Part 1 — FROM MOUNT GERIZZIM.

Besides what I said of the Four Last Things, And of the weal and woe that from them springs; An after-word still runneth in my mind, Which I shall here expose unto that wind That may it blow into that very hand That needs it. Also that it may be scann'd With greatest soberness, shall be my prayer, As well as diligence and godly care; So to present it unto public view, That only truth and peace may thence ensue. My talk shall be of that amazing love Of God we read of; which, that it may prove, By its engaging arguments to save Thee, I shall lay out that poor help I have Thee to entice; that thou wouldst dearly fall In love with thy salvation, and with all That doth thereto concur, that thou mayst be As blessed as the Blessed can make thee, Not only here but in the world to come, In bliss, which, I pray God, may be thy home. But first, I would advise thee to bethink Thyself, how sin hath laid thee at the brink Of hell, where thou art lulled fast asleep In Satan's arms, who also will thee keep As senseless and secure as e'er he may, Lest thou shouldst wake, and see't, and run away Unto that Jesus, whom the Father sent Into the world, for this cause and intent, That such as thou, from such a thrall as this Might'st be released, and made heir of bliss. Now that thou may'st awake, the danger fly, And so escape the death that others die, Come, let me set my trumpet to thine ear, Be willing all my message for to hear: 'Tis for thy life, O do it not refuse; Wo unto them good counsel do abuse. Thou art at present in that very case, Which argues thou art destitute of grace: For he that lies where sin hath laid him, lies Under the curse, graceless, and so he dies In body and in soul, within that range, If God his heart in mercy doth not change Before he goes the way of all the earth, Before he lose his spirit and his breath. Repentance there is none within the grave, Nor Christ, nor grace, nor mercies for to save Thee from the vengeance due unto thy sin, If now thou dost not truly close with him. Thou art like him that sleepeth in the sea On broken boards, which, without guide or stay, Are driven whither winds and water will; While greedy beasts do wait to have their fill By feeding on his carcass, when he shall Turn overboard, and without mercy fall Into the jaws of such as make a prey Of those whom justice drowneth in the sea. Thou art like him that snoring still doth lie Upon the bed of vain security, Whilst all about him into burning flame By fire is turned; yea, and while the frame And building where he lies consuming is, And while himself these burnings cannot miss. Thou art like one that hangeth by a thread Over the mouth of hell, as one half-dead; And O, how soon this thread may broken be, Or cut by death, is yet unknown to thee! But sure it is, if all the weight of sin, And all that Satan, too, hath doing been, Or yet can do, can break this crazy thread, 'Twill not be long before, among the dead, Thou tumble do, as linked fast in chains, With them to wait in fear for future pains. What shall I say? Wilt thou not yet awake? Nor yet of thy poor soul some pity take? Among the lions it hood-winked lies; O, that the Lord would open once thine eyes That thou might'st see it, then I dare say thou, As half-bereft of wits, wouldst cry out, How Shall I escape? Lord help, O! help with speed, Reach down thy hand from heav'n, for help I need, To save me from the lions, for I fear This soul of mine they will in pieces tear. Come, then, and let us both expostulate The case betwixt us, till we animate And kindle in our hearts that burning love To Christ, to grace, to life, that we may move Swifter than eagles to this blessed prey; Then shall it be well with us in that day The trump shall sound, the dead made rise, and stand, Then to receive, for breach of God's command, Such thunder-claps as these, Depart from me Into hell-fire, you that the wicked be, Prepared for the devil, and for those That with him and his angels rather chose To live in filthy sin and wickedness, Whose fruit is everlasting bitterness. We both are yet on this side of the grave, We also gospel-privileges have; The word, and time to pray; God give us hearts, That, like the wise man, we may act our parts, To get the pearl of price; then we shall be Like godly Mary, Peter, Paul, and we Like Jacob, too, the blessing shall obtain; While Esau rides a-hunting for the gain Of worldly pelf, which will him not avail When death or judgment shall him sore assail. Now, to encourage us for to begin, Let us believe the kingdom we may win, And be possess'd thereof, if we the way Shall hit into, and then let nothing stay Or hinder us; the crown is at the end, Let's run and strive, and fly, and let's contend With greatest courage it for to obtain; 'Tis life, and peace, and everlasting gain. The gate of life, the new and living way, The promise holdeth open all the day, Which thou by Jacob's ladder must ascend, Where angels always wait, and do attend As ministers, to minister for those That do with God, and Christ, and glory close. If guilt of sin still lieth at our door, Us to discourage, let us set before Our eyes a bleeding Jesus, who did die The death, and let's believe the reason why He did it, was that we might ever be From death and sin, from hell and wrath set free. Yea, let's remember for that very end It was his blessed Father did him send; That he the law of God might here fulfil, That so the mystery of his blessed will Might be revealed in the blessedness Of those that fly to Christ for righteousness. Now let us argue with ourselves, then, thus That Jesus Christ our Lord came to save us, By bearing of our sins upon his back, By hanging on the cross as on a rack, While justice cut him off on every side, While smiles Divine themselves from him did hide, While earth did quake, and rocks in pieces rent, And while the sun, as veiled, did lament To see the innocent and harmless die So sore a death, so full of misery. Yea, let us turn again, and say, All this He did and suffered for love of his. He brought in everlasting righteousness, That he might cover all our nakedness; He wept and wash'd his face with brinish tears That we might saved be from hellish fears; Blood was his sweat, too, in his agony, That we might live in joyful ecstasy; He apprehended was and led away, That grace to us-ward never might decay. With swords, and bills, and outrage in the night, That to the peace of heav'n we might have right. Condemned he was between two thieves to die, That we might ever in his bosom lie; Scourged with whips his precious body were, That we lashes of conscience might not fear; His head was crowned with thorns, that we might be Crowned with glory and felicity; He hanged was upon a cursed tree, That we delivered from death might be; His Father from him hides his smiles and face, That we might have them in the heavenly place; He cry'd, My God, why hast forsaken me? That we forsaken of him might not be. Into his side was thrust a bloody spear, That we the sting of death might never fear; He went into the grave after all this, That we might up to heav'n go, and have