All sorts of birds fly in the firmament:
Some great, some small, all of a divers kind,
Mine eye affecting, pleasant to my mind.
Look how they tumble in the wholesome air,
Above the world of worldlings, and their care.
And as they divers are in bulk and hue,
So are they in their way of flying too.
So many birds, so many various things
Tumbling i' the element upon their wings.
Comparison.
These birds are emblems of those men that shall
Ere long possess the heavens, their all in all.
They are each of a diverse shape and kind,
To teach we of all nations there shall find.
They are some great, some little, as we see,
To show some great, some small, in glory be.[17]
Their flying diversely, as we behold,
Do show saints' joys will there be manifold;
Some glide, some mount, some flutter, and some do,
In a mix'd way of flying, glory too.
And all to show each saint, to his content,
Shall roll and tumble in that firmament.
VI.
UPON THE LORD'S PRAYER.
Our Father which in heaven art,
Thy name be always hallowed;
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done;
Thy heavenly path be followed
By us on earth as 'tis with thee,
We humbly pray;
And let our bread us given be,
From day to day.
Forgive our debts as we forgive
Those that to us indebted are:
Into temptation lead us not,[18]
But save us from the wicked snare.
The kingdom's thine, the power too,
We thee adore;
The glory also shall be thine
For evermore.
VII.
MEDITATIONS UPON PEEP OF DAY.
I oft, though it be peep of day, don't know
Whether 'tis night, whether 'tis day or no.
I fancy that I see a little light,
But cannot yet distinguish day from night;
I hope, I doubt, but steady yet I be not,
I am not at a point, the sun I see not.
Thus 'tis with such who grace but now[19] possest,
They know not yet if they be cursed or blest.
VIII.
UPON THE FLINT IN THE WATER.
This flint, time out of mind, has there abode,
Where crystal streams make their continual road.
Yet it abides a flint as much as 'twere
Before it touched the water, or came there
Its hard obdurateness is not abated,
'Tis not at all by water penetrated.
Though water hath a soft'ning virtue in't,
This stone it can't dissolve, for 'tis a flint.
Yea, though it in the water doth remain,
It doth its fiery nature still retain.
If you oppose it with its opposite,
At you, yea, in your face, its fire 'twill spit.
Comparison.
This flint an emblem is of those that lie,
Like stones, under the Word, until they die.
Its crystal streams have not their nature changed,
They are not, from their lusts, by grace estranged.
IX.
UPON THE FISH IN THE WATER.
1.
The water is the fish's element;
Take her from thence, none can her death prevent;
And some have said, who have transgressors been,
As good not be, as to be kept from sin.
2.
The water is the fish's element:
Leave her but there, and she is well content.
So's he, who in the path of life doth plod,
Take all, says he, let me but have my God.
3.
The water is the fish's element,
Her sportings there to her are excellent;
So is God's service unto holy men,
They are not in their element till then.
X.
UPON THE SWALLOW.
This pretty bird, O! how she flies and sings,[20]
But could she do so if she had not wings?
Her wings bespeak my faith, her songs my peace;
When I believe and sing my doubtings cease.
XI.
UPON THE BEE.
The bee goes out, and honey home doth bring,
And some who seek that honey find a sting.
Now would'st thou have the honey, and be free
From stinging, in the first place kill the bee.
Comparison.
This bee an emblem truly is of sin,
Whose sweet, unto a many, death hath been.
Now would'st have sweet from sin and yet not die,
Do thou it, in the first place, mortify.
XII.
UPON A LOWERING MORNING.
Well, with the day I see the clouds appear,
And mix the light with darkness everywhere;
This threatening is, to travellers that go
Long journeys, slabby rain they'll have, or snow.
Else, while I gaze, the sun doth with his beams
Belace the clouds, as 'twere with bloody streams;
This done, they suddenly do watery grow,
And weep, and pour their tears out where they go.
Comparison.
Thus 'tis when gospel light doth usher in
To us both sense of grace and sense of sin;
Yea, when it makes sin red with Christ's blood,
Then we can weep till weeping does us good.
XIII.
UPON OVER-MUCH NICENESS.
'Tis much to see how over nice some are
About the body and household affair,
While what's of worth they slightly pass it by,
Not doing, or doing it slovenly.
Their house must be well furnished, be in print,[21]
Meanwhile their soul lies ley,[22] has no good in't.
Its outside also they must beautify,
When in it there's scarce common honesty.
Their bodies they must have tricked up and trim,
Their inside full of filth up to the brim.
Upon their clothes there must not be a spot,
But is their lives more than one common blot.
How nice, how coy are some about their diet,
That can their crying souls with hogs'-meat quiet.
All drest must to a hair be, else 'tis naught,
While of the living bread they have no thought.
Thus for their outside they are clean and nice,
While their poor inside stinks with sin and vice.
XIV.
MEDITATIONS UPON A CANDLE.
Man's like a candle in a candlestick,
Made up of tallow and a little wick;
And as the candle when it is not lighted,
So is he who is in his sins benighted.
Nor can a man his soul with grace inspire,
More than can candles set themselves on fire.
Candles receive their light from what they are not;
Men grace from Him for whom at first they care not.
We manage candles when they take the fire;
God men, when he with grace doth them inspire.
And biggest candles give the better light,
As grace on biggest sinners shines most bright.
The candle shines to make another see,
A saint unto his neighbour light should be.
The blinking candle we do much despise,
Saints dim of light are high in no man's eyes.
Again, though it may seem to some a riddle,
We use to light our candles at the middle.[23]
True light doth at the candle's end appear,
And grace the heart first reaches by the ear.
But 'tis the wick the fire doth kindle on,
As 'tis the heart that grace first works upon.
Thus both do fasten upon what's the main,
And so their life and vigour do maintain.
The tallow makes the wick yield to the fire,
And sinful flesh doth make the soul desire
That grace may kindle on it, in it burn;
So evil makes the soul from evil turn.[24]
But candles in the wind are apt to flare,
And Christians, in a tempest, to despair.
The flame also with smoke attended is,
And in our holy lives there's much amiss.
Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy,
And lusts do seek our graces to destroy.
What brackish is will make a candle sputter;
'Twixt sin and grace there's oft' a heavy clutter.
Sometimes the light burns dim, 'cause of the snuff,
Sometimes it is blown quite out with a puff;
But watchfulness preventeth both these evils,
Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils.
Nor let not snuffs nor puffs make us to doubt,
Our candles may be lighted, though puffed out.
The candle in the night doth all excel,
Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well.
So is the Christian in our hemisphere,
Whose light shows others how their course to steer.
When candles are put out, all's in confusion;
Where Christians are not, devils make intrusion.
Then happy are they who such candles have,
All others dwell in darkness and the grave.
But candles that do blink within the socket,
And saints, whose eyes are always in their pocket,
Are much alike; such candles make us fumble,
And at such saints good men and bad do stumble.[25]
Good candles don't offend, except sore eyes,
Nor hurt, unless it be the silly flies.
Thus none like burning candles in the night,
Nor ought[26] to holy living for delight.
But let us draw towards the candle's end:
The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend,
As grace man's life until his glass is run,
And so the candle and the man is done.
The man now lays him down upon his bed,
The wick yields up its fire, and so is dead.
The candle now extinct is, but the man
By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand.
XV.
UPON THE SACRAMENTS.
Two sacraments I do believe there be,
Baptism and the Supper of the Lord;
Both mysteries divine, which do to me,
By God's appointment, benefit afford.
But shall they be my God, or shall I have
Of them so foul and impious a thought,
To think that from the curse they can me save?
Bread, wine, nor water, me no ransom bought.[27]
XVI.
UPON THE SUN'S REFLECTION UPON THE CLOUDS
IN A FAIR MORNING.
Look yonder, ah! methinks mine eyes do see
Clouds edged with silver, as fine garments be;
They look as if they saw that golden face
That makes black clouds most beautiful with grace.
Unto the saints' sweet incense, or their prayer,
These smoky curdled clouds I do compare.
For as these clouds seem edged, or laced with gold,
Their prayers return with blessings manifold.
XVII.
UPON APPAREL.
God gave us clothes to hide our nakedness,
And we by them do it expose to view.
Our pride and unclean minds to an excess,
By our apparel, we to others show.[28]
XVIII.
THE SINNER AND THE SPIDER.
Sinner.
What black, what ugly crawling thing art thou?
Spider.
I am a spider-------------
Sinner.
A spider, ay, also a filthy creature.
Spider.
Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.
My name entailed is to my creation,
My features from the God of thy salvation.
Sinner.
I am a man, and in God's image made,
I have a soul shall neither die nor fade,
God has possessed me[29] with human reason,
Speak not against me lest thou speakest treason.
For if I am the image of my Maker,
Of slanders laid on me He is partaker.
Spider.
I know thou art a creature far above me,
Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.
But though thy God hath made thee such a creature,
Thou hast against him often played the traitor.
Thy sin has fetched thee down: leave off to boast;
Nature thou hast defiled, God's image lost.
Yea, thou thyself a very beast hast made,
And art become like grass, which soon doth fade.
Thy soul, thy reason, yea, thy spotless state,
Sin has subjected to th' most dreadful fate.
But I retain my primitive condition,
I've all but what I lost by thy ambition.
Sinner.
Thou venomed thing, I know not what to call thee,
The dregs of nature surely did befall thee,
Thou wast made of the dross and scum of all,
Man hates thee; doth, in scorn, thee spider call.
Spider.
