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PREFACE.

By ALEXANDER SMITH,

Al'THOR OF DREAMTHORP, ETC.

[OHX BUXYAX has written his biography in brief in the sentence which opens "The Pilgrim's Progrels "—"As I walked through the wildernefs of this world, I lighted on a certain place where there was a den, and I laid me down in that place to sleep 5 and as I slept, I dreamed a dream." He dreamed his dream ; he told it in the moft childlike w^y ; and now the \\'orld will as soon forget Shakfpeare as it will forget him. He is the prince of dreamers, as Homer is the prince of poets. The scenery of his vilion has become familiar as the scenery which surrounds our homes. We

know the whole courle of the journey—from the City of Deftru6tion to the Slough of Defpond ; pall the Houfe of the Interpreter J up Hill Difficulty j the meeting of Chriftian \\'ith the Maidens, Piety, Prudence, and Charity ; Chriftian's rell in the " large upper chamber whole window opened toward the sun-riling," the name of which chamber was Peace 5 the journey down into the Valley of the Shadow of Death : the combat which took place there ; Vanity Fair and the burning of Faithful ; the im-prifonment of Hopeful and Chriftian by the Giant, and their efcape; the Delectable Mountains, with the Golden City seen in the dillance shining like a star ; the Land of Beulah -, the paflage acrofs the dark river, with troops of angels, and melody of hymns and trumpets, waiting the pilgrims on the further bank j—all this every boy knows as he knows the way ih school—with this every man is familiar as with his perlbnal experience—and the curious thing is, that the incidents and the scenery which we accept with such belief are but the dark conceits and shadows of things; in all there is more than meets the eye. Under everything lies the moll solemn meanings. "The Pilgrim's Progrels" is not only the moll enchanting story in the w orld, it is one of the bell manuals of theology. The boy devours it as he does " Robinlbn Crulbe;" the devout man values it next to his Bible. As a story, it is full of the moll charming, moll natural, sometimes moll terrible things. In the second part—which, compared with the lirll, is as the

Odylley to the Iliad—what can be prettier than the bov sitting singing in the \'alley of Humihation with the herb Hearfs Eafe in his bolbm ? Read the light between Chriltian and Apollyon, and note the touch of imagination—" In this combat no man can imagine, unlefs he had seen and heard as I did, what yelhng and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight—he spake like a dragon ; and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burll from Chriftians heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleafant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword ; then, indeed, he did smile and look upward; but it was the dreadfuUelt sight I ever saw\" And after the pilgrims have palfed the river—" Jult as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun ; the streets alio were paved with gold, and in them walked many men w'lXh crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praifes withal. There were alio of them that had wings, and they anfwered one another without inter-million, saying, ' Hol}% holy, holy is the Lord." And after that they shut the gates, which, when I had seen, I wijhed myfelf among them.^^ How naive this lalt con-fellion—the writer becoming enllaved by his own sorcery. Lord Macaulay has pointed out, in a memorable elfay, the refemblance that exilts between Bunyan and Spenfer— the one nurtured from his childhood on chivalric stor\', a

Vm PREFACE.

liigh IMatonirt, the friend of Sir Philip Sydney ; the other a Bedfordlliire tinker, ahnoft uneducated, addicted in his early days to dancing, bell-ringing, and the swearing of strange oaths, at laft the wandering preacher of a defpifed sect. The men were curioufly unlike in some refpects, but in point of genius they had much in common. Both were of " imagination all compact." To each ever)' object was a mirror in which he saw something elfe. Both delighted in intricate allegories. Spenfer had more fancy, colour, mulic, and picturefquenefs 3 Bunyan more homelinefs, interefi: in common things, shrewdnels, humour, and mother wit. Spenfer is a good deal what Bunyan would have been had he come of a gentle stock in Elizabeth's reign, been educated at the univerlities, been the friend of the moll: chivalric spirit that ever trod Englilh ground. Bunyan is a good deal what Spenfer would have been had he lived a tinker, gone through the tierce spiritual experiences defcribed in "Grace Abounding," settled finally into an itinerant Baptift preacher, and got a jail for twelve years to dream out his dream in. "The Fairy Queen" and "The Pilgrim's Progrels " are the two greateft allegorical works in our language; and Bunyan has over Spenfer ope conliderable advantage, in that, while no reader has been able to read through the poem, no reader before the clofe has been able to lay down the story.

Bunyan's ruling faculty was imagination, and he pof-

lefled it in perilous excels. In his " Grace Abounding "— certainly one of the moil curious and striking of autobiographical sketches—we see how it domineered over him, and made him for a time a dweller on the shores of Tophet. It brought all his paft sins before him—his dancing, his bell-ringing, his Sabbath-breaking, his profane oaths—with more than their warranted terrors, and they difturbed his quiet as the gholl of Banquo difturbed the quiet of Macbeth. And when contrition brought peace and a new mode of life, it created for him the Delectable Mountains peopled with amiable shepherds ; it made blaze for him the Celeftial City, and made audible the melodious voices of its inhabitants. When he secured spiritual peace, his prevailing mood of mind became a certain devout fancifulnefs, and his long confinement— for he wrote the greater proportion of his books in prilbn —made the exercife of this fancifulnefs a more than ordinary relief.

''When the body is up-mew'd. Then the fancy furthest flies."

Bunyan dreamed his dream, and supported his own spirit: he made tagged thread-laces and supported his wife and family,—and so the years wore on. He was a profoundly religious man ; but when his religion had become habitual and terrorlefs, he handed it over to Fancy, that she might play with it. And juft as the ancient pagan heard Pan's pipe in the thicket, saw the hamadryad issue

tVom the tree " like muiic from an inrtrument," caught ill the fountain the momentary gleam of a naiad's limbs and fiice, he saw spiritual meanings in the afpects of external nature and in the ongoings of domeflic life; found something to pierce the confcience in the lark quivering in mid-air above its neft; and difcovered the illuftration of a doctrine in the pot simmering upon the cottage lire. In every material object he saw a spiritual similitude. He was a religious ^ibp, with a fable for everything that might occur. "The Pilgrim's Progreis" is a long similitude, but in its courfe it contains many minor similitudes—as, for in-llance, in the objects shewn to Chriflian at the houfe of the Interpreter. This devout playfulnefs, with a conftant eye for the practical application ; this sermoniling in difguife ; this mafquerading with a serious brow beneath the vizor, which is sure to be shewn at the proper time, is a mood in which Bunyan loved to indulge, and in which he is almoll always succefsful. In the prefent little book of " Divine Emblems" he gives free rein to his fantafy 5 he tinds texts in the mod unlikely places, and from thefe texts he extracts the molt unexpected sermons. He dif-plays art and ingenuity 5 and the meanings he deduces from the objects with which he works are for the molt part pertinent and natural. There is a further charm in the book, in that it is written in verie. Bunyan's mule is clad in rulfet, wears shoes and stockings, has a country accent, and walks along the level Bedfordlhire roads. If

:is a poet he is homely and idiomatic, he is always natural, straightforward, and sincere. His lines are unpolilhed, but they have pith and sinew, like the talk of a shrewd peafant. In the "Emblems" there are many touches of pure poetry, shewing that in his mind there was a vein of silver w^hich, under favourable circumftances, might have been worked to rich ilTues; and everyw^here there is an admirable homely pregnancy and fulnefs of meaning. He has the strong thought, and the knack of the skilled workman to drive, by a single blow, the nail home to the head.

In his Addrefs to the Reader, Bunyan, in a mood somewhat satirical, explains his motive for taking the home-lielt objects and making them the emblems of divine things. He refolved to come as if in play to a volatile generation, that he might catch attention. ^len and women are but children, he says—

" And since at gravity they make a tush. My very beard I cast behind a bush ; And, like a fool, stand fingering of their toys, And all to shew they are but girls and boys."

And in defence of the " inconliderablenefs of things'" by \\ hich he exprelfes his mind, he defends himfelf in this wife—

'■ I could, were I so pleased, use higher strains. And, for applause, on tenters strain my brains ; But what needs that ? the arrow out of sight, Does n t the sleeper nor the watchman fright. To shoot too high doth make but children gaze, 'Tis that which hits the man doth him amaze."

