Saint Bernard his Meditations: or Sighes, sobbes, and teares, vpon our sauiours passion in memoriall of his death. Also his Motiues to mortification, with other meditations.

A Meditation, declaring the bitter and cruell crucifying of our Lord Iesus Christ, performed on Mount Caluarie. MED. XIIII.

Ʋiew here the wounds of Christ vpon thea Crosse. His head, his hands, his feet, also hisb side Bleeding amaine. Consider eke the lossec Of his deere life; What more could hed abide?

NOw blessed Iesus, and my be∣loued Sauiour, is come vnto Mount Caluarie, where he was to make the last period of all his hu∣mane miserie, by suffering a most bloudie, vile, and violent death, being cruelly nayled to that Crosse, which of late lay so hea∣uie vpon his shoulders, that his whole body did shake and tremble vnder the burthen.

Oh blessed Mountaine! happy for thy dignitie, happy for thy fer∣tilitie, because it pleased the Lord Christ to suffer vpon thee. But who shall ascend vp to the Hill of the Lord, where the Lord Iesus is crucified? Truly he that hath in∣nocent hands, and a cleane heart.

He vvhich loueth the Lord Ie∣sus, with all his heart, with all his soule, with all his strength, hee shall ascend vp to his Mountaine, and shall be crucified vvith the Lord Iesus. Hee which hath cruci∣fied his flesh, and the concupi∣scence thereof, shall be crucified and suffer with his beloued Iesus. I desire to be crucified with thee, (oh my most sweet Iesu) I long to suffer on the crosse with thee, that I may be crowned by thee, but I know that first it is needefull for mee that the world be crucified vnto mee, and I vnto the vvorld. Gal. 6.14.

But now let vs see (oh my sor∣rowfull soule) how my innocent Ie∣sus was vsed by the rough-handed and cruell hearted tormentor, when he vvas come to the place of exe∣cution, vvhere malefactors did suffer grieuous punishment for their hainous offences.

First, hauing exiled all compas∣sion and pittie from their heart, they lay hold vpon him with their bloudie and polluted hands, and then they hastily rob and disroabe him of his garments, before a rude multitude of the basest and mea∣nest of the people, yea, they strip him starke naked, that hee might appeare more vile and contempti∣ble in their eyes.

Here hast thou good cause, and iust occasion my perplexed soule, to ouer-flowe thy cheekes afresh vvith a flood of teares, and to di∣late and open thy heart, that thy heauie groanes, and sorrowfull

sighes, may haue their free pas∣sage, when thou seest thy louing Iesus stripped naked by the hands of such dogged and cruell tor∣mentors, exposed to the eyes of the pittilesse people, and extreame coldnesse and roughnesse of the weather.

Oh how was the beauty of thy excellent composed body obscu∣red with spots of bloud? how was the pure-white colour of thy skin made blacke and blew with bitter blowes, my most beautifull Iesu?

Oh how spitefull and vnappea∣sable was their indignation! how bitter was the miserie? how great, yea exceeding great was the igno∣minie of thy grieuous passion, my louing Christ, my mercifull Iesu? For so sharp was the edge of their cruelty, so eager was the malice of their hearts, and inhumanitie of their hands against thee, that thou art layde naked vpon the

Crosse, vvhen as such extremitie was not vsed, but to most wicked, vile, and abiect persons, who for their notorious crimes deserued no pittie: such was their damna∣ble impietie.

But vvhat a spring of bitter teares might arise in the vveeping eyes of thy sad and mourning Mo∣ther? vvhat sword of sorrow did pierce her tender heart, vvhen she saw her deerely-louing, and deere∣ly beloued Sonne, so roughly dis∣robed of his cloathes, and nakedly exposed to the view of the rude, base, and common people, vvho came not with relenting hearts to shew any signe of sorrow at the execution of such bloudie cruel∣tie, but rather to solace themselues, and to laugh, deride, and raile vpon thee, in this extreamest mi∣serie?

Now when those cruell tormen∣tors had speedily turned my inno∣cent

Iesus out of his cloathes, they layde his naked body vpon the Crosse, and first they nailed his in∣nocent hands, and after his bles∣sed feet, with long & strong nailes; So that the streames of bloud, spouting out of his veines, chan∣ged the hew of his Crosse, into a crimson colour. Oh what grie∣uous paine, what horrible tortures, did those wicked vvretches pro∣cure to my blessed Sauiour?

