Meditations and Disquisitions Upon Seven Psalms of David, Commentary 1 – Text 2
MEDITATIONS And diſquiſitions upon the Sixth Pſalme.
O My ſoule, what is it thou haſt done? haſt thou beene ſtriving with the Angell, about the bodie of Moſes? For why elſe ſhouldſt thou bee afraid of the Angels imprecation to Sathan, when hee ſtrove with him about it, The Lord rebuke thee? Certainly either the Angel was very milde in his imprecation, or thou art very ſharp in thy deprecation. But O wretch that I am! If Sathan deſerved rebuking for ſtriving with an Angel; how much more do I deſerve it, for ſtriving with the Creator of Angels? and not about taking away the body of Moſes, but about taking away the glory of his holy Name? For ſuch, and ſo execrable are my ſinnes, that through them, the holineſſe of Gods glorious name is blaſphemed among the Gentiles. And have I not juſt cauſe then to feare that he will, and therefore juſt cauſe to pray, that he will not, Rebuke me in his anger, nor chaſten mee in his heavy diſpleaſure.
But though rebuking were an imprecation to Sathan, yet to mee it is not ſo, ſeeing I doe not more deſerve it, then I need it; as I deſerve it for my ſin, ſo I need it for my amendment: for without rebuking, what amending? what amending indeed without thy rebuking? For alas, the fleſh flatters mee, the world abuſeth mee, Sathan deludes mee; and now O God, if thou alſo ſhouldſt hold thy peace, and wink at my follies, whom ſhould I have? Alas, whom could I have, to make mee ſenſible of their fouleneſſe. If thou ſhouldſt not tell mee, and tell me roundly, I went a ſtray, how ſhould I ever, alas, how could I ever be brought to returne into the right way? To thy rebuking therefore I humbly ſubmit my ſelfe; I know thou intendeſt it for my amendment, and not for my confuſion; for my converſion, and not for my ſubverſion: It may be bitter in the taſting, but is moſt comfortable in the working: hard perhaps to digeſt, but moſt ſoveraigne, being digeſted: Yet I cannot endure thou ſhouldſt rebuke mee in anger, I cannot endure it in affection, but I can leſſe endure it in abilitie: It is grievous to mee, to thinke thou art angry, but it is inſupportable to mee, to feele thou art angry: the hand of thine anger is heavie, and though of thy ſelfe thou be as it were a ſweetly breathing ayre; yet anger maks thee a conſuming fire, that if thine anger be kindled, yea, but a little, Bleſſed are all they that put their truſt in thee.
When I conſider with my ſelfe the many favours, undeſerved favours, thou haſt vouchſafed unto mee, and conſider withall, how little uſe, how ill uſe I have made of them all, though I know I have juſtly deſerved thy rebuking, yet my hope is ſtill, thou wilt adde this favour alſo, not to rebuke me in thine anger: but when I thinke, how unkinde a thing thy rebuking is, but how terrible a thing thine anger is; when I thinke, what a paine it is to have thee chaſten mee, but what a death it is, to have thee chaſten mee in diſpleaſure; then I fall a trembling in all my joynts, and never think I can make haſte enough to ſay, and to ſay with ſighing; O Lord, rebuke mee not in thine anger, neither chaſten mee in thy heavie diſpleaſure.
But why may not God rebuke mee, as Eli rebuked his ſonnes? for hee rebuked his ſons for their ſinnes, and yet no anger appeared in him at all. O my ſoule, wilt thou make Eli a pattern for God? becauſe God is a loving Father, wilt thou therefore make him like Eli, too indulgent a father? Ely indeed rebuked his ſonnes with a rod, but hee made his rod of Roſes and Violets: hee rebuked them for ſins of preſumption, as if they had been but ſins of infirmity: hee rebuked them for ſinnes of wilfulneſſe, as if they had beene but ſinnes of ignorance: and what was this, but inſtead of ſtriking them, to ſtroake them, and inſtead of ſtopping them in their race, to adde rather a ſpurre unto them? And was it not for this, that God rebuked Eli in his anger, becauſe Eli rebuked not his ſonnes in his anger? I deny not O God, but that my ſinnes deſerve thine anger; or rather I acknowledge they juſtly provoke thine anger: but alas, O Lord, if thou ſhouldeſt enter into judgement with thy ſervants, what fleſh were able to ſtand before thee, and not bee conſumed? O vile ſinne of mine, enough to put patience it ſelfe into choler, able to anger a ſaint, nay, even the King of ſaints. That if thou O God, ſhouldeſt rebuke mee in thine anger, if chaſten mee in thy heavie diſpleaſure, I could not ſay, but that thine anger were lenitie, and thy diſpleaſure, mildneſſe.
But what boldneſſe of language is this in ſpeaking to God? am I not worthy of rebuke, for praying God, not to rebuke mee in his anger, as though I thought that God could bee angry? For, is not anger a paſſion of humane infirmitie, and will I make God ſubject to paſſions of infirmitie? Is not anger a defect in reaſon is? not God a perfection above reaſon? and can there bee defect in perfection? can there bee paſſion in him, that is Purus Actus? But is it not, that anger in God is not a paſſion, but an action, not a defect, but an effect: for then is God ſayd to bee angry, when he puts his judgements in execution, when his rebukings tend not to converſion, but to confuſion: when his mercy attempers not the rigour of his juſtice. Oh then, rebuke mee O God, but not in thine anger; rebuke me as thou didſt the Ninevites, who at thy rebuking repented and were converted: but rebuke mee not as thou didſt Pharaoh, who hardned his heart at thy rebuking, and was confounded. If thou O God, ſhouldſt rebuke mee in thine anger, I ſhould more have an eye to thy rod, then give an eare to thy leſſon: I ſhould bee more terrified with thine anger, then edified with thy rebuking, and ſhould be made uncapable of thy doctrine, with the terror of thy teaching: for I, alas, am as a nayle under the workmans hammer, better driven in with gentle ſtroakes, then with hard blowes: Oh therfore, rebuke mee not O God, if thou be angry, or if thou rebuke mee, bee not angry: Two ſuch ſharp notes, as anger and rebuking are, can never make any pleaſing muſicke, if they meet together. Anger in rebuking, makes the water troubled, and thick that ſhould be drunk cleere, makes the Ayre ſultry, and hot, that ſhould be breathed in cold, extremely both of them unwholeſome for the body: and ſeeing thou intendeſt my health, and ſeekeſt not to make mee ſicke, Let not anger enflame thy rebuking O God, that ſo the ayre of it I may take in the cooler, that ſo the water of it I may drink the cleerer. I, alas, am as a narrow mouthed veſſell in the hand of the drawer, better filled with ſoftly pouring in, then with pouring in haſtily, which commonly ſpills more then it fills: and ſeeing thy rebuking is too precious a liquor to bee ſpilt, O poure it in with the ſoftly hand of patience, and not with the haſtie hand of anger; that ſo it may the ſooner fil, & the better enter without ſpilling, into this narrow mouthed veſſell of my emptie ſoule. Thy rebuking O God, is to mee as thunder, but thine anger is as lightning: and is it not enough, that thou terrifie my ſoule with the thunder of thy rebuking, but thou wilt alſo ſet this flaxe of my fleſh on fire with the lightning of thine anger? Thy rebuking of it ſelfe is a precious Balme, but mixt with anger, turns to a Corroſive: O keepe thy Corroſives, O God, for ſuch hardned hearts as Pharaohs was; Apply to mee onelyonly the ſimple Balme of thy rebuking, and let it not have any mixture at all of thy Corroding anger in it. What though I have offended thee with ſins of anger, muſt thou needs take revenge, in the ſame kind thou art offended? and if needs thou muſt doe ſo, why maiſt thou not then take revenge of my ſinnes in thy good pleaſure, ſeeing I have offended thee as much with ſinnes of pleaſure? Thou didſt walke in Paradiſe with our firſt Parents, in the coole of the day, when the heate of the ſunne was over, and this made thy preſence as cheerfull, as glorious: Vouchſafe O God, to deale ſo with mee, rebuke mee in the coole of thy Spirit, when the heat of thine anger is over-paſt; for elſe alas, it may be glorious, but can never be comfortable.
