THE WILLIAM R. PERKINS LIBRARY OF DUKE UNIVERSITY Rare Books B R> THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. BY JOHN BUNYAN. HAVE USED SIMILITUDES.— HOSEA IH. 10. BRATTLEBOROUGH, YT. PUBLISHED BY JOHN HOLBRQOR 1815. fo . /c •— THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. THE whole compass of biography exhibits not a character more interesting than that of a man convert- ed from singular depravity of manners, to eminent piety : and raised from the deepest obscurity, to be an author celebrated for genius, and uncommonly useful to mankind. Such was the excellent writer oi the Pil- grim's Progress. John Bunyan was born at Elstow, within a mile of Bedford, in the year 1628. His descent was, as him- self expresses it, of a ' low and inconsiderable genera- tion,' his father being an itinerant tinker, and his mother of the like rank. They gave him the best education in their power, which was common reading and writing, of which he afterwards made a very excellent use ; but for the present, he gave himself up to the most exe- crable vices, particularly w cursing, swearing, lying, and blaspheming the holy name of God." During this period he was not without considerable checks of conscience. At but nine or ten years of age, in the midst of his sports and childish vanities, he was often distressed, both by day and night. For even in his sleep he wa-o terrified with " apprehensions of devils and wicked spirits," and " of the fearful torments of hell-fire," insomuch that he sometimes wished him- self to be a devil to torment others, that thereby (as he ignorantly hoped) he might escape being tormented by them. These terrors were but partial and temporary re- straints upon his conduct, and by no means cured him of his delight in sin, or of his aversion to true religion. He mentions it, however, as a remarkable circumstance in his experience, that though he delighted in his own sins and those of his wicked companions, * it made his heart ache,' to hear profane language from people re- putedly religious, and to see the wicked actions of per- sons professing godliness. 4 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. The early part of Mr. Bunyan's life was also attend- ed with some hair breadth escapes from dangerous ac- cidents. At one time he fell into the river Ouse ; at another into a creek of the sea ; in a third instance he escaped the bite of an adder, and (after wounding it) drew out its sting with his fingers; but the most re- markable instance was the following : while a soldier in the Parliament army in 1 645, he was drafted for the siege of Leicester, but another, desiring to exchange with him, took his place, and was shot through the head with a musket-ball, while standing sentinel. Soon after this he married a young woman, poor as himself; for they had not, he says, u so much house- hold-stuff as a spoon or dish between them." But she had been blessed with a religious education, and brought for her marriage portion two small devotional tracts, il The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," and M The Practice of Piety." These books Bunyan repeatedly read ; and though they were not the means of his con- version, they had such an effect on him, that he was willing to " do many things," and give up some of his outward vices. At this period he received a considerable check of conscience under one of the sermons he heard at church on sabbath-breaking, to which he was much addicted ; but this conviction he shook out of his mind, and the same afternoon returned to his usual Sunday sports, when the following incident happened, which shall be related in his own words : " The same day, as I was in the midst of a game of cat, and having struck it one blow from the hole, just as I was about to strike the second time, a voice did suddenly dart from heaven into my soul, which said, u Wilt thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have thy sins and go to hell ?" u At this I was put to an ex- ceeding amaze ; wherefore, leaving my cat upon the ground, I looked up to heaven, and was as if I had Tjith the eyes of my understanding, seen the Lord Jesus looking down upon me, as being very hotly dis- pleased with me, and as if he did severely threaten me with some grievous punishment for these and other ungodly practices." THE LIFE OF JOHN BIJNYAff. ^ " I had no sooner thus conceived in my mind, but suddenly this conclusion was fastened on my spirit, that I had been a great and giievous sinner, and that it was now too late forme to look after heaven. Then I felt my heart sink in despair, and therefore I resolved to ,9;o on in sin : For, thought I, if the case be thus, my state is surely miserable^ miserable if I leave my sins, and but miserable if I follow them. I can but be dam- ned ; and if I must be so, i had as good be damned for many as for few. *' Thus I stood in the midst of my play before all that then were present : yet I told them nothing ; but having made thi : conclusion I returned desperately to my sport again : and I well remember, that presently this kind of despair did so possess my soul, that I was persuaded I could*never attain to other comfort than what I should get in sin : wherefore I found within me a great desire to take my fill of sin ; still studying what sin was yet to be committed, that I might taste the sweetness of it, lest I should die before I had my desires. In these things I protest before God, I lie not ; these were really, strongly, and with all my heart my desires. The good Lord, whose mercy is unsearchable, forgive me my transgressions V Thus Bunyan 1FE OF JOHN BUNFAN. 11 ahofrt duration : the enemy returned to the charge with double force, re-attacked him with increased malice, and he was now tempted to question the first principle and ground-work of all religion, the very being of a God. Or, admitting this, said the spirit of infidelity, " How can you tell but the Turks have as good scriptures, to prove their Mahomet to be the Saviour, as we have to prove our Jesus ? Every one thinks his own religion right, Jews, Moors, and Pagans ! and what if all our faith, and Christ, and scriptures should be no more !" These sceptical suggestions were accompanied with strong temptations to immorality and profaneness-— even to curse God, and to blaspheme his Son. For infidelity and profaneness are of near neighborhood, and the arch enemy of mankind knows how to acceler- ate the course of sinners from one unto the other. Sometimes he attempted to reason with his tempta- tions, but under great disadvantages, for want of his be- ing acquainted with the external evidences of Christiani- ty^ The principal check his doubts received was from an ■fcmal principle, which rejected and disrelished them, flftength it pleased God, however, to permit him for a timl to sink into despondency ; and, at intervals, he feared that his senses would have left him ; at other times he thought himself possessed by the devil. But the sorest trial of this period of his life, was a temptation to commit the unpardonable sin against the Holy Ghost ; this he was prompted even to covet the opportunity of committing, though the new principle within him so revolted at the suggestion, that he forci- bly closed his mouth with his hands, lest the fatal blas- phemy should escape him. This temptation lasted about a year, and was attend- ed, one while, with peculiar insensibility, and atother times with such distractions in duty, as frustrated his attempts to pray ; and so much was his mind convul- sed by it, that sometimes he thought he even felt one bekind him pulling his clothes, to stop him when he began to pray. It is unnecessary, and might appear tedious, to relate all the temptations with which this good man was agi- tated during this period 5 it is, howiver, proper to ob- 12 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. serve, that they were not without some allays of com- fort ; his cup was bitter, but mixed with some pleasant ingredients; or, to speak without a figure, he had in- tervals of consolation ; many precious promises were applied, and he was at sometimes as much elevated with joy, as he was at others depressed with grief. It is also worthy of observation, that during this time he enjoyed the advantages of sitting under the ministry of good Mr. Gifford (^an ancestor of the late learned Dr. Gifford), an evangelical and useful minister at Bedford ; whose advice appears to be very judicious and saluta- ry. * He would bid us take special heed (says Bun van) that we took not up any truth upon trust ; as from this or that man ; but pray to God that he would convince us of the reality thereof by his Spirit in the word ; for (said he) otherwise, when temptations come, not having received them with evidence from heaven, you will find the want of that help and strength to resist, which once you thought you had/ This advice was very seasonable to Bunyan, who betook himself to the scrip- tures, and to prayer ; and there found, as every simple honest inquirer doubtless will, all the satisfaction which he desired. He remarks also, that the sense he tiad of the evil of sin, was of use to keep him steady in the truth, by discovering his absolute need of a Sa- viour, and exactly such a Saviour as the New Testa- ment reveals. About this time he met with Martin Luther upon the Galatians, and was much struck with the similarity ot his experience with that of the good old reformers ; and to find him describe so nearly the various tempta- tions and conflicts which he had felt. He also received from this book considerable light into the gospel scheme of redemption, and esteemed it, next to the Bi- ble, the most valuable book he had ever met with. Now again he began to rejoice and triumph : now he began to sing with the psalmist, ' My mountain stands strong ; I shall never be removed.'* He found however, this was but a short truce in his warfare ; and that these comforts were only to support and strengthen him for future conflicts. * Psal. mx. e, r. THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 13 The next trial which beset him was a truly diaboli- cal one — it was to sell Christ, to exchange him * for the things of this life, for any thing/ And those words, * Sell him, sell him*, would be impressed upon his thoughts an hundred times running, for hours togeth- er, and that during a succession of many weeks. It may well be supposed he prayed and strove against this temptation ; at last he found nothing so much re- lieved him as answering the enemy in his own way, as last as his temptations were repeated — 'I will not, I will not, I will not, no, not for thousands, thousands, thousands of worlds I* At length, after much striving, he felt the thought pass through his heart, as he expres- ses it — ' Let him go if he will :' and he imagined also that for the moment, it had his free consent. ' Now (says our author) was the battle won ; and down fell I, as a bird that is shot from the top of a tree, into great guilt and fearful despair.' And this continued until he was at length relieved with that comfortable word, 4 The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.'* During the above period the tempter assaulted him in a manner that some persons have jested with, though it was no jest to Bunyan. In short, he tells us, his en- emy would not let him eat his food in quiet : bui ' for- sooth (says he) when I was set at my table at any meat, I must go hence to pray ; I must leave my food now, and just now ; so counterfeit holy would this devil be ! When I was thus tempted, I would say in myself, '* Now I am at my meat, let me make an end." — " (No said he) you must do it now, or you will displease God, and despise Christ." And when he omitted to obey this temptation, his conscience smote him as if he had refused to leave his meat for God. We have already mentioned the consolation he re- ceived from a sense of the efficacy of atoning blood ; on this occasion it seemed to him ' as if the tempter did leer y and steal away from him, as ashamed of what he had done :' but this modest fit of the devil was of short duration ; he soon recollected his usual effronte- ry, and returned with a more serious and alarming • John i. 7. B 14 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. temptation. In short, he now tempted him to believe (hat he had committed that unpardonable sin, the ski against the Holy Ghost ;* and that his case was like Esau's, after he had sold his birth-right, * when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected ; for he found no place for repentance, * though he sought it carefully with tears."! These passages have given so much pain and unea- siness to others beside Bunyan, that it may not be an unprofitable digression, to bestow a short explanation on them, in hopes it may be of use to such as may in future be attacked with the like temptations. Divines seem now pretty well agreed, that an enligh- tened understanding and a malicious heart, must meet in the same person, to constitute a capacity of commit- ting the unpardonable sin. Thus it has been supposed, that if Peter had denied his Master with the same mal- ice that Paul persecuted him ; or if Paul had persecu- ted Jesus with the sa.me conviction of his divinity as Peter had received when he denied him — either would have committed the unpardonable sin. The instances of this union of knowledge and hatred are so few, that we may reasonably hope sinners of this class are far from numerous : the most awful appearance of it ieems to be in those malicious pharisees, who wilful- ly shut their eyes against the evidences of Christ's mis- sion, and attributed all his miracles to the agency of Belzebub. The case of Esau has also been much misunder- stood: the ft lace he sought for repentance was not in his own, but his father's mind, as appears by the histo- ry \ that is, he sought to revoke his father's blessing. The supposition, however, that he had committed the unpardonable sin, had such an effect on Bunyan, that it not only distressed his mind, but made his very body, tremble for many days together ; and produced such a stoppage and heat at his stomach, as greatly dis- ordered him. Some comfort indeed he received, at intervals, from occasional reflections on the promises ; but the most effectual relief he met with was in the * Mark iii. ?9. t Heb. xii. 17* THE LIFE OF JOHX BUNYAtf. 15 following extraordinary manner, which shall be related in his own words : 4 Once, as I was walking to and fro' in a good man's shop, bemoaning myself in my sad and dol eful state, praying also in my heart, that if this sin of mine did differ from that against the Holy Ghost, the Lord would show it me ; and being now ready to sink with fear, suddenly there was, as if there had rushed in at the window, the noise of wind upon me ; but very pleasant, and as if I heard a voice speaking, " Didst thou ever refuse to be justified by the blood of Christ ?" And withal my whole life of profession past, was in a moment opened to me ; wherein I was made to see, that designedly I had not; so my heart answered groaningly, ' k No." ' Then fell, with power, that word, of God upon me, ' See that thou refuseth not him that speaketh.'* This made a strange seizure upon my spirit : it brought light with it, and commanded silence in my heart. It showed me, also, that Jesus Christ had yet a word of grace and mercy for me ; yea, this was a kind of threatening of me, if I did not, notwith- standing^ny sins and the heinousness of them, venture my salvation upon the Son of God. But as to my de- termining about this strange dispensation, what it was, I know not ; or from whence it came I know not : I have not yet, in twenty years time, been able to make a judgment of it : I thought then what here I should be loth to speak. But verily that -sudden rushing wind was, as if an angel had come upon me ; but both it and the salvation I will leave until the day of judg- ment : only this I say, it commanded a great calm in my soul ; it persuaded me there might be hope ; it showed me, as I thought, what the sin unpardonable was, and that my soul had yet the blessed privilege to flee to Jesus Christ for mercy. This lasted in the sa- vour of it for about three or four days : and then I be- gan to mistrust and despair again.' In this situation Bunyan found his mind strongly im- pelled to private prayer, which, when the tempter per- ceived, he endeavored to persuade him that it was now * HeJb. *ii, 25. 16 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. oo late ; that having denied and rejected Christ, it was only adding sin to sin, and further provocation to his crimes. His case was desperate ; but he resolved that if he perished, it should be ' at the foot of Christ in prayer.' About this time he took the opportunity to break his mind to an aged Christian. I told him (says be) that I was afraid I had sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost. He told me he thought so too* Here, there- fore he had but cold comfort ; and talking further with him, found him, though a good man, a stranger to such severe spiritual conflicts. He therefore went to God again, and reiterated his cries for mercy : though as yet with little comfort, because the hour of his deliv- erance was not fully come. In this interval he walked to a neighboring town, where sitting to rest himself upon a settle in the street, he fell into a deep pause upon his state : after long musing he lifted up his head : * But methought (says he) I saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light ; and as if the very stones in the street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me : methought that they all combined togeth- er to banish me out of the world ; I was abhorred of them, and unworthy to dwell among them, or to be partaker of their benefits, because I had sinned against the Saviour. O how happy now was every creature over me ! for they stood fast, and kept their station> but I was gone and lost. ' Then breaking out in the bitterness of my soul, I said to my soul, with a grievous sigh, " How can God comfort such a wretch as I am ?" I had no sooner said it, but this returned upon me, as an echo doth answer a voice, " This sin is not unto death."* At which I was as if I had been raised out of the giave, and cried out again, " Lord how couldst thou find such a word as this ?" For I was filled with admiration at the fitness and at the unexpectedness cf the sentence : the power and sweetness, and light, and glory, that came with it also, was marvellous to me to find. Now, thought I* *John v. 16, 17. THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAtf. 17 if this sin-is not unto death, then it is pardonable ; there- fore from this I have encouragement to come lo God by Christ for mercy, as well as others.' The comfort of this word, however, was not of long duration, any more than the preceding. Within two or three days he began to droop again ; but, again and again, was revived with the application of some or oth- er of the promises of the gospel. These repeated temptations made him more attentive and scrupulous in examining the ground of his consolations, lest he should deceive himself with a misapplication of the pro- mises. Thus his mind continued for weeks, and months, and in the whole for years, hanging (so he express- es it) • as in a pair of scales ; sometimes up, and sometimes down ; now in peace, and anon again in ier- ror ;' not, however, so extreme as he had felt before; for this was but the hinder part of the tempest : * the thunder (says he) was gone beyond me, only some drops did still now and then fall on me ; but because my former frights and anguish were sore and deep ; therefore it oft befel me still, as it befalleth those that have been scared with fire, I thought every voice was Fire ! Fire J* At length his chains were loosed, his irons knocked off, and those alarming scriptures ceased to trouble him. As he saw further into the nature and spirit of the gospel, he felt the ground of his dependance more secure, aud was in the end made an extraordinary is- strument of comforting others with the same consola- tions which he himself received. But before we pro- ceed, I beg leave to be indulged in a few observations on the -preceding narrative ; and shall begin wi^h Mr. Bunyan's own reflections. 1. On the causes of his extraordinary temptations. These he considers as principally two, which shall be related in his own simple phraseology. * The first was that I did not, when I was delivered from the tempta- tions that went before, still pray to Qstti ,to keep me from temptations that were to coine ; for though, as J. ^an say in truth, my soul was much in prayer before this trial seized me ; yet then 1 prayed only, or princi- pally for the removal of present troubles, aiidfer jfoe&k 32 18 THE LIFE OV JOHN BVXYATt, discoveries of his love in Christ : which I saw after- wards was not enough to do ; I also should have pray- ed, that the great God would keep me from the evil that was to come : according to what is written, " Pray, that ye enter not into temptation." Another cause of this temptation was, that I had tempted God, and in this manner : upon a time my wife was great with child, and before her full time was come, her pangs as of a woman in travail, were fierce and strong upon her ; even as if she would have imme- diately fallen in labor, and been delivered of an untime- ly birth. Now at this very time it was, that I had been so strongly tempted to question the being of God ; wherefore, as my wife lay crying by me, I said, but with all secrecy imaginable, even thinking in my heart, "Lord, if now thou will remove this sad affliction fiom my wife, and cause that she be troubled no more there- with this night (and now were her pangs just upon her) then I shall know that thou canst discern the most secret thoughts of my heart." I had no sooner said it in my heart, but her pangs were taken from her, and she was cast into a deep sleep ; at this I great- ly marvelled ; but after a good while 1 fell to sleep al- so : so when I awaked in the morning, it came upon me again, what I had said in my heart the last night, and how the Lord had showed me, that he knew my secret thoughts ; which was a great astonishment unto me for several weeks after. Well, about a year and a half afterwards, that sinful thought, of which I have spoken before, went through my wicked heart ; even this thought, u let Christ go if he will :,* so when I was fallen under guilt for this, the remembrance of my other thought, and of the effect thereof, would also come upon me, with this rebuke a- long with itj " Now you may see that God doth know the most secret thoughts of the heart.'* And with this,ihat of the passages that were betwixt the Lord andi^s servant Gideon, fell upon my spirit ; how because that Gideon tempted God with his fleece, both wet and dry, when he should have believed and ventured upon his word : therefore the Lord did after- wards so try him, as to send hira against an innumers- THE LIFE OF JOHN BtJNYAN. 19 ble company of enemies ; and that too, as to outward appearance, without any strength or help.* Thus he served me, and that justly ; for 1 should have believed his word, and not have put an if to the all-seeing God.' 2. Our author leads us i.ext to remark the advanta- ges he derived from these painful and distressing trials; they were briefly such as these : a strong and abiding conviction of the being, power, and holiness of God — a deep experience of the value and preciousness of the promises, to which he was enabled to ciing and cleave, as a man in immediate danger of being drowned — an exceeding lively sense of the infinite mercy, grace, and love of God, which was at times such, that he thinks if it had abode long ' it would have made him incapable of business.' We must now resume our narrative, consider our author as a public character, and give some account of his being called to the work of the ministry, which was 1 about five or six years' after his conversion. This was first suggested, it seems, by some serious and ju- dicious members of Mr. Gifford's church, who appre- hended that, both from his gifts and experience, he was calculated for public and eminent usefulness in the church. His first attempts were (as is the manner among dis- senters^ in private, and to a few select heaiers ; after- wards he ventured to exhort in some of the neighboring villages; and finally, at the desire of the church, he ■was solemnly set apart, with prayer and fasting, to the public ministry of the word. As to himself, he tells us, he was enabled to see ' that the Holy Ghost never intended that men who have gifts and abilities should bury them in the earth ; but rather did command and stir up such to the exercise of their gift ; and also did commend those that were apt and ready so to do : " They have addicted themselves to the ministry of the saints."t When it was known that Bunyan, the profane tinker, had commenced a preacher of the Gospel, hearers soon flocked around him to the amount of many hundreds, and that from all quarters. Nor did he preach long Jwjg. ¥» 7. \ 1 Cor. xvi. 5- I'O THE LIKE OF JOHN BUNYAN. without visible success : many came with weeping eyes and bleeding hearts, to confess their sins, and bless God for him as the instrument of their conversion. At first he found it hard to believe that the Lord had so highly honored him, but was soon constrained to join wiin them in blessing ajid adoration. One instance panic alarly worth recording, is of a dissolute student of Cambridge university, who, being indu< ed by curiosity to hear * tfie tinker prate/ was so aft* toted w/ch his sermon as to become a real convert, and, in tAie issue, an eminent preacher of the gospel. Th«i effects of this honest man's preaching were so different from what usually attended the sermons of lea.rned, ingenious, and polite preachers, that the rea- der may probably wish to hear something of the mat- ter and method of his preaching, which cannot be giv- en bettei than in his own plain but emphatic language. ' In my preaching of the word, I took special notice of this one thing ; namely, that the Lord did lead me to begin where his word begins with sinners ; that is, to condemn all flesh, and to open and allege that the curse of God by the law doth belong to, and lay hold on all men as they come into the world, because of sin. Now this part of my work I fulfilled with great sense [of terror,! for the terrors of the law, and guilt for my transgressions, lay heavy on my conscience. k I went myself in chains, to preach to them in chains ; .and carried that fire in my own conscience that 1 per- suaded them to beware of. I can truly say, and that without dissembling, that when I have been to preach, I have gone full of guilt and terror, even to the pulpit door, and there it hath been taken off, and I have been at liberty in my mind until I have done my work ; and then immediately, even before I could get down the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I was before: yet God carried me on.: but surely with a strong hanoV for mither guilt nor hell could take me off my work, 1 Thus I went on for the space of two years. After which the Lord came in upon my own soul, with some sure peace and comfort through Christ ; for he did give me many sweet disco veries of his blessed grace through him. Wherefore now I altered in my preach* THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 21 ing (for still I preached what I saw and felt ;) now there- fore I did much labor to hold forth Jesus Christ in all offices, relations, and benefits unto the world, and did strive also to discover, to condemn, and remove those false supports and props on which the world doth both lean, and by them fall and perish. On these things ah so I staid as long as on the other. * After this, God led me into something of the mys- tery of the union of Christ : wherefore that I discover- ed, and showed to them also. And when I had travel- led through these three chief points of the word of God, about the space of five years or more, I was caught in my present practice and cast into prison ; where I have lain above as long again to confirm the truth by way of suffering, as I was before in testifying of it according to the scriptures, in a way of preaching. * When 1 have been preaching, 1 thank God, my heart nath often, all the time of this and the other exer- cise, with great earnestness cried to God that he iroiild make the word effectual to salvation : where- fore 1 did labor so to speak, as that thereby, if it were possible, the sin and person guilty might be particular- ized by it. 4 Also when I have done the exercise, it hath gone to my heart to think the word should now fall as rain on stony plates : still wishing, O that they who have heard me speak, did but see as I do, what sin, death, heli. and the curse of God is ! 2nd also what the grace, and love, and mercy of God is through Christ to men, in su h a case as they are, who are yet estranged from him ! and indeed 1M often say in my heart before the Lord, that if to be hanged up presently before their eyes, would be a means to awaken them, and confirm them in the truth, I gladly could be contented. 1 When I went first to preach the word abroad, the doctors and priests of the country did open wide a- gainst me : but I was persuaded of this, not to render railing for railing, but to see how many of their carnal professors I should convince of their miserable state by the law, and of the want and worth of Christ ; for. 22 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. thought I, u This shall answer for me in time to come, when they shall be for my hire before their face."* 1 I never cared to meddle with things that were con- troverted, and in dispute among the saints, and espe- cially things of the lowest nature ; yet it pleased me much to contend with great earnestness for the word of faith, and the remission of sins by the death and suf- ferirgs of Jesus ; but, I say, as to other things I should but let them alone, because I saw they engendered strife, and because that they, neither in doing, nor in' leaving undone, did commend us to God to be his. Besides, I saw my work before me did run into another channel, even to carry an awakening word; to that therefore I did adhere. 1 If any of those who were awakened by my minis- try, did after that fail back (as too many did) I can tru- ly say, their loss hath been more to me, than if my own child had been going to its grave. My heart hath been so wrapped up in the glory oi this excellent work, that I counted myself more blessed and honored of God by this, than if he had made me emperor of the Chris- tian world, or the lord of all the glory of the earth with- out it 1 Oh, these words ! u He that converteth a sin- ner from the error of his way, doth save a soul from death."t They that be wise shall shine as the bright- ness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever."| These, I say, with many others of a like nature, have been great refreshments to me. * My great desi •* ,, in my fulfilling my ministry, was to get into the darkest places of the country : yet not because I could not endure the light (for I feared not to show my gospel to any) but because I found my spi- rit leaned most after awakening and converting work, and the word that I carried did lean itself most that way also : .' Yea, so have 1 strived to preach the gospel, not where Christ was named, lest 1 should build upon another man's foundation. "§ ' But in this work, as in all others, I had my tempta- tions attending me ; and that of divers kinds : as some- » Gen. xxv 23. {James v. 20. J Dan. xii. 3. § Rom xv. 20. - THE LIJE OF JOI1X BUN VAX. 33 times I should be assaulted with great discouragement therein ; feaiing that I should not be able to speak a world at all to edification ; nay, that I should not be able to speak sense unto the people ; at n hich times I should have such a strange faintness and strengthless- ness seize upon my body, that my legs have scarce been able to carry me to the place of exercise. * Sometimes, again, when 1 have been preaching, I , have been violently assaulted with thoughts of blasphe- my, and strongly tempted to speak the words with my mouth before the congregation. I have also, at times, even when I have begun to speak the word with much clearness, evidence, and liberty of speech, yet been, be- fore the ending of that opportunity, so blinded, and so estranged from the things I hare been speaking, and have been also straitened in my speech, as to utterance before the people, that I have been as if I had not known or remembered what I have been about ; or as if my head had been in a bag all the time of my exercise. 4 Again, when at some times I have been about to preach upon a smart and searching portion of the word, I have found the tempter suggest, What ! will you preach this ? This condemns yourself ; wherefore preach not of it at all ; or if you do, yet so mince it as to make way for your own escape ; lest, instead of a- wakening others, you lay that guilt upon your own soul as you will never get from under." But I thank the Lord, I have been kept from consenting to these so hor- rid suggestions ; and have rather, as Sampson, bowed myself with all my might, to condemn sin and trans- gression wherever I found it. ' I have also, while found in this blessed work of Christ, been often tempted to pride and lifting up of my heart ; and though 1 dare not say I have not been affected with this, yet truly the Lord, of his precious mercy, hath so can hd it towards me, that for the most part I have had but small joy to give way to such a thing ; for it hath been ii\y every day's portion, to be let into the evils of my own heart, and still made to see Such a multitude of corruptions and infirmities therein, that it hath caused hanging down of the head, under all my gifts and attainments.' * Mr. Bunyan's imprisonment has been already men- 24 THE LIFE OF JOHff BUNVA.N. tioned. He was tried at Bedford quarter sessions in 1 660; and the indictment stated that 'John Bunyan, of the town of Bedford, labourer, had devilishly and fiernicious- !y abstained from coming to church to hear divine ser- vice, and was a common upholder of several unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great disturbance and distraction of the good subjects of this kingdom, con- trary to the laws of our sovereign, lord and king, See. Not to animadvert upon the ridiculous language of this indictment (too much of the same unmeaning jargon being still preserved) the facts were not legally proved; no witnesses were produced against him, but some part of his own examination was taken for a confession, and recorded ; and he was sentenced to perpetual banish- ment, for persisting to preach and refusing to conform. The sentence itself was never executed ; but he was very illegally detained a prisoner for twelve years and an half in Bedford jail. In the early part of his imprisonment, the Lord gave him favor with the keeper of the jail, and he had many indulgences, which the malice of his enemies af- er wards restrained from him. There were confined in the same prison about sixty other dissenters, taken at a meeting at Kaistoe in Bed- fordshire, among whom were two eminent preachers, Mr. Wheeler, and Mr. Dunn. During his confinement he employed his pen, partly in writing his Pilgrim's Progress, and other valuable tracts ; partly in preach- ing to his fellow prisoners, and others who came to hear him ; and partly in making tagged laces for the sup- port of himself and family, an art acquired after he was in confinement. As this must have been a trying season, it may be worth o^r inquiry, in what manner his mind was sup- ported and carried through it, which shall be given al- so chiefly in his own words, written (as it should seem} while he was yet in prison. 1 I never had in all my life so great an inlet into the word of God as now. Those scriptures that I saw no- thing in before, are made in this place and state to shine upon me. So that sometin * s, when I have been in the savour of them, I have been able " to laugh at destruc- THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 2$ tion, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider." I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another world. **» O the mount Sion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the in- numerable company of angels, and God the judge of all, and the spirits of just men made perfect/' and Je- sus, have been sweet unto me in this place ! I have seen that here, that I am persuaded I shall never, whHe in this world be able to express. I have seen a truth in this scripture, " Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now you see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."* For more than a year before his imprisonment, he had strong forebodings of this event, and even to a more fatal issue, for he feared his sufferings might terminate in the gibbet, and he was at this much harassed. with the apprehension that in such circumstances he might be left to himself, to encounter the temptations of the enemy ; and not only suffer distress himself, but disho- nor also the cause of God : in this expectation he was led to apply * to the strong for strength,' and it was part of his daily petition that he might be ' strengthen- ed with all might according to his glorious power, unto all patience and long sufFering with joyfulness.'f That scripture was also of great use to him, ' We had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we might not trust in ourselves, but in God that raiseth the dead.'J — l By this scripture (says he) I was made to see, that if ever I would suffer rightly, I must first pass a sentence of dearth upon every thing properly of this life ; even to reckon myself, my wife, my children, my health, my enjoyments, and all, as dead to me, and myself as dead to them.' Another consideration of great weight upon his mind was, how to support himself without fainting, under ap- proaching trials, of which he could not see the issve ; and he rightly judged, there was no method like that re- commended by St. Paul to * look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen : for the things that are seen are temporal ; but the things that •lPct. i. 8. f Col. i. Hi t2Cor. i. 9. C k 26 THE LIFE OF JOHN* BFNYAN* are not seen are eternal! and thus our author reasoned with himself: 1 If I provide only for a prison, then the whip comes at unawares ; and so doth also the pillory. Again, if I only provide for these, then I am not fit for banishment. Further, if I conclude that banishment is the worst, then if death come, I am surprised. So that 1 see the best way to go through suffering, is to trust in God through Christ, as touching the world to come : and, as touching this world, to count the grave my house, to make my bed in darkness, and to say to corruption " Thou art my father," and to the worm, " Thou art my mother and sister ;" that is, to familiarize these things to me. But notwithstanding these helps, I found myself a man encompassed with infirmities. The parting with my wife and poor children hath often been to me in this place, as the pulling my flesh from my bones ; and that not only'because I am somewhat too fond of these great mercies, but also because I should have often brought to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants, that my poor family were like to meet with, especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer my heait than all I had beside. Oh! the thoughts of the hardships I thought my blind one might undergo, would break my heart to pieces. But yet recalling myself, thought I, I must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the quick to leave you. But that which helped me in this temp- tation, was, "Leave thy fatherless children, I will pre- serve them alive ; and let thy widows trust in me :" and again, u The Lord said, Verily it shall go well with thy remnant ; verily I will cause the enemy to entreat thee well in the time of evil, &c."* 4 I had also this consideration, that if I should now venture all for God, I engaged God to take care of my concernments; but if I forsook him in his ways, for fear of any trouble that should come to me or mine, then I should not only falsify my profession, but should ocunt also that my concernments were not so sure, if left at God's feet, whilst I stood to and for his name, as they wojld be, if they were under my own care, though • Jer, xlix. 11- THB LIFE OF JOHN BUtfTAN. 27 with the denial of the way of God. This was a smart- ing consideration, and as spurs to my flesh. * I had also the dread of the torments of hell, which I was sure they must partake of, that, for fear of the cross, do shrink from their profession of Christ, his words and laws, before the sons of men. I thought al- so of the glory that he had prepared for those that in faith and love, and patience, stood to his ways before them. These things I say, have helped me when the thoughts of the misery that both myself and mine might, for the sake of my profession, be exposed to, hath lain pinching on my mind. 1 When I have indeed conceited, that I might be ban- ished for my profession, then I have thought of that scripture, " They were stoned, they were sawn asund- er, were tempted, were slain with the sword : they wandered about in sheep skins, and goat skins, beipg destitute, afflicted, tormented, of whom the world was not worthy :"• for all they thought they were too bad to dwell, and abide amongst them. I have sometimes reasoned about the sore and sad estate of a banished and exiled condition, how such are exposed to hunger, to cold, to perils, to nakedness, to enemies, and a thou- sand calamities, and at last, it may be to die in a ditch, like a poor forlorn and desolate sheep. But I thank God, hitherto I have not been moved by these most delicate reasonings, but have rather by them more ap- proved my heart to God.' It seems wonderful, indeed, that such a man should have been suffered to languish so long, and so unjustly, in a prison, and that with little effort for his enlargement. His wife indeed once applied to the judges at the assizes on his behalf, but was opposed by the magistrates, who did all in their power to prejudice the judges against him. The great and good Sir Matthew Hale, who was present, appeared desirous of relieving him, if the mat- ter had been brought judicially before- him, and for this end advised his wife to procure a writ of error ; but whether they were too poor and friendless to do this, or whether they were ignorant how to proceed, or intimi- dated by the power of their enemies, or the iniquity o\ • Heb. si 28 THB LIFE OF JOHN BUNTAN. the times, no steps appear to have been taken of this nature. At length Bishofi Barlow and some other churchmen, rather, as should seem, from motives of compassion than of equity, interested themselves on his behalf, and procured his enlargement : after which he travelled, in various parts of the kingdom, visiting and encouraging the brethren, insomuch that he was called Bishofi Bunyan ; and the reader will doubtless agree with me, that he better merited the title than those downy prelates who suffered him to languish twelve years in a jail, for preaching that gospel which they ought to have preached themselves. In the following reign, when king James II. declar- ed fov liberty of conscience, Bunyan was enabled, by the voluntary contributions of his hearers, to build a meet- inghouse, where he preached to large congregations, as he did also when he visited the metropolis, where he was sometimes honored with the attendance and /decided approbation, of the great Dr. Owen. And so popular was he, that if but one day's notice was given, the meeting-house in Southwark, where he generally preached, would not hold half the people who attended. Three thousand have been gathered together for this purpose in a remote part of the town ; and not less than twelve hundred at seven o'clock on a dark winter's morning, even in the week days, Amidst all this popularity he was kept humble and modest in his conversation, and exemplary in his beha- viour. Slanders, indeed, were invented by his enemies, but soon died away ; and his biographers are all agreed, that in the latterfpart of his life, from his conversion, his * moral character was unexceptionable.'* His valuable life, worn out with labor, and with suf- fering, closed at the age of threescore, with a memora- ble act of Christian charity. His conduct in his own neighborhood had procured him the blessed character of n/u ace maker : he was therefore sent to, while on a visit to London, by a young gentleman at Bedford, to mediate with his offended father, who lived at Reading in Berkshire. He succeeded ; but on his return to the .metropolis, being overtaken with excessive rains, came * Biog. Brit. THE LIFE OF JOHN BtWYAN. 29 very wet to his friend's (Mr. Straddock, grocer,) at the Star on Snow-hill, which produced a fatal fever. He bore this, as he had done his other sufferings, with great patience and resignation to the will of God, in submis- sion to which, however, he i desired to depart and be with Christ.' In this frame of spirit he lay about ten days, when hecrossedthe mystical Jordan, August SI, 1668, following his Christian Pilgrim to the celestial city. He was buried in a vault belonging to a friend in the Dissenters' burial-place, adjoining the Artillery Ground, Moorfields — since Bun-hill fields, traditional- ly supposed to have been so called from his having been one of the first buried there. Mr. Bunyan was twice married. By his first wife, Elizabeth, he had four children, one of whom, named Mary, was blind, and died before him. He married his second wife about 1658, and she survived him only about four years, dying in 1692. It does not appear that she had any children. Nor have we any further account of his children by his former wife, so that he appears in history, as an il- lustrious pen expresses it, ' an insolated individual/ without progenitors, and without descendants. As to his person and temper, his character is thus delineated by a continuator of his life : ' He appeared in countenance to be of a stern and rough temper ; but in his conversation mild and affable, not given to much discourse in company unless some urgent occasion re- quired it ; observing never to boast of himself, or his parts, but rather submit himself to the judgment of others ; abhorring lying and swearing, being just in all that lay in his power to his word ; not seeming to re- venge injuries, loving to reconcile differences, and make friendship with all. He had a sharp quick eye, accompanied with an excellent discerning of persons,be- ingofgood judgment and quick wit. Asforhis person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, though not corpu- lent, somewhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes, wearing his hair upon his upper lip after the old Brit- ish fashion : his hair reddish, but in his latter days, time had sprinkled it with grey ; his nose well set, but C 2 30 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNTAff* not declining or bending, and his mouth moderate large, his forehead something high, and his habit al- ways plain and modest.' His works iorm two large volumes in folio, and con- tain, according to Mr. Grainger,* as many tracts as he had lived years : a great part of them were probably the substance of his pulpit discourses, which he used commonly to commit to writing, not beford, but after he had preached them. »Biog. Hist,»fEi>g- ■hie AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. WHEN at the first I took my pen in band. 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 thus 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 doth fly. Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad in/ijiitum, and eat out The book that I already am about. Well, so I did; but yet I did not think To show 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 neighbor ; no, not I, I did it mine own self to gratify. Neither did I but vacant seasons spend In this my scribble ; nor did I intend But to divert myself in doing this, From worse; thoughts, which made 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 penn'd It down, until at last it came to be, Foi length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well, whe/i I had put my ends together, I shew'd them others, tftat I might see whether 32 Tbey would condemn ihem, or them justify : And some said, Let him live ; some, let him die j Some said, John, print it ; others said, Not so. Some said, It might do good ; others said, No. Now I was 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. 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 farther 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 farther see. If that you would not read, let it alone : Some love the meat, some love to pick a bone. Yea, that I might them better moderate, I did too with them thus expostulate : 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 their fruit None can distinguish this from t^at ; 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, THE AUTHOR'S APOLOOr. 33 Nor snares, nor net, nor engine can make thine : They must be grop'd 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 ? AH which one cannot name : His gun, 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 ofthese W ill 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 on 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, thereto look That they may find it ! Now my little book (Tho' void of all these paintings that they make It with this or the other man to take) Is not without these things that do exceL What do in brave, but empty notions dwell. 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 1 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 soiidness : Speak, man, thy mind : They drown the weak ; metaphors makers blind. Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to men : But must I needs want soiidness, because By metaphors I speak ? Were not God's laws, His gospel laws, in older times held forth By shadows, types, and metaphors ? Yet loth Will any sober man be to find fault With them, lest he be found for to sssault 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 Iambs, 34 God speaketh to him ; and full happy he That 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 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 T i set forth truth ; yea, who so considers Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see, That truths to this day in such mantles be. I am afraid to say that Holy Writ, Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit, Is every where 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. Come, let my carper to his life now look, And find there darker lines than in my Bools H : 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 swadSing clouts, 1 find, Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind ; Pleases the understanding, makes the will Submit, the memory also it doth fill With 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 did forbid The use of parables ; in which lay hid That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were Worth digging for and that with greatest care. THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 35 Let me add one word more : O man of God, Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress ? Or, that I had in things been more express ? To those that are my betters, as is fit, Three things let me propound, then I submit : 1 . I find not that I am denied the -use Of this method, so I do not abuse Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude In handling figure or similitude, In application ; but all that I may Seek the advance of truth this or that way. Denied, did I say ? Nay, I have leave (Examples too, and that from them that have Gon better pleased, by their words or ways, Than any man that breathes now in our days) Thus to express my mind, thus to declare Things unto thee that excellentest are. 2. I find that men (as high as trees) will write Dialogue ways ; yet no man doth them slight For writing so : indeed, if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use To that intent ; but yet let truth be free To make her sallies upon thee and me, Which way it pleases God ; for who knowsJiow, Better than he who taught us first to plow, To guide our minds and pens for his design ? And he makes base things usher in divine. 3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places, Hath semblance with this method, where the cases Do call for one thing to set forth another : Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother Truth's golden beams ; nay, by this method may Make it cast forth its rays as light as day. And now, before I do put up my pen, I'll shew the profit of my book, and then Commit botrf thee and it into that hand, f^stand. That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes The man that seeks the everlasting prize : It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes ; 36 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGT. What he leaves undone, also what he does ; It shews you how he runs and runs Till he unto the gate of glory comes. It shews, too, who set out for life amain, As if the lasting crown they would obtain : Here also you may see the reason why They lose their labor and like fools do die. This book will make a traveller 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 slothful active be ; The blind also delightful things to see. Art thou for something rare and profitable ? Or wouldst thou see a truth without a fable ? Art thou forgetful ? Or wouldst thou remember From new-year's day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies ; they will stick like burs 4 And may be to the helpless, comforters. This book is wrote in such a dialect, As may the minds of listless men affect : It seems a novelty, and yet contains Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains. Wouldst thou divert thy self from melancholy ? Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? Wouldst thou read riddles, and their explanation ? Or else be drowned in my contemplation 1 Dost thou love picking meat ? or wouldst thou see A man i' th' clouds, and hear him speak to thee ? Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep ? Or, wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep ? Or, wouldst thou lose thyself, and catch no harm ; And find thyself again without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know'st not what. And yet know whether thou art bless'd or not, By reading the same lines ? O then come hither Aid lay mv book, thy head, an J heart, together. JOHN BUNYAN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. PART !. WHEREIN IS DISCOVERED, i. THE MANNER OF HIS SETTING OUT. II. HIS DANGEROUS JOURNEY, AND II r. HIS SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. AS I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep ; and as I slept I dreamed a dream. I dreamed ; and, behold, 'Isawa man clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.'* I looked, and saw him open* the book and read therein ; and as he read, he wept, and trem- bled ; and, not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying " What shall I do ?"f In this plight therefore he went home, and refrained himself as long as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress ; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble increased : where- fore at length he brake his mind to his wife and children; and thus he began to talk to them : ' O my dear wife,' said he, ' and you the children of my bowels, I your dear friend am in myself undone by reason of a burden that Heth hard upon me : moreover, I am certainly inform- ed that this our city will * be burned with fire from hea- ven : in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall miserably <*ome to ruin, except (th e which yet I see not) some way of escape may be found, whereby we may be delivered.' At this his relations were sore amazed ; not for that * Isa. lxiv. 6. Lake xiv 33. Psal. xxxviii. 4- Heb, it, » Actsxvi- 31. t Acts ii. 37* D 38 the pilgrim's progress. they believed that what he had said to them was true, but because they thought some frenzy distemper had got into his head ; therefore, it drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all haste they got him to bed : but the night was as trouble- some to him as the day ; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears. So when the morning was come they would know how he did : he told them, 4 Worse and worse* He also set to talking to them again, but they began to be hardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriage to him : sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself to his cham- ber to pray for and pity them ; and also to condole his own misery. He would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying ; and thus for some days he spent his time. Now I saw, upon a time when he was walking in the fields, that he was (as he was wont) reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind ; and as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, " What shall I do to be saved ?"* I saw also that he looked this way and that way as if he would run ; yet he stood still, because (as I perceiv- ed) he could not tell which way to go. 1 looked then, and saw a man nr»med Evangelist coming to him ; and he asked, " W T herefore dost thou cry ?" He answered. Sir, I perceive by the book in my hand that I am condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the seco.id.f Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with so many evils ? The man an- swered, Because that I fear that this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tofihtt.\ And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit to go to judgment, and from thence to exe- cution : and the thoughts of these things make me cry. Then said Evangelist, if this be thy condition, why t Acts xvi 30, 31. f Heb. ix 27. Job xvi. 21, 22, Ezek. xxii. 14. \ Isa. xxx. 33. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 39 standest thou still 1 He answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll ; and there was written withfn, " Flee from the wrath to come."* The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evan- gelist very carefully, said, >v hither must I flee ? Then said Evangelist, pointing -with his finger over a very wide field, Do you see yonder Wicket- gate i\ The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shi- ning lights He said, I think I do. Then said Evange- list, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate ; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now he had not run far from his own door, but his wife and children (perceiving it) began to cry after him to re- turn ;§ but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, - Life ! life ! eternal life !' So he looked not behind him,U but fled towards the middle of the plain. The neighbors also came out to see him run : and, as he ran, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return ; and amon^ those that did so there were two that were resolved to fetch him back by force. The name of one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now by this time the man was got a good distance from them ; but however they were resolved to pursue him ; which they did, and in a little time they overtook him. Then said the man, Neighbors, wherefore are ye come ?|They said, To persuade you to go back with us; but he said, That can by no means be; you dwell, said he, in the city of Destruction; the place also where I was born. I see it to be so; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave into a place that burns with fire and brimstone : be content, good neighbors, and go along with me. What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us ! Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name) because that all which you shall forsake is not worthy to be com- * Matt. iii. 7. t Matt. vii. 13, 14. \ Psal cxix. 105. 2 Pet. i. 19, § Luke xiv. 26. y Geu. xix. 17. 2 Cor. ir, IS. 40 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. pared with a little of that that I am seeking to enjoy ; and if you will go along with me, and hold it, you shall fare as 1 myself; for there where I go is enough and to spare :* come away and prove my words. Obst. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them ? Chr. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and " that fadeth not away ; and it is laid up in heav- en,"t and sale there, to be bestowed at the time ap- pointed on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my book. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your book : will you go back with us or no ? No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough.J Ob&t. Come, then, neighbor Pliable, let us turn again and go home without him : there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that render a reason. Then said Pliable, Don't revile ; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks after are bet- ter than ours ; my heart inclines to go with my neigh- bor. Obst. What ! more fool still ? be ruled by me, and go back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you ? Go back, go back, be wise. Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbor Plia- ble ; there are such things to be had which 1 spake of, and many more glories besides : if you believe not me, read here in this book ; and, for the truth of what is ex- pressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of him that made it § Well, neighbor Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to come to a point : I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him : but my good com- panion, do you know the way to this desired place ? Chr. 1 am directed by a man, whose name is Evan- gelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about the way. * Luke xv. 17. f 1 Pet. !. 4—6- Heb. xi. 6, 16. J Luke U. 62. \ Heb. is. 17—22. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 41 Pli Come, then, good neighbor, let us be going. Then they both went together. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate : I will be no companion of such misled fantastical fellows. Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the plain : and thus they began their discourse : Chr. Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do ? I am glad you are persuaded to go along with me ; had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the pow- ers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back. Pli. Come, neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two here, tell me now further, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. Chr. I can better conceive of them with my mind than speak of them with my tongue : but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my book. , Pli. And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true ? Chr. Yes, verily, for it was made by him that cannot lie.* Pli. Well said ; what things are they ? Chr. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us that we may inhabit that kingdom for ever.f Pli. Well said, what else ? Chr. There are crowns of glory to be given us ; and garments that will make us shine like the sun in the fir- mament of heaven.4 Pli. This is very pleasant ; and what else ? Chr. There shall be no more crying nor sorrow ; for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes.§ Pli. And what company shall we have there ? Chr. There we shall be with seraphims and chem- bims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them.ll There also you shall meet with thousands and ten thousands that have gone before us to that place : *Tit. i. 2. flsa. xlv. 17. John x. 27— 29. \ 2 Tim. 4 8" Rev. xxii. 6. Matt. xiii. 43. $ Isa. xxv. 8* Rev. vii. 16, 17. xxi. 4. || Isa. vi. 2. 1 Thes iv. 1% 17* D 2 42 the pilgrim's progress. none of them are hurtful, but loving and holy ; every one talking in the sight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns,* there we shall see holy virgins with their golden harps ;f there we shall see men that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames, eaten ot beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, as well, and clothed with immortality as with a garment.} Plu The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart : but are these things to be enjoyed ? how shall We get to be sharers thereof? Chr. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath recorded that in this book, the substance of which is, if we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely. J Pli. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things : come on, let us mend our pace. Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is on my back. Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they drew nigh to a very miry slough that Was in the midst of the plain, and they being heedless did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the slough was Despond. Here therefore they wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with dirt ; and Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the mire. Then said Pliable, Ah I neighbor Christian, where are you now ? Truly, said Christian, I do not know. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have such ill speed at our first set- ting out, what may we expect betwixt this and our jour- ney's end ? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone for roe* And with that he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next his own *Rev.iv.4. fRev.xiv 1— 5. J Johnxii.25. 2Cor. v. 2— 4 ( ha, te\ i_3, John ?i. 37. vii. 37. Rev. mi. 6. xxii. 17. THE PILGRIM^ PROGRESS. 43 house : so away he went, and Christian saw^iim no more. Wherefore Christian was left totumhle in the slough of Despond alone; but still he endeavored to struggle to that side of the slough which was farthest from his own house, and next to the Wicket-gate : the which he did, but could not get out because of the burden that was upon his back. But I behekl, in my dream, that a man oame to him, whose name was Help, and asked him, What he did there ? Sir, said Christian, I was bid to go this way by a man called Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the wr?th to come ; and as 1 was going thither I fell in here. Helfi. But why did you not look for the steps ? Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and so fell in. Helfi. Then said he, Give me thine hand : so he gave him his hand, and he drew him out and set him upon Sound ground, and bid him goon his way.* Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, Sir, wherefore, ^ince over this place is the way from the city of Destruction to yonder gate, is it that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers mit.* t go thither with more security ? And he said unlo me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended : it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends con- viction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it was called the slough of Despond : for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there arise in his soul many fears and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place : And this is the reason of the badness of the ground. It is not the pleasure of the king that this place should remain so bad,f his labourers also have, by the direction of his majesty's surveyors, been for above these sixteen hundred years employed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended; yea, and to rny knowledge, said he, here have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand cart-loads ; yea, millions of whole- *Psal.xl.2. flsa. xxxv. 3. 44 some injunctions, that have at all seasons been brought from all places of the king's dominions (and they that can tell, say, they are the best materials to make good the ground of the place) if so be it might have been mended : but it is the slough of Despond still ; and so will be, when they have done what they can. True there are, by the direction of the law-giver, cer- tain good and substantial steps placed even through the very midst of this slough ; but at such times as this place does much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of leather, these steps are hardly seen ; or if they be, men through the dizziness of their heads step beside; and then they are bemired to purpose, notwith- standing the steps be there : but the ground is good when they are once got to the gate.* Now I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his house. So his neighbors came to visit him ; and some of them called him wise man for coming back ; and some called him fool for hazarding himself with Christian : others again did mock at his cowardliness, saying, " Surely, since you began to ven- ture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficulties :" so Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more confidence ; and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. Now as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, he spied one afar off crossing over the field to meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way to each other. The gentleman's name that met him, was Mr. Worldly -wiseman ; he dwelt in the town of Carnal-policy ; a very great town, and also hard by from whence Christian came. This man, then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling of him (for Chris- tian's setting forth from the city of Destruction was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but also it began to be the town-talk in some other places) Mr. Worldly- wiseman, therefore, having some guess of him by beholding his laborious going, by * 1 Sam. xii. 22. 45 observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with Christian : World. How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened manner ? Chr. A burdened manner indeed, as ever, I think, poor creature had ! And whereas you asked me whither away ? I tell you Sir, I am going to yonder wicket-gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put in a way to be rid of my heavy burden. World. Hast thou. a wife and children ? Chr. Yes-, but I am so laden witli this burden, that I cannot take the pleasure in them as formerly : me- thinks I am as if I had none.* World, Wilt thou hearken to me if I give thee coun- sel ? Chr. If it be goody I will hear it; for Ijstand in need of good counsej. World. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself rid of thy burden : for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then, nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessings which God hath bestowed upon thee till then. Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden ; but get it off myself I cannot ; nor is there any man in our countiy that can take it off my shoulders : therefore am I going this way, as I told you, that I may be rid of my burden. World. Who bid you go this way to be rid of your burden ? Chr. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honorable person ; his name, as I remember, is E- vangelist. World. Beshrew him for his counsel ; there is not a more dangerous and troublesome way in the world than is that unto which he hath directed thee ; and that thou shalt find if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met with something, as I perceive, already ; fcr I see the dirt of the slough of Despond is upon thee ; but that slough is the beginning of the sorrows that do at- tend those that go on in that way. Hear me ; I am ol- der than thou ; thou art like to meet with, on that way * 1 Cor. vii. 29. 46 which thou goest, weaiisomeness, painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, swords, lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what nol! These things are cer- tainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself by giving heed to a s' : ranger I Chr. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things which you have mentioned : nay, methinks I care not what I meet with in my way, if bo be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden. World. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? Chr. By reading thib book in my hand. World. I thought so ; and it has happened unto thee as to other weak men, who, meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into thy distractions ; which distractions do not only unman men (as thine I perceive have done thee) but they run them upon desperate adventures to obtain they know not what. Chr. I know what I would obtain : it is ease from my heavy burden. World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers attend it ? Especially, since, hadsl thou but patience to hear me, I could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the dan- gers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into. Yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides, 1 will add, that in- stead of these dangers thou shalt meet with much safe- ty, friendship, and content. Chr. Sir, pray open this secret to me. World. Why, in yonder village (the village is named Morality) there dwells a gentleman, whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a man of very good name, that has skill to help men oFf with such burdens as thine is from their shoulders; yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way : aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place ; and if he should not be at home himself, he bath a pretty young man for his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well ns the old gentleman himself. THE PILGRIM^ PROGRESS. 47 There, I say, thou may est be eased of thy burden : and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habita- tion, as indeed I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wile and children to thee to this village; where there are houses now standing empty, one of whit h thou mayest have at reasonable rates : provision is there al- so cheap and good : and that which will make thy life more happy is, to be sure there thou shalt live by hon- est neighbors, in credit and good fashion. Now Christian was somewhat at a stand ; but pre- sently he concluded, If this be true what this gentle- man hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice ; and with that he thus further spake. Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's house ? World. Do you see yonder high hill ? Chr. Yes, very well. World. By that hill you must go, and the first house you come at is his. So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Le- gality's house for help. But, behold, when he was got hard by the hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was next to the way- side did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid to venture further, lest the hill should fall on his head : wherefore there he stood still, and wotted not what to do. Also his burden now seem- ed heavier to him than while he was in his way. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned :* here there- fore he sweat and did quake for fear. And now he be- gan to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly-wise- man's counsel. And with that he saw Evangelist com- ing to meet him ; at the sight also of whom he began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer ; and, coming up to him, he looked upon him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with Christian. What dost thou *here, Christian ? said he. At which words Christian knew not what to answer ; wherefore at present he stood speechless before him. Then said * Kxod. six. 16—18. Heb. xii. 21. 48 the pilgrim's progress. Evangelist further, Art thou not the man that I found crying without the walls of the city of Destruction ? Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket-gate ? Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. Evan. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside ? for thou art now out of the way. Chr. I met with a gentleman as soon as I had got over the slough of Despond, who persuaded me that I might in the village before me find a man that could ake off my burden. Evan. What was he ? Chr. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me at last to yield ; so I came hither : but when I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over the way, I suddenly madca stand, lest it should fall on my head. Evan. What said that gentleman to you ? Chr. He asked me if I had a family : and I told him. But, said I, I am so loaded with the burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them as for- merly. Evan. And what said he then ? Chr. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden ; and I told him that it was ease that I sought. And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate to receive fur- ther instruction how I may get to the place of deliver- ance. So he said that he would show me a better way, and shorter, not so attended with difficulties as the way, Sir, that you set me in ; which way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house, that has skill to take off these burdens : so I believed him, and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, and beh< Id things as they are, I stopped for fear, as I said, of dan- ger : but now know not what to do. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little that I may show thee the works of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, "See that ye refuse not him that speaketh : for if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we THK PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 49 turn away from him that speaketh from heaven."* He said, moreover*. M Now the just shall live by faith ; but if any man * draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure inhim."t He also did thus apply them : Thou art the man that art running into this misery : thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace : even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition. Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying, c< Wo is me, for I am undone 1" At the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, " All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men :" " be not faithless, but believing." Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up trembling, as at first, before Evangelist. Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earn- est heed to the things that I -hall tell thee of. I will now shew thee who it was that deluded thee, and who it was also "to whom he sent thee. The man that met thee is one Worldly-wiseman, and rightly is he so call- ed ; partly because he savoureth only the doctrine of this worlds (therefore he always goes to the town of Mo*- rality to church,) and partly because he loveth that doc- trine best, for it saveth him best from the cross :) and because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seek- eth to pervert my ways, though right. Now there are three things in this man's counsel that thou must utterly abhor ; — his turning thee out of the way ; — his laboring to render the cross odious to thee ; — and his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the ministration of death. First, thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way, yea, and thine own consenting thereto ; because this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a vuerldly-wise man. The Lord says, " Strive to enter at the strait gate" (the gate to which I send thee) " for strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it."iJ From this little Wicket-gate, apd from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned * Heb. xii. 25. f Heb. x. 38. f John iv. 5. $ Gal. vi. 12. U Luke xiii. 24. Matt. vii. 13, 14. 50 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction. Hale, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him. Secondly, thou must abhor his laboring to render the cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to u prefer it be- fore the treasures in Egypt."* Besides, the King of Glory hath told thee, that " he that will save his life shall lose it :" and. He that comes after me, and hates not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and breth- ren, and sisters, yea, and his own life, also, cannot be my disciple."f I say, therefore, for a man to labor to persuade thee that that sh'aH be thy death, without which the Truth hath said thou canst not have eternal life ; this doctrine thou must abhor. Thirdly, thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth to the ministration of death. And for this thou must consider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden. He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is " the son of the bond-woman, which now is, and is in bondage with her children ;"\ and is, in a mys- tery, this mount Sinai which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now if she with her children are in bon- dage, how canst thou expect by them to be made free ? This Legality, therefore, is not able to set thee free from thy burden. No man was as yet ever rid of his burden by him ; no, nor ever is like to be. " Ye cannot be justified by the works of the law ; for by the deeds of the law no man living" can be rid of his burden : therefore Mr. Worldly-wiseman is a liar, and Mr. Le- gality a cheat : and for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise that thou hast heard ot these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, by turning thee from the way in which I had set thee. After this Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for confirmation of what he had said ; and with that there came words and fire out * Heb. xi. 25, 26. t Matt. x. 37—39. Mark viii. 34, 35 J-uke xi Y . 26, 27. Jobuxii. 25. t Gal, iv. 21— 27. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 61 of the mountain under which poor Christian stood, that made the hair of his flesh stand up. The words were thus pronounced : •' As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse : for it is written, Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them."* Now. Christian looked for nothing but death, and be- gan to cry out lamentably ; even cursing the time in which he met Mr. Woildly-wiseman ; still calling him- -self a thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel. He also was greatiy -ashamed to think that this gentleman's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with him as to cause him to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself again to E- vangelist in words and sense as follows : Sir, what think you ? Is there any hope ? May I now go back, and go up to the Wicket-gate ? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from thence ashamed ? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man's counsel j but may my sifi be forgiven ? Then said Evangelist to him, thy sin is very great, for by it thou hast committed two evils ; thou hast for- saken the way that is good, to tread in forbidden paths : yet will the man at the gate receive thee, foi he has good will for men ; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, lest thou perishjfrom the way when his wrath is kindled but a little. "t Then did Christian address himself to go back ; and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God speed. So he went on with haste, neither spake he to any man by the way ; nor if any asked him would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he left to follow Mr. Worldly-wiseman's counsel. So in process of time Christian got up to the gate. Now over the gate there was written, h- E 2 3*4 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, standing all that they have done before they come hith ' er. " They in no wise are cast out ;"* and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee ; dost thou see this narrow way ? that is the way thou must go. It was cast up by the patriarchs, proph- ets, Christ and his apostles, and it is as straight as a rule can make it : this is the way thou must go. But, said Christian, are there no turnings nor wind- ings, by which a stranger may lose his way ? Good. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked and wide : but thus thou must ■distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only be- ing straight and narrow.f Then I saw in my dream that Christian asked him further, if he could not help him off with the burden that was upon his back ; for as yet he had not got rid there- of, nor could he by any means get it off without help. Me told him, as to thy burden, be content to bear it until thou comest to the place of deliverance j for there it will fall from thy back of itself Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to ad- dress himself to his journey. So the other told him that by that he was gone some distance from the gate he would come at the house of the Interpreter, at whose door he should knock, and he would show him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his friend, and he again bid him God speed. Then Christian went on till he came to the house of the Interpreter, where he knocked over and over : at last one came to the door, and asked who was there ? Chr. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an ac- quaintance of the good man of this house to call here for my profit ; I would therefore speak with the mas- ter of the house. So he called for the master of the house, who after a little time came to Christian, and as- ked him what he would have I Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the city of Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion ; and I was told by the man that stands at the gaCe f Johnvi. 37. t Matt. vji. 13* 14'. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 55 at the head of this way, that if I called here you would show me excellent things, such a* would be a help to me in my journey. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will show thee that which will be profitable to thee. So he com- manded his man to light a candie, and bid Christian fol- low him : so he had him into a private room, and bid his man open a door ; the which when he had done, Chris- tian saw the picture of a very grave person hang up a- gainst the wall ; and this was the fashion of it : k it had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in its hand, the law of truth was written upon its lips, the world was behind its back ; it stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over its head ? Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? Inter/:. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand ; he can beget children,* travail in birth with children,! and nurse them himself when they are born. And whereas thou seest him with his eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of bcoks in his hand, and the law of truth written on his lips ; it is to show thee that his work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners ; even as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men : and whereas thou seest the world as cast behind him, and that a crown hangs over his head ; that is to show thee, that slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that he hath to his Master's ser-. vice, he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory for his reward. Now, said the Interpreter , I have shewed thee this picture first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going, hath authorised to be thy guide, in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way : wherefore take good heed to what I have shewed thee, and bear well in mind what thou hast seen; lest in thy journey thou meet Avith some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death. Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a ve- ry large parlour that w^s full of dust, because never swept ; the which, after he had reviewed a little whiter * 1 Cpr. tv. 1$ f Gal. iv. 19. 56 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now when lie began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly- about, that Christian had almost therewith been choak- ed. Then baid the Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, bridg hither water, and sprinkle the room ; the which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure. Then said Christian, What means tin's ? The Interpreter answered, ThL parlour is the heart of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the gospel : the dust i-> his original sin and inward conupuoiis that have defiled the whole man. He that began to swe p at hrst i$ the law : but she that brought water and ciid sprinkle it, is the goapel. Now whereas thou sawest that, so soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about, that the room by him could not be cleansed, but thut thou wast almost choaked there- with ; this is to shew thee, that the law, instead of clean- sing the heart by its working from sin, doth revive, put strength into, and increase it in the soul, even as it doth discover and forbid it ; for it doth not give power to subdue it.* Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure : this is to shew thee, that when the gospel comes in the sweet and precious influences thereof to the heart, then, I say, even as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the floor with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul made clean through the faith of it, and consequently fit for the King of glory to inhabit.! I saw, moreover, in my dream, that the Interpreter took him by the hand, and had him into a little room where sat two little children., each one in his chair : the name of the oldest was Passion, and the name of the oth- er Patience. Passion seemed to be much discontent- ed, but Patience was very quiet. Then Christian ask- ed, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion 2 The In erpreter answered, The governor of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of '*■ Rom. v. 20. vii. 7—11. 1 Cor. xv. 56. f John xiv. 21—23. xv. 3. Acts xv. 9. Rom. xvi. 25. 26. Epb, v. 26, the pilgrim's progress* 57 the next year ; but he will have all now. But Patience is willing to Wait- Then I saw that one came to Passion and brought him a bag of treasure, and poured it down at his feet: the which he took up and rejoiced therein, and withal laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing left him but rags. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to me. So he said, These two lads are figures : Passion, of the men of this world ; and Patience, of that which is to come. For as here thou seest Passion will have all now this year, that is to say, in this world, so are the men of this world : they must have all their good things now, they cannot stay till next year ; that is, until the next world, for their portion of good. That proverb, * A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush/ is of more authority with them than are all the divine testimonies of the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left him nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such men at the end of this world. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts : because he stays for the best things : and also because he will have the glory of his when the other has nothing but rags. Interfi. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world will never wear out : but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at Patience because he had his good things first, as Patience will have to laugh at Passion because he had his best things last ; for first must- give place to last, because last must have its time to come ; but last gives place to nothing, for there is not another to succeed : he, therefore, that hath his portion first must needs have a time to spend it ; but he that has his portion last must have it lastingly : therefore it is said otDives, " In thy life time thou receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things ; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented."* *Lukexvi. 19—31. 58 the pilgrim's progress. Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come. Interfi. You say truth : " For the things that are seen u I ; but the things that are not seen arc i ;"• but, though this be so, yet, since things present and our fleshly appetite are such near neighbors one to er ; and again, because things to come and carnal sense are such strangers one to another ; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fall into amity ^ and ince is so continually between the second. Then I saw in my dream that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand, and led him into a place where was a fire burning against the wall, and one standing by ways casting much water upon it to quench it : yet did the fire burn higher and hotter. Then said Christian, what means this ? The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought in the heart ; he that casts water upon it to extinguish and put it out, is the Devil : but in that thou sewt the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside of the wall, where be saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of which he did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire. Then said Christian, What means this ? The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who contin- ually with the oil of his grace maintains the work alrea- dy begun in the heart : by the means of which, notwith- standing what the devil can do, the souls of ins people prove gracious still.f And in that thou sawest that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire ; this is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted tef.see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul. I saw also that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately palace, beautiful to behold : at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted ; he saw also upon the top thereof certain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold. Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? * 2 Cor. iv. 18. f 2 Cor xii. 9. 69 Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up to- wards the door of the palace : and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a table side, with a book and his ink-horn before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein : he saw also that in the door way stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do to the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in a maze : at last when every man started back for fear of the arm- ed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying, ' Set down my name, Sir :' the which when he had done, he saw the man draw his sword, and put an helmet upon his head, and rush towards the door upon the arm- ed men, who laid upon him with deadly force ; but the man was not at all discouraged, but fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his way through them all, and pressed forward into the palace ; at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying, ' Come in, come in : • Eternal glory thou shait win.' So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as they. Then Christian smiled, and said, I think verily I know the meaning of this. Now said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till I have showed thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way. So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark loom, where there sat a man in an iron cage. Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad. He sat with his eyes looking down to the ground, his hands fol- ded together, and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then s?id Christian, What means this ? At which the Interpreter bid him talk with the man. 60 THE P1LGR1M*S PROGRESS. Then said Christian to the man, What art thou ? The man answered, I am what I was not once. Chr. What wert thou once ? The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing pro- fessor, both in my own eyes, and also in the eyes of oth- ers : I once was, as I thought, fair for the celestial ci- ty,* and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither. Chr. Well, but what art thou now ? Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it as in this iron cage. I cannot get out j O now I can- not. Chr. But how earnest thou in this condition ? Man. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the word, and the goodness of God : I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the Dev- il and he is come to me ; I have provoked. God to an- ger, and he has left me ; I have so hardened my heart, that I cannot repent. Then said Chaistian, to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the In- terpreter. Then said Christian, is there no hope but you must be kept in the iron cage of despair ? Man. No, none at all. Chr. Why? the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful. Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh ; I have despised his person, I have despised his righteousness, I have counted his blood an unholy thing. I have done despite to the Spirit of Grace ;f therefore I have shut myself out of all promises, and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, fear- ful threatenings, of certain judgment and fiery indigna- tion, which shall devour me as an adversary. Chr. For wjjiat did you bring yourself into this condi- tion ? Man. For the Justs, pleasures, and profits of this world; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise * Luke riii. 13. f Luke xix. 14. Heb. vi. 4—6. x. 28, 29. THE pilgrim's progress. 61 myself much delight : but now every one of those things also bite me and gnaw me like a burning worm. Chr. But canst thou not repent and turn ? Man. God hath denied me repentance. His word gives me no encouragement to believe : yea, himself hath shut me up in this iron cage : nor can all the men in the world let me out. O eternity ! eternity ! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity ! Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee. Well, said Christian, this is fearful ! God help me to watch and be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man's misery. Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now. Inter ft. Tarry, till I shall show thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way. So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber where there was one rising out of bed ; and as he put on his raiment he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This night as I was in my sleep I dreamed, and, behold the heavens grew exceeding black : also it thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony : so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate,upon which 1 heard a great sound ofa trum- pet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven : they were all in flaming fire, also the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, ' Arise ye dead, and come to judgment,' and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth :* some of them were exceeding glad, and lboked upwards : and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains :f the I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book and bid the * lohn v. 28, 29. 1 Cor. xv. 51— ^5C. 2 Thes. i. 7—10. Jude 14, 15. Rev, xx 11— 15. i Ps. I. 1—3. 22. Isai. xsvi. 20, 21. Mic. vii, !§, 17. tf2 \yorld draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came before him, a conven- ient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar.* I heard it also proclai- med to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, ' Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stub- ble, and cast them into the burning lake :' and with that the bottomless pit opened just whereabout I stood ; out of the mouth of which there came, in abundant manner, smoke, and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons, ' Gather my wheat into the garner.'f And with that I saw many catched up and carried a ^ay into the clouds,} but I was left behind. I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me : my sins also came in my mind, and my conscience did accuse me on every side. § Upon this I awaked from my sleep. C/ir. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight ? Man. Why I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was not ready for it ; but this frighten- ed me most, that the angels gathered up several and left me behind ; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My conscience too afflicted me : and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in his countenance. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou con- sidered all these things ? C/ir. Yes ; and they put me in hope and fear. Interfi. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee for- ward in the way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journ- ey. Then said the Interpreter, the Comforter be al- ways with thee, good Christian, to guide thee in the wav that leads to the city. So Christian went on his •Way, saying — * Dan. vii. 9, 10. Mai. iii. 2, 3. t Mai. iv. 1. Matt. hi. 12. xiii. 30. Lnkeiii. 17. J 1 The*, iv. 13-18. § Rom. i: 14, 15. 63 * Here I have seen things rare and profitable ; Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have bepua to take in hand : Then let me think on them, and understand Wherefore they show'd me where ; and let me be Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee.' Now I saw in my dream, that the highway, up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation.* Up this way therefore did burthened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back. He ran thus until he came to a place somewhat ascen- ding, ani upon that place stood a Cross, and a little be- low, in the bottom, a Sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his bur- den loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more. Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, " He hath given me rest by his sor- row, and life by his death." Then he stood still a- while to look and wonder ; for it was very surprising to him that the sight of the cross, should thus ease him of his burden. He looked, therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the wa- ters down his cheeks.f Now, as he stood looking and weeping, behold three shining ones came to him, and saluted him with " Peace be to thee :" so the first said to him, " Thy sins be forgiven thee ;*'$ the second stripped him of his rags, and clothed him with change of raiment ; the third also set a mark on his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it,§ which he bid him look on as he ran ; and that he should give it in at the celestial gate ; so they went their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing — * Thus far did I come laden with my sin, Nor could ought ease the grief ihat I was in, * Isa. xxvi. 1. f Zech. xii. 10. j Mark ii. 5, ?Zech. iii. 4. Epb. i. 13. 63 THB PILGRIM'S PROURLSt. -Till I came hither : what a place is this ! IVIust here be the beginning of ray bliss ? Must here the burden fall from o*f»'my back ? Must here the strings that bint* i t tome crack ? • Blest cross ! blest sepulchre ! blest rather be The man that there was put to sbaiae for me !' I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus even \intil he came at the bottom, where he saw, a little out ©f the way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, another Sloth, and the third Presumption. Christian then seeing them hying in this case went to them, ifperadventure he might awake them ; and cried, You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast,* for the dead sea is under you, a golph that hath no bottom : .-., therefore, and come away ; be willing, also, and I will help you off with your irons. He also told them, If he that goeth about like a roaring lion comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth. f With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort : Simple said, * I see no danger :' Sloth said, ' Yet a lit- tle more sleep :' and Presumption said, k Every tub must stand upon its own bottom. And so they laid down to sleep again, and Christian went en his way. Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so free- ly offered to help them, both by the awakening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off with their irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he spied two men come tumbling over the wall on the left-hand of the narrow way ; and they made up apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. Chr. Gentlemen, whence come you, and whither go vou Form. Zj? Hyfi. We were born in the land ot Vain- glory, and are going for praise to mount Zion. Chr Why came you not in at the gate which stand- eth at the beginning of the way ? Know you not that it is written that, " He that cometh not in by the door, Prov. xiii. 34. M Pet. v. 8. THE 1'IL'G RIM'S PROGRESS. €5 but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber V* They said, that to go to the gate for entrance was by all their countrymen counted too far about ; and that there- fore, their usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as they had done. Chr. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will ? They told him, that, as for that, he needeth not trouble his head thereabout ; for what they did, they had custom ; and could produce, if need were, testimony that would witness it for more than a thousand years. But said Christian, will vour practice stand trial at law ? They told him that custom, it being of so long standing as above a thousand years, would doubtless now be ad- mitted as a thing legal by an impartial judge : and be- tides, say they, if we get into the way, what's matter which way we get in ? If we are in, we are in : thou art but in the way : who, as we perceive, came in at the gate ; and we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall : wherein now is thy condition better than ou is ? Chr. I walk by the rule of my Master, you walk by the rude working of your fancies. You are counted thieves already by the Lord of the way> therefore I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You come in by yourselves without his direction, and shall go out by yourselves without his mercy. To this they made but little answer ; only they bid him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every man in his way, without much conference one with another ; save that these two men told Christian, that, as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but they should as conscientiously do them as he, therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us but by the coat that is on thy back, which was. as we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. * John x. T. F 2 <56 the pilgrim's progress. ^ Chr. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved,* since you came in not by the door. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the place whither 1 go : and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it a token of kindness to me; for I had nothing but rags before : and besides, thus I comfort myself as I go : Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord thereof will know me for good, since I have his coat on my back ! a coat that he gave me freely in the day that he stripped me of my rags. I have moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which, perhaps, you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. 1 will tell to you, moreover, that 1 had then given me a roll sealed, to comfort me by reading as I go on the way ; I was al- so bid to give it in at the celestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it : all which things I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the gate. To these things they gave him no answer ; only they looked upon each other and laughed. Then I saw that they went on all, save that Christian kept before, who had no more taik but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly and sometimes comfortably : also he would be often reading in the roll that one of the shining ones gave him, by which he was refreshed. I beheld then that they all went on till they came to the foot of the hill Difficulty ; at the bottom of which was a spring. There were also in the same place two other ways ; besides that which came straight from the gate ; one turned to the left hand and the other to the Tight, at the bottom of the hill ; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and the name of the going up the side ofthe hill is called Difficulty. Christian went now to the spring, and drank thereof to refresh himself, f and then began to go up the hill, saying— * The hill, though high, 1 covet to ascenxj, The difficulty will not me offend ; For I perceive the way to life lies here : *Gal. ii. Ifr. flsa. xlix. 10, THE PIUGRIM's PROGBESS. {>? Come, pluck up, heart, let's neither faint ncr fear. Better, though difficult, the right way to go, Tliau wroug, though etis^, where the eud is woe.' The other two also came to the foot of the hill ; but when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go; and supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill, therefore they were resolved to go into those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way which is called Danger, which did lead him in- to a great wood, and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wild field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more. I looked then after Christian to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place Now a- bout the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant arbour made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing of weaiy travellers ; thither, therefore, Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him ; then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his comfort ; he also now began afresh to take a review of the coat or garment that was given him as he stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself a while, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost pight ; and in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand. Now, as he was sleeping, there came one to him and awaked him, say- ing, " Go to the ant, thou sluggard ; consider her ways, and be wise."* And with that Christian suddenly star- ted up, and sped him on his way, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill. Now when he was got up to the top of the hill there came two men running to meet him amain ; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the other Mistrust : to * Prov. vi. 6. 63 the pilgrim's progress. whom Christian said, Sirs, what is the matter you run the wrong way r Timorous answered, that they were going to the city of Zion, and had got up that difficult place : but, said he, the further we go the more danger we meet with ; wherefore we turned, and are going back again. Yes, said Mistrust, Lr just before us lies a couple of lions in the way (whether sleeping or waking we know not) and we could not think, if we came within reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces. Then said Christian, you make me afraid : but whi- ther shall 1 flee to be safe ? If I go back to my own country, that is prepared for fire and brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there : if 1 can get to the celestial city, I am sure to be in safety there : — I must venture : — to go back is nothing but death ; to go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it : I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the bill, and Christian went on his way. But thinking agai; i what he had heard from the men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein and be comfort- ed ; but he felt and found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do ; for he wan- ted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass into the celestial city. Here there- fore he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side of the hill ; — and falling down upon his knees he asked God forgiveness for that foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart ? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish as to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find the roll that had been his comfort so many times in his journey. He went thus till he came again in sight of the a»'bor where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again even afresh, his evil of sleeping unto his naind. Thus the pilgrim's PR0GRE«3* 69 therefore he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, ** O wretched man that I am I" that I should sleep in the day time !* that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty ! that 1 should so .indulge the flesh, $s to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pil- grims ! How many steps have I took in vain ! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin they were sent back a- gain by the way of the Red Sea : and I am made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time ! I am jnade to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed to have trod but oi\c_e : yea, now also I am like to be benigh- ted, for the day is almost spent : — O that 1 had not slept! Now by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept ; but at last (as God would have it) looking sorrowfully down under the settle, there he spied his roll ; the which he with trem- bling and haste catched up and put in his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man was when he had got- ten his roll again ? For this roll was the assurance of his life, and acceptance at the desired haven. There- fore he laid it up in his bosom, gave God thanks for di- recting his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. But O how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! — Yet before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again began to con- dole with himself: ' O thou sinful sleep 1 how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my journey ! I must walk without the sun, darkness must cover the path of my feet, and I must hear the noise of doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep !' Now aJ*3 he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with th£ sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the night for their prey ; and if they should meetwhh mc in the dark, how should I shift them ? how should I * 1 Thes. v. 7, 8. Rev. ii. 4, 5. 70 escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on. But, while he was bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lifted up his eyes ; and, behold, there was a very stately palace before him, the name of which was Beau- tiful, and it stood by the highway side. So I saw in my dream that he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far he entered into a very nar- row passage, which was about a furlong off the ponei's lodge ; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he spied two lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the danger that Mistrust and Timorous were dri- ven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw r.ot the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also him- self to go back after them ; for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, percerving that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, l Is thy strength so small ?* Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for the discovery of those that have none : keep in the midst of the path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.' Then I saw that he went on trembling for fear of the lions ; but taking good heed to the directions of the porter, he heard them rear, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate where the porter was. Then said Christian to the porter, Sir, what house is this ? and, May I lodge here to night ? The porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The porter also asked whence he was ? and whither he was going ? Chr. I am come from the city ol Destruction, and am going to Mount r^ion ; hut, because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to ledge here to night. Por. What is your name ? Chr. My name is now Christian; but my name at the first was Graceless : I came of the race of Japheth,f whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of Shem ? * Mark- iv. 40. f Gen. ix. 27. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 7 I Pot. But how doth it happen that you come so late ? The sun is set. Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am ! 1 slept in tne arbor that stands on the hill side. Nay, I had, notwithstanding that, been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evidence, and came without it to the brow of the hill ; and then feeling for it, and finding it not, I was forced, with sorrow of heart, to go back to the place where 1 slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I am come. For. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will, if she like your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family, according to the rules o.i the house. So Watchful the porter rang a bell, at the sound of which came out at the door of the house, a grave and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and ask- ed why she was called ? The porter answered, This man is in a journey from the city of Destruction to Mount Zion ; but being wea- ry and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to- night : so I told him I would call for thee, who, after discourse had with him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even according to the law of the house. Then she asked him whence he was ? and whither lie was going ? and he told her. She asked him also how he got in the way ? and he told her. Then she asked him what he had seen and met with in the way ? and he told her. And at last she asked his name. So he said, It is Christian : and I have so much the more a desire to lodge here to night, because, by what I per- ceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of Pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes ; and after a little pause she said, I will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him into the family ; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the house said, * Come in, thou blessed of the Lord ;' * this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in.* Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was came in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together that, until supper was ready, some of them should have some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity, to discourse with him ; and thus they began. Pi. Come, good Christian, since we have been so lo- ving to you, to receive you into our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you in your pilgrimage. Chr. With a very good will ; and I am glad that you are so well disposed. Pi. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life ? Chr. I was driven out of my native country by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears ; to wit, that una- voidable destruction did attend me if I abode in that place where I was. Pi. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way ? Chr. It was as God would have it ; for when I was under the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go ; but by chance there came a man, even to me as I was trembling and weeping, whose name is Evange- list, and he directed me to the Wicket-gate, which else I should never have found, and so set me into the way that hath led me directly to this house. Pi. But did not you come by the house of the Inter- preter ? Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remem- brance of which will stick by me as long as I live ; es- pecially three things ; to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his work of grace in the heart ; how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of Cod's mercy ; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come. Pi. Why, did you hear him tell his dream ? Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, I thought ; it made my heart ache, as he was telling of it ; but yet I am glad I heard it. Pi Was this all yon saw at the house of the Inter- preter ? THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 73 Chr. No ; he took me and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were in it ; and how there came a venturous man, and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him out ; and how he was bid to come in and win eternal glory : methought those things did ravish my heart. I would have staid at that g«.od man's house a twelve- month, but that I knew I had fur- ther to go. Pi. And what saw you else in the way ? Chr. Saw ! Why, I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon a tree ; and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a very heavy bui den, but then it fell down from off me.) It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before : yea, and while I stood looking up (for then I could not forbear looking) three shining ones came to me ; one of them testified that my sins were forgiven me ; anothei strip- ped me of my rags, and gave me this embroidered coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll (and with that he plucked it out of his bosom.) Pi. But you saw more than this, did you not ? Chr The things that I have told you were the best ; yet some other matters Lsaw ; as, namely, I saw three men, Simple. Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep, a little out of the way as I came, with irons upon their heels; but do you think I could awake them ! I also saw For- mality and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall to go, as they pretended, to Zion. but they were quickly lost ; even as I myself did tell them, but they would not believe. But, above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come by the lions' mouths ; and truly, if it had not been iov the good man, the porter, that stands at the gate, I do not know but that, after all, I might i.ave gone back again ; but now I thank God, I here ; and I thank you for receiving of me. Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few ques- tions, and desired his answer to them. Pru. Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came ? G 74 the pilgrim's fkogbess. Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation : tru- ly, if I had been mindful of that country from whence I came out, I might have had opportunity to have retur- ned; but now 1 desire a better country, that is, an hea- venly one.* — Pru. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the tilings that then you were conversant withal ? Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with which all my coun- trymen, as well as myself, were delighted : but now all those things are my grief: and might I but choose mine own things, I would choose never to think of those things more ; but when I would be a doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with me.f Pru. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your per- plexity ? Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom ; but they are to me golden hours in which such things happen to me. Pru. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times as if they were vanquished ? Chr. Yes ; w hen I think on what I saw at the cross, that will^do it ; and when I look upon my embroidered coat, that will do it ; and when I look into the roll that I cany in my bosorl*, that will do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it. Pru. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to mount Zion ? Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross : and there I hope to be rid of all those things, that to this day are in me, an annoyance to me : there they say there is no death ;| and there I shall dwell with such company as I shall like best. For, to tell you the truth, I love him because I was by him eased of my burden : and I am weary of my inward sickness. I would fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company that shall continually cry, " Holy, holy, holy .* Then said Charily to Christian, Have you a family ? are you a married manj * Heb. xi. 10. t Rom. vii.- \ Isa. xxr, 8. Rev. xxi; * THE PILGRIM 8 PROGRESS. tJ Chr. I have a wife and four small children. Char. And why did not you bring them along with you ? Then Christian wept, and said, Oh ! how willingly would I have done it t but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage. Char. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavored to have shewn them the danger of being left behind. Chr. So I did; and told them also what God had wed to me of the destruction of our city ; but I seem- to them as one that mocked, and they believed me not.* Char. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them ? Chr. Yes, and that with much affection ; for you must think that my wife and poor children were very dear unto me. Char. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction ? for I suppose the destruction was visible enough to you. Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might al- so see my fears in my countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the apprehension of the judg- ments that did hang over our heads : but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me. Char. But what could they say for themselves why they came not ? Chr. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world ; and my children were given to the foolish delights of youth : so what by one thing, and what by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone. Char, But did you not with your vain tife damp all that you by words used by way of persuasion to bring them away with you ? t Chr. Indeed, I cannot commend my life ; for I am conscious to myself of many failings therein : I know also, that a man by his conversation may soon overthrow what by argument or persuasion he doth labor to fasten upon others for their good. Yet this I can say, I was * Gen. \\k. 4, 76 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. very wary of giving them occasion, by an unseemly ac- tion, to make them averse to going on pilgrimage Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me 1 was too precise ; and that I denied myself of things, for their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, 1 think, I may say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it was my threat tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbor. Cher. Indeed Cain hated liisbrother," because his own works were evil, and his brother's righteous;"* and ii' thy wife and children have been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be implacable to good ; and thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood.f Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was ready. So when they had made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table was furn- ished with fat things ; and with wine that was well refin- ed ; and all their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill : as, namely, about what he had done, and where- fore he did what he did, and why he had buildcd that house : and, by what they said, 1 perceived that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain him that had the power of death \\ but not without great danger to himself; which made me love him the. more. For, as they said, and, l>s I believe, said Christian, he did it with the loss of much blood. But that which put glory of grace into all he did, was, that-he did it out of pure love to his country. And besides, there were some of them of the household that said, they had been, and spoke with him since he did die on the cross ; and they have attested, that they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west. They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affir- med, and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory that he might do this for the poor ; and that they heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in the moun- tain of Zion alone. They said, moreover, that he had made many pilgrims princes, though by nature they * John iii. 12. + F./.ek. iii. 19. tHeb. ii. 14, THE PILGRIM'^ PROGRESS. #7 were beggars bom, and their original had been the dunghill.* Thus they discoursed together until late at night ; and after they had committed themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest. The pil- grim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose wind- ow opened towards the sun- rising : the name of the chamber was Peace, where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang — * Where am I now ! Is this the love and care Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are Thus to provide, that I should be forgiven, And dwell already the next door to heaven !' So in the morning they all get up ; and, after some more discourse, they told him that he should not depart till they had showed him the rarities of the place. And first they had him into the study, where they showed him records of the greatest antiquity : in which, as I remember my dream, they shewed him, first, the pedi- gree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient-of-days, and came by that eternal generation : here also were more fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had'ta- ken into his service ; and how he had placed them in such habitations that could neither by length of days, nor decay of nature, be dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done : as how they had M sub- dued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained prom- ises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens."! Then they read again in another part of the records of the house, where it was shewed liow willing the Lord was to receive into his favor, any, even any, though they in time past had offered great aff onts to his person and proceedings. Here also were several other histories of many other famous things, of all which Christian had a * 1 Sam. ii. 8. Ps. exjji. 7. f Heb, xi. 33, 34. G 2 78 view: as of things both ancient and modem ; together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their certain accompiishnient,both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims. The next day they took him, and had him into the armory, where they shewed him all manner of furniture which their Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breast-plate, all-prayer, and shoes that would not wear out. And there was here enough of this to harness out as many men, for the service of their Lord, as there be stars in the heaven for multitude. They also shaved him someofthe engines, with which some of his servants had done wonderful things. They showed him Moses's rod ; the hammer and nail with which Jael slew Siscra; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the armies ofMidian. Then they showed him the ox's goad, wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They show- ed him also the jaw bone with which Sampson did such mighty feats ; they showed him moreover the sling and stone with winch David slew Goliah of Gath ; and the sword also with which their Lord will kill the man of sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed him besides many excellent things with which Christian was much delighted. — This done, they went to their rest again. Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward, but they desired him to stay till the next day also ; and then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains ; which, they said, whuld yet further add to his comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than the place where at presen* he was ; so he consented and staid. When the xrorning was up* they had him to the top of the house, and bid him look south : so he did ; and, behold at a great distance * he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, very de- lectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the country. They said, it was Emmanuel's land ; and it * Isa. xxxiii. 16, 17. THE PiLGRIAl'a PROGRESS. 79 is as common, say they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the Celestial eity, as the shepherds that live there will make appear. Now Christian bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he should. But first, said they, let us go again into the armory. So they did ; and when he came there, they harnessed him from head to foot with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the way. He being therefore thus ac- coutred, walked out with his friends to the gale, and there he abked the porter, if he saw any pilgrim pass by ? Then the porter answered, Yes. Chr. Pray did you know him ? Port. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faith- ful. O, said Christian, I know him : he is my towrs- man, my near neighbor, he comes from the place where I was born : how far do you think he may be before ? Port. He is got by this time below the hill. Well, said Christian, good porter, the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy blessings much increase, for the kindness thou hast shewed me. Then he be^an to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reitera- ting their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult com- ing up, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is ; for it is an hard matter for a man to go down into the valley of Humiliation as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way ; therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily, yet he caught a slip or two. Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, When Christian was gone down to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster ©f raisins : and then he went on his way. Whilst Christian is amon? his godly friends, Their golden mouths make him sufficient mends For all his ., >f : and when they let him go. Hies clad with northern steel from top to toe. 80 But now, in this valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it ; for tie haw gone but a little way, be- fore he spied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him: his namei s Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or stand his ground. But he considered again that he had no armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to him might give him greater advan- tage, with ease to pierce him with his darts ; therefore he resolved to venture, and stand his ground : for, thought he, had I no more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it would be the best way to stand. So he went on, and Apoiiyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold : he was clothed with scales like a fish (and they are his pride ;) he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question him. jifioL Whence came you ? and whither are you bound ? Chr. I am come from the city of Destruction, which is the place of all evil, and am going to the city of Zion. AfioL By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects ; for all that country is mine, and I am the prince and god of it. How is it then that thou hast run away from thy king ? Were it not for that I hope thou mayest do me more service, 1 would strike thee now at one blow to the ground. Chr. I was born indeed in your dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages was such as a man could not live on ; " for the* wages of sin is death;"* therefore when I was come to y v-ars I did, as other con- siderate persons do, look out if perhaps I might mend myself. AfioL There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee ; but since thou comp'ainest of thy service and wages, be content to go ha' k ; what our country will afford, I do here pro- mise to give thee. * Rom. vi. 23. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 81 Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the king of princes ; and how can I with fairness go back with thee ! jtfiol. Thou hast done this according to the proverb, * Change a bad for a worse ;' but it is ordinary for those that nave professed themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well. Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my alle- giance to him : how then can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor I AjioU Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am wil- ling to pass by all, if now thou wilt turn again and go back. Chr. What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and besides, I count that the prince under whose banner now 1 stand, is able to absolve me ; yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance wi+h thee : and, besides, O thou destroying Apodyon, to speak truth, I like his service, his wages, his servants, his govern- ment, his company, and country, better than thine ; and therefore leave off to persuade me further ; I am his servant, and I will follow him. Afiol. Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that, lor the most part, his ser- vants come to an ill end, because they are t. ansgressors against me and my ways. How mai y oi them have been put to shameful deaths ? — And besides, thou c.oun- test his service better than mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where he is to deliver any that ser- ved him out of their hands : but, as forme, now many times, as all the world very well knows, have I deliver- ed, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them : and sol will deliver the*. Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on purpose to try their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end : and, as for the ill end thou sayest they come to, thnt is most glorious in their account: for. for present deliverance, they do not much expect it ; for they stay for their glory, and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in his and the glory of the an- gels. A{iol. Thou hasl already been unfaithful in thy ser- vice to him ; and how dost thou think to receive wages of him? Chr. Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him ? Afiol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choaked in the gulph of Despond ; thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, where- as thou shouldst have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off: thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things : thou wast also almost persuaded to go back at the sight of the lions : and when thou talkest of thy jour- ney, and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou art in- wardly desirous of vain-§lory in all that thou sayestor doest. Chr. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out : but the prince, whom I serve and honor, is merciful and ready to forgive. But besides, these infir- mities possessed me in thy country : for there I sucked them in, and 1 have groaned under them, being sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, say- ing, I am an enemy to this Prince ; I hate his person, his laws, and people : I am come out on purpose .to withstand thee. Chr. Apollyon, beware what you do ; for I am in the king's high- way. the way of holiness ; therefore take heed to yourself. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this matter ; prepare thyself to die ; for I swear by my infernal den that thou shalt go no further ; here will I spill thy sou!. And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast : but Christian had a shield in Ms hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger cf that. Then did Christian draw ; tor he saw it was time to bestir him ; and Apollyon as fast made at him, throw- ing darts as thick as hail ; by the which, notwil bI ing all that Christian could do to avoid it, ApoVn wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot. This THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. S3 made Christian give a little back : Apollyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian again took cour- age, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent ; for you must know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. Then Apollyon, spying his opportunity, began to ga- ther up close to Christian, and wrestling with him gave him a dreadful fall ; and with that Christian's sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now : and with that he had almost pressed him to death ; so that Christian began to despair of life. But, as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, " Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy ! when I fall, I shall arise ;"* and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back as one that had received his mortal wound. Chris- tian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, " Nay in all these things we are more than conquerors, through him that loved us :"t and with that Apollyon spread forth his drc%on*s wings and sped him away, that Chris- tian saw him no more. In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling and hideous roar- ing Apollyon made all the time of the fight ; he spake like a dragon : — and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two edged sword ; then indeed he did smile and look upward ! But it was the dreadfulest fight that ever I saw. So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to him that hath delivered me cut of the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me against Apollyon. And so he did ; saying, 4 Great Beelzebub the captain of this fiend, Design'd my ruin ; therefore to this end * Mic. ii, 3. f Rom. viii. 37—39. Jaa>. W. T- 34 the pilgrim's progress. }Ie sent him harness' d out ; and he with rage ' hellish was, did fiercely me engage : blessed Michael helped me, and 1 dint of sword did quickly make him fly : tit tore to him let me gire lasting praise And thanks, and bless his holy name always. Then there came to him an hand with some of the leaves of the tree of life, the which Christian took and applied to the wounds that he had received in the battle, and wis healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to eat bread, and to drink of that bottle that was given him a little before : *o being refreshed, he addres- sed himself to his journey with his sword drawn in his hand ; for he said ; I know not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront from Apollyon quite through the valley. Now at the end of this valley was another, called the ley of the Shadow of Death ; and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this valley is a very solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus des- cribes it : "A wilderness, a land of deserts and of pits; aland of drought, and of the shr.dow of death ; aland that no man," but a Christian, " passeth tffrough, and where no man dwelt. "* Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon ; as by the sequel you shall see. I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got on the borders of the Shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an evil re- port of the good knd,f making haste to go back ; to whom Christian spake as follows : Whither are you going '? They said, Back ! back ! and we would have you to do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. Why, what's the matter ? said Christian. Matter ! said they : We were going that way ps you are going, and went as far as we durst ; and indeed we were almost past coming back : for had we gone a lit- tle further, we had not been here to bring the news to tliee. * Jer. ii. 9. t Num. xhi. 8j But what have you met with ? said Christian. Men. Why, we were almost in the valley of the Sha- dow of Death ;• but that by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to it. But what have you seen ? said Christian. Men. Seen ? why the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch : we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit : we heard also in the valley a con- tinual howling and yelling, as of people under unuttera- ble misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons ; and over that valley hung the discouraging clouds of confusion : death also doth always spread his wing over it.f In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without order. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but this is my way to the desired haven. Men. Be it thy way : we will not choose it for ours. So they parted ; and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted. I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the right hand a very steep ditch ; that ditch is it into which the blind hath led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished. Again, behold on the left hand there was a very dangerous quag, into which if even a good man falls he finds no bottom for his foot to stand on : in this quag king David once did fall, and had, no doubt, therein been smothered, had not he that is able plucked him out4 The path-way was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it ; for wh^n he sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other : also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh bitterly : for besides the danger mentioned above, the path-way was here so dark, that oftentimes when he lifted up his foot to go forward, he knew not where, nor upon what, ■ lie should set it next. * Psal. xliv. 19, * f Job Hi. 5. x. 22. t Psal. lxix. n 1 H €8 About the midst of the valley, I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it stood also hard by the wav-side : Now, thought Christian, what shall I do ? Arid ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before) that he was forced to put up his sword, and betake him- self to another weapon called all-prayer : so he cried, in my hearing, w O LoTd, I beseech thee to deliver my soul.*" Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him : also he heard doleful voices, and rushing to and fro, 6Q that sometimes he thought he should be torn to pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises were heard by him, for several miles together : and coming to a place where he thought he heard a company of fiends coming for- ward to meet him, he stopt, and began to muse what he had best to do : sometimes he had half a thought to go back ; then again he thought he might be half way through the valley ; he remembered also how he had already vanquished many a danger ; and that the dan- ger of going back mightfbe much mfe than for to go forward. So he resolved to go on : yet the fiends see- med to come nearer and nearer : but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most ve- hement voice, ** I will walk in the strength cf the Lord God ;" so they gave back, and came no fun: One thing I would not let slip : I took notice that now poor Christian was so confounded that he did not know his own voice : and thus I perceived it : just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit> one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stept up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many griev- our blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had proceeded from Ris own mind. This put Christian more to it than any thing that he met with before, even to think that he should now blaspheme him that he lo- ved so much before ; yet if he could have helped it he would have done it : but he had not the discretion eith- * Psal. erri. 4. . Epbes. vi. IB. THE PILGRIM'd PROGRESS. 87 cr to stop his ears or to know from whence those bias- pjiemies came. When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no ill, for thou art with me * Then was he glad, and that for these reasons : — first, because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in this valley as well as himself; — secondly, for that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and dismal state : and why not, thought he, with me ? though by reason of the impediment that at- tends this place I cannot perceive it ;f — thirdly, for that he hoped (could he overtake them) to have company by and by. — So he went on, and called to him that was before ; but he knew not what to answer ; for that he also thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day broke : then said Christian, He hath " turned the shadow of death into the morning."t Now morning being come he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to see by the light of the day what hazards he had gone through in the dark : so he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and the quag that was on the other ; also how narrow the way was which led betwixt them both : also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit, but all afar off, for alter break of the day they came not nigh; yet they were discovered to him according to that which is written, iS He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth to light the shadow of death."} Now was Christian much affected at his deliverance from all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them conspicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising ; and this was another mercy to Chris- tian : for you must note, that though the first part of the valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous ; yet this second part, which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far * Psal. xxiii. 4. f Job. is. 1. } Amos. v. 8. \ Job. xii. 28. 88 the pilgrim's progress. more dangerous : for, from the place where he now stood even to the end of the valley, the way was all a- long set so full of snares, traps, gins, and nets, here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down, there ; that had it been dark, as it was when he came the first part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away : but, as I said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he, " His candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go through darkness."* In this light therefore he came to the end of the val- ley. Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this valley lay blood, bones,ashes and mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly : and while 1 was musing what should be the reason, I spied a little before me a cave, where two giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old time : by whose power and tyranny, the men, whose bones, blood, ashes, &c. lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered : but I have learnt since that Pagan has been dead many a day ; and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd brush- es that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he now can do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them. So I saw that Christian went on his way ; yet at the sight of the old man, that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think ; especially because he spake to him, though he could not go after him, saying, * You will never mend till more of you be burned.' But he held his peace, and set a good face on it, and so went by and catched no hurt. Then sang Christian, ' O world of wonders ! (I can say no less) That I should be preserv'd in that distress That I have met with here ! O blessed be That hand that from it hath deliver 1 d me ! Dangers, in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, Bid compass me while I this vale was in : * Job xxix. 3. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRE68. 89 Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets, did lie My path about, that worthless silly I Might have beeu catch'd, entangled, aud cast down : But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown.' Now as Christian went on his way, he came to a lit- tle ascent, which was cast up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them. Up there, therefore, Chris- tian went, and looking forward he saw Faithful before him upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho ! so ho ! stay, and i I will be your companion.' At that Faithful looked behind him ; to whom Christian cried, i Stay, stay till I come to you ;' bufriaithful an- swered, i No, I am upon my life, and the avenger ' of blood is behind me.' At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, and did also over- run him ; so the last was first. Then did Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had gotten the start of his brother : but not taking good heed to his feet he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise* again until Faithful came up to help him. Then I saw in my dream they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet discourse of all things that*had happened to them in their pilgrimage : and thus Chris- tian began : My honored and well beloved brother Faithful, I am glad that I have overtaken you ; and that dod has so tempered our spirits that we can walk as companions in this so pleasant a path. Fait h: I had thought, dear friend, to have had your company quite from our town, but you did get the start of me, wherefore I was forced to come thus much of the way alone. Chr. How long did you stay in the city of Destruc- tion, before you set out after me on your pilgrimage 1 Faith. Till I could stay no longer; for there was great talk presently after you were gone out, that our city would in a short time with fire from heaven be burned down to the ground. Chr What ! did your neighbors talk so ? Faith. Yes, it was for a while in every body's moutk 90 the pilgrim's progress. Chr. What ! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger ? Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly' believe it. For, in the heat of the discourse, J heard some of them deridingly speak of you and your desperate journey ; for so they called this your pilgrimage. But 1 did be- lieve, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brim stone from above; and therefore I have made my escape. Chr. Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable ? Faith. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at the slough of Despond : where, as some said, he fell in ; but he would not be known to have so done ; but I am sure he was soundly bedaubed with that kind of dirt. Chr. And what said the neighbors to him ? Faith. He hath since his going back been had great- Jy in derision, and that among all sorts of people ; some do mock and despise him, and scarce w'.U any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had sever gone out of the city. "Chr. But why should they be so set against him, Since they also despised the way, that he forsook ? Faith, O, they say, 'Hang him ; he is a turn-coat ! he was not true to his profession :' I think God has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and make kim a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way.* €hr. Had you no talk with him before you came out ? Faith. I met him once in the streets, but he leered sftwiy on the otherTside, as one ashamed of what he hacU dtone : so I spake not to him. ^ Chr. Well, at my first setting- out, I had hopes of that nan ; nut now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city : for " it hath happened to him according tothe true proverb, The dog is turned to his vomit a- gain ; and the sow that was washed, to her wallowing i&the raire"t Faith. They are my fears of him too : but who can Jlinder that which will be ? • Jer. Mix, 18, 19, 1 2 Pet. ii. 22* THE PlLChiM S PROGRESS. 91 Well, neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met with in the way as you came : for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder. Faith. I escaped the slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger ; only I met with one, whose name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief. Chr, It was well you escaped her net : Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did ; but it had like to have cost him his life.* But what did she say to you ? Faith. You cannot think, but that you know some- thing, what a flattering tongue she had ; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all manner of content. Chr. Nay, she did not pron.ise you the content of a good conscience. Faith. You know that I mean all carnal and fleshly content. Chr. Thank God you have escaped her, "the abhor- red of the Lord shall fall into her ditch.f Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape lier or no. Chr. Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires. Faith No, not to defile myself ; for I remembered an -old writing that I had seen, which said, " her steps take hold on hell. 5, $ So I shut mine eyes because I would not be bewitched with her looks : then she railed on me, and I went my way. Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you came ? Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound ? I told him that I was a pilgrim going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest feHow ; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the wages that I shall give * Gen. xxxix. 11—13. f Prov. xxii. 14, fTrov. r.&. Job. xxxi. 1. thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt ? He 6aid, His name was Adam the first, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit.* 1 asked him then what was his work 1 and what the wages he would give ; He told me, that his work was many delights ; and his wages, that 1 should be his heir at last. 1 fur- ther asked him what house he kept, and what other ser- vants he had ? So he told me that his house was main- tained with all the daigties in the world : and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Theq I ask« ed how many children he had ? He said, that he had but three daughters, " the Lust of the Fleshy the Lust- of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life ;"t and that 1 should marry them if I would. — Then I asked how long time he would havy me to live with him ? And he told me as long as he lived himself. Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last ? Faith. Why, at first I found myself somewhat inclin- able to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair ; but looking in his forehead as 1 talked with him, I saw there written, " Put off the old man with his deeds." Chr. And how then ? Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, however he flattered, when he got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave. So I forbid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told me, that he would send such a one afier me that should make my way bitter to my soul. So 1 turned to go a- way from him ; but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and gave me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself: this made me cry, O wretch- ed man l\ So I went on my way up the hill. Now, when I had got about halfway up, I looked behind me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind ; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands. * Ephes. iv. 22. i 1 John i). 16, J Rom. vii. 24. 93 Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to jfest me ; but being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom. Faith. But, good brother, hear me out : so soon as the man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow ; for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he had served me so ? He said, because of my secret inclining to Adam the first : and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backwaid : so I lay at his feet for dead as be- fore. When I came to myself again I cried him mer- cy : but he said, I know not how to shew mercy ; and with that knocked me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me but that one came by and bid him forbear. Chr. Who was it bid him forbear ? Faith. I did not know him at first, but as he went by I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side : then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the lull. Chr. The man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth be how to shew mercy to those that transgress his law. Faith. I know it very well ; it was not the first time that he has met with me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he would burn my house over my head if I staid there. . Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill on the side of which Moses met you ? Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it : but, for the lions, I think they, were asleep ; for it was about noon : and because I had so much of the day be- fore me, I passed by the Porter and came down the hill. i Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by; but I wish you had called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, did you meet nobody in the valley of Humility ? Faith. Yes, \ met with one Discontent, who would THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. willingly have persuaded me to go back again with him : his reason was, for that the valley was altogether without honor. He told me moreover, that thereto go was the way to disoblige all my friends, as Pride, Arro- gancy, Self-conceit, Worldly-glory, with others, who he knew, as he said, would be very much offended if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through this val- ley. Chr, Well, and how did you answer him ? Faith, I told him, That although all these that he na- med might claim kindred of ine, and that rightly (for indeed they were my relations according to the flesh ;) yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, and I also rejected them \ and therefore they are to me now no more than if they had never been of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that, as to this valley, he had quit*; misrepresented the thing ; for M before honor is humility," li and a haughty spirit before a fall.? There- fore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy our affections. Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but, of all the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears the wrong name. The other would be said nay, after a lit- tle argumentation and somewhat else : but that bold fa- ced Shame would never have done. Chr. Why, what did he say to you ? Faith. What ! why he objected against religion it- self; he said, It was a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion ; he said, that a tender con- science was an unmanly thing ; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the times accustom themselves unto, would make him the ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion ; nor any of i hem neither, before they were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all for nobody knows what.* He moreover objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were * John vii. 48. 1 Cor. i 26. hi. 18. Phil. ni. 7-0 the pilgrim's procuess. 95 chiefly the pilgrims of the times in rcjiich they lived; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I re- late : as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourn- ing under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home : that it was a shame to ask my neigh- bor forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from any. He said also, that reli- gion made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which are called by finer names ; and made him own and lespect the base, because of the same religious fraternity : and is not this, said he, a shame ? Chr. And what did you say to him ? Faith. Say ! why I could not tell what to say at first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face ; even this Shame fetched it up, and had almost b$N*me quite off. But at last I began to consider that u that which is highly esteemed among men is- had in abomination with God."* And I thought again, this shame tells me what men are : but it tells m^notfeing what God or the word of God is.— And I thought, more- over, that at the day of doom we shall not be doomed to death or life, according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom of the law of the Highctt. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, though all the men in the world are against it : seeing then that God prefers his religion ; seeing God prefers tender conscience ; seeing they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of heaven are wisest ; and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer than the grea- test man in the world that hates him — Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation ; shall I entertain thee against my sovereign Lord ? how then shall I look him in the face at his coming ? ShouM I now be asha- med of his ways and servants, how can I expect the blessing ?f But indeed this Shame was a bold villain : I could scarce shake him out of my company : yea, he Would be haunting of me, and continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities * Luke rri, 15. t Mark vui. 38. 96 that attend religion : but at last I told him, it was but in vain to attempt further in this business ; for those things that he disdained, in those did I see most glory : and so at last I got past this importunate one. And when I had shaken him off, then I began to sing : • The trials that those men do meet withal, That are obedient to the heavenly call, Are manifold and suited to the flesh, And come, and come, and come again afresh ; That now, or some times else, we by them may Be taken, overcome, or cast away. O let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims then He vigilant, and quit themselves like men/ Chr. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst with- stand this villain so bravely ; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name : for he is so bold as to iollow us in the streets, and to attempt to put us to shame before all men ; that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good. But if he was not himself auda- cious, he would never attempt to do as he does : but let us still insist him ; for notwithstanding all his brava- does he promoteth the fool, and none else. — ^ The wise shall inherit glory," said Solomon ; " but shame shall be the promotion of fools."* Faith. I think we must cry to Him, for help against Shame, that would have us be valiant for truth upon the earth. Chr. You say true : but did you meet with nobody else in that valley ? Faith. v No, not I ; for I had sun-shine all the rest of titigfee way through that, and also through the valley of the * Shadow of Death. Chr. It was well for you ; I am sure it fared far oth- erwise with me : I had for a long season, as soon as al- most I entered into that valley, a dreadful battle with that foul fiend Apollyon ; yea, I thought verily he would have killed me, especially wlv n he got me down, and crushed me under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces : for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my * 1'rov. iii. 35. ihe pilgrim's pkoghess. 9? hand ; nay, he told me he was sure of me ; but 1 cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost halt the way through it. I thought 1 should have been killed there over and over : but at last day broke, and the sun rose, and I went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet. Moreover I saw in my dream, that, as they went on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance beside them ; for in this place there was room enough for them all to walk. He was a tall man, and something moie comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner : Friend, whither away ? are you going to the heavenly country ? Talk. I am going to the same place. Faith. That is well ; then I hope we may have your good company. Talk. With a very good will, will I be your compan- ion. Faith. Come on then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time in discoursing of things that are pro- fitable. Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, with you or with any other ; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline to so good a work ; for to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend their time as they are in their travels; but choose much rather to be speaking of things to no profit ; and this hath been a trouble to me. Faith. That is iivleed a thing to be lamented : for what thing so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven ? Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are full of conviction : — and, I will add, what things are so peasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things ; of God? What things *o pleasant ? that «, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful: for instance, it a I 9fl the pilgrim's progress. man doth delight to talk of the history r The mystery of things ; or if a man doth iove to talk of miracles, won- ders, or signs,— where shall he find tilings recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned as in the holy scrip- ture ? Faith. That's true : but to be profited by suaVthings in our talk be our chief design. Talk. That is it that I said ; for to talk of such things is most profitable ; for by so doing a man may get knowledge of many things ; a* of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of things above Tnus in gener- al : but more particularly, by this a man may learn the necessity of the new birth ; the insufficiency of our works ; the need of Christ's righteousness, &c. Be- sides, by this a man may learn what it is to repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the like ; by this also ar man may learn what are the great promises and conso- lations of the gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindi- cate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant. Faith. All this is tr\ie, and glad am I to hear these things from you. Talk. Alas ! t'ie want ot this is the cause that so few understand the need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their soul, in order to eternal life ; but ignorantly live in the works of the law, by the which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven. Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of God ; no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them. Talk. All that I know very well : for a man can re- ceive nothing except it be given him from heaven ; all is of grace, not of works : I could give you an hundred scriptures for the confirmation of this. Well then, ^aid Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at this time found our discourse upon. Talk. What you will : I will talk of things heavenly or things earthly ; things moral or things evangelical ; things sacred or things profane ; things past or things *.» come i things foreign or things at home ; thin 99 more essential or things circumstantial ; provided that tfi done to our profit. Kfow did Faitnful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian (for he walked all this while by himself) he said to him, but softly, What a brave companion have we got ! surely this man will make a very excellent pil- grim. At this Christian modestly smiled, and -said, This man, with whom you are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his. twenty of them who know him not. Faith. Do you know him then ? Chr. Know him ! yes, better than he knows himself. Faith. Pray what is he ? Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our town ; I wonder that you should be a stranger to him ; only I consider that our town is large. Faith. Whose son is he ? and whereabouts doth he dwell ? Chr. He is the son of one Say- well, he dwelt in Prat* ing-row ; and is known, of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating-row ; and not" withstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow. Faith. Well he seems to be a very pretty man. Chr. That is, to them that have not a thorough ac- quaintance with him ; for he is best abroad, near home he is ugly enough ; your saying that he is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the works of the painter, whose pictures show better at a distance, but very near, more unpleasing. Faith. I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled. Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely — I will give you a further discovery of him : this man is for any company, and for any talk ; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale-bench ; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth : religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation ; all he hath lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to make a ".oil? therewith. 1Q0 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Faith. Say you so ? then I am in this man greatly deceived. Chr. Deceived ! you may be sure of it : remember the proverb, " They say, and do not :" but " the king- d< m of God is not in word, but in power."* He talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth : but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his family, and have observed him both at heme and abroad ; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of religion as the white of an egg is of savour. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, the brute, in his kind, serves God far better than he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame, of religion, to all that know him :f it can hardly have a good wore in all that end of the town where he dwells, through him. Thus say the common people that know him,—' A saint abroad, and a devil at home.' His poor family finds it so; he is such a churl, such a railer at and so unreasonable with his servants, that they neither know how to do for, or speak' to him. Men that have any dealings with him say it is better to deal with a Turk than with him; for fairer dealings they shall have -at his hands. This Talkative, if it be possible will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to follow his steps; and if he finds in any of them a c /oo/- ish amorousness* (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience) he calls them fools and block- heads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their commendations before others. For my part, I am of opinion that he has by his wicked life cau- sed many to stnmbfc and fall ; and will be, if God pre- vents not, the ruin of many more. Faith. Well, my brother, 1 am bound to believe you ; nor only because y u say yon krow him, but also be- cause like a Christian you mi'ke your reports of men. for I cannot think that you sp^ak those things of ill will, but because: it is even so as you say. CUr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him as at first you did : had he received this report at their hands only, that arc * Matt. XK'ii. 3. 1 Cor. iv. %0. \ Rem. ii. 23, 24, *HE PILGRIM'S PR0ARE8S. 10J enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a siander (a lot that often fclls from bad men's mouths, upon good men's names and professions :) but all these tilings, yea, and a great many more as bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him ; they can neither call him bro- ther nor friend : the very naming of him among them, makes them blush, if they know him. Faith. Well, 1 see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter 1 shall better observe this distinc- tion. Chr. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are the soul and the body ; for, as the body without the soul is but a dead carcase, so saying, if it be alone is but a dead carcase also. The soul of religion is the practical part : " pure religion and undefiled, before God the Father, is this : to visit the fatherless and wid- ows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world."* This, Talkative is not aware of ; he thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Chris- tian ; and thus he deceiveth his own spul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed ; talking is not sufficient to prove that fruit is irdeed in the heart and life : and let us assure ourselves that at the day of doom men shall be judged according to their fruits :f it will not be said then, i Did you believe V but, ' Were you doers, or talkers only V and accordingly shall they be judged. The end of the world is compared to our harvest : and you know men at harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that any thing can be accepted that is not of faith j but 1 speak this to shew you how insignificant the pro- fession of Talkative will be at that day Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he described the beast that is clean :$ — he is such an one that parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud ; not that parteth the hoof only, or that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. And this truly re- sembles Talkative ; he cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge ! he cheweth upon the word ; but he divi- * James, i. 22—27. f Matt. *iii. 23. % Lev, Ji, Dent, xiv' I 2 102 deth not the hoof, he parteth not with the way of sin- ners; but, as the hare, he r$£neth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean. Chr. You have sptfken* for aught 1 know, the true gospel sense of these texts. And I will add another thing : Paul calleth some men, yea. and tnose great tal- kers too, " sounding brass and tinkling cymbals ;" that is, as he expounds them in another place, l » things *> kn- out life giving sound."* "Things without life ;" tnat is without the true faith and grace of the gospel ; and consequently things that shall never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of life, though their sound, by their talk, be as it were the tongue or voice of an angel. Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but am as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him ? Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart and turn it. Faith. What would you have me to do ? Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the fiower of religion ; and ask him plainly when he has approved of it (for that he will) whether this thing be set up in his heart, house, or con- versation ? Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come, what cheer ? how is it now ? Talk. Thank you, well ; 1 thought we should have liad a great deal of talk by this time. Faith. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now ; and since you left it with me to state the question, let it be this : How doth the saving grace of God discover itself When it is in the heart of man ? Talk. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about the paver of things : well, it is a very good question, and 1 shall be willing to answer you : and take my an- swer in brief thus : first, where the grace of God is m the he-m, it causeth there a great outcry against sm. Secondly, — . : - t Faith. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once : I * Cor, xiii. 1—3. *iv. 7. 103 think you should rather say, it shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin ' Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of, sin ? Faith. Oh ! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin of poli« y, but cannot abhor it, but by virtue of a god- ly antipathy against it: 1 have heard ma.-y cry out a- gainst sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house and conversation. Joseph's mistress cried with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy ; but she would willingly notwithstanding that, have com- mitted uncleanliness with him* Some cry out a- gai: ; st sin, even as the mother cries out against her chi'd in her lap, when she calleth it slut, and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it. Taih. You lie at the catch, I perceive. Faith No, not I ; I am only for setting things right. But what is the second thing whereby you will prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart '. Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries. Faith. This sign should have been first : but first Or last, it is also false ; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained in the mysteries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace in tho sou'.f Yea, if a man. have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so consequently be no child of God. When Christ said, ' Do ye know of all these things?" and the disciples had answered) Yes, he added, 4i Biessed are ye, if ye do them." He cloth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing : " he that knoweth his master's will and doeth it not " A man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian : therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know, is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters; but to do, is that whieh pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good withouf"knowledge ; for without that the heart is naught. There are therefore two sorts of knowledge : knowledge that rcsteth in the bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is accom- panied with the grace of faith and love; which puts a man upon doing even the will cf God from the heart ; * Gen. xzxJz. 11—15. f 1 Cor. iiii. J Psal, cjtix. 34. 104 the first of these will serve the talker ; but without the other, the Christian is not content : " Give me under- standing, and I shall keep thy law ; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart."* Talk. You lie at the catdi again ; this is not for edi- fication. Faith Well, if you please, propound another sign how this work of grace clisccveieth ilseif where it is. Talk. Not I ; for I see we shall not agree. Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it ? Talk. You may use your liberty. Faith. A work of grace in the soul discovereth it- self, either to him that hath it, or to standers by. To him that hath it, thus : it gives him conviction of sin, especially of the defilement of his nature, and the sin of unbelief, for the sake of whicu, he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by faith in Jksus Christ.f This sight and sense of things wor- keth in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life ; at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; to which hungerings, &c. the promise is made.J Now according to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so his joy and peace, so is his love to ho- liness, so are his desires to know him more, and also to serve him more in this world. But though, I say, it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to conclude, that this is a work oi grace : be- cause his corruptions now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter : therefore in him that hath this work, there is required a very sound judg- ment, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of grace. Toothers it is thus discovered: 1. By an experi- mental confession of his faith in Christ. 2. By a life an- swerable to that confession ; to wit, a life of holiness ; heart holiness, family holiness (if he hath a f mily) and * Psal. cxix. 34. f Mark xiv. 16. John xvi. 8, 9. Rom. vii. 24. t Ps - xxxviii. 18. Jer. xxxi. 19. Matt. v. 6. Acts ir. 12, Gal. i. 15, 16. Rev. xxi. 6. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 105 by conversation holiness in the world ; which in the general teacheth him inwardly to abhor his sin, and him- self for that, in secret ; to suppress it in his family, and to promote holiness in the world ; not by talk only, as an hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a prac- tical subjection in faith and love to the power ofihe word.* And now, Sir, as to this brief description of the work of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object, object ; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a secret question Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear : let me therefore have your second question. Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part of the description of it ; and doth your life and conver- sation testify the same ; or standeth your religion in word or tongue, and not in deed and truth? Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen to ; and also noth- ing but what your conscience can justify you in : •' for not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth" Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my conversation, and all my neighbors tell me I lie, is great wickedness. Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but, recov- ering himself, thus he replied : You come now to ex- perience, to conscience, and God : and to appeal to him for justification of what is spoken : this kind of discourse I did not expect ; nor am I disposed to answer such questions : because T count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a catechizer : and though you should do so, yet I may refuse to make you my judge. But I pray, will you tcil me why you ask me such questions ? Faith. Berause I saw you forward to talk, and be- cause I knew net that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of you, that you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and that your conversation gives this your profession the lie. They say you are a spot among Christians; and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly conversa_ * Ps. 1. 23. Ezek. xx. 43. Matt v. 8. John. xiv. IS. Rote. x. 9, IP. PUil. iii. 17— -20, lOtf THE PILGRIM T S PROGRESS. tion ; that some already have stumbled at your wiekcd ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed t! reby; your religion and an ale-house, and copious- ness, and uncleanness, and swearing and lying, and vain tompan) -keeping, 8cc will stand together. 'The prov- erb is true of you, which is said of a whore, to wit. that * she is a shame to all women ;' so you are a shame to all professors. Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or melancholic man, not fit to be dis- coursed with : — and so, adieu Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I told you how it would happen ; your words and his lusts could not agree. He had rather leave your com- pany than reform his life ; but he is gone, as I said : let him go, the loss is no man's but his own : he has saved us the trouble of going from him ; for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have been but a blot in your company : besides the apostle says, " From such withdraw thyself." FaitJi. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him ; it may happen that he will think of it again : however, I have dealt plainly with him and so am clear of his blood if he perisheth. Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did; there is but little of this faithful dealing with men now-a-days, and that makes religion to stink so in the nostrils of many as it doth : for tln-y are these talkative fools, whose religion is only in words, and are debauch- ed and vain in their own conversation, that, being so much admitted .,o the fellowship of the godly, do puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere. I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done ; then should they be either made more conformable to religion, or the company of saints would be too hot for them. Then did Faithful say — * How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes ! How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes To drive down all before bim ? But so soou As faithful talks of hear i-work, liketbemoen HE PILGRIM 8 PROGRESS. 107 the full, ioto the wane lie goes ; ill all but he that heart-work kuows. r * hus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way easy which would other- wise no doubt have been tedious to them : for now they went through a wilderness. Now when Christian and Faithful were got almost quite out of this wilderness, Faithful chanced to cast his eye back, and spied one coming after them, an * John. v. 36, Gal. vi. 9. >08 THE P1L(5RIm's progress. run that you may obtain it." Some there bs that set I ; this crown, and after they have gone far for it, a- nother comes in, and tak< s it from them : " hold fast v. fore that you have, let no man take your crown ;" you are not yet out of the gun-shot of the devil : " you have not resisted unto blood, striving against sin :" let the kingdom be always before you, and believe stedfast- }y concerning things that are invisible: let nothing that is on this side the other world get within you : and a« hove all, iook well to your own hearts and to 'the lusts thereof, for they arc tk deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked :" set your faces like a flint ; you have ail power in heaven and earth on your side. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation ; but told him withal, that they would have him speak furth- er to them for their help the rest of the way ; and -the rather, for that they well knew that he was a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen unto them, and how they might resist and overcome them. To which request Faithfui also consented. So Evange- list began as followetti : My sons, you have heard in the words of the truth of the gospel, that " you must through many ** tribula- tions enter into the kingdom of heaven." And again, that " in every city, bonds and afflictions abide on you;" and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long on your pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other You have found something in the truth of these testimonies upon you already, and more will immedi- ately lollow : for now, as you see, you are almost out of this wilderness, therefore you will soon come into a town, that you will by and by see before you : and in that town you will be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you ; and be you sure that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold with blood : but " be you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a crown of life" He that shall die there, although his death will be unnatur- al, and his pains perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow, not only because he will be arrived at the Celestial City soonest, but because he will c?* * 1 Cor. ix. 24—27. Rev, iii. 12. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 109 cape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his journey. But when you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then remember your friend and quit yourselves ji^e men ; and " commit the keeping of your souls to your God in well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator." Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them ; the name of that town is Vanity ; and at that town there is a fair kept, called Vanity-fair : it is kept. ?.ll the year long : it beareth the name of Vanity-fair, because the town where it is kept is " lighter than va- nity," and also, because all thai is there sold, or that cometh thither,- is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, " All that cometh is vanity*.*' This fair is no new erected business, but a thing of ancient standing : I will show you the original of it. Almost five thousand years agone, there were pil- grims walking to the Celestial City, as these two hon- est persons are : and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving, by the path that the pilgrims made, that their way to their city lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair ; a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity ; and that it should last all the year long : therefore, at this fair, are all such merchandize sold, as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures ; and delights of all surts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold, perils, precious stones, and what not ? And moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen jugglings, cheats, games4plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every kind. Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood- red cole; And as in other fairs of less moment, there are sever- al rows and streets under their proper names, where such wares are vended, so here likewise you have the proper places, rows, streets (viz. countries and king- * Eccles. i. 2, 14. ii. 17. si, S. Isaiah xl. >7. K € 110 doras) where the wares of this fair are soonest to be found. Here is the Britain row, the French row, the Italian row, the Spanish row, the German row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But as in otffl r fairs some one commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandize is great- ly promoted in this fair : only our English nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat. Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through the town where this lustly fair is kept ; and he that will go to the city, and yet not go through this town, " must needs go out of the world." The Prince of princes himself, when here, went through this town to his own country, and that upon a fair-day loo : yea, and as I think, it was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities ; yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have done him reverence as he went through the town : yea, be- cause he was such a person of honor, Beelzebub had had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure that Blessed One, to cheapen and buy some of his vanities : but he had no mind to the merch- andize, , nd therefore left the town without laying out so much as one farthing upon these vanities.* This fair therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair. Now these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so they did ; but, behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the pecple in the fair were mo- ved, and the town itself, as it were, in hubbub about them ; and that for several reasons ; for, First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment, as was diverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a great gazing upon them t-some said they were fools ;t some they were bedlams ; and some, they were outlandish men. Secondly, And, as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech ; for few could un- derstand what they said : they naturally spoke the lan- *Matt. iv, 8, 9. Luke it. 5—7. f 1 Cor. iv, 9, 10. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ill guage of Canaan ; but they that kept the fair, were the men of this world : so that from one end of the fair to the other, th ;y seemed barbarians each to the other. Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandizes was, that these pilgrims set very light by all their wares : they cared not so much as to look upon them : and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, " Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity ;"* and look upwards, signifying, that their trade and traffic was in heaven. One chanced, mockingly, beholding the carriages of the men, to say unto them, ' What will ye buy V but they looking gravely upon him, said, We " buy the truth."t At that, there was an occasion taken to despite the men the more : some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last, things came to a hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was con- founded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and de- puted some of his most trusty friends to take those men into examination, about whom the fair was almost over- turned. So the men were brought ic examination; and they that sat upon them, asked them whence they came, whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb ? The men told them that they were pilgrims and strangers in the world; and that they were going to their own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem ;Jand that they had given no occas- ion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchandi- sers, thus to abuse them, and to stop them in their jour- ney : except it was for that, when one asked Ihem what they would buy, they said they would buy the truth. — But they that were appointed to examine them, did not believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. Therefore they lay for some time, and were made the object of any man's sport, or malice, or * Fs. caix. 37. f Prov. xxiii. 29. | Heb. xi. 13— lift 112 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. revenge ; the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befel them. But the men being patient and not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise blessing, and give good words for bad, and kindness for injuries me men in the fair, that were more observing and Jess prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort, for their continual abuses done by them to the men : they therefore in an angry manner let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling them, that they seemed confed- erates, and should be made partakers of their misi : - The others replied, that, lor aught they could , :he men were quiet and sober, and intended nobo- dy any harra : and that there were many that traded in their fair, that were more , worthy to be put into the e, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus after diverse words had passed on th sides (the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them) they fell to some blows amorg themselves, and did harm one to another. Then were thece two poor men brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains v.p and down the fair, for an example and terror toothers, lest any should speak in their be- half, or join themselves unto them. But Chiistian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and re- ■ -jd the ignominy and sliame that was cast upon them, with so much meekness and patience, that it won to their side (though but lew in comparison cf the rest) several of the men^of the fair. This put the other par- ty yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they conclu- ded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened, that neither cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair. Then were they demanded to the cage again until urther order should he taken with them. So they put tnem in, and made their feet fast in thf stocks. <-;, therefore, ijhey called again to mind, what they had heard from their faithful "friend Evangelist, and THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 1 1 *J were the more confirmed in their ways and sufferings ivhat he told them* would happen to them. They comforted each other, tnat n hose lot it was to suffer, even he sb have the best of it ; therefore man secretly Wished.that he might have that pre* fermei.t : but committing thems« •.-■ the all-wise disposal of Him that ruleth ail things, with con- tent they abode in the condition in • til they should be otherwise disposed Then a convenient time being appoi. them forth to their trial, in order to thei, c When the time was come, they were brough their enemies, and arraigned. The judge's nam<= sv-: Lord Hate-Gocd : their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat vaiying in form ; the contents whereof was this: ' : That they were enemies to, and disturbers of, their trade : that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a paity to their own most dan- gerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prir.ee." Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himseif against that which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And, said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace: the parties that were won to us v were won by beholding cur truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his angels. Then proclamation was made that they that had aught to say for their lord the king, against the piisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Super- stition, and Pickthank : They were then asked, ii they knew the prisoner at the bar : and what they had to say for their lord the king against him ? Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect : My lord, I have known this man a long time and will attest upon my oath before this honorable bench, that he is— Judge. Hold, give him his oath. So they sware him.— Then he said, my lord, thi* K 2 114 man, notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country ; he neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom ; but doeth all that he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the general calls ' firincifiles of faith and holiness* And in particular, I heard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled. By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them. Then did the judge say unto him, Hast thou any more to say ? Envy. My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the court. Yet if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their cidence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will enlarge my testimony against him — So he was bid to stand by. Then they called Superstition, and bid him look up- on the prisoner ; they also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against him ? Then they sware him ; so he began : My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, *\or do 1 desire to have a further knowledge of him ; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that the other day I had with him in this town; for then talking with him, I heard him say that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means plea»e God. Which saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows what neces- sarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do wor- ship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned ; and this is that which I have to say. Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew m the behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar. My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known for a long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoke ; for he huth railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his honorable friends, whose names are the Lord Old THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. J 15 man, the Lord Carnal delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lo.d Desire-of-vain-giory, rny old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with ail the rest ot our nobility ; and he hath said, moreover, that if all men were of Ins mind, if possible there is not one of these noblemen should have any longer a being in this town. Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my lord, who are now ap- pointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly villain, with many other such like viilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town. When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge di- rected his speech to the prisoner at the bat , saying, Thou renegade, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee ! Faith. May I speak a few words in my own defence ? Judge. Sirrah, sirrah, thoudeservest to live no long- er, but to be slain immediately upon the place ; yet that all men may see our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou vile renegade hast to say. Faith. 1 say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here before you to make my recantation. As to the second, to wit, Mr- Superstition and his charge against me, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a divine faith ; but there can be no divine faith without a divine revelation of ihe will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God, that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be done but by an human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. As to what Mr. Pickthank feaili said, I say (avoiding terms, as that 1 am said to rail, and the like) that the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his atten- dants, by this gentleman named, are more fit for being in hell than in this town and country ; and so the Lord have mercy upon me. Then the judge called to the jury, (who all this while stood by to hear and observe) Gentlemen ot the jury. 116 the pilgrim's progress. you see this man, about whom so great an uproar hath been made in this town ; you have also heard, what those worthy gentlemen have witnessed against him ; also you have heard his reply and confession ; it lieth now in your breasts to hang him, or save his life ; but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law. There was an act made in the clays of Pharaoh the great, servant to our prince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply and grow too strong for him, their males should be thrown i'lto the river.* — There was also an act made in the days of Nebuchadnczz the great, another of his servants, that whoever would not fall down and worship his golden image, should be thrown into the fiery furr:ace."t — There was also an act made in the days of Darius, that whoso for some time called upon any God but him should be cast into the lions' den4 Now the substance of these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought (which is not to be borne) but also in word and deed ; which must there- fore needs be intolerable. For that of Pharaoh ; — his law was made upon sus- picion to prevent mischief, no crime yet being apparent ; but here is a crime apparent. For the second and third ; — you see he disputeth against our religion ; and for the t?eason he hath confessed, he deserveth to die the death. Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blind- man, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Headv, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Im- placable ; who every one gave in his private verdict- against him among themselves, and afterwaids unani- mously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge. And first among themselves — Mr. Blindman the foreman, said, * I see clearly, that this man is an her- etic.' Then said P4r No-gocd, ' Away with such a fellow from the earth/ i Ay,' said Mr. Malice, ' for I ^atc the very looks of him.' Then said Mr. Love-lust, * I could never endure him.' * Nor I,' said Mr. Live- loose, * for he would always be condemning my way.' « Hang him, hang him,' said Mr. Heady. * A sorry * Exod. i. t Dao. ill. | Dan. vi. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 11? scrub,' said Mr. High-mind. ' My heart viseth against him/ said Mr. Enmity. ' He is a rogue,' said Mr. Li- ar. - Han . i too good fot him/ said Mr. Cvueity. ' Let i atch him out of the wa>/ said Mr. ilate- . t. Then said Mr. li »le, ' Might 1 hare all th en me, i could - reconciled to him ' ^— therefore let us i thw'ith ring him in guilty of death. And y< . i . -. is presently condemn- ed to be : re he was, to the place from . e To be put to the most cruel death that con:. nted. They th ught him out, to do with him ac- cording to their law ; and first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives ; after that they stoned him with stones, then pricked him with their swords ; and last of all they bur- ned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a chaiiotand a couple of horses waiting for Faithful, who, so soon as his ;es had dispatched him, was ta- ken up into it, and straightway was carried up through the clouds, with sound of trumpet the nearest way to the Cc ;ate. But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was remanded back to prison ; so he there remained for a space : but He that overrules all things, having the power of their rage in his own hsfcd, so brought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them and went his way. And as he went he sang, saying: 'Well, Faithful, then hast faithfully profest Unto thy X;Oid, of* whom tbau shaft be blest: Wbenfaitktess ones, with ?.!! their vain delights .Are crying out under their hellish plights : ig Faithfuf, sing, and let thy name survive ; For though they kill'd thee, thou art yet alive.' Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth ; for there was one whose name was Hopeful (be- • the beholding of Christian and Faithful, . and behaviour in their sufferings at the ■ joined himself unto him ; and, entering into a 113 TEE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. brotherly covenant, told him that he would be his com- panion. Thus one died to bear testimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes to be a companion with Christian in his pilgrimaged This Hopeful also told Christian that there were many more of the men in the fair, that would take their time and follow after. ^ So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the fair, they overtook one that was going before then., whose name was By-ends : so they ssid to him, What countryman, Sir ? arid how far go you this way ? He told them that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name. From Fair-speech ! said Christian : is there any good thing lives there ?* Yes, said By-ends, I hope. Pray, Sir, what may 1 call you ? said Christian. By e. I am a stranger to you, and you to me : if you be going this way, 1 shall be glad of yom company : if not, 1 must be content. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of, and, as I remember, they say it is a wealthy place. By-e. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have very many rich kindred there. Chr. Pray who are your kindred there, if a man may be so bold ? By-e. Almost the whole town ; and, in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech, from whose ancestors that town first took its name : also Mr. Smoothman, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. Any-thing ; and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two- tongues, was my mother's own brother by father's side : and, to tell you the truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my great grandfather was but a water- man, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. Chr. Are you a married man ? By-e. Yes. and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the daughter of a virtuous woman ; she was my lady Feig * Prov. xx r i. -3. THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS ing's daughter, therefore she came of a very honorable iamiiy, an 1 is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to piii ce and pea- sant. It is true we somewhat differ in religion irom those of the stricter SGrt, yet but in two small points : First, we never strive against wind and tide : — Second- ly, we are always most zeaious whea Religion goes in Ins silver slippers ; we love much to walk with him in the street if the sun shines, and the people applaud him. Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, It run* in my miid, that this is one By-ends of Fair-speech ; and if it be he, we have as very a knave in our company as dwelleth in all these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him ; methiuks he should not be ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as if you knew something more than all the world doth ; and if I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you : is not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ? By-e. This is not my name ; but indeed it is a nick- name that is given me, by some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to bear it^-as a reproach, as oth- er good men have borne their's before me. Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men to call you by this name ? By-c. Never, never ! the worst that ever I did to give them an occasion to give me this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was; and my chance was to get thereby. But if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a blessing ; but let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach. Chr. I thought indeed that you were the man that 1 heard of ; and to tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are willing we should think it doth. Bye. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it : you will find me a fair-company keeper, if you will t admit me your associate. Chr, If you will go with us, you must go against wind 120 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. and tide ; the which I perceive, is against your opinion you must also own Religion in his rags as well as when in his silver slippers ; and stand by him too when bound in irons as well as when he walketh the street with applause. By-e. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. C/ir. Not a step further, unless you will do in what I propound as we. Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old prin- ciples, since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I did before you o« vertook me ; even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my company. Then I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful ibrscok him, and kept their distance before him : but one of them looking back, saw three men following Mr. By-ends, and, behold, as they came up with him, he made them a very low congee ; and they also gave him a compliment. The men's names were Mr. Hold-the- world, Mr. Money-love, and Mr. Save-all ; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with ; for in their minority they were school fellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripeman, a school-master in Love-gain, %vhich is a market town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This school-master taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gen- tlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such a school themselves. Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By-ends, who are they upon the road before us ? for Christian and Hope- ful were yet within yiew. By-e. They are a couple of far countrymen, that af- ter tbeir mode are going on pilgrimage. Money. Alas ! why did they not stay, that we might have had their ^ood company? for they, and we, and you, sir, I hope, are going on pilgrimage. By-e. We are so indeed : but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their owu notions, and do al- ;uE PILGRIM'S fXIGGIiLSt-'. 121 so so lightly esteem the opinion of others, that let a man be never so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company. Save. Thai's bad : but we read of some that are righteous over-much, and such men's rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but themselves ; but I pray what and how many were the things wherein you differed ? £y-e. Why they, after their headstrong manner, con- elude that it is their duty to rush on their journey ail weathers ; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for hazarding all for God at a clap, and I am for taking all advantages to secure rny life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men be against them ; but I am for religion in what, and so far as the limes and my safety will bear it. They are for religion when in rags and contempt; but 1 am for him when he walks in his golden slippers, in the sun- shine and with applause. Hold. Ay, and hold you there still, good Mr. By- ends : for my part, I can count him but a fool, tj^t ha- ving the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. — Let us be wise as serpents ; it is best to make hay while the sun-shines ; you see how the bee lieth still in winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain and sometimes sun-shine ; if they be such foola as to go through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that reli- gion best, that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us : for who can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us the good things of this life, but that he would have us keep them for his sake ? Abraham and Solomon grew rich in reli- gion. And Job says, that a good man " shall lay up gold as dust/'but he must not be such as the men be- fore us, if they be as you have described them. Save. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs be no more words about it. Money. No, there needs be no more words about this matter indeed; for he that believes neither scrip- E PILGRIM S PROGRESS. lure nor reason (and you see wc have both on our s] - iiher knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. J}y-e. My brethren, we are, as you see, .going all on pilgrimage, and for our better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this quts- Suppose a man a minister or a tradesman, &c. should hate an advantage lie before him to get the good bles- sings i this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them, except in appearance at least, he becomes ex- traordinary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled net with before — may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest man ? Money. I seethe bottom of your question : arid, with these gentlemen's good leave, 1 will endeavor to shape you an answer. At first, to speak to your question, as it concerns a minister himself. Suppose a minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has i' his eye a greater, more fat and piump by far : he has also now an opportunity of getting it, yet s> as by being more studious, by preaching more frequently and zealously, and, because the temper of the people re- quires it, by altering of some of his principles : for my :t, I see no reason but a man may do this, provided Ijas a call, ay. and more, a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why ! 1. His desire efa greater benefice is lawful; this cannot be contradicted, since it is set before him by Pro- %idence ; so then he may get it if he can, making no ! question for conscience's sake. 2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him jrore studious, a more zealous preacher, Sec. and so I makes him a better man, yea, makes him better im- | prove his parts ; which is according to the mind of God. 3. Now, as for the complying with the temper e people by deserting, to serve them, some of his princi- ples, this argucth that hi i •■: . of a sweet and winning deportment ; and so i for the ministerial function. 4. ? conclude then, that a minister that than] small for a great should not. covetous : but rather, since he is improved in ! THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 123 and industry thereby, be counted as one that pursues hi 5 ut ii.to his hand to do good.^ . now to the se< t j rt of the quest: ... . the tradesman yuu mentioned ; suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the world : but by :oming religious he may in-.-.nU his market, perhaps fe, or more, and fir better customers to ' 'or my part, I see no reason but this may be law.'- 3 h) ? 1. To become religious 'is a virtue, by what mean? soever a man becomes so, 2. Ncrisit'unl -e, cr more cus- tom to my shop. 3. Besides, the man ts tl ese by becoming re- gets that which is good, of them that are good, mvg good himself; so then here is a good wife, >d customers, and good gain, and all these by igious, which is good ; therefore, to becom'd (Us to get all V ■ se is a good and profitable design. Tins a 3 - . thus made by Mr. Money-love to Mr. By-end's que-' s highly applauded by them all ; re. they concluded upon the whole that it was holesome and advantageous. Att4 because, as thi j y thought no man was able to contradict it, and be- cause Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, they ttly agreed to assault them with this question as scon as they overtook them ; and the rather, because they opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they called after them, and they stopped, and stood still till they came up t they concluded as they went, that not Mr, old Mr. Hokl-the-world should propound the ■ to them: because, as they supposed, their a would, be without the remainder of that heat between Mr. By- ends and them a little before. up to each other, and after a short salu- te- world propounded the question to ~tia:i and his fellow, and bid them answer it if they Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may an- ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlaw- : fellow Christ for loaves, as it is, John vi. how 124 much more abominable is it to make of him and rciigioii a stalking horse, to get and enjoy the world ? Nor do we find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and witches, that arc of this opinion. ^Heathens: for when Hamor and Sheckhem had a mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that there were no ways for them to come at them, but by becoming circumcised ; they say to their companions, " If every male of us be circumcised, as they are cir- cumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs be ours?" Their daughters and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their religion the stalking-horse they made use cf to com 3 at them. Read the whole story, Genesis ::xiv. 20—24. Tiie hypocritical Pharisees were also of this reli- gion : long prayers were their pretence; but to g clows'- houses was their intent, and greater damnation from God was their judgment.* Judas the devil was also of this religion: he ligious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was then in ; but he was lost, a cast-away, and the very son of perdition. Simon the witch was of this religion too : for ha would have bad the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith ; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was accordingly. t Neither will it go out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world, will throw away re- ligion for the world ; for so surely as Judas desired the world in becoming religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To answer the question therefore affirmatively, as 1 perceive you have done, anrl to accept of, as authentic, such answer, is both heathenish, hypocritical, and devilish ; and your reward will be according to your works. Then they stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith to answer Christian. Hopeful also approved of the sound- ness of Christian's answer ; so there was a great silence among them. Mr By-ends and his company also stag- gered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful * Luke xx. 46, 47. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 125 might outgo them. Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand before the sentence of men, what will they do with the sentence of God ? And, if they are mute when dealt with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire ? Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came to a delicate plain called Ease; where they went with much content : but that plain was narrow, so they were quickly got over it. Now at the further side of that plain was a little Hill called Lucre, and in that hill a silver mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity ot it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the brim of the pit, the ground, being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain : some also had been maim- ed there, and could not, to their dying day, be their own men again. Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the road, o- ver against the silver mine, stood Demas (gentleman- like) to call passengers to come and see ; who said to Christian and his fellow, Ho, turn aside hither, and I will show you a thing. Chr. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it ? Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in it for treasure ; if you will come, with a little pains you may richly provide for yourselves. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see. Not I, said Christian ; I have heard of this place be- fore now, and how many have been slain there ; and be- sides, that treasure is a snare to those that seek it ; for it hindereth them in their pilgrimage. Then Christian called to Demas, saying, is not the place dangerous ? hath it not hindered many in their pilgrimage ? Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless. But withal he blushed as he spake. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still keep on ©ur way. Hofie. I will warrant you, when By-emls comes up,if L 2 126 fHE PILGRIM'S PR03»ffS3, he hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thith- er to see. Ckr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that way, and a hunched to one but he dies there. Then Dtmas called again, saying, but will you not come over and see ? Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy to the right ways of the Lord of this way, and hast been already condemned, for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges :* and why seekest thou to bring us into the same condemna- tion ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we should stand with boldness before him. f Demas cried again, That he also was one of their fraternity ; and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself would walk with them. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? Is it not the same by which I have called thee ? Dcutas. Yes, my name is Demas ; I am the son of Abraham. Chr. I know you : Gehazi was your great grandfath- er, and Judas your father, and you have trod in their steps; it is but a devilish prank that thou usest : thy futher was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward.f Assure thyself, that when we come to the King, we will tell him of this thy behaviour. Thus they went their way. By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and they at the first beck went o^er to Demas. Now, whether they fell into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom, by the damps that commonly arise of these things, I am not certain ; but this I observed, that they never were seen again in the way.— Then sang Chris- tian : ' By-ends and silver Denias did agree ; One calls, the other runs, that he may be • 2 Tim. ir. 10. f Kings v. 20—27. Matt. xxri. 14, W> xxYii. 3— 5, the pilgrim's progress. 127 A sharer fa his lucre : so the«c do Take up in this world, and no further go.' Now I saw, that, just on the other side of this plain,' the pilgiimscame to a place where stood an old monu- ment, hard by the way side, at the sight ot which they were both concerned, because of the strangeness ot the form thereof, for it seemed to them as if it had been a woman transformed into the shape of a pillar. Here therefore they stood looking, and looking upon it , but could not for a time tell what they should make thereof: at last Hopeful spied written upon the head thereof, a "writing in an unusual hand ; but he, being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning : so he came, ;md alter a little laying of the letters together, he found the same to be this : " Remember Lot's wife." So he read it to his fellow ; after which they both concluded, that this ■was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was turned, for looking back with a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety.* Which sudden and a- mazing sight gave them occasion for this discourse : Chr. Ah, my brother ! this is a seasonable sight : it came opportunely to us after the hvitation. which De- mas gave us to come over to view the hill Lucre ; and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast in- clined to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to behold. Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as Lot's wife ; for where- in was the difference between her sin and mine ? she only looked back, and I had a desire to go see : let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in mine heart. Chr. Let us take notice of what we see here for our help for time to come: this woman escaped one judg- ment ; for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom, yet she was destroyed by another, as we see. she is turned in- to a pillar of salt. Hope, True* and she may be to us both caution and * Gen. xix. 26. 128 THE riL6R]M'8 PROGRESS. example ; caution that we should shun her sin ; or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented by such caution ; so Corah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men that perish- ed in their sin, did also become a sign or example to beware.* But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking behind her after (for we read not that she stept one foot out of the way) was turned into a pillar of salt ; especially since the judgment which overtook her, did make her an example within sight of where they are : for they cannot but choose to see her, did they but lift up their eyes. Chr. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts are grown desperate in that case ; and I cannot tell whom to compare them to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets in the presence of the judge, or that will cut purses under the gallows. It is said of the men of Sodom, that they were sinners exceedingly, w because they were sinners before the Lord," that is, in his eye-sight, and notwithstanding the kindness that he had showed them ; for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden heretofore-! This therefore provoked him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire of the Lord out of heaven could make it. And it is most rationally to be concluded, that such, even such as these are, who shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such examples as are set continually before them, to caution them tot he contrary, must be partakers of the severest judgment. Nope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth : but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made myself this example ! This mmistereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear before him, and always to * remember Lot's wife." I saw then, that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David the king called " the river of God ;" but John, " the river of the water of life.":}: Now their way lay just upon tHIfcank of the river : here therefore * Kum. sxvi. 9. 10. t Gen. xiii. 10—13. J Ps. Ixv< 9. Ezek. xJvii. 1. Rev. xxii. 1. 129 Christian and his companion walked with great delight : ihey drank also of the water of the liver, which was pleasant, and enlivening: to their weary spirits. Be- tides, oa the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees, for all manner cf fruit : and the leaves hey ate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are inci- dent to those that heat their blood by travels. On eith- er side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beau- tified with lilies ; and it was green all the year long. In this meadow they lay down and slept : for here they might lie down safely.* When they awoke, they g cred again of the fruits of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang : ' BehoM ye how those crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the highway side. The meadows green, besides the fragrant smell, Yield dainties ibrthem : And he that e;m tell What pleasant fruit, yea leaves, these trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that he may buy thh field.' So when they were disposed to go on (for they were r,ot as yet at their journey's end) they ate, and drank, and departed. Nov.- I beheld in my dreams, that they had not journ- eyed far but the river and the way for a time parted ; bich they were not a little sorry, yet they durst not out of the way. Now the way from the river was rough and their feet tender by reason of their travels : no the souls of the pilgrims were much discouraged be- cause cf the way.f Wherefore still as they went on, .they wished for better way. Now a little before them, 'here was on the left hat el of the road a meadow, and a ^ti!e to go over into it ; and that meadow is called By- path meadow. Then said Christian to his fellow, If 'his meadow lieth along by cur way-side let us go over into it. Then he went to the stile to see, and, behold, a path lay alon^ by the way on the other side of the fence. It is according to my wish, said Christian ; here is the . s v, 30, \ Xum. xxi. 4. 130 easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go o- \ But how if this path should lead us out ol the way? Thai'gjjpt likely, said the other. Lo',k, doth it not Jong by the I — So Hopeful) being per- ded by his fellow, went after him over the stile. When they were gprie ever, and were got into the p£th, y found it very easy tor their ftet, ;md, withal, they looking before tbens spied a man walking as they did, and his name was ~ I nfidence : so they catted af- ter ! . sked him whither that way led ? He said, to' tin Look, said Christian, did not I ycu so ? by this you may see we arc right i so they befgre them. But, behold, the ttne on, and it £rew v • ; so that they that ! be sight of hrrrfthat went before. . that went before (Yam-confidence by way before him, feel into a deep as on purpose there made by the prince of . to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and pieces with his fall. and his fellow heard him fall : so they tter : hut there was none to ar- ming. Then said Hopeful, ilicn was his ft : !ow silent, as I led him out of the way. And now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten, in a most er; and the waters rose amain. Then Hopeful groaned |n himself, saying, Oh, that I had kept i Pay !' Chr Who could have thought that this path should k ! d usoi.t of the way ? Hofie. I was afraid on't at the very first, and therefore gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but you are older than I. Cnr Good brother, be not offended ; I am sorry T have brought thee out of the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger : pray, my brothe me ; I did not do it of an evil intent. : a. ix. !<•. THE PILGRIM'S FKOGitESS. 131 Jlo/ie. Be com orted, my brother, for I forgive thee ; and believe too, that this shall be for good. C/'ir. 1 am glad J have with me a merciful brother : but we must not stand thus ; let us try to go back again. Jffofie. Rut, good brother, let me go before. Chr. No, if you please, let me go first, that if .here be any danger 1 may be first therein : because by my means we are both gone cut of the way. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first ; for your mind being troubled, may lead you out of the way again. Then for their encouragement, tiny heard the voice cf one saying, Let thine heart be towards the highway ; e- ven the way that thou Wentest turn again."* But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which, the way of going back was very dangerous, (Then 1 thought that it wss easier going out of the way when we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back ; but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going back they had like to have been drowned, nine or ten times. Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get a» gain to the stile that night. Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there, till the day- break : but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called -Doubting Castle, '. ..e owner whereof was Gi ) spair : and it was in his grounds they were now slee- ping. Whereof he getting r.p in the morning early, and walking up and down in his Hekls, caught Chris- tian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then wi< grim and surly 'voice,, he bid them awake, and ask them whence they were, and what they did in his grounds ? They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the giant, You have this night trespassed on me, by trampling in, and Jyi.:g o- my ground, and therefore you must go along i \ me. So they were forred to go, because he was n they. They also had hut little to say ; ! they knew themselves in a fault The giant, there- fore, drove them before him, and put them into his cas- tle in a \cry dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spi- * Jcr. xxxi. ?! lo*2 *HE PILGRIM'S PR0GRE8S. i its of these two men. Here then they lay, from Wed- nesday morning till Saturday night, without one bil i bread, or drop of drink, or light or any to ask how tttf y did: they were therefore, nere in evil case, and weic far from friends and acquaintance.* Now in this plu< c Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this dis- tress. Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was DirP.dence : so when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done : -to wit, that he had taken a ccu- ple of prisoners, tmd cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also, what he had best do further to them. So she asked what they were, whence they tame, and whither they were bound — and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in the morning, he should beat them without mercy. So when he arose, he getteth a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dun- geon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they were dogs, although they never gave him a word of distaste : then he falls upon, them, and beat them ftariully, in such sort, that they were not able to help themselves, or turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws, and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to mourn uncles their distress : so all that day they spent their time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentation's. The next night she talked with her husband about then further, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel thtm to make away themselves : so when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner as before, and, per- ceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them the day before, he told them that, since they were never like to come out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of them- selves, either with knife, halter, or poison : for why, said he, should you choose life, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness ? But they desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of the m * Psal, Ixxxviii. 8. 133 himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he some- times in sun-shiny weather teli into fits) and lost for a time the use of his hand. Wherefore he withdrew, and left them a3 before to consider what to cto. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it was best to take his counsel or no; and thus they be- gan to discourse : Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? The life that we now live is miserable ! for my part, I know not whether it is best to live thus, or die out of hand ; M my soul chooselh strangling rather than life,"** and the grave is more easy for me than this dungeon ! Shall we be ruled by the giant ? Hope. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far more welcome to me, than thus for ever to abide : but yet let us consider; the Lord of the country to which we are going nath said, u Thou shalt do no murder :" no, not to another man's person ; much more then are we forbidden to take the giant's counsel, to kill ourselves. Besides, he that kills another, can but commit murder upon his body : but, for one to kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once. And moreo- ver, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave, but hast thou forgotten the hell whither for certain the mur- derers go ? for " no murderer hath eternal life," &c. And let us consider again, that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair : others, so far as I can under- stand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped outoflhis hands. Who knows but that God, who made the world, may cause that Giant Des- pair may die, or that, at some time or other, he may for- get to lock us in ; or that he may in a short time have another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs ? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from undor his hand. I was a fool that 1 did not try to do it before ; but how- ever, my brother, let us be patient, and endure a while ; the time may com* that may give us a happy release : but let usnot be our own murderers. With these words Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his broth- *Jobvii. 15. M 134 the pilgrim's progress. cr ; so they continued together, in the dark, that day in their sad and doleful condition. Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners iud taken his coun- sel : but when he came there, he found them alive ; and, truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds they re- ceived when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive ; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that, seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born. At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Chris- tian "fell into a swoon ; but, coming a little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take it or no. Now Christian a^ain seemed to be for doing it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth : My brother, said he, remt mberest thou not how val- iant thou hast been heretofore ? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou couldst hear, or see, or feel, in the valley of the Shadow of Death : what hardship, terror, and amazement, hast thou already gone through, and art thou new nothing but fears ? Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art ; also the giant has woun- ded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth, and with that I mourn with- out the light. But let us exercise a little more pa- tience : remember how thou playedst the man at Van- ity-fair, and was neither afraid of the chain or cage, nor yet of bloody death : wherefore, let us, at least, to a- void the shame that becomes not a Christian to be found in, bear up, with patience as well as we can. Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the pris- oners, and if they had taken his counsel : — to which he replied, They are sturdy rogues : they choose rather to bear all hardship rather than to make away them- selves Then said she, Take them into the castle- vse thou hast already despatched, and make them he- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 135 lieve, ere a week comes to an end, thou also will tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. So when the morning was come the giant goes to them again and takes them into the castle yard, and shows them, as his wife had bidden him : These, said he, were pilgrims, as you are, once; and they trespas- sed in my grounds, as you have done ; and when I thought fit i tore them in pieces, and so within ten days I will do you : get you down into your den again : — and with that he beat them all the way thither. They lay therefore all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before. Now, when night was come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband the giant were got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners ; and, withal, the old giant wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them to an end. And with that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hopes that some will come to relieve them, or that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear ? said the giant ; 1 will therefore search them in the morning. Well, on Saturday about midnight they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day. Now a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed, brake out in this passionate speech : What a fool, quoth hs, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty ? I have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hope- ful, That's good news, good brother, plucji. it out of thy bosom and try. Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the dungeon door ; whose bolt as he turned the key, gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out Then he went to the outward door that leads into the Castle-yard, and with his key opened that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened too, but that lock went very hard ; yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with 136 speed ; but that gate as it opened, made such a crack- ing, that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising to pursue his prisoners felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the king's highway, and so were safe,because they were out of his jurisdiction. Now when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that should come after from fall- ing into the hand of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side . thereof this sentence, ' Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the king of the celestial country, and seeks to destroy the holy pilgrims.' M my therefore that follow- ed after, read what was written and escaped the danger. — This done, they sang as follows : * Out of the way we went, and then we found What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground : And let them that come after have a care } Lest they for trespassing his pris'ners are V Whose castle's Loubting, and whose name's Despair.' ) They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains ; which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill, of which we have spoken before ; so they went up the mountain*, to behold the gardens and orchards, the Tineyards and fountains of water: where* also they drank and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vine- yards. Now there were on the tops of these moun- tains, shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves ^as is common with weary pilgrims when they stand to talk with any by the way) they asked, * Whose Delectable Moun- tains are these ? and whose be the sheep that feed upon them ? Shep. The mountains are Emmanuel's Land, and they dvr within sight of his city ; and the sheep also are his> and he laid down his life for them. Chr Is this the way to the Celestial city ? Shep, You pre just in the way. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 137 Chr. How far is it thither ? Shefi. Too far for any, but those that shall get thither indeed. Chr. Is the way safe or dangerous ? Sheji. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; " but transgressors shall full therein."* Chr. Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims, that are weary and faint in the way ? Shefi. The Lord of these mountains hath giver us a charge not to be forgetful to entertain strangers ;"t therefore the good of the place is before you. I also saw in my dream, that, when the Shepherds perceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put questions to them (lo which they made answer, as in other places) as, Whence came you ? and, how got you into the way ? and by what means have you so perse- vered therein ? for, but few of them that begin to come hither, do show their faces on this mountain. But when the shepherds heard their answers, being pleased there- with, they looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable Mountains The shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sincere, took tnem by the hand, and had them to their tents, and made them par- take of that which was ready at present. They said, moreover, We would that you should stay here awhile, to be acquainted with us, and yet more to solace your- selves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. They then told them, that they were content to stay : so they went to their rest that night, because it was ve- ry late. Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the shepherds called up Christian and Hopeful, to walk with them upon the mountains : so they went forth with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant prospect on every side. Then said the shepherds one to another, Shall we show these pilgrims some wonders? So, when they had concluded to do it, they had them firtt to the top of an hill, called Error, which was very steep on the further side, and b : d them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful looked down, and saw at the * Hos. xiv. 9, f Heb. xiii. 1, 2. M2 138 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. bottom several men dashed all to pieces, by a fall that they had trom the top. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? The shepherds answered, Have you not heard of them that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymeneus, and Phrtetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrection of the body ? They answered, Yea. Then said the shepherds. Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are they ; and they have continued to this day unburied, as you see, for example to others to take heed how they clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink of this mountain. Then I saw they had them to the top of another mountain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off : which when they did, they percei- ved, as they thought, several men walking up and down among the tombs that were there : and they perceived that the men were blind, because they stumbled some- times upon the tombs, and because they could not get out from among them. Then said Christian what means this ? The shepherds then answered, Did you not see a lit- tle below these mountains, a stile that leads into a mea- dow, on the left hand of this way ? They answered, Yes. Then said the shepherds, From that stile there goes a path, that leads Directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, and these men (pointing to them among the tomks) came once on pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that same stile. And, be- cause the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into Doubting Castle; where, after they had awhile been kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those tombs, where he had left them to wander to this very day, that the saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, « He that wandereth out of the way of understanding, shall remain in the congregation of the dead."f Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the Shep- herds. *2 Tim. u. 17, 18. f Prov. xxi. 16, TH8 FILGRIM's PROGRESS. 139 Then I saw in ray dream that the shepherds had them to another place in a bottom, where was a dooi in the side of an hiii, and they opened the door, and bid tht m look Li. They looked in therefore, and saw that with- in it was rery dark and smoky ; tney also thought that they heard there a rumbling noise, as of fire, and a cry of some tormented ; and' that they smelt the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, What means this ? The shepherds told them, This is a by-way to hell, a way that hypocrites go in at; namely, such as seil their birth-right, with Esau; such as sell their Master, with Judas ; such as blaspheme the gospel, with Alexan- der ; and that lie and dissemble, with Annanias and Sapphira his wife. Then said Hopeful to the shepherds, I perceive that these had on them, even every one, a show of pilgrim- age, as we have now ; had they not ? Shefi, Yea, and held it a long time tco. Hope. How far might thry go on in pilgrimage in their days, since they notwithstanding were thus miser- ably cast away ? S/ic/i. Some further, and some not so far as these mountains. Then said the pilgrims one to another, We had need to cry to the strong for strength. Shefi. Ay, and you will have need to use it when you have it, too. By this time the pilgrims had a desire to go for- wards, and the shepherds a desire they should ; so they walked together towards the end of the mountains. Then said the shepherds one to another, Let usht-c show the pilgrims the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill to look through our prospective glass. The Pilgrims then lovingly accepted the motion : so they had them to the top of an high hill, called Clear, and gave them the glass to look. Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of the last thing, that the shepherds had showed them made their hands shake; by means of which impedi- ment, they could not look steadily through the glass ; yet thought they saw something like the gate, and also 140 the pilgrim's progress. some of the glory of the place. Then they went away, anu sang this song : 1 Thus by the shepherds secrets are reveal'd, Which from all other men are ktp^onceal'd i Come to the shepherds then, if you would see Things deep, things hid, and tnat mysterious be.' When they were about to depart, one of the shep- herds gave them a note of the %vuy. Another of them bid them beware of the flatterer. The third bid them take heed that they slee/i not ufion the enchanted ground. And the fourth bid them good speed. So I awoke from my dream. And I slept and dreamed again, and saw the same two pilgrims going down the mountains, along the high- way towards the city. Now a little below these moun- tains on the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit, from which country there comes into the way in which the pilgrims walked, a little crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk lad, that came out of that country, and his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked him from what parts he came, and whither he was going ? Ignor. Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off there a little on the left hand, and am going to the Ce- lestial city. Chr. But how do you think to get in at the-gate ? for you may find some difficulties theie. As other good people do, said he. Chr But what have you to show at that gate, that may cause that gate to be opened to you ? Ignor. I know my Lord's will, and have been a good liver ; I pay every man his own ; I pr^y, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my country for whither I am going. Chr. But thou earnest not in at the wicket gate that is at the head of this way ; thou earnest in hither through that §ame crooked lane, and therefore I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the reckoning-day shall forae, thou wilt have laid to thy charge, that thou art ?l\ tluVf and a robber, instead of getting admittance into the city. 141 Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me, I know you not ; be content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow the religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And, as for the gate that you talk of, ail the world knows, that that is a great way off of our com. try. I cannot think that any men in all our parts do so much as knew the way to it, nor need they mat- ter whether they do or no ; since we have as you see, a fine pleasant green lane that comes down from our coun- try the. nearest way. When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own conceit, he said to Hopeful whispcringly, " There is more hope of a fool than <;f him ;*'* and said moreo- ver, " When he that is a fool walketh by the way, his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool."f What, shall we talk further with him, or out- go him at present, and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then stop again for him after- wards, and see if by degrees we can do any good by him ? Then said Hopeful, ' Let ignorance a little while now muse On what is said, and let him not refuse Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain Still ignorant of what's the chieiest gain. God saith, those that no understanding have, Although he made them, thera he will not save/ He further added, it is not good, I think, to say to him all at once ; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he is " able to bear it." So they both went on, and Ignorance came after. Now when they had passed him a little way, they en- tered into a very dark lane, where they met a man whom seven devils had hound with sevemstrong cords, and were carrying him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill \ Now good Christian began to treable, and so did Hopeful his companion : yet as the • ! s led away the man, Christian looked to so- if he knew him ; and he thought it might be one Turr-av that dwelt in the town of Apostacy. But he c^id not * Prov. xxvi. 12. f Eccles. x. 3. tit. xii. 45. Prov. v. 22. 142 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. perfectly see his face ; for he did- hang his head like a thief that is found. But being gone past, Hopeful ioo- ked after him, and espied en his back a paper with this inscription, ' Wanton professor, and damnable apos- tate/ Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remembrance that which was told me, of a thing that happened to a man hereabout. The name r r the man was Little-faith ; but a good, man and dwelt in the town of Sincere. The thing was this : — at the entering in at this passage, there come down from Broad-way- gate, a lane, called Dead-man's lane : so called, be- cause of the murders that are commonly done there ; and this Little-faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit down there and slept : new there happen- ed at that time to come down the lane from Broad-way- gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were Faint- heart, Mistrust and Guilt, three brothers ; and they es- pying Little-Faith where he was, came galloping up with speed. Nov/ the good man was just awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his journey. So they came up ail to him, and with threatening lan- guage bid him stand. At this Little faith looked as white as a clout, and had neither power to fight nor ilee. Then said Faint-heart, ■ Deliver thy purse ;' but he making no haste to do it, (for he was loth to lose his money,) Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled out thence a hag of silver. Then he cried out 'Thieves! thieves 1' With that Guilt, with a great club that was in his hand, struck Little-faith on the head and with that blow felled him flat to the ground ; where he lay bleeding, as one that would bleed to death. All this while the thieves stood by. But at last, they hearing that some were upon the road, and fearing" lest it should be one Great-grace, that dwells in the city of Good-confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left this good man to shift for himself; who, getting up, made shift to scramble or. his ,vav — This was the story. Hofie. But did they take from him all that ever he had ? Chr. No : the place where his jewels were, they ne- ver ransacked : so these he kept still. But, as 1 was the pilgrim's progress. 14^ told, the good man was much afflicted for his loss ; for the thieves got most of his spending money. That which they got not, as I said, were jewels : also he had a little odd money left, but scarce enough to bring him to his journey's end;* nay, if I was not misinformed* lie was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself alive (for his jewels he might not sell.) But beg and do what he could, ' he went,' as we say, ' v\ith many a hungry belly,' the most part of the rest of the way. Hofie. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by which he was to receive his admit- tance at the Celestial gate ? Chr, It is a wonder : but they got not that ; though they missed it not through any good cunning of his ; for he, being dismayed with their commg upon him, had neither power nor skill to bids any thing, so it was more by good providence than by his endeavor, that they missed of that good thing. f Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that they got not his jewels from him. Chr. It might have been 'jreat comfort to him, had he used it as he should ; but they who told me the sto- ry, said, that he made but little use of it at all the rest of the way ; and that, because of the dismay that he had in the taking away his money. Indeed he forgot it a great part of the rest of his journey ; and besides, when at any time it came into his mind, and he began to be comforted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his loss come again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow up ail. Hofie. Alas, poor man I this could not but be a great grief unto hi Chr. Grief? ay, a grief indeed. Would it not have been so to any of us, had we been used as he, to be robbed and wounded too, and thac in a stnmge place, as he was ? It is a wonder he did not die with grief, poor heart : 1 was told he scattered almost all the rest of the way, with nothing but doleful and bitter complaints : telling also to all who overtook him, or that he over- took in the way as he went, where he was robbrd, and how : who they were that did it, and what he lost ; how *lPet.m!8i f 2 Tiro, i. 14. 2Pet.ii. 0. 144 the pilqrLm's progress. he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with his hfe. Hojie. But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put him upon selling or pawning some of his jewels, that he might have wherewith to relieve himself in his journey. Chr. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the sheii to this very day : for what should he pawn them ? or to wnom should he sell them ? In all that country where he was robbed, his jewels were not accounted of; nor did he want that relief which could from thence be administered to him. Besides, had his jewels been missing at the gate of the Celestial city, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from an inherit- ance there, and that would have been worse to him than the appeatance and villany often thousand thieves. Hofie. Why art thou so tart, my brother ? Esau sold his birthright, and that for a mess of pottage ;* and that birth-right, was his greatest jewel : and, if he, why might not Little-faith do so too ? Chr. Esau did sell his birth-right indeed, and so do many besides, and by so doing, exclude themselves from the chief blessing ; as also that caitiff did : but you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little- faith, and also betwixt their estates. Esau's birth-right was typical, but Li'tle-iaith's jewels were not so. Esau's belly was his god, but Little -faith's belly was not so. E- sau's want lay in his fleshly appetite, Little-faith's did not so. Besides Esau could see no further than to the fulfilling of his lust : " For 1 am at the point to die," said he, " and what good will this birth right do me ?"f But Little-frith, though it was his lot to have but a little faith, was by hi** little faith kept from such extravagan- cies, and made to see and prize his jewels more, than to sell them as Esau did his birth-right. You read not any where that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a lit- tle ; therefore no marvel, if where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that man where no faith is, to resist) if heselis his birth right and his soul and all, and that to the devil of hell : for it is with such as it is with the ass, ({ who in her occasions cannot be turned away :"$ when * Heb. xii. 16. f Gen. xxr. 29—34. J Jer. ii. 24. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS^ 14j cheir minds are set upon theii lusts, they will have them, whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of ano- ther temper, his mind was on things divine ; his liveli- hood was upon things that were spiritual and from a- bove ; therefore to what end should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels (had there been any that would have bought them) to fill his mind with empty thi.igs ? Will a man give a penny to fill his belly with hay ? Or can you persuade the turtle dove to live upon carrion like the crow ? Though faithless ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn, or mortgage, or sell wnat they have, and themselves outright to boot, yet they that nave faith, sa- ving faith, though but little of it, cannot do so. Here, therefore, my brother, is thy mistake. Hofie. I acknowledge it ; but yet your severe reflec- tion had almost made me angry. C/ir. Why ! I did but compare thee to some of the birds that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in untrodden paths, with the shell upon their head : — but pass by that, and consider the matter undei de- bate, and all shall be well betwixt thee and me. Hofie. But Christian, these three fellows, I am per- suaded in my heart, are but a company of cowards : would they have run else, think you, as they did, at the noise of one that was coming on the road ? Why did not Little- faith pluck up a greater heart ? He might methinks, have stood one brush with them, and have yielded, when there had been no remedy. Chr. That they are cowards, many have said, but few have found it so in the time of trial. A.s for a great heart. Little-faith had none ; and I perceive by thee, rny brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And verily, since this is the height of thy stomach, now they are at a dis- tance from us, should they appear to thee, as they did to him, they might put thee to second thoughts. But consider again, they are but journeymen thieves-, they serve under the king of the bottomless pit ; who if need be, will come to their aid himself, and his voice is as the x"oadug of a Hon.* I myself have been engaged as this Little-faith was ; and I found it a terrible thing-. * 1 Pet. vi. 8. N 146 These three villains sot upon me, and I beginning like a Christian to resist, they gave out a call, and in came their master : I would, as the saying is, have given my life for a penny ; but that, as God would have it, I was clothed with armor of proof. Ay, and yet, though I was so harnessed, I found it hard work to quit myself like a man : no man can tell what in that combat at- tends us, but he that hath been in the combat himself. Hjjie. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one Great-grace was in the way. "j Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-grace hath appeared ; and no mar- Tel, for he is the kind's champion : but, 1 trow, you will put some difference between Little-faith and the King's champion. All the king's subjects are not hischampi- uns ; nor can they, when tried, do such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that a little child should handle Goliah as David did i or that there should be the strength of an ox in a wren ? Some are strong, some are weak; some have great faith, some have little ; this man was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the wall. Hope. I would it had been Great-grace, for his sake. Chr If it had been he, he might have had his hands full : for I must tell you, that though Great-grace is ex- cellent good at his weapon, and has, and can, so long as he keeps them at swot d's point, do well _ enough with them, yet if they get within him, even Faint-heart, Mis- trust, or the other, it will go hard, but that they will throw up his heels: and when a man is down, yow. know, what can he do ? Whoso looks well upon Great-graced fare, shall see those scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demon- strations of what I say. Yea, once 1 heard that he should say (and that whrn he was in the combat) * We despai- red even of life." How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar ? Yea, Herman md Hezekiah too, though champions in their days, were forced to bestir them, when by these assaul- ted ; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soun- dly brushed by them. Peter, upon a time, would go try what he could do ; but though some do say of him, that he is the prince of the apostles, they handled him so. that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 147 Besides, their king is at their whistle ; he is never out ot hearing : and if at any time they be put *.o the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help them : and of him it is said, " the sword of him that layeth at him can- not hold ; the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon ; he esteemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood : the arro w cannot make him flee, sling stones are turned, with him into stubble ; darts are counted as stubble ; he laughed at the shaking of a spear."* What can a man do in this case ? it is true, if a man could at every turn have Job's horse, and had skill and courage to ride him, he might do notable things ; for " his neck is clothed with thunder ; he will not be afraid as a grass-hopper ; the glory of his nostrils is terrible ; he paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength, he goeth on to meet the armed men : he mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth he back from the sword : the quiver rattleth against him, the glittering spear and the shield : he swalloweth the ground with fierceness ancl rage, neither believeth he that it is the sound cf the trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha j and he smelteth the battle afar off, the thunder of the cap- tains and the shoutings."! But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with any enemy, nor vaunt as if we ccukl do better, when we hear of others that they have been toiled; nor be tickled at the thought of our own man- hood, for such commonly come by the worst when tri« ed. Peter, of whom I made mention before, he would swagger, ay, he would ; he would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and stand more for his master than all men : but who so foiled and run down by those villains as he ? When therefore we hear that such robberies are done on the king's highway, two things become us to do: first, to go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield with us; for it was for want of that, that he that laid so lustily at Leviathan, could not make him yield ; for, indeed, if that be wanted, he fears us not at all. Therefore he that had skill, hath said, " above all, take * Job xli. 26—20, f Job xxxix. 19—25. 148 THE PILGRIM'S PR0GRE9S. the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quencli all the fiery darts of the wicked/'* It is good also that we desire of the King a convoy, that he will go with us himself. This made David re- joice when in the valley of the Shadow of Death ; and Moses was rather for dying where he stood than to go one step without his God.f O my brother, if he will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten thousand that shall set themselves against us ? but without him " the prou J helpers fall under the slain."J I, tor my part, have been in the fray before now ; and though, through the goodness of him that is best, I am, as you see, alive, yet I cannot boast of any man- hood. Glad shall I be if 1 meet with no more such bmnts ; though I fear we are not got beyond all danger. However, since the lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will deliver us from the nest uncircumcised Philistines. Then sang Christian — 4 Poor Little Faith * hast been amung the thieves ? Wast robb'd ? Fernember this, whoso believes, And get luore faith, then shall you victors be Over ten thousands, else scarce over three.' So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then till they came at a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, and seemed withal to lie as strait as the way which they should go ; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seem- ed strait before them : therefore here they stood still to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold, a man of bjack flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came to them, and asked them, why they stood there ? They answered, They were a going to the Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. * Follow me,' says the man, * it is thither that I am going.' So they followed him in the way that but now came into the road, which by degrees turned and turned them so from the city that they desired to go to, that in a little time their faces were turned away from it : yet they followed him. But by and by, before En'i . vi. 16. f Ksod. xxxiii. \5. t Psalna iii. 5—8 ■sxvii. 1 — 3. lsa. x. 4. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 149 they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they were both so entangled, that they knew not what to do : and with that, the white roue fell off the black man's back: then they saw where they were. Wherefore there they lay crying some time t for they could not get themselves out. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see my- self in an error. Did not the Shepherds bid us beware of the flatterers ? Asi9 the saying of the wise mx>> sq have we lound it this day, " A man that flattereth his neighbor, spreadeth a net for his feet."* Hofie. They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more sure finding thereof; but herein we have also forgotten to read, and have not kept our- selves from the paths of the destroyer." Here David was wiser than we ; for saith he, " concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips, I have kept me from the paths of the destroyer."! Thus they lay be- wailing themselves in the net. — At kst they spied a shi- ning one coming towards them, with a whip of small cords in his hand. When he was come to the place where they were, he asked them, whence they came, and what they did there ? They told him, that they were poor pilgrims going to Zi ;n, but were led out of their way by a black man clothed in white, who bid us. said they, follow him, for he was going thither too. Then said he with the whip, it is a flatterer, * a false apostle, that hatn transformed himself into an angel of light."$ So he rent the net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, Follow me, that 1 may set you in the way again : so he led them back to tne way which they had left to follow the flatterer. Then he asked them, s v- in^, Where did you lie the last night ? They said, With the shepherds upon the Delectable Mountains. He as- ked them then, if they had not a note of direction for the way ? They answered. Yes. But did you, said he, when yon were at a stand, pluck out and read your note? Thi'y answered, No. He asked them, Why ? They saici, they forgot. He ssked moreover, If the shenherrls did not bid them be wire of the flatterer ? They answer- * Prov x?rix. 5. f Psal. xvii, 4. $2 Cor. xi. 13, 14. f Dan. xi. 32. N 2 150 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. ed, YeB ; but we did not imagine, said they, that this fine spoken man had been he.* Then I saw in my dieam, that he commanded them to lie down ;f which when they did, he chastised them sore, to teach them the good way wherein they should walk:! and, as he chastised them, he said, M As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous, theiefore, and repent."§ This done, he bid them go on their way, and take good heed to the other directions of the shep- herds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way, singing— * Come hither, you that walk along the way, See how the pilgrims fare that go astray : They catched are in an entangliug net, 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget : "Tis true, they rescu*d were ; but yet, you see, They're scourg'd to boot : — let this your caution be.' Now after a while, they perceived afar off, one coming softly, alone, all along the highway, to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow, Yonder is a man with his back towards Zion, and he is coming to meet us. Hope . I see him ; let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove a flatterer also. So he drew nea- rer and nearer, and at last came up to them. His name was Atheist \ and he asked them whither they were going ? Chr. We are going to mount Zion. Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter. Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter ? Ath I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so ridiculous a journey j and yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains. Chr. Why, man, do you think we shall not be received ? Ath. Received 1 there is no such place as you dream of in all this world. Chr. But there is in the world to come. Ath. When 1 was at home, in mine own country, 1 beard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this city twenty years, but find no more of it than I did the first day 1 set outll * Rom. xvi. 17. 18. f Deut. xxix. 2. \ 2 Chron. vi. 26, 2? $ Rev. in. 19. [\ Eccl, x, 15, J* r. xvii. 1$. THE PILGRIM^ progress. 151 Chr. We have both heard and believe that there is such a ^lace to be found. Aih. Had not 1, when at home, believed, I had not come thus fai to seek ; hut finding none (and yet I should, had there been such a place to be found, for I have gone to seek it further than you) I am going back again, and wilj seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast away for hopes of that which I now see is not. Then said Christian to Hopeful his companion, Is it true which this man hath said ? Hofie. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers : remem- ber what it hath cost us once already, for our hearken- ing to such kind of fellows. What ! no mount Zion ? Did we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate of the city? Also, are we not now to walk by faith i* Let us go on, said Hopeful, lest the man with the whip overtake us again. You should have taught me that lesson, which I will sound in the ears withal : "Cease my sons to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of knowledge ;"t I say, my brother cease to hear him, and let us believe to the saving of the soul. Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I doubted of the truth of your belief myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch fiorn thee a fruit of the hon- esty of thy heart. As for this man, I know that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth ! and " no lie is of the truth/'f Hofie. Now I do rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So they turned away from the man, and he, laughing at them, went his way. I saw then in my dream, that they went till they came into a certain country, whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a stranger into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull and heavy of sleep : wherefore he said unto Christian, I now begin to gro^ so drowsy, that I can scarcely holdup mine eyes; let us lie down here, and take one nap. By no means, said the other j lest, sleeping, we nev- er wake more. *2Cor. v. 7. f Prov. a&. 27. Heb. x. 39. 4 1 John ii. 2\. 152 Ilo/ie. Why, my brother ? sleep is sweet to the labor** ingraan ; we may be refreshed if we take a nap. Chr. Do you not remember that one of the shep- herds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground ? He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping ; " wherefore let us not sleep, as do others, but let us watch, and be sober."* Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and, had I been here alone, 1 had by sleeping run the danger of death. I see it is true what the wise man saith, " Two are better than one.'*! Hitherto hath thy company been my mercy ; and thou ahalt '• have a good reward for thy labor." Now then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse. With all my heart, said the other. Chr. Where shall we begin ? Hope. W T here God began with us : do you begin if you please. Chr. I will sing you first this song — 1 When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, .And hear W^P these \.\\o pilgrims talk together : Yea, let them learn of them in any ".vise Thus toke*p ope their drowsy slumb' ring eyes. Saints' fellowship, if it be nianag'd well. Keeps them awake, and that iu spite of hell.' Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a question: How came you at first to think of doing what you do now ? Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first to look af- ter the £ooci of my soul ? Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. Hope. I roiitii tied a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair; things which I believe now, would have, had I continued in tbefn sttH. drowned me in perdition and destruction. Chr. What things are they ? Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. Al- so I delighted ir-uch in rioting, revelling, drinkirg, swearing, lying, uncleanness, sabbath-breaking, and * Thes. v. 6. t Eccl. iv. 9. 153 what not, that tended to destroy the soul. But I found, at last, by hearing and considering of things that are di- vine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful, who was put to death for his faith and good li- ving in Vanity-fair, that " the end of these things is death ;'* and that " for these things* sake, the wralh of God cometh upon the children of disobedience."* Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction ? Hope. No ; I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the com- mission of it; but endeavored, when my mind at first began to be shaken with the word, to shut mine eyes a- gainst the light thereof. Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon you. Hope. The causes were — 1. I was ignorant that this was the work of God upon me. I never thought that by awakenings for sin, God at first begins the conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I wasloth to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with my old companions, their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart- affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no, not so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart. Chr. Then, it seems, sometimes you got relief of your trouble ? Hope. Yes, verily, hut it would come into my mind again, and then I would be as bad, nay, worse than I was before. Chr. Why what was it that brought your sins to mind again ? Hope. Many things : as, if I did but meet a good man in the street ; or if 1 have heard any read in the Bible ; or if mine head did begin to ache ; or if I were told that some of my neighbors were sick ; or if I heard the bell toil for some that were dead ; or if I thought of dying myself; or if I heard that sudden death happened to others ; but especially when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to judgment. * Rom. vi. 21—23. Eph. v. G, 154 THE PlLGRlftfd PROGRESS. C/ir. And could you at any time, with ease get eft the guilt of sin,when by any of these ways it came upon you. Hofie. No, noti ; for then they got faster hold of rny conscience : and then, if 1 did but think or going back to sin (though my mind was turned against it) it would be; double torment to me. Chr. And how did you do then ? Hofie I thought I must endeavor to mend ray life ; for else thought I, I am sure to be dunned. Chr. And did yon endeavor to amend I Hofie. Yes ; and fled from, not only my sins, but sin- ful < ompany too, and betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeding for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, &c. These things did I, with many others, too much here to rel te. Chr. A-d did you think yourself well then ? Hofie. Yts : for a while ; but at the last my trouble came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all my reformation. Chr. How came that about, since you were now re- formed ? Hofie. There were several things brought it upon me ; especially such sayings as these — " Ail our righteous- ness arc as filthy rags :" — " By the works of the law no man shall be justified :" — " When ye have done all these things, say, We are unprofitable :"* with many more such like. Fiom whence 1 began to reason with myself thus : — if all my righteousness arc filthy rags; if by the deeds of the law no man can be justified ; and if, when we have done all, we are unprofitable — then it is but a Colly to think of heaven by the law- I further thought thus — if a man runs a hundred pounds into the shop-keeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch — yet, if this ol ! debt stands still in the book uncrossed, for that the shop keeper may sue him, and < ast him into prison until he shall pay the debt. Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself? Hofie. Why, I thought t -us with mys If, I have by my sins ran a great war into God's book, and 'hat 7iiV now reforming will not p.;y off that score ; therefore I should think still, under all my present amendments * Isaiah \xW. 6. LuVe ivii. 10. Gal. ii. 1&. 