bliss. Yea, rise again he did out of the earth, And shook off from him all the chains of death; Then at his chariot wheels he captive led His foes, and trod upon the serpent's head; Riding in triumph to his Father's throne, There to possess the kingdom as his own. What say'st thou, wilt not yet unto him come? His arms are open, in his heart is room To lay thee; be not then discouraged, Although thy sins be many, great, and red; Unto thee righteousness he will impute, And with the kisses of his mouth salute Thy drooping soul, and will it so uphold, As that thy shaking conscience shall be bold To come to mercy's seat with great access, There to expostulate with that justice That burns like fiery flames against all those That do not with this blessed Jesus close; Which unto thee will do no harm, but good, Because thou hast reliance on that blood That justice saith hath given him content, For all that do unfeignedly repent Their ill-spent life, and roll upon free grace, That they within that bosom might have place, That open is to such, where they shall lie In ease, and gladness, and felicity, World without end, according to that state I have, nay, better than I, can relate. If thou shalt still object, thou yet art vile, And hast a heart that will not reconcile Unto the holy law, but will rebel, Hark yet to what I shall thee farther tell. Two things are yet behind that help thee will, If God should put into thy mind that skill, So to improve them as becometh those That would with mercy and forgiveness close. First, then, let this sink down into thy heart, That Christ is not a Saviour in part, But every way so fully he is made That all of those that underneath his shade And wing would sit, and shroud their weary soul, That even Moses dare it not control, But justify it, approve of 't, and conclude No man nor angel must himself intrude With such doctrine that may oppose the same, On pain of blaspheming that holy name, Which God himself hath given unto men, To stay, to trust, to lean themselves on, when They feel themselves assaulted, and made fear Their sin will not let them in life appear. For as God made him perfect righteousness, That he his love might to the height express, And us present complete before the throne; Sanctification, too, of his own He hath prepared, in which do we stand, Complete in holiness, at his right hand. Now this sanctification is not That holiness which is in us, but that Which in the person of this Jesus is, And can inherently be only his. But is imputed to us for our good. As is his active righteousness and blood; Which is the cause, though we infirm are found, That mercy and forgiveness doth abound To us-ward, and that why we are not shent[16] And empty, and away rebuked sent, Because that all we do imperfect is. Bless God, then, for this holiness of his, And learn to look by faith on that alone, When thou seest thou hast nothing of thine own; Yea, when thy heart most willing is to do What God by his good word doth call thee to; And when thou find'st most holiness within, And greatest power over every sin, Yet then to Jesus look, and thou shalt see In him sanctification for thee, Far more complete than all that thou canst find In the most upright heart and willing mind, That ever man or angels did possess, When most filled with inherent righteousness. Besides, if thou forgettest here to live, And Satan get thee once into his sieve, He will so hide thy wheat, and show thy brun[17] That thou wilt quickly cry, I am undone. Alas, thy goodliest attainments here, Though like the fairest blossoms they appear, How quickly will they lour and decay, And be as if they all were fled away, When once the east-wind of temptations beat Upon thee, with their dry and blasting heat! Rich men will not account their treasure lies In crack'd groats and four-pence half-pennies,[18] But in those bags they have within their chests, In staple goods, which shall within their breasts Have place accordingly, because they see Their substance lieth here. But if that be But shaken, then they quickly fear, and cry, Alas, 'tis not this small and odd money, We carry in our pockets for to spend, Will make us rich, or much will stand our friend. If famine or if want do us assail, How quickly will these little pieces fail! If thou be wise, consider what I say And look for all in Christ, where no decay Is like to be; then though thy present frame Be much in up-and-down, yet he the same Abideth, yea, and still at God's right hand, As thy most perfect holiness will stand. It is, I say, not like to that in thee, Now high, then low, now out, then in, but he Most perfect is, when thou art at the worst The same, the very same; I said at first, This helpeth much when thou art buffeted, And when thy graces lie in thee as dead; Then to believe they are all perfect still In Christ thy head, who hath that blessed skill, Yet to present thee by what is in him Unto his Father, one that hath no sin. Yea, this will fill thy mouth with argument Against the tempter, when he shall present Before thee all thy weakness, and shall hide From thee thy graces, that thou mayst abide Under the fretting fumes of unbelief, Which never yielded Christian man relief. Nor help thyself thou mayst against him thus: O Satan, though my heart indeed be worse Than 'twas a while ago, yet I perceive Thou shalt me not of happiness bereave, Nor yet of holiness; for by the Word I find that Jesus Christ, our blessed Lord, Is made sanctification for me In his own person, where all graces be, As water in the fountain; and that I, By means of that, have yet a sanctity, Both personal and perfect every way; And that is Christ himself, as Paul doth say. Now, though my crazy pitcher oft doth leak, By means of which my graces are so weak, And so much spent, that one I cannot find Able to stay or help my feeble mind; Yet then I look to Jesus, and see all In him that wanting is in me, and shall Again take courage, and believe he will Present me upright in his person, till He humble me for all my foolishness, And then again fill me with holiness. Now, if thou lovest inward sanctity, As all the saints do most unfeignedly, Then add, to what I have already said, Faith in the promise; and be not afraid To urge it often at the throne of grace, And to expect it in its time and place. Then he that true is, and that cannot lie, Will give it unto thee, that thou thereby Mayst serve with faith, with fear, in truth and love, That God that did at first thy spirit move To ask it to his praise, that he might be Thy God, and that he might delight in thee. If I should here particulars relate, Methinks it could not but much animate Thy heart, though very listless to inquire How thou mayst that enjoy, which all desire That love themselves and future happiness; But O, I cannot fully it express: The promise is so open and so free, In all respects, to those that humble be, That want they cannot what for them is good; But there 'tis, and confirmed is with blood, A certain sign, all those enjoy it may, That see they want it, and sincerely pray To God the Father, in that Jesus' name Who bled on purpose to confirm the same.