But if rebuking me in thine anger, be ſo bitter a Potion, what is it then, to chaſten mee in thine indignation? for where the worſt of thy rebuking in anger, is but threatning of puniſhment: the beſt of thy chaſtening in indignatiō, is inflicting of puniſhment: and though a ſtrong heart may perhaps endure ſuch threatnings, yet no ſtrength of heart is able to beare ſuch inflictings. It is terror enough to heare thee but chide, but to feele thee ſtrike, and that with ſtroakes of indignation, what power of any creature is able to endure it? I aske not, thou wouldſt not chaſten mee: this were to aske, thou wouldſt not love mee; for whom thou loveſt, thou chaſteneſt; and would I loſe thy love, for any chaſtening? O gracious God, chaſten mee in what manner, with what meaſure thou pleaſeſt: chaſten mee as thou didſt Lazarus, by making him lye for hunger at Dives gate: chaſten me as thou didſt Iob, by making him lye with ſores upon the dunghill: chaſten mee, as thou didſt Daniel, by making him bee caſt into the Lions denne: but then chaſten me in love, and not in indignation; for thy chaſtening in love, though it paine, yet it heales; though it bruiſe, yet it comforts: Thy rod & thy ſtaff, they comfort me; but thy chaſtening in indignation, is paine without hope, is bruiſing in deſpaire, or rather not a paine but a torment, not a bruiſing, but a breaking: that no miſery can bee comparable to this chaſtening, to be chaſtened in thine indignation.
Chaſtening and love may well bee matcht together, they are like to Iacob and Rachel, though there be ſeven yeares of ſervice more, yet Rachel will bee had at laſt: but chaſtening and indignation are as badly matcht as may bee, for chaſtening enclines to converſion, and indignation is wholy bent upon confuſion; oh therefore, match thy chaſtening with love, and not with indignation, that ſo, at leaſt, I may come at laſt, to enjoy my Rachel, that is, thy favour: Chaſtening and love, may lodge both together in the bowels of a father, but indignation comes not where bowels are: and how then, O God, canſt thou chaſten me in indignation, but thou muſt as it were disbowell thy ſelfe, and utterly abandon the name of a Father? and ſhall any thing make thee to leave that Name? I know, O God, it is a name ſo deare unto thee, that I hope I ſhall commit no ſuch ſinne; and ſuffer mee not O God, to commit any ſuch ſinne as ſhall ever be able to make thee abandon it. Indeed here, where wee call thee Lord, indignation may appeare, and bee bold to ſhew it ſelfe: but when wee come to name thee Father, indignation muſt be gone, and never preſume to come in place. If thy chaſtening bee intended for reforming, or for poliſhing, what wouldſt thou doe with indignation, that tends to aboliſhing? And if thou chaſten whom thou loveſt, and then deſtroy whom thou chaſteneſt; what difference will there bee betweene thy indignation, and thy mercy? Oh let not thy chaſtening, which is ordained to be a rod for thy children, be made a knife to ſlaughter thy Children: Conſider, O God, I am but a pot made of brittle Clay, that if thy hand hold not a temper in ſtriking, I ſhall ſoone bee broken, and beaten in pieces, and then thy workmanſhip will bee defaced. And ſhall it ever bee ſayd of thee, that with one hand thou makeſt, and with the other hand deſtroyeſt? Remember O God, whoſe title it is, to bee a deſtroyer: thy title is to bee a Creator: and ſhall I finde no more favour at the hands of a Creator, then I might looke to finde at the hands of a deſtroyer?
Alas, my ſoule, I know full well, it were a grievous caſe for mee, if God ſhould let his chaſtening and his indignation joyne together, and aſſayle mee with them both at once; but how ſhall I doe to keepe them aſunder? Have I any Moſes to ſtand for mee in the gap? Bleſſed be thy glorious Name, O God: I have indeed a greater then Moſes, even him, whom thou didſt chaſten in thy heavie diſpleaſure; to the end thou mightſt not chaſten mee in thy heavie diſpleaſure; for his agonie of crying, My God, My God, why haſt thou forſaken mee; gives mee boldneſſe to cry, and confidence in crying, My God, My God, have mercy upon mee: This I know will helpe, when all other helps ſayle. But what have I in my ſelfe to plead, why God ſhould not chaſten mee in his heavie diſpleaſure? Can I ſay, I have not deſerved it? Or can I ſay I have not even provoked him to doe it? Alas, O God, I have nothing in thee to flie to, but onelyonly thy mercy; nothing in my ſelfe to plead, but onelyonly my weakneſſe; Have mercy upon mee, O God, Verſe 2 for I am weake.
But is not this a weak Plea, to alleage weakneſſe for a Plea? weak indeed with men, who commonly tread hardeſt upon the weakeſt, and are ever going over where the hedge is loweſt; but no weake Plea with God, whoſe mercy is ever readie upon all occaſions, and then moſt, when there is moſt need: and ſeeing there is greateſt need, where there is greateſt weakneſſe, therefore no Plea with God ſo ſtrong as this; Have mercy upon me, O God, for I am weake.
But why ſhould David pray for mercy to helpe his weakneſſe? for what can mercy do? Mercy can but pitty his weaknes, it is ſtrength that muſt relieve it. But is it not, that mercy, I may ſay, is as the ſteward of Gods houſe, and hath the command of all he hath: that if wiſedome be wanting for direction, mercy can procure it. If juſtice be wanting for defence, Mercy can obtain it: If ſtrength be wanting for ſupport, Mercy can command it: and therefore no Plea ſo perfect to bee urged with God, as this, Have mercy upon mee, O God, for I am weake.
