But without eyes, alas! how can he see?
Many that seem to look here, blind men be.
This is the reason they so often read
Their judgment there, and do it nothing dread.

XL.

OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

upon;

THE love of Christ, poor I! may touch
But 'tis unsearchable. O! there is none
Its large dimensions can comprehend
Should they dilate thereon world without end.
When we had sinned, in his zeal he sware,
That he upon his back our sins would bear.
And since unto sin is entailed death,

He vowed for our sins he'd lose his breath.
He did not only say, vow, or resolve,
But to astonishment did so involve
Himself in man's distress and misery,
As for, and with him, both to live and die.
To his eternal fame in sacred story,
We find that he did lay aside his glory,
Stepped from the throne of highest dignity,
Became poor man, did in a manger lie;
Yea, was beholden unto his for bread,
Had, of his own, not where to lay his head;
Though rich, he did for us become thus poor,
That he might make us rich for evermore.
Nor was this but the least of what he did,
But the outside of what he suffered?
God made his blessed son under the law,
Under the curse, which, like the lion's paw,
Did rent and tear his soul for mankind's sin,
More than if we for it in hell had been.
His cries, his tears, and bloody agony,
The nature of his death doth testify.
Nor did he of constraint himself thus give,
For sin, to death, that man might with him live.
He did do what he did most willingly,

He sung, and gave God thanks, that he must die.
But do kings use to die for captive slaves?
Yet we were such when Jesus died to save's.
Yea, when he made himself a sacrifice,
It was that he might save his enemies.
And though he was provoked to retract
His blest resolves for such so good an act,
By the abusive carriages of those

That did both him, his love, and grace oppose;
Yet he, as unconcerned with such things,
Goes on, determines to make captives kings;
Yea, many of his murderers he takes
Into his favour, and them princes makes.

XLI.

ON THE CACKLING OF A HEN.

THE hen, so soon as she an egg doth lay, (Spreads the fame of her doing what she may.)

SHE goes but softly, but she goeth sure,
She stumbles not, as stronger creatures do.
Her journey's shorter, so she may endure

Better than they which do much farther go. She makes no noise, but stilly seizeth on

The flower or herb appointed for her food, The which she quietly doth feed upon While others range and glare, but find no good. And though she doth but very softly go,

However, 'tis not fast nor slow, but sure; And certainly they that do travel so,

The prize they do aim at they do procure.

Comparison.

Although they seem not much to stir, less go,

For Christ that hunger, or from wrath that flee, Yet what they seek for quickly they come to,

Though it doth seem the farthest off to be. One act of faith doth bring them to that flower They so long for, that they may eat and live, Which, to attain, is not in others power,

Though for it a king's ransom they would give. Then let none faint, nor be at all dismayed That life by Christ do seek, they shall not fail To have it; let them nothing be afraid;

The herb and flower are eaten by the snail.'

XLIV.

OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST.

Who's this that cometh from the wilderness, Like smoky pillars thus perfum'd with myrrh,

1 If the crawling snail finds food, wherefore do ye doubt, O! ye of little faith.-(ED.)

Leaning upon her dearest in distress,

Led into's bosom by the Comforter?

She's clothed with the sun, crowned with twelve stars,

The spotted moon her footstool she hath made. The dragon her assaults, fills her with jars,

Yet rests she under her Beloved's shade, But whence was she? what is her pedigree?

Was not her father a poor Amorite? What was her mother but as others be,

A poor, a wretched, and a sinful Hittite. Yea, as for her, the day that she was born,

As loathsome, out of doors they did her cast; Naked and filthy, stinking and forlorn;

This was her pedigree from first to last. Nor was she pitied in this estate,

All let her lie polluted in her blood: None her condition did commiserate,

There was no heart that sought to do her good. Yet she unto these ornaments is come,

Her breasts are fashioned, her hair is grown;
She is made heiress of the best kingdom;

All her indignities away are blown.
Cast out she was, but now she home is taken,

Naked (sometimes), but now, you see, she's cloth'd; Now made the darling, though before forsaken,

Barefoot, but now as princes' daughters shod. Instead of filth, she now has her perfumes;

Instead of ignominy, her chains of gold:
Instead of what the beauty most consumes,
Her beauty's perfect, lovely to behold.
Those that attend and wait upon her be

Princes of honour, clothed in white array;
Upon her head's a crown of gold, and she
Eats wheat, honey, and oil, from day to day.
For her beloved, he's the high'st of all,

The only Potentate, the King of kings:
Angels and men do him Jehovah call,

And from him life and glory always springs. He's white and ruddy, and of all the chief:

His head, his locks, his eyes, his hands, and feet, Do, for completeness, out-go all belief;

His cheeks like flowers are, his mouth most
sweet.

