The Pilgrim's Progress - Facsimile (1878) E-Book

Bunyan John

• Herausgeber: Booksell-Verlag
• Kategorie: Religion und Spiritualität
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

In "The Pilgrim's Progress," John Bunyan crafts an allegorical tale that represents the spiritual journey of the Christian believer. Richly layered with biblical references, the narrative follows the protagonist, Christian, as he ventures from the City of Destruction to the Celestial City, encountering numerous characters and challenges along the way. Bunyan's prose is notable for its simplicity and directness, enabling profound theological insights to emerge from what is ostensibly a straightforward adventure tale. The 1878 facsimile edition allows contemporary readers to appreciate not only the text but also Bunyan's contextual significance as a key figure in 17th-century English literature and Puritan thought, where the struggle for salvation and moral rectitude took center stage. John Bunyan, a tinker by trade and a devout nonconformist, wrote "The Pilgrim's Progress" during his imprisonment for preaching without a license, imparting an authenticity to Christian's struggles that speaks to readers' spiritual quests. Bunyan's own experiences with religious persecution and his deep commitment to his faith undoubtedly influenced the creation of this seminal work, which reveals the complexities and trials of maintaining one's belief in a turbulent world. This essential text is highly recommended for those seeking to deepen their understanding of Christian allegory and its implications for personal faith. It resonates with anyone wrestling with life's fundamental questions, providing a rich source of reflection and spiritual insight. Readers, both scholarly and casual, will find themselves inspired by Bunyan's vivid characters and allegorical journey, making it a timeless addition to any literary collection.

Leseprobe

John Bunyan

The Pilgrim's Progress - Facsimile (1878)

Published by Good Press, 2020

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EAN 4064066067861

Table of Contents

Preface.

THE

Pilgrim's Progreſs

THIS WORLD,

That which is to come

Licenſed and entered according to Order.

JOHN BUNYAN.

The Pilgrims Progreſs

DREA M.

FINIS.

The Concluſion.

THE END .

Preface.

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The first edition of The Pilgrim's Progress, of which an exact reproduction is now placed before the public, was issued by "Nath. Ponder at the Peacock in the Poultrey near Cornhill, 1678." For many years, only one copy was known to exist, viz., that in the library of R. S. Holford, Esq.; it is from this that the present facsimile is produced. At the present time, four copies are known to exist. The example from which the present edition is printed is a compact volume, printed on yellowish grey paper, from, apparently, new type; and so perfectly has it been preserved, that it seems to be in precisely the state in which it left the publisher's shelves. It is a book as full of material peculiarities as any that ever taxed the correctness of a fac-similist; and it may not be out of place to draw attention to some of them.

The spelling and grammar are ​frequently both inaccurate and inconsistent, from a modern point of view; but to this, which is scarcely a peculiarity, we have to add a very irregular use of capital letters, the greatest profusion of italics, the employment now of asterisks and now of letters for reference to the notes, and the use of certain characters differing in form from modern letters, and not commonly used in books of the seventeenth century. The italic k and the st which occur in the Introduction, are examples of these obsolete letters; and the ꝛ in the word Pꝛogreſs, at the head of every page, is of very rare occurrence.

But this edition has other characteristics which render its interest still more vital. The marginal comments, which some modern editors have seen fit to omit, are there in all their quaint force: in one case the temper of Christian, as described in the text, is summarized in the sidenote thus "Christian snibbeth his Fellow"; in another place Bunyan ejaculates in the margin, "O brave Talkative"; and in ​numerous instances these notes have a value of their own, either as samples of the rough vernacular of the author's original book, or as indications of his mode of thought.

This first edition, more than any subsequent one, is replete with quaint expressions in rugged Saxon-English, and with other elements of style which induced Bunyan to say in his "Apology":—

"This Book is writ in such a DialectAs may the minds of listless men affect."

And although the great allegorist never materially changed his handiwork, he did make alterations in his grammar and orthography in the course of the eight editions which he lived to revise. Add to this that his numerous editors have also carried on the work of modification for nearly two centuries; and it will at once be evident that it is a matter of real importance for the reading public of to-day to see what Bunyan really wrote and issued in the first instance.

