Preface

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THE
PILGRIMS' PROGRESS,
FROM
THIS WORLD
TO
THAT WHICH IS TO COME.
DELIVERED UNDER THE
SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM.
BY JOHN BUNYAN,
Late Minister of the Gospel at Bedford.
A NEW EDITION.-COMPLETE IN THREE PARTS.
/• HAVE USED SIMILITUDES.— lias. xii. 10.
LEEDS :
PRINTED BY GEORGE WILSON, Near the Old Church
1809;
THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY.
w,
REN at the first I took my pen in hand, Thus for to write, I did not underftand That I at all fhould make a little book In fuch a mode : Nay, I had undertook To make another; which, when aimoft done, Before I was aware, I this begun.
And thus it was : I writing of the way And race of faints in this our gofpel-day. Fell fuddenly into an allegory About their journey, and the way to glory, In more than twenty things which I fet down ; This done, I twenty more had in my crown : And they again began to multiply, Like fparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed fo fail, I'll put you by yourfeives, left you at last Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that I already am about, Well, fo I did ; but yet I did not think To (hew to all the world my pen and ink In fuch a modes I only thought to make I knew not what : nor did I undertake Thereby to pleafe my neighbour; no not I, I did it my ownfelf to gratify. Neither did I but vacant feafons fpend In this my fcribble s nor did I intend But to divert myfelf in doing this, From worfer thoughts which make me do amifs, Thus 1 fee pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white ; For having now my method by the end, Still as I pull'd, it came; and fo I penn'd It down ; until it came at laft to be For length and breadth, the bignefs which you fee,
IV MR. BUNYAN S APOLOGY.
Well, when I had thus put my ends together, I (hew'd them others, that I might fee whether They could condemn them, or them juftify j And fome faid, Let them live; fame, Let them die; Some faid, John, print it ; others faid, Not fo ; Some faid, It might do good ; others faid, No.
Now I was in a ftreight, and did not fee Which was the belt, thing to be done by me : At lad I thought, fince ye are thus divided, I print it will j and the cafe decided.
For thought I, fome I fee would have it done, Tho' others in that channel do not run: To prove then who advifed for the beft, Thus I thought fit to put it to the teft.
I farther thought, if now I did deny Thofe that would have it, thus to gratify; I did not know, but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great deligrt For thofe which were not for it coming forth, I faid to them, Offend you I am lothj Yet fince your brethren pleafed with it be, Forbear to judge, till you do farther fee.
If that thou wilt not read, let it alone; Some love the meat, fome love to pick a bone. Yea, that I might then better moderate, I did too with them thus expoftulate :
May I not write in fuch a flile as'th's ? In fuch a method too, and yet not mifs My end, thy good ? Why may it not be done ? Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright oring none, Yea, dark or brighr, if they their silver drops Caufe to defcend, the earth by yielding crops, Give praife to both and carpeth not at either, But treafure up the fruit they yield together, Yea, fo corn mixes both, that in their fruie None can diftinguifh th's from that : ihey fuit Her well when hungry : But if me be full, She fpeivs out both, and makes her blessing null.
You fee the ways the fiihermen doth take To catch (he fifh, what engines doth he make ? Behold S how he engageth ail his wits ;
MR. bunyan's atolcgy.
ATo h's fnares, lines, hooks and nets : Yet fifh there be that neither hook nor line, Nor fnare, nor net, nor engine can make thine ; , They muft be grop'd for, and be tickled too, Or they will not be catch'd, what'er you do.
How does the fowler ferk to catch the game By d vers means? All which one cannot name; His gun, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell; He creeps, he goes, he Hands : yea, who can tell Of all his poftures ? Yet, there's none of these Will make him matter of what fowls he pleafe. Yea, he muft pipe and whittle to catch this Yet if he does so that bird he will mi.'«. ,
If that a pearl may in a tojd's head dwel', And may be found too in an oyster fhell; It things that promife nothing do contain What better is than gold ; who will disdain, That have an inkling of it, there to look, That they may find it ? Now in my little book, (Tho' void of all thefe paintings that they make, It with this or the other man to take) Is not without thofe things that do excel WThat do in brave, but empty notions dwell.
Well, yet I am not fully satisfied. That this your book will fbnd, when foundly try'd,
Why, what's the matter ? it is dark : What tho' But it is feigned : What of that ? I tro* Some men feigned words, as dark as minr-, Make truth to Ipangle, and its rays to fh;ne ! But they want fobdnefs, Speak, man, thy mind : They drown the weak, metaphors make us blind, Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to men : But muft 1 needs want folidnef?, becaufe By metaphors I speak ? Were not God's laws, His gospel laws, in older times held fcrth By types, fhadows and metaphors ? Yet i tit Will any fober man be to find fault With them, left he be found to affault The higheft wi'dom : No, he rather (loops, And leeks to find out by win: p ns and ;oops,
Vi MR. BUNYAN S APOLOGY.