[THE NECESSITY OF A NEW HEART.]

Now wouldst thou have a heart that tender is, A heart that forward is to close with bliss; A heart that will impressions freely take Of the new covenant, and that will make The best improvement of the word of grace, And that to wickedness will not give place; All this is in the promise, and it may Obtained be of them that humbly pray. Wouldst thou enjoy that spirit that is free, And looseth those that in their spirits be Oppressed with guilt, or filth, or unbelief; That spirit that will, where it dwells, be chief; Which breaketh Samson's cord as rotten thread, And raiseth up the spirit that is dead; That sets the will at liberty to choose Those things that God hath promis'd to infuse Into the humble heart? All this, I say, The promise holdeth out to them that pray.

[THE SPIRIT OF PRAYER.]

Wouldst thou have that good, that blessed mind, That is so much to heavenly things inclin'd That it aloft will soar, and always be Contemplating on blest eternity. That mind that never thinks itself at rest, But when it knows it is for ever blest; That mind that can be here no more content, Than he that in the prison doth lament; That blessed mind that counts itself then free When it can at the throne with Jesus be, There to behold the mansions he prepares For such as be with him and his co-heirs. This mind is in the covenant of grace, And shall be theirs that truly seek his face.

[OF GODLY FEAR.]

Is godly fear delightful unto thee, That fear that God himself delights to see Bear sway in them that love him? then he will Thy godly mind in this request fulfil. By giving thee a fear that tremble shall, At every trip thou takest, lest thou fall, And him offend, or hurt thyself by sin, Or cause poor souls that always blind have been To stumble at thy falls, and harder be Against their own salvation and thee. That fear that of itself would rather choose The rod, than to offend or to abuse In anything that blessed worthy name, That hath thee saved from that death and shame; That sin would soon have brought thee to, if he Had not imputed righteousness to thee. I will love them, saith God, and not depart From them, but put my fear within their heart, That I to them may always lovely be, And that they never may depart from me.

[OF UPRIGHTNESS AND SINCERITY.]

Wouldst thou be very upright and sincere? Wouldst thou be that within thou dost appear, Or seem to be in outward exercise Before the most devout, and godly wise? Yea, art thou thus when no eye doth thee see But that which is invisible? and be The words of God in truth thy prop and stay? And do they in thy conscience bear more sway To govern thee in faith and holiness, Than thou canst with thy heart and mouth express? And do the things that truly are divine, Before thee more than gold or rubies shine? And if, as unto Solomon, God should Propound to thee, What wouldst thou have? how would Thy heart and pulse beat after heav'nly things, After the upper and the nether springs? Couldst, with unfeigned heart and upright lip, Cry, Hold me fast, Lord, never let me slip, Nor step aside from faith and holiness, Nor from the blessed hope of future bliss? Lord, rather cross me anywhere than here; Lord, fill me always with thy holy fear, And godly jealousy of mine own heart, Lest I, Lord, should at any time depart From thy most blessed covenant of grace, Where Jesus rules as King, and where thy face Is only to be seen with comfort, and Where sinners justified before thee stand. If these thy groanings be sincere and true, If God doth count thee one that dost pursue The things thou cryest after with thy heart, No doubt but in them thou shalt have a part.

[HOW GRACES ARE TO BE OBTAINED.]

The next word that I would unto thee say, Is how thou mayst attain without delay, Those blessed graces, and that holiness Thou dost with so much godly zeal express Thy love to, and thy longing to enjoy, That sins and weakness might thee less annoy. Know, then, as I have hinted heretofore, And shall now speak unto a little more, All graces in the person of the Son Are by the Father hid, and therefore none Can them obtain but they who with him close; All others graceless are but only those; For of his fulness 'tis that we receive, And grace for grace; let no man then deceive Himself or others with a feigned show Of holiness, if Jesus they eschew. When he ascended to his Father, then It was that he received gifts for men; Faith, hope, and love, true zeal, an upright heart, Right humbleness of mind, and every part Of what the word of life counts holiness, God then laid up in him, that we redress And help might have, who do unto him fly For righteousness and gospel sanctity.

[OF IMPUTED RIGHTEOUSNESS.]

Now, if thou wouldst inherit righteousness, And so sanctification possess In body, soul, and spirit, then thou must To Jesus fly, as one ungodly first; And so by him crave pardon for thy sin Which thou hast loved, and hast lived in; For this cannot at all forgiven be, For any righteousness that is in thee; Because the best thou hast is filthy rags, Profane, presumptuous, and most beastly brags Of flesh and blood, which always cross doth lie To God, to grace, and thy felicity. Then righteousness imputed thou must have, Thee from that guilt and punishment to save Thou liest under as a sinful man, Throughout polluted, and that never can By any other means acquitted be, Or ever have true holiness in thee. The reason is, because all graces are Only in Christ, and be infused where, Or into those whom he doth justify, By what himself hath done, that he thereby Might be the whole of all that happiness The sinner shall enjoy here, and in bliss. Besides, if holiness should first be found In those whom God doth pardon, then the ground Why we forgiven are would seem to be, He first found holiness in thee and me; But this the holy Scriptures will refute, And prove that righteousness he doth impute Without respect to goodness first in man; For, to speak truth indeed, no goodness can Be found in those that underneath the law Do stand; for if God goodness in them saw, Why doth he once and twice say, There is none That righteous be; no, not so much as one; None understandeth, none seek after God, His ways they have not known, but have abode In wickedness, unprofitably they Must needs appear to be then every way. Their throats an open sepulchre, also Their mouths are full of filthy cursings too; And bitterness, yea, underneath their lips The asp hath poison. O how many slips And falls in sin must such poor people have! Now here's the holiness that should them save, Or, as a preparation, go before, To move God to do for them less or more? No, grace must on thee righteousness bestow, Or, else sin will for ever thee undo. Sweet Paul this doctrine also doth express, Where he saith, Some may have righteousness, Though works they have not; and it thus may stand, Grace by the promise gives what the command Requireth us to do, and so are we Quitted from doing, and by grace made free.

