"> ■■' ~V» ■■--■•;,<.

■t

I iji'.i Mtvitmmtpti0m>$0(>miil»tl!)fm>''lM'>>>'^

i»>|ii^iilpWi|iii^iiiiniiiimiliii|MMiiiliMiiiTiiiii^i>««ilw«iwmiiBi;wH<^i

mil ibniiii! lun'mii imM^iii mi, uiiiiii.iiiiiiii

T3TT /^'

PROGRE

Cibrarj? of t:he 'theological ^tminary

PRINCETON . NEW JERSEY PRESENTED BY

The estate of The Rev. Walter Lowrie Class of 1893

Folio PR 3330. A2 R4 Bunyan, John Pilgrim's Progress

PORTRAIT OF BUNYAN. (From the Statue at Bedford, by Sir Edgar Boehm.)

THE

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

MAR 5

^^/:.^L

THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK.

FOREWORDS,

BY THE REV. H. R. HAWEIS.

EXT to the Bible, the " Pilgrim's Progress " is prob- ably the book which has exercised more influence over the Religion of England than any other.

It did for Protestantism what Dante did for Roman Catholicism — whilst exposing sometimes naively its weak points, it affirmed its doctrines, and popularized their application to current life. It supplied what Mikon's " Paradise Lost " failed to give — some account of the ethics of the soul.

From Mikon we get our plan of salvation, but from Bunyan we get our conceptions of morakty and our theory of spiritual development.

Perhaps few of those many who bekeve that the Bible is their sole spiritual guide realize the extent to which they sec the Old Testament through Milton's eyes, and bekeve in the Gospel according to Bunyan. There is yet another parallel. Bunyan supplied that imaginative touch and that glow of pictorial sentiment without which no religious message seems to win the masses.

He did with his " Pilgrim's Progress " — for a somewhat arid and stern Evangelicalism which repudiated the saintly legends and the material splendors of Rome — what Keble, with his " Christian Year," did for the dry bones of Angkcanism.

Keble made Anglicanism poetical. Bunyan made Evangelicalism romantic.

A greater than Bunyan or Keble adopted a similar method, when, as we read, " Without a parable He taught not the people." The ex- traordinary popularity of Bunyan's great book, one hundred thousand copies of which were circulated in his own lifetime, is not far to seek. He embodied his age — not its secular, but its religious side. No man could have been less influenced by the decapitation of Charles I, the accession of Cromwell, the restoration of that mundane merry mon- arch, Charles 11. He lived through all these, in and out of prison, married and single, with his finger ever on the religious pulse of Eng- land ; he was as little disturbed by wars and rumors of wars, political cabals and commercial bubbles, as were the great violin-makers of Brescia and Cremona by the political disturbances and bloody squabbles of the small Italian princelets of their day.

But in providing what the people really wanted, Bunyan was a master. They wanted the Bible ; Bunyan gave it them. They felt its power ; Bunyan showed them how to apply it. They kindled to its divine words, which they only half understood ; Bunyan explained them. They needed, above all things, an infallible Book to replace the infallible Pope, whom they had knocked down. Bunyan not only told them that they might exchange the fallibility of men for the infallibility of God, but he provided for them such a battery of texts fitting every conceivable emergency and case of conscience that his New Bible Christian ceased to miss all those props of life and aids to devotion so skilfully devised for her children by the genius and varied mechan- ism of the Roman Church. And they got it all without the tyranny of Rome.

The impression a man of genius makes upon his age is in direct proportion to his intensity. The saints were vast accumulators of spiritual life. They were mighty reservoirs from which the people drank and went on their way rejoicing.

Emerson says the difference between great men and others is that there are more of them: they are many men rolled into one. They are macrocosms. That was true of Bunyan. Some men have some religious experience. Bunyan seems to have had all the spiritual experiences that could be had. There is no state, from blasphemy to ecstasy, which he had not sounded to its depths. Every event of his life, and every thought and sentiment came to him as so much teach-

ing and discipline. What attracts us to him most is not the soundness of his judgment, nor his learning. The intellectual propositions which commended themselves to him seem to us often unreasonable, and his biblical learning, beyond a marvelous acquaintance with the letter of the Bible, is almost ml. He reminds us a little sometimes of the unlettered gospeler addressing his audience on the uselessness of all human learning and reasoning, when you might have the Word of God Himself to enlighten you.

" What, my brethren," he exclaimed, " is the use of it all ? Did Paul know Greek ? "

Had Bunyan known a little more Greek it would have done him no harm ; and as to the comparative importance of Bible texts, why, it never occurred to him that a text was good for anything but edifica- tion, or that one text was not as good as another, if only it fitted an occasion. The Song of Solomon, or the Gospel of John, 'tis all one to good Bunyan. There is such a thing as idolatry of the Bible. It was the vice of his time, and to this day the Bible Christian suffers as Bunyan suffered (and the Church suffers too) from the defects of his qualities.

But his ingenuity is often marvellous, and one great source of his power is the often felicitous and sometimes fascinating use which he makes of texts.

