Christian meditati­ons vpon eight Psalmes of the Prophet Dauid. Made and newly set forth by Theodore Beza.

Translated out of Frenche, for the common benefite, into the vulgare tongue by I. S.

¶ Imprinted at London in Bacon house, by Christopher Barker, printer to the Queenes most excel­lent Maiestie.

To euery Christian Reader, and namely to the Lady Anne Ba­con, now wife to Sir Nicolas Bacon Knight.

I Trust (Madame) the alone names of Da­uid and Beza, which is the honourable ti­tle of this litle booke, will not alone pro­cure it a reuerende welcome into your hands, but withall a­gainst all men will both warrant and de­fend the translators price to be woorth his labour, as that which will recompence his fewe spent houres, with the much profite and pleasure of many. For, besides the cō ­mon helpe it brings to all, for more cleare understanding and expounding those eight psalmes: it is singularly medicinable to wounded and cast downe consciences, who after their labor some combate with sinne, [...]nd profitable humiliation there through, nay againe by these sweete Meditations [...]rise with ioy, finding happie issue of their [Page]troubles. And this, as it was my simple iudgement vpon first reading, euen so is it my comfortable experience vpon reading and reading againe. Which was one thing that made me, among others, to thinke of you, good Madame, as to whose tender conscience it might be welcomly applyed. But what neede that holy Prophet, and this reuerend Pastor, this my worde of poore credite? It is as if the least Pleiade would affoord some poore helpe of light to Sunne and Moone: I must learne there­fore to come downe, and know mine owne place, acknowledging my selfe to borrowe or begge both light and credite from them, if I may be vouchsafed but the fauour of a stammering trucheman to so worthy an Hebrew, and to such a Frenchman. Vpon both whose warrantise (as it were) a dou­ble voucher, I wholy relye and rest secure for sufficient approofe of the matter of my translation. Nowe a worde or two for this dedication, wherein my choise was not so much to content my selfe, but to goe rather as neere as possible to the continu­ance of the Authours own verie meaning. He first purposed it to a Ladie, preuented by her death, gaue it yet to a Ladie, & that to a Ladie Anne Bacon, wife to that Lorde late of great honour, & for euer of Christian fame, Sir Nicholas Bacon Knight, father to Sir Nicholas Bacon Knight, husband to this Ladie Anne Bacon. Being therfore by this meanes still continued in the selfe same [...]ne of the Ladie Anne Bacon, wife also to [Page]Sir Nicholas Bacon, and that in the same house, so néere, as from fathers wife to sonnes wife: I halfe presume vpon, and yet humbly crane leaue of that learned La­die Anne Bacon, to whom the Authour did first appropriate it, that as shee was once one with the father, and by him hath déere pledges: So shée will not thinke this any impropriation, but in her good affection to all that house, suffer them to receiue by her the honour of some particular interest with her in so sweete a labour of the Au­thour: who in his Epistle makes most ho­nourable memorie of her husbande, and giues testimonie of good reputation to her sonne. Although therefore, I confesse my selfe of verie duty to loue al that good Bro­therhoode, first for their loue to the trueth, with other agreeable vertues of wisedome and true honestie, and then for that loue which it pleaseth euery one of thē (I wote not howe without my merit) kindly to beare me: yet in giuing this to their eldest brothers wife, and so to them all, I neither giue them nor pay them ought, but yéeld them their owne, and which I might not haue giuen to any other, vnlesse beyond the right of a translator, I would haue taken vpon me to translate that into a strange familie, which seemes as a very heirloome properly belonging to Bacon house.

So wishing you (good Madame) most happie going forward in a simple hearted profession of Gods Eospell to the good en­sample of your owne houshold, and a shi­ning [Page]light among your neighbours: I the least of them, beseech the Lorde Iesus to blesse you and Sir Nicholas, together with his mease of religious brethren, so as growing in faith and loue, they may be a fast holding bundle of brethren in Christ, who keepe you all euer his, and one anothers. From Th. 31. May. 1582.

Yours verie faithfull to command, I. S. S.

To my lady, the lady Anne Bacon, widowe of the deceased Syr Nicolas Bacon Knight, Lord Keeper of the great seale of England.

MAdame, among other bookes of holy scripture, that of the Psalmes wel deserueth to bee singularly recom­mended to vs. It is nowe some time, since hauing bestowed some payne in translating and expounding the same, I gaue my selfe also to take some more libertie of dealing with them by way of meditating vpon that subiect, choosing (as it were for an as­saye) the seuen Psalmes called some time Penitential, because they were appointed to such as after hauing sa­tisfied open and canonical penaunce, were reunited to the body of the Church: wholy doing it for my par­ticular [Page]instruction and consolation. After this, beeing required by a great & vertuous princesse, to frame for her some forme of prayers: I tooke them afresh into my hands, polishing them ouer, and that with hope of pu­blishing them: which being letted by the sodayne decease of that Lady, I reserued them among my papers as things of no great price: where they had lyen still, had not bene the com­ming of master Anthony Bacon your sonne, into these partes: whom when I sawe to take pleasure in this litle piece of woorke, and againe know­ing by the latin letters wherewith it hath liked you to honour me, the great and singular, yea extraordinarie gra­ces wherwith God hath indewed you, and whereof I acknowledge a very paterne in your said sonne: I perswa­ded my selfe that it should not be dis­pleasing [Page]to you, if this small vo­lume carying your name vpon the browe, were offered to you, in testimo­nie of the honour and reuerence I beare to the vertue of you and yours: hoping withall that this estate of widowehode whereunto it hath plea­sed God to call you by decease of that right vertuous and of right renow­med Lord, my Lord Nicolas Bacon your husband, & most worthy Keeper of the seale of England, you might perhaps therein finde some consola­tion, after the reading of those great and holy doctors Greeke and Latine so familiar to you, for your better con­firming in the meditation of spiritual things, and in this constancie and Christian patience wherewith God hath so beautified you, that in you is verily acknowledged that Christi­anly high minded courage which I [Page]sawe in these partes shining in the de­ceased, of very happy memorie, Syr Anthony Cooke Knight, during those great calamities publique to the realme, and particular to him & his whole familie. See the ground of my purpose, which if it may please you to take in good part, which I very humbly craue, it may be perhaps an occasion of proceeding in this busines, our Lord ayding, whom I beseeche, Madame, that increasing in you his greatest graces, he will preserue you and all your verie noble familie, long in all holy and perfect prosperitie. From Geneua this first of Nouem­ber. Anno. 1581.

Yours very humble and ser­uiceable to commaunde, Theodore Besze.

¶A Meditation vpon the first Psalme of Dauid.

1 Blessed is the man yt doeth not walke in ye counsayle of the wic­ked, ALas poore wretch & most caytife creature, which art neuer more reasonles then when thine own blinde rea­son carieth thee, and when thine owne too too vnruly will doeth driue thee. What way wilt thou chuse in this maze of manifolde pathes, wherein thou wert borne, and through which thou hast wan­dered vagabondlike till nowe? Thy first path of infancie, what better name can I giue it then brutish simplicitie, which fooles call In­nocencie, a way full of foule vn­cleannes, and an heape of miseryes, amōg which this is one of the grea­test, [Page]that the infant can neither fore­see miseries comming, nor through­ly conceiue them beeing present. From this path whither entredst thou oh vnhappy? Ahlas, into that wilde desert of youth, a desert I say, well tracked and throughly beaten euery way, in which neuerthelesse there was neyther right waye nor path, and yet notably haunted with most mischieuous witches. There found I vanity that old sorceresse, & she would needes be my guide, offe­ring me at our first acquaintance a thousand cōtentations in apparāce, but more vayne thē winde in effect. There did those two wilde beasts, Ouerweening & Ambition, make themselues so tame & familiar with me, as I was by & by at their becke, so farre forth as to followe them in­to a sea that had neither bottom nor [Page]shoare, where they did their best to make me dwell still remedilesse, & all (quoth they) to bring me to the true felicitie: in steade whereof I was betrayed into the haudes of pleasure, that nice & decked strum­pet, and withall the most stinking and daungerous that euer was in the world, inticing and interteining infinite wayes all them which doe but looke at her, and which more is, she bewitcheth thē in such sort with her cuppe, that sodainely their con­science becommeth lulled a sleepe, all iudgement lost, yea very sense it selfe astonished, and then loue wee our woe, & loathe our weale, what is most foule, seemes most fayre, what is most hurtfull, seemes most profitable, and that which is most sowre, seemes most sweete, yea of­tentimes it bringeth to foule death [Page]and shame, and a thousand woes & weale away: and this is all the fe­licitie to be hoped for. Oh most hap­py man which balkest this streight, and singlest thy self farre from such & so vnhappy feloweship. But woe is me,nor stande in the way of sinners, I haue done yet worse then al this, for, going foorth of the wilder­nes, I am entred into an other coū ­trey peopled with farre worse folke then the former: for hitherto I haue rather bene deceiued then a decei­uer, and that I erred, proceeded not so much of malice, as of ignorance. But from thencefoorth in steade of hauing learned by mine own harme I nowe gaue my selfe ouer to doe much worse, applying my selfe to couetousnes, enuie, deceit, and at once, to euery kinde of vice, per­swading my selfe that this was the true and neerest way to happinesse. [Page]And when sometimes my consciēce reproued me, I sought by al meanes to make my self beleeue yt vice was vertue, couetousnes was nothing but good husbandrie to prouide for my selfe and my meany, enuie was nothing with me, but a desire to haue of things about me as other mē had, al deceit was faire cunning & good skil: at a word, I concluded that being in this world, I must do after the facions of other men, vnto whose example I framed my selfe throughout. But poore wanderer, what hast thou founde in the ende of this so ill a way? verily all the con­trary to thy weening. Nowe then howe blessed is that person which busieth not himselfe to folow such a way of folke giuen vp to all vice, bringing toyle to our body, tormēt to our conscience, and final destruc­tion [Page]both of body and soule! For whither doth such a custome of ill doing thrust vs by litle & litle?Nor sit in the seate of the scorne­full. Cer­tainly euen to this point, that wee lose all feeling of God, all remorse of conscience, of ignorant wee be­come wicked, of wicked we become mischieuous to the vttermost, and finally we become scorners of God and of euery good thing. Oh most great God, is it possible that dust & ashes being now become so infirme a creature, so changeable, so very nothing worth, yea worse then nought, should so doate in presump­tion, as not only not to quake at the least aduertisement of his own con­science, being awakened of it self or by any the least meane in the world: but also to set him selfe against thee, to shut his eare against the voyce of thy threatnings, to pluck out his [Page]owne eyes, that he might not per­ceiue thy horrible iudgements, to harden his heart against thine al­mightie puissaunce? Oh most good God, & patience it selfe, thou louer of men, in so much as thou diddest not spare for their sake thine onely sonne equall to thee, yea one selfe God with thee, can it come to passe, that this creature, despising thy goodnes in calling him when hee fleeth, thy patience in bearing with him when he rebelleth, thy liberali­tie in making him a partner of thy so great and incomprehensible blisse euerlasting, when he gaue himselfe to most vaine vanitie, should so far forget himself, as to reiect thy good­nes, to make a mocke at thy patiēce, to trample vnder his feete such a treasure? Yea Lorde, alack, all this is but too true: and which is more, [Page]those which bee guyltie of these crimes, be such as thou hast aduan­ced highest. But O my God, retire my feete from those crooked wayes wherein I haue gone too farre al­ready: and since thou hast put in me the desire of blessednesse, shewe me also the ready addresse thereunto, giue mee a will to follow it, and strength to pursue it, euen till I may attaine it to thine honour and glorie.

