moment; and they never saw him arise again; which did greatly dishearten the rest of the pilgrims, and they knew not what to do, or which way to turn themselves. Whilst they were thus disconsolate and melancholy, there came flying to them a man in bright clothing, who said, "Peace be unto you; let not your hearts be troubled," because of the man who just now entered the river, and presently sunk out of your sight. His name is Weary-o'-the-world, and his circumstances answer his name; for he has a long time lain under great discontent, because the affairs of this life went not smoothly on his side. He has met with a great many crosses and losses, vexations, and troubles in the world. He has been crossed in body, soul, and estate, in wife, and children, and friends; now all these together made him weary of the world, and resolved to go out of it. But he suffered none of those things for righteousness' sake, or for the name of Christ, but for his own ambition, covetousness, and envy, which made him odious to all people that knew him: nay, he thereby put himself out of the protection of providence, so that nothing thrived which he took in hand. His corn was blasted in the field; his barns were burnt down to the ground, when they were filled with the fruits of a plentiful harvest; his body was afflicted with many diseases, which were occasioned by his lusts: his wife and children cursed him to his face, because of his tyranny and cruelty; his friends and neighbours mocked and derided at his calamities; and all things went against him. So in a pet he took up a resolution to leave the world; but he did it not for the love of God, which was the reason why you saw him sink in the waters of this river, and rise no more. It is not enough to be weary of the world; but to be weary of sin is that which is acceptable in the sight of God, and of great price. Besides, he ought not presumptuously to have rushed into the river himself without orders, but should have waited till the King's pleasure was manifested to him, as you see many sitting along the river side, and waiting for the King's command. And now I am sent with a message to Tender-conscience, to tell him it is the King's pleasure he should come over next. So Tender

conscience prepared himself to obey the King's summons; but his heart panted, and all his limbs trembled, to think of what was become of Weary-o'-the-world, and for fear he should sink likewise. Whom, when Spiritual-man saw in this agony, he comforted him, bidding him be of good cheer, saying, 'You are not the first, neither will you be the last that must pass. through this river; all that have been before you since Adam have been forced to go through this river, except Enoch and Elijah, and so must all that come after you. Death is a debt we all owe to God and nature, and it must be paid one time or other, earlier or later. There is an appointed time for all men once to die, and after death to come to judg ment; therefore be not afraid of that which cannot be avoided.

Tender-con. I am not so much afraid of death, as of what will come after; I fear I shall never see the city of God, the heavenly Jerusalem, whose glittering walls and turrets ravished my eyes when we passed through the lands of Beulah; I fear I am going down into a land of darkness, where my feet will stumble on the dark mountains, a land without light or order, where there dwells nothing but sempiternal horror and confusion. This is that which makes my heart-strings ready to break, and my knees to smite one against another. Oh, that some one would hide me till the fury of his anger be overpast! Oh that he would protect me in the secrets of his tabernacle, and shelter me under the shadow of his wings! For, 66 yet a little while, and the eye that seeth me shall see me no more." And with that word he entered the river, and finding the waters shallow at first, he was comforted; but as he waded along, they rose up even to his mouth and nostrils, so that he could hardly fetch his breath; then he cried aloud, saying, "Save me O God, for the waters are come into my soul: I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing; I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me. Make haste to deliver me, O God: make haste to help me, O Lord. My flesh and my heart faileth, but God is the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever." Thus cried he, and still waded on till he came to the middle of the river, where he could find no bottom; sa

that his head was covered with water, and he had sunk away, had not the shining one that invited him come flying to his assistance, and catching him by the hair of the head, held his head above water, till he came over towards the opposite bank, where it grew shallower, and he began to walk with ease, till he got clear of the river; and when he stood upon the bank on the other side he leaped for joy, finding himself so marvellously light and active, that he thought he could fly; for the garments which he wore all the way were very heavy, and fell off from him in the river, so that now he was light as a bird.