\ll PREFACE.

And he has fulfilled his purpole, for not unfrequently he " hits " the very heart.

All men know "The Holy War" and ''The Pilgrim's Progrefs," but the '' Divine Emblems" have fallen out of human memory. This is a pity ; and to the prefent pub-liihers it has seemed proper to produce a new edition, with all the quaint head and tail pieces of a unique edition long out of print, publillied by W. Johnfton, Ludgate Hill, in 1767. The book is as suitable for boys and girls as it was two hundred years ago—and boys and girls are readers now, which they were not in Bunyan's day. To boys and girls of all ages the " Divine Emblems " may be commended. In truth, this little book is as in some sort a pantomime; but devout fancy is the wand which rules the scenes, and at its stroke into divine truths and weighty morals the commonell objects are transformed.

TO THE READER

OURTEOUS READER,

The title-page will shew, if thou wilt look.

What are the proper subjects of this book : They "re boys and girls, of all sorts and degrees. From thofe of age, to children on the knees. Thus comprehenlive am I in my notions. They tempt me to it by their childilh motions. We now have boys with beards, and girls that be Huge as old women, wanting gravity. Then do not blame me, since I thus defcribe them, Flatter I may not, left thereby I bribe them

To have a better judgment of themlelves, Than wile men have of babies on the shelves. Their antie tricks, fantallic modes, and way, Shew they Hke very boys and girls do play With all the frantic fooleries of the age. And that in open view, as on a stage j Oar bearded men do act like beardlefs boys, Our women pleafe themfelves with childilh toys. Our minifters long time by word and pen Dealt with them, counting them not boys, but men They shot their thunders at them and their toys, But hit them not, 'caufe they were girls and boys. The better charged, the wider still they shot. Or elfe so high, that dwarfs they touched not. Inftead of men, they found them girls and boys, To nought addicted but to childilh toys.

Wherefore, dear reader, that I save them ma}', I now with them the very devil play. vVnd since at gravity they make a tulh, My very beard I call behind a bulh ; And, like a fool, stand lingering of their to}'s. And all to shew they are but girls and boys.

Nor do I blulh, although I think some may Call me a child, becaule I with them play :

TO THE READER.

I aim to shew them how each liiigle-tangle

On which they dote, does but their souls entangle,

As with a weh, a trap, a gin, a snare,

xVnd \\ill deltroy them, have they not a care.

Paul seemed to play the fool, that he might gain, Thole that are fools indeed, if not in grain ; He did it by such things to let them see Their emptineis, their sin and vanity ; A noble act, and full of honefty I Xor he, nor I, would like them be in vice. But by their playthings I would them entice, That they might raife their thoughts from childilh toy To heaven, for that's prepared for girls and boys. Nor would I so confine myfelf to thefe. As to shun graver things ; but seek to pleafe Thofe more compofed with better things than toys, Thouo-h I \\ould thus be catchinsf o-irL and boys.

o o

Wherefore if men inclined are to look. Perhaps their graver fancies may be took With what is here, though but in homely rhymes : But he \\4io pleafes all muft rife betimes. Some, I perfuade me, will be finding fault, Concluding, here I trip, and there I halt: Xo doubt, some could thofe grovelling notions raife By line-fpun terms, that challenge might the bays.

Should all be forced their brahis to lay alide.

That cannot regulate the flowing tide

By this or that man's fancy, we should have

The wife 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 can a fly

Than some a text, wherefore should we deny

Their making proof, or good experiment.

Of smallell things great mischiefs to prevent ?

Wife Solomon did fools to pifmires send To learn true wifdom, and their lives to mend. Yea, God by swallows, cuckoos, and the afs. Shews they are fools who let that seafon pafs, Which He put in their hand, that to obtain Which is both prefent and eternal gain.

I think the wifer sort my rhyme may slight, While I perufe them, fools will take delight. Then what care I ? the foolifli, God has chofe ; And doth by foolilh things their minds compofe. And settle upon that which is divine ; Great things by little ones are made to shine.

I could, were I so pleafed, use higher strains. And, for applaufe, on tenters strain my brains ;

TO THE READER.

But what needs that? the arrow out of sight. Does not the sleeper nor the watchman fright. To shoot too high doth make but children gaze, 'Tis that which hits the man doth him amaze.

As for the inconliderablenefs Of things, by which I do my mind exprefs, ^lay I by them bring some good things to pafs. As Samfon with the jaw-bone of an afs. Or as brave Shamgar with his ox's goad, (Both things luimanly, not for war in mode,) I have my end, though I myfelf expofe. For God will have the glory at the dole.

J.B.

CONTENTS.

X. UPON THE SWALLOW, XI. UPON THE BEE, . XII. UPON A LOw'rING MORNING, XIII. UPOX OVER-MUCH NICENESS, XIV. MEDITATIONS UPON A CANDLE,

XV. UPON THE SACRAMENTS, XVI. UPON THE sun's REFLECTION UPON THE CLOUDS IN A FAIR MORNING, XVII, UPON APPAREL, ..... XVIII. THE SINNER AND THE SPIDER,

XIX. MEDITATIONS UPON THE DAY BEFORE

THE SUN-RISING, .

XX. OF THE MOLE IN THE GROUND,

XXI. OF THE CUCKOO,

XXII, OF THE BOY AND BUTTERFLY,

XXIII. OF THE FLY AT THE CANDLE,

XXIV, ON THE RISING OF THE SUN,

XXV, UPON THE PROMISING FRUITFULNESS OF

A TREE, .....

PAGE 20

24 26

31 ?>?>

43 44 46

48

50 52

CONTENTS.

XXVI. UPON THE THIEF,

XXVIl. OF THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD ON THE BUSH, .....

XXVIII. OF MOSES AND HIS WIFE,

XXIX. OF THE ROSE-BUSH,

XXX. OF THE GOING DOWN OF THE SUN

XXXI. UPON THE FROG,

XXXII. UPON THE WHIPPING OF A TOP, .

XXXIII. UPON THE PISMIRE,

XXXIV. UPON THE BEGGAR, XXXV. UPON THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER,

XXXVI. UPON THE SIGHT OF A POUND OF

CANDLES FALLING TO THE GROUND

XXXVII. UPON A PENNY LOAF, .

XXXVIII. THE BOY AND WATCHMAKER,

XXXIX. UPON A LOOKING-GLASS.

XL. OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST,

XLI. ON THE CACKLING OF A HEN,

XLII. UPON AN HOUR-GLASS,

56

59 63 65 ^7 69 71 72 73 75

78 80 81 83 85 88 89

CONTENTS.

XLIII. UPON A SNAIL, . , . . ,

XLIV. OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST,

XLV. UPON A SKILFUL PLAYER OX AN INSTRUMENT, .....

XLV I. OF MAN BY NATURE,

XLVII. UPON THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD, .

XLVIII. UPON A SHEET OF WHITE PAPER,

XLIX. UPON THE FIRE, ....

90

95

97 98

lOI

103

Sibinc Emblems;

OR,

TEMPORAL THINGS SPIRITUALISED, &:c

UPON THE BARREX FIG-TREE IX GOD'S VIXEVARD.

[HAT barren here I in this so good a soil -1 The sight of this doth make God's heart I secoil

From giving thee his blelling ; barren tree, Bear fruit, or elfe thy end will curfed be I

Art thou not planted b}^ the water-side r Know'ft not thy Lord by fruit is glorified r The sentence is. Cut down the barren tree : Bear fruit, or elfe thy end will curfed be I

DIVINE EMBLEMS

Thou haft been digg'd about and dunged too. Will neither patience, nor yet dreliing do ? The executioner is come, () tree, Bear fruit, or elle thine end will curled be !

He that about thy root takes pains to dig, Would, if on thee were found but one good lig, Preferve thee from the axe : but, barren tree. Bear fruit, or elfe thy end will curfed be!

The utmoft 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 elfe thy end will curfed be !