Oh vvhat infernall furie had incensed their bloudie mindes? what diuellish madnesse enraged their hearts so farre to degene∣rate from the ciuill nature of men, into the sauage nature of beasts? Oh spectacle full of sorrow! oh sight full of ruth, how grieuous vvould that pittifull sight haue beene to mine eyes, when the very Meditation of it doth so deepely wound my heart.

Though I know that the im∣maculate

Lambe was sacrificed on this woodden Altar, that he might wash and cleanse my polluted soule with his pretious bloud, take away the foule staines of my defi∣led flesh, and by suffering so vile a death on the Crosse, to deliuer me from a bitter curse, due vnto mee for my great and grieuous sinnes: Yet needes must mine eyes haue melted (like Ice) into teares, my heart haue beene consumed with sobs, and all my bowels pained with compassion, if I had beene a wofull beholder of his dolefull Passion; vnlesse mine eyes had beene more drie then a flint, my heart more hard then iron, and my bowels composed of brasse.

But indeede, vvhat riuers of streaming teares should water my cheeks? what heauy groanes, and lamentable sighes should sound out of the bottome of my heart? How should all mine affections be

drowned in the vvaues of afflicti∣ons, when I contemplate the hidi∣ous deformities of my vgly sinnes, and seriously meditate on the cru∣ell tyrannie of my trayterous transgressions, which indeed were nothing else, but cruell hands, and a hard hammer, to driue the iron∣nailes into thy blessed hands, and innocent feet, and to crash their tender bones into pieces.

Wound my soule (oh my sweet Iesu) pierce my heart, that it may streame forth blood, let nothing but mournfull sighes be pleasant vnto my vveeping eyes: let no∣thing but voices of horror and la∣mentation be delightfull vnto my dolefull eares, so that all my senses may be true mourners, to bewaile the crueltie of my sinnes, and to shew some tokens of true repen∣tance for the multitude of my transgressions, which so pittifully wounded thy sacred body, and so

grieuously vexed thy righteous soule.

Crucifie my heart, that it may die to wicked cogitations: Cru∣cifie my hands, that they may haue no power to commit euill acti∣ons: Crucifie mine eyes, that they may want light (in taking delight) to gaze vpon vvorldly vanities: Crucifie mine eares, that they may be dull and depriued of hearing, when they should listen to fruit∣lesse and friuolous words, vnsauo∣rie speeches, lasciuious, and wan∣ton discourses: Crucifie my tongue, that it may haue no mo∣tion to vtter any opposite thing to the pure Law of my God, or hurtfull to the commoditie of those which are godly and good. Crucifie my Taste, that it may not be allured with the wanton en∣ticements of delicate meates, nor so ouercome with the baytes of plea∣sant wine, that the eyes of my vn∣derstanding

be darke vvith the fumes of gluttony, or my soule be polluted, or my body defiled with filthie adulterie.

Crucifie the olde man (sinne) that hath beene my Tenant so long, and hath had his habitation in my bosome, that being dead, he may be carried out to his graue, that my soule may be infected no longer vvith his carnall impietie, and that I may no longer wilfully loue, but willingly loath, and for euer leaue his damnable com∣pany.

But now (oh my sorrowfull soule) turne thine eyes towards thy crucified Iesus, meditate seri∣ously in thy minde, & let it be the perpetuall matter of thy thoughts, to thinke how thy louing Sauiour was most pittifully martyred, and cruelly mangled, tortured vvith∣out any pittie, scorned at his death vvith vile indignitie, and

thought vnworthy of any mercy or kinde humanity, that thou mayest mourne for thy sinnes in the morning, and repent for thy misdeeds in the euening, vvhich were hard-hearted, and bloudie-handed executioners, to crucifie thy innocent Iesus.

Crie out, oh my vvretched, and vvicked soule, trembling at the vgly sight of thy grieuous sinnes, and troubled vvith the horrour of thy guiltie conscience. Cry out saying: Oh my sweet Ie∣su! oh my milde and mercifull Ie∣su! how exceeding painefull are the pangs of thy Passion? how violent are the streames of thy afflictions? how cruelly is thy bo∣dy wounded, and thy soule pressed vvith the heauie vveight of my sinnes? Oh how horrible, how detestable, how innumerable are my transgressions, that tormen∣ted my Sauiour vvith so many

heauie afflictions? What a deere price didst thou pay for my Re∣demption? At what a high rate hast thou bought me a most wret∣ched sinner? no summes of gold had it beene neuer so much, no heapes of siluer had they beene neuer so great could rid mee out of Captiuitie: It vvas onely thy pretious bloud that might pay the price of my ransome. It was one∣ly thy innocent death that vvas sufficient to purchase my free∣dome.