2 But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate day and night.2 Now then poore creature, ab­used by thy selfe, and mislead by o­thers, hearken at the last what the Lord will teach thee, Blessed is that man which taketh pleasure in the Lordes law, and which meditateth thereof dayly and nightly: what say I, Thy law Lord? why, that is it which astonisheth me, which con­demneth me, which killeth me, as [Page]wherein there is neuer a comman­dement which carieth not my death sentence withall. For, howe many creatures haue I set in thy place? oh golde and siluer, thou hast occu­pied a great part of my heart and of mine hope: ye honours and world­ly pleasures, haue bene the god which I haue adored: oh abused heart, thou hast bene the altar wher­on haue bene set vp so many idoles as thou hast passionate affections, whereunto thou hast thralled thy selfe. The whole course of my in­ordinate life hath bene a continuall dishonour of thy precious name. Howe many times haue I sworne vntruly and bene disloyall? Who can reckon the leasings which make me faultie euen before my neigh­bours? When haue I ceased from mine owne works to do thine? Thy [Page]worde (Lord) what deafe eare haue I giuen it, and howe haue I practi­sed it? Holy Baptisme wherewith thou hast vouchsafed to honour me, hath it not bene a thousand times by me dishonoured, polluted, and villa­nously abused? O how vnworthily haue I presented my selfe to thy ho­ly boord! How oft haue I lyed vnto thee! And can I boast of any obe­dience towardes them where I owe it, since I haue so litle feared to dis­obey thee? If in thy sight, O iust Iudge, hee bee a murtherer which sayth to his brother Racha, if he bee an adulterer which castes a looke at his brothers wife with a lusting eye, then howe can I cxempt my selfe from either of these crimes? And yet neuerthelesse according to thy most iust lawe, there is no atone­ment for blood among men: howe [Page]then shall I compound for so many murders towardes thee, O thou iudge of the verie thoughts? If lust alone without any further act doe make me an adulterer, and if no ad­ulterer haue any part in the king­dome of heauen, poore creature that thou art, what shall become of thee? If it be not onely simple thieuerie, but, which more is, flat sacriledge, to withholde goods consecrated to thy glorie, (according as thou hast committed them vnto vs from a­boue to be thy stewards of them) how may I bee dispensed withall, hauing shut mine eares least I should heare the poore, closed mine eyes that I might not see him, loc­ked vp my bowels that they might not be touched with compassion to­wards so many my poore brethren? What say I, my brethren? Nay ra­ther [Page]towards thee thy self, O Lord, hungring, thirsting, and being na­ked in their person. Thee I say, oh thou great and eternall sonne of God, which hast made thy selfe of no reputation, that thou mightest aduaunce man so high with thee, which vouchsafedst to be come poore to the end to enrich him with eter­nall treasures, which didst subiect thy selfe to all our weaknesses, that thou mightest make vs inuincible: at once, (oh depth of bountie) thou disdaynedst not to hang naked on the crosse, & to enter into the house of death, to the end to cloth me a­gaine with glorie, and to bring mee into the true paradise of euerlasting life. To be short, who is it but man that holdeth thy truth in vnrighte­ousnes, that is a lier, and a falsifier, and that is borne with lust: And [Page]wouldest thou, Lord, that I should search life in thy lawe, which is the verie soliciter, witnesse, iudge, and executioner of the deadly sentence agaynst me? All this notwithstan­ding (oh Lord) there will I seeke life, since that so is thine ordinance, and there shall I find it, since thou hast spoken it. Thy law is good be­cause it is giuen by him that is only good: it is holy, for it is made by the holie of holies. From that which is good cannot proceede that which is ill: death commeth not properly by the lawe, but through sinne: sinne commeth of the sinner, and not from thee, who doest hate and forbid that which is naught. If a sicke man would freat himself to death against the Physitiō, whose were the fault? The lawe then iudgeth me because it findes me guiltie: O good Lord, [Page]cleare mee againe, and make mee guiltles by thy law of faith, that the lawe of workes (which amaseth me, condemneth me, & slaieth me in my self) may assure me, absolue me, and quickē me by him that hath fulfilled it for me, & became euen curse it self for my sake: For, Lorde, it is thou which strikest and curest, which lea­dest to graue & bringest back again: Graūt me through him the spirit of sanctification, which may fit mee vnto thy seruice, create in me the will and the power to doe, pearce mine eares that in hearing I may heare, giue me eyes to see, graūt me feete to walke in thy wayes: Then Lord, being wholy changed, I shall not heare thy worde for fa­cions sake, but I shall therein take all my pleasure, I shall eate I say with a good appetite of this quic­kening [Page]foode, for I shall finde a good smacke in it: I shal digest it, and neuer thinke my selfe satisfied with it: Day and night I shall not cease to applie all mine vnderstan­ding thereunto, that more and more I may be nourished and susteyned in the full enioying of that true, ab­solute, and eternall felicitie.

For he shalbe like a trée plā ­ted by the riuers of waters, that will bring forth her fruit in due season: 3 In meane while, O Lorde my God, shall I be idle, and finde leysure to do nothing, but onely to occupie my thoughts in contem­plation? Not so: for though he be nothing lesse then idle which exer­ciseth that part of him selfe recey­ued from thee, to knowe thee and consider thee in thy word and in thy workes, and that no mans actions can be conducted but by the good discourse and resolution of the spi­rit: yet forasmuch as man was crea­ted [Page]at the beginning, and since that time againe made a newe creature by thee the second time, to be a sin­gular instrument in thine hande, it is necessarie that his soule beyng taught by thee, shoulde imploye it selfe, and that instrument which thou hast giuen it, in such actions as are agreeable to thy will, and in that vocation, for which thou hast created it. If then the idle body be guyltie in thy sight, as by good right the workman may finde fault with that toole, which wil not abide to be handled, yea he may marre it and breake it: what shalbe thought of that toole, that wil occupy it selfe as it listeth, and when the workman would vse it, it will not be stirred? and when you woulde handle it of one side, it will turne it selfe quite awke? Be this farre from mee my [Page]God, since thou hast facioned and framed mee. For rather will I be not an instrument of a dead matter, but I shall haue a naturall & liuely strength in me,Whose leafe shall not fade: which I finde alrea­dy to come vpon me. To be short, I shalbe as a faire fruite bearing tree, planted by thine hand in thy house, grafted vpon that right and kindly O liue, shooting vp to heauenward, my fresh greene braunches garni­shed with fruites proceeding from thy grace,So what soeuer he shall do, shal pros­per. which will alway water mee at the roote, and will preserue from frostes, heates, windes and o­ther tempestes, so as from them I shall rather gather fresh forces to yeelde plenteous fruite: where­as finners shall bee drye at the roote.The wic­ked are not so, but as the chaffe, which the winde dri­ueth away And if they make any gay shewe for a while, yet in the tur­ning of an hande they come downe [Page]either by themselues, or striken by thy furie, and shalbe rooted out, so as no man shal perceiue their place, neither shal they be good for ought, but to bee burned and brought to nought: And yet do I some wrong to compare thē to trees, rather are they thornes, bryers and brambles, which thou doest fagot vp together in their time, to be thrust in the fire: yea rather yet shall they be as dust & small chaffe, which shall go into the winde, when thou shalt fanne thy floore, and shalt locke vp the good grayne in thy garners.

Therfore the wicked shall not standin the iudgemēt, nor sinners in the as­semblie of the righte­ous. 5 And albeit this difference be not manifest through the cōfusions of this worlde, but contrariwise the wicked men seeme surest planted, hyest promoted, and most florishing, yet shal not this vayne shewe be du­rable, but the true iudgement of [Page]their estate shall shewe it selfe, so soone as thy iustice appeareth to set in order all that is disordered: and it shall then he clearely discouered in deed what they are, when that great day shall come, so dreadfull to the wicked, which shall not know whi­ther to turne them, and so longed for by thy poore seruants, to whom being gathered together from all coastes, thou shalt doe iustice and reason of so many wrongs and vio­lences receiued, wiping away their teares, and graunting them that felicitie which they so much desire.

For the Lord kno­weth the way of the righteous, & the way of the wic­ked shall perish▪ 6 Nowe then my soule, sith the francke bountie of thy God hath drawen thee forth of these straying paths of destruction, to the ende to leade thee in the true and only way of blessednesse: take good heede not to forsake it, but followe on thy [Page]course liuely, suffer not thy selfe to be mislead by any inticements, nor to be dismayed by any threatnings, holding fast alwayes this conclusi­on in thine heart, as well agaynst flatteries as against terrifyings, to wit, that howsoeuer the matter fall out, since that God is God & Iudge of the world, they which go streight cannot misse to be blessed, standing alwayes in the good grace and fa­uour of God: and the wicked contrariwise must needes perish.

¶ The sixth Psalme me­ditated.

O Lorde rebuke me not in thine an­ger, neither chastise me in thy wrath. AH, woe is me more then miserable wretche, assay­led, pressed, outraged on all sides, wounded mor­tally by my conscience, pearced through and through by the touch of infinite trespasses, and nowe at brincke of that deepe dungeon of despayre, in my body euerwhelmed with euils, plunged in sorrowes, in which torment nothing more can be founde that may adde to my tormēt: what shall I doe, what shall I saye, whither shall I goe? what may I finde in my selfe but the subiect of suffering, and the cause of that I suffer, and who shall succour mee from els where? If I looke into heauen, I see there my iudge: The [Page]sunne, that great eye of the worlde, which hath seene me so often to of­fend his maker and mine, doth sum­mon me, and seemes to giue light to the worlde for none other pur­pose but to behold me whilest I en­dure these my merited paynes. The night which seemes to couer all things els with her darkenes, alas, what doth she witnesse against me? Forsooth me seemes, she hath dou­bled her darkenes in a loathsome detestation of that which in glimpse of her accustomed obscuritie shee hath bene forced to perceiue in me: It yrketh the earth to beare so vn­happie a creature, and already shee openeth yt great throat of her gulfe to swallow me in, and to redemaūd my selfe to her selfe, as hauing too much abused that earthly matter which shee ministred to my maker [Page]when he facioned me. All that no­rishment which I receiue frō other creatures, is giuen me onely to en­tertaine me in this extreme tormēt. Death it selfe recules fro mee, lest she might giue at ye least some sense­lesnes of dolor to this miserable bo­dy, by dispatching it at once out of ye way. As for mē, they be either mine enemies, or els such friends as haue no might to giue me remedie: whi­ther shal I go thē? what shal I say? what shall I doe? I will euen goe streight to thee, O eternall: For what good shal it do me to runne a­way from him that is euery where? Who cā hide me from before him, which seeth euen that that is not? & what creature, though it could, yet durst vndertake my quarrel wt thee? & if it should vndertake, what would ensue, but their ruine and mine? [Page]And my disease being incurable to all others saue to thee, to whome should I haue recourse but to thee? Nowe then, eternall God, more great then greatnes it selft, behold him that is lesse then nothing, vn­lesse the greatest ill bee something. O creator of man, beholde thy crea­ture quite disfigured: O louer of man, beholde him that hath conspi­red with thine enemie against thee: O perfectly good, behold him that is conceiued and borne in vice: be­holde the drye wood to the consu­ming fireward, and shall it yet be so hardy as to speake? His miserie constrayneth him to seeke remedie: thy goodnes declared in thy promi­ses, and verified by so many experi­ences, doeth open his mouth to cry before thee, Reproue me not in thy wrath, correct me not in thine an­ger. [Page]O God, which hast sayde, that the waye not to bee iudged, is to iudge our selfe, beholde this vnhap­pie man, that acknowledgeth before thee & thine Angels, before beauen & earth, that my least fault of a thou­sande is worthie of thy wrath so dreadfull, that none can beare it, be­cause there is none thy match.