My venom's good for something, 'cause God made it,
Thy sin hath spoiled thy nature, doth degrade it.
Of human virtues, therefore, though I fear thee,
I will not, though I might, despise and jeer thee.
Thou say'st I am the very dregs of nature,
Thy sin's the spawn of devils, 'tis no creature.
Thou say'st man hates me 'cause I am a spider,
Poor man, thou at thy God art a derider;
My venom tendeth to my preservation,
Thy pleasing follies work out thy damnation.
Poor man, I keep the rules of my creation,
Thy sin has cast thee headlong from thy station.
I hurt nobody willingly, but thou
Art a self-murderer; thou know'st not how
To do what good is; no, thou lovest evil;
Thou fliest God's law, adherest to the devil.[30]
Sinner.
Ill-shaped creature, there's antipathy
'Twixt man and spiders, 'tis in vain to lie;
I hate thee, stand off, if thou dost come nigh me,
I'll crush thee with my foot; I do defy thee.
Spider.
They are ill-shaped, who warped are by sin,
Antipathy in thee hath long time been
To God; no marvel, then, if me, his creature,
Thou dost defy, pretending name and feature.
But why stand off? My presence shall not throng thee,
'Tis not my venom, but thy sin doth wrong thee.
Come, I will teach thee wisdom, do but hear me,
I was made for thy profit, do not fear me.
But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to,
What can the swallow, ant, or spider do?
Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected,
Sometimes great things by small means are effected.
Hark, then, though man is noble by creation,
He's lapsed now to such degeneration,
Is so besotted and so careless grown,
As not to grieve though he has overthrown
Himself, and brought to bondage everything
Created, from the spider to the king.
This we poor sensitives do feel and see;
For subject to the curse you made us be.
Tread not upon me, neither from me go;
'Tis man which has brought all the world to woe,
The law of my creation bids me teach thee;
I will not for thy pride to God impeach thee.
I spin, I weave, and all to let thee see,
Thy best performances but cobwebs be.
Thy glory now is brought to such an ebb,
It doth not much excel the spider's web;
My webs becoming snares and traps for flies,
Do set the wiles of hell before thine eyes;
Their tangling nature is to let thee see,
Thy sins too of a tangling nature be.
My den, or hole, for that 'tis bottomless,
Doth of damnation show the lastingness.
My lying quiet until the fly is catch'd,
Shows secretly hell hath thy ruin hatch'd.
In that I on her seize, when she is taken,
I show who gathers whom God hath forsaken.
The fly lies buzzing in my web to tell
Thee how the sinners roar and howl in hell.
Now, since I show thee all these mysteries,
How canst thou hate me, or me scandalize?
Sinner.
Well, well; I no more will be a derider,
I did not look for such things from a spider.
Spider.
Come, hold thy peace; what I have yet to say,
If heeded, help thee may another day.
Since I an ugly ven'mous creature be,
There is some semblance 'twixt vile man and me.
My wild and heedless runnings are like those
Whose ways to ruin do their souls expose.
Daylight is not my time, I work in th' night,
To show they are like me who hate the light.
The maid sweeps one web down, I make another,
To show how heedless ones convictions smother;
My web is no defence at all to me,
Nor will false hopes at judgment be to thee.
Sinner.
O spider, I have heard thee, and do wonder
A spider should thus lighten and thus thunder.
Spider.
Do but hold still, and I will let thee see
Yet in my ways more mysteries there be.
Shall not I do thee good, if I thee tell,
I show to thee a four-fold way to hell;
For, since I set my web in sundry places,
I show men go to hell in divers traces.
One I set in the window, that I might
Show some go down to hell with gospel light.
One I set in a corner, as you see,
To show how some in secret snared be.
Gross webs great store I set in darksome places,
To show how many sin with brazen faces;
Another web I set aloft on high,
To show there's some professing men must die.
Thus in my ways God wisdom doth conceal,
And by my ways that wisdom doth reveal.
I hide myself when I for flies do wait,
So doth the devil when he lays his bait;
If I do fear the losing of my prey,
I stir me, and more snares upon her lay:
This way and that her wings and legs I tie,
That, sure as she is catch'd, so she must die.
But if I see she's like to get away,
Then with my venom I her journey stay.
All which my ways the devil imitates
To catch men, 'cause he their salvation hates.
Sinner.
O spider, thou delight'st me with thy skill!
I pr'ythee spit this venom at me still.
Spider.
I am a spider, yet I can possess
The palace of a king, where happiness
So much abounds. Nor when I do go thither,
Do they ask what, or whence I come, or whither
I make my hasty travels; no, not they;
They let me pass, and I go on my way.
I seize the palace,[31] do with hands take hold
Of doors, of locks, or bolts; yea, I am bold,
When in, to clamber up unto the throne,
And to possess it, as if 'twere mine own.
Nor is there any law forbidding me
Here to abide, or in this palace be.
Yea, if I please, I do the highest stories
Ascend, there sit, and so behold the glories
Myself is compassed with, as if I were
One of the chiefest courtiers that be there.
Here lords and ladies do come round about me,
With grave demeanour, nor do any flout me
For this, my brave adventure, no, not they;
They come, they go, but leave me there to stay.
Now, my reproacher, I do by all this
Show how thou may'st possess thyself of bliss:
Thou art worse than a spider, but take hold
On Christ the door, thou shalt not be controll'd.
By him do thou the heavenly palace enter;
None chide thee will for this thy brave adventure;
Approach thou then unto the very throne,
There speak thy mind, fear not, the day's thine own;
Nor saint, nor angel, will thee stop or stay,
But rather tumble blocks out of the way.
My venom stops not me; let not thy vice
Stop thee; possess thyself of paradise.
Go on, I say, although thou be a sinner,
Learn to be bold in faith, of me a spinner.
This is the way the glories to possess,
And to enjoy what no man can express.
Sometimes I find the palace door uplock'd,
And so my entrance thither has upblock'd.
But am I daunted? No, I here and there
Do feel and search; so if I anywhere,
At any chink or crevice, find my way,
I crowd, I press for passage, make no stay.
And so through difficulty I attain
The palace; yea, the throne where princes reign.
I crowd sometimes, as if I'd burst in sunder;
And art thou crushed with striving, do not wonder.
Some scarce get in, and yet indeed they enter;
Knock, for they nothing have, that nothing venture.
Nor will the King himself throw dirt on thee,
As thou hast cast reproaches upon me.
He will not hate thee, O thou foul backslider!
As thou didst me, because I am a spider.
Now, to conclude since I such doctrine bring,
Slight me no more, call me not ugly thing.
God wisdom hath unto the piss-ant given,
And spiders may teach men the way to heaven.
Sinner.
Well, my good spider, I my errors see,
I was a fool for railing upon thee.
Thy nature, venom, and thy fearful hue,
Both show that sinners are, and what they do.
Thy way and works do also darkly tell,
How some men go to heaven, and some to hell.
Thou art my monitor, I am a fool;
They learn may, that to spiders go to school.
XIX.
MEDITATIONS UPON THE DAY BEFORE THE SUN-
RISING.
But all this while, where's he whose golden rays
Drives night away and beautifies our days?
Where's he whose goodly face doth warm and heal,
And show us what the darksome nights conceal?
Where's he that thaws our ice, drives cold away?
Let's have him, or we care not for the day.
Thus 'tis with who partakers are of grace,
There's nought to them like their Redeemer's face.
XX.
OF THE MOLE IN THE GROUND.
The mole's a creature very smooth and slick,
She digs i' th' dirt, but 'twill not on her stick;
So's he who counts this world his greatest gains,
Yet nothing gets but's labour for his pains.
Earth's the mole's element, she can't abide
To be above ground, dirt heaps are her pride;
And he is like her who the worldling plays,
He imitates her in her work and ways.
Poor silly mole, that thou should'st love to be
Where thou nor sun, nor moon, nor stars can see.
But O! how silly's he who doth not care
So he gets earth, to have of heaven a share!
XXI.
OF THE CUCKOO.
Thou booby, say'st thou nothing but Cuckoo?
The robin and the wren can thee outdo.
They to us play through their little throats,
Taking not one, but sundry pretty taking notes.
But thou hast fellows, some like thee can do
Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.
Thy notes do not first welcome in our spring,
Nor dost thou its first tokens to us bring.
Birds less than thee by far, like prophets, do
Tell us, 'tis coming, though not by Cuckoo.
Nor dost thou summer have away with thee,
Though thou a yawling bawling Cuckoo be.
When thou dost cease among us to appear,
Then doth our harvest bravely crown our year.
But thou hast fellows, some like thee can do
Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.
Since Cuckoos forward not our early spring,
Nor help with notes to bring our harvest in;
And since, while here, she only makes a noise,
So pleasing unto none as girls and boys,
The Formalist we may compare her to,
For he doth suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.
XXII.
OF THE BOY AND BUTTERFLY.
Behold how eager this our little boy
Is for this Butterfly, as if all joy,
All profits, honours, yea, and lasting pleasures,
Were wrapt up in her, or the richest treasures,
Found in her, would be bundled up together,
When all her all is lighter than a feather.
He halloos, runs, and cries out, Here, boys, here,
Nor doth he brambles or the nettles fear.
He stumbles at the mole-hills, up he gets,
And runs again, as one bereft of wits;
And all this labour and this large outcry,
Is only for a silly butterfly.
Comparison.
This little boy an emblem is of those
Whose hearts are wholly at the world's dispose,
The butterfly doth represent to me,
The world's best things at best but fading be.