How is the naked body of my louing Redeemer and kinde Re∣conciler, stretched out vpon the Crosse, to deliuer mee from the bitter curse vvhich vvas due vnto me for my monstrous impiety, and the execution of it readie to be ser∣ued vpon me for my intollerable iniquitie?

How firme are thy harmelesse hands fixed vnto thy Crosse? how

hard are thy innocent feete nayled vnto it? Thou hast onely liberty to moue, but (Alas) no where to lay downe thy weake, and vvearie head. Thou liest naked, obiected to the blasts of the vvinde and storme of the weather, thou hast no cloathes to keepe thee warme, thou hast no shelter to keepe thee from harme.

Thou wert poore indeed at thy birth, but now thou art more poore at thy death: for at thy birth thou hadst a Stable for thy Chamber, and a Manger for thy Cradle: thou hadst swathling cloathes (although they vvere course) that might defend thee from colde, and cherish thy tender body. But at thy death thou art cruelly robbed of all thy garments, thou hast not so much as a ragge to lay vpon thee, the sharpnesse of the aire nippeth thy skin, the fu∣rie of the windes stormeth against

thy naked body, thou hast no roofe to couer thy head from the blustering windes: thou hast no place of harbour to protect thy body from the stormie weather: Oh how hard is the bed thou liest vpon at the houre of thy death? How hard is the pillow that lieth vnder thy head, when thou art readie to yeeld vp thy breath? How is thy blessed body debased by wretched men heere vpon the earth, which is so highly honou∣red by the Angels in Heauen? Oh how should my heart faint vvith bleeding vvounds of sorrow for my sinnes? How should mine eies make my bed to flote with a flood of teares, when I begin to call to an audit my hainous trespasses, and to cast vp the infinit summes of my transgressions, which caused my Lord to passe through such a great Campe of miseries, and to abide the bitter brunts of so many

calamities? for vvhat hadst thou done, oh my most sweet Lord? what hadst thou done, that thou should be so spitefully despised, so maliciously martired, so extreamely tortured, and so cruelly tormented? What wicked action had thy pure hands committed, nay what good deed had they omitted, that they should be so pittifully wounded? How had thy innocent feet trans∣gressed, that they should be so se∣uerely punished? How had any little particle of thy blessed body offended, that it should be so grie∣uously tormented? Truly, thy deeds, my blessed Sauiour, were alwaies acted vvith integritie, and thy words did vtter nothing but truth and sinceritie: thy hands were al∣waies cleane from sinfull actions, thy heart vvas alwaies pure from vvicked cogitations: It vvas thy meruailous loue, thy miracu∣lous mercie, thine vnspeakeable

pittie, that did induce thee to suffer those torments vvhich were due vnto me for mine offences. It was I my sweet Sauiour, it was I my selfe that had so grieuously sin∣ned: It was thy wonderfull cha∣ritie, it was thy charitable mercy, to shed thy pretious bloud, to cure the desperate disease, of my deadly miserie.

But such, oh such, and so vile is the horrible ingratitude of my minde; such, and so great, is the dulnesse of my memorie, such and so hard, is the stupiditie of my hart, that I am vnthankfull for thy mercy, forgetfull of thy bounty, senselesse without any compassi∣on, yea quite colde, without any zealous meditation of thy grie∣uous Passion.

Haue mercy vpon mee, oh my most mercifull Lord, haue mer∣cie vpon mee, Oh let the sweet dew of thy infinite mercie, distill

downe vpon my head: yea rather let it bee infused into my heart, that it may mollifie the hardnesse of mine affections, moisten the dri∣nesse of my bowels, and fructifie my minde with the fruits of thy loue because I cannot, yea rather because I am vnwilling to suffer vvith thee, and loue thee so little, vvho hath alwaies loued mee so much: for I freely confesse, I haue no sense of thy innarrable, and in∣numerable sorrowes, which thou didst suffer for the multitude of my sinnes. Alas mine eyes are dry without teares, my kinde Iesu, my heart is so dead, that it cannot breath forth any heauie groanes: mine affections are starke colde, without any heate of true deuoti∣on, so often, yea rather so seldom, as I enter into a meditation of thy bitter Passion, and ruminate thy tedious paines and terrible pangs vvhich thou didst feele in thy

most pretious body, to reuerse the sentence of damnation pronounced against me for my sinnes, and to purchase a gratious pardon for my condemned soule.