To compass this end, no pains have been spared. In all those matters of orthography, grammar, rough or quaint expression, ​typographical peculiarity, &c., above referred to, absolute reproduction has been the one aim. Indeed, as regards typography, the present edition is strictly a lineal descendant of that of 1678; for the type now used has been cast from moulds made in 1720, which were taken from the Dutch type used for that first issue. The paper, too, is a close imitation of that manufactured two centuries ago.

The almost complete disappearance of the first edition, all but four copies, may not perhaps indicate the exact measure of avidity with which the book was taken up; but the subsequent history of the work leaves no doubt as to the effectual manner in which the fertile ground of English religious sentiment absorbed the first seeds cast abroad by the homely Bunyan; and, at all events, those seeds produced such a plentiful crop that it were futile now to attempt to compute how many millions of copies of the world- renowned allegory have been read and thumbed and pondered over in the course of the last two centuries.

THE

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Pilgrim's Progreſs

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FROM

THIS WORLD,

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TO

That which is to come:

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Delivered under the Similitude of aDREAM Wherein is Diſcovered, The manner of his setting out His Dangerous Journey; And ſafe Arrival at the Deſired Countrey.

I have uſed Similitudes Hoſ. 12. 10.

By John Bunyan.

Licenſed and entered according to Order.

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LONDON

Printed for Nath. Ponder at the Peacockin the Poultrey near Cornhil, 1678.

THE Author's ApologyFor his BOOK.

When at the firſt I took, my Pen in hand,Thus for to write; I did not underſtandThat I at all should make a little Book.In ſuch a mode Nay, I had undertookTo make another, which when almoſt done;Before I was aware, I this begun.

And thus it was: I writing of the WayAnd Race of Saints, in this our Goſpel-DayFell ſuddenly into an AllegoryAbout 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 faſtI'll put you by your selves, left you at laſtShould prove ad infinitum, and eat outThe 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 makeI knew not what: nor did I undertakeThereby to pleaſe my Neighbour no not I;I did it mine own ſelf to gratiſie.

Neither did I but vacant ſeaſons ſspendIn this my Scribble; nor did I intend​But to divert my ſelf 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 pull' d, it came; and ſo I pennedIt down, until it came at laſt to beFor length and breadth the bigneſs which you ſee.

Well, when I had thus put mine ends together,I ſhew'd them others, that I might ſee whetherThey would condemn them, or them juſtifie: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 ſtraight, and did not ſeeWhich 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.

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 denyThose that would have it thus, to gratifie,I did not know but hinder them I mightOf that which would to them be great delight.

For thoſe that 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.

May I not write in ſuch a ſtile as this?In such a method too, and yet not miſsMine end, thy good? why may it not be done?Dark. Clouds bring Waters, when the bright bringYea, darker bright, if they their Silver drops (noneCauſe 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 FruitNone can distinguiſh this from that, they ſuitHer well, when hungry: but if ſhe be full,She ſpues out both, and makes their bleſſings null.

You ſee the ways the Fiſher-man doth takeTo catch the Fiſh; what Engins doth he make?Behold how he ingageth 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 Engin can make thine;They must be grop't for, and be tickled too,Or they will not be catcht, what e're you do.

How doth the Fowler ſeek to catch his Game,By divers means, all which one cannot name?His Gun, his Nets, his Lime-twigs, light, and bell:He creeps, he goes, he ſtands; yea who can tellOf all his poſtures, Yet there's none of theſeWill make him maſter of what Fowls he please.​Yea, he muſt Pipe, and Whiſtle to catch thisYet if he does ſo, that Bird he will miss.

If that a Pearl may in a Toads-head dwell,And may be found too in an Oiſter-ſhell,If things that promiſe nothing, do containWhat better is then Gold; who will diſdain.(That have an inkling of it,) there to look,That they may find it. Now my little Book,(Tho void of all thoſe paintings that may makeIt with thiſ or the other Man to take)Is not without those things that do excelWhat do in brave, but empty notions dwell.

Well, yet I am not fully ſatisfied,That this your Book will ſtand; when ſoundly try'd

Why, what's the matter! it is dark what tho?But it is feigned. What of that I tro?Some men by feigning words as dark as mine,Make truth to spangle, and its rayes to ſhine.

But they want ſolidneſs: Speak man thy mind.They drown'd the weak',Metaphors make us blind.

