God speaketh to him; and full happy he My dark and cloudy words they do but hold The truth as cabinets inclose the gold. The prophets used much by metaphors To set forth truth; yea, whoso considers Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see, That truths to this day in such mantles be. I'm not afraid to say that Holy Writ, Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit, Is every where so full of all these things, (Dark figures, allegories,) yet there springs From the same book, that lustre, and those rays Of light, that turn out darkest nights to days. Come, let my carper to his life now look, And find there darker lines than in my book He findeth any; yea, and let him know, That in his best lines there are worse lines too. May we but stand before impartial men, To this poor one I dare adventure ten, That they will take my meaning in these lines Come, TRUTH, although in swaddling clouts I find, With what doth our imagination please : Sound words I know TIMOTHY is to use, But yet grave PAUL him no where did forbid That gold, those pearls, and precious stones, that were Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude In application: but all that I may way. Denied, did I say? Nay I have leave 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write Which way it pleases God; for who knows how, 3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places, That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand. It shews, too, who set out for life amain, If thou wilt its directions understand; Art thou for something rare and profitable? Art thou forgetful? Or would'st thou remember As may the minds of listless men affect; Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. Would'st thou divert thyself from melancholy? Would'st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly? Would'st thou read riddles and their explanation Or else be drowned in thy contemplation? Dost thou love picking meat? Or would'st thou sce A man i' th' clouds and hear him speak to thee? Would'st thou be in a dream and yet not sleep? Or, would'st thou in a moment laugh and weep? Or would'st thou lose thyself, and catch no harm? And find thyself again without a charm? Would'st read thyself, and read thou know'st not what, And yet know whether thou art bless'd or not, By reading the same lines? O then come hither! And lay my book, thy head and heart together. JOHN BUNYAN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. PART 1. As I walked through the wilderness of this world I lighted on a certain place where was a den,* and I laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept I dreamed a dream.† I dreamed, and behold I saw a man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, ¶ a book in his hand, and a great burthen upon his back. || I looked and saw him open the book and read therein; and as he read, he wept and trembled; and not being longer * The den in which he wrote this instructing allegory was Bedford gaol, where he was confined twelve years for conscience' sake. The Lord answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. Hab. ii. 2. But we are all as an unclean thing, and all our righteousnesses arc as filthy rags. Isa. Ixiv. 6. ¶ Whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple. Luke xvi. 33. || Mine iniquities are gone over mine head; as an heavy burden they are too heavy for me. Psal. xxxviii. 4. A |