[OF HOLINESS OF LIFE.]

Now, then, if holiness thou wouldst obtain, And wouldst a tender Christian man remain, Keep faith in action, let that righteousness That Christ fulfilled always have express And clear distinction in thy heart, from all That men by Scripture, or besides, it, call Inherent gospel holiness, or what Terms else they please to give it; for 'tis that, And that alone, by which all graces come Into the heart; for else there is no room For ought but pride, presumption, or despair, No love or other graces can be there. Received you the Spirit, saith St. Paul, By hearing, faith, or works? not works, and shall No ways retain the same, except you do Hear faith, embrace the same, and stick thereto.

[THE OPERATION OF FAITH.]

The word of faith unto me pardon brings, Shows me the ground and reason whence it springs: To wit, free grace, which moved God to give His Son to die and bleed, that I might live This word doth also loudly preach to me, Though I a miserable sinner be, Yet in this Son of God I stand complete, Whose righteousness is without all deceit; 'Tis that which God himself delighteth in, And that by which all his have saved been.

[OF LOVE TO GOD.]

When I do this begin to apprehend, My heart, my soul, and mind, begins to bend To God-ward, and sincerely for to love His son, his ways, his people, and to move With brokenness of spirit after him Who broken was, and killed for my sin. Now is mine heart grown holy, now it cleaves To Jesus Christ my Lord, and now it leaves Those ways that wicked be; it mourns because It can conform no more unto the laws Of God, who loved me when I was vile, And of sweet Jesus, who did reconcile Me unto justice by his precious blood, When no way else was left to do me good. If you would know how this can operate Thus on the soul, I shall to you relate A little farther what my soul hath seen Since I have with the Lord acquainted been. The word of grace, when it doth rightly seize The spirit of a man, and so at ease Doth set the soul, the Spirit of the Lord Doth then with might accompany the word; In which it sets forth Christ as crucified, And by that means the Father pacified With such a wretch was thou, and by this sight, Thy guilt is in the first place put to flight, For thus the Spirit doth expostulate: Behold how God doth now communicate (By changing of the person) grace to thee A sinner, but to Christ great misery, Though he the just one was, and so could not Deserve this punishment; behold, then, what The love of God is! how 'tis manifest, And where the reason lies that thou art blest. This doctrine being spoken to the heart, Which also is made yield to every part Thereof, it doth the same with sweetness fill, And so doth sins and wickednesses kill; For when the love of God is thus reveal'd, And thy poor drooping spirit thereby seal'd, And when thy heart, as dry ground, drinks this in Unto the roots thereof, which nourish sin, It smites them, as the worm did Jonah's gourd, And makes them dwindle of their own accord, And die away; instead of which there springs Up life and love, and other holy things. Besides, the Holy Spirit now is come, And takes possession of thee as its home; By which a war maintained always is Against the old man and the deeds of his. When God at first upon mount Sinai spake, He made his very servant Moses quake; But when he heard the law the second time, His heart was comforted, his face did shine. What was the reason of this difference, Seeing no change was in the ordinance, Although a change was in the manner, when The second time he gave it unto men? At first 'twas given in severity, In thunder, blackness, darkness, tempest high, In fiery flames it was delivered. This struck both Moses and the host as dead; But Moses, when he went into the mount The second time, upon the same account No fear, nor dread, nor shaking of his mind, Do we in all the holy Scripture find; But rather in his spirit he had rest, And look'd upon himself as greatly blest. He was put in the rock, he heard the name, Which on the mount the Lord did thus proclaim: The Lord, merciful, gracious, and more, Long-suffering, and keeping up in store Mercy for thousands, pardoning these things, Iniquity, transgressions, and sins, And holding guilty none but such as still Refuse forgiveness, of rebellious will. This proclamation better pleased him Than all the thunder and the light'ning. Which shook the mount, this rid him of his fear, This made him bend, make haste, and worship there. Jehoshaphat, when he was sore opprest By Amnon and by Moab, and the rest Of them that sought his life, no rest he found, Until a word of faith became a ground To stay himself upon; O, then they fell, His very song became their passing-bell. Then holiness of heart a consequence Of faith in Christ is, for it flows from thence; The love of Christ in truth constraineth us, Of love sincerely to make judgment thus: He for us died that for ever we Might die to sin, and Christ his servants be. O! nothing's like to the remembrance Of what it is to have deliverance From death and hell, which is of due our right, Nothing, I say, like this to work delight In holy things; this like live honey runs, And needs no pressing out of honey-combs.

[LOVE INDUCING CHRISTIAN CONDUCT.]

Then understand my meaning by my words, How sense of mercy unto faith affords Both grace to sanctify, and holy make That soul that of forgiveness doth partake. Thus having briefly showed you what is The way of life, or sanctity, of bliss, I would not in conclusion have you think, By what I say, that Christian men should drink In these my words with lightness, or that they Are now exempted from what every day Their duty is. No, God doth still expect, Yea, doth command, that they do not neglect To pray, to read, to hear, and not dissent From being sober, grave, and diligent In watching, self-denial, and with fear To serve him all the time thou livest here. Indeed I have endeavoured to lay Before your eyes the right and only way Pardon to get, and also holiness, Without which never think that God will bless Thee with the kingdom he will give to those That Christ embrace, and holy lives do choose To live, while here all others go astray, And shall in time to come be cast away.

FROM MOUNT EBAL.