But why ſhould David make his weakneſſe a motive to God for mercy? for is not weakneſſe an effect of ſinne? and can God love the effect, when hee hates the cauſe? but it is not the weakeneſſe in David that God loves, but the acknowledging of his weakneſſe: for what is this, but the true humility? and who knowes not in how high account ſuch humility is with God, ſeeing it is indeed of this wonderfull condition, that though nothing be ſo low, yet nothing reacheth ſo high, and therefore no motive ſo fit to move God, as this; Have mercy upon mee, O God, for I am weake. Mercy indeed looks downe upon no object ſo directly, as upon weakeneſſe; and weakeneſſe lookes up to no object ſo directly as to mercy: and therefore they cannot chuſe but meete, and meeting, not chuſe but embrace each other. Mercy, weakneſſe as her Clyent: weakneſſe, Mercy as her Patron: that no Plea can bee with God ſo ſtrong, as this, Have mercy upon mee, O God, for I am weake. Let thy indignation, O God, be layd upon Pharaoh, and ſuch as truſt in their ſtrength, for upon them thou maiſt get thee honour: but alas, what honour can bee gotten, by pouring thy indignation upon ſo weake a Creature as I am? Thy honour ſhall bee as much to ſupport my weakneſſe by thy mercy; as to abate their pride, by thine indignation.
But what though David be weak? is every weaknes ſufficient cauſe to run to God about? might he not take Reſtoratives and Cordialls, and ſuch other comfortable things, and ſo help his weakneſſe without going to God? O my ſoule, what comfort is in a Cordiall, if it be not of Gods making? what ſtrength in a Reſtorative, if it be not of Gods giving? No, O Lord, thy mercy is the only reſtorative that can help my weakneſſe; the true Aqua Coeleſtis, to comfort my ſpirits.
I know, O God, thou ſweetly diſpoſeſt all things both in weight and meaſure; Thou conſidereſt man that he is but duſt; Thou knoweſt mee, that I am a worme, and no man; and can it then be thou ſhouldſt have no conſideration of my weakneſſe? wilt thou not proportion thy burthen to the bearer? wilt thou loade a Gnat, as thou wouldſt loade a Camell? Oh have mercy upon mee, O God, and conſider my weakneſſe, for I am weake.
But why ſhould David make his weakneſſe; a cauſe for God to ſpare him? for how came hee by his weakneſſe? was it not by his owne diſorder? and then, if his weakneſſe be one of his faults, hath not God juſt cauſe to ſtrike him the harder for his weakneſſe? It ſeemes, indeed, that David cannot deny but that he deſerves it, and therefore layes not his Plea in the Court of Gods juſtice, but of his mercy; for his merciemercy, he knoweth, hath bowells of compaſſion, and will not alwaies bee ruled by rigour; but finding contrition, will have a regard of weakneſſe. And indeed, ſeeing the end of Gods chaſtening is but to piece up my breaches, why ſhould hee ſtrike ſo hard, to break mee in pieces.
But are there not ſome men, that feign themto be ſelves poore, when yet they be rich, becauſe they would pay but a little tribute? And may not David be ſuch a one, feign himſelfe to bee weake, when perhaps hee was ſtrong, becauſe hee would have God to ſpare him in his chaſtening? But never have ſuch a thought of David: for heare him what hee ſayes farther: Heale mee, for my bones are troubled, and ſurely, if his bones bee troubled, hee may well bee allowed to ſay hee is weake. For if there be any ſtrength in our bodies, it is in our bones: they are both ableſt to withſtand harme, and fartheſt removed out of harmes way; that before any trouble can come to them, it muſt paſſe the skinne, the fleſh, the membranes, and all other parts, that if once the bones come to bee troubled, wee may juſtly ſay, Res rediit ad Triarios, the matter is come to the height of extremity: And therefore, David finding trouble in his bones, had juſt cauſe to complaine of weakneſſe, and to ſay; Heale mee, O God, for my bones are troubled. Diſtempers and infirmities are ever more hard, or eaſie to be cured, as they are ſeated in parts, more hard or eaſie to be wrought upon: and therefore diſtempers in the ſpirits, are of al other the eaſieſt to be cured, more hard in the humours, but in the ſolid parts hardeſt of all, for then they grow to bee Hectick; and ſuch, in all account, are ſcarſe held curable: and ſeeing of all the ſolid parts the bones are the moſt ſolid, and therefore diſeaſes in them the hardeſt to be cured; David had juſt cauſe to call to God for helpe, and to ſay; Heale mee, O God, for my bones are troubled. If the beames of a houſe bee unſound and ſhaken, how is it poſſible the houſe ſhould ſtand, and as little is it poſſible, that this body of mine ſhould bee ſaved from ruine: if my bones which are the beams of it, be out of order, and troubled.
But if the trouble of the bones be ſo incurable, is it not preſumption in David to ſay; Heale me, O God, for my bones are troubled: being as if he ſhould ſay, cure me, O God, for I am paſt all cure, and ſo tempt God, with deſiring him to do a worke that is impoſſible? But is it not, that David knowes to whom hee ſpeakes? hee knowes hee ſpeaks not to Galen, or to Hippocrates, hee knowes hee ſpeakes not to Aeſculapius, or to Apollo, but hee ſpeakes to him that is a tranſcendent to all theſe: One to whom, not only nothing is impoſſible, but to whom all impoſſible things are nothing. It were indeed an unreaſonable requeſt in the eye of Nature, but very unreaſonable in the eye of Faith: ſeeing Faith indeed is then moſt reaſonable, when moſt it is above all reaſon; which therefore-made Abraham, the Father of the faithfull, becauſe contrary to hope, hee believed in hope, that God would make him ſuch a father. And indeed moſt properly then it growes to bee a cure for God, when in mans judgement it is growne incurable: as Chriſt would not go to heale Lazarus untill hee was dead, and had beene foure daies buried, thereby perhaps to prepare beliefe for his owne reſurrection: ſeeing it might well bee believed hee could riſe himſelfe the third day, who had raiſed another after foure daies. Never therefore fear, my ſoule, to ſay with David, Heale me, for my bones are troubled: for the time will come, when hee ſhall heale thee, not onelyonly when thy bones bee troubled, but when they bee mouldred away into duſt and powder: for even then hee will gather them together againe, and make them ſtand up, and ſerve for beams to this bodie of thine, as now they doe.
But how can the bones bee troubled, ſeeing they have no ſenſe? for it is the fleſh and the membranes that feele the pain, the bones feele none. Oh then conſider how great my trouble is, which ſtrikes a ſenſe of paine into my very parts that are not ſenſible.