Thy standing, nor thy name, will help at all ; When fruitful trees are spared, thou mufl: fall. The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree. Bear fruit, or elfe thy end will curfed be !

FOR YOUTH.

II.

UPON THE LARK AND THE FOWLER.

H()L^ :,imple bird, what makes thee here to play r Look, there s the fowler, pr'ythee come away. Dolt not behold the net r Look there 'tis spread. Venture a little further, thou art dead.

Is there not room enough in all the lield, For thee to play in, but thou needs muft yield To the deceitful glitt'ring of a glals. Between nets placed, to bring thy death to paf

DIVINE EMBLEMS

Hird, if th(Hi art so much for dazzling light, Look, there's the sun above thee, dart upright Thv nature is to soar up to the sky, Wli}' wilt thou then come down to the nets and die

Heed not the fowler's tempting flatt'ring call; This whiftle he enchanteth birds withal: What though thou see'ft a live bird in his net. She s there, becaufe from thence she cannot get.

Look h()\^' he tempteth thee w^ith his decoy, That he may rob thee of thy life, thy joy. Come, pr'ythee bird, I pr'ythee come away, Why shouldll thou to this net become a prey ?

Hadlt thou not wings, or were thy feathers puU'd, Or wart thou blind, or fart arteep wert luU'd : The cafe M'ould somewhat aker, but for thee. Thy eyes are ope', and thou hart wings to flee.

Remember that thy song is in thy rise. Not in thy fall: earth 's not thy paradife. Keep up aloft then, let thy circuits be Above, v\'here birds from fowlers' nets are free.

FOR YOUTH.

COMPARISON.

This towler is an emblem of the devil, His nets and whiltle, figures of all evil. His glafs an emblem is of sinful pleafure, Decoying such, \\'ho reckon sin a treafure.

The simple lark s a shadow of a saint, Under allurings, ready now to faint. ^^llat you have read, a needful warning is, Design"d to shew the soul its share of blifs, And ho\^' it may this fowler's net efcape, And not commit upon itfelf this rape.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

III.

UPON THE VINE-TREE

HAT is the vine more than another tree r Nay molt, than it, more tall, mc^re comely be : What workman thence will take a beam or pin,

To make out which may be delighted in ?

Its excellency in its fruit doth lie :

A fruitlels vine, it is not \\'orth a liv.

COMPARISON.

What are profellors more than other men r Nothing at all. Nay, there 's not one in ten.

FOR YOUTH.

Either for wealth, or wit, that may compare In many things, with some that carnal are. Good then they are, when mortified their sin But without that, they are not worth a pin.

TO

DIVINE EMBLEMS

IV.

MEDITATIONS UPON AN EGG

HE egg 's no chick by falling from the hen ; Nor man a Chrillian till he 's born again.

The egg 's at lirlt contained in the shell: iVIen, afore grace, in sins and darknels dwell. The egg, when laid, by warmth is made a chicken, And Chrill: by grace the dead in sin does quicken. The chick at lirll is in the shell confined ; So heav"n-born souls are in the flefli detained. The shell doth crack, the chick doth chirp and peep, The lielh decays, and men then pray and weep.

The shell doth break, the chick "s at liberty. The flelh 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.

But chicks from rotten eggs do not proceed : Xor is a hypocrite a saint indeed. The rotten egg, though underneath the hen, If crackd, stinks, and is loathfome unto^en. Nor doth her warmth make \^'hat is rotten sound ; What "s rotten, rotten will at laft be found. The hypocrite, sin has him in poffellion, He is a rotten egg under profeliion.

Some eggs bring cockatrices ; and some men Some hatch'd and brooded in the viper's den. Some eggs bring wild-fowls ; and some men there be As wild as are the wildell: fowls that flee. Some eggs bring spiders ; and some men appear More venom'd than the worft of spiders are. Some eggs bring pifmires ; and some seem to me As much for trilles as the pifmires be. And thus do divers eggs from diff'rent 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.

divinp: emblems

OF FOWLS FLYING IN THE AIR.

iEfrolS|ETHINKS I see a sight moll excellent, 'h^S y All sorts of birds fly in the firmament: l "<SS jW>vi| Some great, some small, all of a divers kind, jMine e}^e affecting, pleafant to my mind. Look how they wing along the wholelbme air. Above the w^orld of w^orldlings, 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 Sw^im in the element u])on their wings.

FOR YOUTH.

COMPARISON.

Thele birds are emblems of thole men, that shal' Ere long pollels the heavens, their all in all. They each are of a ditFrent shape and kind ; To teach, we of all nations there shall lind. They are some great, some little as we see. To shew some great, some small in gWcy be. Their flying diverfely, as we behold. Do shew saints' joys \^'ill there be manifold. Some glide, some mount, some flutter, and • In a mix'd way of flying, glory too. To shew that each shall to his full content. Be happy in that heav'nly tirmament.

M

DIVINE EMBLEMS

VI.

UPON THE LORD'S PRAYER.

lUR 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 to us be giv'n From day to day. Forgive our debts, as we forgive Thofe that to us indebted are : Into temptation lead us not;

But save us from the wicked snare. The kingdom 's thine, the power too,

We thee adore -, The glory alio shall be thine For evermore.

FOR YOUTH.

VII.

MEDITATIONS UPON THE PEEP O^ DAY

iT peep of day I often cannot know Whether 'tis night, whether 'tis day or no. I fancy that I see a Httle hght. But cannot yet diftinguilli day from night; I hope, I doubt, but certain yet I be not, I am not at a point, the sun I see not. Thus such, who are but jufi: of grace polfelt. They know not yet if they be curlt or Bleft.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

VIII.

UPON THE FLINT IX THE WATER

HIS flint, time out of mind has there abode, Where chryftal streams make their continual road ;

Yet it abides a flint as much as 'twere, Before it touch'd the water or came there.

Its hardnefs is not in the leall abated, 'Tis not at all by water penetrated. Though water hath a soft'ning virtue in 't, It can't diflblve the stone, for 'tis a flint.

FOR YOUTH.

Yea, though in the water it doth still remain, Its iiery nature still it does retain. -i-ft

If you oppole it with its oppofite, Then in your very face its tire 'twill spit.

COMPARISON.

This flint an emblem is of thofe that li^,. Under the word like stones, until thef*ciie. Its cryftal streams have not their natures changed, Thev are not from their lufts bv orrace eltransfed.

DIVINE KMBLK.MS

IX.

LPOX THE FISH IX THE WATER

j^Sp^g HE water is the tilli's element :

n^ Kj Take her from thence, none can her death

And some have said, who have tranlgreliors been, As good not be, as to be kept from sin.

The water is the lilhs 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.

FOR YOUTH.

19

The water is the lilhs element: Her sportings there to her are excellent: So is God's service unto holy men, Thev are not in their element till then.

DIVlNlJ EMBLEMS

X.

UPON THE SWALLOW

IHIS pretty bird, oh ! how she flies and sings ! But could she do so if she had not wings r Her wings belpeak my faith, her songs my peact When I believe and sing, my doubtings ceafe.

FOR YOUTH.

XI.

UPON THE BEE.

■-iE bee goes out, and honey home doth bring ; And some who seek that honey lind a sting I Xow wouldlt thou have the honey, and be tree From stinging; in the lirft place kill the bee.

. COMPARISON.

This bee an emblem truly is of j^in, ^^'hol'e sweet unto a many, death has been. \\'()uldlt thou have sweet from sin, and yet not die. Sin in the lirft place thou muft mortify.

niVIxXE KMP.LEMS

XII. UPON A LOWERING MORNINC).

ELL, with the day I see the clouds appear;

And mix the hght with darknels ev'ry where ;

This threatens thole who on long journeys go. That they shall meet the slabby rain or sno\\. Elle while I gaze, the sun doth with his beams Bdlace the clouds, as 'twere with bloody streams ; Then suddenly thole clouds do wat'ry grow. And weep and pour their tears out where they go.

FOR VOLTH.

COMPARISON.*"

Thus "tis when gofpel Hght doth ulher in To us, both senle of grace and senfe of sin ; Yea, when it makes sin red with Jefus' blood Then we can weep till weeping does u^ good.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XIII.