Thus having heard from Gerizzim, I shall Next come to Ebal, and you thither call, Not there to curse you, but to let you hear How God doth curse that soul that shall appear An unbelieving man, a graceless wretch; Because he doth continue in the breach Of Moses' law, and also doth neglect To close with Jesus; him will God reject And cast behind him; for of right his due Is that from whence all miseries ensue. Cursed, saith he, are thy that do transgress The least of my commandments, more or less. Nothing that written is must broken be, But always must be kept unto by thee, And must fulfilled be; for here no man Can look God in the face, or ever stand Before the judgment-seat; for if they be Convict, condemned too assuredly. Now keep this law no mortal creature can, For they already do, as guilty, stand Before the God that gave it; so that they Obnoxious to the curse lie every day, Which also they must feel for certainty, If unto Jesus Christ they do not fly. Hence, then, as they for ever shall be blest, That do by faith upon the promise rest, So peace unto the wicked there is none; 'Tis wrath and death that they must feed upon. That what I say may some impression make On carnal hearts, that they in time may take That course that best will prove when time is done, These lines I add to what I have begun. First, thou must know that God, as he is love So he is justice, therefore cannot move, Or in the least be brought to favour those His holiness and justice doth oppose. For though thou mayst imagine in thy heart That God is this or that, yet if thou art At all besides the truth of what he is, And so dost build thy hope for life amiss, Still he the same abideth, and will be The same, the same for ever unto thee. As God is true unto his promise, so Unto his threat'ning he is faithful too. Cease to be God he must, if he should break One tittle that his blessed mouth did speak. Now, then, none can be saved but the men With whom the Godhead is contented when It them beholds with the severest eye Of justice, holiness, and yet can spy No fault nor blemish in them; these be they That must be saved, as the Scriptures say. If this be true, as 'tis assuredly, Woe be to them that wicked live and die; Those that as far from holiness have been All their life long as if no eye had seen Their doings here, or as if God did not At all regard, or in the least mind what, Wherein, or how they did his law transgress, Either by this or other wickedness; But how deceived these poor creatures are, They then shall know when they their burthen bear. Alas, our God is a consuming fire; So is his law, by which he doth require That thou submit to him, and if thou be Not in that justice found that can save thee From all and every sentence which he spake Upon mount Sinai, then as one that brake It, thou the flames thereof shall quickly find As scourges thee to lash, while sins do bind Thee hand and foot, for ever to endure The strokes of vengeance for thy life impure. What I have said will yet evinced be, And manifest abundantly to thee, If what I have already spoken to Be joined with these lines that do ensue. Justice discovers its antipathy Against profaneness and malignity. Not only by the law it gave to men, And threatenings thereunto annexed then. But inasmuch as long before that day, He did prepare for such as go astray, That dreadful, that so much amazing place— Hell, with its torments—for those men that grace And holiness of life slight and disdain, There to bemoan themselves with hellish pain. This place, also, the pains so dismal be, Both as to name and nature, that in me It is not to express the damning wights, The hellish torture, and the fearful plights Thereof; for as intolerable they Must needs be found, by those that disobey The Lord, so can no word or thought express Unto the full the height of that distress; Such miserable caitiffs, that shall there Rebukes of vengeance, for transgressions bear. Indeed the holy Scriptures do make use Of many metaphors, that do conduce Much to the symbolizing of the place, Unto our apprehension; but the case— The sad, the woful case—of those that lie As racked there in endless misery, By all similitudes no mortals may Set forth in its own nature; for I say Similitudes are but a shade, and show Of those or that they signify to you. The fire that doth within thine oven burn, The prison where poor people sit and mourn, Chains, racks, and darkness, and such others, be As painting on the wall, to let thee see By word and figures the extremity Of such as shall within these burnings lie. But certainly, if wickedness and sin Had only foolish toys and trifles been, And if God had not greatly hated it, Yea, could he any ways thereof admit, And let it pass, he would not thus have done. He doth not use to punish any one With any place or punishment that is Above or sharper than the sin of his Hath merited, and justice seeth due; Read sin, then, by the death that doth ensue. Most men do judge of sin, not by the fruits It bears and bringeth forth, but as it suits Their carnal and deluded hearts, that be With sensual pleasures eaten up; but he That now so judgeth, shortly shall perceive That God will judge thereof himself, and leave Such men no longer to their carnal lusts, To judge of wickedness, and of the just And righteous punishment that doth of right Belong thereto; and will, too, in despite Of all their carnal reason, justify Himself, in their eternal misery. Then hell will be no fancy, neither will Men's sins be pleasant to them; but so ill And bitter, yea, so bitter, that none can Fully express the same, or ever stand Under the burden it will on them lay, When they from life and bliss are sent away. When I have thought how often God doth speak Of their destruction, who HIS law do break; And when the nature of the punishment I find so dreadful, and that God's intent, Yea, resolution is, it to inflict On every sinner that shall stand convict, I have amazed been, yet to behold, To see poor sinners yet with sin so bold, That like the horse that to the battle runs, Without all fear, and that no danger shuns, Till down he falls. O resolute attempts! O sad, amazing, damnable events! The end of such proceedings needs must be, From which, O Lord, save and deliver me. But if thou think that God thy noble race Will more respect, than into such a place To put thee; hold, though thou his offspring be, And so art lovely, yet sin hath made thee Another kind of creature than when thou Didst from his fingers drop, and therefore now Thy first creation stands thee in no stead; Thou hast transgressed, and in very deed Set God against thee, who is infinite, And that for certain never will forget Thy sins, nor favour thee if thou shalt die A graceless man; this is thy misery. When angels sinned, though of higher race Than thou, and also put in higher place, Yet them he spared not, but cast them down From heaven to hell; where also they lie bound In everlasting chains, and no release Shall ever have, but wrath, that shall increase Upon them, to their everlasting woe. As for the state they were exalted to, That will by no means mitigate their fear, But aggravate their hellish torment here; For he that highest stands, if he shall fall, His danger needs must be the great'st of all. Now if God noble angels did not spare Because they did transgress, will he forbear Poor dust and ashes? Will he suffer them To break his law, and sin, and not condemn Them for so doing? Let not man deceive Himself or others; they that do bereave Themselves by sin of happiness, shall be Cut off by justice, and have misery. Witness his great severity upon The world that first was planted, wherein none But only eight the deluge did escape, All others of that vengeance did partake; The reason was, that world ungodly stood Before him, therefore he did send the flood, Which swept them all away. A just reward For their most wicked ways against the Lord, Who could no longer bear them and their ways, Therefore into their bosom vengeance pays. We read of Sodom, and Gomorrah too, What judgments they for sin did undergo; How God from heaven did fire upon them rain, Because they would not wicked ways refrain; Condemning of them with an overthrow, And turned them to ashes. Who can know The miseries that these poor people felt While they did underneath those burnings melt? Now these, and many more that I could name, That have been made partakers of the flame And sword of justice, God did then cut off, And make examples unto all that scoff At holiness, or do the gospel slight; And long it will not be before the night And judgment, painted out by what he did To Sodom and Gomorrah, fulfilled Upon such sinners be, that they may now That God doth hate the sin, and persons too. Of such as still rebellious shall abide, Although they now at judgment may deride.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] On the reverse of the title-page is the following singular advertisement:—'This author having published many books, which have gone off very well, there are certain ballad-sellers about Newgate, and on London Bridge, who have put the two first letters of this author's name, and his effigies, to their rhymes and ridiculous books, suggesting to the world as if they were his. Now know, that this author publisheth his name at large to all his books; and what you shall see otherwise, he disowns.'—Ed.

[2] 'Convert,' for 'be ye converted,' was a common mode of speech in Bunyan's time. It is so used in Holy Writ, Isaiah 6:10.—Ed.

[3] Armorial bearings as now worn by heralds embroidered on the tabard or coat.—Ed.

[4] A common custom when death takes place. The two great toes are tied together, to make the body look decent; and formerly the hands were placed with the palms together, as if in the attitude of prayer, and were kept in that posture by tying the thumbs together.—Ed.

[5] Without fail, or in spite of all hindrance.—Ed.

[6] Alluding to wrestlers. Some modes of throwing each other down are called fair, others foul or unfair.—Ed.

[7] Sincerity is the fountain and source of all real inquiries after truth, holiness, and heaven. It leads to personal examination of God's Word, which leads us from the complexity of human inventions to the simplicity of the gospel.—Ed

[8] The exact spelling of Bunyan is here followed; but whether he meant 'coped,' 'covered,' or 'cooped'—inclosed, or shut in—must be left to the reader's judgment. I prefer the latter.—Ed.

[9] Fit, convenient. 'Deft' is now obsolete.—Ed.

[10] Full of fear and dread. Bunyan, in his Holy War, brings his immense armies of doubters, under General Incredulity, from Hell-gate Hill.—Ed.

[11] Quick, nimble, active, powerful spirits. Wight is now obsolete, except in irony; see Imperial Dictionary.—Ed.

[12] See note on verse fifty of the Meditations on Heaven.—Ed.

[13] This is a common temptation. Job felt it, and murmured at having been born, Job 3:3, and 10:18, 19. Jeremiah passed through the same experience, Jeremiah 20:14, 15. Bunyan had the same bitter feelings, and wished himself a dog or toad; see Grace Abounding, No. 104. Colonel Gardener was similarly tried. How awful is the havoc that sin has made with human happiness.-Ed.

[14] The finest particles or atoms of matter—

'As thick, as numberless 'As the gay motes that people the sunbeams.'—Milton.—Ed.

[15] How does this remind us of the awfully impressive cries of the man in the iron cage—'O, eternity, eternity! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity!' 'A thousand deaths live in him, he not dead.'—Ed.

[16] From the Saxon scendan, to violate, spoil, revile; see Imperial Dictionary.—Ed.

[17] Altered by poetical license from 'bran.' Chaucer, in one instance, spells it 'bren,' to rhyme with men.—Ed.

[18] This evidently refers to a coin value four-penny half-penny, and, like a cracked groat, not so much prized as good coin. In Turner's Remarkable Providences, folio, 1697, pages 28, is a very singular allusion to one of these coins:—'Christian, the wife of R. Green, of Brenham, Somersetshire, in 1663, made a covenant with the devil. He pricked the fourth finger off her right hand, between the middle and upper joint, and took two drops of her blood on his finger, giving her four-pence half-penny. He then vanished, leaving a smell of brimstone behind.'—Ed.

***

A Book for Boys and Girls Or, Temporal Things Spritualized.

by John Bunyan,

Licensed and entered according to order.

London: Printed for, and sold by, R. Tookey, at his Printing House in St. Christopher's Court, in Threadneedle Street, behind the Royal Exchange, 1701.

Advertisement by the Editor.

Some degree of mystery hangs over these Divine Emblems for children, and many years' diligent researches have not enabled me completely to solve it. That they were written by Bunyan, there cannot be the slightest doubt.

