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Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, [1678], at sacred-texts.com


 
 
 Section I.
 
 
 The Author's Way Of Sending Forth His Second Part Of The Pilgrim
 
 
 Go now my little Book, to every place
 Where my first Pilgrim has but shewn his Face:
 Call at their door; If any say, Who's there?
 Then answer thou, Christiana is here.
 If they bid thee Come in, then enter thou,
 With all thy Boys; and then, as thou know'st how,
 Tell who they are, also from whence they came;
 Perhaps they'll know them by their looks, or name.
 But if they should not, ask them yet again
 If formerly they did not entertain
 One Christian a Pilgrim? If they say
 They did, and was delighted in his Way;
 Then let them know that those related were
 Unto him, yea, his Wife and Children are.
 
 
 Tell them that they have left their House and Home,
 Are turned Pilgrims, seek a World to come;
 That they have met with Hardships in the way:
 That they do meet with Troubles night and day;
 That they have trod on Serpents, fought with Devils,
 Have also overcame a many evils.
 Yea, tell them also of the next, who have
 Of love to Pilgrimage been stout and brave
 Defenders of that Way, and how they still
 Refuse this World, to do their Father's will.
 
 
 Go tell them also of those dainty things,
 That Pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings.
 Let them acquainted be too, how they are
 Beloved of their King, under his care;
 What goodly Mansions for them he provides,
 Tho' they meet with rough Winds and swelling Tides,
 How brave a Calm they will enjoy at last,
 Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast.
 Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace
 Thee, as they did my Firstling, and will grace
 Thee, and thy fellows, with such cheer and fare,
 As shew will they of Pilgrims lovers are.
 
 
 I Objection
 
 
 But how if they will not believe of me
 That I am truly thine, 'cause some there be
 That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name,
 Seek by disguise to seem the very same,
 And by that means have wrought themselves into
 The hands and houses of I know not who?
 
 
 Answer
 
 
 'Tis true, some have of late, to counterfeit
 My Pilgrim, to their own my Title set;
 Yea others half my Name and Title too
 Have stitched to their Book, to make them do;
 But yet they by their Features do declare
 Themselves not mine to be, whose ere they are.
 
 
 If such thou meetst with, then thine only way
 Before them all is to say out thy say,
 In thine own native language, which no man
 Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can.
 If after all they still of you shall doubt,
 Thinking that you like Gipsies go about
 In naughty wise the Country to defile,
 Or that you seek good people to beguile
 With things unwarrantable; send for me,
 And I will testifie you Pilgrims be;
 Yea, I will testifie that only you
 My Pilgrims are; and that alone will do.
 
 
 2 Objection
 
 
 But yet perhaps I may inquire for him,
 Of those that wish him damned life and limb.
 What shall I do, when I at such a door
 For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more?
 
 
 Answer
 
 
 Fright not thyself my Book, for such Bugbears
 Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears:
 My Pilgrim's Book has travell'd sea and land,
 Yet could I never come to understand
 That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door
 By any Kingdom, were they rich or poor.
 
 
 In France and Flanders, where men kill each other,
 My Pilgrim is esteem'd a Friend, a Brother.
 
 
 In Holland too 'tis said, as I am told,
 My Pilgrim is with some worth more than Gold.
 
 
 Highlanders and Wild Irish can agree
 My Pilgrim should familiar with them be.
 
 
 'Tis in New England under such advance,
 Receives there so much loving contenance,
 As to be trimm'd, new cloth'd, and deck't with Gems,
 That it may shew its features and its limbs,
 Yet more, so comely doth my pilgrim walk,
 That of him thousands daily sing and talk.
 
 
 If you draw nearer home, it will appear
 My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear;
 City and Country will him entertain
 With Welcome Pilgrim; yea, they can't refrain
 From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by,
 Or shews his head in any Company.
 
 
 Brave Galants do my Pilgrim hug and love,
 Esteem it much, yea, value it above
 Things of a greater bulk: yea, with delight,
 Say my Lark's leg is better than a Kite.
 
 
 Young Ladies, and young Gentle-women too,
 Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim shew;
 Their Cabinets, their Bosoms, and their Hearts
 My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts
 His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains,
 As yield them profit double to their pains
 Of reading. Yea, I think I may be bold
 To say some prize him far above their Gold.
 
 
 The very Children that do walk the street,
 If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet,
 Salute him will, will wish him well, and say,
 He is the only Stripling of the Day.
 
 
 They that have never seen him, yet admire
 What they have heard of him, and much desire
 To have his company, and hear him tell
 Those Pilgrim stories which he knows so well.
 