" It was builded," he says of the Celestial City, " of Pearls and pre- cious Stones, ... so that by reason of the natural glory of the City, and the reflection of the Sun-beams upon it. Christian, with desire fell sick. Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same Disease. Wherefore here they lay by it a while, crying out because of their pangs, // you see my Belo'bed, tell him that I am sick of love. ' ' This is as truly poetic as it is undoubtedly quaint.

Our " Pilgrim's Progress " is not only enlivened by conversations full of the deepest and surest spiritual instincts, so that it is a veritable manual of conscience cases, but it has what is so often wanting in persons of Bunyan's type of mind, the bull's-eye of wit, which is un- expectedly turned on to such persons as may be convicted of absurdity when they cannot be convinced of sin. The exposure of Mr. Talka- tive, who would chatter for any length of time about anything plau- sibly enough, but whose talk ended in smoke, or of Mr. By-ends, who

was not to be condemned, according to himself, as a time server be- jel cause his opinions always had the peculiarity of jumping with the times, or of Mr. Money-love, who found it possible to justify the morality of any action which brought him cash, are delightful cases in point.

His names alone are of quite monumental significance and sugges- tiveness. The jury in Vanity Fair, who tried Pilgrim and his friends, and consisted, amongst others, of Mr. Blind-man, Mr. No-good, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, and Mr. Hate-light, act and speak with delicious appropriateness.

" Away with such a fellow," " A sorry scrub," " My heart riseth against him," " Hanging is too good for him ! " etc. Or consider the exquisite feeling which inspired Bunyan with such names as Great- heart, Hopeful, Faithful, Evangelist, or such as the Delectable Moun- tains, the Celestial City, and the King's Highway, and many more, which have become part of almost every Christian's imaginative outfit, as he follows in the footsteps of the great Pilgrim.

It is not necessary here to discuss Bunyan's theology. It was neither better nor worse than that of his age. The fires of hell, the forensic view of the Atonement, the material splendors of Heaven, his excessive reverence for the letter of the Book, belong rather to the form than to the essence of his doctrine, the center of which will always remain glowing with the love of God, bright with the disci- pline of the Soul, and radiating the enthusiasm of Humanity. These are the things unseen and eternal, which, when the Pilgrim awakes, he will surely find to have been, after all, no dream.

>^

V3

,^i

i^l

^^<

'C^\t

\\>

^■

re;

^^

X

^t,

%.

iQ^i

iG^(

&t)

ly:

C^

THE

AUTHOR^S APOLOGY

FOR HIS BOOK.

<o^y

^^

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

And thus it was : I writing of the Way

And Race of Saints, in this our Gospel-Day,

Fell suddenly into an Allegory

About their Journey, and the way to Glory,

In more than twenty things, which I set down ;

This done, I twenty more had in my Crown,

And they again began to multiply.

Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.

Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,

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

Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out

The Book that I already am about.

Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think To show to all the World my Pen and Ink

J

U<^(S

;ji

rvS'

®o'.«o

OOo

®,

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 ; And 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 worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.

Thus I set Pen to Paper with delight. And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. For having now my Method by the end, Still as I pull'd, it came ; and so I penn'd It down ; until at last it came to be. For length and breadth the bigness which you see.

Well, when I had thus put mine ends together, I shew'd them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify : And some said, let them live ; some, let them die. Some said, John, print it; others said. Not so: Some said, It might do good ; others said, No.

Now was I in a strait, and did not see Which was the best thing to be done by me : At last I thought. Since you are thus divided, I print it will ; and so the case decided.

For, thought I, Some, I see, would have it done. Though others in that Channel do not run ; To prove then who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.

I further thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it thus, to gratify, I did not know but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight.

For those which were not for its coming forth, I said to them. Offend you I am loth ; Yet since your Brethren pleased with it be. Forbear to judge, till you do further sec.

If that thou wilt not read, let it alone; Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone :

• O o©'

f®^

<g>

®,

\^i

o • o

'^®.

"®*®,

,®:

\^

Yea, that I might them better palliate, I did too with them thus expostulate.

May I not write in such a stile as this ? In such a method too, and yet not miss Mine 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 her Fruit None can distinguish this from that, they suit Her well, when hungry : but if she be full. She spues out both, and makes their blessings null.

You see the ways the Fisherman doth take To catch the Fish ; what Engins doth he make ? Behold how he ingageth all his Wits, Also his Snares, Lines, Angles, Hooks and Nets. Yet Fish there be, that neither Hook, nor Line, Nor Snare, nor Net, nor Engine can make thine ; They must be grop't for, and be tickled too. Or they will not be catcht, what e're you do.

How doth the Fowler seek to catch his Game, By divers means, all which one cannot name ? His Gun, his Nets, his Limetwigs, light, and bell : He creeps, he goes, he stands ; yea who can tell Of all his postures. Yet there's none of these Will 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 in a Toads-head dwell, And may be found too in an Oystershell ; If things that promise nothing, do contain What better is than Gold ; who will disdain, (That have an inkling of it,) there to look. That they may find it. Now my little Book, (The' void of all those paintings that may make It with this or the other Man to take.)

S(s)(

/ . 0 V o

But must I needs want solidness, because By Metaphors I speak ; Was not Gods Laws, His Gospel-Laws, in older time held forth By Types, Shadows and Metaphors ? Yet loth Will any sober man be to find fault With them, lest he be found for to assault 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 Lambs, God speaketh to him. And happy is 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 shew, not solid be ; All things in parables despise not we. Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive. And things that good are, of our souls bereave.