And now, it would bee comfort indeed to have my bones healed, if when they were healed, I might then bee at quiet; but alas, what comfort is it now to bee healed of their trouble, when Gods chaſtening hand purſues me ſtill, and layes more, and greater troubles upon mee continually? for though the trouble of the bones bee the height of trouble; yet it is but the trouble of the bodie; my ſoule all this while hath beene at quiet, Verſe 3 but now my ſoule it ſelfe is troubled alſo, and ſo extremly troubled, that I feele it, and feele it ſenſibly, in all the parts of my ſoule; I feele it in my memory, when I remember the grievous ſins I have committed: I feele it in my underſtanding, when I conſider thy glorious Majeſty, whom I have offended: I feele it in my will, when I thinke upon the terrour of thy diſpleaſure which I have incurred. If the trouble were but in this or that part onelyonly: I might yet finde comfort in the other: but now that every part of my ſoule, now that all my whole ſoule is troubled, and extremly troubled; Alas, now I may truly ſay, was ever ſorrow, like my ſorrow, was ever trouble like this of mine?
But can the ſoule bee troubled? is it not a ſpirituall ſubſtance? and are not all earthly things too groſſe, to trouble that which is a ſpirit? They ſhould bee ſo indeed, and they would be ſo indeed, if the ſoule had her right. But alas, while wee live here, the ſoule is but an Inmate to the bodie, and therefore the body crowes over it, as being upon its own dunghill, and makes us all of kinne to Martha, troubled about many things, when but one is needfull. And yet theſe be not the things that trouble the noble ſoule, not the ſoule of David. In matters indeed between the World and us, the ſoule is forced to looke downe upon the earth, as upon that which ſuſtaines it, and if it finde a want there, it findes withall a trouble indeed; but a trouble to the body onelyonly: or if to the ſoule, but in the bodies behalfe, which is not much: That which properly troubles the ſoule, is the proper trouble of the ſoule, and is onelyonly in matters betweene God and us: and in matters of this nature, it lookes up to heaven, for there indeed is the ſoules freehold: and if that inheritance bee once queſtioned, then the ſoule findes it ſelfe in trouble preſently, and ſo extremely troubled: that where the trouble of the body, is but the bodie of trouble, this trouble of the ſoule is, I may ſay, the ſoule of trouble: and is not this inheritance queſtioned, if God fall once to rebuke mee in his anger? For ſeeing the inheritance is but a meere gift proceeding from his favour; how can I expect it, if I be in his diſpleaſure? When I was in my greateſt weakneſſe, yet my bones afforded mee at leaſt ſome ſtrength; and when my bones were troubled, yet my ſoule was able to take care of their curing: but now that my ſoule it ſelfe is troubled: Alas, O God, who is there but thy ſelfe onelyonly, of whom I can hope for any comfort? and therefore, O Lord, How long? How long wilt thou let me lye languiſhing in my weakneſſe? How long wilt thou ſuffer me to ſtruggle with oppreſſion? How long wilt thou ſee the extremity of my miſery, and not relieve mee? Thou indeed inhabiteſt Eternity, and no time to thee is either ſhort, or long: but I alas, am a ſubject of times, and nothing ſo much tyrannizeth over me, as this tyrant time; and ſpecially when it joynes with miſery: for then, as a thouſand yeares are with thee but as a day, ſo a day with mee is as a thouſand yeares: Meaſure me not therefore by thy ſtandard of Eternity, but meaſure mee by the ſtandard of time: And then O Lord, How long? How long ſhall thy chaſtening hand lye heavie upon mee? How long wilt thou poure upon mee the vialls of thine indignation? How long ſhall my ſoule bee kept from her true inheritance, which is, to beare a part in the conſort of Angels? My ſoule is a free ſpirit, and is with nothing ſo much delighted, as with liberty; with nothing ſo much vexed, as with thraldome: and in thraldome alas, in miſerable thraldome, is my ſoule detained: and therefore, O Lord, How long? How long ſhall my ſoule bee reſtrained of her liberty? How long ſhall I lye groaning in the dungeon of captivity? How long ſhall no date bee ſet, to give a period to my thraldome? My ſoule, I may ſay, is all heart, and therefore every trouble it feeles, muſt needs go to the heart, yet none ſo deepe as this, that I am forced to cry to thee out of the deepe, and cannot yet aſcend out of this vale of miſery: And therefore, O Lord, how long? How long ſhall I live in the death of this feare, the feare of death? How long ſhall I deſire to bee diſſolved, that being reunited againe, I may never more be diſſolved? How long ſhall my immortall ſoule bee kept from the poſſeſſion of her immortality, from the immortality of her poſſeſſion? If the Saints in heaven, who now tread time under their feet, doe yet continue this queſtion ſtill, to ask How long? How long, O Lord, holy, and true, wilt thou not avenge our blood on them that live in the earth; Is it mervaile, that I who live under the tyrannie of time, ſhould beginne this queſtion, to aske how long? How long, O Lord, mercifull, and juſt, wilt thou not avenge me on the world, and ſathan, for the wrongs they have done mee? How long ſhall I bee kept from ſaying, O Death, where is thy ſting, O grave, where is thy victorie? How long ſhall the Angell with the flaming ſword, keepe mee from entring againe into Paradiſe? Where is the morning of joy I promiſed to my ſelfe, when I ſaid, ſorrow may bee in the evening, but joy commeth in the morning? For how many evenings, how many tedious nights of ſorrow have I endured, and yet can ſee no morning of joy, no dawning of morning toward? Where is the truth of that Aphoriſme; Dolor ſi gravis, Brevis, for what dolour ſo grievous as this of my ſoule, and yet O Lord, how long? How long ſhall I ſtand complaining, and ſay: my ſoule is troubled? Is it not, that I ſhall never ceaſe to ſay, my ſoule is troubled, till he return again, who once ſaid for me, that his ſoule was troubled: For alas, his ſoule ſhould never have beene troubled, but to take away, amongſt others, the trouble of mine: ſeeing hee is the ſacrifice for all our ſinnes, and with his ſtripes we are healed. And now therefore, O Lord, how long? How long wilt thou turne away thy face, and not ſhew me again the light of thy countenance? How long wilt thou abſent thy ſelf from me, and not afford me the joy of thy preſence? How long wilt thou bee going ſtill farther from mee, and not ſo much as once offer to returne? Verſe 4 Oh returne at laſt and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake; for alas, O Lord, all my troubles are come upon mee, becauſe thou wentſt from mee; all my grievance is long of thine abſence: for as long as thou wert with mee, and that I had thy preſence, my ſoule was at quiet, my bones were at reſt; and I enjoyed then a ſweete and pleaſing calme over all my parts: but as ſoone as thou departedſt from mee, and didſt but turn away thy face; my calme was preſently turned into a tempeſt, a violent tempeſt of thunder and lightening: Thunder of thy rebuking, and lightening of thine anger: that if thou ſtay not thy hand from chaſtening, and return the ſooner, I ſhall never bee able to hold out living, to taſte of thy merciemercy. Saint Peter was never ſo neere drowning, when hee cried out to Chriſt, Lord ſave mee, or elſe I periſh: as David is now neere ſinking in the pit of perdition, if God returne not ſpeedily, and deliver his ſoule. But what ſpeake I of David, as though it were not my owne caſe? and if my danger bee as great, ſhall not my prayer be as earneſt? or can I finde a better way of ſaving, then thy returning? No, O Lord; for if thou returne, I am ſure thou wilt not, I know thou canſt not leave thy mercy behind: and merciemercy when it comes, I know it cannot, I am ſure it will not ever ſuffer it to bee perdition: For though my ſoul were at the pits brink, and readie to fall in, yet even then would merciemercy put forth her hand and ſave mee.