2 Haue mercy vpō me, O lord, for I am weake: O Lord heale me, for my bones are vexed. 2 And what emboldeneth mee then after this sort: Thy goodnesse, thy pitie, thy compassion, which is so much the greater as it stretcheth it selfe vpon the vnworthie, & there most aboundeth, where there is most sinne. O Lorde, suffer mee, though dust and ashes, to bee, not bold in my selfe, but assured in thee. O euerliuing God, I haue learned in thine house by thee, and in my selfe by thy grace, how thou hast an anger of a most gentle father, and a [Page]wrath of a most seuere Iudge. I am worthte of this, but I be seeche thee turne it from me, for it destroyeth: I refuse not the other, because it buyldeth vp: for thou chastisest whome thou louest. Nowe then Lorde, smite, but keepe in the vio­lence of the blowe. And to speake in a worde, O eternall God, haue pitie on me. For who hath neede of grace, but the guyltie one? Who beggeth comfort, but the afflicted: or physicke, but the sicke?

3 My soule is also sore troubled: but Lord how long wilt thou delay: 3 And againe, who can raise the poore man ouerwhelmed vnder the burden of sinne, beaten downe flat vnder thy puissant hande, crushed bones and all, cast away in his own conscience, but thou, O great God, who by thine onely word giuest be­ing to all that is: Confirme then that which remaynes of thy nature [Page]and being in me, or rather worke a newe, that which otherwise goeth away & is vndone. And howe long, O my God, wilt thou suffer mee thus to languish: How long shall I cry without being relieued: Howe long shall I wayte for thy mercie? Suffer, O Lord, that the vehemen­cie of dolour may vse this laguage, submitting it selfe yet wholly to thine onely good and thrise good pleasure.

4 Returne, O Lord: de­liuer my soule: saue me for thy mercies sake. 4 O eternall God, I say, turne againe to mee that countenance, which with one looke can reuiue the dead: Lay forth that great com­passion to heale my saynting soule: for vpon thine onely grace it is that I ground my request.

5 For in death there is no remē ­brance of thee: in the graue who shall praise thee? 5 O God, thou knowest what a desire I haue to be an instrument of thy glory, and to employ what­soeuer [Page]it may please thee to make mee to publish thy prayses. Alas, Lord, my sinnes thus sending me to death, shall they be able to hinder this my purpose that comes of thee? For, being dead and lying in the dust, loe all my purpose broken off, my memory shall forthwith bee taken quite away, my tongue shall speake no more of thee, my mouth shal cease to haue any being: To be short, this poore corps being for­done, wherein shall it serue either thee, or my neighbours? Moreouer Lorde, if I do not onely dye, accor­ding as is thine ordinance for all men to dye once, but also that I dye as one smitten in thine ire, Oh my God, my God, howe can I remem­ber thee in that last necessitie? How can I call vpon thee at my greatest neede? To speake at once, what shal [Page]become of me wofull creature, go­ing to a Iudge that condemneth mee, yea euen already executeth his sentence vpon mee? Oh God, pre­serue mee from this woe of woes, and giuing me againe for this time life to this poore body, assure my poore soule by witnessing vnto it, that thine anger is ceassed, to the ende that death when it shall come, be not a messenger of terror, but ra­ther may bring tydings of felicitie forthwith to be enioyed.

6 I fayn­ted in my mouruing: 6 Alas Lorde, as thou hast now had an eye, and straightly marked our sinnes, which thou doest nowe make me throughly to feele: so con­sider this poore creature now chan­ged, condemning that which hee hath too long approoued, yea iud­ging himselfe, which is the very meane not to be iudged of thee: for [Page]so it pleaseth thee, sith thou hast testified it both by thy word and by effect. I haue long slept in so many vnhappie pleasures,I cause my bed euery night to swimme, & water my couch with my teares. nowe can I sleepe no more by reason of sighing. O ye nightes, heretofore witnesses of a thousand thoughtes wickedly imagined, and of the vnhappy se­quele of those thoughts, be ye now witnesses of my waylings. And thou my bed, a bed earewhile of rest very ill employed, be thou through­ly moystened nowe, and swimme thou with my teares.

7 Mine eye is dunined for despite, & sunke in because of all mine e­nemies. 7 Oh thou sunne, whose light I haue heretofore so much offen­ded, (and howe could I feare to of­fend thee, being so desperatly bolde as to despise thy maker and mine, looking into the depth of heartes, and to assay to put out his light in me?) O thou Sunne, I say, whose [Page]brightnes I am vnworthie to be­holde: mine eyes being iustly puni­shed, can no more see thee, being soaked out and drawen drye by the teares that they haue shead: they be, I saye, quite worne with yrke­somnes and heauines, whereof they bene witnesses that vexe mee. But what, shall I perish then? Is there no more hope? Am I quite without recouery? No, no, my God: For whence comes this bewayling of my sinnes? This hatred of my self? This confidence to call vpon thee? this desire to amend? From whēce springs it, that I speake yet, and can call thee my God? Certainely it is thy grace: For whence comes any good, but fro thee? O mightie God, howe be thy wayes incompre­hensible! May it be thine yre which should quiet me, or mine heauinesse [Page]that might cheare mee? Or can my death bee the occasion of my life? No, no, my God, this benefite pro­ceedes no whitte of any worke of mine, but Lord, in working againe him that as much as in him laye, hath vndone himselfe, thou shewest thy selfe to be the same that madest all things of nothing, and canst pul light out of darkenesse. Grance then commeth from thee vnto mee, to driue my selfe out of my selfe, that so againe I may finde my selfe and all my weale in thee.

8 Away from me al ye workers of iniquity: for ye Lorde hath heard the voyce of my wee­ping. 8 You then mine enemies, which weened to haue cast mee flatte and quite to the grounde, shall you dare now to shewe your faces any more? Thou malicious Sathan, the first author of all ill, what gaynest thou to haue throwen me lowe, vnlesse it be that thereby my victorie against [Page]thee is more notable? For, thou see­est, maugre thy malice, that God will triumphe vpon thee by my fee­blenesse. Oh, and out vpon my selfe the most dangerous enemie to my selfe, yeelde thy selfe to him, against whome the more thou hast resisted, the more neere thou camest to thy destruction. You cursed men, whose trade is to doe ill, and you which haue so persecuted mee, I stand no longer in feare of you.

9 The Lord hath beard my petitiō: the Lorde wil receiue my prayer. 9 For the eternall God, which seemed to haue cast mee off, and to deliuer me into your handes as one vtterly reiected, hath heard my deepe sighes accompanyed with teares:10 Al mine enemies shalbe con­founded & sore vexed: they shalbe turned back, & put to shame suddenly. The euerliuing God hath heard my prayers, the eternall will perseuere to heare my supplica­tions.

10 And consequently all mine [Page]enemies which haue bene so pre­sumptuous, goe their wayes with shame: I see them already quite forlorne, they shalbe fayne to leaue their vngratious enterprise to their reproche, a chaunge so much the more wonderfull, as it commeth to passe suddenly and beyonde all ex­pectation.

The 32. Psalme meditated.

Blessed OH my God, where shall that true felicitie bee found, which vngracious men weene to finde? Cer­tainly man findes it not within him selfe. For who is he that can saye, hee is without sinne in his soule? And where there is sinne, doubt­lesse there is malediction also. And [Page]for the body, what man is so brutish, that can perswade himself, the most soueraigne good shoulde fall into a lumpe subiect to so many euils and miseries within and without, brin­ging it at length also to death? This felicitie then is out of our selues, and we must begge it from otherwhere. And from whēce? To seeke it among beastes were more then beastlike, and consequently much lesse will it be founde in the senselesse creatures. O golde and siluer, so highly valued with men of no value for wit, how cā you make a man happie, sith your best seruice to a man standeth in leauing him, & to passe to another, & that tarying wt him, you bring him nothing but care to keepe you, feare to lose you, and an vnsatiable desire to hoarde you? Thou foode, whose taste holdes [Page]not the space of halfe a foote in all mans body, and cannot be felt, but while it is in loosing, which canst not nourish but with thine owne corruption, which art most commonly the instrument of mala­dies, and finally of death, canst thou bring blisse to a man? You celestiall circles turning about endlesly, is it true that mans happy or vnhappy state hanges vpon your influences? How senselesse were he yt so would thinke, sith you your selues must suffer chāge? And being such as you are, you send vs to ye knowledge of one farre greater, vpon whom you your selues depende. You spirituall creatures so excellent, shal it be you yt shal furnish vs of this goodly feli­citie? You be happie in deede & very puissaunt creatures, & yet but crea­tures, & therefore also vnable to re­paire [Page]ye image of God in me, (with­out which I must remaine vnhap­pie) as to say trueth, it is not your woorke, but for God alone: neither were you created to bestow on me yt which you haue not your selues re­ceiued, but by ye free goodnes of him that is greater then you, & then all things else. And if I find none else­where, neither aboue, nor belowe, yt can giue me in part or in whole, that which I seeke, should I bee so de­uoyd of vnderstanding, as to thinke yt I can giue it to my selfe? Shal I find blessednes in corruption, iustice in vnrighteousnesse, life in death? For what am I Lord in my self but corruption, but vnrighteousnes, but death? Alas then, shal I perish? For out of al doubt, death is ye wages of sinne. But ye case so stands, O God, that no euill is incurable to the Al­mightie. [Page]He which hath drawen all things out from nothing, can he be hindered to make againe his owne work? He that caused light to come out of darknesse, shal not he bring a­gaine frō death to life? Yes certain­ly, otherwise death being ye strōger, might thrust God out of his seate. Nowe then, Lord, my disease being past cure of all creatures, I come to thee, who canst doe all that thou wilt: and who hast shewed yet more excellent testimonie of thy goodwil in sauing man, then thou diddest of thy might in creating him. Thy might surely was witnessed by a meane wel becomming thee, when thou madest all of nothing, framing man to thine image and like­nesse: and this same infinite power appeares clearely in the conserua­tion of all thy creatures. But what [Page]is all this in comparison of that worke, mans Redemption?is hee, whose wic­kednesse is forgiuen, & whose sinne is co­uered. Blessed then is he, not simply whome thou hast created, (for man turned this blessing of creation into an assured curse by ill vsing it but rather is he blessed, whome thou hast ransom­med through such a great goodnes of thine, as euery way excels. For lesse vnworthy of thy gratious boū ­tie is hee, which yet hath no being, then is the sinner: And thou conten­tedst not thy selfe (O great deapth of goodnesse) to restore to sinnefull man that blisse which hee had lost, but thou gauest him a farre better: For hauing created him such a one, as by sweruing from his perfection (as in deede hee did) might fall also into sinne, death, and curse, thou fi­nally makest him such a one by re­demption, as hee can neyther sinne [Page]nor dye, but is blessed for euer. O straunge thing, O great and chiefe master worke of God! Al wretched­nesse comes by sinne, and yet none comes to happines, but hauing pas­sed first and formost by sinne: not that blisse comes out of sinne, but because mercy presupposeth mise­rie, pardon a fault, and quickning a former death. But whence comes this pardon? From thy selfe, O Lorde, and from thy pure bountie.

