The Works of John Bunyan, vol 3 by John Bunyan (summer books .TXT) 📕

Comparison.

Thus ‘tis when gospel light doth usher in To us both sense of grace and sense of sin; Yea, when it makes sin red with Christ’s blood, Then we can weep till weeping does us good.

XIII.

UPON OVER-MUCH NICENESS.

‘Tis much to see how over nice some are

About the body and household affair,

While what’s of worth they slightly pass it by, Not doing, or doing it slovenly.

Their house must be well furnished, be in print,[21]

Meanwhile their soul lies ley,[22] has no good in’t.

Its outside also they must beautify,

When in it there’s scarce common honesty.

Their bodies they must have tricked up and trim, Their inside full of filth up to the brim.

Upon their clothes there must not be a spot, But is their lives more than one common blot.

How nice, how coy are some about their diet, That can their crying souls with hogs’-meat quiet.

All drest must to a hair be, else ‘tis naught, While of the living bread they have no thought.

Thus for their outside they are clean and nice, While their poor inside stinks with sin and vice.

XIV.

MEDITATIONS UPON A CANDLE.

Man’s like a candle in a candlestick,

Made up of tallow and a little wick;

And as the candle when it is not lighted, So is he who is in his sins benighted.

Nor can a man his soul with grace inspire, More than can candles set themselves on fire.

Candles receive their light from what they are not; Men grace from Him for whom at first they care not.

We manage candles when they take the fire; God men, when he with grace doth them inspire.

And biggest candles give the better light, As grace on biggest sinners shines most bright.

The candle shines to make another see,

A saint unto his neighbour light should be.

The blinking candle we do much despise,

Saints dim of light are high in no man’s eyes.

Again, though it may seem to some a riddle, We use to light our candles at the middle.[23]

True light doth at the candle’s end appear, And grace the heart first reaches by the ear.

But ‘tis the wick the fire doth kindle on, As ‘tis the heart that grace first works upon.

Thus both do fasten upon what’s the main, And so their life and vigour do maintain.

The tallow makes the wick yield to the fire, And sinful flesh doth make the soul desire That grace may kindle on it, in it burn; So evil makes the soul from evil turn.[24]

But candles in the wind are apt to flare, And Christians, in a tempest, to despair.

The flame also with smoke attended is,

And in our holy lives there’s much amiss.

Sometimes a thief will candle-light annoy, And lusts do seek our graces to destroy.

What brackish is will make a candle sputter; ‘Twixt sin and grace there’s oft’ a heavy clutter.

Sometimes the light burns dim, ‘cause of the snuff, Sometimes it is blown quite out with a puff; But watchfulness preventeth both these evils, Keeps candles light, and grace in spite of devils.

Nor let not snuffs nor puffs make us to doubt, Our candles may be lighted, though puffed out.

The candle in the night doth all excel,

Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars, then shine so well.

So is the Christian in our hemisphere,

Whose light shows others how their course to steer.

When candles are put out, all’s in confusion; Where Christians are not, devils make intrusion.

Then happy are they who such candles have, All others dwell in darkness and the grave.

But candles that do blink within the socket, And saints, whose eyes are always in their pocket, Are much alike; such candles make us fumble, And at such saints good men and bad do stumble.[25]

Good candles don’t offend, except sore eyes, Nor hurt, unless it be the silly flies.

Thus none like burning candles in the night, Nor ought26 to holy living for delight.

But let us draw towards the candle’s end: The fire, you see, doth wick and tallow spend, As grace man’s life until his glass is run, And so the candle and the man is done.

The man now lays him down upon his bed,

The wick yields up its fire, and so is dead.

The candle now extinct is, but the man

By grace mounts up to glory, there to stand.

XV.

UPON THE SACRAMENTS.

Two sacraments I do believe there be,

Baptism and the Supper of the Lord;

Both mysteries divine, which do to me,

By God’s appointment, benefit afford.

But shall they be my God, or shall I have Of them so foul and impious a thought,

To think that from the curse they can me save?

Bread, wine, nor water, me no ransom bought.[27]

XVI.

UPON THE SUN’S REFLECTION UPON THE CLOUDS

IN A FAIR MORNING.

Look yonder, ah! methinks mine eyes do see Clouds edged with silver, as fine garments be; They look as if they saw that golden face That makes black clouds most beautiful with grace.

Unto the saints’ sweet incense, or their prayer, These smoky curdled clouds I do compare.

For as these clouds seem edged, or laced with gold, Their prayers return with blessings manifold.

XVII.

UPON APPAREL.

God gave us clothes to hide our nakedness, And we by them do it expose to view.

Our pride and unclean minds to an excess, By our apparel, we to others show.[28]

XVIII.