Thou requireſt mee to returne to thee; and alas, O Lord, how can I, if thou returne not to mee firſt? can I come to thee, unleſſe thou draw mee? and canſt thou draw mee to thee, if thou withdraw thy ſelfe from mee? I know thou returneſt continually, to diſpoſe and order the Oeconomie of thy creatures: but this returning is in thy providence, and is not that which I deſire: I know thou returneſt often to viſit and judge the ſinnes of the world, as thou didſt at Sodome: but this returning is in thy juſtice, and therefore, neither is this returning for my turn; but thou haſt a returning, in Grace and favour, when thou returneſt to mee, to make mee returne to thee, a returning from thine anger to thy patience, from thine indignation to thy loving kindneſſe: and this is the returning which I ſo earneſtly deſire and ſue for.
But O my ſoule, before God returne in this manner to thee, thou muſt looke to heare him expoſtulate with thee in this manner: Alas my Creature, what haſt thou done, to bring theſe troubles upon thy ſelfe? Did I not make thee at firſt a ſound bodie, and did I not give it a ſtrong conſtitution? and how happens it now that thy bones ſhould bee troubled? Did I not breathe into it a perfect ſoule, and gave it endowments, after mine owne image? and how comes it now to bee ſo quite out of order, and ſo cleane bereft of all my graces? Thou wilt perhaps anſwer; It is true O Lord, my bones are troubled: and how can they chuſe, ſeeing thou tookeſt one of them away from mee, which thou gaveſt mee at firſt? My ſoule alſo is troubled: and how can it chuſe, ſeeing thou didſt ſuffer the Serpent in Paradiſe to diſturb and trouble it? But may not God then juſtly reply, I took one of thy bones from thee indeed, but it was to make thee an helper: I let in the Serpent into Paradiſe indeed, but it was to try thee, for thy better perfecting; and when I ſaw thee ſo fooliſhly hurt thy ſelfe with thy helper, and ſo eaſily wonne from mee by a Tempter; had I not juſt cauſe to leave thee to them, for whom thou lefteſt me? and now forlorne wretch, what haſt thou to ſay, unleſſe thou have leave to ſay; Return, O Lord, and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake.
But what more neceſſity is there of Gods returning to deliver his ſoule, then there was before to heale his bones? and in that caſe he ſpake not a word of returning: and why ſhould hee more importune it now? Is it not, that many diſeaſes may be well enough cured, onelyonly by relation of ſymptomes, though the Phyſitian come not where the patient is: and of this ſort it ſeemes was the healing of his bones: but to deliver his ſoule, is of another nature, and requires perhaps a feeling the pulſe, perhaps, an inſpection of the patient: and therefore no remedie, here but the Phyſition muſt himſelfe bee preſent.
But is it enough to make ſuite to God in generall terms, to pray him to deliver my ſoule, and not tell from what it is, hee muſt deliver it? Can any man thinke that God will returne upon ſo uncertaine an occaſion? Alas, O Lord, it is not unknown to thee, that my ſoule wants no clothes: and therefore, it is not to deliver it from nakedneſſe: my ſoule needs no meat, and therefore it is not to deliver it from hunger: my ſoule is never old, and therefore it is not to deliver it from the wrackes of time; but it is indeed to deliver it from trouble: and what it is that can trouble my ſoule, thou knoweſt: for my ſoule is thy ſervant, depending wholy upon thy favour, and having offended thee, deſires to bee delivered from all feare of thine anger: My ſoule was at firſt a free ſpirit, but is now become a bondſlave to ſinne, and therfore deſires to bee delivered from this bondage: My ſoule is it ſelfe immortall, but is troubled here with a mortall body, and therefore deſires to bee delivered from this bodie of death: and in effect it is all but ſinne, and the traine that ſinne drawes after it, from which I deſire my ſoule ſhould bee delivered. And therefore returne, O Lord, and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake.
But O my ſoule, with what reaſon canſt thou expect that God ſhould ever returne to thee? for who would bee willing to come to one in trouble, as thou art, leſt hee pay for his comming, with drawing a trouble upon himſelfe? and if hee ſhould returne and come unto thee, wouldſt thou bee ſo ſatisfied? wouldſt thou not preſently bee importuning him for further favours? Hee muſt helpe thee in thy troubles; He muſt helpe thee out of thy troubles, or thou wouldſt never bee at quiet. And is it a ſmall matter to deliver a ſoule out of trouble? Do ſoules uſe to bee troubled for trifles? and were he not better then to endure thy importunity for his returning, then being returned, to bee troubled with importunitie for thy deliverance? But O my ſoule, be not frighted with theſe vaine objections: for, is God like man, that hee ſhould bee afraid of being troubled? Is he not the God of mercy; and can it bee a trouble to his merciemercy, to doe the workes of merciemercy? Is it not his delight to bee; Is it not his title to bee called; Is not his glory to bee counted a deliverer? and is any deliverance ſo fit for his merciemercy, ſo worthy of his merciemercy, as deliverance of ſoules? Alas, O Lord, it is a ſmall worke for thee to return; but thou ſhalt doe an infinite worke by thy returning: for thou ſhalt deliver my ſoule out of trouble, my grieved ſoule out of grievous troubles; and wilt thou not afford me ſo much kindneſſe, to doe ſo ſmall a matter, for effecting of ſo great a matter? Oh returne, O God, and deliver my ſoule, that as thou art called a deliverer, ſo I may call thee my deliverer, and may ſing with Moſes: Thou, O God, art my ſtrength, and my ſong, for thou haſt been my deliverance.
But why ſhould this be made ſo great a matter? For though in ſaying, returne, O Lord, and deliver my ſoule: I ſeeme to require of God, two ſeverall workes: one to return, and another to deliver mee; yet they are in truth but both as one: at leaſt, no more differing then the cauſe and the effect; ſeeing his very returning is it ſelfe a deliverance. The onelyonly turning his face towards mee, makes mee to ſee the light of his countenance; and no ſooner doth that light ſhine upon my ſoule, but all the clouds that darkened it, are preſently diſpelled: all the troubles that vexed my bones, are inſtantly healed. But though deliverance bee an effect of Gods returning, yet it muſt bee when hee returnes in a good moode, and not in a rebuking, or in a chaſtening diſpoſition: for if his anger continue ſtill, were it not better for mee, hee ſhould tarry away? and why then am I ſo importunate with him to returne, before I know in what termes I ſtand with him; and whether hee bee angry ſtill, or no? but it is even for this that I importune his returning, that I may bee aſſured his anger is paſt; for as long as hee is angry, hee never comes where I am; to doe that, were a greater favour then his anger can afford; but as ſoone as his anger is a little over, hee is apt of himſelfe to returne unto mee; for his delight is with the children of men, and ſpecially with thoſe that call upon him: and when he returns, his anger being over, hee uſeth to doe as the Dove did, that when the waters were a little abated, returned into the Arke, and brought the Olive branch with her in her mouth: ſo God returning, when the waters of his diſpleaſure are a little abated, brings the Olive branch of peace, and deliverance along with him.