My dark and cloudy words they do but hold The Truth, as Cabinets inclose the Gold.

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

Am I afraid to say that holy Writ, Which for its Stile, 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 turns our darkest nights to days.

Come, let my Carper to his Life now look. And find There darker lines than in my Book He 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 durst adventure Ten,

rM

That they will take my meaning in these lines Far better than his Lies in Silver Shrines. Come, Truth, although in Swadling-clouts, I find Informs the Judgment, rectifies the Mind, Pleases the Understanding, makes the Will Submit ; the Memory too 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 doth 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.

Let me add one word more, O man of God 1 Art thou offended ? dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress. Or that I had in things been more express ? Three things let me propound, then I submit To those that are my betters, as is fit.

\. I find not that I am denied the use Of this my method, so I no 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, (Example too, and that from them that have God better pleased by their words or ways, Than any man that breatheth now a-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- wise ; yet no man doth them slight For writing so : Indeed if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and, the craft they use

r1\

ri

Ji

And now, before I do put up my Pen,

I'll shew the profit of my Book, and then

Commit both thee, and it unto that hand

That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

This Book it chalketh out before thine eyes The man that seeks the everlasting Prize : It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes, What he leaves undone ; also what he does : It also shews you how he runs and runs, Till he unto the Gate of Glory comes.

It shews too, who sets out for life amain, As if the lasting Crown they would attain ; Here also you may see the reason why They lose their labour, 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 ? Wouldest thou see a Truth within a Fable ? Art thou forgetful ? wouldest thou remember From Ne'w-year' s-day to the last of December ? Then read my fancies, they will stick like Burs, And may be to the Helpless, Comforters.

This Book is writ in such a Dialect, As may the minds of listless men affect : It seems a Novelty, and yet contains Nothing but sound, and honest Gospel-strains.

Would'st thou divert thyself from Melancholy ? Would'st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly ? Would'st thou read Riddles, & their Explanation ? Or else be drowned in thy Contemplation ? Dost thou love picking meat ? Or wouldst thou see A man i' th Clouds, and hear him speak to thee ?

IT

I fear that this burden that is upon my back, will sink me lower than the Grave.

tress ; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble in- creased: wherefore 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 boivels, I your dear friend, am in my- self undone, by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me : more- over, I am for certain informed that this our City ivill be burned ivith fire from Heaven, in ivhich fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee, my Wife, and you my siveet babes, shall miserably come to except (the ivhich, yet I see not) some ivay of escape can be

rum,

found, 'whereby ive may be delivered. At this his Relations were sore amazed; not for that they believed that what he had said to them was true, but because they thought that 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 troublesome to him as the day : where- fore instead of sleep- ing, he spent it in sighs and tears. So when the morning was come, they would know how he did; he told them, worse and worse. He also set to talking to them again, but they be- gan to be hardened; they also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriages to him : sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and

sometimes they would quite neglect him: wherefore he began to retire him- self to his Chamber to pray for, and pity them ; and also to condolehisown mis- ery : he would also walk solitarily in the Fields, sometimes reading, and some- times 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 perceived he could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a Man named Evangelist com- ing to him, and asked. Wherefore doest 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 Judgement ; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second.

Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die ? since this life is attended with so many evils? The Man answered. Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back, will sink me lower than the Grave ; and I shall fall into Tophet. And Sir, if I be not fit to go to Prison, I am not fit (I am sure) to go to Judgement, and from thence to Execution ; and the thoughts of these things make me cry.

Then said Evangelist, ..." Do you see yonder Wicket-gate ? "

r ^W

KM

Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why standest thou still ? He answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave him a Parchment Roll, and there was written within, Fly from the Hvrath to come.

The Man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist very care- fully ; said. Whither must I fly ? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide Field, Do you see yonder Wicket-gate ? The Man said. No. Then said the other. Do you see yonder shining light ? He said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shaft 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 return: but the Man put his fingers in his Ears, and ran on crying. Life, Life, Eternal Life : so he looked not be- hind him, but fled towards the middle of the Plain.

The Neighbors also came out to see him run, and as he ran, some mocked, others threatned ; and some cried after him to return. And among those that did so, there were two that were resolved to fetch him back by force : the name of the one was Obstinate, and the name of the other Pliable. Now by this time the Man was got a good dis- tance from them; But however they were resolved to pursue him; which they did, and in a little time they over-took him. Then said the Man, Neighbors, Wherefore are you come ? They said. To per- swade 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 then 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 is not worthy to be compared 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 I my- self ; for there where I go, is enough, and to spare ; Come away, and prove my words.

A

The Man put his fingers in his Ears, and ran on crying, Life, Life, Eternal Life.

wHm&

W

irKM

Obs. 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 aivay ; and it is laid up in Heaven, and safe there, to be bestowed at the time appointed on them that diligently seek it. Read it so, if you will, in my Book.

Obs. Tush, said Obstinate, away luith your Book; will you go back ivith us, or no ?