Blessed is the mā, vnto whō the Lord imputeth not iniqui­tie, 2 And howe? euen by quitting me my transgressions, by couering my sinnes, and by not reckoning vy mine iniquities: yet must thy iudge­ment be satisfied euen wholy and to the vttermost. Here beholde againe a depth of wisedome and goodnes: For howe great is that secret, nowe manifested by effect, where pardo­ning all, thou yet punishest all, and [Page]we hauing payed nothing, yet finde our selues to haue wholy satisfied thee? Iudgement is become mercy to vs: out of malediction thou dre­west blessing, & death hath brought foorth life. All this was thy doing, O God, infinitely great and euen so good: for who also coulde haue done it, but thou? thou hast done it, because it pleased thee, for, who knewe thee, who loued thee, who gaue vnto thee first? That Emma­nuel conceiued by the holie Ghost, hath fully repaired in himselfe this poore nature conceyued in iniqui­tie. This righteous pledge hath ac­complished all righteousnes for vs. The suertic that ought nothing, hath payd for our discharge. Wher­fore then troublest thou thy selfe poore conscience? That corruption wherein thou art, is blotted out in [Page]the holy of holyes, conceyued and borne for thee. The obedience of the acceptable one, with the fulnesse of his obedience, hath filled euen til it ouerflow againe, this want of righ­teousnesse, which thy Creator re­quireth of thee. The suffrings of the iust of al iustes are thine acquit­tance. Beholde thy life and thy feli­citie: there is none elsewhere, there is, I saye, none other Iesus, that one and onely name of saluation. What remaynes then, but that cheerefully without glosse, and vn­faynedly acknowledging thy selfe to be in death, thou receiue this life by a liuely faith, liuely, I say, whose effects may shewe themselues.And in whose spi­rit there is no guyle. For besides that God can not bee decey­ued, hee is no sauiour of deceyuers. The God of trueth hateth all false­hood: and who doth wash himselfe, [Page]to the ende to returne to ye filth? Is pardon giuen that we should sinne more hardily? Doeth light bring vs into darkenesse? And as no fitter ex­ample of all this may bee, then my selfe: euen so will I publish it,3 When I helde my tongue, my bones con­sumed, or when I roared all the day. to the ende that I may serue for a mir­rour and paterne to others. Alas, in what paine was I? Were not all my bones dryed with heauinesse? Was there euer sommer drought more partching, then this heate, which hath vtterly marred mee? Howe oft haue I bene ouerwhel­med with anguish, not able to vtter one worde? How often on the other side,4 For thine hande is heauy vpō me, day & night: and my moy­sture is turned in­to the drought of summer. haue I cryed and howled all the day long?

4 And not without cause, my God, for daye and night I felt the terrible weighing strokes of thine hande, a burden intolerable for any [Page]creature. But howsoeuer I tossed & tormented my selfe, where found I remedy at length? Hearken here­to euery one, and thou my soule for­get it neuer.

5 Then I acknow­ledged my sinne vnto thee, ney­ther hid I mine ini­quitie: for I thought, I wil con­fesse against my self my wickednes vnto the Lord, and thou for­gauest the punishmēt of my sinne. 5 So long as I sought to ex­cuse my selfe, and couer my faultes in all or any part: So long as I went about to counterbalance my faultes with my payne, so long as I spurned against the spurre, my mischiefe grewe still: I haue there­fore learned a farre other waye. I come to thee, O eternall God, my Iudge and my aduerse partie, I haue confessed all, I haue suppres­sed nothing in silence, nor disguised any of mine iniquitie: and accor­ding as I did purpose it in my self, euen so haue I done: condemning my selfe I found absolution, & sum­moning my selfe I was dismissed.

6 Therfore shall euery one, that is godly, make his prayer vn­to thee in a time, whē thou may­est be foūd: surely in the flood of great wa­ters they shall not come neere him. 6 Nowe then, all ye not hautie and high looking ones, but whome God hath vouchsafed grace to taste his goodnesse in afflictions, aboue all in the combats of conscience, searche for this onely and most assu­red remedy. Haue recourse to him which smiteth you: the meane to finde him is prayer. Let not your vnworthines hinder you, but rather let it driue you so much the neerer him. With God he is counted wor­thie, which confesseth himselfe vn­worthie. Yf sinne displease thee be­cause it is sinne, and that thou desi­rest his grace, knowe that already thou art halfe heard: For, true so­rowe to haue offended, desire to come before him, and an affection to cry him mercy, be so many mes­sengers whereby he inuiteth thee first, and so many testimonies that [Page]he wil be found to thee. Come then and enter, but with an heart stric­ken downe, with an head bowed low, and thou shalt feele all thy tor­ment vanish away, all thine angui­shes flee as farre from thee as euer they were nigh thee: that flood of euils which had couered and swal­lowed thee, shall voyde it selfe.

7 Thou art my se­cret place: thou pre­seruest me from trou­ble: thou compassest me about with ioy­full deliue­rance. 7 Shortly, in steade of this mi­serie thou shalt receyue the true peace which the worlde can neither giue, nor take away, and the true repose of conscience, euen the very anchre and earnest peny of that du­rable blessednesse to followe. Cer­tainely my God, this is true, for, I knowe it by experience, and shall learne it more and more, hauing thee for my Protector, giuing mee euery day new arguments to praise thee, by continuall assistance of thy [Page]fauour, O my deliuerer,8 I will instruct thee, and teach thee in the way, that thou shalt goe, & I will guyde thee with mine eye. as agayne on my part thou onely art, and shalt be my refuge and recourse.

8 Learne this lesson hardily of mee, thou, whosoeuer desirest to knowe the right way, and bee con­tent to take mee thy guyde in this behalfe.

9 Be ye not like an horse, or like a mule which vn­derstand not: whose mouthes thou doest binde with bit & bridle least they come neere thee. 9 Beware you take not the bit in your teeth, nor kicke like mule and horse: for so doe beastes voyde of vnderstanding, and thou seest them gayne nothing by so doing, saue that they are bitted so much the more roughly, and spurred more sharpely, till they come to some order:10 Many sorowes shal come to the wic­ked: but he, ye trusteth in ye Lord, mercy shal compasse him. Euen so will it befall him which will not profite by such cha­stisements from God, waxing obsti­nately opinionate in his euil, which shall bring sorowe vpon sorowe: [Page]whereas on the contrary, who so will haue recourse to God, bowing vnder his puissaunt hande, shall bee compassed with his goodnes.

11 Be glad ye righte­ous, and reioyce in the Lord, and be ioy­full all ye, that are vpright in heart. 11 O you louers of righteous­nes, you which by Gods grace giue your selues to vprightnes, vp, cheare vp your selues with mee to honour God eternall, & witnes ye by your sonnets of prayse, that the issue of afflictions, on their behalfe which can make profit by them, is ioy and consolation to the glory of that great God, which chastiseth his owne for their good, and puni­sheth the hard harted with al rigour after their demerits.

A meditation vpon the 38. Psalme.

1 O Lorde, rebuke mee not in thine anger, nei­ther cha­stise me in thy wrath. O Eternal (for to whō shall I addresse my selfe but to thee who art as puissaunt to heale as to smite) giue me leaue to bewray my complaint: not to playne me of thee, who doest nothing but well, and whose ire, I confesse I haue pulled vpon me, for my trespasses: but to beseech thee, that according to thy promises thou wilt not vse against me that iudge­ment which thou reseruest for such as thy fury and most fearefull in­dignation will quite destroy: But rather thy fatherly maner of chasti­sing howe rough and sharpe soeuer it may seeme to this flesh.2 For thine arrowes haue light vpon me, and thine hand lyeth vpon me.

2 And thou wotest well Lord, that I crye not as doe those deli­cate [Page]ones, which make much of a litle, and crye loude for a small griefe: For it is euen deepe to the quicke that the keene heades of thine arrowes shot off at mee, haue pearced: It is in very great earnest, that thy mighty hand is (as it were) setled vpon me.

3 There is nothing sound in my flesh, because of thine an­ger: neither is there rest in my bones be­cause of my sinne. 3 Regard, Lord, this poore bo­dy which hath no whole part: Re­spect these poore grynded bones: for in deede how might they stande, or haue any being before thine angry face? And all, Lorde, neuerthelesse most iustly, since the whole cause thereof is in me who haue so much offended thee:4 For mine iniquities are gone o­uer mine head, & as a weightie burdē they are too hea­uie for me. I confesse and auow that it is so, and loe, the spring of all sorrowes and torments wherein I am sowsed ouer head and eares, & vtterly ouerwhelmed vnder this loade, a loade farre to heauie and al­together [Page]together insupportable, if thou doest not sustayne and staye me.

5 My woundes are putrifi­ed, and cor­rupt be­cause of my foolishnes. 5 Those killing blowes which thou gauest mee, haue bred corrupt matter, such as putrifyeth my poore carkase, which euen smelles of the fruites and hyre of my folye, poore senseles man that I was, when I thus rebelled against thy will.6 I am bowed, and crooked ve­ry sore: I goe mour­ning all the day.

6 But, beholde O my God, I will not stiffen my necke, I bowe both body & heart vnder thy strong hande,7 For my remes are full of bur­ning, and there is no­thing soūd in my flesh. drawing my legges after mee, parched and broyled as I am through heauines and languishing. Alas, my reynes howe they burne, To be short, O my God, what shal I saye?8 I am weakened and sore broken: I roare for the very griefe of mine heart. I am altogether made up into sorrowe, I am brayed as in a morter, I am ground as it were in a myl, so as I can not hold, but cry, or roare rather.

9 Lorde, I powre my whole de­sire before thee, & my sighing is not hid from thee. 9 But O my Lord, (for I know thou allowest mee for thy seruaunt though neuer so miserable) for all this thou art my retraicte, my lon­ging is after thee alone, without searching succour elsewhere.10 Mine heart pan­teth: my strength saileth me, & the light of mine eyes, euen they are not mine owne. My gronings direct thēselues to thee, albeit thorough mightye griefe my seely forlorne heart had with it self a thousand wandering discour­ses, and my force so farre forth fay­led me, as I lost my sight.