Now I saw in my dream, that the shining one had no sooner set him on the shallow side of the river, but he went to the other side, and bid Spiritual-man, Zealous→ mind, Seek-truth, and Convert, follow him into the river; which they did, whilst the shining one flew over their heads to the other side, where Tender-conscience stood encompassed by five or six men in bright clothing. So the four men waded through the river with different circumstances; for Spiritual-man having been in deep waters before, though not altogether so deep as these, had got some skill in swimming and keeping his head above water; but poor Convert and Seek-truth were at a great loss when they came towards the middle of the river, where the waters were at the deepest; so that they cried out for help unto him that is able to save; and their prayer was heard, and a hand was reached forth, which buoyed them up till they came to shallow ground. So they walked through the rest of the river with ease, and came to their brethren on the other side. But as for Zealous-mind, he thought to get over safer than any of them, and therefore, privately, he had gathered a bundle of reeds, which grew by the river side, and he rested himself on them; but when he came to the middle of the river, the violence of the current carried away his reeds, and he sunk to the bottom, and never was seen more.

So in my dream I asked one that stood by me, what was the reason, that he who had appeared so forward all along in his journey should now sink at last? And he answered me, it is not enough to be zealous and forward, but to be humble and charitable, also is requisite. This man was of a fiery temper, and had a zeal indeed; but

it was a disorderly zeal, not tempered with charity and prudence likewise he trusted in his own strength, as you saw by his leaning on the bundle of reeds; now this was his pride, for had he called on God for help, peradventure he might have been saved.

So I saw in my dream, that the four men, even Tender-conscience, Spiritual-man, Seek-truth, and Convert, welcomed each other to that side of the river, and the shining ones welcomed them likewise; and there came a bright cloud, and covered them all, and they were carried up in the cloud, through untracked paths of air; and as they went up, the men in bright clothing told them, that they had watched over them all the way of their pilgrimage, and had observed all their actions, which were written down in a book; and that they had saved them from many dangers, though unseen by them.

Thus the cloud was carried up through the boundless orb above; and, as they went through the skies, they saw the glorious stars shining like suns in the firmament. At length, when they came near to the heaven of heavens, a troop of holy ones came out of the city to meet them. Now, the foundation of the city was laid on the top of the eternal hills; and all round about it were fields of endless light, wherein the saints and angels walked. Then they came to the place" where the Ancient of days was sitting, whose garments were white as snow, and the hair of his head like the pure wool, his throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire. A fiery stream issued, and came out from before him, thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him." Then they came to the gate of the city, and the pilgrims were bid to call there, which they did accordingly; and one looked over the gate, to whom the men in bright clothing said, "These men are come from the valley of Destruction: these men have gone through great tribulation, for the love they bare to the King; and they spoke to the pilgrims to give in their certificates, which they did: and the certificates were presented to the King, who gave orders that the gate should be opened to the pilgrims; so they entered in; and just at the entrance, one met them, and said unto them, "Come in, ye blessed of my father, inherit

the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world enter ye into the joy of your Lord !"—Then a multitude of the heavenly host, with harps in their hands, met them, and sang a new song which no man understood but themselves, and such as are thought worthy to be admitted into that blessed place. So I awoke, and behold, it was a dream!

CONCLUSION.

(Sent to the Author by a Friend)

Tho' many things are writ to please the age,
Among the rest for this I dare engage,
Where virtue dwells, it will acceptance find,
And, to your pilgrim, most that read, be kind.
But all to please would be a task as hard,
As for the winds from blowing to be barr❜d.
The pious Christian, in a mirror here,
May see the promis'd land, and, without fear
Of threaten'd danger, bravely travel on,
Until his journey he has safely gone,
And does arrive upon the happy shore,
Where joys increase, and sorrow is no more.
This is a dream, not fabled as of old;
In this express the sacred truths are told,
That do to our eternal peace belong,
And, after mourning, changes to a song
Of glorious triumphs, that are without end,
If we but bravely for the prize contend.
No pilgrimage like this can make us blest,
Since it brings us to everlasting rest:
So well in every part the sense is laid,
That it to charm the reader may be said,
With curious fancy, and create delight,
Which to an imitation must invite.

And happy are they, that, through stormy seas
And dangers, seek adventures like to these!
Who sell the world for this great pearl of price,
Which, once procur'd, will purchase Paradise!
He who in such a bark doth spread his sails,
Needs never fear at last these prosp'rous gales
That will conduct him to a land, where he
Shall feel no storms, but in a calm shall be:
Where, crown'd with glory, he shall sit and sing
Eternal praise to his redeeming King,
Who, conqu'ring death, despoil'd him of his sting.
So wishes your faithful friend,

J. POOLE, Printer, Fore-street, TAUNTON.

B.D.