All are but painted nothings and false joys,
Like this poor butterfly to these our boys.
His running through nettles, thorns, and briars,
To gratify his boyish fond desires;
His tumbling over mole-hills to attain
His end, namely, his butterfly to gain;
Doth plainly show what hazards some men run.
To get what will be lost as soon as won.
Men seem in choice, than children far more wise,
Because they run not after butterflies;
When yet, alas! for what are empty toys,
They follow children, like to beardless boys.[32]
XXIII.
OF THE FLY AT THE CANDLE.
What ails this fly thus desperately to enter
A combat with the candle? Will she venture
To clash at light? Away, thou silly fly;
Thus doing thou wilt burn thy wings and die.
But 'tis a folly her advice to give,
She'll kill the candle, or she will not live.
Slap, says she, at it; then she makes retreat,
So wheels about, and doth her blows repeat.
Nor doth the candle let her quite escape,
But gives some little check unto the ape:
Throws up her heels it doth, so down she falls,
Where she lies sprawling, and for succour calls.
When she recovers, up she gets again,
And at the candle comes with might and main,
But now behold, the candle takes the fly,
And holds her, till she doth by burning die.
Comparison.
This candle is an emblem of that light
Our gospel gives in this our darksome night.
The fly a lively picture is of those
That hate and do this gospel light oppose.
At last the gospel doth become their snare,
Doth them with burning hands in pieces tear.[33]
XXIV.
ON THE RISING OF THE SUN.
Look, look, brave Sol doth peep up from beneath,
Shows us his golden face, doth on us breathe;
He also doth compass us round with glories,
Whilst he ascends up to his highest stories.
Where he his banner over us displays,
And gives us light to see our works and ways.
Nor are we now, as at the peep of light,
To question, is it day, or is it night?
The night is gone, the shadows fled away,
And we now most sure are that it is day.
Our eyes behold it, and our hearts believe it;
Nor can the wit of man in this deceive it.
And thus it is when Jesus shows his face,
And doth assure us of his love and grace.
XXV.
UPON THE PROMISING FRUITFULNESS OF A TREE.
A comely sight indeed it is to see
A world of blossoms on an apple-tree:
Yet far more comely would this tree appear,
If all its dainty blooms young apples were.
But how much more might one upon it see,
If all would hang there till they ripe should be.
But most of all in beauty 'twould abound,
If then none worm-eaten should there be found.
But we, alas! do commonly behold
Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold.
They too, which hang till they young apples are,
By blasting winds and vermin take despair,
Store that do hang, while almost ripe, we see
By blust'ring winds are shaken from the tree,
So that of many, only some there be,
That grow till they come to maturity.
Comparison.
This tree a perfect emblem is of those
Which God doth plant, which in his garden grows,
Its blasted blooms are motions unto good,
Which chill affections do nip in the bud.
Those little apples which yet blasted are,
Show some good purposes, no good fruits bear.
Those spoiled by vermin are to let us see,
How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.
Those which the wind blows down, while they are green,
Show good works have by trials spoiled been.
Those that abide, while ripe upon the tree,
Show, in a good man, some ripe fruit will be.
Behold then how abortive some fruits are,
Which at the first most promising appear.
The frost, the wind, the worm, with time doth show,
There flows, from much appearance, works but few.
XXVI.
UPON THE THIEF.
The thief, when he doth steal, thinks he doth gain;
Yet then the greatest loss he doth sustain.
Come, thief, tell me thy gains, but do not falter.
When summ'd, what comes it to more than the halter?
Perhaps, thou'lt say, The halter I defy;
So thou may'st say, yet by the halter die.
Thou'lt say, Then there's an end; no, pr'ythee, hold,
He was no friend of thine that thee so told.
Hear thou the Word of God, that will thee tell,
Without repentance thieves must go to hell.
But should it be as thy false prophet says,
Yet nought but loss doth come by thievish ways.
All honest men will flee thy company,
Thou liv'st a rogue, and so a rogue will die.
Innocent boldness thou hast none at all,
Thy inward thoughts do thee a villain call.
Sometimes when thou liest warmly on thy bed,
Thou art like one unto the gallows led.
Fear, as a constable, breaks in upon thee,
Thou art as if the town was up to stone thee.
If hogs do grunt, or silly rats do rustle,
Thou art in consternation, think'st a bustle
By men about the door, is made to take thee,
And all because good conscience doth forsake thee.
Thy case is most deplorably so bad,
Thou shunn'st to think on't, lest thou should'st be mad.
Thou art beset with mischiefs every way,
The gallows groaneth for thee every day.
Wherefore, I pr'ythee, thief, thy theft forbear,
Consult thy safety, pr'ythee, have a care.
If once thy head be got within the noose,
'Twill be too late a longer life to choose.
As to the penitent thou readest of,
What's that to them who at repentance scoff.
Nor is that grace at thy command or power,
That thou should'st put it off till the last hour.
I pr'ythee, thief, think on't, and turn betime;
Few go to life who do the gallows climb.
XXVII.
OF THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD AT THE BUSH.
My little bird, how canst thou sit
And sing amidst so many thorns?
Let me a hold upon thee get,
My love with honour thee adorns.
Thou art at present little worth,
Five farthings none will give for thee,
But pr'ythee, little bird, come forth,
Thou of more value art to me.
'Tis true it is sunshine to-day,
To-morrow birds will have a storm;
My pretty one come thou away,
My bosom then shall keep thee warm.
Thou subject are to cold o'nights,
When darkness is thy covering;
At days thy danger's great by kites,
How can'st thou then sit there and sing?
Thy food is scarce and scanty too,
'Tis worms and trash which thou dost eat;
Thy present state I pity do,
Come, I'll provide thee better meat.
I'll feed thee with white bread and milk,
And sugar plums, if them thou crave.
I'll cover thee with finest silk,
That from the cold I may thee save.
My father's palace shall be thine,
Yea, in it thou shalt sit and sing;
My little bird, if thou'lt be mine,
The whole year round shall be thy spring.
I'll teach thee all the notes at court,
Unthought-of music thou shalt play;
And all that thither do resort,
Shall praise thee for it every day.
I'll keep thee safe from cat and cur,
No manner o' harm shall come to thee;
Yea, I will be thy succourer,
My bosom shall thy cabin be.
But lo, behold, the bird is gone;
These charmings would not make her yield;
The child's left at the bush alone,
The bird flies yonder o'er the field.
Comparison.
This child of Christ an emblem is,
The bird to sinners I compare,
The thorns are like those sins of his
Which do surround him everywhere.
Her songs, her food, and sunshine day,
Are emblems of those foolish toys,
Which to destruction lead the way,
The fruit of worldly, empty joys.
The arguments this child doth choose
To draw to him a bird thus wild,
Shows Christ familiar speech doth use
To make's to him be reconciled.
The bird in that she takes her wing,
To speed her from him after all,
Shows us vain man loves any thing
Much better than the heavenly call.
XXVIII.
OF MOSES AND HIS WIFE.
This Moses was a fair and comely man,
His wife a swarthy Ethiopian;
Nor did his milk-white bosom change her sin.
She came out thence as black as she went in.
Now Moses was a type of Moses' law,
His wife likewise of one that never saw
Another way unto eternal life;
There's mystery, then, in Moses and his wife.
The law is very holy, just, and good,
And to it is espoused all flesh and blood;
But this its goodness it cannot bestow
On any that are wedded thereunto.
Therefore as Moses' wife came swarthy in,
And went out from him without change of skin,
So he that doth the law for life adore,
Shall yet by it be left a black-a-more.
XXIX.
OF THE ROSE-BUSH.
This homely bush doth to mine eyes expose
A very fair, yea, comely ruddy rose.
This rose doth also bow its head to me,
Saying, Come, pluck me, I thy rose will be;
Yet offer I to gather rose or bud,
Ten to one but the bush will have my blood.
This looks like a trapan,[34] or a decoy,
To offer, and yet snap, who would enjoy;
Yea, the more eager on't, the more in danger,
Be he the master of it, or a stranger.
Bush, why dost bear a rose if none must have it.
Who dost expose it, yet claw those that crave it?
Art become freakish? dost the wanton play,
Or doth thy testy humour tend its way?
Comparison.
This rose God's Son is, with his ruddy looks.
But what's the bush, whose pricks, like tenter-hooks,
Do scratch and claw the finest lady's hands,
Or rend her clothes, if she too near it stands?
This bush an emblem is of Adam's race,
Of which Christ came, when he his Father's grace
Commended to us in his crimson blood,
While he in sinners' stead and nature stood.
Thus Adam's race did bear this dainty rose,
And doth the same to Adam's race expose;
But those of Adam's race which at it catch,
Adam's race will them prick, and claw, and scratch.
XXX.
OF THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN.
What, hast thou run thy race, art going down?
Thou seemest angry, why dost on us frown?
Yea, wrap thy head with clouds and hide thy face,
As threatening to withdraw from us thy grace?
O leave us not! When once thou hid'st thy head,
Our horizon with darkness will be spread.
Tell who hath thee offended, turn again.
Alas! too late, intreaties are in vain.
Comparison.
Our gospel has had here a summer's day,
But in its sunshine we, like fools, did play;
Or else fall out, and with each other wrangle,
And did, instead of work, not much but jangle.
And if our sun seems angry, hides his face,
Shall it go down, shall night possess this place?