UPON OVER-MUCH XICENESS.

[S strange to see how over-nice are some About their clothes, their bodies, and home :

^^'hile what's of worth, they shghtly pais it by, Xot doing it at all, or slovenly.

Their houles mull: well furnilh'd be in print ; While their immortal soul has no good in 't. Its outlide alio they muft beautify, While there is in 't scarce common honefty.

theii

FOR YOUTH.

Their bodies they muft have trick d up and trim : Their inlide full of tilth up to the brim. I'pon their clothes there muft not be a spot, Whereas their lives are but one common blot.

How nice, how coy are some about their diet. That can their crying souls with hog's-meat quiet. All mult be drell t' a hair, or elfe 'tis nau^^ . While of the living bread they have no tnoj^nt. Thus for their outlide they are clean and nice, ^^''hile their poor infide stinks with sin and vice.

-0

11 \-INK KMBT.EMS

XI\.

MEDITATIONS UPON A CANDLE

I AN "S like a candle in a candleilick, I Made up of tallow and a little wick ;

1! For what the candle is, before 'tis lighted,

J nil such be they who are in sin benighted. Nor can a man his soul with grace infpire, More than the candles set themfelves on lire.

Candles receive their light from what they are not ; Men grace from Him, for whom at firfl they care not. We manage candles when they take the lire; God men, when He with grace doth them infpire.

FOR YOUTH.

And biggelt candles give the better light. As grace on biggelt sinners shines molt bright. The candle shines fo make another see, A saint unto his neighbour light should be. The blinking candle we do much delpile. Saints dim of lisfht are hisrh in no mans eves.

Again, though it may seem to some a riddle, ^\'e uie to light our candle at the middle : True light doth at a candle's end appear. And grace the heart tirlt reaches by the ear : But "tis the wick the lire doth kindle on, As 'tis the heart that grace lirlt works upon. Thus both to falten upon what's the main, And ^o their life and vigour do maintain.

The tallow makes the \\'ick yield to the lire. And sinful flelh doth make the soul deli re That grace may kindle on it, in it burn : So evil makes the soul from evil turn.

But candles in the wind are apt to flare. And Chriltians in a tempelt to defpair. We see the flame with smoke attended i> ; And in our holv lives there "s much amifs.

Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy : And lults do seek our sfraces to deltrov.

What brackilh is will make a candle sputter; 1 v^>lxt sin and grace there's oft a heavy clutter. Sometimes the light burns^dJin, 'caule of the snutf, And sometimes 'tis blown quite out with a puff: But watchfulnefs preventeth both thefe evils, Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils.

But let not snutfs nor puffs make us to doubt ; Our candles may be lighted, though puffd out. The candle in the night doth all excel, Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well, So is the Chriftian in our hemifphere, Whofe light shews others how their courfe to steer. When candles are put out, all 's in confulion ; Wherd?|<Ghriftians are not, devils make intrulion. They thfttl are happy who such candles have, All others djvell in darknefs and the grave. But candles that do blink within the socket. And saints whofe eyes are always in their pocket. Are much alike ; such candles make us fumble; And at such saints, good men and bad do stumble.

Good candles don't offend, except sore eyes.

Nor hurt, unlefs it be the silly flies -.

Thus none like burning candles in the night,

Nor ought to holy living for delight.

But let us draw towards the candle's end :

The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend ;

FOR YOUTH.

29

As grace man's lite, until his glal's is run. And so the candle and the man is done. '.^.

The man now lays him down upon his bej^.j The wick yields up its iire ; and so is dead* The candle now extinft is, but the man, By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand.

30

DIVINK EMBLEMS

XV.

UPON THE sacramp:nts

Wi) sacraments I do believe there be,

Even baptilm and the supper of the Lord Both myfteries divine, which do to me, By God's appointment, benefit atibrd : But shall they be my God, or shall I have Of them so foul and impious a thought. To think that from the curie they can me save ? Bread, wine, nor water me no ranlbm boui^ht.

FOR YOUTH.

31

XVI.

UPON THE SUN'S REFLECTION UPON THE CLOUDS IN A FAIR MORNINC;.

lOOK yonder, ah ! methinks mine eyes do see Clouds edged with silver, as line garments be ! They look as if they saw the golden face

That makes black clouds molt beautiful with grace.

Unto the saints sweet incenfe of their prayer,

Thefe smoky curl'd clouds I do compare.

For as thefe clouds seem edged, or laced with gold.

Their prayers return with bleffings manifold.

#^^

DIVIN?: EMBLEMS

XVII.

UPON APPAREL

lOD gave us clothes to hide our nakednels, I And we by them do it expole to view; I Our pride and unclean minds, to an excels By our apparel we to others shew.

FOR YOUTH.

XVIII. THE SINNER AND THE SPHJER.

^KTAS

tJ\%f4f.

SIXXER.

^^''S'HAT black, what u^lv crawling thinsj art

I am a spider

thou r

SIXXER.

A spider, ay ; truly a hlthy creature.

SPIDER.

Xot lilthv as thylelf in name or feature c

>

My n;jnie entailed is to my creation ;

IVI}' 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 polfeired me with human realbn, Speak not againll me, left thou speakeft treafon ; For if I am the image of my Maker, ()f slander laid on me He is partaker.

SPIDER.

I know thou art a creature far above me.

Therefore I shiftli, I fear, and alio love thee.

But though thy God hath made thee such a creature

Thou haft againft Him often play'd the traitor.

Thy sin has felrch'd thee down : leave oft'to boaft ;

Nature thou haft defiled, God's image loft.

Yea, thou thyfelf a very beaft haft made.

And art become like grafs, which soon doth fade.

Thy soul, thy realbn, yea, thy spotleis state,

Sin has subjected to th' moft dreadful fate.

But I retain my primitive condition,

I 've all but what I loft by thy ambition.

Thou venom'd thing, I know not what to call thee : J

The dregs of nature surely did befall thee ; j

t

J

FOR VOUTH.

Thou wait compoled o' th" drols and scum of all. Men hate thee, and, in scorn, thee Spidfr call'.

SPIDER.

My venom "s good tor something, since God

made it ; Thy nature sin hath spoil'd, and doth degra(i§ it. Thou art delpoil'd of good : and though I fear thee, I will not, though I might, defpife and jeer thee. Thou say'lt I am the very dregs of nature, Thy sin 's the spawn of devils, 'tis no creature. Thou say'ft man hates me, 'caufe I am a spider. Poor man, thou at thy God art a derifler: ]My venom tendeth to my prefervation : Thy plealing folHes \^'ork out thy damnation. Poor man, I keep the rules of my creation, Thy sin has caft thee headlong from thy station. I hurt nobody \\ilhngly; but thou Art a self-murderer: thou know'ft not how To do what's good ; no, for thou lovelt evil: Thou llyTt God's law, adhereft to the devil.

Thou ill-shaped thing, there 's an antipathy "Twixt man and spiders, 'tis in vain to he ; Stand off, I hate thee—if thou dolt come nigh me, I '11 crulli thee with my foot ; I do defy thee.

*!.> SPIDER.

, They are ill-sliaped who warped are by sin,

Hatred in thee to God hath long time been ; Xo marvel then indeed, if me. His creature, Thffu doft defy, pretending name and feature. But why stand otf ? 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,

,1 was made for thy profit, do not fear me.

.But if thy God thou \\'ilt not hearken to.

What can the, .swallow, ant, and spider do ?

Yet I will speakj I can but be rejected.

Sometimes greiat things by small means are etJected.

Hark, then, though man is noble by creation, He "s lapfed now^ to such degeneration As not to grieve, so carelefs he is grown, Though he himfelf has sadly overthrown. And brought to bondage every earthly thing, Ev'n from the very spider to the king : This we poor senfitives do feel and see; For subject to the curfe you made us be. Tread not upon me, neither from me go ; Tis man who 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 spill, I weave, and all to let thee see

Thy belt performances but cobwebs be. ■^/|'

Thy glory now is brought to such an ebb, ii

It doth not much excel the spiders 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 bottomlefs.