But pardon me, forgiue me my most mercifull Lord, I haue a hart of Iron, my bowels are more hard then Marble, vnlesse thou mollifie them, they are vnapt to receiue any print of thy mercie, or any impression of thy grace.

Take away from mee I pray thee my stonie heart, giue mee a fleshie and tender heart, that may be vvounded vvith the thornes of sorrowe for my rebellious thoughts, yeeld forth dolefull groanes for my grieuous sins, and bleed vvith the vvounds of com∣punction, when my minde doth meditate on thy heauy Passion.

Oh why should not my heart, my vvretched heart, be pinched with some paine for the loue of

thee, vvhich didst vvillingly vouchsafe to die for the loue of me? Wherefore haue the sparks of my loue lien so long couered in the embers? Or rather why are they almost extinguished? Oh what se∣uere punishment should I take of my selfe, for my monstrous ingra∣titude? How is my tongue able to vtter one word, yea one sillable of a word, to excuse the coldnesse of my loue? How may I blush, nay how may my face be confounded with shame vvhich am so vvay∣ward, and vnwilling to suffer any little affliction for thy sake, who endured so many extreame tor∣ments for my sinne? I lie on fea∣ther-beds, couered vvarme vvith cloathes, and thou didst lie na∣ked, nailed to a woodden Crosse, and that in the time of colde wea∣ther, vvhen others doe vvarme themselues at a fire.

If my head begin to ake, I lay

it downe vpon a soft pillow, to ease my paine, & lessen my griefe: But thou oh my louing Lord, hast not so much as a bolster of straw vvhereon thou mightest lay thy dying head, pierced with sharpe thornes, and bleeding vvith many wounds.

When I am sicke, my friends about mee bestirre themselues to ease my diseased body, and to re∣uiue my fainting spirits. But alas (my sweet Sauiour) there vvas none about thee at the houre of thy pittifull and painefull death, vvhich vvould proffer thee any kinde deede, no, not so much as a comfortable word.

They offer thee bitter vvine mixed with mirrhe, and mingled with Gall. But although thy thirst was great, caused by the extremi∣tie of thy paines, and immoderate effusion of thy blood, yet vvhen thou hadst tasted of it, thou didst

refuse to drinke of their bitter potion.

How hard were their harts? yea how dead, without any feeling of common compassion, that could giue vnto my sweet Sauiour no better then such a bitter Potion?

Such was the succour that they would afford thee at the houre of thy death: This was the best Cor∣diall they would giue thee a little before the parting of thy breath.

What iust occasion hadst thou my mercifull Redeemer? yea, what admirable patience hadst thou, that thou didst not bitterly in∣ueigh against the bloudie Gen∣tiles, and vnbeleeuing Iewes, who were so maliciously madded, and bloudily minded against thee, that all vvhich they sought, and all which they wrought, was to aug∣ment thy sorrow?

But whilst their hearts were in∣flamed with malice against thee,

and their hands labouring to cru∣cifie thee, thou wert so farre from accusing them for their sauadge cruelty, that thou didst pray vn∣to thy heauenly Father, that hee would remit and forgiue their ini∣quity, saying: Father pardon them, because they know not what they doe. Luk. 23.34.

And this oh my sweet Christ, vvas the first vvords vvhich thou spakest vpon thy bitter Crosse: Indeede they knew thee not, for their eyes were blinded that they could not see, and their hearts were hardned that they could not vnderstand.

Heere maist thou meditate (oh my soule) with exceeding comfort vpon the wonderfull patience, ad∣mirable mercy, & sweet words of thy louing Sauiour, who was not so much grieued with paine of his owne afflictions, as hee was earnest to pray for the remission of their

sinnes. Hee did not once open his mouth, to make any iust Apologie, for his owne innocencie, nor to denounce any deserued maledi∣ction: No, not one bitter vvord a∣gainst them, for their dogged cru∣elty. But in the extremest pangs of his bitter Passion, his tender heart was moued vvith pittifull com∣passion towards them, he opened the fountaine of his mercy, that the sweet streames of his Benedicti∣on might flow vpon them. Hee blessed them that cursed him, hee shewed them a true token of his entire loue, for their cruell hate, he prayed for them as if they had been his dearest friends, when in∣deed they were his deadly foes.