Let not the voice of night birds us afflict,
And of our misspent summer us convict.[35]
XXXI.
UPON THE FROG.
The frog by nature is both damp and cold,
Her mouth is large, her belly much will hold;
She sits somewhat ascending, loves to be
Croaking in gardens, though unpleasantly.
Comparison.
The hypocrite is like unto this frog,
As like as is the puppy to the dog.
He is of nature cold, his mouth is wide
To prate, and at true goodness to deride.
He mounts his head as if he was above
The world, when yet 'tis that which has his love.
And though he seeks in churches for to croak,
He neither loveth Jesus nor his yoke.
XXXII.
UPON THE WHIPPING OF A TOP.
'Tis with the whip the boy sets up the top,
The whip makes it run round upon its toe;
The whip makes it hither and thither hop:
'Tis with the whip the top is made to go.
Comparison.
Our legalist is like unto this top,
Without a whip he doth not duty do;
Let Moses whip him, he will skip and hop;
Forbear to whip, he'll neither stand nor go.
XXXIII.
UPON THE PISMIRE.
Must we unto the pismire go to school,
To learn of her in summer to provide
For winter next ensuing. Man's a fool,
Or silly ants would not be made his guide.
But, sluggard, is it not a shame for thee
To be outdone by pismires? Pr'ythee hear:
Their works, too, will thy condemnation be
When at the judgment-seat thou shalt appear.
But since thy God doth bid thee to her go,
Obey, her ways consider, and be wise;
The piss-ant tell thee will what thou must do,
And set the way to life before thine eyes.
XXXIV.
UPON THE BEGGAR.
He wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty,
They within doors do him an alms deny.
He doth repeat and aggravate his grief,
But they repulse him, give him no relief.
He begs, they say, Begone; he will not hear,
But coughs, sighs, and makes signs he still is there;
They disregard him, he repeats his groans;
They still say nay, and he himself bemoans.
They grow more rugged, they call him vagrant;
He cries the shriller, trumpets out his want.
At last, when they perceive he'll take no nay,
An alms they give him without more delay.
Comparison.
This beggar doth resemble them that pray
To God for mercy, and will take no nay,
But wait, and count that all his hard gainsays
Are nothing else but fatherly delays;
Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry:
There's nothing like to importunity.
XXXV.
UPON THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER.
There's one rides very sagely on the road,
Showing that he affects the gravest mode.
Another rides tantivy, or full trot,
To show much gravity he matters not.
Lo, here comes one amain, he rides full speed,
Hedge, ditch, nor miry bog, he doth not heed.
One claws it up-hill without stop or check,
Another down as if he'd break his neck.
Now every horse has his especial guider;
Then by his going you may know the rider.
Comparison.
Now let us turn our horse into a man,
His rider to a spirit, if we can.
Then let us, by the methods of the guider,
Tell every horse how he should know his rider.
Some go, as men, direct in a right way,
Nor are they suffered to go astray;
As with a bridle they are governed,
And kept from paths which lead unto the dead.
Now this good man has his especial guider,
Then by his going let him know his rider.
Some go as if they did not greatly care,
Whether of heaven or hell they should be heir.
The rein, it seems, is laid upon their neck,
They seem to go their way without a check.
Now this man too has his especial guider,
And by his going he may know his rider.
Some again run as if resolved to die,
Body and soul, to all eternity.
Good counsel they by no means can abide;
They'll have their course whatever them betide.
Now these poor men have their especial guider,
Were they not fools they soon might know their rider.
There's one makes head against all godliness,
Those too, that do profess it, he'll distress;
He'll taunt and flout if goodness doth appear,
And at its countenancers mock and jeer.
Now this man, too, has his especial guider,
And by his going he might know his rider.
XXXVI.
UPON THE SIGHT OF A POUND OF CANDLES
FALLING TO THE GROUND.
But be the candles down, and scattered too,
Some lying here, some there? What shall we do?
Hold, light the candle there that stands on high,
It you may find the other candles by.
Light that, I say, and so take up the pound
You did let fall and scatter on the ground.
Comparison.
The fallen candles do us intimate
The bulk of God's elect in their laps'd state;
Their lying scattered in the dark may be
To show, by man's lapsed state, his misery.
The candle that was taken down and lighted,
Thereby to find them fallen and benighted,
Is Jesus Christ; God, by his light, doth gather
Who he will save, and be unto a Father.
XXXVII.
UPON A PENNY LOAF.
Thy price one penny is in time of plenty,
In famine doubled, 'tis from one to twenty.
Yea, no man knows what price on thee to set
When there is but one penny loaf to get.
Comparison.
This loaf's an emblem of the Word of God,
A thing of low esteem before the rod
Of famine smites the soul with fear of death,
But then it is our all, our life, our breath.[36]
XXXVIII.
THE BOY AND WATCHMAKER.
This watch my father did on me bestow,
A golden one it is, but 'twill not go,
Unless it be at an uncertainty:
But as good none as one to tell a lie.
When 'tis high day my hand will stand at nine;
I think there's no man's watch so bad as mine.
Sometimes 'tis sullen, 'twill not go at all,
And yet 'twas never broke nor had a fall.
Watchmaker.
Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill
May fail to do according to your will.
Suppose the balance, wheels, and springs be good,
And all things else, unless you understood
To manage it, as watches ought to be,
Your watch will still be at uncertainty.
Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dust,
Yea, wind it also duly up you must?
Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring;
You must be circumspect in every thing,
Or else your watch, were it as good again,
Would not with time and tide you entertain.
Comparison.
This boy an emblem is of a convert,
His watch of the work of grace within his heart,
The watchmaker is Jesus Christ our Lord,
His counsel, the directions of his Word;
Then convert, if thy heart be out of frame,
Of this watchmaker learn to mend the same.
Do not lay ope' thy heart to worldly dust,
Nor let thy graces over-grow with rust,
Be oft' renewed in the' spirit of thy mind,
Or else uncertain thou thy watch wilt find.
XXXIX.
UPON A LOOKING-GLASS.
In this see thou thy beauty, hast thou any,
Or thy defects, should they be few or many.
Thou may'st, too, here thy spots and freckles see,
Hast thou but eyes, and what their numbers be.
But art thou blind? There is no looking-glass
Can show thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.
Comparison.
Unto this glass we may compare the Word,
For that to man advantage doth afford
(Has he a mind to know himself and state),
To see what will be his eternal fate.
But without eyes, alas! how can he see?
Many that seem to look here, blind men be.
This is the reason they so often read
Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread.
XL.
OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST.
The love of Christ, poor I! may touch upon;
But 'tis unsearchable. O! there is none
Its large dimensions can comprehend
Should they dilate thereon world without end.
When we had sinned, in his zeal he sware,
That he upon his back our sins would bear.
And since unto sin is entailed death,
He vowed for our sins he'd lose his breath.
He did not only say, vow, or resolve,
But to astonishment did so involve
Himself in man's distress and misery,
As for, and with him, both to live and die.
To his eternal fame in sacred story,
We find that he did lay aside his glory,
Stepped from the throne of highest dignity,
Became poor man, did in a manger lie;
Yea, was beholden unto his for bread,
Had, of his own, not where to lay his head;
Though rich, he did for us become thus poor,
That he might make us rich for evermore.
Nor was this but the least of what he did,
But the outside of what he suffered?
God made his blessed son under the law,
Under the curse, which, like the lion's paw,
Did rent and tear his soul for mankind's sin,
More than if we for it in hell had been.
His cries, his tears, and bloody agony,
The nature of his death doth testify.
Nor did he of constraint himself thus give,
For sin, to death, that man might with him live.
He did do what he did most willingly,
He sung, and gave God thanks, that he must die.
But do kings use to die for captive slaves?
Yet we were such when Jesus died to save's.
Yea, when he made himself a sacrifice,
It was that he might save his enemies.
And though he was provoked to retract
His blest resolves for such so good an act,
By the abusive carriages of those
That did both him, his love, and grace oppose;
Yet he, as unconcerned with such things,
Goes on, determines to make captives kings;
Yea, many of his murderers he takes
Into his favour, and them princes makes.
XLI.
ON THE CACKLING OF A HEN.
The hen, so soon as she an egg doth lay,
(Spreads the fame of her doing what she may.)
About the yard she cackling now doth go,
To tell what 'twas she at her nest did do.
Just thus it is with some professing men,
If they do ought that good is, like our hen
They can but cackle on't where e'er they go,
What their right hand doth their left hand must know.
XLII.
UPON AN HOUR-GLASS.
This glass, when made, was, by the workman's skill,
The sum of sixty minutes to fulfil.
Time, more nor less, by it will out be spun,
But just an hour, and then the glass is run.
Man's life we will compare unto this glass,
The number of his months he cannot pass;
But when he has accomplished his day,
He, like a vapour, vanisheth away.
XLIII.
UPON A SNAIL.
She goes but softly, but she goeth sure,
She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do.
Her journey's shorter, so she may endure
Better than they which do much farther go.
She makes no noise, but stilly seizeth on
The flower or herb appointed for her food,
The which she quietly doth feed upon
While others range and glare, but find no good.
And though she doth but very softly go,
However, 'tis not fast nor slow, but sure;
And certainly they that do travel so,
The prize they do aim at they do procure.
Comparison.
Although they seem not much to stir, less go,
For Christ that hunger, or from wrath that flee,
Yet what they seek for quickly they come to,
Though it doth seem the farthest off to be.