THE SINNER AND THE SPIDER.

Sinner.

What black, what ugly crawling thing art thou?

Spider.

I am a spider-------------

Sinner.

A spider, ay, also a filthy creature.

Spider.

Not filthy as thyself in name or feature.

My name entailed is to my creation,

My 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 possessed me29 with human reason, Speak not against me lest thou speakest treason.

For if I am the image of my Maker,

Of slanders laid on me He is partaker.

Spider.

I know thou art a creature far above me, Therefore I shun, I fear, and also love thee.

But though thy God hath made thee such a creature, Thou hast against him often played the traitor.

Thy sin has fetched thee down: leave off to boast; Nature thou hast defiled, God’s image lost.

Yea, thou thyself a very beast hast made, And art become like grass, which soon doth fade.

Thy soul, thy reason, yea, thy spotless state, Sin has subjected to th’ most dreadful fate.

But I retain my primitive condition,

I’ve all but what I lost by thy ambition.

Sinner.

Thou venomed thing, I know not what to call thee, The dregs of nature surely did befall thee, Thou wast made of the dross and scum of all, Man hates thee; doth, in scorn, thee spider call.

Spider.

My venom’s good for something, ‘cause God made it, Thy sin hath spoiled thy nature, doth degrade it.

Of human virtues, therefore, though I fear thee, I will not, though I might, despise and jeer thee.

Thou say’st I am the very dregs of nature, Thy sin’s the spawn of devils, ‘tis no creature.

Thou say’st man hates me ‘cause I am a spider, Poor man, thou at thy God art a derider; My venom tendeth to my preservation,

Thy pleasing follies work out thy damnation.

Poor man, I keep the rules of my creation, Thy sin has cast thee headlong from thy station.

I hurt nobody willingly, but thou

Art a self-murderer; thou know’st not how To do what good is; no, thou lovest evil; Thou fliest God’s law, adherest to the devil.[30]

Sinner.

Ill-shaped creature, there’s antipathy

‘Twixt man and spiders, ‘tis in vain to lie; I hate thee, stand off, if thou dost come nigh me, I’ll crush thee with my foot; I do defy thee.

Spider.

They are ill-shaped, who warped are by sin, Antipathy in thee hath long time been

To God; no marvel, then, if me, his creature, Thou dost defy, pretending name and feature.

But why stand off? 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, I was made for thy profit, do not fear me.

But if thy God thou wilt not hearken to, What can the swallow, ant, or spider do?

Yet I will speak, I can but be rejected, Sometimes great things by small means are effected.

Hark, then, though man is noble by creation, He’s lapsed now to such degeneration,

Is so besotted and so careless grown,

As not to grieve though he has overthrown Himself, and brought to bondage everything Created, from the spider to the king.

This we poor sensitives do feel and see; For subject to the curse you made us be.

Tread not upon me, neither from me go;

‘Tis man which 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 spin, I weave, and all to let thee see, Thy best performances but cobwebs be.

Thy glory now is brought to such an ebb, It doth not much excel the spider’s 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 bottomless, Doth of damnation show the lastingness.

My lying quiet until the fly is catch’d, Shows secretly hell hath thy ruin hatch’d.

In that I on her seize, when she is taken, I show who gathers whom God hath forsaken.

The fly lies buzzing in my web to tell

Thee how the sinners roar and howl in hell.

Now, since I show thee all these mysteries, How canst thou hate me, or me scandalize?

Sinner.

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

Spider.

Come, hold thy peace; what I have yet to say, If heeded, help thee may another day.

Since I an ugly ven’mous creature be,

There is some semblance ‘twixt vile man and me.

My wild and heedless runnings are like those Whose ways to ruin do their souls expose.

Daylight is not my time, I work in th’ night, To show they are like me who hate the light.

The maid sweeps one web down, I make another, To show how heedless ones convictions smother; My web is no defence at all to me,

Nor will false hopes at judgment be to thee.

Sinner.

O spider, I have heard thee, and do wonder A spider should thus lighten and thus thunder.

Spider.

Do but hold still, and I will let thee see Yet in my ways more mysteries there be.

Shall not I do thee good, if I thee tell, I show to thee a four-fold way to hell;

For, since I set my web in sundry places, I show men go to hell in divers traces.

One I set in the window, that I might

Show some go down to hell with gospel light.

One I set in a corner, as you see,

To show how some in secret snared be.

Gross webs great store I set in darksome places, To show how many sin with brazen faces;

Another web I set aloft on high,

To show there’s some professing men must die.

Thus in my ways God wisdom doth conceal, And by my ways that wisdom doth reveal.

I hide myself when I