Chr. No, not I, said the other ; because I have laid my hand to the Plough.

Obs. Come then. Neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, and go home without him; There is a Company of these Craz' d-headed Cox- combs, that ivhen they take a fancy by the end, are iviser in their oivn eyes than seven men that can render a Reason,

Pli. Then said Pliable, Don't revile ; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks after, are better than ours : my heart inclines to go with my Neighbor.

Obs. What I more Fools still ? be ruled by me and go back ; ivho knows ivhither such a brainsick fellcnu ivill lead you ? Go back, go back, and be ivise.

Chr. Nay, but do thou come with me Neighbor Pliable; there arc such things to be had which I spoke of, and many more Glories be- sides. If you believe not me, read here in this Book; and for the trtrth of what is exprest therein, behold all is confirmed by the blood of him that made it.

Pli, Well Neighbor Obstinate, {said Pliable) / begin to come to a point ; I intend to go along ivith this good man, and to cast in my lot ivith him : But my good Companion, do you knoiv the ivay to this desired place ?

Chr. I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little Gate that is before us, where we shall receive instruction about the way.

Pli. Come then good Neighbor, let us be going. Then they went both together.

Obs. 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,

6

rm

Christian and Pliable went talking over the Plain ; and thus they be- gan their discourse,

Chr. Come Neighbor Pliable, how do you do ? I am glad you are perswaded to go along with me ; and had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt of the Powers and Terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back.

Pli. Come Neighbor Christian, since there is none but us tivo here, tell me noiv further ivhat the things are, and hoiv to be enjoyed, •whither ive 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 ivords of your Book are certainly true?

Chr. Yes verily, for it was made by him that cannot lye.

Pli. Well said ; 'what things are they ?

Chr. There is an endless Kingdom to be inhabited, and everlast- ing life to be given us, that we may in- habit that kingdom for ever.

Pli. Well said; and ivhat else ?

Chr. There are Crowns of Glory to be given us; and Garments that will make us shine like the Sun in the Firmament of Heaven.

Pli. This is ex- cellent; and ivhat else ?

Chr. There shall be no more ., , ^^ ,u , u ni, ,■ , u i

Now I saw in my Dream, that when ubstina.te was gone back, crying, nor SOr- arrV/an and P/(<jWe went talking over the Plain.

7

I

fiP:^

M

row;

For he that is owner of the place, will wipe all tears from our eyes.

Pli. And 'what company shall ive have there ?

Chr. There we shall be with Seraphims, and Cherubins, Creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them : There also you shall meet with thousands, and ten thousands that have gone before us to that place ; none of them are hurtful, but loving, and holy : every one walk- ing 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 the Holy Virgins with their Golden Harps : there we shall see Men that by the World were cut in pieces, burned in flames, eaten of Beasts, drowned in the Seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and cloathed with Immortality as with a Garment.

Pli. The hearing of this is enough to ravish ones heart ; but are these things to be enjoyed} Hoiv shall ive get to be Sharers hereof}

Chr. The Lord, the Governor of that 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.

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 upon my back.

Now I saw in my Dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they drew near 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 Dispond. Here therefore they wal- lowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the dirt ; and Chris- tian, because of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in the Mire.

Pli. Then said Pliable, Ah, Neighbor Christian, li>here are you noTV }

Chr. Truly, said Christian, I do not know.

Pli. At that Pliable began to be offended ; and angerly said to his Fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this Jijhile of} If ive have such ill speed at our first setting out, ivhat may ive expect, 'tivixt this and our Journeys end} May I get oat again ivith my life.

ET r>

0

3

r>

o

c

O

•o

o

a

Ok

m

<?f

vi*

*

.«

you shall possess the brave Country alone for me. 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 House : so away he went, and Christian saw him no more.

Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Dis- pond alone ; but still he endeavoured to struggle to that side of the Slough that was still further 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 beheld in my Dream, that a Man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him. What he did there ?

Chr. Sir, said Christian, I was directed this way, by a man called Evangelist ; who directed me also to yonder Gate, that I might escape the wrath to come : And as I was going thither, I fell in here.

Help. But ivhy did you not look for the steps ?

Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that I fled the next way, and fell in.

Help. Then, said he. Give me thy hand f So he gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his way.

Then I stepped to him that pluckt him out, and said. Sir, where- fore, since 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 might go thither with more security ? And he said unto me. This Miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended. It is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continu- ally run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Dispond : for still as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth 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 this ground.

It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so bad. His Laborers also have, by the direction of His Majestye's Sur- veyors, been for above this sixteen hundred years imployed about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended : yea, and to my knowledge, said he. Here hath been swallowed up at least twenty million Cart Loads ; yea millions, of wholesome Instructions, that have at all seasons been brought from all places of the Kings Dominions ;

IT

^

10

f«ii^

(and they that can tell, say, they are the best Materials to make good ground of the place ;) if so be it might have been mended ; but it is the Slough of Dispond still, and so will be, when they have done what they can.

True, there are by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and substantial Steps, placed even through the very midst of this Slough ; but at such time as this place doth much spue out its filth, as it doth against change of Weather, these steps are hardly seen ; or if they be. Men through the dizziness of their heads, step besides ; and then they are bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there ; but the ground is good when they are once got in at the Gate.