One act of faith doth bring them to that flower
They so long for, that they may eat and live,
Which, to attain, is not in others power,
Though for it a king's ransom they would give.
Then let none faint, nor be at all dismayed
That life by Christ do seek, they shall not fail
To have it; let them nothing be afraid;
The herb and flower are eaten by the snail.[37]
XLIV.
OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST.
Who's this that cometh from the wilderness,
Like smokey pillars thus perfum'd with myrrh,
Leaning upon her dearest in distress,
Led into's bosom by the Comforter?
She's clothed with the sun, crowned with twelve stars,
The spotted moon her footstool she hath made.
The dragon her assaults, fills her with jars,
Yet rests she under her Beloved's shade,
But whence was she? what is her pedigree?
Was not her father a poor Amorite?
What was her mother but as others be,
A poor, a wretched, and a sinful Hittite.
Yea, as for her, the day that she was born,
As loathsome, out of doors they did her cast;
Naked and filthy, stinking and forlorn;
This was her pedigree from first to last.
Nor was she pitied in this estate,
All let her lie polluted in her blood:
None her condition did commiserate,
There was no heart that sought to do her good.
Yet she unto these ornaments is come,
Her breasts are fashioned, her hair is grown;
She is made heiress of the best kingdom;
All her indignities away are blown.
Cast out she was, but now she home is taken,
Naked (sometimes), but now, you see, she's cloth'd;
Now made the darling, though before forsaken,
Barefoot, but now as princes' daughters shod.
Instead of filth, she now has her perfumes;
Instead of ignominy, her chains of gold:
Instead of what the beauty most consumes,
Her beauty's perfect, lovely to behold.
Those that attend and wait upon her be
Princes of honour, clothed in white array;
Upon her head's a crown of gold, and she
Eats wheat, honey, and oil, from day to day.
For her beloved, he's the high'st of all,
The only Potentate, the King of kings:
Angels and men do him Jehovah call,
And from him life and glory always springs.
He's white and ruddy, and of all the chief:
His head, his locks, his eyes, his hands, and feet,
Do, for completeness, out-go all belief;
His cheeks like flowers are, his mouth most sweet.
As for his wealth, he is made heir of all;
What is in heaven, what is on earth is his:
And he this lady his joint-heir doth call,
Of all that shall be, or at present is.
Well, lady, well, God has been good to thee;
Thou of an outcast, now art made a queen.
Few, or none, may with thee compared be,
A beggar made thus high is seldom seen.
Take heed of pride, remember what thou art
By nature, though thou hast in grace a share,
Thou in thyself dost yet retain a part
Of thine own filthiness; wherefore beware.
XLV.
UPON A SKILFUL PLAYER OF AN INSTRUMENT.
He that can play well on an instrument,
Will take the ear, and captivate the mind
With mirth or sadness; for that it is bent
Thereto, as music in it place doth find.
But if one hears that hath therein no skill,
(As often music lights of such a chance)
Of its brave notes they soon be weary will:
And there are some can neither sing nor dance.
Comparison.
Unto him that thus skilfully doth play,
God doth compare a gospel-minister,
That rightly preacheth, and doth godly pray,
Applying truly what doth thence infer.
This man, whether of wrath or grace he preach,
So skilfully doth handle every word;
And by his saying doth the heart so reach,
That it doth joy or sigh before the Lord.
But some there be, which, as the brute, doth lie
Under the Word, without the least advance
Godward; such do despise the ministry;
They weep not at it, neither to it dance.
XLVI.
OF MAN BY NATURE.
From God he's a backslider,
Of ways he loves the wider;
With wickedness a sider,
More venom than a spider.
In sin he's a considerer,
A make-bate and divider;
Blind reason is his guider,
The devil is his rider.
XLVII.
UPON THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD.
Children become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel,
And to delight in paths that lead to hell.
Their parents' love and care they overlook,
As if relation had them quite forsook.
They take the counsels of the wanton's, rather
Than the most grave instructions of a father.
They reckon parents ought to do for them,
Though they the fifth commandment do contemn;
They snap and snarl if parents them control,
Though but in things most hurtful to the soul.
They reckon they are masters, and that we
Who parents are, should to them subject be!
If parents fain would have a hand in choosing,
The children have a heart will in refusing.
They'll by wrong doings, under parents gather,
And say it is no sin to rob a father.
They'll jostle parents out of place and power,
They'll make themselves the head, and them devour.
How many children, by becoming head,
Have brought their parents to a piece of bread!
Thus they who, at the first, were parents joy,
Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy.
But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite
Thy aged parents, for that great delight
They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay
In their indulgent bosoms day by day?
Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth,
Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth.
Thy father glad was at his very heart,
Had he to thee a portion to impart.
Comfort they promised themselves in thee,
But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be.
How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep,
If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep.
Their love to thee was such they could have giv'n,
That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav'n.
But now, behold how they rewarded are!
For their indulgent love and tender care;
All is forgot, this love he doth despise.
They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.
XLVIII.
UPON A SHEET OF WHITE PAPER.
This subject is unto the foulest pen,
Or fairest handled by the sons of men.
'Twill also show what is upon it writ,
Be it wisely, or nonsense for want of wit,
Each blot and blur it also will expose
To thy next readers, be they friends or foes.
Comparison.
Some souls are like unto this blank or sheet,
Though not in whiteness. The next man they meet,
If wise or fool, debauched or deluder,
Or what you will, the dangerous intruder
May write thereon, to cause that man to err
In doctrine or in life, with blot and blur.
Nor will that soul conceal from who observes,
But show how foul it is, wherein it swerves.
A reading man may know who was the writer,
And, by the hellish nonsense, the inditer.
XLIX.
UPON FIRE.
Who falls into the fire shall burn with heat;
While those remote scorn from it to retreat.
Yea, while those in it, cry out, O! I burn,
Some farther off those cries to laughter turn.
Comparison.
While some tormented are in hell for sin;
On earth some greatly do delight therein.
Yea, while some make it echo with their cry,
Others count it a fable and a lie.[38]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Bunyan's poem in the Holy War.
[2] On the leaf following the title to One Thing is Needful, &c.,
by John Bunyan, 1688. A rare little 32mo, published by the author,
in possession of the Editor.
[3] At the end of Grace Abounding, the sixth edition, and also in
The Work of Jesus Christ as an Advocate, by Bunyan, 1688.
[4] Advertised in the eighth edition of Solomon's Temple Spiritualized.
[5] In Youth Directed and Instructed--a curious little book for
children.
[6] Square 24mo., by Bennet, Gurney, and others, without date.
[7] Sturt engraved the Book of Common Prayer; some French artists
elegantly etched two of their devotional books; and Pyne engraved
the texts of Horace and Virgil with beautiful vignettes.
[8] Altered to 'huge' in the Emblems, 1724.
[9] A familiar phrase, denoting persons who have been always frivolous
and childish, or those who have passed into second childhood. 'On
the shelf' is a common saying of ladies when they are too old to
get married.--Ed.
[10] The name of a bird that mimics gestures.--Ed.
[11] Indelible, as when raw material is dyed before it is wove,
every grain receives the dye.--Ed.
[12] For this use of the word 'handle,' see Jeremiah 2:8. 'They
that handle the law.'--Ed.
[13] This word, with pismire and emmet, has become obsolete. 'Ant'
is the term now universally used.--Ed.
[14] See Psalm 84:3; Leviticus 11:16; Numbers 20.
[15] A machine used in the manufacture of cloth, on which it is
stretched.--Ed.
[16] Spiders being venomous was a vulgar error, universally believed,
until modern discoveries have proved the contrary, excepting a
few foreign species.--Ed.
[17] This is a scriptural idea of the inhabitants of heaven.
Revelation 11:8, saints 'small and great.' Matthew 19:28: 'The Son
of man on his throne, and the twelve apostles on their thrones.'
Revelation 4:10: 'Four and twenty elders on their thrones.'
Revelation 5:11: 'An innumerable company of worshippers.'--Ed.
[18] In an ancient battledore or horn-book, and in one of Henry
VIII's primers, both in the editor's possession, this sentence is
translated--'And let us not be led into temptation.'--Ed.
[19] When divine light first dawns upon the soul, and reveals sin,
O how difficult is it to conclude that sin is pardoned, and the
sinner blest!--Ed.
[20] The swallow is remarkably swift in flight; 'their note is a
slight twittering, which they seldom if ever exert but upon the
wing.'--Goldsmith's Natural History.--Ed.
[21] 'Be in print'; a proverbial expression, to show order and
regularity; like type in print.--Ed.
[22] 'Ley'; barren or fallow, uncultivated, generally spelt lea.--Ed.
[23] This riddle is solved in the fourth line following. The light
of the fear and love of God begins in the middle of our bodily
frame, with the heart. Bunyan's love of religious riddles is seen
in the second part of the Pilgrimage, when Christian is resting
at the house of Gaius.--Ed.
[24] Convictions of sin make the soul turn from sin.--Ed.
[25] This character is admirably drawn in the second part of the
Pilgrim's Progress--Mr. Brisk, a suitor to Mercy.--Ed.
[26] Preterite of the verb 'to save,' from the Saxon agan, to be
held or bound by moral obligation.--Imperial Dictionary.--Ed.
[27] What folly, nay, madness, for man to pretend to make God of
a little flour, or to rely for forgiveness of sin on a wafer, a
bit of bread, or a little wine or water. How degraded is he that
pretends to believe such palpable absurdities.--Ed.