By calves and fheep, by heifers and by rams, By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, God fpeakethto hini; and happy is he That finds the light and grace that in them be.
Be not too forward therefore to conclude That I want folidnefs ; that I am rude; •
All things folid in {hew, not folid be ; All thing in parables despife not we, Left things moft hurtful 3 lightly we receives And things that good are, of our fouls bereave*
My dark and cloudy words they do but hold The truth, as cabinets inclofe the gold.
The prophets used much by metaphors To let forth troth ; yea, whoso confuiers Chrift. his Apofiles too, mall plainly fee, That truths to this day in fuch mantles be.
Am I afraid to fay, That Holy Writ, Which for its ftyle and phrase puts down all wit, Is every jwherefo full of all thtfe things, (Dark figures, allegories) yet there fprings From that fame book, that luftre, and thofe rays Oi light, that turn Our darker! nights to days.
Come let my carper to his life now look, And find there darker lines than in my book He findetri any : Yea, and let him know, That in his bed things there are worfe lines too.
May we but ftand before impartial men, To this poor one I dare adventure ten, That they will rake my meaning in these lines Far better than his lies in filver rhirnes, Come, truth, akho' in fwadling clouts ; I find, Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind : Plea'es she underfranding, makes the will Submit, the memory too it doth fill With what doth our imagination pleafe; Like wife it tends our troubles to appeafe, Sound words, I know, Timothy is to ufe, And old wives fables he is to refufe ; But yet grave Paul him no where did forbid, The ufe of parables j in which lay hid That gold, thofe pearls, and precious (tones that were W.otth digging for, and that with greateft care.
y;i MR BUNVAN S APOLOGY.
Let me add one word more. O man of God, Art thou offended ? Doftthou wifh I had Put forth my matter in another drefs ! Or, that I had in things been more exprefs ? To thofe that are my betters, as is fit, Three things let me propound, then 1 submit
i. I find not that I am deny'd the ufe Of this my methods, i^o I no abufe Put on the words, things readers, or be rude In handling figure, or fimilitude, In application, but all that I may Seek the advance of truth this or tliat way : Denied, did I fay ? Nay, I have leave (Examples too, and that from them that have God better pleafed by their words or ways, Than any man that breathes now-a-day) Thus to exprefs my mind, thus to declare Tilings unto thee that excelienteft are.
2. I find that men (as high as trees) will wi ite Dialogue wife; ver. no man doUi them flight. For writing ib \ Indeed if they abufe
Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they ufe To that intent; but yet let Truth be free To make her falliesupon thee and me, Which way it pleafes God : For who knows how Better then he that taught us firft to plow, To guide our minds and pens for his defign ? And he makes bafe things ufher in divine.
3. I find that Holy- Writ in many places
Hath femblance with this. method, where the cafes Do call for one thing to fet forth another; Ufe it I may then, and yet nothing fmother, Truth's golden beams : Nay, by this method may Make it caft forth it's rays as light as day.
And low, before I do put my pen, I'll fnew the profit of my book, and then Commit both thee and it unto that hand That pulls the ftrong down, and makes weak ones ftand.
This book it chalketh out before thine eyes The man that feeks the ever) afting Prize : It mows you whence he comes, whither he goes >
T23I MR. BUNYAN S APOLOGY.
What he leaves undone ; alfo what he does j It alio lhews you hotfr he runs, and runs, 'Till he iinto the gate of glory comes.
It (hews too, who fet out for life amain, As if the lading crown they would obtain : Here alio you may fee the reafon why They lofe their labour, and like fools to die.
This book will make a traveller of thee, If by its counfel thou wilt ruled be ; It will direct thee to the HoSy-Land, If thou will its directions underltand : Yea, it will make the flothful active be, The blind alfo delightful things to fee.
Art thou for fomething rare and profitable j Wouldeft thou fee a* truth within a fable; Art thou forgetful j Woul.ieft thou remember From New-Year's Day to the laft of December. Then read my fancies, they will flick like bursj And may be to the helplefs comforters.
This book is wrote in fuch a dialect, As may the minds of liftlefs men affed ; It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but found and honest gospel {trains.
Wonld'st thou divertthyfelffrom melancholy Wouhi'st thou be p'eafanr, yet far from folly ? Would'jst thou read riddles and their explanation ? Or elfe be drowned in thy contemplation ? Doft thou love picking meat ? Or would'ft thou fee A man i'th cloud and hear him fpeak to thee ? Woald'ft thou be in a dream, and yet not afleep ? Or, would'ft thou in a moment laugh and weep? Or would'ft thou lofe thyfelf, and catch no harm And find thyfelf again without a charm ? Would'ft read thyielf, and read thouknow'ft not what, And yet not know whether thou art bleft, or not, By reading the fame lines ? O then come huher, And lay my book, thy head, and heart together.
JOHN BUNYAN.
PILGRIM'S PROGRESS,