Now I saw in my Dream, that by this time Pliable was got home to his House again. 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 Cow- ardliness ; saying. Surely since you began to venture, 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 be- hind his back.

And thus much concerning Pliable.

Now as Christian was walking solitary by himself, he espied one afar off come crossing over the field to meet him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were crossing the way of each other. The Gen- tleman's name 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 Christian'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. — Master Worldly -Wiseman therefore, having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk with Christian.

World. Hcnv now, good fellow, whither away after this bur- dened manner?

Chr. a burdened manner indeed, as ever I think poor creature had. And whereas you ask me. Whither away, I tell you. Sir, I am going

«>

►5

^

11

By this time Pliable, was got home to his House again. So his Neighbours came to visit him; and some of them called

him wise Man for coming back ; and some called him Fool.

o -.H®

0«

(5):

®^

to yonder Wicket-gate before me ; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put into a way to be rid of my heavy burden.

World. Hast thou a Wife and Children ?

Chr. Yes, but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly : methinks, I am as if I had none.

World. Witt thou hearken to me, if I give thee counsel?

Chr. K it be good, I will ; for I stand in need of good counsel.

World. / luould 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 blessing ivhich God hath bestoived upon thee till then,

Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden ; but get it off my self I cannot : nor is there a man in our Country 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 thee go this ivay to be rid of thy burden ?

Chr. a man that appeared to me to be a very great and honorable person ; his name, as I remember, is Evangelist.

World. / beshroiv him for his counsel ; there is not a more dan- gerous and troublesome ivay in the ivorld than is that unto ivhich he hath directed thee ; and that thou shall find if thou ivilt be ruled by his counsel. Thou hast met ivith something (a5 / perceive) already; for I see the dirt of the Slough of Dispond is upon thee; but that Slough is the beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that ivay. Hear me, I am older than thou ! thou art like to meet ivith in the ivay ivhich thou goest, Wearisomness, Painfulness, Hun- ger, Perils, Nakedness, Sivord, Lions, Dragons, Darkness, and in a ivord, death, and ivhat not ? These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And ivhy should a man so care- lessly cast aivay himself, by giving heed to a stranger ?

Chr. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than all these things which you have mentioned : nay, methinks I care not what I meet with in the way, so be I can also meet with deliver- ance from my burden.

World, Hoiv camest thou by thy burden at first ?

Chr. By reading this Book in my hand.

World. / thought so ; and it is happened unto thee as to other weak men, who meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly

oOO

^o

I®

13

0--P.

•®®:

©.

<«)\

The Gentleman's name was Mr. Worldly - Wiseman.

dally, since {hadst thou but patience to hear me,) I could direct thee to the obtaining of 'ii>hat thou desirest, ivithout the dangers that thou in this ivay luilt run thy self into : yea, and the remedy is at hand. Be- sides, I iP^ill add, that instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet ivith much safety, friendship, and content.

Chr. Pray, Sir open this secret to me.

World. Why in yonder Village, (the Village is named Morality) there dl^ells a Gentleman, Ji>hose name is Legality, a very judicious man {and a man of a very good name) that has skill to help men off liiith such burdens as thine are from their shoulders : yea, to my knoTf- ledge he hath done a great deal of good this ivay : Aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somenvhat crazed in their ivits l^ith their burdens. To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped pres- ently. His house is not quite a mile from this place ; and if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his Son, ivhose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as l^ell as the old Gen- tleman himself: There, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden, and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, as indeed I

14

f\

would not ivish thee, thou mayest send for thy Wife and Children to thee to this Village, 'where there are houses noTi) stand empty, one of ybhich thou mayest have at reasonable rates : Provision is there also cheap and good, and that ivhich will make thy life the more happy, is, to be sure there thou shall live by honest neighbors, in credit and 1/ y'-.-l- good fashion.

Now was Christian somewhat at a stand, but presently he con- cluded ; if this be true which this Gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice ; and with that he thus farther spoke.

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. Legality's house for help: but behold, when he was got now hard by the Hill, it seemed so high, and also that side of it that was next 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 he wot not what to do. Also his burden, noiv, seemed 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 therefore he sweat, and did quake for fear. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly -Wisemans counsel; and with that he saw Evangelist coming 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.

Evan. What doest thou here ? Christian, said he ? at which word Christian knew not what to answer : wherefore, at present he stood speechless before him. Then said Evangelist farther, c/lrt not thou the man that I found crying without the l^alls of the City of De- struction ?

Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man.

Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicket-gate ?

Chr. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian.

15

Evan. Hoti) is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside ? for thou art no7t> out of the ti^ay,

ChR; I met with a Gentleman, so soon as I had got over the Slough of Dispond, who perswaded me that I might, in the Villagehdovz me, find a man that could take off my burden.

Evan. What "ivas 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 made a stand, lest it should fall on my head.

Evan. What said that Gentleman to you ?

Chr. Why, he asked me whither I was going, and I told him.

Evan, c/lnd what said he then ?

Chr. He asked me if I had a Family, and I told him : but, said I, I am so loaden with the burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them as formerly.

Evan. <And ivhat said he then ?