[28] This is one of Bunyan's keen, shrewd, home thrusts. Clothes
professedly made to hide what they studiously display!!--Ed.
[29] Possessed me with, or has given me possession of.--Ed.
[30] Man's sinfulness, by nature and practice, justly, but awfully
described.--Mason.
[31] See Proverbs 30:20, and Pilgrim's Progress. There is also a
very striking allusion to the subject of this emblem, in Bunyan's
Light in Darkness.
[32] He who, in riper years, seeks happiness in sensual gratification,
is a child in understanding: he only changes his toys.--Ed.
[33] 'To the one, a savour of death unto death; and to the other,
a savour of life unto life' (2 Cor 2:16).
[34] 'Trapan' is the Saxon verb to ensnare, modernized to trap.--Ed.
[35] How agonizing will be the cry of the lost soul--'The harvest
is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved' (Jer 8:20).--Ed.
Upon the brittle thread of life hang everlasting things.--Mason.
[36] When the Word of God dwells in us richly in all wisdom, then
will the peace of God rule in our hearts, and we shall be sweetly
inclined to every good thought, word, and work.--Ed.
[37] If the crawling snail finds food, wherefore do ye doubt, O!
ye of little faith.--Ed.
[38] Fools make a mock at sin. The scorner occupies a proud,
an elevated seat, which will sink under him, and crush him down
to everlasting destruction. The threatenings and promises of God
stand sure for ever.--Ed
***
THE STRUGGLER;
CONTAINING
THE CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER IN WHICH MR. BUNYAN'S BOOKS WERE PUBLISHED,
AND THE NUMBER OF EDITIONS THEY PASSED THROUGH DURING HIS LIFE.
THIRTY REASONS WHY CHRISTIAN PEOPLE SHOULD PROMOTE THEIR CIRCULATION,
AND THE STRUGGLER FOR THE PRESERVATION OF THESE LABOURS.--PUBLISHED
IN 1691.
BY CHARLES DOE, ONE OF MR. BUNYAN'S PERSONAL FRIENDS.
A CATALOGUE-TABLE OF MR. BUNYAN'S BOOKS.
AND
THEIR SUCCESSION IN PUBLISHING, MOST ACCORDING TO HIS OWN RECKONING.
Note.--Those that are in Italic letter are them that compose
the first folio: And the rest are intended, when time serves,
for a second folio.[1]
1. Gospel truths opened, 1656
2. A vindication of that [sm. 4to] 1657
3. Sighs from Hell (9 Impressions), [1650]
4. The 2 Covenants Law and Grace
5. I will pray with the Spirit, 1663
6. A map of salvation, &c., [A broadside]
7. The four last things (3 Impressions),
8. Mount Ebal and Gerizim,
9. Prison Meditations,
10. The Holy City, &c., 1665
11. The Resurrection, &c., 1665
12. Grace Abounding (6 Impressions), [1666]
13. Justification by Jesus Christ, [sm. 4to] 1671
14. Confession of Faith, &c., 1672
15. Difference in Judgment, &c., 1673
16. Peaceable principles, &c., 1674
17. Election and Reprobation, &c., [sm. 4to] [No date]
18. Light for them in Darkness,
19. Christian Behaviour (4 Impressions),
20. Instructions for the Ignorant, 1675
21. Saved by Grace,
22. The Strait-Gate, 1676
23. The Pilgrim's Progress (12 Impressions), [1678]
24. The Fear of God, 1679
25. Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ (4 Impressions)
26. The Holy War (3 Impressions) 1682
27. The Barren Fig Tree,
28. The Greatness of the Soul, &c., [1683]
29. A case of Conscience of prayer, [sm. 4to] [1683]
30. Advice to Sufferers, 1684
31. The 2d pt. Pilgrim's Progress (3 Impressions), [1684]
32. Life and Death of Mr. Badman,[2] [1680]
33. Holy Life the beauty of Christianity,
34. The Pharisee and Publican, 1685
35. A caution against Sin, [a sheet] [1684]
36. Meditations on 74 things,
37. The first-day Sabbath, 1685
38. The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, 1688
39. Jesus Christ an advocate, 1688
40. The House of God, 1688
41. The Water of Life, 1688
42. Solomon's Temple Spiritualized, [1688]
43. The Excell. of a broken heart, [1689]
44. His last Sermon at London, 1688
Twelve Manuscripts part of the first folio 1692
45. Exposit. on 10 first chap. of Genesis,
46. Justification by Imputed Righteousness,
47. Paul's departure and crown,
48. Of the Trinity and a Christian,
49. Of the Law and a Christian,
50. Israel's Hope encouraged,
51. Desires of the righteous granted,
52. The unsearchable riches of Christ,
53. Christ Compleat Saviour in's Interest,
54. Saint's Knowledge of Christ's love,
55. House of the Forest of Lebanon,
56. A description of Antichirst,
Four Manuscripts yet unprinted.
57. A Christian Dialogue.[3]
58. The Heavenly Footman.[4]
59. A Pocket Concordance.[3]
60. An Account of his Imprisonment.[5]
Here's sixty pieces of his labours, and he was sixty years of age.
He was born at Elstow, nigh Bedford, about 1628. And about 1652
was, by irresistible grace, converted: and in 1660 he had preached
five years, and then, for that, was thrown into Bedford Gaol; and
in 1671 was called to the pastoral office at Bedford, being the
11th of his twelve years and an half's imprisonment; and died at
London, Aug. 31, 1688.
[Where the date is in brackets it is supplied from original copies
in the Editor's possession.]
REASONS
WHY CHRISTIAN PEOPLE SHOULD PROMOTE BY SUBSCRIPTIONS THE PRINTING
IN FOLIO THE LABOURS OF MR. JOHN BUNYAN, LATE MINISTER OF THE
GOSPEL, AND PASTOR OF THE CONGREGATION AT BEDFORD.
I. He was a very able and excellent minister of the gospel; viz.,
able to express himself, and had excellent matter known to all
Christians that have heard him preach.
II. He became thus able and excellent a minister by a great degree
of Gospel Grace bestowed upon his own soul, more than probable for
that very end; for that God wrought him from a very great profane
sinner, and an illiterate poor man, to this profound understanding
the true or genuine spiritual meaning of the Scriptures, whereby
he could experimentally preach to souls with power, and affection,
and apostolical learning, the true nature of the gospel.
III. God's bestowing such great grace, to turn so great a sinner,
to make such a great gospel labourer, and thrust him into his
harvest, argues there was great need, and therefore without question
his labours ought to be preserved.
IV. Our Bunyan being so graciously, by the Lord of the harvest,
thrust into labour, clearly shows to us, (and may by this preservation
to future ages), that God is not bound to human means of learned
education (though learning may be useful in its place), but can,
when he will, make a minister of the gospel without man's forecast
of education, and in spite of all the men in the world that would
oppose it, though it be above sixteen hundred years after the
apostles.
V. Many thousands had the soul benefit and comfort of his ministry
to astonishment, as if an angel or an apostle had touched their
souls with a coal of holy fire from the altar.
VI. This excellent operation of the special grace of God in him,
and the gift of utterance when he preached, confounded the wisdom
of his adversaries that heard him, or heard of him, he being, as
it is commonly called, unlearned, or had not school education.
VII. For all these reasons before-mentioned, of the spirituality
of his preaching, his labours in writing deserve preservation by
printing as much as any other famous man's that have writ since
the apostles' time.
VIII. Moreover he hath been a Christian sufferer for above twelve
years, by imprisonment, whereby he sealed to the truth he preached.
IX. Yet, for all that imprisonment, he preached then, and there,
and afterwards abroad, as a faithful labourer for the salvation
of souls.
X. And he was not a man that preached by way of bargain for money,
for he hath refused a more plentiful income to keep his station.
XI. And his moderation, or desire of money, was as the apostle
Paul's practice, below his privilege; so that he did not, when he
died, leave much wealth to his family.
XII. And the Church that wants such a pastor may find it long
before they get one, and therefore ought to respect our Bunyan's
labours.
XIII. If God had not put it into the heart of some Christians or
Church to preserve the Epistles of the Apostle to the Romans,
Corinthians, Galatians, and others, we in this age of the world
should in all probability never have known that there ever were
any such Christians and doctrines; their names and doctrines might
have been lost, and we might have perished, and that would have
been dreadful; for God mostly works by second causes.
XIV. And why should any Christian people, that have reason to reckon
themselves obliged herein, set themselves aside from communicating
to other Christians and the ages to come the gospel labours of
so eminent a minister as God so graciously honoured and assisted
them with?
XV. And if these labours (of, as I may say, an apostle of our age,
if we have any) are not preserved by printing thus in folio, most
of them in all probability will be lost, for there are many of
them have been out of print many years, and will never otherwise
be printed again because of the charge, &c.
XVI. By the late Act for liberty of conscience, it is lawful now
to print the works of dissenters, though it was not so formerly;
therefore much danger cannot plead excuse.
XVII. It is a good work without controversy, and therefore there
can be no scruple of conscience about its pleasing God.
XVIII. There is also to the subscribers a further benefit in this
folio; for, whereas these twenty books would, if bought single,
cost nigh twenty shillings now, as printed in folio they will
have them for about twelve shillings bound together in one volume,
which conveniency also prevents losing.
XIX. These ten manuscripts, which were never before printed,
would, if printed in small books, and bought single, cost almost
the money that these twenty in folio comes for, which is great
odds.