11 My lo­uers & my friendes stand aside from my plague, & my kins­men stand a farre off. 11 And yet a greater griefe, when as my wretched plight should rather haue moued the very stones to compassion. They which in for­mer tymes had called them selues my friendes, and whose part I thought it to partake my calami­ties, they stand stone still in stead of running vnto mee: yea my next of kinde most vnkindely with much a [Page]doe vouchsafe to looke at mee, while others,12 They al­so, that seeke after my life, lay snares, and they that goe about to do me euill, talke wicked things and imagine deceit con­tinually. to whose wish I can­not dye soone ynough, lay snares for mee, desiring nothing but my death, not ceasing in meane while to slaunder me, and to assay al meanes of trapping me.

13 All this notwithstanding, thou knowest, Lord, that I haue not skirmished againe with them, ren­dring euil for euil either in deede or worde,13 But I as a deafe man heard not, & as a dumme mā, which openeth not his mouth. but haue passed ouer all this geare as if I had bene deafe not hea­ring a whit of it, neither haue I replyed no more to them then a dumbe man which had neuer vse of tongue: I answered nothing,14 Thus am I as a man, that heareth not and in whose mouth are no re­proofes. but apposed onely silence to al wrongs: not that I had not iust defenses y­nowe, but I had rather referre all to thee, O protector of Innocents, & reuenger of the oppressed: know­ing [Page]full well, that silence and pa­tience please thee woonderfully well.

15 For on thee, O Lord, do I waite: thou wilt heare mee, my Lord, my God. 15 Nowe then, O eternall, God, it is thou alone on whome. I wholy wayte. O Lord, thou art my God, and therefore wilt not, I knowe, leaue mee vnanswered: For,16 For I said, Heare me, least they reioice ouer me: for whē my foote slip­peth, they extol them­selues a­gainst me. (quoth I to my selfe) is it pos­sible for thee to indure that these mischieuous ones which assay to hinder the effect of thy promises, that these vnkinde men which as­sayle thee in setting thus vpon my person, should haue matter to glad them against me?

17 Surely I am rea­dy to halt, and my so­rowe is e­uer before me. 17 Make speede then to me my God, otherwise I goe in danger neuer to bee restored, being ouer­whelmed with dolours, which ac­company me day and night.

18 When I declare my paine, & am sory for my sinne, 18 For my part, I am alwayes ready to acknowledge my trespas­ses, the payne whereof I cary with me, tormented in body, and frighted in spirite.

19 Then mine ene­mies are a­liue and are mightie, & they that hate mee wrongfully are many. 19 Mine enemies quite contra­ry, enemies, I say, without all co­lour of cause, strengthen them­selues, and beare their heads higher and higher, fiercely and brauely a­gainst mee, who, alack, did neuer ought to them but well,20 They also, that rewarde e­uil for good, are mine aduersa­ries, be­cause I fol­lowe good­nesse. and against whome they thus band themselues for none other cause, but for that I doe not as they doe, but rather I loue that which is good, howsoeuer otherwise I be a sinner.

21 And therefore, I eternall God, forsake mee not,21 Forsake mee not, O Lorde: be not thou farre from mee, my God. but keepe thy selfe neere this poore creature, which calleth vpon thee, O Lorde, from whome alone I wayte for [Page]deliuerance,22 Haste thee to helpe mee, O my Lord, my saluation. make speede to ayde me in the extremitie of my necessi­tie. Amen.

A meditation vpon the 51. Psalme.

O God, which hast set before vs in one and selfe same person of Dauid, a very maruaylous exam­ple of sinne and repentance, and of thy compassions: giue mee vnder­standing and good consideration of his waylings, well to apply them to mine owne vse and thy glorie. What is it then, that Dauid sayth, beyng wakened by the voyce of thy Prophet Nathan?

O God, O God? And darest thou name this most sa­cred name, thou mischie­uous mouth of so mischieuous a [Page]man? hauing polluted thy self with so many adulterous kisses, foule mouth, vndertakest thou to name it thou enemy of al vncleannes? Thou trayterous tongue agaynst thy faithfull seruant Vriah, canst thou pronounce this word, GOD, who is most true? Yee handes embrued with many murders, presume you so farre as to followe that bolde tongue, heauing vp your selues to­warde him, whome you haue so shamefully profaned? Thou heart, guiltie of the whole lawe broken at one blowe, art thou so hardie as to addresse thee to him, who hath alrea­dy iudged thee? O king, so many wayes periured against him, that of a poore shepheardly boye, promo­ted thee aboue the throne of all this worldes monarches: Thou hypo­crite towardes him, who hath per­formed [Page]formed thee infinitely more then e­uer hee promised thee: wretched man, which hast trampled vnder feete the couenant of eternall life, to make an adulteresse of a chaste wife: vnhappie man, who hast layd that most pretious name open to the blasphemies of infidell nations: O thou ingrate, which hast rendred to thy loyall seruant death for his wages: O thou vnworthy one, that, where thou owedst to thy people all iustice, hast shewed them the way to all mischiefe: liuest thou yet, speakest thou yet? darest thou call vpon thy God yet? Yea, my God, so great is thy patience, that it giues me heart againe, not to name thee by waye of complaynt against mine enemies, as in some other Psalmes I haue done: but euen my selfe to bee mine owne accuser [Page]and iudge against my selfe. In summe, what can he, or what wil he saye, who was once thy deare Da­uid by thy more then most liberall bountie, but nowe is nothing like Dauid, through his owne more then most detestable ingratitude? In summe, I say, he sayeth,1 Haue mercy vpō me, O God, ac­cording to thy louing kindnesse: according to the mul­titude of thy com­passions put away mine mi­quities. Haue pitie on me, O God of mercy: and what maner of pitie? True it is, Lorde, that thy mercy is alwayes infinite in it selfe, but such is the multitude of my trespasses, that surely me thinkes one onely mercy woulde not bee ynough for mee: wherefore I beseeche thee, vnfolde here all the store of thy compassi­ons, that I may feele them.

2 Wash me throughly from mine iniquitie, & clense mee from my sinne. 2 Alas, I haue not nowe to treate for the wiping out of some petie blot, or prancke of youth: but my foule filthinesses & pollutions [Page]be so vile, so stinking, so farre can­kered within mee, euen to the very soule of my soule, that, although with one word thou canst al things, yet doe I perswade my selfe, that as I may saye, it is not with once fairely touching that this my blotte wil away, so great is my rebellion, but I must bee rubbed and rubbed againe, washed and rynsed, before I can bee cleansed from so great and festered a pollution.

3 For I knowe mine ini­quities, & my shine is euer be­fore me. 3 I dissemble not, I set no glosse on the matter: I acknowledge mine iniquities, euen such as they are: my wickednesse continually presents it selfe before my poore spirite: me thinkes I doe euen still see with mine eyes that poore wo­man bayning her selfe: mee thinkes I see Dauid troubled in spirit, and while he resisteth his conscience, to [Page]receiue thine enemie and his owne into his bosome, yeelding himselfe his willing captiue: mee thinkes I yet see those, whome I did vse in that businesse, alack, too too obedi­ent seruants were they to so euill a commandement: I see, woe is me, the filed and defiled bedde whereat once I imbraced both sinne and death: I see thee thou disloyall and murderous heart, and thou trayte­rous hand whereby those two mur­derous letters, and that at seuerall times were written, not with ynke, but with the blood of that poore guyltlesse seruant: I see the poore people, for whome thou oughtest to haue layde forth thy life, nowe like a forlorne heape thrust foorth to the enemies sworde: I see thee, O my loyall seruant, ouerthrowen on the grounde, hathing thee in thy blood [Page]shedde in his seruice, that betray­ed thee to death: I heare (as it were) a peale in mine eares of the horrible blasphemies cōming from infidell mouthes, which I my selfe haue opened: I see that gaye mar­riage, vnder vayle whereof I wee­ned to vayle my adulterie, discoue­ring it yet in meane while euen by that very meane before thee, O Lorde, and before men. Ahlas, what can I perceyue in the least of these foule crimes, but thy wrath, thy iudgement,4 Against thee, a­gainst thee onely haue I sinned, & done euil in thy sight, that thou in apest be iust when thou spea­kest, & pure when thou iudgest. death, and the nether­most hell.

4 For what get I hereby, that being the King, men dare arraygne or iudge mee according to the te­nour of the lawe against blasphe­mers, adulterers, and murderers? It is thou, and none other, with whome I haue to doe: for it is thou [Page]properly that I haue offended, be­fore whose eyes and tribunall seate that is come to light, which I so carefully cloaked before men: ney­ther is to bee feared, least I being thrust downe to hell by thee, any man might rightfully saye, Thou hast vnspoken thy promises made to mee, or that thy worde were not assured: for, it is I that haue falsed my faith, and made my selfe most vnworthy of thy grace: yea verily, and for my condemnation, and thy iustification, what neede it come to reckoning vp of those faults?

5 Beholde, I was borne in iniquitie, & in sinne hath my mother conceiued me. 5 From the moment, my God, of this poore creatures conception, euen already had coruption cat­ched holde: from that time, I saye, that my mother hauing conceyued mee, did giue mee liuing heate in her wombe, vice was come within [Page]me, as the roote which sithence hath brought foorth those sowre and ve­nemous fruites,6 Behold, thou louest trueth in ye inward af­fections: therefore hast thou taught me wisedome in ye secrete of mine heart. in steade of that synceritie and puritie which thou requirest not onely outward, but to be resident in the hidden spirite and heart: and yet there was no want in thee, O most good and gentle God, that this vntowardnesse was not corrected, sith thou taughtest me thy wisedome, and that not after a common customarie facion, but learning me apart, and making my spirite capable of thy most rare and exquisite mysteries, such as thou reuealest not to euery one. Nowe then Lorde,7 Purge me with hyssope, & I shalbe cleame: wash me, & I shalbe whiter thē snowe. what is to be done?

7 Behold on the one side a thou­sande maledictions, which I haue notably deserued: on the other part an infinite deapth of thy mercies, whereof thou hast giuen mee sure [Page]pledges in thy lawe sacrifices. For it is not in vayne, nor by mans in­uention, that in solemne sacrifices, blood is sprinckled with hysope. I haue bene wet therewith, O Lord, by chy commaundement, but retur­ning to my foule vncleannesse, I am verely become leprous within: And therefore Lord, take that very hysope, which is the sacrament of the liuely power & force of that sa­crifice so long looked for, and wash me with the true blood of Christ, which shalbe shedde in the ordayned time, for cleansing of all iniquitie. Washe me, sprinckle me, and rubbe me on all sides with this hysope & this blood, the alone very meane to doe away the loathsome and le­prous blotte of sinne: so shall I be­come neate and white as snowe, whereas nowe I am thus vile and [Page]stinking before thee and the world.

8 Make me to heare ioy and gladnesse, that the bones, which thou hast bro­ken, may reioyce. 8 Alacke, you so many delights and heauenly contentments, which were wont to reioyce my consci­ence, causing me to finde rest in the middest of all dolours, where are you nowe? O Lord, restore them to me, making me to heare thy voyce of absolution for my sinnes, com­forting my poore conscience mor­tally wounded, and soundly setting together and knitting my bones, which are broken all to shiuers.