Chr. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden, and I told him, 'twas ease that I sought : And said I, I am therefore going to yonder Gate to receive further direction how I may get to the place of deliver- ance. So he said that he would shew me a better way, and short, not so attended with difficulties, as the way. Sir, that you set me : which way, said he, will direct you to a Gentleman's house that hath 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 beheld things as they are, I stopped for fear, (as I said) of danger : but I now know not what to do.

Evang. Then (said Evangelist) stand still a little, that I may sheiv thee the 1i)ords of God. So he stood trembling. Then (said Evan- gelist) See that ye refuse not him that speaketh ; for if they escaped not ivho refused him that spake on Earth, much more shall not ive escape, if 'ii>e turn aiuay from him that speaketh from Heaven. He said moreover, Noiv the just shall lit>e by faith; but if any man draivs back, my soul shall h^e no pleasure in him. He also did thus apply them. Thou art the man that art running into this misery, thou hast began to reject the counsel of the most high, and to dre^to back thy foot from the ivay of peace, even almost to the hazard- ing of thy perdition.

16

m^k

Then Christian fell down at his foot as dead, crying, Woe is me, for I am undone: at the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right hand, saying, all manner of sin and blasphemies 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, Gi1>e more earnest heed to the things that I shall tell thee of. I will now shew thee who it was that deluded thee, and who 'twas also to whom he sent thee. The man that met thee, is one Worldly - Wiseman, and rightly is he so called ; partly, because he savoureth only the Doctrine of this world (therefore he always goes to the Town of Morality to Church) and partly be- cause he loveth that Doctrine best, for it saveth him from the Cross ; and because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to prevent my ways, though right. Now there are three things in this mans counsel that thou must utterly abhor :

1 . His turning thee out of the way.

2. His labouring to render the Cross odious to thee.

3. And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the admin- istration 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 Worldly - Wiseman. The Lord says. Strive to enter in at the strait gate, the gate to which I sent thee ; for strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and fe<iv there be that find it. From this little wicket-gate, and from the way thereto hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction ; hate therefore his turning thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him.

Secondly, Thou must abhor his labouring to render the Cross odi- ous unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt : besides, the King of Glory hath told thee, that he that will save his life, shall lose it : and he that comes after him, and hates not his father, and mother, and ivife, and children, and brethren, and sisters ; yea, and his oTun life also, he cannot be my Disciple. I say therefore, for a man to labour to perswade thee, that that shall be thy death, without which the truth hath said, thou canst not have eternal life, This Doc- trine thou must abhor.

17

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 mystery this Mount Sinai, which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now if she with her children are in bondage, 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 an alien, and Mr. Legality a cheat: and for his son Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but an hypo- crite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise, that thou hast heard of this sottish man, 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 confir- mation of what he had said ; and with that there came words and fire out of the Mountain under which poor Christian stood, that made the hair of his flesh stand. The words were thus pronounced. As many as are of the luorks of the Laiv, are under the curse f for it is ivritten. Cursed is e'i>ery one that continueth not in all things 'which are Ivritten in the Book of the Laiv to do them.

Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to cry out lamentably, even cursing the time in which he met with Mr. Worldly- Wiseman, still calling himself a thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel : he also was greatly ashamed to think that this Gentleman's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have that prcvalency with him to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows.

Chr. Sir, what think you ? is there hopes ? 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, but may my sin be forgiven ?

EvANG. Then said Evangelist to him. Thy sin is very great, for by it thou hast committed two evils ; thou hast forsaken the way that is

18

t^ov

,o o©'

r®'

?0

0 .-r"

o».H®

(<s>l

0c

©J

®^

Jft

And with that there came words and fire out of the Mountain under which poor Christian stood.

good, to tread in forbidden paths : yet will the man of the Gate receive thee, for he has good will for men ; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside again, lest thou perish from the way when his wrath is kindled but a little. Then did Christian address himself to go back, and Evangelist, after he had kist 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 man 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. Knock and it shall be opened unto you. He knocked therefore, more than once or twice, saying,

May I noti) enter here ? will he ivithin Open to sorry me, though I have been An undese/hing Rebel ? then shall I Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.

At last there came a grave Person to the Gate, named Goodwill, who asked Who was there ? and 'ii>hence he came? and ti}hat he tijould have ?

Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the City of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from the wrath to come. I would therefore, Sir, since I am informed

19

r 'Q* C

•®®*

©:^

<a)\^

■S^

oOO

I®

Them that are with him shoot Arrows at those that come up to this Gate.

Gate, there is erected a strong Castle, of which Beelzebub is the Captain: from thence both he, and them that are with him shoot Arrows at those that come up to this Gate ; if haply they may die before they can enter in. Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the Man of the Gate asked him, Who directed him thither?

Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, (as I did ;) And he said, that you. Sir, would tell me what I must do.

Good Will. An open Door is set before thee, and no man can shut it,

Chr. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards.

Good Will. But hoti) is it that you came alone ?

Chr. Because none of my Neighbors saw their danger, as I saw mine.

Good Will. Did any of them knoti) of your coming ?

Chr. Yes, my Wife and Children saw me at the first, and called after me to turn again : Also some of my Neighbors stood crying, and calling after me to return ; but I put my Fingers in my Ears, and so came on my way. .^o

So, when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull.