 
 Yea, some who did not love him at the first,
 But call'd him Fool and Noddy, say they must
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend;
 And to those whom they love they do him send.
 
 
 Wherefore my Second Part, thou need'st not be
 Afraid to shew thy Head; none can hurt thee,
 That wish but well to him that went before,
 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store
 Of things as good, as rich, as profitable,
 For Young, for Old, for Stagg'ring, and for Stable.
 
 
 3 Objection
 
 
 But some there be that say he laughs too loud;
 And some do say his Head is in a Cloud.
 Some say his Words and Stories are so dark,
 They know not how by them to find his mark.
 
 
 Answer
 
 
 One may (I think) say, Both his laughs and cries
 May well be guess'd at by his watery eyes.
 Some things are of that nature as to make
 One's Fancie chuckle, while his Heart doth ake,
 When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep,
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep.
 
 
 Whereas some say, A Cloud is in his Head,
 That doth but shew how Wisdom's covered
 With its own mantles, and to stir the mind
 To a search after what it fain would find:
 Things that seem to be hid in words obscure,
 Do but the Godly mind the more allure;
 To study what those sayings should contain
 That speak to us in such a Cloudy strain.
 
 
 I also know a dark Similitude
 Will on the Fancie more itself intrude,
 And will stick faster in the Heart and Head,
 Than things from Similies not borrowed.
 
 
 Wherefore my Book, let no discouragement
 Hinder thy travels. Behold, thou art sent
 To Friends, not foes: to Friends that will give place
 To thee, thy Pilgrims and thy words embrace.
 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal'd,
 Thou my brave Second Pilgrim hast reveal'd;
 What Christian left lock't up, and went his way,
 Sweet Christiana opens with her Key.
 
 
 4 Objection
 
 
 But some love not the method of your first,
 Romance they count it, throw't away as dust.
 If I should meet with such, what should I say?
 Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay?
 
 
 Answer
 
 
 My Christiana, if with such thou meet,
 By all means in all loving wise them greet;
 Render them not reviling for revile;
 But if they frown, I prithee on them smile;
 Perhaps 'tis Nature, or some ill report,
 Has made them thus despise, or thus retort.
 
 
 Some love no Cheese, some love no Fish, and some
 Love not their Friends, nor their own House or Home;
 Some start at Pig, slight Chicken, love not Fowl,
 More than they love a Cuckow or an Owl;
 Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice,
 And seek those who to find thee will rejoice;
 By no means strive, but in all humble wise
 Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise.
 
 
 Go then my little Book, and shew to all
 That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall,
 What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest,
 And wish what thou shalt shew them may be blest
 To them for good, may make them chuse to be
 Pilgrims better by far than thee or me.
 
 
 Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art,
 Say, I am Christiana, and my part
 Is now, with my four Sons, to tell you what
 It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot:
 
 
 Go also tell them who and what they be,
 That now do go on Pilgrimage with thee;
 Say, Here's my Neighbor Mercy, she is one
 That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone.
 Come see her in her Virgin Face, and learn
 'Twixt Idle ones and Pilgrims to discern.
 Yea, let young Damsels learn of her to prize
 The World which is to come, in any wise.
 When little tripping Maidens follow God,
 And leave old doting Sinners to his Rod;
 'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried
 Hosanah, to whom old ones did deride.
 
 
 Next tell them of old Honest, who you found
 With his white hairs treading the Pilgrim's ground.
 Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was,
 How after his good Lord he bare his Cross;
 Perhaps with some grey Head this may prevail
 With Christ to fall in Love, and Sin bewail.
 
 
 Tell them also how Master Fearing went
 On Pilgrimage, and how the time he spent
 In Solitariness, with Fears and Cries,
 And how at last he won the joyful Prize.
 He was a good man, though much down in Spirit,
 He is a good man, and doth Life inherit.
 
 
 Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also,
 Who not before, but still behind would go;
 Shew them also how he had like been slain,
 And how one Great-heart did his life regain.
 This man was true of Heart, tho' weak in Grace,
 One might true Godliness read in his Face.
 Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt,
 A man with Crutches, but much without fault;
 Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he
 Did love, and in opinions much agree.
 And let all know, tho' weakness was their chance,
 Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance.
 
 
 Forget not Master Valiant-for-the-truth,
 That Man of courage, though a very Youth.
 Tell every one his Spirit was so stout,
 No man could ever make him face about,
 And how Great-heart and he could not forbear,
 But put-down Doubting Castle, slay Despair.
 
 
 Overlook not Master Despondancie,
 Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, tho' they lie
 Under such Mantles as may make them look
 (With some) as if their God had them forsook.
 They softly went, but sure, and at the end
 Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their Friend.
 When thou hast told the world of all these things,
 Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings,
 Which if but touched, will such Musick make,
 They'll make a Cripple-dance, a Giant quake.
 
