Yet fince your Brethren pleafed with it be,
Forbear to judge, till you do further fee.

If that thou wilt not read, let it alone;
Some love the meat, fome love to pick the bone:
Yea, that I might them better palliate,
I did too with them thus Expoftulate:
May I not write in fuch a ftile as this?
In fuch a method too, and yet not miss

Mine end, thy good? why may it not be done?
Dark Clouds bring Waters, when the bright bring none.
Yea, dark or bright, if they their Silver drops
Caufe to defcend; the Earth, by yielding Crops,
Gives praife to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the Fruit they yield together;
Yea, so commixes both, that in her Fruit
None can diftinguish this from that; they fuit
Her well, when hungry: but if she be full,
She fpues out both, and makes their blessings null.
You fee the ways the Fisher-man doth take
To catch the Fish; what Engines doth he make?
Behold how he engageth all his Wits;

Alfo his Snares, Lines, Angles, Hooks, and Nets:
Yet Fish there be, that neither Hook, nor Line,
Nor Snare, nor Net, nor Engine can make thine ;
They must be grop't for, and be tickled too,
Or they will not be catch't, what e're you do.

How doth the Fowler feek to catch his Game
By divers means, all which one cannot name?
His Gun, his Nets, his Lime-twigs, light and bell:
He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell
Of all his poftures, Yet there's none of these
Will make him mafter of what Fowls he pleafe.

Yea, he must Pipe and Whistle, to catch this,
Yet if he does fo, that Bird he will miss.

If that a Pearl may in a Toad's head dwell,
And may be found too in an Oyfter-shell ;
If things that promife nothing, do contain
What better is than Gold; who will difdain,
(That have an Inkling of it,) there to look,
That they may find it? Now my little Book,
(Though void of all those paintings that may make

It with this or the other Man to take)

Is not without thofe things that do excel
What do in brave, but empty, notions dwell.
Well, yet I am not fully fatisfied,

That this your Book will stand when foundly try'd.
Why, what's the matter! it is dark, what tho'?
But it is feigned: What of that I tro?

Some men by feigning words, as dark as mine,
Make truth to Spangle, and its rayes to shine.
But they want folidnefs: Speak man thy mind:
They drownd the weak; Metaphors make us blind.
Solidity, indeed, becomes the Pen

Of him that writeth things Divine to men:
But must I needs want folidnefs, because

By Metaphors I fpeak; Was not God's Laws,
His Gospel-Laws, in older time held forth
By Types, Shadows and Metaphors? Yet loth
Will any fober man be to find fault
With them, left he be found for to affault
The highest Wisdom: No, he rather stoops,
And Jeeks to find out what by pins and loops,
By Calves; and Sheep; by Heifers, and by Rams,
By Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs,

God fpeaketh to him: And happy is he

That finds the light, and grace that in them be.

Be not too forward therefore to conclude
That I want folidnefs; that I am rude:
All things folid in fhew, not solid be;
All things in parables defpife not we,
Left things most hurtful lightly we receive;
And things that good are, of our fouls bereave.
My dark and cloudy words they do but hold
The Truth, as Cabinets inclose the Gold.

The Prophets ufed much by Metaphors
To fet forth Truth; Yea, whofo confiders
Chrift, his Apoftles too, fhall plainly fee,
That Truths to this day in fuch Mantles be.
Am I afraid to fay that holy Writ

Which for its Style and Phrafe puts down all Wit,
Is every where fo full of all these things,
(Dark Figures, Allegories) yet there fprings
From that fame Book, that luftre, and those rays
Of light, that turn our 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 things there are worfe lines too.
May we but ftand before impartial men,
To his poor One, I durft adventure Ten,
That they will take my meaning in thefe lines
Far better than his Lies in Silver Shrines.
Come, Truth, altho' in Swaddling-clouts, I find
Informs the Judgment, rectifies the mind;
Pleafes the Understanding, makes the Will
Submit; the Memory too it doth fill

With what doth our Imagination please;
Likewife it tends our troubles to appease.

Sound words I know, Timothy is to use,
And old Wives Fables he is to refuse;

But yet grave Paul, him no where doth forbid
The ufe of Parables; in which lay hid

That Gold, thofe Pearls, and precious ftones that were

Worth digging for; and that with greatest care.

Let me add one word more. O man of God!
Art thou offended? dost thou wish I had
Put forth my matter in another dress,
Or that I had in things been more express?
Three things let me propound, then I submit
To thofe that are my betters, (as is fit).
1. I find not that I am denied the use
Of this my method, fo I no abufe

Put on the Words, Things, Readers, or be rude
In handling Figure, or Similitude,

In application; but, all that I may,

Seek the advance of Truth, this or that way:
Deny'd, did I fay? Nay, I have leave,
(Example too, and that from them that have
God better pleafed by their words or ways,
Than any man that breatheth now a-days)
Thus to express my mind, thus to declare
Things unto thee, that excellenteft are.

2. I find that men (as high as Trees) will write Dialogue-wife; yet no man doth them flight, For writing fo: Indeed if they abuse

Truth, curfed be they, and the craft they use
To that intent; But yet let Truth be free
To make her falleys upon Thee, and Me.

Which way it pleafes God: For who knows how,
Better than he that taught us first to Plough,
To guide our Mind and Pens for his Design?
And he makes base things usher in Divine.

3. I find that holy Writ in many places
Hath femblance with this method, where the cafes
Do call for one thing, to fet forth another;
Ufe it I may then, and yet nothing mother
Truth's golden Beams; Nay, by this method may
Make it caft forth its rays as light as day.
And now, before I do put up my Pen,
I'll fhew the profit of my Book, and then
Commit both thee and it unto that hand

That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones ftand.
This Book it chalketh out before thine eyes
The man that feeks the everlasting Prize;
It fhews you whence he comes, whither he goes,
What he leaves undone; also what he does:
It also fhews you how he runs, and runs
Till be unto the Gate of Glory comes.

It shows too, who fet out for life amain,
As if the lafting Crown they would attain:
Here alfo you may fee the reason why
They lofe their labour, and like Fools do die.

This book will make a Traveller of thee,
If by its Counsel thou wilt ruled be;
It will direct thee to the Holy Land,
If thou wilt its Directions understand:
Yea, it will make the flothful, active be;
The Blind alfo delightful things to fee.

Art thou for fomething rare, and profitable?
Wouldeft thou fee a Truth within a Fable?