THE Pilgrim's Progrefs FROM This WORLD то That which is to Come: Delivered under the Similitude of a DREAM: Wherein is Difcover'd AND Safe ARRIVAL at the Defired Country. The Nine and Twentieth Edition, with I have used Similitudes, Hofea xii. 10. LONDON Printed by A. W. for W. Johnston, at Church-Yard. 1758. W THEN at the first I took my Pen in Hand In fuch a Mode: Nay, I had undertook And thus it was: I writing of the Way About their Journey, and the Ways to Glory, Like Sparks that from the Coals of Fire do fly, 7 Neither did I but vacant Seasons spend In this my But to divert myfelf in doing this, From worfer Thoughts which make me do amifs. hus I fet Pen to Paper with Delight, and quickly had my Thoughts in Black and Whit or having now my Method by the End, l as I pull'd, it came; and fo I penn'd t down, until it came at laft to be For Length and Breadth the Bignefs which you fee. Well, when I had thus put my Ends together, fhew'd them others, that I might fee whether They would condemn them, or them juft fie; And fome faid, Let them live; fome Let them die Some faid, John, Print it; Others faid, Not fo, Some faid, It might do good; Others fid, No. i Now I was in a Straight, and did not seẹ Which was the best Thing to be done by me: At laft I thought, fince ye are thus divided, Print it will, and fo the Cafe decided. For thought I, fome I fee would have it done, Though others in that Channel do not run ; Го prove then who advised for the beft, Thus I thought fit to put it to the Teft. I farther thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it, thus to gratify; did not know but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great Delight; or those which were not for its coming forth, faid to them, Offend ye I am loth: et fince your Brethren pleased with it be, orbear to judge, till you do further fee. If that you will not read it, let it alone, me love the Meat, fome love to pick a Bone: ea, that I might them better moderate, did too with them thus expoftulate : May I not write in fuch a Stile as this? - fuch a Method too, and yet not mifs y End, thy Good? Why may it not be done? ark Clouds bring Water, when the Bright bring none; ea, dark or bright, if they their Silver Drops ufe to descend, the Earth, by yielding Crops, Give Praise to both, and parteth not at either, All his Snares, Lines, Angles, Hooks, and Nets: How does the Fowler feek to catch his Game By divers Means, all which we cannot name! They must be grop'd for, and be tickl❜d too, Or they will not be catch'd whate'er you do. His Gun, his Nets, his Lime-twigs, Light, and Bell He creeps, he goes, he flands, yea, who can tell Of all his Poftures? Yet there's none of thefe Will make him Mafter of what Fowls he pleafe. Yea, he muft pipe and whistle to catch this; Yet if he does fo, that Bird he will mifs. If that a Pearl may in a Toad's Head dwell, And may be found too in an Oyfter-shell; It 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, (Tho' void of all thefe Paintings that may make It with this, or the other Man to take) Is not without thole Things that do excel What do in brave, but empty Notions dwell. Well, yet I am not fully fatisfy'd That this your Book will stand, when foundly try'd Why |