 
 These Riddles that lie couch't within thy breast,
 Freely propound, expound; and for the rest
 Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain
 For those whose nimble Fancies shall them gain.
 
 
 Now may this little Book a blessing be
 To those who love this little Book and me,
 And may its Buyer have no cause to say,
 His Money is but lost or thrown away;
 Yea, may this Second Pilgrim yield that fruit,
 As may with each good Pilgrim's Fancie suit;
 And may it persuade some that go astray,
 To turn their Feet and Heart to the right way:
 
 
 Is the Hearty Prayer of the Author John Bunyan.
 
 
      Courteous Companions, some time since, to tell you my Dream that I had of
 Christian the Pilgrim, and of his dangerous Journey toward the Coelestial
 Country, was pleasant to me, and profitable to you. I told you then also what
 I saw concerning his Wife and Children, and how unwilling they were to go with
 him on Pilgrimage, insomuch that he was forced to go on his Progress without
 them; for he durst not run the danger of that destruction which he feared
 would come by staying with them in the City of Destruction. Wherefore as I
 then shewed you, he left them and departed.
 
 
      Now it hath so happened, through the multiplicity of Business, that I
 have been much hindred and kept back from my wonted Travels into those parts
 whence he went, and so could not till now obtain an opportunity to make
 further enquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an account of
 them. But having had some concerns that way of late, I went down again
 thitherward. Now having taken up my Lodgings in a Wood about a mile off the
 place, as I slept I dreamed again.
 
 
      And as I was in my Dream, behold an aged Gentleman came by where I lay;
 and because he was to go some part of the way that I was travelling, methought
 I got up and went with him. So as we walked, and as Travellers usually do, I
 was as if we fell into discourse, and our talk happened to be about Christian
 and his Travels, for thus I began with the old man.
 
 
      Sir, said I, what Town is that there below, that lieth on the left hand
 of our way.?
 
 
      Then said Mr Sagacity, (for that was his name) It is the City of
 Destruction, a populous place, but possessed with a very ill-conditioned and
 idle sort of People.
 
 
      I thought that was the City, quoth I, I went once myself through that
 Town, and therefore know that this report you give of it is true.
 
 
      Sag. Too true, I wish I could speak truth in speaking better of them that
 dwell therein.
 
 
      Well, Sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well-meaning man; and
 so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good: pray did
 you never hear what happened to a man some time ago in this Town (whose name
 was Christian) that went on Pilgrimage up towards the higher Regions?
 
 
      Sag. Hear of him! Ay, and I also heard of the Molestations, Troubles,
 Wars, Captivities, Cries, Groans, Frights, and Fears that he met with and had
 in his Journey. Besides, I must tell you, all our Country rings of him; there
 are but few houses that have heard of him and his doings but have sought after
 and got the Records of his Pilgrimage; yea, I think I may say that his
 hazardous Journey has got a many well-wishers to his ways; for though when
 he was here, he was Fool in every man's mouth, yet now he is gone, he is
 highly commended of all. For 'tis said he lives bravely where he is; yea, many
 of them are resolved never to run his hazards, yet have their mouths water at
 his gains.
 
 
      They may, quoth I, well think, if they think anything that is true, that
 he liveth well where he is; for he now lives at and in the Fountain of Life,
 and has what he has without labour and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed
 therewith.
 
 
      Sag. Talk! the people talk strangely about him. Some say that he now
 walks in White, that he has a Chain of Gold about his neck, that he has a
 Crown of Gold, beset with Pearls, upon his head. Others say that the Shining
 Ones that sometimes shewed themselves to him in his Journey, are become his
 Companions, and that he is as familiar with them in the place where he is, as
 here one Neighbor is with another. Besides, 'tis confidently affirmed
 concerning him, that the King of the place where he is has bestowed upon him
 already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at Court; and that he every day
 eateth and drinketh, and walketh, and talketh with him; and receiveth of the
 smiles and favours of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected
 of some, that his Prince, the Lord of that Country, will shortly come into
 these parts, and will know the reason, if they can give any, why his Neighbors
 set so little by him, and had him so much in derision when they perceived that
 he would be a Pilgrim. For they say, that now he is so in the affections of
 his Prince, and that his Sovereign is so much concerned with the indignities
 that were cast upon Christian when he became a Pilgrim, that he will look upon
 all as if done unto himself; and no marvel, for 'twas for the love that he had
 to his Prince that he ventured as he did.
 
 
 


Next: Pilgrim's Progress: Part Two, Section II.