XX. Not to preserve his labours and name, which are so great, is
a disingenuous slighting or despising them, and serving them no
better than a wicked man's that rots. Bunyan hath preached, and
freely bestowed many a good and gospel-truth, and soul-reviving
expression; for which of them doth any of his friends slight
him? Nay, do not they rather owe him something for his labour he
bestowed on them, as Philemon did to Paul?
XXI. The price of the first part will be an easier purchase than
of the whole; and all in one volume would be somewhat too big in
bulk and price.
XXII. There is need of printing these books now, because errors
and superstitions, like the smoke of the bottomless pit, darken
protestants understanding the purer truths of the gospel.
XXIII. And when this first part is sold off, we shall endeavour
to publish a second part, whereby he that is wiling may have the
whole in folio.
XXIV. This preservation will preserve the name of John Bunyan, a
champion of our age to future ages; whereby it may be said in the
pulpit, The great convert Bunyan said so and so.
XXV. If the labours of so eminent a minister should not be preserved,
I known not whose should.
XXVI. Antichristian people are diligent to preserve the works of
their eminent men; and therefore Christians should be diligent to
preserve theirs.
XXVII. The chief reasons we argue from are not common rules, that
therefore every good minister's endeavours ought to be printed
in folio. But this case is extraordinary, as an eminent minister,
made so by abundance of gospel grace, who has also writ much, which
hath gone off well. I say eminent, though he was, when young,
profane, and had not school education to enable him, as is apparent
to all that knew him.
XXVIII. By this printed in folio a man may have recourse for
satisfaction in a case of conscience to any of these particular
books with the rest, which otherwise are not to be bought; and
that I have proved by often trying most London booksellers, and
before that given them above twice the price for a book; and I
know not how to get another of those sorts for any price whatsoever.
XXIX. All these things, or half of them, beside many others that
might be given, being considered, I cannot see but it is an absolute
duty.
XXX. And lastly (pardon me, if I speak too great a word, as it
may seem to some to be borne), all things considered; that is,
his own former profaneness, poverty, unlearnedness, together with
his great natural parts, the great change made by grace, and his
long imprisonment, and the great maturity in grace and preaching
he attained to, I say our deceased Bunyan hath not left in England,
or the world, his equal behind him, as I know of. And this is the
unfeigned belief of,
Your Christian brother,
CHARLES DOE.
THE STRUGGLER
(FOR THE PRECEDING PRESERVATION OF MR. JOHN BUNYAN'S LABOURS
IN FOLIO) THINKS IT MAY ANSWER THE DESIRES OF MANY TO GIVE THE
FOLLOWING RELATION:--
CHRISTIAN READER,
I do here as further duty presume to give you, according to my
understanding, a relation in three parts, concerning our eminent
author, Mr. John Bunyan, and his labours.
I. The author's parentage, imprisonment, times, and manner of his
life and death, &c.
II. Relations and observations upon his labours, &c.
III. Notes on printing this folio and index, &c.
First, Our excellent author, by the abundant grace of God, Mr.
John Bunyan, was born at Elstow, a mile side of Bedford, about the
year 1628. His father was mean, and by trade a mender of pots and
kettles, vulgarly called a tinker, and of the national religion,
as commonly men of that trade are, and was brought up to the
tinkering trade, as also were several of his brothers, whereat he
worked about that country,[6] being also very profane and poor,
even when married, &c.
But it pleased God, by his irresistible grace, to work in him
some convictions and fears of hell, and also desires of heaven,
which drove him to reading and hearing of religious matters, so,
controlling grace growing abundantly, he did not take up religion
upon trust, but grace in him continually struggling with himself
and others, took all advantages he lit on to ripen his understanding
in religion, and so he lit on the dissenting congregation of
Christians at Bedford, and was, upon confession of faith, baptized
about the year 1651, o 52, or 53.
And after a little time, having a gift of utterance, and love to
the conviction of sinners, preached about the country the same
salvation he found by experience himself stood in need of,
by faith and repentance, and worked at his tinkering trade for a
livelihood, whereby the reigning grace of God appeared the more
sovereign and glorious in this choice, even as it shone in the
choice of Peter, a fisherman, and the rest of the apostles, and
others of the eminent saints of old, most of them tradesmen, and
of whom most excellent things are spoken, &c.
In the year 1660, being the year king Charles returned to England,
having preached about[7] five years, the rage of gospel enemies
was so great that, November 12, they took him prisoner at a meeting
of good people, and put him in Bedford jail, and there he continued
about six years, and then was let out again, 1666, being the year
of the burning of London, and, a little after his release, they
took him again at a meeting, and put him in the same jail, where
he lay six years more.[8] Before they took him his intent was
to preach on these words, 'Dost thou believe on the Son of God?'
(John 9:35). From whence he intended to show the absolute need of
faith in Jesus Christ. And after he was released again, they took
him again, and put him in prison the third time, but that proved
but for about half a year.
Whilst he was thus twelve years and a half in prison, he writ several
of his published books, as by many of their epistles appears, as
'Pray by the Spirit,' 'Holy City,' 'Resurrection,' 'Grace Abounding,'
and others, also 'The Pilgrim's Progress,' as himself and many
others have said.
The pastor of Bedford congregation died, and, after some years'
vacancy, John Bunyan, though a prisoner, was, by the church, called
to the pastoral office, December 21, 1671, and as it pleased the
Lord to rule the rage of men, it proved in or about the last year
of his twelve years' imprisonment. And, being out, he preached the
gospel publicly at Bedford, and about the counties, and at London,
with very great success, being mightily followed everywhere. And
it pleased the Lord to preserve him out of the hands of his enemies
in the severe persecution at the latter end of king Charles the
Second's reign, though they often searched and laid wait for him,
and sometimes narrowly missed him.
In 1688, he published six books, being the time of king James the
Second's liberty of conscience, and was seized with a sweating
distemper, which, after his some weeks going about, proved his
death, at his very loving friend's, Mr. Strudwick's, a grocer, at
Holborn Bridge, London, on August 31, 1688, and in the 60th year
of his age, and was buried in Finsbury burying-ground, where many
London dissenting ministers are laid; and it proved some days
above a month before our great gospel deliverance was begun by
the Prince of Orange's landing, whom the Lord of his continued
blessing hath since made our preserving king, William the Third.
And as to his family, he left his widow, Elizabeth, and three sons,
John, Thomas, and Joseph, and three daughters, Elizabeth, Sarah,
and Mary; but his blind daughter he writes of in his 'Grace
Abounding' died some years before him, and his widow died 1690-1.
Secondly, Concerning his labours; God did give of his extraordinary
grace of the gospel to our author, Bunyan, and it is worthy
our observation, for thereby God may have due honour, his people
comfort, and adversaries confuted in their several corrupt notions,
especially that of only them that have school education are fitly
qualified for ministers of the glorious gospel of Jesus Christ.
And also hereby the superstitious man is confounded in his way
of worship, as were his predecessors, the rulers of the Jews,
in the case of Peter and John, saying, Whence had these men this
knowledge, seeing they are unlearned? but there was and is a
reason beyond their false rules of education--for they had been
with Jesus.
This is also apt to convince sincere-hearted Christians that God
can, when he will, make a minister of his gospel, and send him
forth in the power of his Spirit, and defend him, nay, may I say,
it is God's prerogative to make his gospel-ministers, and he makes
them effectual to all the ends of his gospel, to preach, as the
great apostle saith, in season and out of season, to abase and
abound, &c. He that can make the dry bones live (as in Eze 37),
what can he not do? yea, they shall live, and become a great
host, and antichristian arts must fall; for the Lord doth make
his servants, as he did Jeremiah, as brazen walls against people
and priests.
And however some subtilly and vain-gloriously pretend to be the
only lawful successors of the apostles, yet certain I am, from
safer reason of faith, that our author Bunyan was really, sincerely,
and effectually a lawful successor of the apostles, and as lawful
as any have been above this thousand years. Nay, may I say, he
was a second Paul; for that his conversion was in a great measure
like that great apostle's, who, of a great enemy to godliness,
was, by strong and irresistible workings of sovereign grace, made
a great minister of, and sufferer for, the gospel. Thousands of
Christians in country and city, can testify that their comfort
under his ministry has been to admiration, so that their joy hath
showed itself by much weeping.
To the eye of carnal reason it may seem that the great apostle
Paul's imprisonment was a contradiction to his commission of
effectually preaching the gospel to many countries; especially
considering his commission was strengthened by his miraculous
conversion, from the glory and call of the Lord Jesus from heaven,
for the making of him such a great gospel preacher. And yet God
suffered it so to be, and we have reason to believe for the best;
because God usually works those seeming contrary things to his own
end and glory. And the effect was, the saints were strengthened
thereby, and several epistles were written thereby, which hath
preserved much of the gospel in writing to the ages after, and
even for our very great and needful help.
And I reckon I shall not be out of the way, if I observe and
say--What hath the devil or his agents gotten by putting our
great gospel-ministry, Bunyan, in prison? for in prison, as before
mentioned, he wrote many excellent books, that have published to
the world his great grace, and great truth, and great judgment, and
great ingenuity; and to instance in one, the Pilgrim's Progress,
he hath suited to the life of a traveler so exactly and pleasantly,
and to the life of a Christian, that this very book, besides the
rest, hath done the superstitious sort of men and their practice
more harm, or rather good, as I may call it, than if he had been
let alone at his meeting at Bedford, to preach the gospel to his own
auditory, as it might have fallen out; for none but priest-ridden
people know how to cavil at it, it wins so smoothly upon their
affections, and so insensibly distils the gospel into them, and
hath been printed in France, Holland, New England, and in Welsh,
and about a hundred thousand in England, whereby they are made
some means of grace, and the author become famous; and may be the
cause of spreading his other gospel-books over the European and
American world, and in process of time may be so to the whole
universe.
