The Pilgrims Progress | Page 2

with it be, Forbear to
judge till you do further see.
If that thou wilt not read, let it alone; Some love the meat, some love to
pick the bone. Yea, that I might them better palliate, I did too with
them thus expostulate: --
{4} May I not write in such a style 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 silver drops Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops, Gives
praise to both, and carpeth not at either, But treasures up the fruit they
yield together; Yea, so commixes both, that in her fruit None can
distinguish this from that: they suit Her well when hungry; but, if she
be full, She spews out both, and makes their blessings null.
You see the ways the fisherman doth take To catch the fish; what
engines doth he make? Behold how he engageth all his wits; Also 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 groped for, and be tickled too, 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 guns, 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 whistle to catch this, Yet, if he does so, that bird
he will miss.
If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, And may be found too in an
oyster-shell; 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, (Though void of all these
paintings that may make It with this or the other man to take) Is not
without those things that do excel What do in brave but empty notions
dwell.
{5} `Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, That this your book will stand,
when soundly tried.' Why, what's the matter? `It is dark.' What though?
`But it is feigned.' What of that? I trow? 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; metaphors make us blind.'
Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to
men; But must I needs want solidness, because By metaphors I speak?
Were not God's laws, His gospel laws, in olden times 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.
{6} Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude That I want solidness --
that I am rude; All things solid in show 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
enclose the gold.
The prophets used much by metaphors To set forth truth; yea, who so
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 style 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 turn our darkest nights to days.
{7} 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 judgement, rectifies the mind; Pleases the
understanding, makes the will Submit; the memory too it doth