155 - But bow shall I be freed from that damnation that I brought myself in danger of by my former transgres- sions .'' Chr. A very good application : — but pray go on. Jlo/te Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my late amendments, is, that, if I look narrowly into the best of what 1 do now, 1 still see sin, new sin. niixing itself with the best of that I do : so that now 1 am forced to conclude that, notwithstanding my former ibnd conceits of mvoeif and duties, i have committed sin enough in one day to send me to hell, though my former life had been faultless Chr. And what did you do then ? Nope. Do ! I could not tell what to do, till I broke my mind to Faithful ; for he and 1 wee well acquaint- ed ; and he told me, that unless I could obtain the right- eousness of a man that never had sinned, neither my own, nor all the righteousness of the world, could save me. Chr. And did vow think he spake true ? llofie. Had he told me so, when I was pleased and satisfied with mine own amendment, I had called him fool for his pains ; but now, since I see mine own infir- mity, and the sin which cleaves to my best performance, I have been forced of his opinion. Chr. But did you think, when at first he suggested it to you, tiiat there was such a man to be found, of whom it night justly be said, that he never committed sin ? llofie. I must confess the words at first sounded strangely ; but, after a little more talk and company with him, I had full conviction about it. Chr. And did you ask him what man this was, and how you must be justified by him 1* Hofie. Yes, and he told rue it was the Lord Jesus, that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High : And thus, said he, you must be justified by him — even by trusting to what he hath done by himself in the days, of his Mesh, and suffered when he did h?ng on the tree. I ask«d hinv fu ther, how the man's righteousness could be of that < fificacy to justify another before God ? And he toW me, He was the Mighty -God, and did * Rom. iv. Col. i. Heb. x. 2 Pet. i. 156 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. what he did, and died the death also, not for himself, but for me, to whom his doings, and the worthiness of i hem should be imputed, if I believed on him. Chr. And what did you do then ? Hope. I made my objections against my believing- for that I thought he wasnot willing to save me. Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said it was presumption. He said, No, for I was invited to come.*— Then he gave me a book, of Jesus's inditing, to encourage me the more freely to come : and he said, concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than heaven and earth.f Then I asked him what 1 must do when I came ? And he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, J and with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. Then I ask- ed him further, how 1 must make my supplication to him ? And he said, Go, and thou shalt find him upon a mercy seat,§ where he sits, all the year long, to give pardon and forgiveness to them that come. I told him that I knew not what to say when I came. And he bid me say to this effect — ** God be merciful to me a sin- ner," and ' make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ : for I see, that if his righteousness has no*, been, or I have not faith in his righteousness, I am utterly cast a- way. Lord I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Clirist should be the Saviour of the world : and, moreover, that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am (and 1 am a sinner indeed) Lord, take therefore this op- portunity, and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul through thy Son Jesus Christ, Amen.' Chr And did you do as you were bidden \ Hofie. Yes, over, and over, and over. Chr. A «id did the Father reveal the Son to you ? Hope. Not at first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth? no»* fifth, no nor at the sixth time neither. What did you then ? Hope. What! why I could not tell what to do. * Matt, xiv 28. f Matt. xxiv. 35. % Pwtl. xiv. 6 Jer. x\ix. 12, 13, Dan. vi. 10. $Exod. xiv. 22. f;ev. xvi, 2. Heb. iv. 16. the pilgrim's progress* 157 . Had you no thoughts of leaving oft' praying ? Hope. Yes, and a hundred times twice told. Chr. And what was the reason you did not ? Hope, i believe that that was true which hath been told me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this Christ, all the world could not save me : and therefore thought I with myself, if I leave off I die, and I can but die at the throne of grace. And withal this came into my mind, '■ If it tarry, wait for it ; because it will sure- ly come, and will not tarry."* So I continued, Until the Father showed me his Son. Chr. And how was he revealed unto you ? Ilofie. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my understanding,! and thus it was: —one day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time of my life ; and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as 1 was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my *oul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down from heaven upon me, ,and saying, " Believe on the Lord Jesus Chris*, and thou shalt be saved.":} But I replied, * Lord, I am a great, a very great sin- ner : and he answered, " My grace is sufficient for thee." Then I said, ' But, Lord, what is believing V And then I saw from that saying, " He that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst,"} that believing and coming was all one ; and that he that came, that is, ran out in his heart and affection after salvation by Christ, he indeed believ- ed in Christ. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, * But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am, be indeed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee V And I heard him say, u And kim that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out."|| Then I said, But how Lord, must I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my faith may be placed aright upon tiiee V Then he said, *' Christ came into the world to save sinners :" " he is the end of the. law of righteousness to every «ne that believes ;" " h died for our sins, and rose again * Hab ii. 3. t Eph. i, 18, 19. \ Acts xvi. 30, 31. i John vL 35. |I John *l 37. O 158 THE PILGHUvT» PRO6RK8S. for our justification ;" "he loved us, and washed uj from our sins in his own blood ;'* " lie is Mediator be- twixt God and us t" u he ever liveth to make in- tercession for us."* From all which 1 gathered, that I must look for righteousness in his person, and lor sat- isfaction for my sins by his blood ; that which he did in obedience to his Father's law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thankful. Aad now was my Heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ. Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul in- deed : but tell me particularly what effect this had up- on your spirit. Hofie. It made me see that all the world, notwithstan- ding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of con- demnation : it made me see that God the Father though lie be just, can justly justify the coming sinner : it made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me with the sense of mine own ignor- ance ; for there never came a thought into my heart, be- fore now, that showed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ - t it made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the honor and glory of the Lord Jesus ; yea, I thought that, had I now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I could spill it all for the sake of the Lord Jesus. I saw then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back and saw Ignorance, whom they left behind, coming af- ter : Look, said he, to Christian, how far yonder youbg- ster loitereth behind. Chr. Ay, ay, I see him : he eareth not for our com- pany. Hofie. But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto. Chr. That is true ; but I'll warrant you he thinketL otherwise. Hofie. That I think he doth : but, however, let its terry for him. So they did. * 1 Thu. i. 15. Rons. x. 4. Hefe. vii. 23, 3* THE PILGRIM^ PROGRESS. 1u# Then Christian said to him, come away, man ; why do you stay so behind ? Ignor. I take my pleasure in walking alone ; even more a great deal than in company, unless I like it better. Then said Christian to Hopeful,Vbut softly) Did not I tell you he carednot for your company ? But, however, said he, come up, and let us talk away the time in this solitary place. Then directing his speech to Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you ? how stands it between God and your soul now. Ignor. I hope well ; for I am always full of good mo- tions, that come into my mind to comiort me as I walk. Chr. What good motions ? pray tell us. Ignor. Why, I think of God and, heaven. Chr. So do the devils and damned.souls. Ignor. But I think of them and desire them. Chr. So do many that are never like to come thert. " The soul of the sluggard desires, and hath nothing."* Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them. Chr. That I doubt: for leaving off all is a hard mat* ter ; yea, a harder matter than many are aware oi. But why, or by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast left all for God and heaven ? Ignor. My heart tells me so. Chr. The wise man says " He that trusts his owji heart is a fool/'f Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart : but mine is a good one. Chr. Buthow dost thou prove that ? Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven, Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness ; for a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing for which he has yet no ground to hope. Ignor. But my heart and life agree together ; and therefore my hope is well grounded. Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree to- gether ? Ignor. My heart tells me. Chr. 'Mk my fellow if I be a thief Thy heart tells thee so \ Except the woid of God beareth witness in this matter, other testimony is of no value. ' Proy. i$>, 4. | Prov. ixviii. J26 Ignor. But is it not a good heart that has good thoughts, and is not that a good life that is according to God's commandments ? Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that has good thoughts, and that is a good \l% that is according to God's com- mandments ; but it is one thing indeed to have these, and another thing only to think so. Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a Kfe according to God's commandments ? Chr. -There are good thoughts of divers kinds ; — some respecting ourselves, some — God, some, — Christ, and some — other things. Ignor. What be »;ood thoughts respecting ourselves ? Chr. Such as agree with the word of God. Ignor. When y Wi our thoughts of ourselves agree with the word of God ? Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon our- selves, which the world passes. — To explain myself : the word of God saith of persons in a natural condition, ;( There is none righteous, there is none that doeth good." It saith also, that " every imagination of the "heart of a man is only evil, and that continually."* And again, u The imagination of man's heart is evil from his youth." Now then, when we think thus of ourselves, having sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones., b'0tause according to the word of God. Ignor. 1 will never believe that my heart is thus bad. Chr. Therefore you never hadst one good thought concerning thyself in thy life. — But let me go on. As the word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it pas- seth a judgment upon our ways ; and whe n the thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judgment which the word giveth of both, then are both good, because ' agreeing thereto. Ignor. Make out your meaning. Chr. Why the word of God saith, that man's ways are crooked ways, not good, but perverse : it saith, they are naturally out of the good way, that they have not known it.f Now when a man thus thinketh of his ways ; I say, when he doth sensibly, with heart humil- iation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own S Gen. vi. 5. Rom. iii. f Psa!. vxxr. 5. Prov. ii. 15. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 16.1 ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judg- ment of the word of God. Ignor. What are good thoughts concerning God ? Chr. Even, as I have said concerning ourselves, when our thoughts of God do agree with what the word saith of him j and that is, when we think of his being and attributes as the word hath taught ; of which I cannot discourse at large. But to speak of him in reference to us ; then we have right thoughts of God, when we think that he knows us better than we know ourselves, and can see sin in us, when and where we can see none in ourselves : when we think he knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart, with all its depths, is always open unto his eyes : also when we think that aH our righteousness stinks in his nostrils, and that therefore he cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confi- dence, even in all our best performances. Ignor. Do you think I am such a fool as to think God can see no further than I ? or that I would come to God in the best of my performances ? Chr. Why, how dost thou think in this matter ? Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for justification. Chr. How ? think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities ; but hast such an opin- ion of thyself, and of what thou doest, as plainly renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before God. How then dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? Ignor. I believe well enough for all that. Chr. How dost thou believe ? Ignor. I believe that Christ died for sinners ; and that I shall be justified before God from the curse, through> his gracious acceptance of my obedience to his laws. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his Father by virtue of his merits, and so shall 1 be justified. Chr. Let us g*ve an answer to this confession of thy faith. * 1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith j for thj^ faith is no where described in the word. O 2 3*8 THE PILGRIM'S PiiOGKESS. 2. Tbou believest with a false faith ; because then; feikest justification /rem the personal righteousness of Christ, aod applies it to thy own. $. This maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy actions ; and of thy person for tby actions' sake, which is false. 4. Therefore this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under wrath in thr, day of God Almighty - for true justifying faith puts the soul, as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon fleeing for refuge unto Christ's righteousness : (which righteousness of his is not an act of grace, by which he maketh for justification, thy obedience accepted of God, but his personal obedi- ence to the law, in doing and suffering for us what that required at our hands:) this righteousness, I say, true feith accepteth ; under the skirt of which the soul be- ing shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquits from condemnation. Ignor. What ! would you have us trust to what Christ in his own person hath done without us ? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate "Us to live as we list : for what matter how we live, if we may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we beheve it ? Chr. Ignorance is thy name ; and as thy name is, so art thou ; even this thy answer demonstrated what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the iaith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effect of caving faith in his righteousness of Christ, which is to bow and win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his name, his word, ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly imagifiest. Hofie. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven ? Jgrwr. What ! you are a man for revelations ! I dc believe that what both you ancj all the rest of you say about that matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains. Hope. Why, man t C hrist is so hid in God from the natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he cannot by a- uy man be savingly known, unlsss ©od the Father re» veals him to then). THK PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 1&> Ignor. Th<*t is your faith, but not mine : yet mine, I doubt not, is as good as yours, though I have not in my head so many whimsies as you, Chr. Give me leave to put in a word : you ought r.ofc to speak so slightly of this matter : for this I boldly af- firm (even as my good companion hath done) that no man can know Jesus Christ but by t^c revelation of the Father ; yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon Christ (if it be right) must be wrought by the ex- ceeding greatness of his mighty power ;* the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ig- norant of. Be awakened then, see thine own wretch- edness, and flee to the Lord Jesus; and by his righteous- ness, which is the righteousness of God (for he himself is God) thou shalt be delivered from condemnation. Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with ycu j do you go on before : I must stay awhile behind. Then they said— ' Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be To slight good counsel, ten times given thee ? And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know, Ere long, the evil of thy doing so. Kemember, man, in time ; stop, do not fear ; Good counsel taken well saves : therefore hear ; But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be The loser, Jgnorc.nce, I'll warrant thee.' Then Christian addressed himself thus to his fellow : Chr. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I must walk by ourselves again. So I saw in my dream, that they went on apace be- fore, and Ignorance came hobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, it pities me much for this poor man : It will certainly go ill with him at last. Hofie. Alas ! there are abundance in our town in this condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that of pilgrims too ; and if there be so many in our parts, how many, think you, must there be in the place where he was born ? Chr. Indeed the word saith, "\He hath blinded their eyes, lest they should see," &c» * Matt. 7Bk 27. 1 Cor, xii. 3, Epb. i 18, Mfc 164 But, now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men ? have they at no time, think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fear ihat their state is dan- gerous ? Hope. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the older man. Chr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may ; but they, being naturally ignorant, understand not that such convictions tend to their good ; and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presumptuously continue to flatter themselves in the way of their own hearts. Hofie. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much to men's good, and to make them right at their begin- ning to go on pilgrimage. Chr. ^Without all doubt it doth, if it be right : for so says the word, '* The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom."* Hofie. How will you describe right fear ? Chr. True or right fear is discovered by three things : 1. By its rise : it is caused by saving convictions for sin. Sr. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salva- tion. 3. It begetteth and continueth in the soul a great "reverence of God, his word and ways, keeping it tend- er, and making it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand or to the left, to any thing that may dishonor God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the enemy to speak reproachfully. Hofic. Well said ; I believe you have said, the truth. Are we no* almost got past the Enchanted Ground ? Chr. Why? art thou weary of this discourse ? Hofie. No verily, but that I would know where we are. Chr. We have not now above two miles further to go thereon. But let us return to our matter. Now the ignorant know not that such convictions, as tend to put them in fear, are for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them. Hofie. How do they seek to stifle them ? Chr. 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil (though indeed they are wrought by God ;) and, thinking so, they resist them, as things that direct- *JobMTiii. 28. Vs, cxi. 10. Prov. i. 7. it. 10. the pilgrim's progress. 165 ly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith ; when, a- las for them, poor men that they a:e, they have none at all! aod therefore they harden their hearts against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear, and therefore in despite of them wax presumptuously confi- dent. 4. They see that those fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old self- holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their might. Hufie. I know something of this myself: before I kfccfr myseU it was so with me. Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbor Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question. Nvfie. With all my heart ; but you shall still begin. Chr. Well then, did you know, about ten years ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was a forward man in religion then ? Hofie . Know him ! yes ; he dwelt in Graceless, a town about two miles off Honesty, and he dwelt next door to one Turnback. Chr. Right j he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, that man was much awakened once ; 1 believe that then he had some sight of his sins, and of his wa- ges that were dwe thereto. Hofie. I am of your mind, for (my house not being a- bove three miles from him) he would oft-times come lo me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the rcan, and was not altogether without hope of him : but one may see, it is not every one that cries Lord, Lord. Chr. He fold me once that he was resolved to go on pilgrimage, as we go now ; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted with one Saveself, and then he became a stranger tome. Hofie. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a Tittle inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of iiim and such others. Chr. It may be very profitable ; but do you begin. Hofie. Well then, there are in my judgment four rea- sons for it. 1. Though, the consciences of such men are awaken- ed, yet their minds are not changed : therefore wher i 166* power of guilt wearetb away, that which piovckcihthetw to be religious ceaseth ; wherefore they natuially re- turn to their old course again; even as we see the dog that is sick of what he has eaten, sg long as his sickness prevails he vomits and casts up all : notthat he doth this of free mind^if we may say a dog has a mind) but because it troubleth his stomach : but t^cw, when his sickness is over, and so his stomach cased, his desires being not at all alienated from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all; and so it is true which is written, " The dog is turned to Ins vomit again."* Thus, I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only cf the sense and, tear of the tor- ments of he!i, ast*»eir sense of hell and fear of damna- tion chills and cools, so their desiie for heaven and sal- vation cool also. So then it comes to pass that, when their guilt and fear is gone, their desires for heaven and happiness die, and they return to their course again. ■2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do overmaster them :— I speak now of the fears that they have of men : " for fear of man bringeth a snare. "f So then, though they seem to be hot for heaven so long as the flames of hell arc about their ears, yet when that ter- ror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts, namely, that it is good to be wise, and not to run (for they know not what) the hazard of losing all, or at least of bringing themselves into unavoidable and unne- cessary troubles ; and sothey fall in with the world sgain. 3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block in their way : they are proud and haughty, and religion in their eye is low and contemptible : therefore when they have lost their sense of hell ard wrath to come; '&' 1 with joy receive, even every one that follows into the holy places after you. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When he shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you shail come with him ; and, when he shall sit upon the throne cf judgment, you shall sit by him : yea, and when he shall p?ss sentence upon all the work- ers of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that Judgment, because they were his and your enemies. Also when he shall again re- turn to the city, you shall go too with sound of trum- pet, and be ever with him-ll * Rev. ii. 7. iii. 4. xxii. 5. + Isa. lxv. 16. 1 Gal. vi tl John iit. 2. ||1 Tbes. i v. 1.3—17. Jud< I \ii.9, 1Q. 1 Cor. vi. 2.3. *he pilgrim's progress. 173 Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold, a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them ; to whom it was said by the other two shi- ning ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord, when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name, and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy.' Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, " Blessed are they that are called to the mar- riage supper of the Lamb."* There came out also at this time to meet them, several of the king's trumpet- ers, clothed in white and shining raiment, who, with melodious noises, and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Chri«tian and his fellow, with ten thousand welcomes from the world ; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet. — — » This done, they "Compassed them round on every side : some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left (as it were to guard them through the upper region) continually sounding as they went, with melodious noise, in notes on high ; so that the very sight was to them that could behold it, as if heaven itself was come down to meet them. Thus, therefore they walked on together; and as they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother how welcome they were into their ^ompany, and with what gladn«ss they came to meet them. And now were these two men, as it were, in heaven, before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels and with hear- ing their melodious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view ; and they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But, above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that for ever and ever ; Oh! by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed ! — Thus they came up to the gate. * Rev. xix; 9. P 2 174 Now, when they were come up to the gate, there was written over it, in letters of gold, " Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city."* Then I saw in my dream, that the shi- ning men bid them call at the gate : the which when they did, some from above looked over the gale, viz. Enoch, Moses, Elias, See. to whom it was said, * These pilgrims are come from the city of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place ;' and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, which they had received in the beginning : those there- fore were carried in unto the King, who, when he htd read them, said, ■ Where are the m<*n ? To whom it was answered," * They are standing without the gate.' The King then commanded to open the gate, * that the righteous nation/ said he, u that keepeth truth may enter in."f Now I saw in my dream, that these two men went in at the gate ; and lo ! as they entered, they were trans- figured : and they had raiment put on that shone like %-rld. There were also that met them with harps and crowns, aad gave them to them ; the harps to praise withal, and the crowns in token of honor — Then I heard in my dream, that all the bells in the city rang a- gain for joy, and that it w?s said unto them, " Enter ye into the joy of 3 T our Lord." I also heard the men them- selves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying, " Bles- sing, honor, and glory, and power, be to Him that sit- teth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for evet and ev- er. | Now, justasthe gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and, behold, the city shone like the sun ; the streets also were paved with gold; and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands; and golden harps, to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermission, saying, ** Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord." And after that they * Rev. Mii. 14. f hz» MY!, 2- t Rev. v. 13, 14. shut up the gates : which, when I had seen, I wished myseli among them. Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side : but he soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which the other two men met with. For it happened that there was then in that place one Vain-hope, a ferry-man, that with his boat helped him over : so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate ; only he came alone ; neither did any man meet him with the least encourage- ment. When he was come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to ki ock, supposing that entrance should have been quick- ly administered to him : but he was asked by the man that looked over the top cf the gate, ' Whence come you ? And what would you have V He answered, * I have eat and diunk in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets.' Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and show it to the King : — So he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, You have none : but the ma;i answered never a word. So they told the king, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two shining ones, that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the city, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the city of Destruction.— So I awoke, and behold it was a dream. I 176 tub pilgrim's PROGRrsS. THE CONCLUSION. NOW, Reader, I have told my dream to thee, See if thou canst interpret it to me, Oi to thyself, or neighbor ; but take heed Of misinterpreting; for that, instead Oi doing good, will but thyself abuse ; By misinterpreting, evil ensues. Take heed also that thou be not extreme In playing with the outside of my dream : Nor let my figure or similitude Put thee into a laughter or a feud : Leave this for boys and fools ; but as for thee, Do thou the substance of my matter see. Put by the curtains, look within my veil, Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail ; There if thou seekest them, such things thou'lt finti As will be helpful to an honest mind. What of my dross, thou findest there, be bold To throw away, but yet preserve the gold. What if my gold be wrapped up in ore ? None throw away the apple for the core. But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but 'twill make me dream again. THE END OF THE FIRST PART. j j THE AUTHOR'S WAY 0¥ SENDING FORTH HIS SECOND PART 07 THE PILGRIM. GO now, my little book to every place, Where my first pilgrim has but shown his face : Call at the door ; if any say, who's there ? Then answer thou, Christiana is here. If they bid thee come in, there enter thou, With all thy boys : and then thou knowest 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 Ms 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 on the way ; And they do meet with troubles night and day : That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils ; Have also overcome as 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, teli them also of those dainty things, That pilgrimage unto the Pilgrims brings : Let them acquainted be !oo, how they are 178 PREFACE. Beloved of the King, under his care ; What goodly mansions he for them provides, Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tit Mow brave a Calm ihe> will enjoy at last, Who to the Lord, and to his ways hold fast Perhaps with heart and hand they will embraee Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace Thee as thy fellows with good cheer and fare, As show well they of Pilgiims lovers are. OBJECTION !. •But how, if they will not believe of me That 1 am truly thine i 'cause some there be That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name, Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same ; Ano, by that means, have brought themselves intc The hands and houses of I know not who ? ANSWER. '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 books 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 wayj Before them ail, is to say out thy say, In thine own native language, which no man Now usethj or with ease dissemble can. If, after all, they still of you shall doubt, Thinking that you like gypsies go about, In naughty ways, 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 aioi.e will do. OBJECTION' n. But yet, perhaps, I may enquire for him, Of those that with him damned life and limb ; What shall I do, when I at such a door I- o r Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more ? r»j,AC* 1-9 ANSW EF . Fright not thyself, my book ; for such bugbears Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears. My Pilgrim's book has travelled sea and land, Yet could i never come to understand That it was slighted and turned out of door, By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, My Pilgrim is eslcem'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 lush can agree My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 'Tis in New- England under such advance, Receives there so much loving countenance, As to be trimm'd, new cloth'd and deck'd with gems, That it may show its features and its limbs. Yet more ; so public doth my Pilgrim walk, That of him thousands daily sing and talk. If you draw nearer home, it will appear, My pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear : City and country both will entertain, With welcome, Pilgrim ; yea, they can't refrain From smiling, if my pilgrim be but by, Or shows bis head in any company. Br?.ve gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, Esteem it much ; *yea, value it above Things of a greater bulk ; yea, with deligut Say, my lark's leg is better than a kite. Young ladies, and young gentlemen too, Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show : Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, My Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts His pretty riddles, in such wholesome strains, As yields them profit double to their pains Of reading ; yea, I think I may be bold To say, some prize him far above their gold. The very children that do walk the street^ If thejr do but my holy Pilgrim meet PKEFAi . . Salute him will ; will wish J»im well, and say, He is the only strippling of the day. They that have never seen him, yet ad;.: What they have heard of him, and much desire To have his company, and hear him tell Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. Yea, some that did not love him at the first, I>ut call'd him fool and noddy, say they must, Now they have seen and heard him, him commend And to those whom they love, they do him send. Wherefore my Second Part, thou need'st not be Afraid to show thy head ; none can hurt thee, That wish but well to him that went before ; *Cause thou com'st after with a second store Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, For young, for old, for stagg'ring, and for stable. objection in. But some there be that say, he laughs too loud; And some do say, his head is in a cloud. Some say, his words and stories are so dark, They know not how by them to find his mark. ANSWER. One may (I think) say, both his laughs and ciies May well ^guess'd at by his wat'ry eyes. Some things are of that nature as to make One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache ; When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, He did at the same time both kiss and weep. Whereas some say, a cloud is in his head, That doth but show his wisdom's covered With his own mantle ; and to stir the mind To search well after what it fain would find. Things that seem to be hid in words obscure, Do but the godly mind the more allure, To study what those sayings should contain, That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. I also know, a dark similitude Will on the carious fancy more intrude, And will stick faster in the heart and head, Than things from similies not borrowed. PREFACE. 191 Wherefore, my book, let no discouragement Hinder thy travels : behold ! thou ait sent To friends, not foes ; to friends that will give place To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. Besides, what my first pilgrim left conceal'd, Thou, my brave second Pilgrim ! hast reveal'd ; What Christian left lock'd up, and went his way, Sweet Christiana opens with her key. 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 pr'ythee on them smile : Perhaps 'tis nature or some ill report, Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. Some love no fish, some love no cheese ; and some Love not their friends, nor their own house or homp, Some start at pig, slight chitken, 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 most humble wise, Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim's guise. Go then my little book, and show to all That entertain, and bid thee welcome shall, What thou shalt keep close shut up from the rest : And wish that thou shalt show them may be bless'd To them for good, and make them choose to be Pilgrims by better far than thee and 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 ; 132 PREFAO Say, here's my neighbor Mercy ; she is on* That has long time vvith me a Pilgrim gone j f^ome> see her in her virgin face, and learn 'Twixtidle ones and Pilgrims to discern. Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize The world which 13 to come, in any wise. When little tripping maidens follow God, And leave old doating sinners to his rod, 'lis like those days, wherein the young ones cry'd Hosanna 1 when the old ones did deride. Next tell them of old Honest, whom you found, With his white hairs, treading the Pilgrim's ground Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was ; How alter this good Lord he bare the cross. Perhaps with some gray head this may prevail With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. Tell them also, how Mr. Fearing went On pilgrimage ; and the time he spent In solitariness, with fears and cries ; And how at last he won the joyful prize. He .ras a good man, though much down in spirit ; He is a good man, and dofti life inherit. Tell them of Mr. Feeble-mind also, Who not before but still behind would go : Show them also, how he'd like t* have been slain, And how one Great-heart did his life regain. This man was true of heajt, though weak in gra; One might true godliness read in his face. Then tell them of Mr. Ready-to-halt, A man with crutches, but much without fault ; Tell them how Mr. Feeble-mind and he Did love, and in opinion much agree ; And let all know, though weakness was their cha Yet sometimes one would sing, the other d&nce. Forget not Mr Valiant tor the truth, That man of courage, though a very youth Tell every one his spirit was so stout ; No one could ever make him face about ; And how Great-heart and he could not forbear, But put down Doubting Castle ; slew Desp. PREFACE. 133 Overlook not Mi\ 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 touched, will such music make, They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. Those riddles that lie couch'd within thy breast, Freely propound, expound, and for the rest Of my mysterious lines, let them remain, For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. Now may this little book a blessing be To those who love this little book and me ; And may its buyer have no cause to say, His money is but lost, or thrown away. Yea, may this second pilgrim yield that fruit As may with each good Pilgrim's fancy suit, And may it some persuade that go astray, To turn their feet and heart to the right way. Is the hearty Prayer of The Author, JOHN BUNYAN. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. PART II. WHEREIN IS SET FORTH I. THB MANNER OF THE SETTING OUT OF CHRISTIAN'S WIFE AND CHILDREN. II. THEIR DANGEROUS JOURNEY, AND III. SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. Courteous Comfianion, SOME time since, to tell you a dream that I had of Christian the pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey to- wards the celestial country, was pleasant to me and pro- fitable to you. I told you then also what I saw concer- ning his wife and children, and how unwilling they were to go with him on pilgrimage : insomuch that he was for- ced to go on his progress without them j for he durst not run the danger of that destruction, which he feared would come, by staying with them in the city of De- struction : wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them, and departed. Now it hath so happened, through -the multiplicity of business, that I have been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts where he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make further inquiry after whom he left behind, that I might give you an account of them. But, having had some concerns that way of late, I went down again thither- ward. Now having taken up my lodging in a wood, about a mile off the place, as I slept, I dreamed again. And, as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentle- man came by where I lay ; and because he was to go some part of the way that I was travelling, methought I got up and went with him. So, as we walked, and as travellers usually do, I was as if we fell into a discourse, and our talk happened to be about Christhn and bb travels : for thus I began with the old man : Q2 lo6 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Sir, said J, What town is that there below, that lieth or the left hand of our way ? Then said Mr. Sagacity (for that was his name) It is the Cit> of Destruction, a poptih us place, but possessed with a very ill conditioned and idle sort of people. I thought that was that city, quoth I ± I went once myself through that town ; and therefore I know that this report you give of it is true. Sag. Too true ! I wish I could speak truth in speak- ing better of them that dwell therein. Weil, Sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well meaning man, and so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good ; pray did you never hear what happened to a man some time ago in this town (whose name was Christian) that went on a pilgrimage up towards the higher regions ? Sag. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the mo- lestations, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, frights, and fears, that he met with, and had on his jour- ney. Besides, I must tell you, all our country rings of him ; there are but few houses, that have heard of him and his doings, but have sought alter and got t've records of his pilgrimage ; yea, I think I may say, that this ha- zardous journey has got many well-wishers to his ways ; for though when he was here, he is zfool was in every man'smouth,yet now he is gone,he is highly commended of all. For it is said he lives bravely where he is : yea, many of them that are resolved never to iun his haz- ards, yet have thei.* mouths water at his gains. They may, quoth I, well think, if they think any thing that is true, that he liveth well where he is ; for he now lives at and in the fountain of life, and has what he has without labor and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed therewith. But pray, what talk have the people about him. Sag. Talk ! the people t«lk strangely about him : some say, that he now walks in white ;* that he has a chain of gold about his neck ; that he has a crown of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head : others say, that the shining ones, that sometimes showed themselves to him in his journey, are become his companions, an'^ *Rev. iii. 4. chap. vi. 11. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. J 37 that he is as familiar with them in the place where he is, as here one neighbor is with another.* Besides, it Is confidently affirmed concerning him, that the king of the place where he is, has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at ccuit, and that he every clay eate,th,and drinketh, and walketh, and talketh with him, and receiveth the smiles and favors of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his prince, the Lot a of that country, will shortly come into these pails, and will know the reason, if they can give any, why his neighbors set so little by him, and had him so much in derision, when they per- ceived that he would be a pilgrim f For they say, that now he is so in the affections of his prince, and that his Sovereign is so much concerned with the indignities that were cast upon Christian, wi en he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all as if done to himself : and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had to his prince, that he ventured as he did.| I dare say, quoth I, I am glad oi it ; I am glad lor the poor man's sake, for that :.ow he has rest from his !»• hour.} and for that he now reaps the benefits of his tears with joy ;|| and for that he lu s got beyond the gun-shot of his enemies, and is out of the read. that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumor of these things is noised abroad in this country ; who tell bi^. that it may work some good effect on some I are lei*: behind ? — But pray, Sir, while it is fresh in try mind, do you hear any thing of his wife jind childien? Poor hearts ! I wonder in my mind what they do. Sag. Who ? Christiana and her sons ? They ar? like to do a? weil as did Christian himself; for, though tl . all pla .'ed the fool at first, and would by no means be persur Jed by either the tears or entreaties of Chiibti yet se»ond thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them :• so they have packed up, and are also gone a:ter him. v.tcr and better, quoth I : but, what ! wife and ehil- and all ? ag. It is true : I can give you an account of the / >h. : ii. 7. f Jude 15. \ Luke x. 16. | I'v.xiv. 13. (Fs. cxxVi.5, 6. 138 THE 'PILGRIm'9 PROGRESS. matter: for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair. Then, said 1* may a man report it for a truth ? Sag. You need not fear to affirm it : I mean, that they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her tour boys. And being we are, as I perceive, going some considerable way together, I will give you an ac» count of the whole matter. This Chrishana (for that was her name from the day that she with her children betook themselves to a pilgrim's life) after her husband was gone over the river, and she could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to work in her mind. First, for that she had lost her husband, and for that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. Fcr you know, said he to me, nature can do no less but entertain the living with many a heavy cogitation, in the remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This therefore, of her hus- band, did cost her many a tear. But tnis was not all ; for Christiana did also begin to consider with herself, whether her unbecoming behaviour towards her husband was not one cause that she saw him no more ; and that in such sort he was taken away from her. And upon this came into her mind by swarms, all her unkind, un- natural, and ungodly carriage to her dear friend ; which also clogged her conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was moreover much broken with calling to remem- brance the restless groans, the brinish tears, a ad self- bemoaning of her husband, and how she did h? ; rden her heart against ail his entreaties, and loving persuasions, of her and her sons to go with him ; yea, there was not any thing that Christian either said to her, cv did be- fore her, all tjiat while that his burden did har.g on his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the caui of her heart in sunder ; e^ecially that bitter outcry of his, " What shall I do to be saved ?" did ring in her ears most dolefully. Then said she to her children, « Sons, we are jgU un- done. I have sinned away your father, and he is gine : he would have had us with him, but I would now., go myself: I also have hindered yon of life.' With Cthat the boys frll into tears, and cried to go after their fath er. i Oh !' said Christiana, that it had been but onr of- the pilgrim's progress. J 89 to g© with him ; then it had fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now. For, though I formerly fool- ishly imagined concerning the troubles of your father, that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he was over-run with melancholy humors : yet now, it will not be out of my mind, but that they sprang: from another cause ; to wit, for that the light of life w?>s given him ;* by the help of &hich, as I perceive, he has escaped the snares of death.' Then they wept all again, and criedout, ' Oh, wo worth the day I* The next night Christiana had a dream; and be- hold, she saw as if a broad parchment was opened be- fore her, in which were recorded the sum of her ways ; and the crimes, as she thought looked very black upon her. Then she cried out aloud in her sleep, " Lord have mercy upon me a sinner :"f — and the little chil- dren heard her. After this, she thought she saw two very ill- favored ones standing by her bed-side, and saying, 4 What shall we do with this woman ? for she cries out for mercy waking and sleeping : if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. Wherefore we must, by some way, seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter, else all the world cannot help but she will become a pilgrim.' Now she awoke in a -great sweat ; also a trembling was upon her : but after a while she fell to sleeping a- gain. And then she thought she saw Christian her husband in a place of bliss, among many immortals, with an harp in his hand, standing and playing upon it before One that sat on a throne, with a rainbow about his head. She saw also, as if he bowed his head with his face towards the paved work that was under his Prince's feet, saying, * I heartily thank my Lord and King for bringing me into this place.' Then shouted a company of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps : but no man living could tell what they said, but Christian and his companions. Next morning when she was up, had prayed to God, and talked with her children awhile, one knocked hard at the door ; to whom she spake out, saying, « If thou * John viii. 12. t Luke iviii. 190 come st in God's name, come in.' So he said, * Amen ,* and opened the door, and saluted her with, M Peace on this house." The which when he had done, he said, * Christiana, knowestthou wherefoie 1 am come ? Then she blusheciand trembled j also her heart began to wax warm with desires to know from whence he came, and what his errand was to her. So he said unto her, ' My name is Secret ; 1 dwelJ with those that are high. It is talked of, where 1 dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither : also there is a report, that thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly done to thy husband, in har- dening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the Merci- ful One has sent me to tell thee, that be is a God read) to ibi give, and that he taketh delight to multiply the pardon of offences. He also would have thee to know, that be inviteth thee to come into bis prcserce, to his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and with the heritage ot Jacob thy father. 'There is Christian, thy husband that was, with le- gions more, his companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister life to the beholders : and they will all be glad, when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step over thy Father's threshold.' Christiana at this was greatly abtsned in herself, and bowed h'T head to the ground. This Vision proceeded, and snid, ' Cbiifctiarm. here is also a letter lor ihee, which I lave brought from thy husband's King ;' so she took it and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume.* Also it Was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter were these : ' that the King would have her do as Christian her husband ; for that was the only way to come to his city, and to dwell in his presence with joy for ever.' At this the good woman was quite overcome : so she cried out lo her visitor, * Sir, will you cany me and my chib'ren with yoiL, that we may also go and worship the King ?' Then said the visiter, * Christiana, the bitter is before the sioeetS Thou must through troubles, as he did that wert before thee, enter this celestial city. Where- fore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy husband ; * Sol. Song. i.3. 191 go tothe Wkfcot-gete yonder over the plain ; for that stands in the head of the way v.. . must go, and I wish thee all good speed. Also i adyise tnec, that thou put this letter in thy bosom : that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy children, until they have got it by heart ; tor it is one of the scmg&that ihou must sing wuite thou art in this house of thy pilgrimage :* also this thou mu^t deliver in at the far gate. Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as he told me this story, did himself seem to be greatly af- fected therewith. He moreover proceeded, and said, So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus to address herself unto them : k My sons, 1 have, as you may perceive, been of lale under much exercise in my soul about the death of your father ; not for that I doubt at all of his happiness ; for I am satisfied now that he is well. I have been also much affected with the thoughts of mine own estate and yours, which I ve- rily believe is by nature miserable. My carriage also to your fattier in his distress i> a great ioad to my con- science : for I hardened botii my heart ar;d yours a- gainst him, and refused to go with him on pilgrimage. The thoughts oi these things would now kid me ouc- right, but for that a dream that I had last night, and but t for the encouragement this stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children* let u, pack up, and he gone to the gate that leads us to that celestial coun- try, that we may see your lather, and be with him and his companions in peace, according to the laws ot that laud.' Then did her children burst out kto tears for joy that the heart of their mother was so inclined. So the visit- or bid them farewell : and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. But, while they were thus about to be gone, two oi the women that were Christiana's neighbors came up to house, and knocked at her door. To whom ► Before. At this the women were stunned : this kind of language they used not to hear, or to per- e to drop from the lips of Christiana. \ r et they * Psal. cxi*. 51. 192 came in : but, behold, they found the good woman pre- paring to be gone from her house. So they began, and said, « Neighbor, pray, what is your meaning by this ? Christiana answered, and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, • 1 am preparing for a journey.' (This Timorous was daughter to him that met Christian upon the hill of Difficulty, and would have had him gone back for fear of the lions.) Tim. For what journey, 1 pray you ? Chr. Even to go after my old husband. — And with that she fell to weeping. Tim- I hope not so, good neighbor ; pray, for your poor children's sake, do not so unwomanly cast away yourself. Chr. Nay my children all shall go with me : not one of them is going to stay behind. Tim. I wonder in my heart, what or who has brought you into this mind ! Chr. Oh, neighbor, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that you would go along with me. Tim. Pr'ythee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where ? Then Christiana replied, I have been sorely afflicted since my husband's departure from me ; but especially since he went over the river. But that which troubleth me most is my churlish carriage to him, when he was under his distress. Besides, 1 am now as he was then ; nothing will serve me, but going on pilgrimage. I was a dreaming last night, that I saw him. Oh that my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the king of the country ; he sits and eats with him at his table ; he is become a companion of immortals, and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best places on earth, if compared, seem to me but a dunghill.* The Prince of the place has also sent for me, with promises of entertainment, if I shall come to him ; his messenger was here even now, and brought me a letter, which in- vites me to come. — And with that she plucked out her * 2 Cor. v. 1—4. 193 letter, and read it, and said to them, What now will you s,ay to this ? Tim. Oh the madness that has possessed thee and thy husband ! to run yourselves upon such difficulties 1 You have heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet with, even in a manner, at the first step that he took on his way, as our neighbor Obstinate can yet testify, for he went along with him ; yea, and Pliable too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the lions, Apol- lyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger that he met with at Vanity-fair to be for- gotten by thee. For if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being a poor woman, do ? Consider also, that these four sweet babes are thy chil- dren, thy flesh and thy bones. Therefore, though thou shouldst be so rash as to cast away thyself; yet for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep them at home. But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my neighbor : I have now a price put into my hand to get a gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest sort, if I should have no heart to strike in with the opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles that I am like to meet with in the way, they are so far from being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in the right. The bitter must come before the sxvect, and that also will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore since you cam6 not to my house in God's name, as I said, I pray you be gone, and do not disquiet me further. Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fel- low, Come, neighbor Mercy, let us leave her in her own hands, since she scorns our counsel and company.' But Mercy was at a stand, and could not so readily comply with her neighbor ; and that for a two-fold reason — 1st Her bowels yearned over Christiana. So she said with- in herself, l If my neighbor will needs be gone, I will go a little way with her, and help her.' — 2dly. Her" bowels yearned over her own soul ; for what Christia- na had said, had taken some hold upon her mind. Wherefore she said within herself again, ' I will yet have more talk with this Christiana; and, if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself with my heart R 194 the pilgrim's progress. shall also go with her/ Wherefore Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbor Timorous. Mi r. Neighbor, \ did indeed come with you to see Christiana this morning ; and, since she is, as you see, a taking her last farewell of the country, I think to this sunshiny morning, a little with her, to help her on her way — But she told her not of her second reason, but kept it to herself. Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a fooling too ; but take heed in time, and be wise : while we are out of danger, we are out ; but, when we are in, we are in. — So Mis. Timorc js returned to her journey. But, when Timorous was got home to her house, she sends for some of her neighbors, to wit, Mrs. Bat's-eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-noth- ing. So, when they were come to her house, she falls to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended journey. And thus she began her tale — Neighbors, having but little to do this morning, I went to give Christiana a visit ; and, when I came at the door, I knocked, as you know it is our custom : and she answered, ' If you come in God's name, come in.' So in I went, thinking all was well : but, when I came in, I found her preparing herself to depart the town ; she, and also her children. So I asked her, what was her meaning by that ? And she told me in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she had, and how the King of the country where her husband was, had sent her an inviting letter to come thither. Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And what, do you think she will go ? Tim. Ay, go she will, whatever come on't : and me- thinks I know it by this ; for that which was my great argument to persuade her to stay at home (to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way) is one great argument with her to put her forward on her iourney. For she told me in so many words, Uhe bitter goes before the sweet ; yea, and forasmuch as it doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter.' Mrs. Bat*s-eyes. Oh this blind and foolish woman ! and will she not take warning by her husband's affiio tions? For my part, I see, if he were here again, he THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 195 would rest him content in a whole skin, and never run so many hazards for nothing. Mrs Inconsiderate also replied, saying, Away with such fantastical fools from the town : a good riddance for my part, I say of her ; should she stay where she dwells, and retain this mind, who could live quietly by her ? for she will either be dumpish or unneighhorly, to talk of such matters as no wise body can abide : where- fore, for my part, 1 shall never be sorry for her depar- ture ; let her go, and let better come in her room : it was never a good world since these whimsical fools dweit in it. Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth : Come, put this kind of talk away. I was yesterday at Madam Wanton's, where we were as merry as the maids; For who do you think should be there, but I and Mrs. Love- thc-flesh ; and three or four more, with Mrs. Lechery. Mrs. Filth, and some others : so there we had music and dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the plea- sure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an admira- ble well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mer- cy went along with her : so as they went her children beiig there also, Christiana began to discourse. ' And Mercy/ said Christiana, ' I take this as an unexpected favor, that thou shouldst set foot out of doors with me to accompany me a little in my way.' Then said young Mercy, (for she was but young) if I thought it would be to purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town. Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot with me ; I well know what will be the end of our pilgrimage : my husband is where he would not but be for all' the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King, who hath sent for me and my children, is one that de- lighteth in mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant. Yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me : only go along with me. Mer. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall be entertained ? Had I this hope from one that can tell, lyb THE PILGRIM 8 PROGRESS. I would make no stick at all, but would go, being help- cd by him that can help, though the way was never so tedious. C/ir. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee w hat thou shall do : go with me to the Wicket-gate, and there I will further inquire lor thee ; and, if there thou shalt not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou shalt return to thy place ; I also will pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to me and my children, in the accompanying of us in our way as thou dost. Mer. Then I will go thither, and will take what shall follow ; and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of heaven shall have his heart upon me. Christiana was then glad at heart ; not only that she had a companion ; but also for that she had prevailed with this poor maid to fall in love with her own salva- tion. So they went on together, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, • Wherefore wecpeth my sister so ?* ^ Alas ! said she, who can but lament, that shall but rightly consider what a state and condition my poor re- lations are in, that yet remain in our sinful town ? and that which makes my grief the more, is, because they have no instruction, nor any to tell them what is to come. C/ir. Bowels, become pilgrims : and thou doest for thy friends, as my good Christian did for me when he left me ; he mourned for that I would not heed nor regard him ; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears, and put them into his bottle : and now I aud thou, and these my sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and be- nefit of them. I hope, Mercy, that these tears of thine will not be lost ; for the Truth hath said, " they that sow in tears, shall reap in joy" and singing. And lie " that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." Then said Mercy, Let the most Blessed he my guide, iPt be his b\es$p(\ will, Ud to his 2^.te, into his fold, Up to his holy kill : And let him never suffer ibq THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 197 To svrerve or turn aside From his free-grace and holy ways, Whate'er shall me. betide. Aud let him gather tbem of mine, That I have left behind ; Lord, make them pray they may be thine, With all their heart and mind.' Now my old friend proceeded and said, — But ? whea Christiana came to the slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand ; * For,' said she, ' this is the place in ■which my dear husband had like to have been smother- ed with mud.' She perceived also, that, notwithstand- ing the command of the king to make this place for pil- grims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So 1^ asked if that was true ? Yes, said the old gentleman, too true : for many there be, that pretend to be the King's labourers, and say they are for mending the King's highways, that bring dirt and dun^anstead of stones, and so mar, instead of mendio^^H^re Christiana there- fore, and her boys, did make a stand : but said Mercy, i come, let us venture ; only let us be wary.' Then they looked well to their steps, and made a shift to get staggering over. Yet Christiana had like to have been in, and that not once or twice. Now they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said unto them, • ( Blessed is she that believeth, for there shall be a per- formance of what has been told her from the Lord." Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Chris- tiana, Had 1 as good ground to Hope for a loving re- ception at the wicket-gate, as you, 1 think no slough of Despond could discourage me. Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I know mine ; and, good friend, we shall have enough evil be- fore we come to our journey's end. For it cannot be imagined, that the people that design r attain such ex- cellent gk-ries as we do, and that are so envied that hap- piness as we are, but that we shall meet with what fears and snares, with what troubles and afflictions, they can possibly assault us with that hate us — And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore, methought I saw Christiana, and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up to the gate ; to K 2 198 the pilgrim's progress. which when they came, they betook themselves to a short debate, about how they must manage their calling at the gate : and what should be said unto him that did open unto them : so it was concluded, since Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she should speak to him that did open for the rest. So Christiana began to knock, and. as her poor husband did, she knocked and knocked again. But instead of a- ny that answered, they all thought that they heard as if a dog came barking fcpon them ; a dog, and a great one too ; and this made the women and children afraid. Nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear the mastiffshould fly upon them. Now therefore they wee greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, and knew not what to do : Knock they durst not, for fear of the dog ; go back they durst not, for fear the kee- per of that gate should espy them as they so went, and be offended with thein : at last they thought of knocking ag*in, and knocking more vehemently than they did at first. Then said the keeper of the gate, * Who is there V So the dog left off to bark, and he opened unto them. Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, « Let not our Lord be offended with his handmaidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate.' Then said the keeper, Whence came ye ? And what is it that you would have ? Christiana answered, We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon the same errand as he ; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted, by this gate, into the way that leads unto the Celestial city. And I answer, My Lord, in the next place, that 1 am Christiana, once the wife of Christian, that now is gotten above. With that the keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, * What, is she now become a pilgrim, that but a while ago abhorred that life V Then she bowed her head, and said, Ye? ; and so are these my sweet babes also.' Then he took her by the hand and let her in, and said also, " Suffer the little children to come unto me ;" and with that he shut up the gate. This done, he called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana with shouting, and sound; oftrunrpet, for joy. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 199 So he obeyed, and sounded and filled tho air with his melodious notes. Now all this while poor Mercy did stand without, trembling and crying lor fear that bhe was rejected. But when Christiana had gotten admittance For beia.if and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy. And she said, My Lord, I have a companion of mine that stands yet without, that is come hither upon the same account as myself: one that is much dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without sen- ding for ; whereas I was sent to by my husband's King to come. Now Mercy began to be very impatient, and each minute was as long to her as an hour; wherefore she prevented Christiana from a fuller interceding for her, by knocking at tne gate hersell. And she knocked then so loud, that she made Christiana to start. Then said the keeper of the gate, 4 Who is there V And Christiana said, * It is rey friend.' So he opened the gate and looked out, but Mercy was fallen down without in a swoon ; for she faimed,, and was afraid that no gate would be opened to her. Then he took her by the hand, and said, " Damsel, I bid thee arise." * O sir,' said she, < I am faint ; there is scarce life left in me.' But he answered that one said, " When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came unto thee, into thy holy temple.'* Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come. Mer. I am com« for that unto which I was never in- vited, as my friend Christiana was. Her's was from the King, and mine was but from her. Wherefore I presume. Good-will. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place ? Mcr. Yes ; and, as my Lord sees, I am come : and, if there is any grace and forgiveness of sins to spare, I beseech that thy poor handmaid may be made partaker thereof. * Jonah ii. 7. 200 the pilgrim's progress. Then he took her j?gain by the hand, and led her gen- tly in, and said, • I pray for all them that believe on me, by what means soever they come unto me/ Then said he to those that stood by, Fetch something, and give it Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her faintings.* So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh. Awhile af'er she was revived. And now was Christiana and her boys, and Mercy, received of the Lord at the head of the wa>, and spoke kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto him, * We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and further information what we must do.' I grant pardon, said he, by words and deed ? by word, in the promise of forgiveness ; by deed, in the way I ob- tained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed * Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they weie greatly gladden- ed. He also had them up to the lop of the gate, and showed them by what deed they were saved : and told them withal, that that sight they would have again as they went along in the way, to their comfort. So he left them awhile in a summer parlor below, where they entered into talk by" themselves : and thus Ghiistiana began : * O Lord, how glad am I that we are got in hither ! Mer. So you well may : but I of all have cause to leap for joy. Chr. I thought at one time as I stood at the gate (be- cause I had knocked and none did answer) that all our labor had been lost, especially when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking at us. Mer. But my worst fear was, after I saw that you was taken into his favor, and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, 4t Two women shall be grinding together, the one shall be ta- ken and the other left.f I had much ado to forbear cry- ing out, Undone ! And afraid I was to knock any more, but when I looked up to what was written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought, that 1 must either * Sol Song i. 2. T Matt. xxiv. 41 . THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 201 knock again or die : so I knocked, but I cannot tell how ; for my spirit now struggled between life and death. Chr. Can you tell how you knocked ? I am sure your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound made me start : I thought I never heard such knocking in all my life ; I thought you would come in by a violent hand, o:- to take the kingdom by storm.* Mer. Alas, to be in my case ! who that so was, could but have done so ? You saw that the dcor wa3 shut up- on me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, would not have knocked with ail their might? — But pray*. what said my Lord unto my rudeness ? Was be not angry with me ? Ckr. When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a wonderful innocnet smile : 1 believe what you did pleased him well, for he showed no sign to the contra- ry. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such :v dog : had I known that before, I should not have had heart enough to have ventured myself in this manner. But now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all my heart. Mer. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard : I hope he will not take it amiss. Do so, said the children, and persuade him to hang him ; for we are afraid he will bite us when we go hence. So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before him, and worship- ped, and said, ' Let my Lord accept the sacrifice of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips.' So he said unto her, } Peace be to thee ! stand up.' But she continued upon her face, and said, '* Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments ;"* wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a dog in the yard, at the sight of which such women and children as we are ready to flee from the gate for fear ? He answered and said. That dog has another owner : he is also kept close in another man's ground, only m^ *Matt. xi. 12. f Jer.*ik.l,£. 202 pilgrims hear his barking : he belongs to the castle which you see there at a distance, bat can come up to the walls of this place. He has frightened many an ho- nest pilgrim from, worse to better, by the great voice of Lis roaring. Indeed he that owneth hirn doth not keep him out of any good-will to me or mine, but with in- tent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to come and knock at this gate for entrance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I loved ; but I take ail at present pa- tiently. I also give my pilgrims timely help, so that they are not delivered up to his power, to do to them what his doggish nature would prompt him to. But what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much before-hand, thou wouldstnot have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door, will rather than they will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, barking, and biting too oi a dog : and shall a dog in another man's yard ; a dog whose, barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep a- ny from coming to me ? I deliver them from the lions, and " my darling from the power of the dog." Then said Mercy, I confess my ignorance ; I speak what I understand not : I acknowledge that thou doest all things well. Then Christiana began to talk of their journey, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them and washed their feet, and set them in the way of his steps, accord- ing as he had dealt with her husband before. Sol saw in my dream, that they went on their way ; a»d the weather was comfortable to them. Then Christiana began to sing, saying, Bless'd be the day that I began A pilgrim for to be ; And blessed aho be that man That thereunto mov'd me. 'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began To seek to live lor ever :* But now I run fast as I can ; 'Tis better late than never. Our tears to joy our fears to faith. *Matt. xx. \6. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. *203 Are turned as we see; That our beginning (.is one saith) ♦Shows what our end will be.' New there was on the other side of the wall, that fen- ced m t!,e way up which Christiana and her compan- ions were to go, a garden, and that belonged to him, whose was that barking dog, of whom mention was made before. And some of the fruit trees that grew in the garden, shot their branches over the wail ; and being mehow, they that found them did gather them up, and cat cf them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys (ys boys are apt to do) being pleased with the trees, and with the fruit that c! id hang thereon, did pluck them and began to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on. ' Weil,' said she, ' my sons, you transgress ; for that fruit is none of ours :' but she did not know that they did belong to the enemy : I'll warrant you, if she had, she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed and they went on their way. — Now, by that they were gone about two bow's shot from the place that led them into the way, they espied two very ill-favored ones coming down apace to meet them. With that Christiana and Mercy her friend covered themselves with their veils, and kept also on their journey ; the chil- dren also went en before : so that at last they met to- gether. Then they that came down to meet them, came just up to the women, as if they would embrace them : but Christiana said, ' Stand back, or go peaceably as you should.' Yet these twe, as men that are deaf, re- garded not Christiana's woids, but began to lay hands upon them : at that Christiana waxed very wroth, and spurned at them with herifect. Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, * Stand back, and be gone, for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims as you see, and such too as live upon the charity ol our friends.' Then said one of the two men, We make no assault upon your money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one small request which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever. New Christiana, imagining what they should mean, 204 the pilgrim's progress. made answer again, ' We will neither hear nor regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in haste, and cannot stay : our business is of life and death.* So again she and her companions made a fresh essay to get past them : but they letted them in the way. And they said, we intend no hurt to your lives ; 'tis another thing we would have. ' Ay,' quoth Christiana, * you would have us body and soul, for I know 'tis for that you are corne ; but we will die rather upon the spot, than suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall hazard our well-be- ing hereaf er.' And with that they both shrieked out and cr]ed, Murder ! Murder ! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women.* Uut the men still made their approach upon them, with design to prevail against them. They therefore cried out again. Now they being, as I said, not far from the gate, in at which they came, their voice was heard from where they were thither : wherefore some of the house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana's tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great scuffle : the children also stood crying by. Then did he that csime in for their relief call out to the ruffians, saying, i What is that thing that you do ? Would you make my Lord's people to transgress ?' He also at- tempted to take them ; but they did make their escape ever the w r all into the garden of the man to whom the great doe; belonged : so the dog became their prdttctor. This Relieve?- then came up to the women and asked them how they did. So they answered, ' We thank thy Prince, pretty well ; only we have been somewhat affrighted : we thank thee, also, that thou earnest in to our help, for otherwise we had been overcome.' So after some more words, this Reliever said as fol- loweth : I marvelled much, when you were entertained at the gate above, seeing, ye know that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord for a con- ductor ; then might you have, avoided these troubles and dangers : he would have granted you one. * Beut. xxii. 23— 2?. ! THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. *20j Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken with our pre- sent blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us : beside, who could have thought, that so near the king's palace, there should have lurked such naughty- ones ? Indeed it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one ; but since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us. Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not as- ked for> lest so doing they become of little esteem : but, when the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its due ; and so consequently will be hereafter used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would not, neither, so have bewailed that oversight of yours in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do. So all things work for good, and tend to make you more wary. Cfir. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and ask one ? ReL Your confession of your folly I will present him with : to go back again, you need not ; for in all places where you shall come you will find no want at all : for at every of my Lord's lodgings, which he has prepared for the reception of his pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatsoever. But as I said, " he will be inquired of by them, to do it for them."* And it is a poor thing that is not worth ask- ing for. — When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went on their way. Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here ! I made account we had been past all danger, and that we should never sorrow more. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my fault is so much the greater, for that I saw this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it where provision might have been had. I am much to be blamed. Then said Mercy, how knew you this when you came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle. Chr. Why, I will tell you. — Before I set foot out of doors, one night as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about ♦Erek. xxvi. 37. S 206 this : for methought I saw two men as like these as ev- er the world they could look, stand Lit my bed's feet, plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words : they said (it was when I was in my troubles) * What shall we do with this woman ? for she cries out waking and sleeping for forgiveness : if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husbsnd.' This you know might have made me take heed, and have provided when provisions might have been had. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an oc- casion ministered unto us to behold our imperfections, so our Lord has taken occasion thereby to manifest the riches of his grace; for he, as we see, has followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure. Thus now, when they had talked away a little more time, they drew near to an house that stood in the way ; which house was built for the relief of pilgrims : as you will find more fully related in the first part of the rec- ords of the Pilgrim's Progress. So they drew on to- wards the house (the house of the Interpreter) and, when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in the house : then they gave ear, and heard, as they thought, Christiana mentioned by name. For you must know, that there went along, even before her, a talk cf her and her children going on pilgrimage. And this was the more pleasing to them, because they had heard that she was Christian's wife, that woman who was some time a- go so unwilling to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, who they little thought stood at the door. — At last Christiana knocked, as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to the door a young damsel, named Inno- cent, and opened the door, and looked, and, behold, two women were there. Then said the damsel to them, * With whom would you speak in this place i* Christiana answered, We understand that this is a privileged place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such : wherefore we pray that THE PROGRESS. 207 we may be partakers of that for which we at tins time are corns ; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and wc areloth to night to go any further. Dam. Pray what may I call your name, that I may tell it o my Lord within ? Ckr. My name is Christiana ; I was the w'ife of that pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way ; and these be his four children. This maiden is also my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too. Then ran Innocent in (for that was her name)^ and said to those within, ' Can you think who is at the door? there is Christiana and her children, and her companion, al* waiting for entertainment here ? Then they leaped for joy, and Went and tokU their master. So he came to the door, and, looking upon her, he said, * Art thou that Christiana whom Christian the good man left be- hind him when he betook himself to a pilgrim's life V Chr. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as to slight my husband's troubles, and that left him to go on his journey alone : and these are his four children ; but now I aiso am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this. Biter. Then is fulfilled that which is written of the*, man that said to his son, " Go work to-day in my vine- yard ; and he said to his father, I will not : but after- wards repented and went."* Then said Christiana, So be it : Amen. God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found £t the last " of him in peace, without spot, and blame- less !" Liter. But why standest thou at the door ? Come in, thou daughter of Abraham: we were talking of thee but now, for tidings have come to us before, how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in : come maiden, come — So he had them all into the house. So, when they were within, they were bidden to sit down and rest them ; the which when they had done, those that attended upon the pilgrims in the house came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and ano- ther smiled, and they all smiled, for joy that Christian?. was become a pilgrim : they also looked upon the * Matt, xxi, 23, 29. 208 the pilgrim's progress. boys ; they stroked them over their faces with their hands in token of their kind reception of them ; they al- so carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all wel- come into their Master's house. After a while, because supper was not ready, the In- terpreter took them into his signijicant rooms, and show- ed them what Christian, Christiana's husband had seen some time before. Here, therefore, they saw the man in the cage, the man and his dream* the man that cut his way through his enemies, and the picture of the big- gest of all ; together with the rest of those things that were then so profitable to Christian. This done, and. after those things had been somewhat digested by Christiana and her company r the Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them first into a room where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a muck-rake in his hand i there stood also one o- ver his head with a Celestial crown in his hand, and proffered him that crown for his muck-rake ; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but raked to him- self the straws, the small sticks, and dust of the floor. Then said Christiana, I persuade myself that I know somewhat the meaning ol this ; for this is the figure of a man in this world ; is it not, good Sir ? Thou hast said right, said he, and his muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And, whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than do what he says that calls to him from above, with the celestial crow* in his hand ; it is to show that heaven is but a fable to some, and that things here ore counted the only things substantial. Now whereas as it was also showed thee, that the man could look no way but downwards, it is to let thee know, that earthly things, when they are with power upon men's minds, quite cany their hearts away from God. Then said Christiana, O ! deliver me from this muck- rake. That prayer, said the Interpreter, has lam by till it is almost rusty : 4l Give me not riches," is scarce the pray- er oi one of ten thousand.* Straws and sticks, and dust, with most are the greatest things now looked after< Prov. xxx. 8. THE pilgrim's progress. 209 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, ' It is, alas ! too true.' When the Interpreter had showed them this, he had them into the very best room in the house (a very brave room it was :) s ° Iie D *d them look round about, and see if they could find any thing profitable there. Then they looked round and round ; for there was nothing to be seen but a very great spider on the wall : and that they overlooked. Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing : but Christiana held her peace. But, said the Interpreter, * Look again :* she there- fore looked again, and said, ' Here is not any thing but an ugly spider, who hangs by her hands upon the wall.' * Then,' said he, ' is there but one spider in all this spa- cious room ?' Then the water stood in Christiana's eyes, for she was a woman quick of apprehension : and she said, ' Yes, Lord, there is more here than one : yea, and spiders whose venom is far more destructive than that which is in her.' The Interpreter then looked plea- santly on her, and said, ' Thou hast said the truth." This made Mercy blush, and the boys to cover their fa- ces ; for they all began now to understand the riddle. Then said the Interpreter again, " The spider taketh hold with her hands (as you see) and is in kings' pala- ces." And wherefore is this recorded, but to khow you, that how full of the venom of sin soever you be, yet you may, by the hand of faith, lay hold of, and dwell in, the best room that belongs to the king's house above ? I thought, said Christiana, of something of this ; but I could not imagine it all. I thought, that we were like piders, and that we looked like ugly creatures in what fine rooms soever we were ; but that by this spi- der, this venomous and ill-favored creature, we were to learn how to act faith, that came no into my thoughts; that she worketh with her hands ; and, as I see, dwells in the best room in the house. God has made nothing in vain. Then they seemed all to be glad ; but the water stood in their eyes : yet they looked one upon another, and also bowed before the Interpreter. He had them then into another room, where was a S 2 210 THE PILGIUM'S PROGRESS. hen and chickens, and bid them observe a while, one of the chickens went to the trough to drink, and ev- ery time she drank she lifted up her head and her eyes towards heaven. < See/ said he, ' what this little chick doeth, and learn of her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Yet again,' said he, « observe and look ;' so they gave heed, and perceived that the hen did walk in a fourfold me- thod towards her chickens. 1. She had a common call, and that she had all the day long. 2. She had a afiecial call, and that she had but sometimes. 3. She had a brooding note. ' And, 4. She had an out-cry* Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these chickens to his obedient ones. For, answerable to her, himself has his methods, which he walketh in towards his people : by his common call he gives no- thing ; by his special call he always has something to give . he has also a brooding voice for them that are under his wing ; and he has an outcry, to give the a- larm when he seeth the enemy come. I choose, my darlings, to lead you into the room where such things are, because you are women, and they are easy for you. 4 And, sir/ said Christiana, 'pray let us see some more.' So he had them into the slaughter-house, where "was a butcher killing of sheep : and, behold, the sheep "was quiet, and took her death patiently. ' Then,' said the Interpreter, ' you must leam of this sheep to suffer, and to put up v rongs without murmurings and com- plaints. Behold how quietly she takes her death, and, ■without objecting:, she suffereth her skin to be pulled over her ears — Your King doth call you his sheep.' After this he led them into his garden, where was a great variety of flowers : and he said, * Do you see all these V So Christiana said, * Yes.' Then said he again, * Behold the flowers are diverse in stature, in quality, and color, and smell, and virtue ; and some are better tharj some ; also where the gardener hath set them, there they stand, and quarrel not one with anothei.' A«ain, be hsd them into the field, which he had sown "with wheat and corn: but, when they beheld, the tops of at] were rut off, oniy the straw remained. He said again, k This ground was dunged and plowed, and * Matt. xxiu. 37. THE PILGRIM^ PROGKE89. 211 sowed ; bnt what shall we do with the crop ? Then said Christiana, ' Burn some, and make muck of the rest.' Then said the Interpreter again, * Fruit, you see, is that thing; you look for, and for want of that you condemn it to the fire, and to be trodden under the foot of men : beware that in this you condemn not yourselves.' ' Then, as they were coming in from ; to wit. *flE PILGRIM'S PR0GRE9S. 217 a he way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know something : but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great- Heart, I suppose you know ; which, if you please, let us hear your discourse thereof. Gr.~h. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained by some one, for another that hath need thereof : not by the person pardoned, but in ' the way/ saith anoth- er, in which I have obtained it.' — So then (to speak to i he questions more at large,) the pardon that you, and Mercy, and these boys have attained by another, to wit, by him that let you in at the gate : and he hath obtained it in this double way : he hath performed righteousness lo cover you, and spilt blood to wash you in. Chr. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what will he have for himself ? Gr.-h. He has more righteousness than you haVe need of, or than he needeth himself. Chr. Pray make that appear. Gr.-h, With all my heart : but first I must premise, that he of whom we are now about to speak, is one that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Un-« to each of these natures a righteousness belongeth, and each righteousness is essential to that nature. So that one may as easily cause the natures to be extinct, as to separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of these righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made partakers, so that they, or any of them, should be put upon us, that we might be made just, and live thereby. Besides these, there is righteousness which this Person has, as these two natures are joined in one. And this is not the righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the manhood ; nor the righteousness of the manhood, as distinguished from the Godhead ; but a righteousness which standeth in the union of both natures, and may properly be called the righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity of the media- tory office, which he was entrusted with. If he parts with his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead; f he parts with his second righteousness, he parts with he purity of his manhood : if he parts with his third, T 218 the pilgrim's progress. he parts with that perfection which capacitates him to the office of mediation. He has therefore another rtghteousness, which standeth in performance, or obe- dience to a revealed will : and that is what he puts upon sinners, and, that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, "As by one man's disobedience, many were made sinners : so by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous."* Chr. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us ? Gr.-h. Yes : for though they are essential to his na- tures and office, and cannot be communicated unto ano- ther, yet it is by virtue of them that the righteousness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The right- eousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience; the righteousness cf his manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify ; and the righteousness that stand- eth in the union of these two natures to his ( ffice, giveth authority to that righteousness to do the work for which it was ordained. So then here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has no need of; for he is God without it : here is a righ- teousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he is perfect man without it : again, here is a righteousness that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is perfectly so without it. Here then is a righteousness that Christ, as God, and as God-man, has no need of, with reference to himself, and therefore he can spare it : a justifying righteousness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore giveth it away. Hence it is called " the gift of righteousness."! — This righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the law, must be given away ; for the law doth not only bind him that is under it, to do justly, but to use charity. Wherefore he must, or ought by the law, if he hath two coats, to give one to him that has none. Now our Lord indeed hath two coats, one for himself and one to spare : wherefore he freely bestows one upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the work of another man ? Your Lord Christ is he that worketh, and hath given "Rom. v. 19. fRom. v. 17 PROGRESS. 219 away what he -wrought for, to the next poor beggar he meets. But again in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to God as a price as well as some- thing prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law : now from this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we have done ; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed souls with righteousness ;* for the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will not hurt you, when he comes to judge the world. Chr. This is brave : now I see that there was some- thing to be learned by our being pardoned by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labor to keep this in mind ; and my children, do you remember it also. — But, Sir, was not this it that made my good Christian's burden fall from off his shoulder, and that made him give three leaps for joy ? Gr.-h. Yes, it was the beliet of this that cut off those strings, that could not be cut by other means ; and it was to give him a proof of the virtue of this, that he was suffered to carry his burden to the cross. Chr. I thought so ; for though my heart was lightful and joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt (though I have felt but little as yet) that if the most burdened man in the world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, it would make his hearc the more merry and blithe. - Gr.-h. There is not only one comfort, and the ease of a burden brought to us, by the sight and considera- tion of these, but an endeared affection begot in us by it : for who can, (if he does but once think that pardon comes not only by promise but thus) but be affected with the way and means of redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him ? * Rom. viii. 34. Gal. iii. 13. 220 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Chr. True : methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should bleed for me. Oh ! thou loving one ! Oh ! thou blessed One ! Thou deservest to have me ; thou hast bought me ; thou deservest to have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am worth ! — No marvel that this made the water stand in my husband's eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished ine with him ; but, vile wretch that I was ! 1 let him come all alone. O Mercy, that thy father and mother were here ; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also : nay, I wish now with all my heart, that here was madam Wanton too. Surely, surely, their hearts would be affected ; nor could the fear of the one, nor the powerful lusts of the ©ther, prevail with them to go home again and refuse to become good pilgrims. Gr.-h. You speak now in the warmth of your affec- tions : will it, think yo^be always thus with you ? Be- sides, that is net communicated to every one, nor to ev- ery one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that stood by, and that saw the blood run from the heart to the ground, and yet were so far offthii, that, instead of la- menting^ they laughed at him ; and, instead of becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So that all that vou have, my daughters, you have by pecu- liar impression, made by a divine contemplatine- unorj ^«at I n«Vc spoken to you. Kemember that it was told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her chickens. This you have therefore by a special grace. Now I saw still in my dream, that they went on until they were come to the place that Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption, lay and slept in, when Christian went by on pilgrimage : and, behold they were hanged up in i- rons a little way off on the other side. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, * What are these three men ? and for what are they hanged there V Gr.-h. These three men were men of bad qualities ; they had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and whom- soever they could they hindered : they. were for sloth and folly themselves, and whomsoever they could per- suade, they made so too ; and withal taught them to resume that tbey should do well at last. They were THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 22] asleep when Christian "went by ; and now you go by they are hanged. Mer. Bat could they persuade any one to be of their opinion ? Gr.-h- Yes, they turned several out of the way. There was Slow- pace, they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one Short-wind, with one No- heart, with one Linger-after-lust, and with one Sleepy- head, and wi.h a young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the way and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading oth- ers that he was a hard task master. They also brought up an evil report of the good land, saying it was not half so good as some pretended it was. They also began to vilify his servants, and to count the best of them med- dlesome, troublesome, busy-bodies : further they would call the bread of God, husks : the comforts of his chil- dren, fancies ; the travail and labor of pilgrims things to no purpose. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such they should never be bewailed by me : they have but what they de- serve ; and I think it well that they stand so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven on some pillar of iron or brass, and left here where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men ? Gr.-h. So it is, as you may well perceive, if you will go a little to the wall ? Mer. No, no ; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live for ever against them ; I think it is a high favor that they are hanged before we came hither ; who knows else what they might have done to such poor women as we are ? Then she turned it into a song, saying— * Now then yon three hang there and be a sign To all that shall against the truth combine. And let him that comes after fear this end, If unto pilgrims he is not a frieud. And thou, my sou T , of all such men beware, That unto holiness opposers are.' Thus they went on, till they came at the foot of the bill Difficulty, where again their good friend Mr, Great* T2 222 the pilgrim's progress. heart took an occasion to tell them what happened there when Christian himself went up. So he had them first to the spring ; Lo saith he, this is the spring that Chris- tian drank of befoie he went up this hill ; and then it was clear and good, but now it is dirty with the feet of some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst.* Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow ? But said the guide, It will do, if ta- ken up and put into a vessel that is sweet and good ; for then the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water come out by itself more clear. Thus therefore Chris- tiana and her companions were compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof. Next he showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill, where Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And, said he, these are dangerous paths : two were here cast away which Christian came by. And although you see these wdys since are stopped up with chains, posts, and a ditch, yet there are they that will choose to adventure here, rather than take the •pains to go up this hill. Chr. " The way of transgressors is hard :"f it is a wonder that they can get into those ways without dan- ger of breaking their necks. Gr.-h. They will venture ; yea, if at any time any of the king's servants do happen to see them, and doth call upon them and tell them, that they are in the wrong ways, and do bid them beware of the danger, then they railingly return them answer, and say, rt As for the word ♦hat thou hast spoken unto us in the name of the King, we will not hearken unto thee ; but we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth out of our mouths. ,J | Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see that these ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and chain, but also by being hedged up ; yet they will choose to go there. Chr. They are idle : they love not to take pains : up- hill way is unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto them as it is written.—" The way of the slothful man * Saek, Miir, 18. fProv, stii. 15. J Jer. ilfcr. 1«> HT. the pilgrim's progress. 223 £3 an hedge of thorns. 1 '* Yea, they will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill, and the rest offchis way to the city. Then they set forward and began to go up the hill, and up the hill they went ; but befoi e they got up to the top, Christiana began to pant, and said, 1 dare say this is a breathing hill f no marvel if they that love their ease more than their souls choose to themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; al- so the least of the children began to cry : Come, come, said Grd&c-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince's arbor. Then he took the little boy by the hand, and led him thereto. When they were come to the arbor, they were very willing to sit down, for they were all in a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, How sweet is rest to them that la- bor !f and how good is the prince of pilgrims, to pro- vide such resting places for them ! Of this arbor I have heard much ; but I never saw it. belcre. But here let us beware of sleeping : for as I have heard, for that it cost poor Christian dear. Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my pretty boys, how do you do ? What think you now of going on pilgrimage ? Sir, said the least, I was al- most beat out of heart : but I thank you for lending me a hand at my need. And I remember now that my mo- ther hath told me, namely, that the way to heaven is as a ladder, and the way to hell is down a hill. But I had ra- ther go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death, Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, To go down 4he hill is easy : but James said (for that was his name) The day is coming, when, in my opinion, going down the hill will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said his master ; thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit to sweeten your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs ? For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which Mr. In- terpreter put into my hand just when I came out of his doors ; he gave me also a piece of an honey-comb, and a little bottle of spirits. * I thought he gave you some- * Prov. xv. 19. f Matt. si. 28, 224 the pilgrim's progress. thing/ said Mercy, because he called you aside.' « Yes, so he did, said the other. ' But,' said Christiana, i it shall be still as 1 said it should, when at first we came from home ; thou shalt be a sharer m ail the good that I have, because thou didst so willingly become my com- panion.' The:i she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, ' Sir, will you do as we ? But he answered, You arc going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall re- turn : much good may what you have do to you. At home I eat the same every day.' ' Now when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their guide said to them, « The day wears away ; if thou think good, let us prepare to be going.' So they got up to go, and the little boys went before : but Christia- na forgot to take her bottle of spirits with her j so she sent her little boy back to fetch it. Then said Mercy, 4 I think this is a losing place.' Here ' Christian lost his roll ; and here Christiana left her bottle behind her; Sir, what is the cause of this ?' So their guide made answer, and said, ' The cause is sleep or forgetfulness : some ?leep when they should be awake ; and some forget when they should remember; and this is the very cause, why often at the resting-places some pilgrims in some things come off losers. Pilgrims Bhould watch and remember what they have already received under grea- test enjoyments ; but for want of doing so, oftentimes their rejoicing ends in tears, and their sunshine in a cloud : — witness the story of Christian at this place.' When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met Christian to persuade him to go back for fear ol the lions, they perceived as it were a ; tage, and before it, towards the road, a broad place, with a copy of verses written thereon, and underneath, the reason of raising up of that stage in that place ren- dered. The verses were — * Let him that sees that stage take heed Upon his heart and tongue : Lest if he do not here he speed As some have long agone.' The words underneath the verses were, * This stage was built to punish such upon, who, through timorous- 225 ness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pilgri- mage : also on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burnt through the tongue with a hot iron, for en- deavoring to hinder Christian on his journey. Then said Mercy, This is much like to the saying of the Beloved, " What shall be given unto thee ; or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue ? sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of the juniper."* So they went on till they came within sight of the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid of a lion : but yet when they were come up to the place where the lions were, the boys that went before were glad to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the lions ; so they stept back and went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said, i How now, my boys ; do you love to go before when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear V Now as they went on, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword with intent to make way for the pilgrims in spite of the lions. Then there appeared one, that it seems had taken upon him to back the lions ; and he said to the pilgrim's guide, ' What is the cause of your com- ing hither V Now the name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slaying cf pilgrims; and he was of the race of the giants. Tucu s-^ivl u»a jyilgriffijr guiut; These women and children are going on pilgrimage ; and this is the way they must go, and go it they shall, in spite cf thee and the lions. Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come forth to withstand them, and to that end will back the lions. Now, to say the truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, and of the grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much unoccupied, and was almost all growji over with grass. Then said Christiana, Though the highways have been unoccupied heretofore, and though the travellers have been made in times past to walk through by-paths, it must not be so now I am risen ; " Now I am risen a mother in Israel."! * Ps. czx. 3, i. f Judg. v. 6, 7. 226 the pilgrim's progress. Then he swore by the lions, but it should : and therefore b'd them turn aside, fjr they should not have passage there. But their guide made first his approach unto Grim, and laid so heavily on him with hi* sword, that he forced him to retreat. Then said he that attempted to back the lions, * Will you slay me upon mine own ground .'' Gr.-h. It is the King's highway that we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed ths, lions; but these women and these children, though weak, shall hold on their way in spite of the lions. — And with that he gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this blow he also broke his helmet, and with the next cut off an arm. Then did the giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the women ; and yet they were glad to see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were chained, and so of them- selves could do nothing. Wherefore, when old Gtim that intended to back them, was dead, Great-heart said to the Pilgrims, < Come now, and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the lions.' They there- fore went on, but the women trembled as they passed by them ; the boys also looked as if they would die, but they all got by without further hurt. Now, when they were within sight of-the porter's lodge, they soon came up unto it ; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it is danger- ous travelling there in the night. So when they were come to the gate, the guide knocked, and the porter cried, « Who is there V But as soon as the guide had said, 4 It is 1/ he knew his voice, and came down (for the guide had oft before that come thither as a conduc- tor of pilgrims.) When he was come down, he open- ed the gate, and, seeing the guide standing just before it (for he saw not the women, for they were behind him) he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great-heart, what is your business here so*' late at night? ' I have brought/ s-id he, c some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord's commandment they must lodge : J had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the gi- ant that used to back the lions. But I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in safety.' THE PILGRIM'S PH0GRES9. "2*27 Par. Will not you go in and stay till morning ? Gr.-h. No, I will return to my Lord to-night ? Chr. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing you should leave us in our pilgrimage : you have been so faithful and so loving to us, you have fought so stoutly for us. you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that I shall never forget your favor towards us. Then said Mercy, Oh that we might have thy com- pany to our journey's end ! How can such poor women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as this way is, without a friend or defender ? Then said James, the youngest of the boys, Pray, Sir, be persuaded to go with us, and help us because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous as it is. Gr.-h. I am at my Lord's commandment : if he shall allot me to be your guide quite through, I will willing- ly wait upon you. But here you failed at first; for when he bid me come thus fai with you, then you should have begged me of him to have gone quite through with you, and he would have granted your re- quest. However, at present I must withdraw ; and so good Christiana, Mercy, and my brave children, adieu. Then the porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Christiana of her country, and of her kindred : and she said, 4 1 came from the city of Destruction ; I am a widow woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was Christian, the pil- grim.* ' How!' said the porter, ' was he your husband ? 4 Yes,' said she, ' and these his children ; and this, (poin- ting to Mercy) ' is one of my towns women.' Then the porter rang his bell, as at such time he is -wont, and there came to the door one of the damsels, whose name was Humble-mind. And to her the porter said, ' Go tell it within that Christiana the wife of Christian, and her children are come hither on pilgrimage.' She went in, therefore, and told it. But, oh, what noise for gladness was therein, when the damsel did but drop that out of her mouth \ So they came with haftfe to the porter, for Christiana stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, ' Come in, Christiana, come in, thou wife of that good man : come in, thou blessed woman, come fn, with all that are with thee ' So she went in, and they followed her that were her children and her companions. 228 THE PILGRIM'* PROGRESS. Now when they were gone in, they were had into a large room, and bid to sit down : so they sat down, and the chief of the house were called to see and welcome the guests. Then they came in, and, understanding who they were, did salute each other with a kiss and -aid, * Welcome ye vessels of the grace of God, wel- some unto us who are your faithful friends/ Now, because it was somewhat late> and because the pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also made faint with the sight of the fight, and the terrible lions, they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest. ' Nay,' said those of the family, * refresh your- selves with a morsel of meat ;' for they had prepared for :hem a lamb, with the accustomed sauce thereto.* For the porter had heard before of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest. * But let us,' said Christiana, * if we may be so bold as to choose, be in that chamber that was my husband's when he was here.' So they had them up thither, and they all lay in a room.f When they were at rest, Christiana and Mercy entered into dis- course about things that were convenient. Chr. Little did I think once, when my husband went on pilgrimage, that I should ever have followed him. Mer. And you as little thought of lying in his bed, and in his chamber to rest, as you do now. Chr. And much less did I ever think of seeing his face with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King with him ; and yet now I be!;eve I shall ! Mer. Hark, don't you hear a noise? Chr. Yes, 'tis, as 1 believe, a noise of music for joy that we are here. Mer. Wonderful ! Music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we are here! Thus they talked awhile and then betook themselves to sleep. So in the morning wh^n they were awaked, Christiana said to Mercy, ' What was the matter that y«u did laugh in your sleep to-night? I suppose you was in a dream.' * Exod. xii. 3. f John i. 29. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 229 &fer. So I was, and a sweet dream it was ; but are you sure I laughed ? Chr. Yes; you laughed heartily: but pr'ythee, Mer- cy, tell me thy dream. Mer. I was a dreaming that I sat all alone in a solitary place, and was bemoaning of the hardness of my heart. Now I had not sat there long, but methought many were gathered about to see me, and to hear what it was that I said. So they hearkened, and I went on bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them laugh- ed at me, some called me a fool, and some began to thrust me about. With that, methought 1 looked up, and saw one coming with wings towards me. So he came directly to me and said, * Mercy, what aileththee V Now when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, * Peace be to thee :' he also wiped mine eyes with bis handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He put a chain upon my neck, and ear-rings in mine enrs, and a beautiful crown upon my head.* Then he took me by the hand, and said, ' Mercy, come after me.' So he went up, and I followed, till we came at a golden gate. Then he knocked : and when they within had opened, the man went in, and I followed him up to a throne, upon whieh one sat, and he said to me, ' Wel- come daughter.' The place looked bright and twink- ling, like the stars, or like the sun, and I thought that I saw y©ur husband there. So 1 awoke from my dream. But did I laugh ? Chr. Laugh ! ay, and well you might, to see yourself so well. For you must give me leave to tell you, that it was a good dream ; and that as you have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at last. " God speaks once, yea, twice, yet man perceived* it not; in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumbering upon the bed/'f We need not, when a bed, to lie awake to talk with God : he can visit us while we sleep, and cause lis to hear his voice. Our heart oft-times wakes when we sleep ; and God can speak to that, either by by proverbs, by signs or similitudes, as well as .one was awake. * Ezek. xvi. 3—13. f Job x v V 230 the pilgrim's progress. Mer. Well, I am glad of ray dream, for I hope, ere long, to see it fulfilled, to the making me laugh again. Chr. 1 think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must do. Mer. Pray, if they advise us to stay awhile, let us willingly accept of the proffer. I am the wil linger to stay awhile here, to grow better acquainted with these maids : methinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity, have very comely and sober countenances. Chr. We shall see what they will do. — So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not. Very good, said Mercy ; it was one of the best night's lodgings that ever I had in my life. Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be persua- ded to stay here a while, you shall have what the house will afford. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity.— So they consented, and staid there about a month or a- bove, and became very profitable one to another. And, because Prudence would see how Christiana had brought up her children, she asked leave of her to cat- echise them : so she gave her free consent. Then she began with the youngest, whose name was James. And she said, ' Come, James, canst thou tell we who made thee V Jam. God the Father, God the Son, apd God the Ho- ly Ghost. Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saved thee ? Jam. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prud. Good boy still. But how doth the Father save thee ? Jam. By his grace. Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? Jam. By his righteousness, and blood, and death, and life. Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? Jam. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his preservation. Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be commended for thus bringing up your children. I sup- THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 231 pose I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them can answer them so well. 1 will therefore now apply myself to the next youngest. Then she said, Come, Joseph (for his name was Jo- seph,) will you let me catechise you ? Jos. With all my heart. Prud. What is man ? Jon. A reasonable creature, made so by God, as my brother said. Prud. What is supposed by this word, saved ? Jos. That man by sin has brought himself into a state ot captivity and misery. Prud. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity.? Jos. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant, that none can pull us out of its clutches, but God ; a;id that God is so good and loving to man, as to pull him in- deed out of this miserable state. Prud. What is God's desire in saving poor man ! Jos. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and jus- tice, &c ; and the everlasting happiness of his creature. Prud. Who are they that must be saved ? Jos. Those that accept of his salvation. Prud. Good boy, Joseph ; thy mother hath taught thee well, and thou hast hearkened to what she has said unto thee. Then said Prudence to Samuel (who was the eldest son but one) Come, Samuel, are you willing that I should catechise you also ? Sam. Yes, forsooth, if you please. Prud. What is heaven ? Sam. A place and state most blessed, because God dwelleth there. Prud. What is hell ? Sam. A place and state most woful, because it is the dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. Prud. Why wouldst thou go to heaven ? Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without weariness : that I may see Christ, and love him ever- lastingly ; that I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in me, that I can by no means here enjoy. Prud. A very good boy, and one that has learned %y e ]i — Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose 232 THE PILGRIM^ PROGRESS. name was Matthew ; and she said to him. Come, Mat- thew, shall I also catechise you ? Mat. With a very good will. Prud. I ask, then, if there was ever any thing that had a being antecedent to, or before God ? Mat. No ; for God is eternal ; nor is there any thing, excepting himself, that had a being until the begin- ning of the first day : " For in six days the. Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in tnem is." Prud. What do you think of the Bible ? Mat. It is the Holy word oi God. Prud. Is there nothing written therein but What you understand ? Mat. Yes, a great deal. Prud. What do you do when you meet with places therein that you do not understand ? Mat. I think God is wiser than I. I pray also that he will please to let me know all therein, that he knows "will be for my good. Prud. How believe you, as touching the resurrection of the dead ? Mat. I believe they shall rise, the same that was bu- ried ; the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe this upon a double account : — First, be- cause God has promised it :— secondly, because he is a- nle to perform it. Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still hear- ken to your mother, for she can learn you more. You must also diligently give ear to what good talk you shall hear from others : for your sakes do they speak good things. Observe also, and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth do teach you ; but especially be much in the meditation of that, book, that was the cause of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, for my part, my children, will teach you what I csn while you are'here, and shall be glad if you will ask me questions that tend to godly edifying. Now by that these pilgrims had been at this place a week, Mercy had a visitor that pretended some g will unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk, a man of some breeding, and that pretended to religion; but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love THE pilgrim's progress. 233 to her. — Now Mercy was of a fair countenance,and there- fore the more alluring. Her mind also was, to be al- ways busying of herself in doing ; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would be making of hose and garments for others, and would bestow them upon them that had need. And Mr. Brisk, not knowing where or how she disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken for that he found her never idle. ■ I -will warrant her a good housewife,' quoth he to himself. Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired of them concerning him ; for they did know him better than she. So they told her, that he was a very busy young man, and one that pretended to religion ; but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which is good. Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him ; for I propose never to have a clog to my soul. Prudence then replied that there needed ro great matter of discouragement to be given to him ; for con- tinuing so, as she had begun, to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage. So the next time he comes, he finds her at her old work, a making things for the poor. Then said he, M What, always at it ?" * Yes,' said she, i either for my- self or for others.' ' And what canst thou earn a day, quoth he.' * I do these things,' said she, ' That I may be rich in good works, laying a good foundation against the time to come, that 1 may lay hold of eternal life.* Why pr'ythee, what dost thou do with them V said he. 1 Clothe the naked,' said she. With that his counte- nance fell. So he forbore to come to her again. And when he was asked the reason why, he said that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill-conditions. When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee ? yea, he will raise up an ill report of thee : for, notwithstanding his pretence to religion, and his seeming love to mercy, yet mercy and he are of tempers so different, that I be- lieve they will never come together. Mer. I might have had husbands before now, though I spoke not of it to any ; but they were such as did not * 1 Tim, vi, 17—19. 234 like my conditions, though never (lid any of them find fault with my person. So they and I could not agree. Prud. Mercy in our days is little set by, any further than as to its name : the practice, which is set forth by the conditions, there are but few that can abide. Well, said Mercy, if nobody .will have me, 1 will die a maid, or my conditions shall be to me as a husband : fori cannot change my nature; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as long as I live. 1 had a sister, named Bountiful, mar- ried to one of these churls : but he and she could never agree ; but, because my sister was resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors. Prud. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you ! Mer. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as the world is now full : but I am for none of them all. Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and his sickness was sore upon him, for he was much pained in his bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled, as it were, bGth ends together. There dwelt also not far from thence, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and well approved physician. So Christiana desired it, and they sent for him, and he came : when he was entered the room, and had a little observed the boy, he conclu- ded that he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his inother, ' What diet has Matthew of late fed upon ?* * Diet!' said Christiana; 'nothing but what is whole- some/ The physician answered, ' This boy has been tampering with something that lies in his maw undi- gested, and that will not away without means. And I tell you he must be purged or else he will die.' Then said Samuel, Mother, what was that which my brother did gather and eat, so soon as we were come from the gate that is at the head of the way ? You know that there was an orchard on the left hand, on the oth- er side of the wall, and some of the trees hung over the •Wall, and my brother did pluck and did eat. True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof, and did eat ; naughty boy as he was, I chid him, and yet he would eat thereof Skill* I Knew he had eaten something that was no ^P THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 230 wholesome food ; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is e- ven the most hurtfui of all. It is the fruit of Beelzebub's orchard. 1 do marvel that none did warn you of it; ma- ny have died thereof. Then Christiana began to cry ; and she said, ' O naughty boy 1 and O careless mother 1 what shall 1 do for my son V Skill. Come, do not be too dejected ; the boy may do well again, but he must purge and vomit. Chr. Pray, Sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it costs. Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. — So he made him a purge, but it was too weak ; it was said, it was made of the blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hysop, &c* When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, he made him one for the purpose : it was made ex came ct ealiguine Christi ;f (you know physicians give strange medicines t€ their patients :) and it was made up into pills, with a promise or two, and a proportionable quantity of salt.:}: Now he was to take them three at a time, fasting, in half a quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. j When this potion was prepared, and brought to the boy, he was loth to take it, though torn with the gripes, as if he should be puiled in pieces. * Come, come/ said the physician, 1 you must take it.' ' It goes against my sto- mach/ said the boy. i I must have you take it/ said his mother. ' I shall vomit it up again/ said the boy. « Pray sir/ said Christiana to Mr. Skill, ' how does it taste V i It has no ill taste/ said the doctor ; and with that she touched one of the pills with the tip of her tongue. ' Oh, Matthew 7 / said she, ' this potion is sweeter than honey. If thou lovest thy mother, il thou lovest thy brothers, if thou lovest Mercy, if thou lovest thy life, take it.' So with much ado, after a short prayer for the blessing of God upon it, he took it, and it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, to sleep, and to rest quietly ; it put him into a fine heat and breathing sweat, and rid him of his gripes. So in a little time he got up, and walked about with * Heb. ix. 13—19. x. 1—4. f John vi. 54—57. Heb. ix. 14. I Mark ix, 49. $ Zech. xii. 10. •236 the nlgrim\i progress. a staff, and would go from room to room, and talk with Prudence, Piety at d Charity of his distemper, and how he was healed. So when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. Skill saying, ' Sir, what will content you for your pains and care to me, and of my child V And he said, ' You must pay the Master of the College of Physicians, ac- cording to rules made in that case, and provided.'* But, Sir, said she* what is this pill gooci for else ? Skill, it is an universal pill ; it is good against all diseases that pilgrims are incident to ; and, when it is well prepared, will keep good time out of mind. Chr. Pray, Sir, make me up twelve boxes of them : for, if I can get these, I will never take- other physic. Skill. These pills are good to prevent disease, as well as to cure when one is sick. Yea, I dare say it, and stand to it, that if a man will but use this physic as .he should, it will make him live for eveivj- But good Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way, but as I have prescribed : for if you do, they will do no good. So he gave unto Christiana physic for herself, and her boys, and for Mercy ; and bid Matthew take heed how he eat any more green plums ; and kissed him and went his way. It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that if at any time they would, they should ask her some questions that might be profitable, and she would say something to thern. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, Why, for the most part, physic should be bitter to our palates ? Prud. To show how unwelcome the word of God, and the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. Mat. Why does physic, if it does good, purge, and cause to vomit ? Prud. To show, that the word, when it works effec- tually, cleanseth the heart and mind. Foi, look, what the one doeth to the body, the other doeth to the soul. Mat. What should we learn by seeing the flame of our fire go upwards ? and by seeing the beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards ? Prud. By the going up ^f the fire, we are taught to as- * Heb. xiii. 11—15. t Johnvi. 58. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 237 cend to heaven, by fervent and hot desires. And by the -sun sending his heat, beams, and sweet influences downwards, we arejtaught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reaches down with his grace and love to us below. Mat. Where have the clouds their water ? Prud. Out of th,e sea Mat. YV hat may we learn from that ? Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from God. Mat. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth ? Prud. To show that ministers should give out what they know of God to the world. Mat. Why is the rainbow caused by the sun ? Prud. To show, that the covenant of God's grace is confirmed to us in Christ. Mat. Why do the springs come from the sea to us through the earth ? Prud. To show, that the, grace of God comes to us through the body of Christ. Mat. Why do some of the springs rise out of the top of the hills? Prud. To show, that the Spirit of grace shall spring np in some that are great and mighty, as well as in maijy that are poor and low. Mat. Why doth the fire fasten upon the candlewick ? Prud. To show, that, unless grace doth kindle upon the heart, there will be no true light oi life in us. Mat. Why is the wick, and tallow, and all, spent, to maintain the light of the candle ? Prud. To show, that body and soul, and all, should be at the service, and spend themselves to maintain in good condition, that grace of God that is in us. Mat. Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast with her bill ? Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blcod, thereby to show that Christ the blessed, so ioveth his youn.' s -, his people, -as to save them from death by his blood. Mat. What may one learn by hearing of the cock crow ? Prud Learn to remember Peter's sin and Peter's re- pentance. The cock's crowing shows also, that day is 238 coming on : let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last and terrible clay of judgment. Now about this time their month was out; where- fore they signified to those of the house, that it was con- venient for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his mother, " It is convenient that you forget not to send to the house of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him to grant that Mr. Great-heart should be sent unto us, that he may be our conductor the rest of our way." " Good boy/ said she, * I had almost forgot.' So she drew up a petition, and prayed Mr. Watchful the porter, to send it by some fit man, to her good friend Mr. Interpreter ; who, when it was cone, and he had seen the contents of the petition, said to the messenger, ' Go, tell them that I will send him..' When the family, where Christiana was, saw that they had a purpose to ge forward, they called the whole house together, to give thanks to their King, for send- ing of them such profitable guests as these. Which done, they said unto Christiana, ' And shall we not show thee something, according as our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art on the way ?' So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, and showed them one of the ap- ples that Eve ate of, and that she also did give to her husband, and that for the eating of which, they were both turned out of Paradise ; and asked her, i What she thought that was ?'" Then Christiana said, ' It is food or poison, I know not which.* So they opened the mat- ter to her, and she held up her hands and wondered.* Th^n they had her to a place, and showed her Jacob's ladder. Now at that time there were some angels as- cending upon it. So Christiana looked, and looked to see the angels go up ; so did the rest of the company.f Then they were going Into another place, to r how them something else : but James said to his mother, ' Pray bid them stay a little longer, for this is a curious sight.