My Pilgrim's book has travell'd sea and land, Yet could I never come to understand
That it was slighted, or turned 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 countenan,
As to be trimm'd, new cloth'd, and deck'd with gems, That it may shew its features and its limbs. Yet more; so public doth my Pilgrim walk, That of him thousand daily sing and talk.
If you draw nearer home, it will appear My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear. City and country both will 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 gallants 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 gentlewomen too Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim shew: Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them in parts His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains, As yields 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 that 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 or old, for stagg'ring and for stable.
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.
One may (I think) say, Both his laughs and cries May well be guess'd at by his wat'ry eyes. Some things are of that nature, as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. When Jacob saw his Rachel with her sheep, He did, at the same time, both kiss and weep. Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head; That doth but shew his wisdom's covered With his own mantle, and to stir the mind To search well 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 could contain, That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. I also know a dark similitude
Will on the curious fancy more intrude, And will stick faster in the heart and head,
Than things from similes 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'd up, and went his way, Sweet Christiana opens with her key.
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?
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 pray the, on them smile: Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report, Has made them thus despis, or thus retort.
Some love no fish, some love no cheese; 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 cuckoo 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 most 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 bless'd To them for good, and make them choose to be Pilgrims by better far than thee and 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 neighbour Mercy; she is ons That has long time with me a pilgrim gone; Come see her in her virgin's 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 doating sinners to his rod, 'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cryd Hosanna! when the old ones did deride.
Next tell them of old Honest, whom 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 the cross. Perhaps with some grey head this may prevail With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail.
Tell them also, how Mr. 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 Mr. Feeble-Mind also.
Who not before, but still behind would go :
Shew them also, how he'd like t' have been slain, And how one Great-Heart did his life regain.
This man was true of heart, though weak in grace One might true godliness read in his face.
Then tell them of Mr. Ready-to Halt,
A man with crutches, but without much fault: c 10
Tell them how Mr. Feeble-Mind and he
Did love, and in opinion n.uch agree;
And let all know, though weakness was their chance, Yet sometimes one would sing, the other dance. Forget not Mr. Valiant-for-the-Truth,
That man of courage, though a very youth. Tell every one his spirit was so stout, No one could ever make him face about; And how Great-Heart and he could not forbear, But pull down Doubting Castle, slay Despair b! Overlook not Mr. Despondency,
Nor Much-Afraid his daughter, though 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 music make, They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake.
Those riddles that lie couch'd within thy breast, Freely propound, expound; and for the rest Of my 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 fancy suit; And may it some persuade, that go astray, To tarn their feet and heart to the right way,
Is the hearty prayer of
The AUTHOR,
b This character is not introduced into the narrative till after the event had
taken place which he is represented as contributing to effect.
SOME time since, to tell you my dream that I had of Christian the pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey towards the celestial 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 hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts where he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make further inquiry after those whom he left behind, that I might give an account of them. But having had some concerns that way of
a Since Mr. Bunyan published the first part of his Pilgrim's Progress, he had been so fully occupied by his pastoral labours, and by his frequent preaching in different parts of England, that he had not been able to accomplish his design of publishing a female Pilgrim's Progress. He was so very popular as a preacher, that if but one day's notice was given in London, the Meeting-house in Zoar Street, Southwark, where he usually preached, would not hold half
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