PILGRIM's PROGRESS

THIS WORLD,

D

Daded,
Τ Η Ε
FROM

TO
That which is to Come;
Delivered under the Similitude of a

W HEN at the first I took my pen in hand

VV Thus for to write, I did not understand
| That I at all should make a little book ,
In such a mode': Nay, I had undertook
To make another; which, when almost done,
Before I was aware, I this begun.

And thus it was; I writing of the way
And race of faints, in this our gospel day,
Fell suddenly into an ailegory
About their journey, and the way to glory,
In more than twenty things, which I set down :
This done, I lwenty more had in my crown;
And they again began to multiply,
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.
Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fart,
I'll put you by yourselves, left you at laft
Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out
The bock that I already am about.
Weil, so I did; but yet I did not think
To shew to all the world my pen and ink.
In such a mode; I only thought to make
I knew not what ; nor did I undertake.
Thereby to please my neighbouis. No, not I;
I did it my own felt to gratify,

Neither did I but vacant reasons spend
In this my scribble; nor did I intend
Bue to divert myself, in doing this,
From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss..

A 2.

Thus

Thus I set peneto paper with delight,
And quickly had my boughts in black and white.
For having now my method by the end,
Still as I pulld, it came ; and fo I penn’d
It down, until it came at last to be,
For length and breadth, the bigness which you fee.

Well, when I had thus put my ends together,
I hew'd them others, that I mighi fee whether
They would condemn them, or ihem justify:
And fome faid, Let them live: fome, I et them die :
Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not fo.
Some faid, it might do good; others said, No.

Now I was in a strait, and did not see
Which was the best thing to be done by me :
"At last I thought, since ye are thus divided,
I print it will, and so the case decided.

For, thought I, fome I fee would have it done,
Though others in that channel do not run :
To

prove then who advifed for the best,
Thus I thought fit to put it to che tett.
I farther thought, it now I did deny
Those that would have it, thus to gratify,
I did not know, but hinder them I might
Of that which would to them be great delight;
For those who were not for its coming forth,
I said to them, Offend

you Fam loathi Yet fince your brethren pleafed with it bez For 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 them better moderate,
I did too with them thus expoftulate ;

May I not write in such a ftile as this;
In such a method too, and yet not miss
My end, thy good? Why may it not be done?
Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.
Yea, dark or bright, if they their filver drops
Cause to defcend, the earth, by yielding crops,
Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,
But treasures up the fruit they yield together :
Yea, fo commixes both, that in their fruit
None can distinguish this from that; they fuit

Her

Her well when hungry; but if she be full,
She spews out both, and makes their blefiing null,

You see the ways the fisherman doth take
To catch the filh; what engines doch he make :
Behold! how he engageth all his wits,
Allo his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets.
Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor line,
Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine;
They must be grop'd for, and be tickled 800,
Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do.

How does the fowler seek to catch his game
By divers means! All which one cannot name :
His gun, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell;
He
creeps,

he

goes, he stands ; yea who can tell
Of all his postures? Yet there's none of these
Will make him master of what fowls he please.
Yea, he must pipe and whille to catch this ;
Yet, if he does so, thac bird he will miss.
If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell,
And may be found too in an oyster Dell ;
If things that promise 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 my little book
(Tho' void of all those paintings that may make
It with this or the other man to take)
Is not without these things that do excell
What do in brave, but empty notions dwell.

Well, yet I am not fully satisfy'd,
That this your book will itand, when foundly try'do

Why, what's the matter Ii is dark; What tho'?'
But it is feign'd: What of that? I tro,
Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine,
Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine!
But they want solidness : Speak, man, thy mind :
They drown the weak : as metaphors make blind.

Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen
Of him that writeth things divine to men.
But muft I needs want folidness, becaufe
By metaphors I (peak? Were not God's laws,
His gospel laws, in older time held forth,
By Shadows, types, and metaphors ? Yet loth