9 Hide thy face from my sinnes, and put away all mine ini­quities. 9 My God, turne away that eye and looke which is so terrible and insupportable, when thou wilt con­sider sinnes, and chiefely my sinnes so great and so many: Rather wipe them away Lorde, let not one of them remayne, so as they may neuer come in accompt before thee.

10 Create in me a cleane heart, O God, and 10 Lord, thou haddest once by thy singular bountie changed mee and renewed me by the great and onely grace of thy spirite, hauing framed mine vnderstanding to know thee, my iudgement to approue thee, my will to loue thee, and to take plea­sure in thy commaundementes so pure & holy: At once, thou haddest made me a newe creature. But into what darkenesse haue I turned this light? I haue marred all, I haue destroyed and ouerturned all, and therefore, O God, beginne againe as it were anewe thy worke: be the creator of this inwarde man nowe the second time,renue a right spirit within me. spreading forth thy force such as may pearce to the bot­tome of me, that thou mayest forme in me (as it were) a newe soule, de­testing all sinne, giuen to whatsoe­uer is good and right.

11 Cast me not away from thy presence, & take not thine holy Spirite from me. 11 I wote well, I am altoge­ther vnworthie that thou shouldest lay any hand againe to me: but, my God, reiect me not, neither depriue mee of all that feeling which thou haddest once giuen me, and whereof thou didest neuer as yet wholy be­reaue me. For I know and beleeue my selfe to bee of the nomber of those whome thou wilt not loose, though I haue deserued to be quite cut off.

12 Restore to me the ioy of thy saluation, & stablish me with thy free Spirit 12 Rather my God, in steade of taking quite from mee all that resi­due which thy goodnesse hath yet left mee, restore mee that againe, whereof my sinnes haue spoyled me, and settle mee once more in the assurance of my saluation, that most vnspeakeable pleasure and ioye which thou bestowest vpon thy children.

13 Then shall I teache thy wapes vn­to the wic­ked, 13 Nowe for so much as thou hast layde on my shoulders this so weightie, and withall so honoura­ble a charge of gouerning thy peo­ple, may it please thee henceforth to impart me of thy strēgth, and those speciall graces necessary to such a calling, wherein is requisite that I haue wisedome, skill, high courage and constancie, and generally eue­ry other vertue, not alone for mine owne vse, but also for the conduct of this folke committed to mee.and sin­ners shalbe conuerred vnto thee. 14 Deliuer me from blood, O god, which art ye God of my sa'­nation, & my tongue shall sing iofyully of thy righte­ousnesse. Then in steade of such lewde exam­ples I haue giuen, I shall not spare to shewe foorth both in deede and worde the right way to others, and shalbe thine instrument to fetch home to thee those that runne riote the furthest out.

14 O God, O God, who onely canst and wilt deliuer out of the [Page]bondes of sinne and death, haue pi­tie on this murderer embrued with innocent blood, and guyltie of a thousand deaths, and vouchsafe this mouth the grace to sing howe true thou art in thy promises.

15 Open thou my lippes, O Lord, & my mouth shal shewe forth thy praise. 15 Oh, that thy mercy, Lorde, woulde open this mouth which my sinnes haue shut vpon me: for what haue sinners to doe to speake of thee? But remooue this stoppe, and then not hauing any other meane to recognise so great a benefite, but such as can adde nothing to thee, who art in thy selfe absolutely per­fect, to wit, the sacrifice of thankes­giuing,16 For thou desi­rest no sa­crifice, though I would giue it: thou de­litest not in burnt of­fring. I shall prayse thee with full mouth, according as thou hast gi­uen me maruailous great occasion.

16 For as to those sacrifices which smoke vpon thine altar, Lord, it is not in them, where thou [Page]wilt haue vs staye: There must be another maner of oblation to ap­pease thine ire, and a price of better value for my ransome, yea these my faultes being not of the nomber of those, for which thou hast ordayned those ordinarie sacrifices. It is thou, Lorde, which must prouide that price in thy good season, wher­unto alone I holde me confidently, offering thee yet in meane while that selfe same thing,17 The sa­crifices of God are a contrite spirit: a cō ­trite and a broken heart, O God, thou wilt not despise. which thou hast giuen mee, and the which I knowe thou of thy grace doest not reiect, but doest rather receiue it in so good part, as without it all out­warde seruice displeaseth thee, to witte, a spirite throughly humbled by sense of sinne, an heart con­trite, brayed, and grounde with apprehension of thy iust iudge­ments.

18 Be sa­uourable vnto Zion for thy good plea­sure: build the walles of Ierusa­lem. 18 What more my God? wilt thou for this indignation which thou hast cōceyued against my mis­deedes, that this worke which I haue begunne by thine ordinance, should remayne vnfinished? Shall thine owne mountaine of Sion, thy holy dwelling Ierusalem bee left thus vnperfect, because Dauid made himselfe vnworthy to laye to his so foule handes? No, Lorde, thy good pleasure can not bee of that minde. This buylding was orday­ned of thee, because thou so woul­dest:19 Then shalt thou accept the sacrifices of righteous­nesse, euen the burnt offring and oblation: then shall they offer talues vpō thine altar. also Lord, thou shalt finishe it, as in trueth it is thy worke, and not of men.

19 Then both I, who haue thus grossely fayled, and my people whome thou hast chastised by ta­king thy Spirite from their king, shall all see the effect of thy mercy, [Page]that is to saye, thy seruice well and rightly set vp, the oblations made as appertayneth, the altars smo­king according to the rule by thee ordayned, euen a most certaine te­stimonie of that fauour which thou shalt haue shewed to thy poore seruant Dauid, and to thy people. Amen.

Beza vpon the A meditation vpon the 102 Psalme.

1 O Lorde, heare my prayer, and let my cry come vnto thee. O Eternal God, it is now high tyme for thee to heare the prayer of thy poore desolate Church, whose distresses sithe they force her not to speake, but to cry with a full voyce, let not her crie vanish in the aire, but come to thee, who art e­uery where to heare such as call to thee.

2 Hide not thy face from mee in the time of my trou­ble: incline thine eares vnto me: when I call, make haste to heare me. 2 The darke day of affliction is come: alas, cast vpon mee thy looke of compassion, that may scat­ter this most thicke darknesse. Par­don, O my God, my rude vnman­nerlinesse, and beare with mee that in this pressing neede I once more pray the bending of thine eare, and thy speede to make mee feele howe [Page]thou hast heard me, answering mee by the experience of thy bountie and mercie.

3 For my dayes are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burnt like an herth. 3 Alas, time was when I was faire & florishing vnder thy fauou­rable gentlenesse, now am I not so, my good dayes are past, as a smo­king vapour: I haue bene mightie and in flower of my strēgth against all aslaultes within and without, a­biding still fast by meanes of thine vnderpropping and stay: nowe my bones are cracked and weare into dust, as if they had bene seared and burned like lime in a kilne.

4 Mine heart is smitten & withereth like grasse, because I forgate to eate my bread. 4 That wonted courage so stoute against Sathan and his complices, is now withered as haye, and dryed like grasse cut down by the mower. I had, alas, so good an appetite and fedde my selfe hungerly with that so nourishing, so sweete, and so [Page]delicate viande wherewith thou di­dest furnish vs from aboue, and I dranke in so great draughtes of that so precious and well relised liquor of thy quickening water: Nowe finde I a dearth of this bread, and the small remaine that I haue ther­of, goeth downe with mee against the stomacke, so low am I brought, and haue lost my taste.

5 For the voyce of any gro­ning my bones do cleaue to my skinne. 5 The ayre was wont to re­sounde from East to West, those sonnets of gladnesse, whereof thou didest minister to mee both the mat­ter and the making. Nowe the hea­uens and the earth doe ring of my lamentable cryes, woe begone that I am lying on the ground,6 I am like a peli­cane of the wildernes: I am like an owle of the deserts. and lan­guishing like her that hath nothing left, but the skinne bounde to the bones.

6 There was no quarter of the [Page]worlde where I was not lodged in palaces most beautifull and prince­ly, which thou haddest so well foun­ded, buylded, and trimmed for mee: in which I tooke pleasure to see thee in thy great beautie, and to be recreated with thy most cleare and cheerefull voyce, (in deede a hea­uenly happinesse:) Nowe nothing is to be seene but ruines, in which hardly can I discrye some appea­rance of that which hath bene: eue­ry where are horrible desertes, hy­deous caues, wherein nothing is heard but the howlings of shricke owles, night rauens, and such like dolefull and vnlucky blacke night birdes.

7 I watch and am as a sparowe alone vpon the house top. 7 And I poore soule, wandring through thickest of this desert, ha­uing no rest day nor night, I dwell all alone, hatching my griefes at a [Page]venture vnder couert of such small retraict as I may light vpon. Alack, I hurt no body, yea I ren­der good for euill:8 Mine e­nemies yet in steade that my desolation shoulde cleaue the heart of the most hardened, and mooue the fellest of them, if not to relieue me, at least not to persecute me further. I see nothing but ene­mies rounde about mee, and what maner enemies: First, that great deuouring Lyon, which hath spoy­led, torne, and swallowed so many of my poore children from the be­ginning of the worlde: Then those Inchanters which by their colou­red wordes and reasons, in very deede vnreasonable, set together by their bibble habble, haue suborned very many of my childrē, yea, some of the best wittes of my companie. Those snares of cōscience, wolues [Page]masking like pastours, paunches belching out sacriledges, deuou­ring, O God, thy people as bread, smallowing vp the poore widowes and orphanes vnder shadowe of prayer. What shall I say, Lord, of them that are yet worse, to witte, these cursed ones, which gnawe mee within my bowels, these here­tiques, murderers, rending in pie­ces the members from the bodie, whereof thou art head? Very soule quellers, coniured enemies against thy trueth, turners vpside downe of thy right wayes, mouthes for the father of lyes, folke without shame or cōscience, rasers vnder the name of buylders: to bee short, the most pernitious enemies that I haue. Alas, this is not all, there is no crime which they laye not to my charge,reuile me dayly, no rage which exerciseth [Page]not it selfe against mee: I am the daughter of peace, and yet charge they me as mother and nource of al hurliburlies that tosse and tomble the world. Patience is my marke, and yet I am accused as a stirrer of all sedition: I keepe a schoole of all trueth, yet am I condemned as a lyar, and the fountaine of leasings: I praye for my very enemies, yet will they needes make me vengea­ble and irreconcilable. O my bles­sed children, whose soules by the crueltie of my desperate enemies haue bene thrust into heauē through all sortes of torments, and of whom the worlde was not worthie, ioyne your testimonies before the eternal God, vnto the complaintes of your poore widowe mother languishing yet in earth. O earth drunken with the blood of mine innocent childrē: [Page]ye waters, whose streames haue bene oft stopped, and their hue chan­ged by the poore murdered bodies: O ayre, which hast receyued so ma­ny of their grones and sighes: yee flames which haue consumed so many martyrs to the trueth: yee smordes, which haue wounded, hewen, and chopt off so many of my members, are ye not sufficient wit­nesses to me, that I complayne not without most iust cause? And yet my God, it is not of thee that I thus playne me: for, if I looke vp­on the faults of my children, I con­fesse, that what rigor soeuer they haue felt, that yet thy mercie sur­mountes thy iudgement: And con­sidering on the other side, that the wicked doe not hate and persecute me but for thy name, and that there­by I am made like vnto my deare [Page]and alone spouse, thy welbeloued Sonne. Oh father, so farre am I from complayning, that contrari­wise this crosse is to me a most cer­taine and pretious testimonie, that thou chastisest mee as a father, and louest mee with the same loue, wherewith thou louest my spouse, with whome being crucified, I am likewise sure to raygne. To bee short, wherein can I deeme my self honourable, but in thy crosse? for, to bee hated of the worlde for thy sake, is a goodly testimonie, that a man is not of the worlde: and to drinke in the cuppe of his Lorde, is one of the greatest honours that the seruant can receiue. But alas, I see and confesse, that what the wicked doe vniustly, thou doest it iustly for the iniquitie of most part of my riotous children, it being a thing [Page]right reasonable, that the bringing into order beginne at thine owne house, and that they which haue least excuse, bee with the first most rigorously chastised. Moreouer, my God, what cause haue I to put on all my wayling weede,Surely I haue eaten ashes as bread, and mingled my drinke wt wéeping, 10 Because of thine in­dignation and thy wrath: for thou hast heaued me vp, and cast mee downe. 11 My dayes are like a sha­dowe that fadeth, and I am wi­thered like, grasse. seeing thy holy name so blasphemed, thine house prophaned, robbed, ruined, and brought into ashes, thy glo­rie giuen into the handes of ene­mies?