Good Will. Bat did none of them follott) you, to persJi^ade you to go back ?

Chr. Yes, both Obstinate, and Pliable : But when they saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate went railing back ; but Pliable came with me a little way.

Good Will. But ti>hy did he not come through ?

Chr. We indeed came both together, until we came at the Slough of Dispond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my Neighbor Pliable discouraged, and would not adventure further. Wherefore getting out again, on that side next to his own House, he told me, I should possess the brave Country alone for him : So he went his way, and I came mine. He after Obstinate, and I to this Gate.

Good Will. Then said Good Will, Alas poor Man, is the Coelestial Glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazards of a few difficulties to obtain it.

Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable, and if I should also say the truth of myself, it will appear there is no betterment 'twixt him and myself. 'Tis true, he went back to his own house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being perswaded thereto by the carnal arguments of one Mr. Worldly - Wiseman.

Good Will. Oh, did he light upon you ? what, he would have had you a sought for ease at the hands of Mr. Legality; they are both of them a very cheat : But did you take his counsel ?

Chr. Yes, as far as I durst : I went to find out Mr. Legality, until I thought that the Mountain that stands by his house, would have fallen upon my head: wherefore there I was forced to stop.

Good Will. That Mountain has been the death of many, and will be the death of many more : 'tis well you escaped being by it dasht in pieces.

Chr. Why, truly I do not know what had become of me there, had not Evangelist happily met me again as I was musing in the midst of my dumps : but 'twas Gods mercy that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit indeed for death by that Mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord : But O, what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here.

m

VJm:^(-

•:i-.V.--

m

Good Will. We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they have done before they come hither, 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, Prophets, Christ, and his Apostles ; and it is as straight as a Rule can make it : This is the way Thou must go.

Chr. But said Christian, Is there no turnings nor ivindings by 'which a Stranger may lose the ivay ?

Good Will, Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this; and they are crooked, and wide : But thus thou may'st distinguish the right from the wrong. That only being straight and narrow.

Then I saw in my Dream, That Christian asked him further. If he could not help him off with his burden that was upon his back ; for as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor could he by any means get it off without help.

He told him ; As to thy burden, be content to bear it, until thou comest to the place of Deliverance ; for there it will fall from thy back itself.

Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address 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 Inter- preter; at whose Door he should knock; and he would shew him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his Friend, and he again bid him God speed.

Then he went on, till he came at 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 acquaintance of the Good-man of this House, to call here for my profit : I would there- fore speak with the Master of the House. So he called for the Master of the House; who after a little time came to Christian, and asked him what he would have ?

Chr. 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 Gate, at the head of this way. That if I

23

'''-^^

vC^

\5

(3

Bi	^p^gH^^	^	'M^l	i^	is? "^ fe K^
H	^^^^g	1		1
w	^^HH	1
^^H|j	P^^^^^P^KhM	P	9lAb^Sj^<	)mP
^P	^^^^^i	1	i^n	K'		11
!^^^	^Mmf^&m -flM*^	H	MnHna	7||B||		Ml
"^"^^^M	^l^^r '/v^ a!	P	ilinHil	n^
^s	^^^^^	1	^Bh	s		^1
te^^^	3^

The name of the eldest was Pdssion, and of the other 'Patience.

called here, you would shew me excellent things, such as would be an help to me in my Journey.

Inter. Then said the Interpre- ter, Come in, I will shew thee that which will be prof- itable to thee. So

he commanded his Man to light the Candle, and bid Christian follow him ; so he had him into a private Room, and bid his Man open a Door ; the which when he had done. Christian saw the Picture of a very grave Person hang up against the Wall, and this was the fashion of it. It had eyes lift up to Hea'ben, the best of Books in his hand, the Laiv of Truth ivas ivritten upon his lips, the World luas behind his back ; it stood as if it pleaded ivith cMen, and a Cro'wn of Gold did hang over his head,

Chr. Then said Christian, What means this ?

Inter. The Man whose Picture this is, is one of a thousand ; he can beget Children, travel in birth with Children, and nurse them him- self when they are born. And whereas thou seest him with his eyes lift up to Heaven, the best of Books in his hand, and the Law of Truth writ on his lips : it is to shew 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 shew thee that slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that he hath to his Masters service, 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 authorized to be thy Guide in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way : wherefore take good heed to what I

2-i

iTot

p^

e

iQ-3^

SI

t3\

'O-^

i~^^

have shewed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen ; lest in thy Journey thou meet with 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 very large Par- lour that was full of dust, because never swept ; the which, after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called for a man to siveep. Now when he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian had almost therewith been choaked. Then said the Interpreter to a Damsel that stood by. Bring hither the Water, and sprinkle the Room; which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure.

Chr, Then said Christian, What means this ?

Inter. The Interpreter answered; this Parlour is the heart of a Man that was never sanctified by the sweet Grace of the Gospel : the dust, is his Original Sin, and inward Corruptions that have defiled the whole Man. He that began to sweep at first is the Law ; but She that brought water, and did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. 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 that thou wast almost choaked therewith : this is to shew thee, that the Law, instead of cleansing 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, but doth not give power to subdue.