* So they turned again, and stood feeding their eyes on this so pleasant a prospect. After this, they had them into a place, where there did hang up a golden anchor : so they bid Christiana take it down ; for, said they, you *Gen. hi. 1—6. Rom vii 21. + Gen. xxviii THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 239 shall have it with you for it is of absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of that within the veil, and stand stediast in case you should meet with turbulent weather: so they were glad thereof.* — Then they took them, and had them to the mount upon which Abraham our father had offered up Isaac his son, and showed them the altar, the wood, the fire, and the kniie ; for they remain to be seen to this very day. When they had seen it, they held up their hands, and blessed them- selves, and said, * Oh what a man for love to his master, and for denial to himself, was Abraham I' After they Had showed them all these things, Prudence took them into a dining-room, where stood a pair of excellent vir- ginals : so she played upon them, and turned what she had showed them into this excellent song, saying, 4 Eve's apple we have showed you ; Of that be you aware ; You have seen Jacob's ladder too, Upon which angels are : An anchor you received have ; But let not this suffice, Until with Abra'am you have gave Your best of sacrifice.' Now about this time one knocked at the door ; so the porter opened, and, behold, Mr. Great- heart was there ! But when he was come what joy was there ! For it came now fresh again into their minds, how but awhile ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man the gi- ant, and had delivered them from the lions. Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana and to Mer- cy, My Lord has sent each of you a bottle of wine, and also some parched corn, together with a couple of pom- egranates ; he also sent the boys some figs and raisins ; to refresh you in your way. Then they addressed themselves to their journey; and Prudence and Piety went along with them. When they came at the gate, Christiana asked the porter, if a- ny of late went by. He said No, only one, some time since, who also told me, that of late there had been a great robbery committed on the king's highway, you go : but, said he, the thieves are taken, and will shortly * Joel hi. 10. Heb. vi. 19. 240 the pilgrim's frogress. be tried for their lives. Then Christiana and Mercy were afraid ; but Matthew said, Mother, fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go with us, and to be our conductor. Then said Christiana to the porter, Sir, I am much obliged to you for all the kindnesses that you have showed to me since I came hither*; and also that you have been so loving and kind to my children ; I know not how to gratify your kindness : wherefore, pray as a token of my respects to you, accept of this small mite. — So she put a gold angel into his hand ; and he made her a low obeisance, and said, l Let thy garments be al- ways white, and let thy head want no ointment. Let Mercy live and not die, and let not her works be few.' And to the boys he said, ' Do you flee youthful lusts, ~nd follow after godliness with them that are grave and wise ; so shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, and obtain praise of all that are sober-minded.'-— So they thanked the porter, and departed. Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward un- til they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas ! 1 have forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her compan- ions ; I will go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetch- ed it. When she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way off on the right hand, a most curious melodious note with words much like these : Through all my life thy faver is So frankly show'd to me, That in thy house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be.' And listening still she thought she heard another an- swer it saying, * For why ? The Lord our God is good, His mercy is for ever sure : His truth at all times firmly stood, And shali i'rom age to age endure.* So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that made those curious notes. Tney are, said she, our country birds : they sing these note ? but seldom, except it be at the spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun shines THK PILGUIM'S PItOGRK 241 Warm, and then you may hear them all the day long. I often, said she, go to hear then. : we also oft-times keep them tame in our hou* e. They are very fine company for us when we are melancholy ; also they make the woods and groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in.* By this time Piety was come again ; so she said to Christiana, Look here, I have brought thee a scheme of all those things that thou hast seen at our house, upon which thou mayestlook when thou ftndest thyself for* gctful, and call those things again to remembrance, for thv edification and comforr. Now they began to go down the hill to the valley of Humiliation. It was a steep hill, and the way was slippe- ry ; but they were very careful ; so they got down pretty well. When they were down in the valley, Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where your husband met with the foul fiend Apollyon, and where they had the great fight that they had : I know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good courage; as long as you have here Mr. Great-heart to be your guide and conductor, we hope you will fare the better.— -So when these two had committed the pilgrims unto the conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went after. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not be so afraid of this valley, for here is nothing to hurt us, unless we procure it ourselves. It is true, Christian did meet here with Apollyon, with whom also he had a sore com- bat ; but that fray was the fruit of tl.ose slips that he got in his going down the hill : for they that get slips there, must look for combats here. And hence it is that this valley has got so hard a name. For the com- mon people, when they hear that some frightful thing has befallen such an one, in such a place, are of opinion that that place is haunted with some foul fiend, or evil spirit when alas ! it is for the fruit of their doing, that such things do befal them there. This valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place as any the crow flies over ; and I am persuaded) if we could bit upon it, we might find somewhere here* * Sol. Song ii. IX, 12. w 242 about something that might give us an account, why Christian was so hardly beset in this place. Then James said to his mother, ' Lo, yonder stands a pillar, and it looks as if something was written thereon ; let us go and see what it is.' • So they went, and found there written, ' Let Christian's slips, before he came hither, and the burden that he met with in this place, be a warning to those that come after.' ' Lo,' said their guide, ' did I not tell you that there was something hereabouts, that would give intimation of the reason ■why Christian was so hard beset in this place V Then, turning to Christiana, he said, No disparagement to Christian, more than to many others whose hap and lot it was. For it is easier going up than down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in this part of the world. But we will leave the good man, he is at rest, he also had a brave victory over his enemy : let Him grant that dwelleth above, that we fare no worse, when we come to be tried, than he ! But we will come again to this valley of Humiliation. —It is the best and most fruitful piece of ground in all these parts. It is a fat ground ; and as you see consist - eth much in meadows ; and if a man was to come here in the summer-time, as we do now, if he knew not any- thing before thereof, and if he also delighted himself in the sight of his eye, he might see that which would be delightful to him. Behold, how green this valley is ; also how beautiful with lilies.* I have also known ma- ny laboring men that have got good estates in this val- ley of Humiliation ; (for " God resisteth the proud, but giveth more grace to the humble;") for indeed it is a Tery fruitful soil, and doth bring; forth by handfuls. Some also have wished, that the next wav to their Fath- er's house were here, that they might be troubled no more with either hills or mountains to go over : but the way is the way, and there is an end. Now as they were going along, and talking, they es- pied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-favored countenance ; and as he sat by himself he sung. Hark, * Sol. Song ii. 1. James iv. 6. 1 Pet. v. 5, THE PILGRIM^ PROGRESS. 243 said Mr. Great-heart, to what the shepherd's boy saith : — so they hearkened, and he said, He tbat is down, needs fear no fall : He that is low, no pride : He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. I am content with what I have, Little be it or much : And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because thou savest such. Fulness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage : Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age.* Then said the guide, Do you hear {him? I will dare to say, this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of the herb called hearts-ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and velvet. But we will proceed on our discourse. In this valley our Lord formerly had his country Iiousc, he loved much to be here : he loved also to walk in these meadows, and he found the air was pleasant. Besides, here a man shall be free from the noise, and from the Imrryings of this life. : all states are full of noise and confusion, only the valley of Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not be let and hindered in his contemplation, as in other places he is apt to be. This is a valley that nobody walks in, but those that love a pilgrim's life. And though Christian had the hard hap to meet with Apoliy- on, and to enter with him a brisk encounter ; yet I must tell you, that in former limes men have met with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place found the words of life.f Did I say, Our Lord had here in former days his country house, and that he loved here to walk ? I will ?.dd, in this place, vnd to the people that live and trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faith- fully paid them at certain seasons for their maintenance by the way, and for their further encouragement to go on their pilgrimage. * Heb. xiii. v. f Hos. ii. 4. 5, -44 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great- heart ; ? Sir, I perceive that in this valley ray father and Apollyon had their battle ; but whereabout was the fight ? for I perceive this valley is large.' Gr.-h. Your father had the battle with Apollyon, at a place yonder before us, in a narrow passage just be- yond Forgetful Green. And indeed that plac« is the most dangerous place in all these parts : for if at any time pilgrims meet with any brunt, it is when they for- get what favors they have received, and how unworthy they are of them. This is the place also, where others have been hard put to it ; for I persuade myself that to this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monument to testify that such a battle there was fought. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this valley as I have been any where else in all our journey : the place, methinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be in such places where there is no rattling with coaches, nor rumbling with wheels : methinks, here one may, without much molestation, be thinking what he is, xshenee he came, what he has done, and to what the Ring has called him : here one may think, and break at heart, ami melt in one's spirit, until one's eyes become " as the fish-pools of Heshbon." They that go rightly through this u valley of Bacha, make it a well ; the rain," that God sends down from heaven upon them that are here, " also filleththe pools." This valley is that from whence also the King will give tot'iem their vineyards ;* and they that go through it shall sing as Christian did, for all he met with Apollyon. It is true, said their guide, I have gone through this valley many a time, and never was better than when here. I have also been a conductor to several pilgrims, and they have confessed the same. 4 ' To this man will I look*' (saith the King) " even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word." Now they were come to the place where the afore- mentioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, her children, and Mercy, this is the place : on this ground Christian stood, and up there came Apol ■ fol. Soa? ri ii. 4 Psal. lsj&ir. 5— 7. Hos 245 lyon against him : and, look, did not I tell you, here is some of your husband's blood upon these stones to this day : behoid, also, how here and there are yet to be seen upon the place some of the shivers of Apollyoifs bro- ken darts . see also, how they did beat the ground with their feet as they fought, to make good their places a- gai st each other ; how also, with their by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces ; verily Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as stout as Her-* cules could, had he been there, even he himself. When Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next val- ley, that is called the valley of the Shadow of Death, unto which we shall come anon. Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which is engraven this battle, and Christian's victory, to his fame throughout all ages. So because it stood just on the way side before them, they stepped to it, and read the writing, which word for word was this :— 1 Hard by here was a battle fought, Most strange, and yet most true Christian and Apollyon sought Each other to subdue. The man so bravely play'd the man, He made the fiend to fly ; Of which a monument I stand, The same to testify.' When they had passed by this place they came upon the borders of the Shadow of Death, and this valley was longer than the other j a place also more strongly haun- ted with evil things, as many are able to testify : but these women and children went the better through it, because they had day-light, and because Mr. Great-heart was their conductor. When they were entered upon this valley, they thought that they heard a groaning, as of dead men; a very great groaning. They thought also that they did hear words of lamentation, spoken as of some in ex- treme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the women also looked pale and wan ; but their guide bid them be of good comfort. So they went on a little further, and they thought that they felt the ground begin to shake under them? as W 2 246 the pilgrim's progress if some holloa place was there : they heard also a kiwi of hissing, as of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then said the boys, 4 Are we not yet at the end of this doleful place ?■' But the guide also bid them be of good courage, and look well to their feet, lest haply, said he, you be taken in some snare. Now James began to be sick, but I think the cause thereof was fear ; so his mother gave him some of that glass of spirits that she had given her at the Interpret- er's house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepared ; and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on, till they came to about the middle of the valley ; and then Christiana said, ' Methinks I see something yonder upon the road before us ; a thing of a shape such as I have not seer.' Then said Joseph, * Mother, what is it V * An ugly thing, child ; an ugly thing,' said she. i But, mother, what is it like,' said he. ' 'Tis like, I cannot tell what,' said she. ' And now it is but a little way off.' Then said she, ■ It is nigh.' 1 Well,' said Mr. Great-heart, * let them that are most afraid keep close to me.' So the fiend came on, and the conductor met it ; but when it was just come to him, it vanished to all their sights : then remembered they what had been said some time ago j " Resist the devil, and he will flee from you." They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but they had not gone far, before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she thought, something almost like a lion, and it came a great padding pace after ; and it had a hollow voice of roaring ; and at every roar that it gave, it made the valley echo, and all their hearts to acfce, save the heart of him that was their guide. So k came up ; and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the pil- grims all before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him battle. But when he saw that it was determined that resistance should be made, he also drew back and came no further.* Then they went on again and their conductor did go before them, till they came to a place where was cast up a pk the whole breadth of the way ; and, before they * 1 Pet. v. 8. * THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 247 could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and a darkness fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then said the pilgrims, Alas 1 now what shall we do ?' But their guide made answer, * Fear not, stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also.' So they staid there, because their path was marred. They then also thought they did hear more apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies ; the fire also, and smoke of the pit was much easier to be discerned. Then said Christiana to Mercy, Now I see what my poor husband went through; I have heard much of this place, but I never was here before now: Poor man! he went here, all alone, in the night ; he had night almost quite through the way : also these fiends were busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none can tell what the valley of the Shadow of Death should mean until they come in them- selves. " The heart knows its own hiKerness ; a stran- ger intermeddleth not with its joy.'* To be here is a fearful thing. Great-heart. This is like doing business in great wa- ters, or like going down into the deep : this is like be- ing in the heart of the sea, and like going down to the bottoms of the mountains : now it seems as if the ea» th with its bars were about us for ever. " But let them that walk in daTkness, and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their God." For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often through this valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am ; and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that lam not my own saviour : but I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Ceme, pray for light to him that can lighten our darkness, and can re- buke not only these, but all the satans in hell. So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and de- liverance ; for there was now no let in their way ; no not there, where but now, they were stopt with a pit. Yet they were not got through the valley ; so they went on still, and, behold, great stinks and loathsome smells, to the great annoyance of them. Then said Mercy to Christiana, there is not such pleasant bein^ here as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the hjuse whero we lay last. 248 O but (srid one of the boys) it is not so bad to go through here, as it is to abide here ahvay ; and for ought I know, one reason why we must go this way to the house prepared for us is, that our home might be made the sweeter to us. Well said Samuel, quoth the guide ; thou hast now spoke like a man. Why, if ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I dii in my life. Then said the guide, We shall be out by and by. So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the end of this valley as yet ? Then said the guide, Look to your feet, for we shall presently be among snares. So they looked to their feet and went on ; but they were troubled much with the snares. Now when they were come among the snares, they espied a man cast into the ditch on the left hand, with las flesh all rent and t^rn. r Shen said the guide, That is one Heed- less, that was going this way ; he has lain there a great while: There was one Takeheed with him when he was taken and slain ; but he escaped their hand. You can- not imagine how many are killed hereabouts, and yet men are so foolishly venturous, as to set out: lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a guide. Poor Chris- tian ! it was a wonder that he here escaped ; but he was beloved of his God : also he had a good heart of his own, or else he could never have done it. Now they drew towards the end of the way, and just there where Christian had seen the cave when he went by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This Maul did use to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry, and he called Great-heart by his name, and said unto him, How many times have you been forbidden to do these things ? Then said Mr. Great-heart, What things ? What things ! quoth the giant ; you know what things : but I will put an end to your trade. But, pray, said Mr. Great-heart, before we fall to it, let us understand wherefore we must fight. (Now the women and children stood trembling, and knew not what to do ) — Quoth the giant, You rob the country, and rob it with the worst of thieves. These are but generals, said Mr. Great-heart, come to partic- ulars, man. Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a the pilgrim's progress. 249 kidnapper, thcu gatherest up women and children, and earnest them into a strange country, to the weakening of my Master's kingdom. But now Great-heart repli- ed, I am a servant of the God of heaven ; my business is to persuade sinners to repentance : I am command- ed to do my endeavor to turn men, women, and chil- dren, from darkness to light, and from die power of Sa- tan to God; and if this be indeed the ground of thy quarrel lee us fall to it as soon as thou wilt. Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart went to meet him ; and as he went he drew his sword, but the giant had a club. So without more ado they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great- heart down upon one of his knees ; with that the women and children cried : so Mr. Great-heart recovering himself, laid about him in a full lusty manner, and gave the gi- ant a wound in his arm ; that he fought for the space of an hour, to that height of heat, that the breath came out of the giant's nostrils, as the heat doth out of a boil- ing cauldron. Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great- heart betook himself to prayer ; also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last. When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart, with a full blow, fetched the giant down to the ground : Nay, hold, let me recover, quoth he. So Mr. Great-heart let him fairly get up : so to it they went again, and the giant missed but a little of breaking Mr. Great-heart's skuli with his club. Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat of his spirit, and pierced him under the fifth rib; with that the giant began to faint, and could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smote the head of the giant from his should- ers. Then the women and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God for the deliveiance he had wrought. When this was done, they among themselves erected a pillar, and fastened the giant's head thereon, and wrote under it, in letters that passengers might read. 2b0 the pilgrim's progress. He that did wear this head, was one That pilgrims did misuse ; He stopp'd their way, he spared none, But did them all abuse ; Until that I Great-heart arose, The pilgrims' guide to be ! Until that I did him oppose, That was their stepped out after him, and said, ! Thou trembling one, what wantest thou V With that he fell to the ground. He that spake to him, wondered to see him so faint. He said to him, * Peace to thee ; up, for I have set o- pen the door to thee ; come in, for thou art blessed.' With that he got up, and went in trembling; and when that he was in, he was ashamed to show his face. Well after he had been entertained there awhile (as you know how the manner is) he was bid to go on his way, and also told the way he should take. So he went till he came to our house : but as he behaved himself at the gate so he did at my master the Interpreter's door. He lay thereabout in the cold a good while, before he would venture to call ; yet he would not go back : and the nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my master, to receive him, and grant him the comforts of the house, and also to allow him a stout and valiant conductor, because he was himself so chicken-hearted a man ; and yet, for all that, he was* afraid to call at the door. So he lav up and down thereabouts, till, poor man ! he was almost starved: yea, so great was his dejection, that, though he saw several others for knocking p;ot in, yet he was afraid to venture. At last, I think I looked out of the window, and, perceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I went out to him, and asked what he was ; but, poor man ! the water stood in his eyes : so I per- ceived what he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in the house, and wc showed the things to our Lord : THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 255 so he sent me out again to intreat him to come in ; but I dare say, 1 had hard work to do it. At last, he came in ; and, I will say that for my Lord, he carried it won- derfully loving to him. There were but a few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid upon his trench- er. Then he presented the note ; and my Lord looked thereon, and said his desire should be granted. So when he had been there a good while, he seemed to get some heart, and to be a little more comforted. For my master, you must know, is one of very tender bow- els, especially to them that are afraid : whei efore he carried it so towards him, as might tend most to his en- couragement. — Well, when he had a sight of the things of the place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfortable things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went befoie him : Out the man was of but few words, only he would sigh aloud. When we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, he said, that he doubted that that would be his -end also. Only he seemed glad when he saw the Cross and the sepulchre. There I confess he de- sired to stay a little to look, and he seemed for a while -after to be a little comforted. When we came at the hill Difficulty, he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions : for you must know, that his trouble was not about such things as these, his fear was about his acceptance at last. I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think, before he was willing : also when he was in, I brought him ac- quainted with the damsels that were of the place, but he was ashamed to make himself much for company : he desired much to be alone, yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it : he also loved mucrito see ancient things, and to be pon- dering them in his mind. He told me afterwards, that he loved to be in those two houses from which he came last, to wit, at the gate, and that of the Interpreter, but that he durst not be so bold as to ask. When he went also from the house Beautiful, down the hill, into the valley of Humiliation, he went down as well as ever I saw a man in my life ; for he cared not 256 how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that valley and him ; for I never saw him better in all his pilgri- mage, than he was in that valley. Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in that valley.* He would now be up every morning by break of day, tra- cing and walking to and fro in the valley. But when he was come to the entrance of the valley of the Shadow of Death, 1 thought I should have lost my man : not for that he had inclination to go back (that he always abhorred) but he was ready to die for fear. * Oh, the hobgoblins will have me, the hobgoblins will have me !' cried he ; and I could not beat him out on't, He made such a noise, and such an outcry here, that had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon us. But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as quiet when we went through it, as ever 1 knew it before or since. I suppose those here had now a special check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing Was passed over it. It w^uld be too tedious to tell you of all ; we will therefore only mention a passage or two more. When he was come to Vanity Fair, I thought he would have fought with all the men in the fair : I feared there we should both have been knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the enchanted ground, he also was very wakeful. But, when he was come at the river where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case : ' Now, now,' he said, * he should be drowned for ever, and so never see that face with com- fort, that he had come so many miles to behold.' And here also I took notice of what was very remarkable — the water of that river was lower at this time, than ever I saw it in all my life : so he went over at last, not much above wet-shod. When he was going up to the gate, Mr. Great- heart began to take his leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above ; so he said, 4 I shall, I shall :' then parted we asunder, and I saw him no more. * Lam- iii 27—2?. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 257 Hon. Then it seems, he was well at last ? Gr.-h. Yes, yes, I never had doubt about him ; he was a man of a choice spirit : only he was always kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome to him- self, and so very troublesome to others.* He was, above many, tender of sin ; he was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he would often deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend.f Hon. But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all his days so much in the dark. Gr.-h. There are two sorts of reasons for it : one is, The wise God will have it so ; some must pipe and some must weep i\ now Mr. Fearing was one that play- ed upon the bass. He and his feilows sound the sack- but, whose notes are more doleful than notes of other music are : though indeed, some say, the bass is the ground of music. And, for my part, I care not at all for that profession, that begins not in heaviness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches, is the bass, when he intends to put all in tune : God also plays upon this string first, when he sets the soul in tune for himself. Only there was the imperfection of Mr. Fearing, he could play upon no other music but this, till towards his latter end. [1 make bold to talk thus metaphorically, for the ripening of the wits of young readers ; and because, in the book of Revelations, the saved are compared to a company oT musicians, that play upon their trumpets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne.]? Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see by what relation you have given of him. Difficulties, li- ons, or Vanity FSr, he feared not at all : it was only sin, death and hell, that were to fcim a terror ; because he had some doubts about his interest in that Celestial country. Gr.-h. You say right ; those were the things that were his troubles ; and they, as you have well observed, a- rose from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not from weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a pil- grim's life. 1 dare believe that, as the proverb is, • He * Ps. Ixxxviii. -fRoraxiv.il. 1 Cor. viii.13, X Matt. xi. 16—18. $ Rev. viii. xiv. 2, £. X 2 2;8 could have bit a fire-brand, had it stood in his way :' but those things, with which he was oppressed, no man ev- er yet could shake off with ease. Then said Christiana, this relation of Mr. Fearing has done me good : I thought nobody had been like me : but I see there is some semblance betwixt this good man and I : only we differ in two things : his troubles were so great that they brake out ; but mine I kept "within. His also lay so hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for en- tertainment : but my troubles were always such, as mide me knock the louder. Mer. If I might also speak my mind, I must say, that something of him has also dwelt in me ; for I have ever been more afraid of the lake, and the loss of a place in paradise, than I have been at the loss of other things. O thought I, may I have the happiness to have a habit- ation there, it is enough, though 1 part with all the worid to win it. Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was far from having that within me that accompanies salvation ; but if it was so with such a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me \ No fears, no grace, said James. Though there is not always grace where there is the fear of hell ; yet to be sure, there is no grace where there is no fear of God. Gr.-h* Well said, James ; thou hast hit the mark : for the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom ; and, to be sure, they that want the beginning have neither mid- dle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him his fare- well. • Whilst, master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, who wast afraid -Of doing anything, while here, That would have thee betray'd : And didst thou fear the lake and pit ? Would others did so too : For, as for them that want thy wit, liej do themselves undo.' Now I saw that they all went on in their talk ; for, after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fear- b& Mr. Honest began to tell them of another, but hia THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 259 aame was Mr. Self-will. He pretended himself to be a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest ; but, I persuade myself, he never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the Way. Gr.-h. Had you ever any talk with bim about it ? Hon, Yes, more than once or twice : but he would always be like himself, Self-iviiicd. He neither cared for man, nor argument, nor example ; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do i and nothing else could he be got to do. Gr.-h. Pray what principles did he hold ? for I sup- pose you can tell. Hon. He held that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues of the pilgrims ; and that if he did both, he should be certainly saved. Gr.-h. How ! if he had said, it is possible for the best to be guilty of the vices, as well as partake of the virtues of pilgrims, he could not much have been blamed. For indeed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive. But this, I perceive, is not the thing : but, if I understand you right, your meaning is that he was of that opinion, that it was allowable so to be. Hon. Ay, ay, so I mean ; and so he believed and practised. Gr.-h. But what grounds had he for so saying ? Hon, Why, he said he had the scripture for his war- rant. Gr.-h. Pry'thee, Mr. Honest present us with a few particulars. Hon. So I will. He said, to have to do with other men's wives had been practised by David, Goers belo- ved, and therefore he could do it. He said, to have more women than one, was a thing that Solomon prac- tised ; and therefore he could do it. He said, that Sa- rah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did Rahab ; and therefore he could do it. He said, that the disciples went, at the bidding of their master, and took away the owner's ass ; and therefore he could do sg too. He said, that Jacob got the inheritance of his father in a way of guile and dissimulation 5 and there- tore he could do so too. k 2o0 j THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Gr.-h. High base, indeed ! and are you sure he was of this opinion ? Hon. I have heard him plead for it, Jjring scripture for it, bring arguments for it, &c. Gr.h. An opinion that is not fit to be with any al- lowance in the world ! Hon. You must understand me rightly ; he did not say that any man might do this ; but that those, that had the virtues of those that did such things, might also do the same. Gr.-h. But what mere false than such a conclusion ? for this is as much as to say* that, because good men heretofore sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allow- ance to do it of a piesumptuous mind : or if, because a child, by the blast of wind, or for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down, and defiled itself in mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. "\\ ho could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust ? But what is ■written must be true : " they stumble at the word, being disobedient ; whereunto also they were appointed."* His supposing that such may have the godly man's vir- tues, who addict themselves to his vices, is also a delu- sion as strong as the other. It is just as if the dog should say, ' I have, or may have the qualities of a child, because I lick up its stinking excrements.' " To cat up the sin of God's people,"f is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues. Nor can I believe, that one that is of this opinion, can at preserfc have faith or love in him. — But I know you have made strong objec- tions against him ; pr'ythee what can he say for him- self? Hon. Why, he says, to do this by way of opinion, seems to be abundantly more honest than to do it, and yet hold contrary to it in opinion. Gr.-h. A very wicked answer; for, though to let loose the bridle to lusts, while our opinions are against such things, is bad ; yet to sin, and plead a toleration so to do, is worse : the one stumbles beholders accident- ally, the other leads them into the snare. Hon. There are many of this man's mind, that have * Hos. iv. 3. t Pet. ii. 8. the pilgrim's progress. 261 not this man's mouth ; and that makes going on pilgri- mage of so little esteem as it is. Gr.h. You have said the- truth, and it is to be lamen- ted : but he that feareth the King of Paradise shall come out of them all. Chr. There are strange opinions in the world : I know one that said it was time enough to repent when he came to die. Gr.-h. Such are not over-wise : that man would have been loath, might he have had a week to run twenty miles for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last hour of that week. Hon. You say right j and yet the generality of them that count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. I am, as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many a day ; and I have taken notice of ma- ny things. I have seen some, that set out as if they would drive all the world afore them, who yet have, in a few days, died as they in the wilderness, and so never got sight of the promised land — I have seen some, that have prom- ised nothing, at first setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought could not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims- — I have seen some, who have run hastily forward, that again have, af- ter a little time, run as fast just back again. — I have seen some, who have spoken very well of a pilgrim's life at first, that after a while, have spoken as much a- gainst it. — I have heard some, when they first set out for Paradise, say positively, ' There is such a place ; who, when they had been almost there, have come back again, and said, < There is none.' — I have heard some vaunt what they would do, in case they should be op- posed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim's way, and all. Now as they were thus in their way, there came one running to meet them, and said, * Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love life, shift for yourselves, for the robbers are before yon.' Then said Mr. Great-heart, They be the three that set upon Little-faith heretofore. Well, said he, we are ready for them. So they went on their way. Now, they looked at every turning when they should have 262 met with the villains ; but, whether they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or whether they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims. Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, ' There is one a little before us, where a very honorable disciple, one Gaius, dwells.'* So they all concluded to turn in thither : and the rather, because the old gentleman gave him so good a report. — So when they came to the door, they went in, not knocking ; for folks use nr>t to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the house, and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there that night ? Gai. Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims. Then Avas Christiana, Mercy, and the boys, more glad, for that the inn-keep- er was a lover of pilgrims. So they called for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and her chil- dren, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart, and the old gentleman. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gaius, what hast thou for supper ? for those pilgrims have come far to- day, and are weary. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conveniently ge out to se» k food, but such as 1 have you shall be wel- come to, if that will content you. Gr.-h. We will be content with what thou hast in the -house ; forasmuch as I have proved thee, thou art ne- ver destitute of that which is convenient. Then he went down and sp.\ke to the cook, whose name was Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready sup- per for so many pilgrims. — This done, he comes up a- gain, saying, Come my good friends, you are welcome 10 me, and i am glad that I have a house to entertain you ; and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good discourse : so they all said, content. Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter is this young damsel ? Gr.-h. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a pilgrim in former times ; and these are his four chil- *Rora. xvi. 23. THE PROGRESS. 263 dren. The maid is one of her acquaintance ; one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps : yea, if they dd but see any place where the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it minister- eth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian's wife, and are these Christian's children ? I knew your husband's fa- ther, yea, and also his father's father. Many have been good of this stock ; their ancestors first dwelt at Anti- och.* Christian's progenitors (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed them- selves men of great virtue and courage, for the Lord of the pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband's relations, that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth, Stephen, that was one of the fii st of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones.f James, another of this generation, was slain with the ed£;e of the sword4 To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was one Ignatius, who was cast to the li- ons ; Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones ; and Polycarp, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun, for the wasps to eat ; and he whom they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea to be drowned. It would be utterly impossible to count up all that family, that have suffered injuries and death for the love of a pil- grim's life. Nor can I but be glad, to see that thy hus- band has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's name, and tread in their father's iteps, and come to their father's end. Gr.-Fi. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads : they seem to choose heartily their father's ways. Gai. That is what I said ; wherefore Christian's fa- mily is like still to spread abroad upon the face of the ground, and yet to be numerous upon the face of the earth: wherefore let Christiana look out some damsels * Acts zi. 26. f Acts vii. 59, 60. J Acts xii. 2, 264 for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c. that the name of their father and the house of his progeni- tors may never be forgotten in the world. Hon. It is pity his family should fall and be extinct. Gai. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may : but ) c: Christiana - take my advice, and that's the way to uphold it. And, Christiana, said this inn-keeper, I am glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. And may I advise, Take Mercy into a near- er relation to thee : if she will, let her be given to Mat- thew, thy eldest son : it is the way to preserve a pos- terity in the earth.— So this match was concluded, and in process of time they were married : but more of that hereafter. Gains also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away their reproach. For as death ai d the curse came into the world by a wom- an, so also did life and health : " God sent forth his Son made of a woman.*'* Yea, to show how much those that came after did abhor the act of the mother, this sex in the Old Testament coveted children, if hap- pily this or that woman mighc be the mother of the Sa- viour of the world. I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him, before ei- ther man orangel.f I read not, ever man did give un- to Christ so much as one groat : but the women follow- ed him, and ministered to him of their substance. It was a woman that washed his feet with tears, %id a woman that annointed his body to the burial. They -were women that wept, when he was going to the cross; and women that followed Mm from the cross, and that sat by his sepulchre when he was buried. They were women that were first with him at his resurrection morn ; and women that brought tidings first to his dis- ciples, that he was risen from the dead.J: Women therefore are highly favored, and show by these things that they are sharers with us in the grace of life. Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was af> * Gen. iii. Gal.iv. 4. f Luke, ii. t Luke 37—50. viii. 2, 3. xxiii 27. xxiv. 22, 23. John ii. 3. xi. 2. Matt, xxrii. 55, 56—61. the pilgrim's progress. 266 most ready : and sent one to lay the cloth, and the tren- chers, and to set the salt and bread in order. Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth and of this forerunner of the supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before. Gai. So let all ministering doctrines to thee, in this life beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper ot the great King in his kingdom ; for all preaching, books, and ordinances here, are but as the laying of the irenchms, and as setting of salt upon the board, when compared with the feast that our Lord willmake us when we come to his house. So supper came ; and first a heave- shoulder and a wave-breast were set on the table before them ; to show that tney must begin the meal with prayer and praise to God.* The heave-shoulder, David lifted his heart up to God with ; and with the wave-breast, where his heart lay, with that he used to lean upon his harp, when -he played. — These two dishes were very fresh and good, and they ail eat heartily thereof. The next they brought up was a bottle of wine, as red as blood. So Gains said to them, Drink freely, this is the true juice of the vine, that makes glad the heart of God and man. So they drank and were mer- ry.f — The next was a dish of milk well crumbled : but Gaius said, Let the boys have that, that they may ' grow thereby .'J. — Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said Gaius, Eat freely of this, for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your judg- ments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish when he was a child ; " Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know how to refuse the evil, and choose the good."§ — Then they brought up a dish of apples, and they were very good tasted fruit. Then said Mat- thew, ' May we eat apples, since ihey were such, by and with which the serpent beguiled our first mother?" Then said Gaius, * Apples were they with which we were beguil'd ; Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defil'd : * Lev. vii. 32—34. x. 14, 16. Psil. xxv. 1. Heb xiii. 15, fDeut.xxxii 14. Judg. i%, 13. John*?. 5. Jl Pet. ii 1,2. $ Isaiah, vii. 15. Y 266 THE TILGRIm's PROGRESS. Apples forbid, if eat* corrupt the blood ; To eat such, when commanded, does us good : Drink of his flagons, then, thou church his dove, And eat his apples, who are sick of love.' Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because, a> while since I was sick, with eating of fruit. Gai. Forbidden fruit will make you sick, but not what our Lord has tolerated, i While they were thus talking, they were presented with another dish, and it was a dish of nuts.* Then said some at the table, ' Nuts spoil tender teeth, espe- cially the teeth of the children.' Which, when Gaius heard, he said, * Hard tewts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters) Whose shells do keep the kernels from the eaters : Open then the shells, and you shall have the meat ; They here are brought for you to crack and eat.' /Then they were very merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking ot many things. Then said the old gentleman, My good landlord, while you are cracking your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle : 4 A man there was (though some did count him mad) The more he cast awa^ the more he had.' Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good Gaius would say ; so he sat still awhile, and then thus replied : * He who thus bestows his goods upon the poor, Shall have as much again, and ten times more.* Then said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did not think you could ' wfe found it out. Oh ! said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way a great while : nothing teaches like experience : I have learned of my Lord to be kind; and have found by ex- perience, that I have gained thereby. " There is that scattereth, yet increaseth ; and there is that withhol- deth more than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty:" " There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing ; there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great rich es."t * Sol. Song vi. 11. *Prov,xi.24. xiii. 7. 267 Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, and said, Mother, this is a very good man's house ; let us s'.ay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to' Mercy, before we go any further. The which Gains the host overhearing, said, with a very good will, my child. So they staid here more than a month ; and Mercy- was given to Matthew to wife. While they staid here, Mercy, ?.s her custom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon pilgrims. But to return again to our story. After supper, the lads desired a bed, for they were weary with travelling : then Gaius called, to show them their chamber ; but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. — So she had them to bed, and they slept well : but the rest sat up all night: for Gaius and they were such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part. Then after much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their jooraies, old Mr. Honest (He that put forth the riddle to Gaius) began to nod. Then said Great-heart, what Sir, you begin to be drowsy ! come, rub up, now here is a riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, let us hear it. • He that will kill, must first be overcome : Who live abroad would, first must die at home.' Ha! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one to expound, and harder to practice. But come, landlord, said he, I will, if you please, leave my part to you ; do you ex- pound it, and I will hear what you say. No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is expected should answer it. Then said the old gentleman, • He first by grace must conquer'd be, That sin would mortify : Who, that he lives, would convince me, Unto himself must die.' It is right, said Gaius ; good doctrine and experience teaches this. For, until grace displays itself, and over- comes the soul with glory, it is altogether without heart to oppose sin ; besides, if sin is Satan's cords, by which THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. the soul lies bound, how should it make resistance, be- fore it is loosed from that infirmity ?— Nor will any, that knows either reason or grace, believe that such a roan can be a living monument of grace, that is a slave to his own corruption. — And now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story worth the hearing. — There were two men that went on pilgrimage, the one began when he was young, the ether when he was old; the young man had strong cciruptions to grapple with, the old man's were weak with the decays of nature : the young man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as light as he : who new, ov which of them, hpd their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike ? Hon. The young man's doubtless. For that which heads it against the greatest opposition gives best de- monstration that it is strongest ;' especially when it also hoideth pace with that that meets not with half so much ; as to be sure old age dots not. — Besides, I have obser- ved, that old men have blessed themselves with this mistake ; namely, taking the decays of nature for a gra- cious conquest over corruptions, and so have been apt to beguile themselves. Indeed, old men that are gra- cious, are best able to give advice to them that are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness of tbings : but yet, for an old and a young man to set cut :i together, the young one has the advantage of the . est discovery of a work ot grace within him, though aid man's corruptions are naturally the weakest. Thus they sa't talking till break of d^y. Now ' y was up, Christiana bid her son James that he should read a chapter ; so he read the fifty-third oflsai- ah- When he had done, Mr. Honest asked why it v. \& said, that the Saviour was said to come " out of a dry ground ;" and also that he had u no form or comeliness in him ?" Then said Mr. Great'-heart, To the first, I answer, because the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then, lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. To the second, I say, the words are spoken in the p ofthe unbeliever, who, because they want the eye .hat can see into cur Prince's heart, therefore tl •udge of him by the meanness of Ms out-side— T v rHE pilgrim's padffREss. 269 like those that know not precious stones are covered over with a homely crust ; who, when they have found one, because they know not what they have found, cast it again away, as men do a common stone. Well, said Gaius, now you are here, and since, I: know Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves, we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence, there is one Slay-good, a giant, that does much annoy ..the king's highway in these parts : and I know where-about his haunt is : he is master of a number of thieves : it would be well if we could clear these parts of him. So they consented, and went, Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves. When they earne to the place where he was, they found him with one Feeble-mind in his hand, whom his servants had brought unto him, having taken him in the way : now the giant was rifling him, with a purpose af- ter that, to pick his bones ; for he was of the nature of flesh-eaters. Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his frienus at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted. Gr.-h. We want thee, for we are come to revenge the quarrels of the many that thou hast slain of the pil- grims, when thou hast dragged them out of the king's highway ; wherefore come out of thy cave. — So he ar- med himself and came out ; and to the battle they went, and fought above an hour, and then stood still to take wind. Then said the giant, Why are you here on my ground ? Gi\-h. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, as I also told thee before. — So they went to it again, and the gi- ant made Mr. Great heart give back ; but he came up again, and in the greatness of mind he let fly with such stoutness at the giant's head and sides, that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand ; so he smote and slew him, and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. He also took Feeble-mind the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his lodgings. When they Y 2 270 THE PILGRIM'S rROOHESS. were come home, they showed his head to the family*, and set it up, as they had done others before, for a ter- ror to those that shall attempt to do as he, hereafter. Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind, how he fell into his hands ? Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see, and because death did usually once a day knock at my door, 1 thought I should never be well at home : so I betook myself to a pilgrim's life ; and have travelled hither from the town of Uncertain, where 1 and my fa- ther were born. I arn a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind ; but would, if 1 could, though 1 can but crawl, spend my time in a pilgrim's way.-— When I came at the gate that is at the head of the way, the lord of that place did entertain me freely ; neither objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my feeble mind : but gave me such things that were ne- cessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. — When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I receiv- ed much kindness there ; and because the hill of Diffi- culty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. — Indeed I have found much re- lief from pilgrims, though none was willing to go softly as I am forced to do : yet still as they came on, they bid me be of good cheer, and said, that it was the will of their Lord, that " comfort 5 * should be given to " the feeble-minded ;"* and so went on their own pace.— When I was come to Assault-lane, then this giant met ■with me, and bid me prepare for an encounter ; but, a- las ! feeble one that I was ! I had more need of a cor- dial : so he came up and took me. I conceived he should not kill me : also when he had got me into his den, since I went not with him willingly, I believed I should come out alive again ; for I have heard, that not any pilgrim, that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his master, is, by the laws of providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Robbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am ; but 1 am, as you see, escaped with life, for the which I thank my King as author, and you as the means. Other brunts 1 also look for, but this I have resolved on, to wit, to run * 1 Tbes. v. 14. 271 when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I hank him that loved me, I am fixed ; Diy way is betore me, my mind is be- yond the river that has no bridge ; though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind. Hon. Then said old Mr. Honest, have not you some time ago been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pil- grim? Feeble. Acquainted with him ! yes : he came from the town of Stupidity, which lies four degrees r.orth- ward of the city of Destruction, and a3 many off of where I was born : yet we were well acquainted, for in- deed he was my uncle, ray father's brother ; he and I have been much of a temper : he was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complexion. Hon. I perceive you know him : and I am apt to be- lieve also, that you were related one to another, for you have his whitely look, a cast like his with your eye, and your speech is much alike. Feeble. Most have said so, that have known us both ; and, besides, what 1 have read in him, I have for the most part found in myself. Come, Sir, said good Gaius, be or good cheer ; you are welcome to me, and to my house ; and what thou hast a mind to, call for freely ; and what thou wouldst have my servants do lor thee, they will do with a ready mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is an unexpected favor, and as the sun-shining out of a very dark cloud. Did giant Slay-good intend me this favor when he stopt me, and resolved to let me go no further ? Did he in- tend, that after he had rifled my pockets, I should go to " Gaius mine host V* Yet so it is. Now just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, there comes one running, and called at the door, and told that aboui a mile and a half off there was one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where he was, with a thunderbolt. Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He over- took me some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my company-keeper : he also was with me when Slay-gopd the giant took me, but he was nimble of his heels, and escaped : but, it seems, he escaped to die, and I was took to live. 4 What one would think, doth seek to slay outright, Oft-times delivers from the saddest plight. That very providence, whose face is death, Doth oft-times to the lo.vly, life bequeath. I tai was, he did escape and flee : Hands cross'd, giv« death to him, and life to me.* Now about this time Matthew and Mercy were mar- ried : also Gaius gave his daughter Phebe to James. Matthew's brother, to wife. After which time they staid about ten days at Gaius's house ; spending their time, and the seasons, like as pilgrim's used to do. When they were to depart, Gaius made to them a feast, and they did eat and drink, and were merry. Now the bour was come Wuat they must be gone ; where- fore Mr. Great-heart called for a reckoning. But Gai- us told him, that at his house it was not the custom of pilgrims to pay for their entertainment. He boarded them by the year, but looked for his pay from the Good Samaritan, who had promised him at his return, what- soever charge he was with them, faithfully to repay him.* Then said Mr. Great-heart to him, — Beloved, thou doest faithfully, whatsoever thou doest to the breth- ren and to strangers, which have borne witness of thy charity before the church, whom if thou yet bring for- ward on their journey, after a godly sort, thou shalt do wchY't Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and his chil- dren and particularly Mr. Feeble-mind ; he also gave him something to dnok by the way. Now Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out at the door, made as if he intended to linger. The which when Mr. Great-heart , espied, he said, ' Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us, I will be your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest.' Feeble. Alas ! I want a suitable companion ; you are all lusty and strong ; but I, as you see, am weak ; I choose therefore rather to come behind, lest by reason of my many infirmities, I should be both a burden to my- self and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and * Luke x. 34, 35. t 3 John 5, 6. feeble mind, and shall be offended and .made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like no la<. I shall like no gay attire : I shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay, I am so weak a man, as to be offend- ed at that which Others have a liberty to do. I do i know all the truth : lama very ignorant Christian man : sometimes, if 1 hear some rejoice in t% Lord, it trou- bles me, because I cannot do so too. It is with me, as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as a lamp despised. " He that is ready to slip with bis feet, fa as a lamp, despised in the thought of him that is at so that I know not what to do. But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have it in corn- « mission to " comfort the feeble-mine port the weak. You must needs go a we will wait for you, we will lend you our help ; we deny ourselves of some things, both ophiionative practical, for your sake ; we will not enter into *' do* ful disputations" before you ; we v ade all this to you, rather than you shall be left Now all this while they were at G&ius-s door ; ?.nd, behold, as they were thus in the h iiscourse, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by with his crutches in his hand, and he also was going on ;; Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him. how earnest thou hither ? I was but now complaining that I had not a suitable companion; but thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr, Ready-to-halt, I he i thou and I may be some help. Rcady-to-halt. I sh"!l he glad of thy coropam the other; and good Mr. Feeble-mind will part, since we are thus happily -im one of my crutches. Feeble. Nay, said he, though I thank th.ee. for I good-will, 1 am not inclined to halt before Howbeit, I think when occasion is, it may help gainst a dog. Ready-t'i-halt. If either myself or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy command good Mr Feeble-mind. *Job xii. 5. jRcm. iiv. 1 Cor. viii. 9, 13. ix - | fs. XJUJYiii. 17. *v THE PILGRiai'-S TtOCRESS. Thus therefore they went on. Mr. Great-heart and Mr. lloncsi went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble mind and Mr. Ready-to- nalt, came behind with his crutches. Then said Mr. lionest, pray, Sir, now wc are on the road, tell us of some profitablewthings of some that have gone on pil- grimage before us. Gr.-h. With a good will. I suppose you have heard how Christian of old did meet with Apollyon in the val- ley of Humiliation, ami also that hard work he had to go through the valley of the Shadow of Death. Also 1 think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it by Madam Wanton, with Adam the First, with one Discontent, and Shame : four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road. Hon. Yes, I believe 1 heard all this : but indeed good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame ; he was an unwearied one. Gr.-h. Ay : for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrong name. Hon. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian and Faithful met Talkative ? that same was a notable one. Gr.-h. Ke was a confident fool ; yet many follow his ways. Hon. He had like to have beguiled Faithful. Gr.-h. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly to find him cut. Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and proph- esied to them what they should meet with at Vanity- fair. Then said their guide. Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful meet with Evangelist, who propne^ied to them of what troubles they should meet with at Vanity-fair. Hon. Say you so? I dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did read unto them. Gr.-h. It was so, but then he gave them encourage- ment withal. liut what dc weYalk of them ? they were h couple of lion like men : they had set their faces lil flints. Do not you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge ? Hon. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. Gr.~h. So he did, and as brave things came ot't : for THE PILORIm'3 PROGRESS. 27 u Hopeful and some others, as the story relates, were converted hy his death. Hon. Well, pray go on ; for you are well acquainted with things. Gfr.-A. Above all that Christian met with after he had passed through Vanity-lair, one By-ends was the arch one. Hon. By-ends T What was he ? Gr -h. A very arch fellow, a downright hypocrite ; one that would be religious, which way ever the world went : but so cunning', that he would be sure never to lose or suffer for it. lie had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn and change from opinion to opin- ion ; yea, and plead for so doing too. But as far as I could learn, he came to an ill-end with his by-ends ; nor did I ever hear, that any of his children were ever of a- ny esteem with any that truly fear God. Now by this time they were come within sight ofthe town of Vanity, where Vanity-fair is kept. So when they saw that they were so near the town, they consul- ted with one ano* her how they should pass thro.ugh the town : and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have as you may under- stand, often been a conductor of piigrims through, this town; now I am acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Gyprusian by nation, and an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good, said he, we will turn m there* Content, said old Honest ; Content, said Christiana ; Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now you must think it was even-tide by that they got to the outside of the town ; but Mr Great-heart knew the way to the old man's house. So thither they came ; and he called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue so soon as ever he heard it ; so he opened, and they all came in- Then said Mnason, their host, 4 How far have ye come to-day V So they said, ' From the house of Gaius our friend.' ' I promise you,' said he, you have gone a good stitch ; you may well be wea- ry ; sit down/ So they sat down. Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, good Sirs ? I dare say you are welcome to my friend, 2?6 TtilZ TILGRIM's FHOGRESS. I also, said Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome ; and whatever you want, do but say, and we will do what we can to get it tor you. Hon. Our great want, a while since, was harbor and good company : and now I hope we have both ? Mnaq. For harbor you see what it is ; but for good company that will appear in the trial. Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the pil- grims into their lodging ? I will, said Mr. Mnason. So he had them to their respective places : and also showed them a very fair dining room, where, they might be, and sup togetner, until time was come to go to rest. Now when they were set in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord, if there were any store of good people in the town r Mnas. We Jiave a few ; for indeed they are but a few, when compaied with them on the othei siue. Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them ? for the sight of good men, to them that are going on pil- grimage, is like to the appearing of the moon and stars to them that are going a journey. Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace came up : so he said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends. Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holyman, Mr. Love-saints, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, that I have a friend or two at my house, that have a mind this evening to see them. So Grace went to call them, and they came ; and, after salutation made, they sat down together at the table. Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neigh- bours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house : they are pilgrims : they come from afar, and are going to Mount Sion. But who, quoth he, do you think this is ? (pointing his fingers at Christiana.) It is Christiana, the wife of Christian, the famous pil- grim, who with Faithful his brother, were so shame- fully handled in our town. At that they stood amazed, saying, we little thought to see Christiana, when Grace came to call us : wherefore this is a very comfortabl surprise. Then they asked her about her welfare, ane k i77 if these young men were her husband's sons — And when she had told them they were, they said, ' The King, whom you love an i serve, make you as your father, and bring you where he is in peace !' Then Mr. Honest, when they were all sat down, ask- ed Mr. Contrite, and the rest, in what posture their town was at present. Contr. You may be sure we arc lull of hurry in fair time. It is hard keeping our hearts and spirits, in good order when we are in a cumbered condition. He that lives in such a place as this, and that has to do with such as we have, has need of an item, to caution him to take heed every moment of the day. Hon. But how are your neighbors now for quiet* ness ? Contr. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how Christian and Faithful were used in our town : but of late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with load upon them till now ; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any more ; in those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious ; now, especially in some parts of our town (for you know our town is large) religion is couated honorable. Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth it with you in your pilgrimage ? How stands the country affected towards you ? Hon. It happens to us, as it happeneth to wayfaring men : sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, sometimes up hill, seme'imes down hill : we are seldom at a certainty : the wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already : and what are yet behind wc know not ; but, for the most part, we find it is true that has been talked of old, — * A good man must suffer trouble.' Contr. You talk of rubs : — what rubs have you met withal ? Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, eur guide \ for he can give the best account of that. Z -78 the pilgrim's progress. Gr.-h. We have been beset three or four times al- ready. First, Christiana and her children were beset with two ruffians, that they feared would take away their lives. We were beset with giant ploody-man, gi- ant Maul, and giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last, than were beSet of him. And thus it was : after we had been some tii$e at the house of Gaius, " mine host, and of the whote church," we were min- ded upon a time to take our^eapons with us, and so go see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies to pilgrims ; for we heard that there was a no- table one thereabouts. Now Gaius knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt thereabout ; so we loo- ked and looked, till at last we discerned the mouth of his cave j then we were glad, and plucked up our spir- its. So we approached up to his den ; and, lo, when we came there, he had dragged^ by mere force into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and. was about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, supposing, as we thought, he had another prey ; he left the poor roan in his house, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and his head cut off, and set up by the way side, for a terror to such as should after practice such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true to my cost and comfort ; to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment : and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends, with their weapons, approach so near for my deliverance. Then said Mr. Koly-man, There are two things that they hare need to be possessed of, that goon pilgrim- age ; courage y and an unsfiotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way ; and, if their lives be loose, they will make the name of a pilgrim stink. Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this caution is not needful among you : but truly there are many that go upon the road, that rather declare themselves strang- ers to pilgrimage, than strangers and pilgrims in the earth. THE PILGRIM'S PR0GRE3S. 279 Then said Mr. Dare-not-lic, It is true, they neither have the pilgrim's weed, nor the pilgrim's courage : they go not uprightly, but all awry with their teet : one shoe goeth inward, another outward, and their ho- sen out behind ; here a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of their Lord. These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled for j nor are the pilgrims like to have that grace upon them, and their pilgrim's progress as they desire, until the way Is cleared of such spots and blem- ishes. Thus they sat talking and spending the time until supper was set upon the table. Upon which they went, and refreshed their weary bodies ; so they went to rest Now they stayed in the fair a great while at the house of Mr. Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter Grace Unto Samuel, Christiana's son, and his daughter Martha to Joseph. The time, as I said, that they lay here was long : for it was not now as in former times. Wherefore the pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the good peo- ple of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, labored much for the poor ; wherefore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession. And, to say the tr'ith for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their pla- ces. They were also all of them very fruitful ; so that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to live in the world. While they lay here, there came a monster out of the woods, and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach them to suck its whelps. Now no man in the town durst so much as face this monster ; but all men fled when they heard of the noise of his coming. The monster was like unto no one beast upon the earth : its body was M like a dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns."* It made great havock of children, and yet it was governed by a woman. This monster propound- *Rev. xii. 3. 230 ed conditions to men ; and such men as loved their lives more than their souls accepted of those conditions. Now Mr. Great-heart, together with these, who came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws, and mouth of this so devouring a serpent. Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, with their weapons, go forth to meet him. Now the monster, at first, was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain ; but they so belaboured him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a re- treat so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house a- gain. The monster, you must know, had his certain sea- sons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town : also these seasons did these valliant worthies watch him in, and did con- tinually assault him ; insomuch, that in process of time lie became not only wounded, but lame ; also he had rot made the havock of the townsmen's children, as formerly he had done. And it is verily believed by some, that this beast will certainly die of his wounds. This therefore made Mr. Great-heart and his fellows of great fame in this town ; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had a reverent es- teem and respect for them. Upon this account there- iore it was, that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand no more than a beast ; these had no reverence for these men, nor took they notice of their value and adventures. Well, the time drew on that the pilgrims must go on their way ; therefore they prepared for their jour- ney. They sent for their friends ; they conferred with them ; they had some time set apart therein, to commit each other to the protection of their Prince. They were again that brought them of such things as they had, that were fit for the weak, and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such thii THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 281 as were necessary.'* Then they set forward on their way ; and their friends accompanying them so far as wus convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and departed. They, therefore, that were of the pilgrims' company, went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them ; now the women and children being weakly, they were for- ced to go as they could bear ; by this means Mr. Rea- dy-to-halt and Mr. Feeble- mind had more to sympathize with their condition. When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death : therefore they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well ; and the rather, because they now found that they had a benefit by such a man's sufferings as he was. They went on, therefore, after this a good way further, talking of Christian and Faith- ful ; and how Hopeful joined himself to Christian, after that Faithful was dead. Now they were come up with the hill Lucre, where the silver mine was, which took Demas off from his pilgrimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell and perished : wherefore they considered that. But when they were come to the old monument that stood over against the hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of salt, that stood also within view of Sodom and its stindng lake, they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, should be so blind as to turn aside here. Only they con- sidered again, that nature is not affected with the harms that others have met with, especially if that thing, upon which they look, has an attracting virtue upon the foo- lish eye. I saw now that they went till they came to the river that was on this side of the Delectable mountains to the river where the fine trees grow on both sides ; and whose leaves, if taken inwardly are good against sur- feits,! where the meadows are green all the year jonp-, and where they might lie down safely. By this river side, in the meadows, there were cotes * Acts xxviii. 10. f p s . xziit. Z 2 282 THE PILGRIM'S PKOOREd?. and folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and brin-mg up of those iambs, the babes of those women that go on pilgrimage. Also there was here one that was entrusted with them, who could have compassion, and that could gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with young.* Now to the care of this man Christiana admonished her four daughters to commit their little ones, that by these waters they mi^ht be housed, harbored, succoured, and nourished, and that none of them might be lacking in time ».o come. This man, if any of them go astray, or be lost, he will bring them again ; he will ateo bind up that which was brok- en, and will strengthen them that are skk.f Here they will never want meat, drink, and clothing ; here they will be kept from thieves and robbers ; foi this man will die before one of those committed to his trust shall be lost. Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and.admonition ; and shall be taught to walk in right paths ; and that, you know, is a favor of no small account. Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of trees, and such as fcear wholesome fruit : fruit not like that which Mat- thew eat o£ that fell over the wall, out of Beelzebub's garden ; but fruit that procureth health where there is none, and that continueth and encreaseth where it is. So they were content to commit their little ones to Jnm ; and that which was also an encouragement to them so to do, was, for that all this was to be at the charge of the King ; and so was an hospital to young children and orphans. Now they went on ; and when they were come to By-path meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with his fellow Hopeful, when they were taken by giant Pespair, and put into Doubting Castle ; they sat down, and consulted what was best to be done ; to wit, now they were so strong, and had got such a man as Mr. Great-heart for their conductor, whether they had not best to make an attempt upon the giant, demolish his castle, and if there were any pilgrims in it, to set them ♦Heb, ▼, 2. Isa.lxhi, f Jer.xxiH, i< Ezek, xsxiv. 11— 16. 283 at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said to the contrary. One ques- tioned if it was lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground ; another said they might, provided their evd was good. But Mi. Great-heart said, Though that assertion otter- ed last cannot be universally true, yet I have a com- mandment to resist sin, to overcome evil, to fight the good fight of faith ; and, 1 pray, with whom should I fight this good fight, if not with giant Despair ? I will therefore attempt the taking away his life, and the de- molishing of Doubting Castle. Then said he, i Who will go with me ?' Then said old Honest, " / will" 4 And so rje will too,' said Christiana's four sons, Mat- thew, Samuel, James, and Joseph : for they were young men and strong.* So they left the women on the road, and with them Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt, with his crutch- es, to be -their guard, until they came back , for in that place, though giant Despair dwelt so near, they keep- ing in the road, " a little child might lead them."t So Mr. Great-heart, old Honest, and the four ycung men, went to go up to Doubting Castle to look for gi- ant Despair. When they came at the Castle gate, they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise. With that the old Giant comes to the gate, and Diffidence his wife, follows. Then said he, * Who and what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the giant Despair V Mr. Great-heart replied, 'It is I, Great- heart, one of the King of the celestial country's conduc- tors of pilgrims to their place : and I demand of thee, that thou open thy gates for my entrance ; prepare thy- self also to fight, for I am come to take away thy head, and to demolish Doubting Castle/ Now giant Despair, because ho was a giant, thought no man could overcome him ; and again, thought he, Since heretofore I have made a conquest of angels r shall Great- heart make me afraid V So he harnessed himself, and went out : he had a cap of steel upon his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to him, and he came out in iron shoes, with a great club in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and be- * 1 John ii, 13, 14. i Isaiah xi. 6. £34 fore ; also when Diffidence, the giantess, came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, and giant Despair was brought down to the ground, but was very loth to die : he struggled hard, and had, as they say, as many lives as a cat ; but Great-heart was his death : for he left him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders. Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle ; and that, you know, might with ease be done, since giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in destroy- ing of that : and in it, ol pilgrims, they found one Mr. Despondency, almost starved to death, and one Much- afraid, his daughter; these two they saved alive. But it would have made you wonder, to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how fall of dead men's bones the dungeon was. When Mr. Great-heart and his companions had per- formed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection ; for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting Castle, to the giant Despair. They therefore, I say, took with them the head of the giant (for his body they had buried under a heap of stones) ; and down to the road and to their companions they came, and showed them what they had. done. — Now when Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it was the head of giant Despair indeed, they were very jocund and merry. Now Christiana, if need was, could play upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy upon the lute : so since they were merry disposed, she played them a les- son, and Ready-to- halt would dance. So he took Des- pondency^ daughter, named Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went, in the road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand ; but I prom- ise you, he footed it well : also the girl was to be com- mended, for she answered the music handsomely. As for Mr. Desj>ondency, the music was not much to him : he was for feeding, rather than dancing, for that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him some of her bottle of spirits, for present relief, and then pre- pared him something to eat ; and in a little time the old gentleman came to himself, and began to be finely re» vived. the pilgrim's PROGRESS. 28j Now I saw in my dream, when all these things were finished, Mr. Great-heart took the head of giant Des- pair, and set it upon a pole by the high-way-side, right over against a pillar that Christian had erected for a caution to pilgrims that came after, to take heed of en- tering into his grounds. Th^n he writ under it, upon a marble stone, these verses following : * This is the head of him, whose name only, In former time, did pilgrims terrify. Jlis castle's down, and Diffidence his wife, Brave master Great-heart has bereft of life. Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, GrcLit-heart for them also the man has play'd. Who hereof doubts, if he'll but cast his eye Up hither, may his scruples satisfy. This head also, when doubting cripples dance, Doth show from fears they have deliverance. When those men had thus bravely showed them- selves against Doubting Castle, and had siain giant Despair, they went forward, and went on till they came to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hope- ful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. Now the shepherds seeing so great a train follow Mr. Great-heart (for with him they were well acquain- ted) they said unto him, * Good sir, you have got a goodly company here ; pray where did you find all these ? Gr.-h. * First, here is Christiana and her train, Her sons, and her sons' wives, who, like the wain, Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer From sin to grace, else they had not been here. Next, here's old Honest come on pilgrimage ; Ileady-to -halt too, who, I dare engage. True hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, Who willing was not to be left behind. Despondency, good man, is coming after, And so also is Much-afraid his daughter, May we have entertainment here, Gr must We further go? let's know whereon to trust.* 286 THE PILGRIM^ PROfigBi.fi, Then said the shepherds, This is a comfortable com- pany ; you are welcome to us, for we have for the fee- ble, as for the strong : our Prince has an eye to what is done to the least of these :* therefore infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment. So they had them to the palace doors, and then said unto them, * Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind ; come in, Mr. Ready-to-halt ; come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much-afraid his daugh- ter.' * These, Mr. Great-heart,' said the shepherds to the guide, * we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back ; but as for you, and the rest that are strong, wc leave you to your wonted liberty.' Then said Mr. Great-heart, ' This day I see, that grace doth shine in your faces, and that you are my Lord's shep- herds indeed ; for that you have pushed these diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace, with flowers as you should. 'f So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the shepherds said to those of the weaker sort, What is that you would have ? For, said they, all things must be managed here to the supporting of the weak, as well as the warning of the unruly. So they made them a feast of things easy of diges- tion, and that were pleasant to the palate and nourish- ing : the which when they had received, they went to their rest, each one respectively unto his proper place. When morning was come, because the mountains were high, and the day clear ; and because it was the custom of the shepherds to show the pilgrims, before their de- parture, some rarities ; therefore, after they were rea- dy, and had refreshed themselves, the shepherds took them out into the fields, and showed them first what they had showed to Christian before. Then they had them to some new places. The first was mount Marvel, where they looked, and beheld a man at a distance, that tumbled the hills about with words. Then they asked the shepherds, what that should mean ? So they told him, that that man was the son of one Mr. Great-grace [of whom you read in the first part of the records of the Pilgrim's Progress :]anc] * Matt, xjv. 40. f Ezek. xxxiv. 21. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 287 he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble out of their ways, what difficulties they should meet with, by faith * Then said Mr. Great- heart, ' I know him ; he is a man above many.' Then they had them to another place, called mount Innocence : and there they saw a man clothed all in white; and two men, Prejudice and Ill-will, continual- ly casting dirt upon him. Now, behold, the dirt, what- soever they cast at him, would in a little time fall off a« gain, and his garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat. — Then said the pilgrims, What means this ? The.shepherds answered, This man is na- med Godly -man, and the garment is to shew the inno- cency of his life. Now those that throw dirt at him, are such as hate his well-doing ; but as you see the dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that lives truly innocently in the world. Whoever they be that would make such men dirty, they labour all in vain ; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the noon-day. Then they took them, and had them to mount Chari- ty, where they showed them a man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. Then said they, What should this be ? This is, said the shepherds, to show you, that he that has a heart to give of his la- bor to the poor, shall never want wherewithal. " He that watereth, shall be watered himself." And the cake, that the widow gave to the prophet, did not cause that she had ever the less in her barrei. They had them also to the place, where they saw one Fool, and one Want-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, with an intention to make him white ; but the more they washed him, the blacker he was. Then they as- ked the shepherds, what that should mean ? So they told them* saying, Thus shall it be with the vile per- son ; all means used to get such a one a good name, shall in conclusion tend but to make him more abomin- ♦Markxi. 23, 24,. -83 the pilgrim's progress. able. Thus it was with the Pharisees, and so it shall be with all hypocrites. Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christia- na her mother, I would, if it might be, see the hole in the hill, or that commonly called the By-way to hell. So her mother brake her mind to the shepherds. Then they went to the door (it was on the side of an hill ;) and they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken awhile. So she hearkened, and heard one saying, 4 C ursed be my father, for holding of my feet back from the way of peace and life :' And another said, O that I had been torn in pieces, jefore I had, to save my life, lost my soul : And another said, * If I were to live again, how would I deny myself, rather than come to this place I' Then there was as if the very earth groaned and quaked under the feet of this young woman for fear ; so she looked white and came trembling away, saying, * Bless- ed be he and she that is delivered from this place/ New when the shepherds had shown them all these things, then they had them back to the palace, and en- tertained them with what the house would afford : but Mercy being a young and breeding woman, longed for something that she saw there but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked her, what she ailed, for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind ; if therefore I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I shall mention thy wants to the shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame, but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy said, ^T hen, mother, if you please, ask the shepherds if they are willing to sell it. Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would present a man, one way, with his own features exact- ly ; and turn it but another way, and it would show cue the very face and similitude of the Prince of pil- grims himself. Yes, I have talked with them that can tell, and they have said, that they have seen the very crown of thorns upon his head, by looking in that gless ; they have therein also seen the holes in his hands, in his feet, and in his side. Yet ? such an excel- I he pilgrim's progress. 28S> iency is there in that glass, that it will show him to one where they have a mind to see him ; whether living- or dead, whether in earth, or in heaven ; whether in a state of humiliation, or in his exultation ; whether coming to suffer, or coming to reign.* Christiana therefore went' to the shepherds apart (now the names of the shepherds were Knowledge, Ex- perience, Watchful, and Sincere), and said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding woman, that, I think, doth long for something that she hath seen in this house, and she thinks she shall miscarry, if she should by you be denied. Exfier. Call her, call her : she shall assuredly have what we can help her to. So they called her, and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing that thou wouldest have ? Then she blushed, and said, The great glass that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran and fetched it, and with a joyful consent it was given her. Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said, By this I know that I have obtained favor in your eyes. They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to their husbands great commen- dations, for that they had joined, with Mr. Great- heart, in the slaying of giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting Castle. About Christiana's neck the shep- herds put a bracelet, and so they did about the necks of her four daughters ; also they put ear-rings in their ears, and jewels on their foreheads. When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in peace, but gave not. to them those certain cautions which before were given to Christian and his compan- ions. The reason was, for that these had Great-heart to be their guide, who was one that was well acquain- ted with things, and so could give them their cautions more seasonable ; to wit, even then when the danger was nigh the approaching. What cautions Christian and his companion had received of the shepherds, they had also lost by that the time was come that they had need to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this company had over the other. From hence they went on singing, and they said ; * James i. 23—25. 1 Cor. xiii, 12. 2 Cor. iii, 18. Aa 290 the pilgrim's progress, • Behold, how fitly are the tables set Eor their relief that pilgrims are- become, And how they us receive without one let, That make the other life the mark and home. What novelties they have, to us they give, That we, though pilgrims, joyful lives may live. They do upon us, too, sunn things bestow, Tiiat show we pilgrims are, where'er we go. When they were gone from the shepherds, they quickly came to the place Where Christian met with one Turn-away, that dwelt in the town of Apostacy. Wherefore of him, Mr. Great-heart their guide, did now put them in mind, saying, This is the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, who carried with him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concerning this man — he would hear- ken to no counsel, but, once a falling, persuasion could not stop him. When he came to the place where the cross and the sepulchre was he did meet with one that did bid him look there, but he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said, he was resolved to go back to his own town. Before he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, who offered to lay hands on him to turn him into the way again. But this Turn-away re- sisted him, and having done despite unto him, he got a- way over the \vall, and so escaped his hand. Then they went on : and, just at the place where Little-faith formerly was robbed, there stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all bloody. Then said Mr, Great-heart, What art thou ? The man made an- swer saying, I am one whose name is Valiant-for-truth : I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celestial City. Now, ?s I was in my way, there were three men that did beset me, and propounded unto me these three things : Whether I would become one of them ; or go back from whence I came ; or die upon the place ? To the first I answered, 1 had been a true man a long sea- son, and therefore it could not be expected that 1 now should cast in my lot with thieves.* Then they deman- ded what I would say to the second. So I told them the place from whence I came, had I not found incom- *Prov.i. 10—19. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 291 modity there, I had not forsaken it at all ; but finding it altogether unsuitable to me^ and very unprofitable for me, I forsook it for this way. Then they asked me what I said to the third 1 And I told them, My life cost more dear far, than that I should lightly give it away ; besides, you have nothing to do to put things to my choice ; wherefore at your peril be it ii you meddle. Then these three, to wit, Wildhead, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic, drew upon me, and 1 also dre.w upon them. So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of tne marks of their valor, and have also earned away with them some of mine. They are but just now gone ; I suppose they might, as the saying is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook themselves to flight. Gr.-h. But here was great odds, three against one. Val. 'Tis true; but little or more are nothing to him that has the truth on his side : " Though an host should encamp against me," said one, " my heart shall not fear : though war shall rise against me, in this will I be confident," 8cc. Besides, said he, I have' rea,d in some records, that one man has fought an army : and how many did Sampson slay with the jaw bone of an ass ? Then said the guide, why did you not cry out, that some might have come in for your succour? Val. So I did to my King, who I knew could hear me, and afford invisible help, and that was enough for me. Then said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant- for- truth, Thou hast worthily behaved thyself ; let me see thy sword : so he showed it him. When he had taken it into his hand, and locked thereon awhile, be said, Ha ! it is a right Jerusalem blade. Val. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand to wield it, and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it. Pie need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edge will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit and all. Gr.-h. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you was not weary. Val. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand, 292 the pilgrim's progress. and then they were joined together, as if a sword grew out of my arm ; and when the blood run through my fingers, then I fought with most courage. Gr.-h. Thou hast done well ; thou hast " resisted unto blood, striving against sin :*' thou shalt abide by us, come in and go out with us, for we are thy compan- ions. Then they took him, and washed his wounds, and gave him of what they had to refresh him : and so they went together. Now as they went on, because Mr. Great- heart was delighted in him (for he loved one greatly that he found to be a man of his hands ;) and because there were in company them that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned with him about ma- ny things ; as first, what countryman he was ? Val. I am of Dark-land, for there I was born, and there my father and mother are still. Dark-land I said the guide : doth not that lie on the same coast with the city of Destruction ? Val. Yes, it doth. Now that which caused me to come on pilgrimage, was this : we had Mr. Tell-true come into our parts, and he teld it about what Chris- tian had dene, that went from the City of Destruction, namely, how he had forsa.kenhis wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was also confidently reported, how he had killed a serpent, that did come out to resist him in his journey ; and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told, what welcome he had to his Lord's lodgings, especial- ly when he came to the gates of the Celestial city; for there, said the man, he was received with sound of trumpet, by a company of shining ones. He told it al- so, how all the bells in the city did ring for joy at his re- ception, and what golden garments he was clothed with ; with many other things that now 1 shall forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels, that my heart fell into a burn- ing heat to be gone after him : nor could father or mo- ther stay me. So I got from them and am come thus far on my way. Gr.-h. You came in at the gate, did you not ? Val. Yes, yes ; for the same man also told us, thai the pilgrim's progress. 293 all would be nothing, if we did not begin to enter this way at the gate. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrim- age of your husband, and what he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. Val. Why, is this Christian's wife ? Gr.-h. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four sons. Val. What ! and going on pilgrimage too ? Gr.h. Yes, verily, they are following after. Vat. It glads me at heart ; good man, how joyful will he be, when he shall see them, that would not go with him, to enter before him at the gates into the Celestial city! Gr.-h. Without doubc it will be a comfort to him ; ior, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children. Val. But, now you are upon that, pray let me hear your opinion about it. Some make a question, wheth- er we shall know one another when we are there. Gr.~h. Do they think they shall know themselves then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do these, why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare also ? Again, since relations are our second self, though that stale will be dissolved, yet why may it not be rationally concluded that we shall be more glad to see them there, than to see they are wanting ? Val. Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my hegin-< ningto come on pilgrimage ? Gr-h. Yes : was your father and mother willing that you should become a pilgrim ? Val. Oh! no; they used all means imaginable to persuade me to stay at home. Gr.-h What could they say against it ? Val. They sar , it was an idle life ! and, if I. myself were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I would "never countenance a pilgrim's condition. Gr.-h. And what did they say else ? Val Why they told me it was a dangerous way ; Aa2 £94 THE PILGRIM'S PR0SR233* yea, the most dangerous way in the world, say they, Is that which the pilgrims go. Gr.-h. Did they show you wherein this way is dan- gerous ? VaL Yes ; and that in many particulars. Gr.-h. Name some of them. VaL They told me of the slough of Despond \ where' in Christian was well nigh smothered. They told me that there were archers standing ready in Beelzebub Castle, to shoot them that should knock at the Wicket- gate for entrance. They told m? also of the wood and dark mountains, of the hill of Difficulty, of the lions : and also of the three giants Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good : they said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the valley of Humiliation ; and that Chris- tian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the valley of the Shadow oi Death, where the hobgoblins are, where the light is darkness, where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins.— They told me also of giant Despair, of Doubting Castle, and of the ruin the pilgrims met with there. Further, they said,. I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous. And that after all this I should find a river over which I should find no bridge ; and that that ri?er did lie betwixt me and the Celestial country. Gr.-h. And was this, all ? VaL No : they also told me, that this way was full of deceivers ; and of persons that lay in, wait there, to turn, good men out of their path. Gr.-h. But how did they make that out ? VvU They told me that Mr. Worldry-wise-tnsn. did lie there ki wait to deceive. They also said, that there was Formality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They said also, that By-ends, Talkative, or Qemas> would go near to gather me up : that the Flatterer would catch me in his net ; or that with green headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the gate, fron* whence he was sent back to the hole that was in the side, of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell. Gr.-h* I promise you, this was enough to discourage thee. But did they make on end there ? Val No, stay. They told rue also of many that tried TEE PILGRIM'8 PHOGKLSe. 295 that way of old, and that had gone a great way therein, to see if they could find something of the glory there, that so many had so much talked of from time to time ; and how they came back again, and befooled themselves for setting a toot out of doors in that path, — to the sat- isfaction of the country. And they named several that did so, as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and Timor- ous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more ; who, they said, had some of them gone far to see what they could find ; but not one of them found so much advantage by going, as amounted to the weight of a feather. Gr.-h. Said they any thing more to discourage you ? Val. Yes ; they told of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim ; and how he found his way so solitary, that he never had a comfortable hour therein : also that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein, yea, and also (which I had almost forgot) Christian himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after all his ■ventures for a Celestial crown, was certainly drowned in the black river, and never went a foot further, how- ever it was smothered up. Gr.-h. And did none of these things discourage you r Val. No ; they seemed as sr> many nothings to me. Gr. h. How came that about ? Val, Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had said, and that carried me beyond them all. Gr.-h. Then this was your \ictory, even your faith. Val. It was so : I believed, and therefore came our^ got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, and, by believing, am come to this place ! * Who would true valor see, Let him come hither : One here will constant be, Cobq<} wind, come weather; There's no discouragement } Shall make him once relent { His first avow'd intent } To be a pilgrim. Whoso beset him round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound. His, strength the more, & 296 A'o lion can Iiim Fright, Jle'll with a giant tight, But he will lmve a right To be a pilgrim. Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit ; He knows, he at the end, Shall life inherit. Then fancies fly away, He'll not fear what men say, lie' 11 labor night and day To be a piigrim. By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy : and that place was all grown over with briers and thorns, excepting here and there, where was an enchan- ted arbor, upon which if a man sits, or in 'which if a man sleeps, 'tis a question, say some, whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest therefore they went, both one and another ; and Mr. Great-heart went before, for that he was the guide, and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being rear-guard ; for fear lest peradventure some fiend, or lion, or drag- on, or giant, or thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do m'uehief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dan- gerous plaee. Also they cheered up one another, as well as they could ; Feeble-mind, Mr. Great-heart commanded, should come up after him, and Mr. Des- pondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and dark- ness fell upon them all ; so^that they could scarce, for a great while, one see the other ; wherefore they were forced for some time, to feel for one another by words, for they walked not by sight. But any one must think, that here was but sorry going for the best of them all; and how much the worse was it for the women and children, who both of feet and heart were also but ten- der ! Yet nevertheless so it was, that through the en- couraging words of him that led in the front, and of him that brought them up behind, they made pretty good shift to wag along. The way was also fcere yery wearisome, through dirt THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 297 and slabbiness. Nor was there, on all this ground, so much as one inn or victualling-house, wherein to re- fresh the feebler sort. Here therefore was grunting, and puffing, and sighing : while one tumblcth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt : and the children, some of them lost their shoes in the mire : while one cries out, l l am down :' and another, ' Ho t where are you V And a third, * The bushes have got fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them.' Then they came to an arbor, warm, and promising much refreshing to the pilgrims : for it was finely wrought above- head, beautified with greens, furnished with benches and settles. It had in it a soft couch, where the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things-considered, was tempting ; for the pilgrims alrea- dy began to be foiled with the badness of the way ; but there was not one of them made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, for ought I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually when they were the nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the flesh. — The arbor vas called the SlothfuFs Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be some of the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary. I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground, till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was light, their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand : but he had in his pocket a map of all the ways leading to or from the Celestial city ; where- fore he struck a light (for he never goes also without his tinder-box) and takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be careful in that place, to Hirn to the right hand. And had he not here been careful to look in his map, they had in all probability been smothered in the mud ; for just a little before them, and that at the end of the clearest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of nothing but mud, there made on pur- pose to destroy the pilgrims in. Then thought 1 with myself, who, that goeth on pi!- 298 THE grimage, but would have one of these maps about him, that he roay look when he is at a stand, which is the way he must take. They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, till they came to where there was another arbour, and it was built by the high- way-side. And in that at hour lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far on pilgrimage ; but here, be- ing wearied with their journey, sat down to rest them- selves, and so fejl f st asleep. When the pilgrims saw them, they stood still, and shook their heads ; for they knew that the sleepers were in a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do, whether to goon, and leave them in their sleep, or step to them, and try to awake them. So thry concluded to go to them, and awake them : that is, if they could : but with this caution, namely, to take heed that themselves did not sit down, nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbour. So they went in, and spake to the men, and called each by his name (for the guide, it seems, did know them) but there was no voice, nor answer. Then the- guide did shake them, and do what he could to disturb them. Then sah! one of them, 'I will pay you when I take my rnon^y.' At which the guide shook his head. * I wiil fi^ht so long as I can held my sword in my hand/ said the oilier. At that one of the children laughed. Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this 2 Then the guide said, They talk in their sleep ; if you do strike them or beat them, or whatever else you do unto them, they will answer you after this fashion ; or as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the mast cf a ship. " W-h?n I do awake, 1 will seek it yet a- gain."* You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say any thing ; but their words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in their words now ; even as there was before, betwixt their go- ing on pi'grimage, and their sitting down here. This then is the mischief on't, when heedless one9 go on pil- grimage ; twenty to one but they are served thus. For Ibis Enchanted grounn 1 is one of the last refuges that the * Prov. xxii. 34, 35, THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESSt 299 oncmy to pilgrims Las ; wherefore it is, as you see, pla- otd almost at the end of the way, and so it standeth a- gainst us with the more advantage. For when thinks the enemy, will these fools be so desirous to sit down, as when they are weary ? And at what lime =o likely for to be weary, as when they are almost at their jour- Key's end .' Therefore it i 3 , I say, that the Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the laud Beulah, and so near the end of their race* Wherefore let pilgrims look to themselves, Itstit happen to them as it has clone to these that, as yen see, are fallen asleep, and none can awake them. Then the pilgrims desired, with trembling to go for- ward; only they prayed their guide to strike a light, that they might go tne rest of their way by the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by the heip of that, through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great. But the children began to be sorely weary ; and they cried out unto Him that loveth pilgrims, to make their way more comfortable. So by that they had gone a lit- tle further, a wind arose, that drove away the fog ; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off, by much, of the Enchanted Ground, but only now they could see one another better, and also the way wherein they should walk. Now when they were almost at the end of this ground, they perceived, that a little before them was a solemn noise of one that was much concerned. So they went on, and looked before them : and, behold, they saw, as they thought, a man upon his knees, with his hands and eyes lifted up, and speaking, as they thought, earnestly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said ; so they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got up and began to run to- wards the Celestial city. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, saying, ' Soho, friend, let us have your com- pany, if ycu go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial ci- ty.' So the man stopped, and they came up to him: but so soon as Mr. Honest saw him, he said, ' 1 know this man/ Then said Mr. Valiant- for- truth, ' Pr'ythee, who is it?' [ 'Tis one/ said he, ' that comes from ■iOO THE FILGKIM'8 PROGRESS. whereabouts I dwelt : his name is Standfast; he is cer- tainly a right good pilgrim.' So they came up to one another; and presently Standfast said to old Honest, * Ho ! father Honest, are vou there ?' ' Aye,' said he, * that I am, as sure as you aretheie.' ■ Right glad am I,' said Mr. Standfast/ that I have found you on this road,' * And as glad am I,' said^he other, * that 1 espied you on your knees/ Then Mr. Standfast blushed, and said, 4 But why ; did you see me ? « Yes, that 1 did,' quoth the other, ' and with my heart was glad at the sight.' ' Why, what did you think V said Standfast. ' Think !' said old Honest, ' what should 1 think ? I thought we had an honest man .ipon the road, therefore should have his company by and by.' * If you thought not amiss, how happy am I ; but, I be not as I should, 'tis I alone must bear it.' * That is true,' said the other ; * but your fear doth fur- ther confirm me, that things are right betwixt the Prince of pilgrims and your soul : for he saith, " Bles- sed is the man that feareth always." Val. Well, but brother, I pray thee tell us. what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now ? Was it for some obligations laid by special mer- cies upon thee, or how ? Stand. Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchant- ed Ground ; and as I was coming along, I was mus- ing with myself, of what a dangerous nature the road in this piace was ; and how many, that had come even thus far on pilgrimage, had here been stopt and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of death with which this place destroyeth men. Those that die here, die of no violent distemper : the death which such do die is not grievous to them ; for he that goeth away in a sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure : yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour ? S'and. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and also Too-bold there ; and, for aught I know, there they will lie until they rot :* and let me go on with my tale. — As I was thus musing, as I said, there was one in pleasant attire : * James ir, 4< 1 Johu iii, 14, 15. iUE PILGRIM'S PR0GRES8, 301 but old, who presented herself unto me, and offered me three things ; to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now the truth is, I was both weary and sleepy : lam also as poor as an owlet, and that perhaps the witch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and twice ; but she put by my repulses and smiled. Then 1 began to be angry ; but she mattered that nothing at all Then she made offers again, and said, If I would be ruled by her, she would make me great and happy; for, said she, I am the mistress of the world, and men are made happy by me. Then I asked her name, and she told me it was Madam Bubble. This set me further from her ; but she still followed me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you see, to my knees, and with hands lifted up, and cries, I prayed to Him that had said he would help. So just as you came up, the gentlewoman went her way. Then 1 continued to give thanks for this great deliverance ; for I verily believe she intend- ed no good, but rather sought to make a stop ol me in my journey. Hon. Without doubt her designs were bad. But stay, now you talk of her, methinks f either have seen her, or have read some story of her. Stand. Perhaps you have done both. Hon. Madam Bubble ! Is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy complexion ? Stand. Right, you hit it, she is just such an one. Mon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of every sentence ? Stand. You fall right upon it again, for these are her actions. . Hon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side ? And is not her hand often in it fingering her money, as if that was her heart's delight ? Stand. 'Tis just so : had she stood by all this while, you could not more amply have set her forth beiore me, and have better described her features. Hon. Then he that drew her picture was a good lim- ner, and he that wrote of her said true. Qr.-h. This woman is a witch ; and it is by virtue of her sorceries, that this ground is enchanted : whoever doth lay their head down in hst lap, had as goo4 lay ii #02 TBE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. down upon that block over which the axe doth hang ; and whoever lays their eyes upon her beauty, are coun- ted the enemies of God.* This is she that maintaineth in their splendor all those that are the enemies of pil- grims. Yea, this is she that hath brought off many a man from a pilgrim's life. She is a great gossipper ; t>he is always, both she and her daughters, at one pil- grim's heels or another, now commending, and then preferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut ; she will talk with any man. She always laughed poor pilgrims to scorn ; but highly commends the rich. Iftheie be one cunning to get Money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house ; she loveth banquetting and feasting mainly well ; she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in some places that she is a goddess, and therefore some do worship her. She has her time and open places of cheating ; and she will say, and avow it, that none can show a good comparable to her's. She promiseth to dwell with children's children, if they would but love and make much of her. She will cast out her purse of gold like dust, in some places, and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, and she Icves them most that think best of her. She will promise crowns and kingdoms, if they will but take her adfjee : yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thous- and times more to hell. Oh ! said Standfast, what a mercy it is that I did re- sist her ! for whither might she have drawn me ? Gr.h. Whither ! nay, none but God knows. But, in general, to be sure she would have drawn thee into " many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown man in destruction and perdition."! It Was she that set Absa- lom against his father, and Jeroboam against his mas- ter. It was she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demas to forsake the godly pil- grim's life : none can tell of the mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, be- twixt parents and children, betwixt neighbor and neigh- * Prov, x. 7. f 1 Tina. ?4, 9 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 303 bar, betwixt a man and his wife, between a man and himself, betwixt the flesh and the spirit. Wherefore, good master Standfast, be as your name is ; and " when you have done all, stand." At this discourse there was, among the pilgrims, a mixture of joy and trembling i but at length they braise out, and sang— 4 What danger is the pilgrim in ! How many are his foes ? How many ways there are to sin, No living mortal knows. Some in the ditch, spoii'd are, yea can tie tumbling in the mire : Some, though they shun the frying-pan, Do leap into the fire.' After this, I beheld, until they were come unto the land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves a while to rest ; and because this country was common for pilgrims, and because these orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make bold with any of h'13 things. But a little while soon refreshed them here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sounding so melodiously, that they could not sleep : and yet they received as much refreshing, as if they slept their sleep never so soundly. Here also the noise of them that walked in the streets, was, ' More pilgrims are come to town.' And another would an- swer, saying, * And so many went over the water and were let in at the golden gates to-day.* They would cry again. There is now a legion of shining ones just ge to town : by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road ; for here they come to wait for them, and comfort them after their sorrow.' Then the pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro : but how were their eyes now fdled with celestial visions ! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, smelt nothing, taste- 1 nothing that was offensive to their stomach or mind ; only when they tasted of the water of the river, over which they were to go, they thought that it tasted a lit* 304 the pilgrim's progress. tie bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweet when it was down. In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here also much discoursed, how the river to some has its Sowings and what ebbings it has had while others have gone over. It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks lor others. In this place, the children of the town would go into the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the pil- grims, and bring them to them with affection. Here also grew camphire and spikenard, saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, antfaSccs, with all chief spices. With these the pil- grims' chambers were permmed while they staid here ; and with these were their bodies anointed to prepare them to go over the river, when the time appointed was come. Now while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, there was a noise in the town, and there was a post come from the celestial city, with matters of great importance to one Christiana, the wife of Chiistian, the pilgrim. So inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was : so the post presented her with a letter : the contents were : ' Hail good wo- man ! I bring thee tidings, that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldst stand in his pre- sence in clothes of immortality, within these ten days.' When he had read this letter to her, he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was an arrow sharpened with love, let easily into her heart, which, by degrees, wrought so effectually with her, that at the time appointed she must be gone. When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she was the first of this company that was to go o- ver, she called for Mr. Great-heart, her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her, he was heart- ily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the post come lor him. Then she bid that he should give advice how all things should be prepared for her journey. So he told her, saying, Thus and thus it 305 must be ; and we that survive, will accompany you to the river side. Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing ; and told them tnat she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daugh- ters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her children, she called for Mr. Valiant- for- truth, and said unto him, * Sir, you have in all places showed yourself true-hearted ; be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a crown of life. I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children ; and if at any time you see them faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the promise upon them will be their end.' — But she gave Mr. Standfast a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, w Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile." Then said he, ' I wish you a fair day, when you set out for mount Zion, and shall be glad to see that you go o- ver the river dry-shod.' But she answered, * Come wet, come dry, I long to be gone, for, however the wea- ther is in my journey, I shall have time enough, when I come there, to sit down and rest me, and dry me.* Then came in that good man Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see her. So she said to him, * Thy travel hitherto has been with difficulty ; but that will make thy rest the sweeter. But watch and be ready ; for at an hour when you think not, the messenger may come.' After him came in Mr. Despondency, and his daugh- ter Much- afraid ; to whom she said, * You ought, with thankfulness, for ever to remeirber your deliverance from the hand of giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. The effect of that mercy is that you are brought with safety hither. Be yet watchful, and cast away fear, be sober and hope to the end.' Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, * Thou wast delivered from the mouth of giant Slay-good, that thou Bb3 806 the pilgrim's progress, mightest live in the light of the living for ever, and see the King with comfort : only I advise thee to repent thee of thy aptness to fear, and doubt of his goodness, before he sends for thee ; lest thou shouldst, when he comes, be forced to stand before him, for the fault, with blushing.* Now the day drew on, that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people, to see her take her jour- ney. But, behold, all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots, which were come down from above to accompany her to the city gate. So she came forth, and entered the riveiS with a beckon of farewell to those that followed her to the river side. The last words that she was heard to say, were, * I come, Lord, to be with thee, and bless thee.' So her children and friends returned to their place, for that those that waited for Christiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate, with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had entered with before her. At her departure, the children wept. But Mr. Great- heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well-tuned cym- bal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respect- ive places. In process of time, there came a post to the town a- gaih, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired him out, and said, 4 1 am come to thee in the name of him whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches : and my message is, to tell thee, that he expects thee at his table, to sup with him in to kingdom, the next day after Easter : wherefore prepare thyself for thy journey .^Then he also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, saying, " I have broken the golden bowl, and loosed the silver cord."* After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow- pilgrims, and \old them, saying, * I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also/ So he desired Mr. Valiant to make his will ; and because he had nothing to bequeath to them that should survive him, but his crutches and his good wishes, therefore thus he said : 4 Tfcae cratches I bequeath to my son that shall tread *Ecclet.xii.l— 7. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 307 in my steps, with an hundred warm wishes, that he may prove better than I have been.' Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed himself to his louniey. ■ — When he came to the brink of the river, he said, * Now I shall have no more need of these crutches, since yonder are chariots and horses, for me to ride on.' The last words lie was heard to say, were ' Welcome life ! So he went his way. After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him, that the post sounded his horn at his chamber door. Then he came in, and told him, saying, 4 1 am come to tell thee, that my master has need of thee ; and that in a very little time thou must behold his face in bright- ness. And take this as a token of the truth of my mes- sage : " Those that look out at the windows shall be darkened." Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he hsd received of the truth cf the message. Then he said, ' Since I have nothing to bequeath to a- ny, to what purpose should 1 make a will ? As fcr my feeble mind that I will leave behind, for that 1 have no need of it in the place whither I must go; nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrims : where- fore, when I am gone, L desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in the dung-hill/ This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest : his last words were, 4 Hold cut, faith and patience.' So he went over to the other side. When days had many of them passed away, Mr. Des- pondency was sent for ; for a post was come, and brought this message to him : ' Trembling man, these are to summon thee to be ready with the King by the next Lord's day, to shout for joy, tor thy deliverance from all thy doubtings. — And,' said the messenger, * that my message is true, take this fcr a proof:' so he gave a " grass-hopper to be a burden unto him.'" — Now Mr. Despondency's daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, when she had heard what was done, that she should go with her father. Then Mr. Des- pondency said to his friends, 4 Myself and my daughter, you know what we bare been, and how troublesomely 308 the pilgrim's progress. we have behaved ourselves in every company ;-~my will, and my daughter's is, that our desponds and sla- vish fears be by no man ever received, from the day of cur departure, for ever : for I know that after my death, they will offer themselves to others. For, to be plain with you, they are guests which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after : and they will walk about and seek entertainment oi the pilgrims ; but, for our sakes shut the door upon them. When the time was come for them to depart, they went up to the brink of the river. * The last words of Mr. Despondency were, 4 Farewell, night ! Welcome, day ! His daughter went througn tne river singing, but none could understand what she said. Then it came to pass awhile after, that there was a post in the town, that enquired for Mr. Honest. So he came to his house, where he was, and delivered to his hands these lines : i Thou art commanded to be rea- dy against this day se'nnigrt, to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's house.' And, for a token that my message is true, " All the daughters of music shall be brought low." — Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, ' I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me ; let him that comes after be told of this. When the day that he was to be gone was come, he addressed himself to go over the river. Now the ri- ver at that time overflowed the banks in some places ; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime, had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet him there : the which he also did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, " Grace reigns!** So he left the world. After this, it was noised about that Mr. Valiant-for- truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other ; and had this for a token, that the summons was true, that " his pitcher was broken at the fountain." When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then said he, < I am going to my Father's ; and though with great difficulty I got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been^at to arrive where I am. My sword 1 give to him THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 309 that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage, and my cour- age and skill to him that can get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness tor me, that I have fought his battles, who now will be my rewar- ded— When the day that he must go hence was come, ma- ny accompanied him to the river side, into which as he went, he said, " Death, where is thy sting V and as he went down deeper, he said, " Grave where is thy victory V So he passed overhand all the trumpets soun- ded for him on the other side. Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Standfast. This Mr. Standfast was he that the pilgrims found up- on his knees in the Enchanted Ground, and the post brought it him open in his hands : the contents where- of were, that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr- Standfast was put into a muse. * Nay,' said the messenger, ' you need not doubt of the truth of my message ; for here is a to- ken of the truth thereof, — " Thy wheel is broken at the cistern." Then he called to him Mr. Great-heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, ' Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your good company in the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I left behind me a wife and five small chil- dren f let me entreat you, at your return (for I know that you go and return to your Master's house, in hopes that you may be a conductor to more of bis holy pil- grims) that you send to my family, and let them be ac- quainted with all that hath and shall happen unto me. Tell them, moreover, of my happy arrival at this place, and of the present and late blessed condition that I am in. Tell them also of Ch? istian and Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whither she "is gone. — I have little or nothing to send to my family, except it be my prayers and tears for them : of which it will suffice if you acquaint them, if peradventure they may prevail.' When Mr.-Standfast had thus set things in order, and the time being come for him to haste away, he also 310 THE PILGRIM S PROGRESS. went down to the river. Now there was a great calm at that time in the river ; wherefore Mr. Standfast, when he was about halfway in, stood a while and talked to his companions that had waited upon him thither ; and he said, ' This river has been a terror to many : yea, the thoughts of it also often have frightened me : now, methinks, I stand easy ; my foot is fixed upon that on which the feet of the priests that bare the ark of the co- venant stood, while Israel went over this Jordan.* The waters, indeed, are to the palate bitter, and to the stom- ach cold ; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the conduct that waits me on the other side, doth lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end of my journey: my toilsome days are ended. I am going to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me. 1 have formerly lived by hearsay and faith : but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to hear my lord spoken of ; and wherever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. His name has been to me as a civet box : yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet ; and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His words I did use to gather for my food, and for an- tidotes against my faintings. He has held me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities ; yea, my steps have been strengthened in his way.' Now, while he was thus in his discourse, his counte- nance changed ; his strong man bowed under him :" and, after he had said, ' Take me, for 1 co « ■ ; unto thee, 1 he ceased to be seen of them. But glorious it was to see, how the open region was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters, and pi- pers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to wel- om? the pilgrims as they went up, and followed one another in at the beautiful gate of the city. As for Christiana's children, the four boys that Chris- tiana brought, with their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also, since *Josb.iii. 17. 311 I came away, I heard one say, they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the church in that place where they were, for a time. Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it, an account of what I here am silent about ; mean time I bid my reader FAREWEIT FINIS, . ■ £3&S3r