How should my feeble tongue, like a trumpet (oh my bountifull Iesu) sound forth the wonderfull worthinesse of thy surmounting mercy? How should mine vnable and barren hart, conceiue the dig∣nitie

of thine vncomparable meeknesse? How should the weake sight of my darke vnderstanding pierce into the hidden mysteries of thy gratious mildnesse, vvhich surpasseth all vnderstanding.

How affable and ineffable is the sweetnesse of thy charitable pray∣er? how bottomlesse is the depth of thy clemencie? how vnex∣haustible is the treasure of thy be∣nignitie?

How large and spacious, yea how infinit are the bounds of thy mercie? For with what tranquili∣ty of minde? with what piety and pittie of heart? with what sweet, milde, and perswasiue words didst thou sue for their pardon, vvho now were breathing out nothing else but curses against thee, vvith their malicious tongues, and euen now acting the extremity of their Tyrannie against thee with their bloudie hands?

Thou wert not discouraged by their iniuries, thou wert not hard∣ned with their reproches: thou didst not rebuke them for their euill words: thou didst not check them for their wicked deeds: thou didst seeke to salue their soares, who gaue thee deadly wounds: thou diddest make intercession for their life, who cruelly put thee to death: thou wert full of pitty to∣wards them, whose hearts were empty of all compassion towards thee. Oh with what wonderfull mildnes of mind, with what great deuotion of spirit, in what abun∣dance of loue didst thou cry, Fa∣ther, forgiue them? Oh wonderfull worke of thy worthy mercy! oh rare and memorable example of exceeding pitty! oh perfect pat∣terne of excellent charity! oh let me poore wretched sinner, taste the sweetnes of this hony, reuiue my dying heart with this cordiall

compassion, relieue my sicke soule with this comfortable confection. Cry out so for me, my sweet Lord, and kinde Mediator: commend my wofull case, and pleade my cause vnto thy Father, saying, Fa∣ther forgiue him.

For in truth, I know not what I do: loue of the world hath blin∣ded mine eyes, desire of carnall pleasures, is rooted in my heart, and all manner of wanton vanities are rife in my minde: I runne headlong in the broad way of de∣struction: I cannot finde the nar∣row path, which leadeth to Sal∣uation.

Open mine eyes (oh Lord) that I may see to walke in thy wayes, and direct my feet, that I may tread in thy pathes.

Teach mee to follow the pat∣terne of thy excellent patience, so that I may not wish well onely to my dearest friends, which dearely

loue mee, but also pray for my cruell enemies, who deadly hate mee.

But alas, how soone am I dis∣pleased? how long is it before I will forgiue, if I be once offended? I am prone with enuious Cain, to stain my hands with horrible mur∣der. I long for a day with rough Esau, wherein I may slay my inno∣cent brother. I oftentimes fall out with my friend for a crosse word, so that oftentimes in requitall, I seeke to doe him a mischieuous deed: I thinke my selfe the worse when I see him: Oh how doe I disdaine to speake vnto him?

Teach mee to learne this hard lesson of patience: purge the seed of malice out of my mind, mellow the ground of my heart vvith the deaw of thy graces, that it may not onely be tender, to giue my beloued poore Friends, but that it may also be pliable to forgiue my

hatefull Foes: seeing that thou wert not so much touched with the sense of thy owne afflictions, (and no doubt the paines of them were most grieuous vnto thee) as thou wert mooued with zeale to pray for thy bloody enemies, when they made a prey of thy garments, and cast lots for thy vn∣seamed vesture, Ioh. 19.24.

Now though Pilate gaue wrong∣full iudgement against thee, to take away thy innocent life, yet he seemed to honour thee at the houre of thy death, when hee wrote on the Crosse, Iesus of Na∣zareth, King of the Iewes, Matt. 27.37. Mar. 15.26. Luk. 23.38. Iohn 19.19. It pleased him to intitle thee a King by name, but alas, hee had no such conceit of thee in his secret thoughts. But indeed thou wert worthy of a far more hono∣rable Title, being not onely King of the Iewes, but also of the Gen∣tiles:

Yea, Creator and Gouernor of euery creature.

