanke thee, nor thinke of thee as is it meete. For thy ex­ceeding loue, proce­ding from thy meere goodnesse, reacheth beyond all boundes, both of vtterance and vnderstandinge: thy praise, Oh Lord; is incomprehensible; and then wee doe [Page 240] most praise thee, when wee knowe thee to bee thine owne praise, and ac­knowledg our selues vnable to praise thee.

But, O sweete Sa­uiour, whome none seeketh but the ad­monished, none fin­deth but the guided, I beeseech thee by thine inestimable goodnesse, let mee not bee vnthankfully [Page 241] silent for these thy benefits teach me se­cretly in my hearte, O my God, teach mee thy humble ser­uant, O mercifull God, euen by thy greate mercies, I be­seech thee, teach my hearte, with what re­uerence it shoulde thinke of thee; tell my soule, with what delight it shoulde loue thee; giue my tongue some power [Page 242] to poure forth praises vnto thee: correct my weakenesse, erect my hope, direct my desires: finish the work that thou hast bee­gunne, and bringe mee to the fullnesse of thy mercie.

I was dead and buried in sinne, I shoulde haue rotted in distruction, but thou diddest raise mee, thou diddest reuiue mee, by thy [Page 243] loue I liue: a [...]d ther­fore I offer my selfe wholly vnto thee, most earnestlye en­treating thy gracious acceptance, that wee may loue and liue together.

O Lorde Iesus, I bowe the necke of my soule vnder the feete of thy maiestie, and in the lowest de­gree of reuerence, doe giue thee most humble and hartie [Page 244] thankes for these thy benefites: I yeelde thee praise (O Lorde) although base and bare, and farre vnanswerable to thy desertes: yet something my weak­nesse is bounde to performe; namelye, to settle my minde to beeholde and loue thee, and to praise thee with wordes soe well as I can.

O amiable, O ad­mirable [Page 245] Iesu, let mee loue thee allwaies, because thou did­dest loue mee firste: let mee loue thee on­lye, for hee loueth thee too little, that loueth any thing be­sides thee, except it bee for thy sake; all­waies and onely let mee loue thee, bee­cause by thee onelye I shall alwaies liue.

O that my hearte did so languish with [Page 246] thy loue, that it might melt the moy­sture of my bodie in­to teares, oh that the bowells of my soule were soe enflamed with thy loue, that it might consume all drossie desires, and drie vp the verie mar­rowe of my bones: oh that I were sicke for the loue of him, whoe died for the loue of mee.

Lorde, allthough [Page 247] I bee not worthy soe to loue thee, yet art thou worthy much more to bee loued. Therefore (O louing Iesu) doe not soe de­nie mee that wherof I acknowledge my selfe vnworthy, that thy selfe be depriued of that, wherof thou art most worthye. Graunt (O Lorde) graunt I beeseech thee, not for my de­sertes, but for thy [Page 248] mercies sake, graūt to my soule, that it may loue thee as thou hast deserued. Grannt (I say) that I may bee worthy to giue that, which thou art wor­thy to receiue: soe shall I bee worthy of that, whereof nowe I am vnworthy.

It is verie much (O Lorde) that I doe desire, beeinge alltogether vnwor­thy to speake vnto [Page 249] thee; but thy bountie hath made mee bold; I will speake there­fore againe vnto my Lorde, although I bee but dust and ashes: I will speake againe vnto him, who hath not onelye licensed, but prouo­ked, but commaun­ded vs that we should aske.

O Lord our God, O gracious, O all­mightie God, is it [Page 250] not better that thou shouldest freelye giue mee that which I haue not deserued, then that I shoulde vnthankefullye not yeelde to thee, that which is thy due? the one woulde bee a propertie of thy mercie, the other an effect of my inius­tice. Giue therefore vnto mee thy grace, that I may returne vnto thee thy due; [Page 251] bestow vpon mee thy mercies, that I may commit against thee noe iniustice; bee liberall vnto me, that I may not seeme iniurious to thee, giue (O Lorde,) giue vnto my soule a­boundance of thy loue, which I doe iustlye desire, that I may not be vnthank­full vnto thee, which thou mayest iustlye punish.

[Page 252] Deare Christ, I doe feele in my heart a weake warmnesse of thy loue, but my prayer is, that the coales were through­ly kindled with de­sire, and blowne with delight into a full flame. O sacred fire, how comfortablye doest thou burne? O heauenlye lighte, how sweetlye doest thou shine? how de­sirous are they more [Page 253] and more to burne whom thou dost en­flame? how are they delighted whome thou doest enlight­ten?

Alasse, how late haue I loued thee, O beautie most excee­dinglye both aunci­ent and fresh, and yet, alasse, how little do I loue thee? wher­fore I beeseech thee, O Lorde, by thy pre­cious woundes, from [Page 254] which gushed out the streames of our redemption, wound my sinnefull soule with the dart of thy loue, strike Lorde, strike with the two edged sworde which procedeth out of thy mouth, strike deepe into my harde harte, pierce my sencelesse soule, parte all the in­ner partes of my spi­rit, that I may crie out, (but not com­plaine) [Page 255] how I am wounded with thy loue.

O sweete Christ O good Iesu, euen for thine intercession sake, and for thy me­rites sake I beeseech thee, giue me thy ho­ly and chast loue, and then shall I bee fullye furnished with all heauenly ver [...]ues. Lorde, thou diddest loue vs when wee were thine enemies, [Page 256] and wilt thou denie vs now to loue thee againe? thou hast commaunded vs with our whole harte to loue thee; and wilt thou not graunt vs abilitie to obey.

Heare O my God, heare O light of mine eies, encrease my de­sire, and grant my re­quest; stop not thime eares against mee, beecause of my sinnes. Indue my [Page 257] soule with thy loue, subdue my flesh with thy feare, that I may allwaies thinke of thee ioyntlye both with tremblinge and trust. Settle the loue of thee in mee, and the care of mee in thee: let my prayer come vnto thee, and thy mercie come vn­to mee; let the ioy of thy happinesse re­maine with mee, and the cōpassion of my [Page 258] miseries remaine with thee. Let my hearte loue thee, let my flesh feare thee, let my whole sub­stance in this worlde ioie whollye in thee, that it may enioye thee wholye in the worlde to come. Amen.

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