But ſay my ſoule that God ſhould returne, and ſhould deliver thee; wouldſt thou then be quiet, and not trouble him with any more ſuits? ſhould this bee the laſt requeſt thou wouldſt make? Alas no, I have one ſuit more to make; and Thou O God, that gaveſt Abraham leave to importune thee with one ſuite after another, vouchſafe mee this favour, to make this ſuite alſo, and this indeed ſhall bee the laſt I will ever make: Save mee for thy mercies ſake. For as thy returning would bee to ſmall purpoſe if thou didſt not deliver me: ſo thy deliverance will bee to ſmall purpoſe, if thou doe not alſo ſave me. To deliver mee, and then leave me to bee ſeized upon againe, would make thee but Author imperfecti operis; leave thy worke imperfect, which cannot agree with the perfection of thy moſt perfect workmanſhip. And now, O God, if thou take pleaſure in conjunctions, be pleaſed to take pleaſure in this conjunction, not to joyne thy rebuking and thy anger together: not to joyne thy chaſtening and thy indignation together, but to joyne thy deliverance and ſalvation together: for thoſe conjunctions ſeperate us from thee, this conjunction unites us to thee: thoſe bring us to ſhipracke, this brings us into the Haven: Deliverance avoids the rocks, ſalvation ſets ſafe on ſhore. And is not this that which David meanes, when in another place hee ſaith, With thee, O God, there is plenteous redemption? It is redemption indeed, if thou but onelyonly deliver my ſoule: but it is not plenteous redemption, unleſſe beſides delivering, thou alſo ſave mee. O then bee pleaſed in thy plenteous redemption, to grant mee this conjunction of deliverance and ſalvation, that I may returne thee the conjunction of praiſe and thankſgiving; and may ſing and ſay, O Lord, I will praiſe thee: though thou waſt angry with mee, yet thine anger is turned away. Behold, God is my ſalvation, I will cruſt, and not bee afraid.
But how can God returne to deliver mee, and to ſave mee: if hee returne not a deliverer and a ſaviour? and when will this bee? O my ſoule, in how much better ſtate art thou, then David was? for hee onelyonly expected when it ſhould bee, but thou art aſſured when it was. For then was God manifeſted to returne a deliverer, and a Saviour, when the Angell brought this tidings to the ſhepherds; This day is borne to you a Saviour, of whom alſo a voice from heaven teſtified; This is my welbeloved Sonne, in whom I am well pleaſed. Oh then return to me, in this Saviour, in whom, thou art well pleaſed: that ſo I may bee ſure, for ſo I ſhall bee ſure thou wilt not chaſten me in thy diſpleaſure.
As there have beene many particular Deluges and flouds, yet but one generall: ſo there have beene many particular deliverers and ſaviours, yet but one generall: and from this generall Saviour it is that I deſire & expect ſalvation: for though his being a generall Saviour, may make him bee thought leſſe carefull of mee, having ſo many others to care for beſides: yet have no feare of that, my ſoule, ſeeing hee is as much a Saviour to mee, as if he were a Saviour to none but mee; and this generall Saviour will ſave mee generally, not only from temporall, but from ſpirituall enemies: Not onelyonly from trouble of bones, but from trouble of ſoule: Not onelyonly from miſeries here on earth, but even from miſeries, when earth it ſelfe ſhall bee no more. O happy ſalvation, when this Saviour ſhall come and ſave mee: but how may I doe to get him to come? for hee comes not but upon ſome motive. If I had all the gold of Ophir, I would willingly give it all, to get him to come and ſave mee: but, alas, I neither have it to give, nor doth he care to have it: if any thing winne him to doe it, it muſt bee for his mercies ſake, and for his mercies ſake hee will doe it, if ever hee will doe it.
But is not this ſtrange? My weakneſſe was the motive before to move God to mercy; and muſt his merciemercy now be it ſelfe the motive to move him to ſave mee? yet ſo it is: For when Gods merciemercy findes no motive from us; rather then fayle of moving, it becomes a motive to it ſelfe: and happy it is from us, that ſo it is: for elſe we might often be without it, when moſt wee need it: or rather alwaies bee without it, ſeeing wee alwaies need it. Indeed this motive, For his mercies ſake, is the Primum mobile of all motives to God, for ſhewing his favour. Hee had never delivered the Iſraelites out of Egypt, but for his mercies ſake: Hee had never ſaved Noah in the Arke, but for his mercies ſake: but above all, Hee had never ſent his Sonne to ſave the world, but for his mercies ſake: And how then can I doubt, and not rather be confident, that for his mercies ſake hee will alſo deliver my ſoule, and ſave mee. Never therefore my ſoule looke after any further motives: for upon this motive will I ſet up my reſt: His merciemercy ſhall be both my Anchor, and my harbour; it ſhall bee both my Armour, and my Fortreſſe: it ſhall be both my ranſome and my garland; it ſhall bee both my deliverance and my ſalvation.
And now, O God, thou ſeeſt the manifold troubles I am in, thou ſeeſt how weake I am; thou ſeeſt how my bones are troubled; thou ſeeſt how my ſoule is troubled; and what now can thy chaſtening hand have more of me, but onelyonly to take away my life? and even my life I would willingly make a ſacrifice to appeaſe thy diſpleaſure. Verſe 5 But alas, O Lord, what good can it bee to thee, to have mee die? Can I praiſe thee in the duſt? but can I praiſe thee when I am turned to duſt? Is there remembrance of thee in death? or is there hallowing of thy Name in the grave? As long as I have breath in my bodie, I can praiſe thy Name: unworthily indeed, but yet I can praiſe it: As long as I am numbred among the living, I can ſhew my ſelfe thy ſervant; an unprofitable one indeed, but yet a ſervant: but if my ſoule and bodie bee diſſolved once, alas, then all my ſervice of prayſing thee is at an end, I cannot then doe it, though I would; but I cannot then will it, though I ſhould: my ſoule will want her inſtruments with which thy praiſes ſhould be ſounded. O vile death, I hate thee for nothing ſo much, as for thy hindring mee in this ſervice? O cruell grave, I abhorre thee ſo much for nothing, as for thy ſtopping my mouth for this prayſing? O mercifull God, If I could but remember thee in death, I would never bee loath to die. If I could but praiſe thee in the grave, I would willingly goe to it of my ſelfe, and never bee carried to it by force: but alas, death is forgetfull, the grave is dumbe; and therefore deliver my ſoule, O God, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake.