As for his wealth, he is made heir of all;
What is in heaven, what is on earth is his :
And he this lady his joint-heir doth call,

Of all that shall be, or at present is.
Well, lady, well, God has been good to thee;
Thou of an outcast, now art made a queen.
Few, or none, may with thee compared be,

A beggar made thus high is seldom seen.
Take heed of pride, remember what thou art

By nature, though thou hast in grace a share, Thou in thyself dost yet retain a part

Of thine own filthiness; wherefore beware. VOL. III.

XLV.

UPON A SKILFUL PLAYER ON AN INSTRUMENT.

He that can play well on an instrument,
Will take the ear, and captivate the mind
With mirth or sadness; for that it is bent
Thereto, as music in it place doth find.
But if one hears that hath therein no skill,

(As often music lights of such a chance) Of its brave notes they soon be weary will:

And there are some can neither sing nor dance.

Comparison.

UNTO him that thus skilfully doth play,
God doth compare a gospel-minister,
That rightly preacheth, and doth godly pray,

Applying truly what doth thence infer.
This man, whether of wrath or grace he preach,
So skilfully doth handle every word;
And by his saying doth the heart so reach,

That it doth joy or sigh before the Lord. But some there be, which, as the brute, doth lie Under the Word, without the least advance Godward; such do despise the ministry; They weep not at it, neither to it dance.

XLVI.

OF MAN BY NATURE.

FROM God he's a backslider,
Of ways he loves the wider;
With wickedness a sider,
More venom than a spider.
In sin he's a considerer,
A make-bate and divider;
Blind reason is his guider,
The devil is his rider.

XLVII.

UPON THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD.

CHILDREN become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Their sinful nature prompts them to rebel,
And to delight in paths that lead to hell.
Their parents' love and care they overlook,
As if relation had them quite forsook.
They take the counsels of the wanton's, rather
Than the most grave instructions of a father.
They reckon parents ought to do for them,
Though they the fifth commandment do contemn;
They snap and snarl if parents them control,
Though but in things most hurtful to the soul.
They reckon they are masters, and that we
Who parents are, should to them subject be!

96

If parents fain would have a hand in choosing,
The children have a heart will in refusing.
They'll by wrong doings, under parents gather,
And say it is no sin to rob a father.

They'll jostle parents out of place and power,
They'll make themselves the head, and them devour.
How many children, by becoming head,

Ilave brought their parents to a piece of bread!
Thus they who, at the first, were parents' joy,
Turn that to bitterness, themselves destroy.

But, wretched child, how canst thou thus requite
Thy aged parents, for that great delight
They took in thee, when thou, as helpless, lay
In their indulgent bosoms day by day?

Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth,
Took care thou shouldst want neither food nor cloth.
Thy father glad was at his very heart,
Had he to thee a portion to impart.
Comfort they promised themselves in thee,
But thou, it seems, to them a grief wilt be.
How oft, how willingly brake they their sleep,
If thou, their bantling, didst but winch or weep.
Their love to thee was such they could have giv'n,
That thou mightst live, almost their part of heav'n.
But now, behold how they rewarded are!
For their indulgent love and tender care;
All is forgot, this love he doth despise.
They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.

XLVIII.

UPON A SHEET OF WHITE PAPER.

THIS subject is unto the foulest pen, Or fairest handled by the sons of men.

"Twill also show what is upon it writ,
Be it wisely, or nonsense for want of wit,
Each blot and blur it also will expose
To thy next readers, be they friends or foes.

Comparison.

SOME Souls are like unto this blank or sheet,
Though not in whiteness. The next man they meet,
If wise or fool, debauched or deluder,
Or what you will, the dangerous intruder
May write thereon, to cause that man to err
In doctrine or in life, with blot and blur.
Nor will that soul conceal from who observes,
But show how foul it is, wherein it swerves.
A reading man may know who was the writer,
And, by the hellish nonsense, the inditer.

XLIX.

UPON FIRE.

WHо falls into the fire shall burn with heat; While those remote scorn from it to retreat. Yea, while those in it, cry out, O! I burn, Some farther off those cries to laughter turn.

Comparison.

