John Bunyan

The Pilgrim's Progress


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Gospel-Laws, in olden time held forth

      By Types, Shadows, and Metaphors! Yet loth

      Will any sober man be to find fault

      With them, lest he be found for to assault

      The highest Wisdom. No, he rather stoops,

      And seeks to find out what by Pins and Loops,

      By Calves, and Sheep, by Heifers, and by Rams,

      By Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs,

      God speaketh to him. And happy is he

      That finds the light and grace that in them be.

      Be not too forward therefore to conclude

      That I want solidness, that I am rude:

      All things solid in shew not solid be;

      All things in Parables despise not we;

      Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive,

      And things that good are, of our souls bereave.

      My dark and cloudy words they do but hold

      The Truth, as Cabinets inclose the Gold.

      The Prophets used much by Metaphors

      To set forth Truth; yea, whoso considers

      Christ, his Apostles too, shall plainly see,

      That Truths to this day in such Mantles be.

      Am I afraid to say that Holy Writ,

      Which for its Stile and Phrase puts down all Wit,

      Is everywhere so full of all these things,

      Dark Figures, Allegories? Yet there springs

      From that same Book that lustre, and those rays

      Of light, that turns our darkest nights to days.

      Come, let my Carper to his Life now look,

      And find there darker lines than in my Book

      He findeth any; Yea, and let him know,

      That in his best things there are worse lines too.

      May we but stand before impartial men,

      To his poor One I dare adventure Ten,

      That they will take my meaning in these lines

      Far better than his lies in Silver Shrines.

      Come, Truth, although in Swaddling-clouts, I find,

      Informs the Judgment, rectifies the Mind,

      Pleases the Understanding, makes the Will

      Submit; the Memory too it doth fill

      With what doth our Imagination please;

      Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.

      Sound words I know Timothy is to use,

      And old Wives’ Fables he is to refuse;

      But yet grave Paul him nowhere doth forbid

      The use of Parables; in which lay hid

      That Gold, those Pearls, and precious stones that were

      Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.

      Let me add one word more. O man of God,

      Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had

      Put forth my matter in another dress,

      Or that I had in things been more express?

      Three things let me propound, then I submit

      To those that are my betters, as is fit.

      1. I find not that I am denied the use

      Of this my method, so I no abuse

      Put on the Words, Things, Readers; or be rude

      In handling Figure or Similitude,

      In application; but, all that I may,

      Seek the advance of Truth this or that way.

      Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave,

      (Example too, and that from them that have

      God better pleased, by their words or ways,

      Than any man that breatheth now a-days)

      Thus to express my mind, thus to declare.

      Things unto thee, that excellentest are.

      2. I find that men (as high as Trees) will write

      Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight

      For writing so; Indeed if they abuse

      Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use

      To that intent; but yet let Truth be free

      To make her sallies upon thee and me,

      Which way it pleases God. For who knows how,

      Better than he that taught us first to Plow,

      To guide our Mind and Pens for his Design?

      And he makes base things usher in Divine.

      3. I find that Holy Writ in many places

      Hath semblance with this method, where the cases

      Do call for one thing, to set forth another;

      Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother

      Truth’s golden Beams: nay, by this method may

      Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.

      And now, before I do put up my Pen,

      I’ll shew the profit of my Book, and then

      Commit both thee and it unto that hand

      That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

      This Book it chalketh out before thine eyes

      The man that seeks the everlasting Prize;

      It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes,

      What he leaves undone, also what he does;

      It also shews you how he runs and runs,

      Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.

      It shews too, who set out for life amain,

      As if the lasting Crown they would obtain;

      Here also you may see the reason why

      They lose their labour, and like Fools do die.

      This Book will make a Traveller of thee,

      If by its Counsel thou wilt ruled be;

      It will direct thee to the Holy Land,

      If thou wilt its directions understand:

      Yea, it will make the slothful active be;

      The blind also delightful things to see.

      Art thou for something rare and profitable?

      Wouldest thou see a Truth within a Fable?

      Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember

      From New-year’s-day to the last of December?

      Then read my Fancies, they will stick like Burrs,

      And may be to the Helpless, Comforters.

      This Book is writ in such a Dialect

      As may the minds of listless men affect:

      It seems a novelty, and yet contains

      Nothing but sound and honest Gospel strains.

      Would‘st thou divert thyself from Melancholy?

      Would’st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?

      Would‘st thou read Riddles, and their Explanation?

      Or else be drowned in