It is not life that is ſo deare unto mee: but that in life I may praiſe thee, that art ſo deare unto mee: It is not death that is ſo frightfull to mee, but this affrights mee in death, that being dead, I cannot remember thee: It is not the grave that is ſo loathſome to mee, but that in the grave I am forced to forget thee; If death will ſpare me but to praiſe thee, let death come and never ſpare mee: If the grave will but let mee bee ſenſible of thee, the grave ſhall come and bee welcome to me; but alas, death hath no merciemercy, the grave hath no ſenſe: and therfore return, O Lord, and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake.
Who knowes not, that death is a mortall enemie to all naturall memory: and therefore makes all men at laſt to end in a Lethargie: and what hope then of remembring thee in death? Who knows not that the grave never opens its mouth to let out any thing, but ſtill to take in? and what meanes then of praiſing thee in the grave. If I could but get death to learne the Art of memory, or if I could but heare the grave to ſay once it had enough; I could then like to have ſome dealing with death, ſome traffique with the grave but alas, deaths Lethargie is incurable, the graves mouth is inſatiable; and therefore returne, O Lord, and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee for thy mercies ſake.
But doth Davids prayer tend to this, that hee may not ſee death? is this the intent of his requeſt, that hee may not deſcend into the pit? doth hee pray to bee as Enoch, or Elias, taken from the earth, without returning into earth? Alas, hee knowes this to bee either altogether impoſſible, or altogether unlikely: and therfore no likely requeſt to bee made by ſo wiſe a man. This therefore is certainely the intent of his prayer, that God will not ſo chaſten him in his indignation, as to leave him in the hands of death: but that as death receives him from life, and delivers him to the grave, ſo the grave receiving him from death, may deliver him againe to life, that as Chriſt commanded his Apoſtles to ſhake off the duſt from their feet, when they came into any unworthy houſe, and to come away; ſo hee comming into this unworthy houſe of death, the dungeon of the grave, may bee able to ſhake off the duſt from his feet, and by the power of of him that ſaid, Lazarus come forth, have his ſoule and bodie reunited againe: and ſo united, bee admitted into the quire of Saints and Angels, eternally to ſing the eternall Allelujah. For as the departing of the ſoule from the bodie, is the death of the bodie; ſo the dividing of the bodie from the ſoule, is a kinde of death to the ſouler that it is not, as it would bee, nor fully enjoyes it ſelfe, untill it can meete with the bodie, and bee united to it againe: For though it find the bodie here but a baſe cottage, or rather a loathſome priſon, yet it ſhall finde it there a glorious Palace, or rather a holy Temple conſecrated to God: and therefore untill this bee had, it will not fully be accompliſhed that is here prayed for: Returne, O God, and deliver my ſoule, ſave mee, for thy mercies ſake.
The remembrance of this, that I cannot rememember thee in death, makes mee forgetfull of my ſelfe in life: and becauſe I cannot praiſe thee, nor pray to thee in the grave, it makes me to ſigh and weepe to thee in my bed: and what I want in continuance, to ſupply with violence. Verſe 6 For I am weary with my ſighing: all the night make I my bed to ſwimme, I water my cowch with my teares. Oh let my remembring thee in life, ſupply the place of my forgetting thee in death: and when I lye in my grave ſenſleſſe and ſilent, bee pleaſed to remember how I have lyen in my bed ſighing and weeping. My ſinnes, as being diſordinate paſſions, make me undergo a paſſive pennance: and this hath beene my weakneſſe, my trouble of bones, and my trouble of ſoule: but being alſo diſordinate actions, they make mee liable alſo to doe active pennance: and what is this, but my ſighing, and my weeping? and though I cannot act ſorrow, ſo well as ſinne, yet my bed and my couch can be witneſſes of my ſorrow, as well as of my ſinne. Mine eyes indeed chiefly have done the pennance, becauſe mine eyes firſt began the offence: if mine eyes had not ſet mee firſt on fire, mine eyes had not ſhed ſuch ſhowers of teares: but now, how could burning bee quenched but with water? how burning riſing from mine eyes; but with water falling from mine eyes? But yet why ſhould my bed ſuffer? for my bed had no hand in the fault of mine eyes? but alas, how could my bed but prove a Deodand; which ſo apparently, I may ſay, did Movere ad mortem? Though my bed were not principall in the act, yet my bed was acceſſary to the fact, as receiving unlawfull and ſtollen pleaſures.
But though my ſinnes indeed bee my greateſt enemies, yet there are perſonall enemies that have their malignity alſo, which though I cannot ſay they trouble mee as ill, yet I may truely ſay, they trouble mee as well as theſe: for mine eye is conſumed becauſe of griefe, Verſe 7 and is waxen old, becauſe of all mine enemies. You may ſay perhaps that my ſighes were feigned, and that my teares were counterfeit: but the conſumption of mine eye, is a witneſſe of my ſorrow, without exception; that if my paſſive pennance before, were not cauſe ſufficient: at leaſt, my active pennance now gives mee juſt cauſe to ſay, Was ever ſorrow like my ſorrow? was ever griefe like this of mine? And all this pennance I ſuffer and doe, becauſe of mine enemies: for how could I chuſe but ſigh and weepe, to ſee the vile, the execrable dealing of mine enemies, that perſecute me in their hearts, and yet ſpeake peace with their mouthes: that lay ſhares to entrap mee, and yet beare mee in hand it ſhall be for my good: that prejudice my cauſe, as if it would never ſucceed; and prejudicate my prayers, as if they would never bee heard.
But what meanes David by this? will not his weeping make his enemies rejoyce the more? will not the ſeeing him thus dejected, make them the more inſulting over him? will they not bee readie to ſay, Is this hee that encountered a Lion, and a Beare? Hee that entred combate with a Giant, the terrour of a whole Armie; and now to fall a crying one cannot tell for what? But David is a better husband of his teares then to ſpend them idly, hee knowes for what hee ſpends them, becauſe of his enemies indeed, but not for feare of his enemies: They are neither teares of feare; for whom ſhould hee feare, that hath God on his ſide? Nor teares of vaine glory; for why then ſhould hee ſhed them in the night, when none can ſee them: Nor teares of joy; for how then ſhould they make him looke old, which is an effect of griefe: but they are tears of ſupplication, and teares of compaſſion. Firſt of ſupplication; that God will either convert them, or confound them: and not converting, then teares of compaſſion, to thinke of their confuſion. For ſuch is the tenderneſſe of a godly eye, that it hath teares to ſhed even for enemies: And when theſe two waters, the teares of ſupplication, and the teares of compaſſion meet together, what mervaile if they make a floud in Davids bed, ſeeing the concourſe of like waters made the great Deluge in the whole world? for what are his teares of ſupplication, but as the waters that roſe from the ſprings of the earth? and what are his teares of compaſſion, but as the waters that fell from the Cataracts of heaven? Or is it not perhaps that David makes his enemies here, a figure of his ſinnes, which are indeed his greateſt enemies? as alſo that hee makes his owne paſſion, a figure of Chriſts compaſſion, which was indeed one of his paſſions? for then hee wept over Ieruſalem in compaſſion of their confuſion, when with teares of ſupplication hee could not prevaile with them, in compaſſing their converſion: when they would not heare him how often hee would have gathered them together as a Hen gathereth her Chickens, with teares of ſupplication, Then they heare him ſay, There ſhall not a ſtone be left upon another, which ſhall not be caſt down, with teares of compaſſion.
