The Author's Way of Sending Forth His Second Part

Go now, my little book, to every place
Where my first Pilgrim has but shewn his face,
Call at their door. If any say, Who's there?
Then answer thou, Christiana is here.
If they bid thee come in, then enter thou,
With all thy boys; and then, as thou know'st how,
Tell who they are, also from whence they came;
Perhaps they know them by their looks, or name.
But if they should not, ask them yet again
If formerly they did not entertain
One Christian, a Pilgrim? If they say
They did; and were delighted in his way:
Then let them know, that those related were
Unto him; yea, his wife and children are.

Tell them, that they have left their house and home,
Are turned Pilgrims, seek a world to come;
That they have met with hardships in the way,
That they do meet with troubles night and day,
That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils,
Have also overcome a many evils.
Yea, tell them also of the next, who have,
Of love to pilgrimage, been stout and brave
Defenders of that way, and how they still
Refuse this world, to do their Father's will.

Go, tell them also of those dainty things,
That pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings.
Let them acquainted be, too, how they are
Beloved of their King, under his care:
What goodly mansions for them he provides,
Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides,
How brave a calm they will enjoy at last,
Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast.

Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace
Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace
Thee, and thy fellows, with such cheer and fare,
As shew will they of Pilgrims lovers are.

Objection I.

But how, if they will not believe of me
That I am truly thine; 'cause some there be
That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name,
Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same;
And by that means have wrought themselves into
The hands and houses of I know not who?


'Tis true, some have of late, to counterfeit
My Pilgrim, to their own my title set;
Yea others, half my name and title too
Have stitched to their book, to make them do;
But yet they, by their features, do declare
Themselves not mine to be, whose e'er they are.

If such thou meet'st with, then thine only way
Before them all, is, to say out thy say,
In thine own native language, which no man
Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can.
If, after all, they still of you shall doubt,
Thinking that you, like gipsies, go about
In naughty wise, the country to defile,
Or that you seek good people to beguile
With things unwarrantable; send for me,
And I will testify you Pilgrims be.
Yea, I will testify that only you
My Pilgrims are; and that alone will do.

Objection II.

But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him,
Of those that wish him damned, life and limb.
What shall I do, when I at such a door
For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more?


Fright not thyself, my book, for such bugbears
Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears.
My Pilgrim's book has travell'd sea and land,
Yet could I never come to understand
That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door,
By any kingdom, were they rich or poor.

In France and Flanders, where men kill each other,
My Pilgrim is esteem'd a friend, a brother.

In Holland too, 'tis said, as I am told,
My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold.

Highlanders and wild Irish can agree
My Pilgrim should familiar with them be.

  By PanEris using Melati.

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