The pilgrims guide from the cradle to his death-bed with his glorious passage from thence to the New-Jerusalem, represented to the life in a delightful new allegory, wherein the Christian traveller is more fully and plainly directed than yet he hath been by any, in the right and nearest way to the celestial paradice : to which is added The sick-mans passing-bell : with no less than fifty several pleasant treatises ... : to these are annext, The sighs and groans of a dying man / by John Dunton ... ; illustrated with eight curious copper plates.

TREATISE V. Morning Fancies.

DArkness no sooner gives way to the Approach of the Sun, but the whole Theatre of Nature seems to smile; the Clouds put on their several-co∣lour'd Habits, the musical Inhabitants of the Groves ••warble forth the Air in varied and delightful tones of Harmony; the Flowers draw forth their Several Flames and Beauties, offering sweet Incense from their fragrant Bosomes; all Mists and Foggs break up and vanish; and that which before dissembled so bright a lustre, hath lost it in the light of the Sun. And now my Senses loosned from the soft Chains of sleep, enjoy the Prospect of the Glory of the Heavens, the pleasant view of the Woods, Fields, Rivers: But as there be Groves and Caves where the Sun hath not access; so my Body is that Cave, where without the Beam of Reason, to discern the Cau∣ses and Effects of those Works I externally behold, it is still in Darkness; nay, I shall still continue so, if with the reflext Beam of Reason I look not into my self, and see what habits and Affections my Soul wears, and what belongs to me in respect of Duties and several Relations without: Nay, I am still in darkness, if I behold not with the eye of Faith the Sun of Righteousness, arising (as it were) out of the

immense Ocean of his Goodness and Mercy, dart∣ing into my Soul the glorious Rayes of his Truth and Goodness; then doth my little World rejoyce, and my Flesh rejoyces in the living Lord; then are all my Affections, the Birds in my little Grove, tuned with his Praise; then doth each thought wear a several Livery of its Makers Praise, put on from the Contemplation of his several Works; then are all the false Splendours of Vanity obscured, the Mists and Foggs of Passion break up and vanish; then do the Flowers of Vertue salute him with that lustre and odour he himself bestowed on them; some yielding their Sweets at a distance, as the ten∣der Vertues of Mercy, Compassion, Liberality; o∣thers impart not their fragrancy till bruised and crushed, as the Vertues of Patience and Constancy: And now Lord, my imprison'd Soul beholds thy Beams through the Chinks (as it were) of thy Crea∣tures; but a full Vision of thy Presence is reserved for the State of Glory.

Let my mind so feed on thy Works, that they be digested into thy Praise; and let me look out so constantly through these Cranies, at the Rayes of thy Goodness, Wisdom and Power, that at last my Spark may be swallowed up in the Immensity of thy Light.