Doth of damnation shew the lastingnefs.

My lying quiet till the fly is catch'd.

Shews secretly hell hath thy ruin hatch"d.

In that I on her seize, when she is taken,

I shew \^'ho gathers, whom God hath foriaken.

The fly lies buzzing in my web, to tell

How linners always roar and howl in hell.

Xo\^' lince I she\\' thee all thefe myfteries. How canlt thou hate me, or me scandalife r

SINNER.

Well, well, I will no more be a derider, I did not look for such things from a spider.

SPIDER.

Come, hold thy peace, what I have yet to say,

H heeded, may help thee another day.

Since I an ugly ven'mous creature be.

There s some refemblance 'twixt vile man and me.

> DIVIXE EMBLEMS

My u ilcl and heedleis runnings are like thole Whole uavs to ruin do their souls expole. Daylight is not my time, I work i' th' night, To shew the\' are like me who hate the light. The maid sweeps one web down, I make another, T(>Tihew how heedleis ones convidlions smother. M}' web is no defence at all to me, Nor will falt'e hopes at judgment be to thee.

SINNER.

() spider, I have heard thee, and do wonder A spider shoulH thus lighten and thus thunder I

SPIDER.

Do but hold still, and I will let thee see, Yet in my ways more mylleries there be. Shall not I do thee good, if I thee tell, I shew to thee a four-fold way to hell ? For since I set my web in sundry places, I shew men go to hell in divers traces.

One I set in the window, that I might

Shew some go down to hell with gofpel-light.

One 1 set in a corner, as you see.

To shew how some in secret snared be.

Grols webs great store I set in darklbme places,

To shew how many sin with brazen faces.

Another web I set aloft on high,

To shew there 's some profelling men mull die.

Thus in m}' uays, God's wifdom 'doth conceal; And by my wa}'s that wifdom 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 lofing 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 muft die.

But if I see she 's like to get away.

Then with my venom I her journey stay.

All ^^-hich my ways the devil imitate.

To catch men, 'caufe he their salvatioji hates.

SIXXER. ^ ,

() spider, thou delight'ft me wdth thy skill, I pr'ythee spit this venom at me still.

I am a spider, yet I can polfefs

The palace of a king, where happinels

So much abounds. Nor when I do go thither.

Do they aik what, or \^hence I come, or whither

I make my hafty travels ; no, not they :

They let me pafs, and I go on my way.

I seize the palace, do with hands take hold '

Of doors, of locks, or bolts j yet I am bold.

When in, to clamber up unto the throne.

And to polTefs it, as if'twere my own.

Nor is there any law forbidding me Here to abide, or in this palace be.

At pleallire I alcend the higheft stories. And there I sit, and so behold the glories Mylelf is compaird with, as if I were One of the chiefeft 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

Shew how thou mayft polfels thyfelf of blifs :

Thou art worfe than a spider, but take hold

On Chrill the door, thou shalt not be controlled :

By Him do thou the heavenly palace enter ;

None e'er will chide thee for 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 ; polfefs thyfelf of paradife.

Go on, I say, although thou be a sinner, l^earn to be bold in faith, of me a spinner.

This is the way true glories to pollels. And to enjoy what no man can exprels.

Sometimes I lind the palace-door up-lock'd, And so my entrance thither has up-block'd. But am I daunted ? No, I here and there Do feel, and search ; and so if anywhere. At any chink or crevice find my way, I crowd, I prefs for palfage, make no stay : And so through difficulty I attain The palace, yea, the throne, where princes reign. I crowd sometimes, as if I 'd burft in sunder ; And art thou crulh'd with striving, do not wonder. Some scarce get in, and yet indeed they enter: Knock, for they nothing have that nothing venture.

Xor will the king himfelf throw dirt on thee, As thou haft caft reproaches upon me. He will not hate thee, O thou foul backslider I As thou didlt me, becaufe I am a spider. Now, to conclude : since I much doctrine bring Slight me no more, call me not ugly thing ; God wifdom hath unto the pifmire given. And spiders may teach men the way to heaven.

SINXER.

Well, my good spider, I my errors see, I was a fool for railing so at thee.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

Thy nature, venom, and thy fearful hue,

But shew what sinners are, and what they d(j.

Thy wa}^ and works do alfo darkly tell

How some men go to heaven, and some to hell.

Thou art my monitor, I am a fool;

l^hey may learn, that to spiders go to school.

FOR YOITH.

43

XIX.

MEDITATIONS UPON THE DAY BEEORE I HI* SUN-RISING. ...

•L'T all this while, where s he whofe golden rays Drives night away, and beautifies our days r Where 's he whole goodly face doth \\arm and heal, And shew us what the darklbme nights conceal r Where s he that thaws'our ice, drives cold away ? Let s have him, or we cafe not for the day.

Thus "tis with thole who are polfeird of grace, There 's nought to them like their Redeemer"s face.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XX.

OF THE MOLE IN THE GROUND.

HE Mole 's a creature very smooth and slick. She dio^s i' th' dirt, but 'twill not on her stick.

1 So's he who counts this world his greatelt

gains. Yet nothing gets but 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 works and ways.

FOR YOUTH.

4S

Poor sill}' Mole, that thou shouldft love to be Where thou, nor sun, nor moon, nor stars canlt see. But oh I how silly 's he, who doth not care So he gets earth, to have of heaven a share !

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XXI.

OF thp: cuckoo.

l^p^jiHOU booby, say'lt thou nothing but Cuckoo «W KJ The Robin and the Wren can thee out-do. 1^^*^^' They to us play through their httle throats, Not one, but sundry pretty tuneful notes. But thou hall fellows, some like thee can do Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.

Thy notes do not lirll welcome in our spring, Nor doll its lirll tokens to us bring. Birds less than thee by far, like prophets, do Tell us 'tis coming, though not by Cuckoo.

Xor dolt thou summer have away with thee, Though thou a ya\^'hiig, bawhng Cuckoo he. When thou dolt ceafe among us to appear, Then doth our harvell bravely crown our }'ear. But thou haft fellows, some like thee can do Little but suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.

Since Cuckoos forward not our eady spring, Xor help with notes to bring our harvelt in : .Vnd since, while here, she only makes a noife, So plealing unto none as girls and boys."> The Formalilt we may compare her to. For he doth suck our eggs, and sing Cuckoo.

HVINE EMBLEMS

XXII.

OF THE BOV AND BUTTERFLY

lEHOLD, hoM^ eager this our little boy

Is for a butterfly, as if all joy, J All prolits, honours, yea, and lafting pleafure?

Were wrapt up in her, or the richeft treafures 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 ;

i

And all his labour and his large outcry Is only for a silly butterfly.

COMPARISON.

This little boy an emblem is of thole

Whole hearts are wholly at the world's difpofe.

The butterfly doth reprefent to me

The world's befl: things at belt but fading be.

All are but painted nothings and falle joys,

Like this poor butterfly to thefe our boys.

His running through nettles, thorns, and briers,

To gratify his boyifli fond delires.

His tumbling over mole-hills to attain

His end, namely, his butterfly to gain;

Doth plainly shew what hazards some men run

To get what will be loft as soon as won.

Men seem in choice, than children far more wife,

Becaufe they run not after butterflies :

When yet, alas ! for what are empty toys.

They follow children, like to beardlefs boys.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XXIII.

OF THE FLY AT THE CANDLE.

HAT ails this fly, thus delperately to enter A combat with the candle ? Will she venture To catch at light ?. Away, thou silly fly ; Thus doing, thou wilt burn thy wings and die.

But 'tis a folly her advice to give. She '11 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 efcape, But gives some little check unto the ape ; Throws up her nimble heels, and 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 gofpel gives in this our ■<}arksome night. The fly a lively picture is of those That hate, and do this gofpel-light oppofe. At lali the gofpel doth become their snare. Doth them with burning hands in pieces tear.

DIVIXK EMKLEMS

XXIV.