When Mr. Bunyan preached in London, if there were but one day's
notice given, there would be more people come together to hear
him preach than the meeting-house would hold. I have seen to hear
him preach, by my computation, about twelve hundred at a morning
lecture, by seven o'clock, on a working day, in the dark winter
time. I also computed about three thousand that came to hear him
one Lord's-day, at London, at a town's end meeting-house; so that
half were fain to go back again for want of room, and then himself
was fain, at a back door, to be pulled almost over people to get
upstairs to his pulpit.
Mr. Bunyan's dispute with a scholar to this effect.
As Mr. Bunyan was upon the road near Cambridge, there overtakes
him a scholar that had observed him a preacher, and said to him,
How dare you preach, seeing you have not the original, being not
a scholar?
Then said Mr. Bunyan, Have you the original?
Yes, said the scholar.
Nay, but, said Mr. Bunyan, have you the very self-same original
copies that were written by the penmen of the scriptures, prophets
and apostles?
No, said the scholar, but we have the true copies of those originals.
How do you know that? said Mr. Bunyan.
How? said the scholar. Why, we believe what we have is a true copy
of the original.
Then, said Mr. Bunyan, so do I believe our English Bible is a true
copy of the original.
Then away rid the scholar.
Another dispute with a scholar.
As Mr. Bunyan was preaching in a barn, and showing the fewness of
those that should be saved, there stood one of the learned to take
advantage of his words; and having done preaching, the schoolman
said to him, You are a deceiver, a person of no charity, and
therefore not fit to preach; for he that in effect condemneth the
greatest part of his hearers hath no charity, and therefore not
fit to preach.
Then Mr. Bunyan answered--The Lord Jesus Christ preached in a ship
to his hearers on the shore (Matt 13); and showed that they were
as four sorts of ground--The high-way, The stony, The thorny, and
The good ground; whereof the good ground was the only persons to
be saved.
And your position is--That he that in effect condementh the
greatest part of his hearers hath no charity, and therefore not
fit to preach the gospel.
But here the Lord Jesus Christ did so; then your conclusion is--The
Lord Jesus Christ wanted charity, and therefore not fit to preach
the gospel.
Horrid blasphemy; away with your hellish logic, and speak Scripture.
Then replied the learned: 'Tis blasphemy to call logic hellish,
which is our reason--the gift of God; for that which distinguisheth
a man from a beast is the gift of God.
But Mr. Bunyan replied: Sin doth distinguish a man from a beast;
is sin therefore the gift of God? &c.
They parted.
I once asked him his opinion in a common religious point, and
offered some arguments to prove my opinion for the general of it;
but he answered, that where the Scripture is silent we ought to
forbear our opinions; and so he forebore to affirm either for or
against, the Scripture being altogether silent in this point.
Thirdly, concerning this folio, &c. I have struggled to bring
about this great good work; and it had succeeded in Mr. Bunyan's
lifetime, even all his labours in folio, but that an interested
bookseller opposed it; and notwithstanding the many discouragements
I have met with in my struggles in this so great a work, we
have--and I may believe by the blessing of the Lord--gotten about
four hundred subscriptions, whereof about thirty are ministers;
which also shows the great esteem our author's labours are in
among Christian people. And that the reasonableness and duty of
the preservation of his labours in folio, by subscription, may
be continued to memory, I have also added my reasons, which I
distributed in my late struggles to effect this work.
His effigies was cut in copper,[9] from an original paint done to
the life, by his very good friend, a limner; and those who desire
it single, to put in a frame, may have it at this bookseller's--Mr.
Marshall; and also the catalogue-table. The epistle is writ by
two ministers, Mr. Wilson of Hichin, in Hertfordshire, and Mr.
Chandler, who succeeds Mr. Bunyan at Bedford.
And Mr. Burton, that writ the epistle to Some Gospel-truths Opened,
being the first book Mr. Bunyan writ, was minister at Bedford.
Note.--I would not charge the following running-titles upon our
author, Bunyan; because they were added in the proposals, for
want of running titles and the knowledge of them, and the copies
being at Bedford when the proposals were drawn up at London; and
also because, perhaps, he designed some other like running-titles:--
Paul's departure and crown.
Israel's hope encouraged.
The saint's privilege and profit.
Christ a complete Saviour.
The saint's knowledge of Christ's love.
Of the Trinity and a Christian.
Of the Law and a Christian.
Notes upon the Index, &c.[10]
I did intend to print a complete table of all the texts of
Scriptures used in our author's labours, that from thence, looking
into his book, his sense might be easily found upon any text; so
his labours might have been also in the nature of an exposition upon
the whole Bible; but I have delayed till some other opportunity,
it may be of the next folio, and whenever it falls I intend to
give notice.
Because I and other subscribers, especially ministers, were
willing this folio should be commoded with an index, I have, as
a Christian, exposed myself and made one, and that without money
for my labour of writing it, though I confess it might have seemed
some other men's duty; yet being ignorant of the man that had the
opportunity, and would have done it, unless paid for it, I was
necessitated to effect it; and if the bookseller had paid for it,
he would have lessened the number of 140 sheets of Mr. Bunyan's
labours in this folio at ten shillings. Excuse this fault in me,
if it be one.
I could have collected abundance more of excellent matter in this
table; and I have placed an Italic-lettered word in every paragraph
in the table, to be the guide-word to the same word in the folio,
which is a black-lettered word in the folio, latter part; that is,
those books formerly printed, where the printer hath not failed
to make it so, and also in the manuscripts, forepart, a guide-word
to the same word under which I have drawn a black line, in as
many folios as opportunity and time would permit me to do, because
I had not time and convenience before this folio was printed to
mark the manuscripts for to be a black-lettered word, as I had time
for the formerly printed books.[11] Also note, the book, though
marked, doth not always refer to the table, but the table to the
book, is the intent; and because the word in the book doth not
always, though very often, fall in alphabetical order, therefore
some other like word is put in its place in the table.
Also note, sometimes many principal words are in one paragraph,
and then, though the matter be not to be found in the table by
the word, that some perhaps may expect, yet it may be found by
another word, because several words are so united that one cannot
well part them; and it would be too large a table to put them
all in severally in alphabetical order--as soul, sinner, saved,
salvation, justification, Christ, God, &c.
Also note. When to the table-phrase more than one number is placed,
then expect not that the same black-letter word is always to be
found in the book to the last number, as is to the first number,
but it may be some other black or marked word of like meaning; as
for antichrist the black-lettered word in some places is harlot,
and for apostles the black-letter word sometimes is twelve, because
the word apostle is not in that part of the folio, though intended
by twelve.
Also note. The phrase in the table is not always the very same,
word for word, in the book, because the design of the table is to
give matter in short saying, as well as most commonly a complete
sentence; and, therefore, they that would have Mr. Bunyan's entire,
complete, and full sense of the matter, let them look out of the
table into the book, and there take all its connection together.
Also, I have to keep the table as short as I well could; and yet,
to direct well to the matter in the book, placed one part of the
matter under one word, in alphabetical order, and another part
of the same matter in another following paragraph, under another
word in the table; so that, by finding one word in the table,
you may often find in the same paragraph, in the book, before or
after that word, other matter thereto relating.[12]
I had but about two years' acquaintance with our author, and,
therefore, have said but little of him, because of hastening this
to the press; yet if any more comes to my memory, I intend to put
it at the end of the index.
Your Christian brother,
C. D.
FOOTNOTES:
1. Difficulties as to copyright prevented this second volume from
being published.--See EDITOR'S PREFACE.
2. A good copy of this rare volume with the wood-cuts, having
the reverse blank, in the editor's possession, and a fine copy,
without the cuts, at Mr. Pickering's, agree as to the date of
1680. It is misplaced in this chronological table; but the date
shows that it was not intended as a third part of the Pilgrim's
Progress; the second part of which was not published for four
years after the life of Badman.--Ed.
3. These MSS., although diligently sought, cannot be found.
4. This was published in a separate pocket volume by C. Doe, 1698.
5. Published from Mr. Bunyan's MS, 1765.
6. As doth appear by his book of his conversion, intitled, Grace
Abounding, &c.
7. As in his book intitled, Grace Abounding, s. 319.
8. As he says in his Epistle to his Confession of Faith.
9. Alluding to the portrait published as a frontispiece to the
folio volume, 1692.--Ed.
10. The Index accompanying the first folio.--Ed.
11. This is as originally printed. Mr. Doe means, he had not time
to mark in the manuscript such words as the printer should put in
black-letter.--Ed.
12. The table to which Charles Doe here refers is only to twenty
of Mr. Bunyan's books. It is diffuse, and badly arranged. The
Index given with this first complete edition of all the admirable
works of our great pilgrim forefather, is entirely new. It is the
result of a careful reading of every treatise, extracting a notice
of such tings as the editor conceived to be most deeply interesting.
These extracts were then arranged, in order to furnish a useful
index to all the works of Bunyan. It has been attended with very
great labour, and some delay to the publication; but no sacrifice
is too great, in order to render Bunyan's works as complete as
possible.
GEORGE OFFOR.