The Pilgrim's Progress from this world to that which is to come, delivered under the similitude of a dream. John Bunyan

      The Author's Apology for his Book

      {1} When at the first I took my pen in hand

       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 saints, in this our gospel day,

       Fell suddenly into an allegory

       About their journey, and the way to glory,

       In more than twenty things which I set down.

       This done, I twenty 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 fast,

       I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last

       Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out

       The book that I already am about.

      Well, 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 neighbour: no, not I;

       I did it my own self to gratify.

      {2} Neither did I but vacant seasons spend

       In this my scribble; nor did I intend

       But to divert myself in doing this

       From worser thoughts which make me do amiss.

      Thus, I set 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 pulled, it came; and so I penned

       It down: until it came at last to be,

       For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.

      Well, when I had thus put mine ends together,

       I shewed them others, that I might see whether

       They would condemn them, or them justify:

       And some said, Let them live; some, Let them die;

       Some said, JOHN, print it; others said, Not so;

       Some said, It might do good; others said, No.

      Now was I in a strait, and did not see

       Which was the best thing to be done by me:

       At last I thought, Since you are thus divided,

       I print it will, and so the case decided.

      {3} For, thought I, some, I see, would have it done,

       Though others in that channel do not run:

       To prove, then, who advised for the best,

       Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.

      I further thought, if 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 which were not for its coming forth,

       I said to them, Offend you I am loth,

       Yet, since your brethren pleased 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

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