_David praiseth God for his allseeing providence, and for his infinite mercies.—He defieth the wicked.—He prayeth for sincerity._ To the chief Musician. A Psalm of David. O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known _me_. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted _with_ all my ways. For _there is_ not a word in my tongue, _but_, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me. _Such_ knowledge _is_ too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot _attain_ unto it. Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I ascend up into heaven, thou _art_ there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou _art there_. _If_ I take the wings of the morning, _and_ dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light above me. Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light _are_ both alike _to thee_. For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully _and_ wonderfully made: marvellous _are_ thy works; and _that_ my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, _and_ curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all _my members_ were written, _which_ in continuance were fashioned, when _as yet there was_ none of them. How precious also are thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! _If_ I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with thee. Surely thou wilt slay the wicked, O God: depart from me, therefore, ye bloody men. For they speak against thee wickedly, _and_ thine enemies take _thy name_ in vain. Do not I hate them, O LORD, that hate thee? and am not I grieved with those that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred: I count them mine enemies. Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me, and know my thoughts: And see if _there be any_ wicked way, and lead me in the way everlasting. This is a high and glorious Psalm of thanksgiving, wherein the Psalmist, with a marvellous fervour of spirit, touches on that all-high matter,—God’s predestination of all things; and proclaims that incomprehensibleness of the divine wisdom and goodness, whereby, in a wonderful manner, he himself and all men, with all their affairs, all their works and all their thoughts, both the greatest and the least, were predestinated of God from everlasting. This manifold wisdom of God is incomprehensible to flesh and blood!