WHILE some tormented are in hell for sin; On earth some greatly do delight therein. Yea, while some make it echo with their cry, Others count it a fable and a lie.'

1 Fools make a mock at sin. The scorner occupies a prond, an elevated seat, which will sink under him, and crush him down to everlasting destruction. The threatenings and pr mises of God stand sure for ever.-(ED.)

I. HE was a very able and excellent minister of the | gospel; viz., able to express himself, and had excellent matter known to all Christians that have heard him preach.

II. He became thus able and excellent a minister by a great degree of Gospel Grace bestowed upon his own soul, more than probable for that very end; for that God wrought him from a very great profane sinner, and an illiterate poor man, to this profound understanding the true or genuine spiritual meaning of the Scriptures, whereby he could experimentally preach to souls with power, and affection, and apostolical learning, the true nature of the gospel.

III. God's bestowing such great grace, to turn so great a sinner, to make such a great gospel labourer, and thrust him into his harvest, argues there was great nced, and therefore without question his labours ought to be preserved.

IV. Our Bunyan being so graciously, by the Lord of the harvest, thrust into labour, clearly shows to us, (and may by this preservation to future ages), that God is not bound to human means of learned education (though learning may be useful in its place), but can, when he will, make a minister of the gospel without man's forecast of education, and in spite of all the men in the world that would oppose it, though it be above sixteen hundred years after the apostles.

V. Many thousands had the soul benefit and comfort of his ministry to astonishment, as if an angel or an apostle had touched their souls with a coal of holy fire from the altar.

VI. This excellent operation of the special grace of God in him, and the gift of utterance when he preached, confounded the wisdom of his adversaries that heard him, or heard of him, he being, as it is commonly called, unlearned, or had not school education.

VII. For all these reasons before-mentioned, of the spirituality of his preaching, his labours in writing deserve preservation by printing as much as any other famous man's that have writ since the apostles' time.

VIII. Moreover he hath been a Christian sufferer for above twelve years, by imprisonment, whereby he sealed to the truth he preached.

IX. Yet, for all that imprisonment, he preached then, and there, and afterwards abroad, as a faithful labourer for the salvation of souls.

X. And he was not a man that preached by way of bargain for money, for he hath refused a more plentiful income to keep his station.

XI. And his moderation, or desire of money, was as the apostle Paul's practice, below his privilege; so that he did not, when he died, leave much wealth to his family.

XII. And the Church that wants such a pastor may

find it long before they get one, and therefore ought to respect our Bunyan's labours

XIII. If God had not put it into the heart of some Christians or Church to preserve the Epistles of the Apostle to the Romans, Corinthians, Galatians, and others, we in this age of the world should in all probability never have known that there ever were any such Christians and doctrines; their names and doctrines might have been lost, and we might have perished, and that would have been dreadful; for God mostly works by second causes.

XIV. And why should any Christian people, that have reason to reckon themselves obliged herein, set themselves aside from communicating to other Christians and the ages to come the gospel labours of so eminent a minister as God so graciously honoured and assisted them with?

XV. And if these labours (of, as I may say, an apostle of our age, if we have any) are not preserved by printing thus in folio, most of them in all probability will be lost, for there are many of them have been out of print many years, and will never otherwise be printed again because of the charge, &c.

XVI. By the late Act for liberty of conscience, it is lawful now to print the works of dissenters, though it was not so formerly; therefore much danger cannot plead excuse.

XVII. It is a good work without controversy, and therefore there can be no scruple of conscience about its pleasing God.

XVIII. There is also to the subscribers a further benefit in this folio; for, whereas these twenty books would, if bought single, cost nigh twenty shillings now, as printed in folio they will have them for about twelve shillings bound together in one volume, which conveniency also prevents losing.

XIX. These ten manuscripts, which were never before printed, would, if printed in small books, and bought single, cost almost the money that these twenty in folio comes for, which is great odds.

XX. Not to preserve his labours and name, which are so great, is a disingenuous slighting or despising them, and serving them no better than a wicked man's that rots. Bunyan hath preached, and freely bestowed many a good and gospel-truth, and soul-reviving expression; for which of them doth any of his friends slight him? Nay, do not they rather owe him something for his labour he bestowed on them, as Philemon did to Paul?

XXI. The price of the first part will be an easier purchase than of the whole; and all in one volume would be somewhat too big in bulk and price.

XXII. There is need of printing these books now, because errors and superstitions, like the smoke of the