9 Loe why I lye on the earth, liuing on the dust in stead of meate, and teares for drinke, through the deepe conceyuing of this most hor­rible indignation, and this so iust displeasure against mee, whome thou hast thus ouerthrowen, from a state wherein thou hadest super­exalted mee, in so much as I goe fading away, and lost as a shadowe [Page]at Sunne fall, and am there as cut downe grasse without force or liuelinesse.

But thou, O Lord, doest remayne for euer, & thy remembrāce from generation to genera­tion. 12 But what? yet am I not out of heart, O mightie and eternall God, when I consider that thou art for euer the same, and that it can not be otherwise, but the memorie of thy renoume must be euer dura­ble. For, this presupposed, albeit thou art not vnderpropped but of thy selfe,Thou wilt arise & haue mer­cy vpon Zion: for ye time to haue mer­cy thereon, for the ap­poynted time is come. and that nothing may bee put too, or taken from thee: Yet, sith it hath liked thee to chose from out of the vnworthiest creature, to wit, man, a certaine number, which is thy Church, there to make thine infinite glory for euer to shine: I conclude with my selfe, that of ne­cessitie (howsoeuer it seemes some­times otherwise) as thou hast bene cast downe in thy Church, nowe [Page]lying on the grounde, so wilt thou rayse againe thy selfe, in vprea­ring her, and all for thy great pitie and compassion sake. In deede, Lord, thou hast so promised, and ma­ny a time effected it. For, into what streights was thy Church brought during that horrible slauerie of E­gypt, their pilgrimage in the wil­dernesse, their calamities befalling them vnder the Iudges, the capti­uitie of thine Arke, the renting of Iudah and Israel, the dreadfull de­struction by Babel, when there re­mayned not one stone vpon ano­ther: thine holy Temple was made an heape of dust, the sacred vessels were sacrilegiously rauined, caried away, and profanely abused: thy sacrificers murdered, the crowne of Dauid tombled to the grounde, all the lande dyed with blood, [Page]without regarde of age, sexe, or de­gree: the small residue dragged in­to bondage among all the nations of the worlde, vnder so many cala­mities, among the Syrians and Egyptians: and aboue al, when thy temple being reedified, thou depar­tedst out of it, and gauest roome as it were to Idoles in thine owne pa­laces: and when thy lawe, I saye, thy most sacred lawe was so villa­nously interdicted, torne, and burnt, and as it were, quite abrogated by consent of most part of thy people iustly abandoned of thee? Nowe after this horrible and dreadfull de­struction of mine auncient children thus cut off, and when thou gauest mee a newe generation, alas, of what rages and cruelties had I ex­periment for the space of three hun­dreds of yeeres one after another?

For thy seruantes delight in the stones therof, and haue pitie on the dust thereof. 14 Yet euer at mine extremest neede thou didest sende mee Cham­pions, and madest me to finde force in feeblenesse, calme in tempest, fe­licitie in misery, life in death: Thou didest, I say, euermore cause mee to see what differēce there is betwene that fatherly rodde wherewith thou correctest thy children to saluation, & that yron barre wherewith thou dashest thine enemies past all reco­uerie. Egypt, Niniue, Babel, and this loftie image of the monarchies teared by my ruines, and cymented with my childrens blood, are nowe come downe, while yet thy poore Sion standes and speakes. Thou, O God, euermore most like thy selfe, nowe that thou seest me more streyghted then euer, shewe that thou hast set boundes to my mise­ries, as thou didest in olde time to [Page]those captiuities of Egypt and Ba­bylon. Rayse vp some Iosuahs, and Esdras, some Nehemiahs and Constantines, which may reare a­gaine thy rased palaces, taking pi­tie on our ruines and sackinges. Aboue all, Lord, sende vs some Aa­rons and some Esdras, hauing thy spirite in their heart, and thy worde in their mouth, as true instruments of thy power, to rayse againe this thy spirituall buylding which is throwen to the grounde, and so dis­figured, as with much a doe can a man tracke out so much as the very auncient foundation: And blesse, Lorde,Then ye heathen shal feare the Name of ye Lord, and all the kings of ye earth thy glory. the hande and the labours of thy faithfull workemen, so as in steade of so many peoples at this day reuolted from thee, some for­ced by Mahomet, others seduced by false pastors, profaning the chayre [Page]of trueth by their coyned and coun­terfaited doctriues,When ye Lorde shall buylde vp Zion, and shall ap­peare in his glory, all may bee brought backe againe to thee, in such wise, that thy glory may shine more then euer,And shal turne vnto the prayer of the deso­late, & not despise their praier and thy heauenly Sion, that workemanship of thine owne very hande, may be lifted vp againe to her former brightnesse.

17 Heare, O mightie God, the prayer of thy poore desolate daugh­ter,This shall bee written for the gene­ration to come: and the people, which shal­be created, shall prayse the Lord. yet so much cherished of thee.

18 Giue me matter to couche in my recordes this most excellent de­liuerance, to the ende that the me­morie may dure without ende, and that this people beyng throughly renewed,For hee hath looked down from the height of his sanc­tuarie: out of the hea­uen did the Lorde be­holde the earth. may haue occasion to magnifie thy prayse from father to sonne.

19 Bring againe that golden worlde, wherein one may saye with better speede then euer, that thou, [Page]O eternall God, being set in thy high throne, aduaunced aboue the heyghtes of heauens, hast cast thy cheerefull & gracious eye vpon the earth,20 That he might heare the mourning of the pri­soner, & de­liuer the children of death: giuing eare to the grones of thy languishing captiue Church, and of thy poore children looking for nothing but the slaughter.

21 That they may declare the name of ye Lorde in Lion, & his prayse in Ierusalem. 21 Gather againe together, Lord, the sheepe wildly straying and scat­tered through the wildernesse, full of hungerbitten and starke wood Lyons and Tygers.

22 When the people shall be ga­thered to­gether, and the king­domes to serue the Lord. 22 Vnite againe to thee the realmes which Sathan hath with­drawen, sith thou art King of kings, to whome all glorie, puis­saunce, and magnificence belongs. Let thy name be called on, and thy prayse proclaymed in Ierusalem in sight and knowledge of all the worlde.

23 He a­bated my strength in the way, & shortened my dayes. 23 Well then, I haue bene af­flicted a thousande and a thousande sortes, my course hath bene cutte in two, my dayes haue bene, as it were shortened:24 And I sayd, O my God, take me not a­way in the middes of my dayes: thy yeeres endure from gene­ration to generation I haue bene constrayned to beseeche my God, that he would not plucke me away with such vio­lence, and that he would suffer mee to finish my rare: But considering the eternitie of my God, for euer himselfe, this chaunge doeth no longer amaze mee, knowing that my foundations are layde farre more surely, then if they were but­trised by the heauen or by the earth:25 Thou hast afore­time layde the foūda­dion of the earth, & the heauens are ye work of thine handes. For, though the earth be substanti­ally setled by the maruailous pow­er of him that layde the foundation, and that this heauenly frame, the very workemanshippe of the eter­nall God, hath neuer yet swerued among so many, so violent, and [Page]continuall reuolutions, yet al with­in measure and compasse so exqui­site, [...]6 They [...]al perish, [...]t thou [...]alt en­ [...]re: euen [...]ey al shal [...]axe olde [...] doeth a [...]rment: [...] a vesture [...]lt thou [...]nge [...]m, and [...]y shalbe [...]nged. But [...]u art ye [...]e, & thy [...]es shall [...] fayle. The [...]dren of [...] seruāts [...]l con­ [...]e, and [...] seede [...] stande in thy [...]. as none can amende: Neuer­thelesse must all this geare passe a­way one daye, it being so determi­ned: and this goodly shewe shall va­nish as wee see a garment by litle and litle waxe old and weare away. But thou, O mightie God, abso­lute in thy selfe, hast neyther ende nor beginning, but exempting thy selfe from all chaunge, thou decla­rest thy power in the varietie of thy workes.

28 And for so much as I am stayed vpon this thy permanent power, & vnchangeable good will, assured, I saye, vpon that throne, whereof thy Sonne my redeemer hath taken possession, to make mee his coheire through the mercy, inte­gritie, obedience, satisfaction and [Page]merite wherewith he purchased me the celestiall kingdome: I am cer­tainly resolued, that this stayednesse will vpholde mee, and that through all the tempestes, by which it plea­seth thee to leade mee, for the mani­festation of thy bountie and power in conseruation of thine, I shall yet arriue in that eternal hauen, where­in all we, whome thou allowest for thy seruantes, though neuer so vn­profitable, beyng borne age after age, and whome thou shalt acknow­ledge for true children of Abraham, Isaak, and Iacob, with whom thou contractedst the couenant of eternall life, shal haue our dwelling worlde without ende, Amen.

A meditation vpon the 130 Psalme.