ON THE RISING OF THE SUN,

|OOK, look, brave Sol doth peep up from beneatl

i Shews us his golden face, doth on us breathe ) Yea, he doth compafs us around with glories.

Whilfl he alcends up to his higheft stories.

Where he his banner over us difplays.

And gives us light to see our works and ways

Nor are we now as at the peep of light, To queftion, is it day, or is it night ?

FOR YOUTH.

53

The night is gone, the shadow- 's fled away And no\\' we are moll certain that 'tis dav.

And thus it is when Jesus shews His face, And doth assure us of His love and grace.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XXV.

UPON THE PROMISING FRUITFULNESS OF A TREE.

I COMELY sight indeed it is to see I A world of blollbms on an apple-tree : iffll 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 moll of all in beauty 'twould abound. If every one should then be truly sound. But we, alas ! do commonly behold Blooms fall apace, if mornings be but cold ;

They, too, which hang till they young apples are, By blafting winds, and vermin take delpair ; Store that do hang, while almolt ripe we see By blult'ring winds are shaken from tjie tree. So that of many only some there be That grow and thrive to full maturity.

COMPARISON.

This tree a perfect emblem is of thofe Who do the garden of the Lord compofe. Its blafted blooms are motions unto good, Which chill affections do nip in the bud.

Thofe little apples which yet blafted are. Shew some good purpofes no good fruits bear. Thofe spoil'd by vermin are to let us see How good attempts by bad thoughts ruin'd be.

Thofe which the wind blows down while they are green, Shew good works have by trials spoiled been. Thofe that abide, while ripe upon the tree. Shew in a good man some ripe fruit will be.

Behold, then, how abortive some fruits are. Which at the firft moft promifing doth appear. The froft, the wind, the worm, with time doth shew. There How from much appearance works but few.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XXVI.

If PON THE THIEF

HE thief when he doth steal thinks he doth gain: Yet then the greatefl: lols he doth suftain. Come, thief, tell me thy gain, but do not falter. When summ'd, what comes it to more than the haher ■

Perhaps, thou 'It say, The halter I defy ;

So thou mayft say, yet by the halter die.

Thou'It 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 mult go to hell. But should it be as thy falle prophet says, Yet naught but lols doth come by thievilh wa}'s.

All honell men will flee thy company, Thou liv'lt a rogue, and so a rogue will die. Innocent boldnefs thou haft none at all. Thy inward thoughts do thee a villain call.

Sometimes \\'hen thou 1}'It warmly on thy bed Thou art like one unto the gallows led. Fear, as a conftable, breaks in upon thee-— Thou art as if the to\\n were up to stone thee.

If hogs do grunt, or silly rats do ruftle. Thou art in conlternation, think'ft a bultle By men about the door is made to take thee: And all becaufe good conlcience doth forfake thee.

Thy case is so deplorable and bad.

Thou shun'ft to think on't, left thou shouldft be mad :

Thou art befet with mischiefs every way.

The gallows groaneth for thee every day.

Wherefore, I pr'ythee, thief, thy theft forbear, Confult thy safety, pr'ythee, have a care. If once thy head be got within the noofe, Twill be too late a longer life to choofe.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

As To the penitent thou readell of. What's that to them who at repentance scoff. Nor is that grace at thy command or pow'r, That thou shouldft put it off till the laft hour. I pr'ythee, thief, think ont, and turn betime : Few go to life who do the gallows climb.

FOR YOUTH.

59

XXVII. OF THE CHILD WITH THE BIRD OX THE BUSH.

Y little bird, how canlt thou sit

And sing amidft so many thorns ? Let me but hold upon thee get, Mv love with honour thee adorns

Thou art at prefent 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 sunlhine to-day.

To-morrow birds will have a storm ;

My pretty one, come thou away,

My bosom then shall keep thee warm.

Thou subject art to cold o' nights, When darknefs is thy covering ;

By day thy danger 's great by kites.

How canll thou then sit there and sing r

I'hy food is scarce and scanty too,

'Tis worms and tralh which thou doll eat;

Thy prelent state I pity do.

Come, I '11 provide thee better meat.

I "11 feed thee with white bread and milk, And sugar-plums, if thou them crave \

I '11 cover thee w'wh. lineft silk.

That from the cold I may thee save.

My fathers palace shall be thine, Yea, in it thou shalt sit and sing:

My little bird, if thou 'It be mine,

The whole year round should be thy spring

1 "11 teach thee all the notes at court;

Unthought of music thou shalt play : And all that thither do refort

Shall praife thee for it every day.

I "11 keep thee safe from cat and cur,

Xo manner o' harm shall come to thee :

Yea, I will be thy succourer. My bofom shall thy cabin be.

But lo, behold, the bird is gone;

Thefe charmings would not make her yield : The child 's left at the bush alone.

The bird flies yonder o'er the fleld.

COM PARI SOX.

This child of Chrift an emblem is ;

This bird to sinners I compare : The thorns are like thofe sins of his

Which do surround him everywhere.

Her songs, her food, and sunlhine day. Are emblems of thofe foolish toys

Which to deftruction lead the way. The fruit of worldly, empty joys.

The arguments this child doth choofe To draw to him a bird thus wild.

Shews Chrilt familiar speech doth use To make him to be reconciled.

DIVINE EiMBLEMS

The bird, in that she takes her wing To speed her from Him after all,

Shews us vain man loves anything Much better than the heavenly call.

FOR YOUTH.

^Z

XXVIII. OF MOSES AND HIS WIFE.

il^^^iHIS Moles was a fair and comely man :

,^y Bf His wife a swarthy /Ethiopian :

'P^-^"* Xor did his milk-white bosom change her «,kin,

She came out thence as black as she went in.

Now Mofes was a type of Mofes' law,

His wife likewife of one that never saw

Another way unto eternal life;

There 's mylt'ry, then, in Moles and his wife.

The law is very holy, jult, and good. And to it is efpoufed all flelh and blood :

But yet the law its goodnefs can't bellow (>n any that are wedded thereunto.

Therefore as Moles' wife came swarthy in, And went out from him w ithout change of skin St) lie that doth the law for life adore, Shall vet by it be left a black-a-moor.

FOR YOUTH.

XXIX.

OF THE ROSE-BUSH.

jHIS homely bulli doth to mine eyes expole A very fair, yea, comely, ruddy rofe. This role doth always bow^ its head to me, Saying, Come, pluck me, I thy role will be ; Yet offer I to gather rofe or bud. Ten to one but the bulh will have my blood.

This looks like a trepan or a decoy, To offer, and yet snap, who would enjoy ; Yea, the more eager on t, the more in danger. Be he the mafter of it or a strans^er.

Hulh, why doll bear a role if none mult have it r Why doll expole it, yet claw thole that crave it ? Art become freakilh ? Dolt the wanton play, ( )r doth thy tefty humour tend this way ?

COMPARISON.

This role God's Son is, with His ruddy looks :

But what 's the bulh ? whole pricks, like tenter-hook>'

Do scratch and claw the lineft lady's hands.

Or rend her clothes, if she too near it stands.

This bulh an emblem is of Adam's race.

Of which Chrilt came, when He His Fathers grace

Commended to us in His crimlbn 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 expole. But thole of Adam's race which at it catch, Them will the race of Adam claw and scratch.

FOR YOUTH.

67

XXX.

OF THE GOING DO^VN OF THE SUN.

HAT, halt thou run thy race, art going dow n ? AMiy, as one angry, doll thou on us frown ? Why wrap thy head with clouds, and hide th\-tace. As threat'nins: to withdraw from us thy s^race ?

()h, leave us not I when once thou hidft thy head, Our horizon with darknels will be spread. Tell, who hath thee ortended, turn again : Alas ! too late, entreaties are in vain I

COMPARISON.

The golpel here has had a .summer's da}'. But in its sunlhine we, Hke fools, did play : ()r elle fall out, and with each other wrangle, And did, inllead of work, not much but jangle.

And if our sun seems angry, hides his face. Shall it go down, shall night pofTefs this place ? Let not the voice of night-birds us afflict. And of our mif-fpent summer us convit-t.

FOR YOUTH.

69

XXXI.