I grieve not ſo much that mine eye is waxen old, though it bee waxen old with griefe, as I grieve to ſee that my enemies have no eyes at all, at leaſt, no eyes but of malice, who rejoyce at my afflictions, and make themſelves as merry with my weeping eyes, as the Philiſtims made themſelves with Sampſons blinded eyes. I grieve to ſee their deſtruction draw neere, and they laugh at my grieving, and at the oldneſſe, and alteration which griefe hath brought upon mee. And was it not ſo with my Saviour Chriſt, which made the Iewes ſay; thou art not yet fifty yeares old, as though he looked like one neere fifty, when hee was indeed not much above thirty:
But ſeeing with all my ſighing and grieving, I cannot reclaim them; I here diſclaime them: Verſe 8 Depart from mee, all ye workers of iniquitie: Away from mee, all yee that are Wolves in ſheepes cloathing: I put not away poore penitent ſinners, that do pennance for their ſins as I have done, and may rather bee ſaid to ſuffer ſinne, then to doe it; as being more of infirmity, then of will: I put away them that make iniquitie their work, and thinke it a pennance when they bee not committing of ſinne: Them that are journeymen to the trade, or rather Maſters in the myſterie, Them that vilifie my ſighes, and ſay, they are but ſutors In forma pauperis, and therefore that God ſcornes them that reproach my teares, and ſay, they are but dumbe ſolicitors, and therefore God cannot heare them: but ſee how much they are deceived: For now contrary to their hopes, and more to their wiſhes; The Lord hath heard the voice of my teares, hath heard it: and therfore does not ſcorn it; the voice of my teares, and therefore my teares are not dumbe: and where all other voices may bee doubted, whether God will heare them or no: the voice of teares, hath Gods eare, I may ſay, at command; at leaſt is never denied acceſſe unto his hearing. And this is but my firſt, and loweſt degree of comfort, for a higher then this: Verſe 9 Hee hath heard my requeſt. But what? hath God no Maſters of Requeſt about him, but is Maſter of Requeſts himſelfe? Indeed when hee would know the ſinnes of Sodome, hee tooke not information from the Angels, but came downe himſelfe to ſee: and ſhould he in perſon ſee ſinnes, and not in perſon heare prayers? And to ſhew himſelfe to be his own Maſter of requeſts indeed, he hath taken my petition into his hands; that I cannot now doubt of having my requeſt granted: ſeeing the Prince that muſt grant it, is himſelfe the Maſter of Requeſts to preſent it: and what is it to receive a ſupplication into his hands, but to receive the ſuppliant into his favour?
If hee onelyonly heard the voice of my teares; I might doubt leſt he thought them but like the teares of Eſau, and ſo ſhould ſlight them: Or if hee onelyonly heard my requeſt, I might feare leſt he thought it but like the requeſt of the mother of Zebedees ſonnes, and ſo reject it: but now that hee hath taken my ſupplication into his hands, now I may bee ſure hee meanes to doe ſomething in it: ſeeing hee never takes any thing in hand, which hee brings not to a happy and ſucceſſefull period, againſt all oppoſition. The voice of my tears brought God to caſt his eye upon mee: My requeſt brought him to bow his eare unto mee: but the taking my ſupplication into his hand, hath brought him to compaſſionate my eſtate: and ſeeing his compaſſion is active, and his pitty relieving; my teares of ſorrow may now bee turned into teares of joy, my lamentations into ſongs of thanks giving. The lamentable accent of my language, made God firſt to looke upon mee: The pittifull nature of my ſuite, made him next to liſten to mee: but the juſtneſſe of my cauſe in hand, made him laſtly, to take my petion into his hand, which is in effect to grant it out of hand.
Indeed God is with no muſicke ſo much delighted, as with that of voyces; with no voyces ſo much, as with thoſe of teares; with no teares ſo much, as with thoſe of the heart, and ſuch were mine, though ſent forth by the eies: And now, whoſe eyes would not be moved at ſo ſtrange a ſight, to heare eyes ſpeak? whoſe eares would not be moved at ſo ſtrange a hearing, to ſee tears bee a ſutour? whoſe hands would refuſe ſo ſtrange a writing, where eies, I may ſay, are the Penne, teares the Inke, and ſighes the paper? Pardon my curioſity O God, in imagining wonders, while I meditate of thee, in whom are nothing but wonders.
And what remaines now, but that my ſorrowes remove their lodging, and ſojourn with my enemies, as they have done with me: what remaines, but that my ſighes bee turned upon mine enemies breaſts, my teares upon their eyes, and that the pit they digged for me, they may fall into themſelves; and that, with the violence of falling ſuddenly. As for me, I ſhall live to ſee mine enemies turne their backs and be aſhamed: I ſhall live to ſee them hide their faces, and be confounded: but before all, and above all, I ſhall live to magnifie thy glorious Name, O God, who art bleſſed for ever.
But is Davids charity come to this, to bee turned into curſings and imprecations? Indeed no otherwiſe then God to the Serpent, when hee ſayd, Curſed art thou above all Cattell: for when men are growne into that reprobate ſenſe, that they are more like to limbes of Sathan, then to creatures after the Image of God; then it is lawfull in Gods cauſe, to take Gods courſe, and to turne them over to ſhame and confuſion. *⁎*
THE TWO AND THIRTIETH PSALME.
1 BLeſſed is hee whoſe iniquitie is forgiven, and whoſe ſinne is covered.
2 Bleſſed is the man to whom the Lord imputeth not iniquitie, and in whoſe ſpirit there is no guile.
3 When I kept ſilence my bones waxed old, through my roaring all the day long.
4 for day and night thy hand was heavie upon mee; my moyſture is turned into the drowth of Summer.
5 I acknowledged my ſinne unto thee, and mine iniquitie have I not hid: I ſaid I will confeſſe my transgreſsions unto the Lord, and thou forgaveſt the iniquitie of my ſinne.
6 For this, ſhall every one that is godly pray unto thee in a time when thou maiſt bee found: ſurely the floods of great waters ſhall not come nigh unto him.
7 Thou art my hiding place; Thou ſhalt preſerve mee from trouble; Thou ſhalt compaſſe mee about with ſongs of deliverance.
8 I will inſtruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou ſhalt go: I will fixe mine eye upon thee.
9 Be ye not as the horſe, or as the mule which have not underſtanding, whoſe mouth muſt be held in with bit and bridle, leſt they come neere unto thee.
10 Many ſorrowes ſhall bee to the wicked; but hee that truſteth in the Lord, Mercy ſhall compaſſe him about.
11 Be glad in the Lord, and reioyce ye righteous: and ſhout for ioy, all yee that are upright in heart.