Solidity, indeed becomes the PenOf him that writeth things Divine to men;But must I needs want ſolidneſs, becauſeBy Metaphors I ſpeak; Was not Gods Laws,His Goſpel-Laws, in oldertime held forthBy Types, Shadows and Metaphors? Yet lothWill any ſober man be to find faultWith them, leſt he be found for to aſſaultThe higheſt Wiſdom. No, he rather ſtoops,And ſeeks to find out what by pins and loops,​By Calves; and Sheep; by Heifers, and by RamsBy Birds, and Herbs, and by the blood of Lambs,God ſpeaketh to him. And happy is heThat 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 ſoild 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 holdThe Truth, as Cabinets incloſe the Gold.

The Prophets uſed much by MetaphorsTo ſet forth Truth; Yea, who so considersChriſt, his Apoſtles too, shall plainly ſee,That Truths to this day in such Mantles be.

Am I afraid to ſay that holy WritWhich for its Stile, and Phraſe puts down all WitIs every where ſo full of all theſe things,(Dark Figures, Allegories) yet there ſpringsFrom that ſame Book that lustre, and thoſe rayesOf light, that turns our darkeſt nights to days.

Come, let my Carper, to his Life now look,And find There darker lines then in my BookHe findeth any. Tea, 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 durſt adventure Ten,That they will take my meaning in theſe linesFar better then his Lies in Silver Shrines.​Come, Truth, although in Swadling-clouts, I findInforms the Judgement, rectifies the Mind,Pleases the Underſtanding, makes the WillSubmit; the Memory too it doth fillWith 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 no where doth forbidThe uſe of Parables; in which lay hidThat Gold thoſe Pearls, and precious ſtones that wereWorth digging for; and that with greateſt care.

Let me add one word more, O man of God'Art thou offended? dost thou wiſh I hadPut forth my matter in an other dreſs,Or that I had in things been more expreſs?Three things let me propound, then I ſubmitTo thoſe that are my betters, (as is fit)

1. I find not that I am denied the uſeOf this my method, ſo I no abuſePut on the Words, Things, Readers, or be rudeIn handling Figure, or Similitude,In application; but, all that I may,Seek the advance of Truth, this or that way:Denyed, did I ſay? Nay, I have leave,(Example too,and that from them that haveGod better pleaſed by their words or ways,Then any man that breatheth now adays,)Thus to expreſs my mind, thus to declareThings unto thee, that excellentest are.

​2. I find that men (as high as Trees) will writeDialogue-wiſe; yet no man doth them ſlightFor writing so: Indeed if they abuſeTruths curſed be they, and, the craft they uſeTo that intent; But yet let Truth be freeTo make her Salleys upon Thee, and Me,Which way it pleaſes God. For who knows how,Better then 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 (caſesHath ſemblance with this method, where theDoth call for one thing, to ſet forth another:Use it I may then, and yet nothing ſmotherTruths golden Beams Nay, by this method mayMake it caſt forth its rayes as light as day.

And now, before I do put up my Pen,I'le ſhew the profit of my Book, and thenCommit both thee, and it unto that handThat pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones ſtand

This Book it chaulketh out before thine eyesThe 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 runsTill he unto the Gate of Glory comes.

It vhews too, who fits out for life amain,As if the laſting Crown they would attain:Here also you may ſee the reaſon whyThey looſe their labour, and like Fools do die.

​This Book, will make a Travailer 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 ſloathful, active beThe 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 rememberFrom New-years-day to the laſt of December?Then read my fancies, they will ſtick like Burs,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 containsNothing but found, and honeſt Goſpel-ſtrains.Wouldſt thou divert thy ſelf from Melancholly? Would'ſt thou be pleaſant, yet be far from folly?Would'ſt thou read Riddles, & their Explanation?Or else be drownded in thy Contemplation?Dost thou love picking meat? or would'ſt thou seeA man i'th Clouds, and hear him ſpeak to thee?Would'ſt thou be in a Dream, and yet not ſleep?Or would'ſt thou in a moment laugh, and weep?Would'ſt thou loose thy ſelf, and catch no harm?And find thy ſelf again without a charm?Would'ſt read thy self, and read thou know'st not whatAnd yet know whether thou art bleſt or not,By reading the ſame lines? O then come hither,and lay my Book, thy Head,and Heart together.

JOHN BUNYAN.

Table of Contents

ThePilgrims Progreſs:

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In the ſimilitude of a

DREAM.

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