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THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.

May I not write in such a style as this?
In such a method too, and yet not miss

My 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
Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,
Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the fruit they yield together;
Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit
None can distinguish this from that; they suit
Her well when hungry; but if she be full
She spews out both, and makes their blessing null.

You see the ways the fisherman doth take
To catch the fish; what engines doth he make!
Behold how he engageth all his wits;

Also 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'd for, and be tickled too,
Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do.

How does the fowler seek to catch his game
By divers means! all which one cannot name:
His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell:
He
creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell
Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these
Will make him master of what fowls he please.
Yea, he must pipe and whistle, to catch this;
Yet if he does so, that bird he will miss.
If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell,
And may be found too in an oyster-shell;
If things that promise nothing do contain
What better is than gold; who will disdain,
That have an inkling of it, there to look,
That they may find it? Now my little book,
(Though void of all these paintings that may make
It with this or the other man to take,)

Is not without those things that do excel
What do in brave, but empty notions dwell.

* Hint, whisper, intimation.

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THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.

"Well, yet I am not fully satisfied,

That this your book will stand, when soundly tried."

Why, what's the matter? "It is dark." What though? "But it is feigned." What of that? I trow Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine, Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine. "But they want solidness." Speak, man, thy mind. They drown the weak; metaphors make us blind."

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Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen

Of him that writeth things divine to men :
But must I needs wants solidness, because
By metaphors I speak? Were not God's laws,
His gospel laws, in olden time held forth
By types, shadows, and metaphors? Yet loth
Will any sober man be to find fault
With them, lest he be found for to assault
The highest wisdom! No, he rather stoops,
And seeks 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 speaketh 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 solidness-that I am rude:
All things solid in show not solid be:
All things in parable despise not we,
Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive
And things that good are of our souls bereave.
My dark and cloudy words, they do but hold
The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold.

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The prophets used much by metaphors

To set forth truth: yea, whoso considers
Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see,
That truths to this day in such mantles be.

Am I afraid to say, that holy writ,
Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit,
Is every where so full of all these things,
Dark figures, allegories? Yet there springs

THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.

From that same book, that lustre, 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 worse lines too.

May we but stand before impartial men,
To his poor one I durst adventure ten,
That they will take my meaning in these lines
Far better than his lies in silver shrines.

Come, truth, although in swaddling clothes, I find
Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind;
Pleases the understanding, makes the will
Submit, the memory too it doth fill
With what doth our imagination please;
Likewise 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 use of parables; in which lay hid

That gold, those pearls, and precious stones 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 those that are my betters, as is fit.

1. I find not that I am denied the use Of this my method, so I no abuse

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
Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave,
(Example too, and that from them that have
God better pleased, by their words or ways,
Than any man that breatheth now-a-days,)

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THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.

Thus to express my mind, thus to declare
Things unto thee that excellentest are.

2. I find that men as high as trees will write Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight For writing so: indeed if they abuse

Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use
To that intent; but yet let truth be free
To make her sallies upon thee and me,
Which way it pleases God: for who knows how,
Better than He that taught us first to plough,
To guide our minds and pens for His design?
And He makes base things usher in divine.

3. I find that holy writ in many places
Hath semblance with this method, where the cases
Do call for one thing to set forth another:
Use it I may, then, and yet nothing smother
Truth's golden beams; nay, by this method may
Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.

And now, before I do put up my pen, I'll show the profit of my book; and then Commit both thee and it unto that Hand

That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

This book it chalketh out before thine eyes
The man that seeks the everlasting prize:
It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes;
What he leaves undone; also what he does:
It also shows you how he runs and runs
Till he unto the gate of glory comes.
It shows, too, who set out for life amain,
As if the lasting crown they would obtain:
Here also you may see the reason why
They lose 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 slothful active be;
The blind also delightful things to see.

THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.

Art thou for something rare and profitable?
Wouldest thou see a truth within a fable?
Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember
From New-year's day to the last of December?
Then read my fancies; they will stick like burs,
And may be to the helpless comforters.

As

This book is writ in such a dialect,

may the minds of listless men affect: It seems a novelty, and yet contains

Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains.

Wouldst thou divert thyself from melancholy?
Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly
Wouldst thou read riddles and their explanation?
Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?

Dost thou love picking meat? Or wouldst thou see
A man i' the clouds, and hear him speak to thee?
Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep?
Or wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep?
Wouldst thou lose thyself and catch no harm,
And find thyself again without a charm?
Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know'st not what,
And yet know whether thou art blest or not,
By reading the same lines? O then come hither,
And lay my book, thy head and heart together.

JOHN BUNYAN.

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