The harmony of the Gospels in the holy history of the humiliation and sufferings…

Prop. 4. It would set forth his extreme sense of pain and torment which his body felt for the space of about twenty hours, to gather up a few Instances of the suffering of Soul, mind and body, that he passed through, from his entrance into the garden, until he dyed on the Cross; they were tormenting him both in body and mind all that time, without ministering unto him, that we know off, either food or rest. He suffered both loss of blood, and great pain by their twice cruel whippings, and twice crowning him with thorns, and being withal parched and burnt with heat, which made him complain, Psal. 69.3. my throat is dried, he sweat in the garden, but now his moisture is turned into the drought of Summer, Psal. 22.15. my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws, And thou hast brought me to the dust of death. All these and such like expressions se• forth his extreme ⟨p. 124⟩sense of misery, through want of relief, especially his want of supply of moisture, as being a chief sustenance, he is therefore pleased in the history to express all by that one word I thirst; all these pains are sinless punishments, which he suffered unto the uttermost extremity, until they killed him. A painful violent death he suffered.

Prop. 4. It would set forth his extream sense of pain and torment which his body felt for the space of about twenty hours, to gather up a few Instances of the su•fering of Soul, mind and body, that he passed through, from his entrance into the garden, until he dyed on the Cross; they were tormenting him both in body and mind all that time, without ministring unto him, that we know off, either food or rest. He suffered both loss of blood, and great pain by their twice cruel whippings, and twice crowning him with thorns, and being withal parched and burnt with heat, which made him complain, Psal. 69.3. my throat is dried, he sweat in the garden, but now his moisture is turned into the drought of Summer, Psal. 22.15. my strength is dried up lik a potsheard, and my tongue cleaveth to my jaws, And thou hast brought me to the dust of death. All these and such like expressions se forth his extream