Often tymes haue I with the broken couenaunte. And partly for that my poore sowle was to moche fed with euyll breade or dāpnable doctryne of hypocrytes, I despysed such socoure and ghostly physyck in Gods worde as wolde haue holpe me. And if I had bene wyllynge to loke for it yet knewe I at that tyme no teachers cōuenyent. For there is neyther man, saynte, nor Angell, for whome the harte of a synner without thy sprete wyll change. Alas good Iesus, thu beholdynge my blyndenesse, and that at my neade I coulde haue no socour of men, dedyst open the waye of my saluacyon. O how great is the goodnesse, and how inestymable the swetnesse whych thu hast shewed therin? Is there any father so naturall to the daughter or brother to the syster, whych wolde euer haue done as he hath done? For he came into the helle to socour my sowle, where agaynst hys wyll she was, intendynge to haue peryshed, because she ded not loue. [Sidenote: 1. Ioā. 3.] [Sidenote: Ioā. 5.] [Sidenote: Ephe. 3.] Alas swete lorde thu hast loued her yea, to the very outshedynge of thy most precyouse bloude. O charyte feruent and incōparable. Not slacke art thu in loue that so louest euery synner, yea, and also thyne enemyes, not only in forgeuynge their offences, but also in geuynge thy selfe for their saluacyon, lybertie, and delyueraunce, to the death, crosse, trauayle, payne and sufferaunce. Whan I cast in mynde, what shulde be the occasyō of thy loue towardes me. I can se nothynge els but a loue wonderfull, whych moueth the to geue me that I can not deserue. Than my God as farre fourth as I can se, I ought to geue no thākes for my saluacyon but only vnto the, to whome I owe the prayse ther of, as to hym whych is my sauyour & creatoure. What a thynge is it that thu hast done so moche for me? Thu art not only contented to haue forgyuen me my synnes, but also hast gyuē vnto me the ryght fortunate gifte of grace. [Sidenote: Roma. [unreadable].] [Sidenote: Math. 12.] For it shulde suffyse me, I cōmynge out of suche a daunger, to be lyke a straunger vsed. But thu dost handle my sowle, (if I durst so saye it) as a mother, daughter, syster and wyfe. I lorde, I am the trespaser whych am not worthy to come nere the dore of thy ryght hygh place to aske breade, where thy dwellynge is. O what grace is thys, that so sodenly thu vouchesauyst to drawe my sowle in to suche hyghnesse, that she felyth her selfe ruler of my bodye. She poore, ignoraunte and lame, doth fynde her selfe wyth the, ryche, wyse, and stronge, because thu hast written in her harte the roote of thy sprete, & holy worde, geuynge her true fayth for to receyue it. Whych thynge made her to conceyue thy sonne, in beleuynge hym to be man, God, sauyour, and also the true remytter of synnes. Therfor dost thu assure her, that she is mother to thy sonne of whom thu art the only faither. [Sidenote: Phil. 2.] [Sidenote: Gene. 1.]