Neuerthelesse, thou didst not clothe thy selfe with the vesture of our Humanitie, that thou shouldst be honoured with any worldly dignity.

It was thy chiefest honor to do the will of thy heauenly Father; Ioh. 14.31. thou camest not to de∣priue Herod of his Kingdome, nor to gather any forces to deliuer the Iewes, as they fondly dreamed of their Messias, & vainely expected at the comming of their King.

Thou camest to deliuer the peo∣ple from the Captiuity of their sinnes, and by shedding thy preti∣ous blood to saue their soules. Graunt me oh my sweet Sauiour, that I may set open the dore of my heart, that thou mayest enter, which art the true King of glory, and that I may stil desire (althogh I am vnable) to shew my selfe a

louing and loyall subiect to re∣ceiue thee.

Send thy holy spirit, as a Har∣benger before thee, to giue mee warning of thy comming, and then I shall be prepared to enter∣taine my gratious Soueraigne; with humility of minde, and tokens of sincere loue.

I long (oh my King) for thy comming, for I am assured if thou vouchsafe to enter into my cottage, thou wilt bestow such a royall gift vpon mee, that I shall beginne to disdaine the pompe of the vvorld, and ac∣count nothing so deare vnto mee as thy loue.

Oh would my louing Sauiour would imbrace mee betweene his blessed armes! Oh I vvish to liue, I long to die betwixt thy louing imbracements: thy armes vvere stretched out on the Crosse, as if thou wert ready to receiue any pe∣nitent

sinner, refuse not to receiue me a wretched sinner, who woun∣ded with the horror of my sinnes, doe come vnto thee as my Physi∣tion, who is only able and willing to heale my wounds. Let thy pre∣tious blood stoppe the bloody is∣sue of my sinnes: thy mercy, and nothing but thy mercy can cure my malady: that one, and that alone, is all my remedy.

Graunt mee (oh my sweet Iesu) that I may bee able to say vvith thine Apostle, I am crucified with thee. Crucifie my wanton flesh with the nayles of thy feare: mortifie my rebellious thoghts with dread of thy Iustice, and Meditation of thy iudgements. Let it be the ioy of my hart: let it be the daily exer∣cise of my minde: let it be the ob∣iect of all my thoughts to thinke on my Lord Iesus, and him cru∣cified.

I cannot wonder enough, thogh

I neuer cease to wonder at thee, my Iesu, my Sauiour, and my Re∣deemer: yet let me neuer cease to maruaile at the wonderfull worke of thy Passion, which thou didst so patiently suffer, that by thy in∣nocent death, thou mightest can∣cell the obligation of our infinite debt, & affixe it to thy Crosse, that thou mightest deliuer vs poore and miserable wretches, from the danger of the curse, which was gone out against vs: Oh how can my meditations attaine to the length of thy admirable loue? how can my cogitations measure the bredth of thy clemency? how should my deepest imaginations diue into the depth of thy mercy?

My eye is too dimme, to per∣ceiue the beauty, my eare is too dull, to heare the greatnesse, my hart is too grosse, to conceiue the goodnes, my taste is too weake, to rellish the sweetnes, my tongue is

too feeble, to declare the worthi∣nes of thy loue: no words, be they neuer so many, can expresse the quantity, no eloquence, be it neuer so excellent, can relate the quality.

Oh with what humility of minde, with what exceeding pati∣ence, with what kinde and tender affections didst thou suffer the ex∣treamest pangs of thy bitter affli∣ctions?

How is my minde amazed with the bright beames of thy loue? How are all my thoughts con∣founded with the greatnes of thy clemency?

How is my soule rauished with the goodnes of thy mercy? What did mooue thee, oh my sweet Sa∣uiour, but thy vnspeakeable loue? what did induce thee, but thy in∣comparable mercy, to pay so deere a price for my Redemption?

Oh let the remembrance of thy infinite bounty neuer depart out

of my minde: Let all my affecti∣ons be inflamed with the fire of thy loue: Let the sweetnesse and greatnesse of thy mercies be my chiefest Meditations: Mortifie my disobedient cogitations with thy feare, and crucifie my rebellious actions on thy Crosse: that although sinne must dwell and remaine in mee, yet it may not raigne and rule ouer mee.

Notes

• a

  Luk. 23.33.
• b

  Ioh. 19.33.
• c

  Luk. 23.46.
• d

  Ioh. 19.30.