'Manner and matter, too, are all his own.'[1]

But no book, under the title of Divine Emblems, is mentioned in any catalogue or advertisements of Bunyan's works, published during his life; nor in those more complete lists printed by his personal friends, immediately after his death. In all these lists, as well as in many advertisement, both before, and shortly after Mr. Bunyan's death, a little book for children is constantly introduced, which, judging from the title, must have been similar to, if not the same as, these Emblems; but the Editor has not been able to discover a copy of the first edition, although every inquiry has been made for it, both in the United Kingdom and America. It was advertised in 1688, as Country Rhymes for Children, upon seventy-four things.[2] It is also advertised, in the same year, as A Book for Boys and Girls, or Country Rhymes for Children, price 6d.[3] In 1692, it is included in Charles Doe's catalogue table of all Mr. Bunyan's books, appended to The Struggler for their preservation, No. 36; Meditations on seventy-four things, published in 1685, and not reprinted during the author's life. In Charles Doe's second catalogue of all Mr. Bunyan's books, appended to the first edition of the Heavenly Footman, March 1698, it is No. 37. A Book for Boys and Girls, or Country Rhymes for Children, in verse, on seventy-four things. This catalogue describes every work, word for word, as it is in the several title pages. In 1707 it had reached a third edition, and was 'ornamented with cuts';[4] and the title is altered to A Book for Boys and Girls, or Temporal Things Spiritualized, with cuts. In 1720, it was advertised, 'price, bound, 6d.'[5] In Keach's Glorious Lover, it is advertised by Marshall, in 12mo. price 1s. In 1724, it assumed its present title, and from that time was repeatedly advertised as Divine Emblems, or Temporal Things Spiritualized, fitted for the use of boys and girls, adorned with cuts.

By indefatigable exertions, my excellent friend and brother collector of old English bibles, James Dix, Esq., Bristol, has just discovered and presented to me the second edition of this very rare little volume, in fine preservation, from which it appears, that in 1701, the title page was altered from Country Rhymes and Meditations, to A Book for Boys and Girls, or Temporal Things Spiritualized. It has no cuts, but, with that exception, it contains exactly the same subjects as the subsequent editions published under the more popular title of Divine Emblems.

The only difficulty that remains is to discover seventy-four meditations in the forty-nine Emblems. This may be readily done, if the subjects of meditation are drawn out. Thus, the first emblem contains meditations on two things, the Barren Fig-tree, and God's Vineyard. So the second has a meditation on the Lark and the Fowler, and another on the comparison between the Fowler and Satan. Upon this plan, the volume contains exactly seventy-four meditations.

Under the title of Divine Emblems, it has passed through a multitude of editions, and many thousand copies have been circulated. It was patronized in those early efforts of the Religious Tract Society, which have been so abundantly blessed in introducing wholesome food to the young, instead of the absurd romances which formerly poisoned the infant and youthful mind.

Among these numerous editions, two deserve special notice. The first of these was published in 1757, 'on a curious paper, and good letter, with new cuts.' It has a singular preface, signed J. D., addressed 'to the great Boys, in folio, and the little ones in coats.' The first eight pages are occupied with a dissertation on the origin of language, perhaps arising from a line in the dialogue between a sinner and spider, 'My name entailed is to my creation.' In this preface, he learnedly attempts to prove that language was the gift of God by revelation, and not a gradual acquirement of man as his wants multiplied. The other remarkable edition was published about 1790.[6] It is, both the text and cuts, printed from copperplate engravings, very handsomely executed. This is an honour conferred upon very few authors;[7] nor was it ever conferred upon one more worthy the highest veneration of man than is the immortal allegorist.

The number of editions which have been printed of these little engaging poems, is a proof of the high estimation in which they have been held for nearly one hundred and seventy years; and the great rarity of the early copies shows the eager interest with which they have been read by children until utterly destroyed.

The cuts were at first exceedingly coarse and rude, but were much improved in the more modern copies. Those to Mason's edition are handsome. The engraver has dressed all his actors in the costume of the time of George the Third; the women with hooped petticoats and high head dresses; clergymen with five or six tier wigs; men with cocked hats and queues; and female servants with mob caps. That to Emblem Fifteen, upon the sacraments, is peculiarly droll; the artist, forgetting that the author was a Baptist, represents a baby brought to the font to be christened! and two persons kneeling before the body of our Lord!

GEO. OFFOR.

TO THE READER.

COURTEOUS READER,

The title page will show, if there thou look, Who are the proper subjects of this book. They're boys and girls of all sorts and degrees, From those of age to children on the knees. Thus comprehensive am I in my notions, They tempt me to it by their childish motions. We now have boys with beards, and girls that be Big[8]as old women, wanting gravity. Then do not blame me, 'cause I thus describe them. Flatter I may not, lest thereby I bribe them To have a better judgment of themselves, Than wise men have of babies on their shelves.[9] Their antic tricks, fantastic modes, and way, Show they, like very boys and girls, do play With all the frantic fopperies of this age, And that in open view, as on a stage; Our bearded men do act like beardless boys; Our women please themselves with childish toys. Our ministers, long time, by word and pen, Dealt with them, counting them not boys, but men. Thunderbolts they shot at them and their toys, But hit them not, 'cause they were girls and boys. The better charg'd, the wider still they shot, Or else so high, these dwarfs they touched not. Instead of men, they found them girls and boys, Addict to nothing as to childish toys. Wherefore, good reader, that I save them may, I now with them the very dotterel[10] play; And since at gravity they make a tush, My very beard I cast behind a bush; And like a fool stand fing'ring of their toys, And all to show them they are girls and boys. Nor do I blush, although I think some may Call me a baby, 'cause I with them play. I do't to show them how each fingle-fangle On which they doting are, their souls entangle, As with a web, a trap, a gin, or snare; And will destroy them, have they not a care. Paul seemed to play the fool, that he might gain Those that were fools indeed, if not in grain;[11] And did it by their things, that they might know Their emptiness, and might be brought unto What would them save from sin and vanity, A noble act, and full of honesty. Yet he nor I would like them be in vice, While by their playthings I would them entice, To mount their thoughts from what are childish toys, To heaven, for that's prepared for girls and boys. Nor do I so confine myself to these, As to shun graver things; I seek to please Those more compos'd with better things than toys; Though thus I would be catching girls and boys. Wherefore, if men have now a mind to look, Perhaps their graver fancies may be took With what is here, though but in homely rhymes: But he who pleases all must rise betimes. Some, I persuade me, will be finding fault, Concluding, here I trip, and there I halt: No doubt some could those grovelling notions raise By fine-spun terms, that challenge might the bays. But should all men be forc'd to lay aside Their brains that cannot regulate the tide By this or that man's fancy, we should have The wise unto the fool become a slave. What though my text seems mean, my morals be Grave, as if fetch'd from a sublimer tree. And if some better handle[12] can a fly, Than some a text, why should we then deny Their making proof, or good experiment, Of smallest things, great mischiefs to prevent? Wise Solomon did fools to piss-ants[13] send, To learn true wisdom, and their lies to mend. Yea, God by swallows, cuckoos, and the ass,[14] Shows they are fools who let that season pass, Which he put in their hand, that to obtain Which is both present and eternal gain. I think the wiser sort my rhymes may slight, But what care I, the foolish will delight To read them, and the foolish God has chose, And doth by foolish things their minds compose, And settle upon that which is divine; Great things, by little ones, are made to shine. I could, were I so pleas'd, use higher strains: And for applause on tenters[15] stretch my brains. But what needs that? the arrow, out of sight, Does not the sleeper, nor the watchman fright; To shoot too high doth but make children gaze, 'Tis that which hits the man doth him amaze. And for the inconsiderableness Of things, by which I do my mind express, May I by them bring some good thing to pass, As Samson, with the jawbone of an ass; Or as brave Shamgar, with his ox's goad (Both being things not manly, nor for war in mode), I have my end, though I myself expose To scorn; God will have glory in the close.

