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 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 needst 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 staggering, 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 watery 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 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 his wisdom 's covered
With its own mantle. 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 fancy more itself 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 pr'ythee on them smile:
Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report,
Has made them thus despise; 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 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 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 blest
To them for good, may make them choose 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 neighbour 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,
Hosanna to whom 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 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, though 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, though 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 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 thy mysterious lines, let them remain
For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain.
Now, may this LITTLE BOOK a blessing be
To those that 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 persuade some that go astray,
To turn their foot and heart to the right way,
Is the hearty prayer of the Author,
JOHN BUNYAN.
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