UPOX THE FROC

HE frog by nature is both damp and cold. Her mouth is large, her belly much will hold She sits somewhat aicending, 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.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

He is of nature cold, his mouth is wide

To prate, and at true goodnels to deride.

And though the world is that which has his love,

He mounts his head, as if he lived above.

And though he seeks in churches for to croak,

He neither seeketh Jefus nor His yoke.

FOR YOUTH.

XXXII.

UPON THE WHIPPING OF A TOP

IS with the whip the boy sets up the top, The whip does make it whirl upon its toe Hither and thither makes it skip and hop : "Tis with the whip the top is made to go.

COMPARISON.

Our legahtt is hke this nimble top. Without a whip he w^ill not duty do.

Let ^Nloies whip him, he will skip and hop; Forbear to whip, he '11 neither stand nor go.

DIVINK EMBLEMS

XXXIII.

UPON THE PLSMIRK

UST we upon the Pismire go to school. To learn of her in summer to provide lECBaSiai For winter next ensuing ; man 's a fool.

Or silly ants would not be made his guide. Ikit, sluggard, is it not a shame for thee

To be outdone by pifmires ? Pr'ythee, hear : Their works, too, will thy condemnation be,

When at the judgment-seat thou shalt appear. But since thy God doth bid thee to her go,

Obey, her ways consider, and be wife: The Pifmires will inform thee what to do.

And set the way to life before thine eyes.

FOR VOLTH.

XXXIV.

UPON THE BEGGAK

E wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty, They withhi doors do him an alms den}-He doth repeat and aggravate his grief; But they repull'e him, give him no relief.

He begs, they say, Begone : he will not hear. He coughs and sighs, to shew he still is there; They disregard him, he repeats his groans; They still say nay, and he himself bemoans. They call him vagrant, and more rugged grow ; He cries the shriller ; trumpets out his woe.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

At lalt, when they perceive he '11 take no nay, An ahiis they give him without more dehiy.

COMPARISON.

The beggar doth resemble them that pra)' To God for mercy, and will take no na}': Hut wait, and count that all his hard gainlay Are nothing elle but fatherly delays : Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry, There s nothing like to importunity.

^'^^

FOR YOUTH.

/D

XXXV.

UPON THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER.

i^^^^HERE 'S one rides very sagely on the road mM mM Shewing that he affects the graveft mode : KW-^yfl(' Another rides tanti\y, or full trot. To shew such gravity he matters not.

Lo I here comes one amain, he rides full speed, Hedge, ditch, or miry bog, he doth not heed. (3ne claws it up-hill, without stop or check, Another down, as if he 'd break his neck. Xow every horse has his elpecial guider: Then by his going you may kno\v the rider.

COMPARISON.

*^* Now let us turn our horle into the man,-

The rider to a spirit, if we can :

Then let us, by the methods of the guider,

Tell every horfe how he should know his rider.

Some go as men direct, in a right way, Nor are they suffer'd e'er to go allray: As with a bridle they are govern'd well. And so are kept from paths that lead to hell.

Now this good man has his efpecial guider: Then by his going, let him know his rider.

Another goes as if he did not care. Whether of heaven or hell he should be heir. The rein, it seems, is laid upon his neck, iVnd he pursues his way without a check.

Now this man, too, has his efpecial guider, And by his going he may know his rider.

iVgain, some run as if refolved to die.

Body and soul to all eternity.

Good counfel they by no means can abide ;

They '11 have their courfe, whatever them betide.

FOR YOUTH.

Now thele poor men have their elpecial guider,

Were they not fools, they soon might kno\\' their rider.

I'here "s one makes head againlt all godlinels, Thole, too, that do profeis it he '11 dillrels : He "11 taunt and flout if goodnels doth appear: And thole that love it he will mock and jeer.

Now this man, too, has his elpecial guider : And by his going he may know his rider.

IJIVINE EMBLEMS

XXXVI.

ri'OX THE SIGHT OF A POUND OF CANDLES FALLING TO THE GROUND.

l^T are the candles down, and scatter'd too, Some lying here, some there ? What shall v\e do ?

Hold, light the candle there that stands on high. The other candles you may find thereby. Light that, I say, and so take up the pound Which you let fall, and scatter'd on the ground.

FOR YOUTH.

79

COMPARISON.

The fallen candles to us intimate The bulk of God's elect in their lapfed state : Their lying scatter'd in the dark may be, To shew by man's lapfed state his mifery.

The candle that was taken down and lighted, Thereby to tind them fallen and benighted. Is Jefus Chrift: God by His Hght doth gather Whom He will save, and be to them a Father.

DIVINE KMHLEMS

XXXVII. UPON A PENNY LOAF.

|HY price one penny is in time of plenty ; In tamine doubled 'tis from one to twenty. Yea, no man knows what price on thee to set, \\'hen there is but one penny loaf to get.

COMPARISON.

The loaf's an emblem of the Word of God, A thing of low efteem ; before the rod Of famine smites the soul with fear of death But then it is our all, our life, our breath.

FOR YOUTH.

8.

XXXVIII.

THE BOY AND WATCHMAKER.

|HIS watch my father did on me bellow A golden one it is, but 't\\ ill not go,

Unlels it be at an uncertainty :

But as orood none as one to tell a lie.

When 'tis high day, my hand will stand at nine I think there 's no man's watch so bad as mine. Sometimes 'tis sullen, 'twill not go at all. And yet 'twas never broke, nor had a fall.

WATCHMAKER

Your watch, though it be good, through want of skill

May.fail to do according to your will.

Suppofe the balance-wheels and spring be good,

And all things elfe, unlefs you underftood

To manage it, as watches ought to be.

Your watch will still be at uncertainty.

Come, tell me, do you keep it from the dull,

And wind it daily, that it may not ruft r

Take heed, too, that you do not strain the spring ;

You mull: be circumspect in everything.

Or elfe your w^atch will not exadly go,

"Twill stand, or run too fall, or move too slow.

COMPARISON.

This boy refembles one that's turn'd from sin His watch the curious work of grace within. The Watchmaker is Jefus Chrill our Lord, His counfel the directions of His Word ; Then, Convert, if thy heart be out of frame. Of this Watchmaker learn to mend the frame. Do not lay ope' thy heart to worldly dull. Nor let thy graces overgrow with rull ; But oft renew'd in th' spirit of thy mind. Or elfe uncertain thou thy watch wilt find.

FOR YOUTH.

^3

XXXIX.

UPON A LOOKING-GLASS.

N this, see thou thy beauty, hall: thou an}' ; Or thy defects, should they be few or many. Thou mayll, too, here thy spots and freckle.^ see. Halt thou but eyes, and what their numbers be. But art thou bhnd ? There is no looking-glafs Can shew thee thy defects, thy spots, or face.

COMPARISON.

Unto this glals we may compare the Word, For that to man aliiftance doth afford.

Has he a mind to know himlelf and state, To see what will be his eternal fate.

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

FOR YOUTH.

85

XL.

OF THE LOVE OF CHRIST.

l^^r'^^HE love of Chrift, poor I! may touch upon Wi Hj But 'tis unsearchable. Oh ! there is none »^*Wj^ Its large dimenfions can comprehend, Should they dilate thereon, world without end.

When we had sinn'd. He in His zeal did swear. That He upon His back our sins would bear. And since to sin there is entailed death. He vow'd that for our sins He 'd lofe His breath.

He did not only say, vow, or refolve. But to aftonilhment did so involve

Himlelf in man's diftrels and milery.

As for and with him both to hve and die.

To His eternal fame in sacred story. We find that He did lay alide His glory, Stepp'd from the throne of higheft dignity. Became poor man, did in a manger lie ; Yea, was beholden upon 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.

Yet this was but the leall of what He did ; But the outlide of what He suffered. God made His bleffed Son under the \2i\y ; Under the curfe, which, like the lion's paw. Did rend 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 conftraint Himfelf thus give

For sin to death, that man might with Him live.

He did do what He did moft willingly.

He sung, and gave God thanks that He mull die.

Did ever king die for a captive slave ?