J.B.

A BOOK FOR BOYS AND GIRLS, &c.

DIVINE EMBLEMS, OR TEMPORAL THINGS SPIRITUALIZED, &c.

I.

UPON THE BARREN FIG-TREE IN GOD'S VINEYARD

What, barren here! in this so good a soil? The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil From giving thee his blessing; barren tree, Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be! Art thou not planted by the water-side? Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified? The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree: Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be. Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too, Will neither patience nor yet dressing do? The executioner is come, O tree, Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be! He that about thy roots takes pains to dig, Would, if on thee were found but one good fig, Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree, Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be! The utmost end of patience is at hand, 'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand. O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree. Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be! Thy standing nor they name will help at all; When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall. The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree! Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.

II.

UPON THE LARK AND THE FOWLER.

Thou simple bird, what makes thou here to play? Look, there's the fowler, pr'ythee come away. Do'st not behold the net? Look there, 'tis spread, Venture a little further, thou art dead. Is there not room enough in all the field For thee to play in, but thou needs must yield To the deceitful glitt'ring of a glass, Plac'd betwixt nets, to bring thy death to pass? Bird, if thou art so much for dazzling light, Look, there's the sun above thee; dart upright; Thy nature is to soar up to the sky, Why wilt thou come down to the nets and die? Take no heed to the fowler's tempting call; This whistle, he enchanteth birds withal. Or if thou see'st a live bird in his net, Believe she's there, 'cause hence she cannot get. Look how he tempteth thee with is decoy, That he may rob thee of thy life, thy joy. Come, pr'ythee bird, I pr'ythee come away, Why should this net thee take, when 'scape thou may? Hadst thou not wings, or were thy feathers pull'd, Or wast thou blind, or fast asleep wer't lull'd, The case would somewhat alter, but for thee, Thy eyes are ope, and thou hast wings to flee. Remember that thy song is in thy rise, Not in thy fall; earth's not thy paradise. Keep up aloft, then, let thy circuits be Above, where birds from fowler's nets are free.

Comparison.

This fowler is an emblem of the devil, His nets and whistle, figures of all evil. His glass an emblem is of sinful pleasure, And his decoy of who counts sin a treasure. This simple lark's a shadow of a saint, Under allurings, ready now to faint. This admonisher a true teacher is, Whose works to show the soul the snare and bliss, And how it may this fowler's net escape, And not commit upon itself this rape.

III.

UPON THE VINE-TREE.

What is the vine, more than another tree? Nay most, than it, more tall, more comely be. What workman thence will take a beam or pin, To make ought which may be delighted in? Its excellency in its fruit doth lie: A fruitless vine, it is not worth a fly.

Comparison.

What are professors more than other men? Nothing at all. Nay, there's not one in ten, Either for wealth, or wit, that may compare, In many things, with some that carnal are. Good are they, if they mortify their sin, But without that, they are not worth a pin.

IV.

MEDITATIONS UPON AN EGG.

1.

The egg's no chick by falling from the hen; Nor man a Christian, till he's born again. The egg's at first contained in the shell; Men, afore grace, in sins and darkness dwell. The egg, when laid, by warmth is made a chicken, And Christ, by grace, those dead in sin doth quicken. The egg, when first a chick, the shell's its prison; So's flesh to the soul, who yet with Christ is risen. The shell doth crack, the chick doth chirp and peep, The flesh decays, as men do pray and weep. The shell doth break, the chick's at liberty, The flesh falls off, the soul mounts up on high But both do not enjoy the self-same plight; The soul is safe, the chick now fears the kite.

2.

But chicks from rotten eggs do not proceed, Nor is a hypocrite a saint indeed. The rotten egg, though underneath the hen, If crack'd, stinks, and is loathsome unto men. Nor doth her warmth make what is rotten sound; What's rotten, rotten will at last be found. The hypocrite, sin has him in possession, He is a rotten egg under profession.

3.

Some eggs bring cockatrices; and some men Seem hatch'd and brooded in the viper's den. Some eggs bring wild-fowls; and some men there be As wild as are the wildest fowls that flee. Some eggs bring spiders, and some men appear More venom'd than the worst of spiders are.[16] Some eggs bring piss-ants, and some seem to me As much for trifles as the piss-ants be. Thus divers eggs do produce divers shapes, As like some men as monkeys are like apes. But this is but an egg, were it a chick, Here had been legs, and wings, and bones to pick.

V.

OF FOWLS FLYING IN THE AIR.

Methinks I see a sight most excellent, 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.