1 Out of the deepe places. O My poore soule, fall not flatte downe, vexe not thy selfe out of measure: the burden of thy sinnes presseth thee sore in deede, but bee not for al that, quite ouerwhelmed: thou art thrust downe so low into ye deepest deepes, yt thou hadest neede cry lowde for to bee heard of him, which dwelleth in the hyghest heights: And the euer burning hell fire is not farre from that lake, whi­ther thine iniquities haue plunged thee, so as thou mayest, as it were, perceiue the Echo of their cryes & desperat howlings, which be there caft without al hope of euer cōming forth. But the Lord which bringes euen to the borders of hell his best [Page]beloued, when they forget them­selues, knowes also howe well to bring them backe again. Goe no further then downward, but lift vp thine heart together with thy crye, and saye not in thy selfe, God hath reiected mee from before him, for, such lāguage God likes not. Thou cryest vnto God, and wherefore, but onely because hee hath awake­ned thee? For loe, what he cryeth in thine eares: My people, what haue I done to thee? or wherein haue I grieued or yrked thee?haue I called vnto thee, O Lorde. O my God, what shall I answere thee hereto? He which receyueth the of­fence, goeth first about to excuse him: The Iudge falleth a besee­ching of the guyltie partie: and what can I say, my God, but that I can not comprehende that which thou doest for me, who could not so [Page]much as haue any being, hadest not thou made mee? And after thou ha­dest made mee, either I forgat all that thou hadest done for mee, or els the remembrance thereof represen­ting vnto mee mine vnthankeful­nesse, astonisheth my sense, and stop­peth my mouth. Rather thou thy selfe Lord, declare vnto me what thou hast done for mee, so as I may neure forget it. Thou madest mee of nothing in the person of my first father, and is it not somewhat to be made somewhat of nothing? Thou hast facioned mee in my mothers wombe, thou hast taken mee from thence, as it were by thine owne proper handes: thou hast suckled, nourished and brought mee vp, by raysing vp vnto mee such as did it according to that will and habilitie, which thou gauest them. Through­out [Page]this infancie, from howe many harmes didst thou defend me? In so much as I owe thee euen so many liues, as I haue passed dayes and houres, minutes and moments: and yet during all that age, I neyther could knowe my selfe, whereby to know how much I ought thee, nor yet thee, whereby to thanke thee for it. What other thing then did stirre thee to do well by me, but onely thy goodnesse? Passing further on in yeeres, mine vnworthinesse grewe on together with mine age, and thy largesse on the other side grewe so much the more, hauing bestowed a­bundantly on mee not onely witte, health, and so many other giftes of vse in this life, which also thou be­stowest liberally sometime on thy greatest enemies: but thou hast im­parted to mee the knowledge of thy [Page]sauing health by thy deare Sonne our Lorde Iesus Christ: Thou comfortedst me in a thousand afflic­tions, thou hast borne with mee in tenne thousande sinnes, thou hast vpholden me in innumerable temp­tations: shortly, thou neuer ceasedst by thy bountie to fight against my malice, and against my rebellion by thy patience. Loe, what thou hast done to me, Lorde: Nowe what is it that I haue done againe? Alas, my God,2 Lorde, heare my voyce: let thine eares attend to ye voyce of my pray­ers. if I enter into this deapth of ripping vp mine iniquities, whereof any one sufficeth to make me guiltie of eternall death, surely I am quite vndone.

3 If thou, O Lorde, straightly markest in­iquities, O Lord, who shal stand? 2 I can then doe nothing else, but beseeche thee to heare my cries: and thou wilt do it, Lorde. For, O Lorde God, who coulde euer haue abiden before thee, if thou, hadest [Page]taken the lawe on his sinnes?

4 But mer­cy is with thee, that thou mayst be feared. 4 Take heart againe, my soule, for thy Iudge is the fountaine of compassion, otherwise there were none order to serue and beseeche him, but all in vaine. It is true, thou hast lauished out his riches, but thy God is as riche, and as farre from nigardlinesse as euer: Thou hast thralled thy selfe to sinne and death, but thy God hath redeemed thee with a more then sufficient ransom: Saye rather with that poore vn­thrift,5 I haue wayted on the Lorde: my soule hath way­ted, and I haue trust­ed in his worde. I goe to my father: hee will receiue thee without casting thee in the teeth, yea rather he will reioyce of thy returne, hee wayteth to em­brace thee with his mercy. Doe not as did Adam, who ranne away from his face whome hee had offended: Should the sicke man flee the Phi­sition? Whither shoulde a poore [Page]body goe, but to him that will and can helpe him? Hee hath giuen his Sonne for thee, and will he nowe reiect thee? Weenest thou that Ie­sus Christ, who hath bought thee so deere,6 My soule waiteth on the Lorde more then the mor­ning watch watcheth for the morning. wil now lose thee? Waite for his grace rather, and if hee be slowe to reache his hande, consider that thou slackest much more thy tur­ning to him. Doubt not of his wil, sith both in his worde, and in his dealing towardes thee, thou hast yet more cleare and euident testi­monies thereof, then thou hast of his might. Be rather in thy warde, watching alwayes, without being weary or slumbering,7 Let Isra­el waite on Lord: for yt with the Lorde is mercie, and with him is great re­demption. vntill he ap­peare as the dawning of the day, chasing away the darkenesse where­in thou art plunged.

7 And you whosoeuer, ouer­throwen like mee, followe mine [Page]example and aduise, goe we all my brethren to that great eternall God, ioyning together with the acknow­ledgement of our faultes, hope, which neuer disappoynteth them that haue it, being setled vpon his infallible trueth. If our sinnes bee innumerable, his mercie is infinite towardes the repenting, beleeuing, hoping, and praying.

8 And he shall re­déeme Is­rael from all his ini­quities. 8 Will wee haue any other proofe hereof, then that incompre­hensible loue, wherethrough this good father was mooued, euen not to spare his sonne? Then this infi­nite loue of this great shepheard, which made himselfe of none ac­compt, to enriche vs? Who hath charged himself with al our sinnes, not one except? Who was obedient for his poore Israel, that is to saye, his elect, euen to that death of the [Page]crosse? I embrace thee with both mine armes, O Iesus Christ, which hast reconciled me to the Fa­ther, assuring me by thy Spirite, of the comfort of my saluation in thee, and so fast embracing thee, I receiue the pledges of life and euerlasting blisse. Amen.

A meditation vpon the 143 Psalme.

1 Heare my prayer, O Lorde, and hearken vnto my sup­plication: answere me in thy trueth & in thy righte­ousnes. O Eternall God, listen to my prayer, hearken to my request, heare mee, for thyne assured trustines byndeth thee to holde that which thy goodnes hath promised: And what can I alleadge herein, but thyne owne selfe? for not I alone,2 (And en­ter not into iudgement with thy seruant: for in thy sight shall none that liueth be iustified) poore and woe begone sinner that I am, but no man aliue going about to debate his cause with thee, as though he had right on his side, shal be found righteous. Wherefore, in stead of pleading I condemne and iudge my self: I bring thee nothing of myne owne but iniquitie, and I craue that which is thyne, to wit, grace and mercy.

3 For the e­nemie hath persecuted my soule: hee hath smitten my life downe to the earth: he hath layde me in the darkenes, as they that haue bene dead long ago: 3 O my God, thou seest, alas, my piteous estate: myne enemyes and thyne pursue me for life, which already lyeth as is were in the dust, at their mercy: I am euen nowe in the darkenes of death, yea I am as a Carion long since dead and stink­ing.

4 Alas, my spirit is so perplexed, that it cannot resolue nor winde it selfe out.4 And my spirit was in perplexi­tie in me, & mine heart within mee was ama­sed. Both vnderstanding and hart are quite lost within me: wher­upon I bethought mee of so many auncient testimonyes and experi­ments which I haue had of thy be­nignitie and fauour from mine in­fancie, and I stayde my selfe vpon consideration of the high workes of thy handes, euen true euidences of thine infinite wisedome and bounty together, towardes the very least of thy creatures: and namely I beheld [Page]in my spirit thine high actes on be­halfe of thy welbeloued,6 I stretch forth mine hands vn­to thee: my soule desi­reth after thee, as the thirstie lād. things ve­rily passing all wonder.

6 This incouraged me, my God, to stretche foorth myne handes to thee: this I say,7 Heare me speedily, O Lorde, for my spirite fayleth: hide not thy face from me, else I shall be like vnto them that goe downe into the pit strengthened my poore conscience to addresse it selfe to thee, yea with more burning de­sire, then euer the most parched ground gaped for the moysture of thy rayne.

7 But what is to be done? Euen forthwith haste thee, answere me O eternal God,8 Let mee heare thy louing kindnes in the morning, for in thee is my trust: shewe me the way, yt I should walke in, for I lift vp my soule vnto thee. for I cā endure no longer: Beholde me dead, lying in the dust of the graue, vnlesse thou shew forth that cheerefull eye which with one onely looke can reuiue the dead: without the sound of thy most gentle voyce, I am cast away: make it then to sounde and sound agayne in mine eares, & in mine heart, for [Page]I am of ye number of those to whō thou hast bound thy selfe, no whit, alas, for any merit of mine, but thine only free mercy. I am, I say, one of those by thy grace, to wit, of those which hope for yt which thou hast promised, & giuen them grace to beleeue: without this I wot not where to become, nor which way to turne me. And therefore, O high God, I prepare my selfe to thee, that thou mightest teache me which way to holde:9 Deliuer me, O Lord, from mine enemies: for I hid mee with thee. thou seest howe mine enemies hemme me in: deliuer me, O eternall, who alone canst and wilt do it, for so much as I haue no refuge but vnder thy couert. Alas, I weened with my selfe to haue seene many trim starting holes: & agayne I am tempted to assay infi­nite meanes. But, God forbid, I shoulde herein followe that which [Page]this blind & froward nature would suggest. Hence from mee, thou vn­wise wit, foolish wisedome, vnrea­sonable reason, and all ye passions which can doe nought but cary me headlong on mine owne heade. It is thou, O Lord, that I will hold, & hold fast for my God: consequently,10 Teache mee to do thy wil, for thou art my God: let thy good Spirit lead me vnto the land of righteous­nesse. nothing will I will, saue that thou willest. And because I can neither vnderstand this will, nor take plea­sure to followe it when I haue vn­derstood it, teach it me, O Lord, and leade me in it, not alone to knowe it, but also to practise it, Let thy good spirit be my loads man in the right way,11 Quicken me, O Lord for thy Names take, & for thy righte­ousnes bring my soule out of trouble. and not that tempting spirit, nor yet flesh and blood.

11 Vp nowe then my poore spi­rit hitherunto desolate: comfort thy selfe, for the eternall will drawe comfort forth of him selfe to reuiue [Page]shee, because it hath pleased him that his name should be called vpon in thee, and according to his infinite bounty will deliuer thee out of all anguishes.

12 And for thy mercy stay mine enemies, & destroy all them that op­presse my soule: for I am thy ser­uant. 12 Doeth Sathan amase thee? hee hath vanquished him for thee. Doth the corruption of thy nature astonish thee? the sonne of God ma­king him selfe man hath fully sanc­tified it for thee. Doe thy sinnes af­fright thee which be fruits of this corruption? He hath borne them all vpon the tree, and hath payd for thy discharge: which more is, his righ­teousnesse is thine, sith he himselfe is thine. Art thou afrayde of men, sith God is for thee? Doth death af­fray thee? it is vanquished and tur­ned into an entry of life. Beholde then all thine enemies scattered, be­hold quite vnder foote, all such as [Page]afflicted thee within and without, because the Lorde alloweth thee for one of his seruants and houshold. A­men.

❧ Imprinted at Lon­don in Bacon house by Chri­stopher Barker, Printer to the Queenes most ex­cellent Maiestie. 1582.

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