Objection IV.

But some love not the method of your first;
Romance they count it, throw't away as dust,
If I should meet with such, what should I say?
Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay?

Answer.

My Christiana, if with such thou meet,
By all means, in all loving-wise, them greet;
Render them not reviling for revile;
But if they frown, I prithee on them smile;
Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report,
Has made them thus despise or thus retort.

Some love no cheese, some love no fish, and some
Love not their friends, nor their own house or home
Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl,
More than they love a cuckoo or an owl;
Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice,
And seek those who to find thee will rejoice;
By no means strive, but in humble-wise
Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise.

Go, then, my little book, and shew to all
That entertain, and bid thee welcome, shall,
What thou shalt keep close, shut up from the rest,
And wish what thou shalt shew them may be blest

To them for good, may make them choose to be
Pilgrims better by far than thee or me.

Go, then, I say, tell all men who thou art;
Say, I am Christiana, and my part
Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what
It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot.

Go also, tell them who and what they be,
That now do go on pilgrimage with thee;
Say, Here's my neighbour, Mercy, she is one
That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone.
Come, see her in her virgin face, and learn
'Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern.
Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize
The world which is to come, in any wise.
When little tripping maidens follow God,
And leave old doting sinners to his rod;
'Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried,
Hosanna! to whom old ones did deride. With his white hairs, treading the Pilgrim's ground.
Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was,
How after his good Lord he bare his cross;
Perhaps with some grey head this may prevail
With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail.

Tell them also, how Master Fearing went
On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent
In solitariness, with fears and cries;
And how, at last, he won the joyful prize.
He was a good man, though much down in spirit,
He is a good man, and doth life inherit.

Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also,
Who, not before, but still behind would go.
Shew them also, how he had like been slain,
And how one Great-heart did his life regain.
This man was true of heart, though weak in grace,
One might true godliness read in his face.

Then tell them of Master Ready-to-halt,
A man with crutches, but much without fault;
Tell them how Master Feeble-mind and he
Did love, and in opinions much agree.
And let all know, though weakness was their chance,
Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance.
Forget not Master Valiant-for-the-truth,
That man of courage, though a very youth.
Tell every one his spirit was so stout,
No man could ever make him face about;
And how Great-heart and he could not forbear,
But put down Doubting Castle, slay Despair.

Overlook not master Despondency,
Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie
Under such mantles as may make them look
(With some) as if their God had them forsook.
They softly went, but sure, and at the end
Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend.
When thou hast told the world of all these things,
Then turn about, my book, and touch these strings,
Which, if but touch'd, will such music make,
They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake.

These riddles that lie couch'd within thy breast,
Freely propound, expound; and for the rest
Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain
For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain.