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Angels are sent from the heavenly courts, not to destroy, but to watch over and guard imperiled souls, to save the lost, to bring the straying ones back to the fold. {RH May 10, 1906}
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Holy War - John Bunyan (17th Cen)
AN ADVERTISEMENT TO THE READER
SOME say the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ is not mine, Insinuating as if I would shine In name and fame by the worth of another, Like some made rich by robbing of their brother. Or that so fond I am of being sire, I’ll father bastards; or, if need require, I’ll tell a lie in print to get applause. I scorn it: John such dirt-heap never was, Since God converted him. Let this suffice To show why I my ‘Pilgrim’ patronise. It came from mine own heart, so to my head, And thence into my fingers trickled; Then to my pen, from whence immediately On paper I did dribble it daintily. Manner and matter, too, was all mine own, Nor was it unto any mortal known Till I had done it, nor did any then By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, Add five words to it, or wrote half a line Thereof: the whole, and every whit, is mine. Also for THIS, thine eye is now upon, The matter in this manner came from none But the same heart, and head, fingers, and pen, As did the other. Witness all good men; For none in all the world, without a lie, Can say that this is mine, excepting I. I write not this of my ostentation, Nor ‘cause I seek of men their commendation; I do it to keep them from such surmise, As tempt them will my name to scandalise. Witness my name, if anagram’d to thee, The letters make—‘Nu hony in a B.’
John Bunyan