Yet such were we whom Jefus died to save.

Yea, when He made Himfelf a sacrifice,

It was that He might save His enemies.

FOR YOUTH.

And, though He was provoked to retract

His blert relblves to do so kind an act.

By the abulive carriages of thole

That did both Him, His love, and grace oppole :

Yet He, as unconcern'd about such things,

Goes on, determines to make captive kings:

Yea, many of His murderers He takes

Into His favour, and them princes makes.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XLI.

OX thp: cackling of a hex.

H^-^jlHE Hen so soon as she an egg doth lay,

mi Wsi (Spreads the tame of her doing what she may,)

}P^*Ra| About the yard a cackhng she doth go,

To tell what "twas she at her nelt did do.

JLilt thus it is with some profeffing men,

If they do aught that's good ; they, like our hen,

C'annot but cackle on 't where'er they go,

And what their right hand doth their left mull knoxs.

FOR YOUTH.

89

XLII. UPON AX HOUR-GLASS.

IHIS glals when made, was by the workman's I skill, The sum of sixtv" minutes to fulfil.

Time, more nor lels, by it will out be spun, But juft an hour, and then the glals is run.

Mans life we will compare unto this glals. The number of his months he cannot pals : But when he has accomplished his day. He, like a vapour, vanillieth away.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XLIII. UPON A SNAIL.

HE 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 further go.

She makes no noife, 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.

FOR YOUTH.

And though she doth but very softly go. However slow her pace be, yet 'tis sure ;

And certainly they that do travel so.

The prize which they do aim at they procure.

Although they seem not much to stir or go.

Who thirft for Chrift, and \\ho from wrath do flee :

Yet what they seek for quickly they come too. Though it doth seem the furtheft off to be.

One a6t of faith doth bring them to that flower They so long for, that they may eat and live ;

Which to attain is not in other's power.

Though for it a king's ranfom they would give.

Then let none faint, nor be at all dismay'd, That life by Chrift do seek, they shall not fail

To have it ; let them nothing be afraid : The herb and flower are eaten bv the snail.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

XLIV.

OF THE SPOUSE OF CHRIST.

r^'^jiHO "S this that cometh from the wilderiiels, lVJSI Like smoky piUars thus perfumed with myrrh, Leaning upon her deareft in diftrefs, Phiced in His bofom by the Comforter ?

She \s clothed with the sun, crown'd with twelve stars, The spotted moon her footllool she hath made ;

I'he dragon her ailaults, iills her with jars, Yet relis she under her Beloved's shade.

But whence was she r What is her pedigree r

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

A Hittite sinful, poor, and helpleis quite.

Yea, as for her, the day that she was born. As loathfome, out of doors they did her calt ;

Naked and filthy, stinking and forlorn : This was her pedigree from lirlt to lalt.

Nor was she pitied in this ellate.

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

There w^as no heart that sought to do her good.

Yet she unto thefe ornaments is come.

Her breafts are falliion'd, and her hair is grown ;

She is made heirels of a heavenly home, All her indignities away are blown.

Calt out she \\'as, but now she home is taken. Once she was naked, now you see she 's clad ,

Now made the darling, though before forsaken. Bare foot but now as princes' daughters shod.

Inftead of filth, she now has her perfumes,

Inftead of ignominy, chains of gold : Inftead of what the beauty moft consumes,

Her beauty 's perfect, lovely to behold.

Thole that attend and wait upon her be Princes of honour clothed in white array ;

U^pon her head 's a crown of gold, and she Eats honey, wheat, and oil, from day to day.

For her beloved, He 's the high'll 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 5

His head. His locks. His eyes. His hands, and feet.

Do for completenels outdo all belief,

His cheeks like flowers are. His mouth moft sweet.

As for His wealth. He is made heir of all, What is in heaven, what is in earth is His:

And He this lady His joint heir doth call. Of all that shall be, or at prefent is.

Well, lady, well, God has been good to thee;

Thou of an outcall, 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 hall in grace a share.

Thou in thyfelf doll yet retain a part

Of thine own lilthinefs : wherefore beware.

J

FOR YOUTH.

95

XLV.

UPON A SKILFUL PLAYER OX AX IXSTRUMEXT.

E that can play well on an inftrument,

Will take the ear, and captivate the mind With mirth or sadneis, when it is intent; And mulic into it a way doth find.

But if one hears that hath therein no skill, (As often mufic lights of such a chance,)

Of its brave notes they soon be weary will :

And there are some can neither sins^ nor dance.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

COMPARISON.

To him that thus moll skilfully doth play, God doth compare a gofpel-miniller.

That doth with life and vigour preach and pray. Applying right what he doth there infer.

Whether this man of wrath or grace doth preach.

So skilfully he handles 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 leaft advance :

Such do defpife the gofpel miniltryj

They weep not at it, neither to it dance.

FOR YOl-TH.

97

XLVI.

OF MAN BY NATURE.

ROM God he "s a backilider, Of ways he loves the wider; With wickednels a sider,

More venom than a spider.

In sin he 's a confider, A make-bate and divider ; Bhnd realon is his guider, The devil is his rider.

DIVINE EMBLEMS

, XLVII.

UPON THE DISOBEDIENT CHILD.

HILDREX, when little, how do they delight us !

When they grow bigger, they begin to fright us.

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 forfook. They take the counfels of the wanton rather Than the moll grave inftruftions of a father. They reckon parents ought to do for them. Though they the fifth commandment do contemn.

They snap and snarl, it parents them control.

Although in things moll hurtful to the soul ;

They reckon they are mafters, and that we

\\''ho parents are should to them subject be!

If parents fain would have a hand in choohng,

The children have a heart still in refuling.

They, by wrong doings, from their parents gather.

And say it is no sin to rob a father.

They '11 joftle parents out of place and power,

Thev 11 make themselves the head, and them devour.

How many children by becoming head

Have brought their parents to a piece of bread I

Thus they who at the tirlt were parents' joy,

Turn that to bitternefs, themfelves deftroy.

But, wretched child, how canlt thou thus requite

Thy aged parents, for that great delight

They took in thee, when thou as helplefs lay

In their indulgent bofoms day by day r

Thy mother, long before she brought thee forth.

Took care thou shouldft wajit neither food nor cloth.

Thy father glad was at his vfil^'^ heart.

Had he to thee a portion to impart.

Comfort they promifed themfelves in thee,

But thou, it seems, to them a grief will be.

How oft, how willingly, brake they their sleep.

If thou, their bantling, didft but wince or weep I

Their love to thee was such, they could have given.

That thou mightlt live, all but their part of heaven.

DIVINE EMBLKMS

Hut n()\\', behold, how they rewarded are I

For their indulgent love and tender care,

All is forgot, this love they do delpiie.

They brought this bird up to pick out their eyes.

i

FOR YOUTH.

OI

XLVIII. UPON A SHEET OF WHITE PAPER.

HIS paper's handled by the sons of men, Both with the fairelt and the foulelt pen. 'Twill alio shew what is upon it writ,

Whether 'tis wifely done, or void of wit.

Each blot and blur it alio will expofe

To the next readers, be they friends or foes.

COMPARLSON.

Some souls are like unto this blank or sheet,

(Though not in whiteneis :) The next man they meet.

IMVINE EMBLEMS

Be what he will, a good man or deluder, A knave or fool, the dangerous intruder May wTite thereon, to caule that man to err, In do6trine or in life, with blot and blur. Nor will that soul conceal wherein it swerves. But shew itfelf to each one that obferves. A reading man may know who was the writer And by the hellilh nonfenfe the inditer.

FUR YOUTH.

XLIX. UPON THE FIRE.

?Wlf

^'H(3 falls into the tire shall burn with heat. While thole remote scorn from it to retreat. Yea, while thofe in it cry out, " Oh I I burn, Some further olf thofe cries to lausfhter turn.

COMPARISON.

While some tormented are in hell for sin, ()n earth some greatly do delight therein. Yea, while some make it echo \y\x\\ their cry Others count it a fable and a lie.

Ballantvnc <ir Company, Printers, Kdinhiirc^/i.

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