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 sub- dued, and the soul made clean, through the faith of it, and conse- quently 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 sate two little Children, each one in his Chair. The name of the eldest was Passion, and of the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much discontent, but Pa- tience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion ? The Interpreter answered. The Governor

25

J^

m

3

of them would have him stay for his best things till the beginning of 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.

Chr. Then said Qiristian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more fully to me.

Inter. So he said. These two Lads are Figures ; Passion, of the Men of this World; and Patience, of the Men of that which is to come. For as here thou seest. Passion ivill have all noiu, 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, c/1 Bird in the Hand is ivorth t<wo 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.

Chr. Then said Christian, No'w I see that Patience has the best Wisdom; and that upon many accounts, I. Because he stays for the best things. 2. And also because he ivill have the glory of his, 'when the other hath nothing but Rags.

Inter. 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 his 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 of Dives, In thy life- time thou receivedest thy good things, and likeivise Lazarus evil things ; But novi) he is comforted, and thou art tormented.

Chr, Then I perceive, 'tis not best to covet things that are now; but to ivait for things to come.

Inter. You say Truth ; For the things that are seen, are Tem-

26

»®<

o©'

m

f)<

'b:^^

5>/0

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.

mm.

' Z' ,

poral ; bat the things that are not seen, are Eternal. But though this be so ; yet since things present, and our fleshly appetite, are such near cHeighbors one to another ; 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 that distance is so continued 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 a Wall, and one standing by it always, 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 seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shaft also see the reason of that : So he had him about to the back side of the Wall, where he saw a Man with a Vessel of Oil in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast (but secretly,) into the fire. Then said Christian, What means this ? The Interpreter answered. This is Christ, who continually, with the Oil of his Grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart ; by the means of which, notwithstanding what the Devil can do, the souls of his People prove gracious still. 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 to see how this work of Grace is main- tained 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 walked, who were doathed all in Gold. Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up toward 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 Inkhorn before him, to take the Name of him that should enter therein : He saw also that in the doorway, stood many Men in Armor to keep it ; being resolved to do to the Man that would enter, what hurt and mis-

28

chief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in a maze : at last, when every Man started back for fear of the armed men ; Christian saw a Man of a very stout countenance come up to the Man that sat there to write ; saying, Set dcnvn 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 toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force ; but the Man, not at all discouraged, 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 shall 'win.

So he went in, and was doathed with such Garments as they. Then Christian smiled, and said, I think verily I know the meaning of this.

Now, said Chris- tian, let me go hence : Nay stay (said the Interpre- ter,) till I have shewed thee a little more, and after that thou shaft go on thy way. So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark Room, where there sat a Man in an Iron Cage.

Now the Man, to look on, seemed very sad: he sat

' There also sat a Man ... at a Table-side, with a Book and his Ink-

ing down to the hom before him, to take the Name of him that should enter therein.

be

u

c o

a

a

(4 <4

o

c2

<4

<4 O

a 1

G

'c3 6S

<4

C i<

,£!

o o

,ci o

ground, his hands folded together ; and he sighed as if he would break his heart. Then said Christian, What means this ? At which the In- terpreter bid him talk with the Man.

Chr. Then said Christian to the Man, What art thou } The Man answered, I am ivhat Iiuas not once.

Chr. What ivast thou once ?

Man. The Man said, I was once a fair and flourishing Professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others : I once was, as I thought, fair for the Coelestial City, 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 ; O now I cannot.

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 Devil, and he is come to me ; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me ; I have so hardened my heart, that I cannot repent.

Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hopes for such a Man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter.

Chr. 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 : There- fore I have shut myself out of all the Promises ; and there now remains to me nothing but threatnings, dreadful threatnings, faithful threatnings of certain Judgment, which shall devour me as an Adversary.

Inter. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ?

Man. For the Lusts, Pleasures, and Profits of this World ; in the en- joyment of which, I did then promise my self much delight ; but now every one of those things also bite me, and gnaw me like a burning worm.

Inter. But canst thou not now repent and turn ?

31

Gather my Wheat into the Gamer.

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 !

Inter. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this mans misery be remembred by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.

Chr. Well, said Christian, this is fearful ; God help me to watch and be sober ; and to pray, that I may shun the causes of this mans misery. Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now ?

Inter. Tarry till I shall shew 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 Cham- ber, 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 thundred and lightned 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 I heard a great sound of a Trumpet, 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 on 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, & the Dead that were therein, came forth; some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upward ; and some sought to hide themselves under the Mountains. Then I saw the Man that sat upon the Cloud, open the Book; and bid the World draw near. Yet there was by reason of a fierce flame that issued out and came from before him, a convenient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the Judge and the Prisoners at the Bar. I heard it also pro- claimed to them that attended on the Man that sat on the Cloud; Gather together the Tares, the Chaff, and Stubble, 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 an abundant manner Smoke, and Coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons ; Gather my Wheat into the Gamer. And with that I saw many catch'd up and carried away 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 into my mind, and my Conscience did accuse me on every side. Upon this I awaked from my sleep.

Chr. But ivhat ivas it that made you so afraid of this sight ?

Man. Why I thought the day of Judgement was come, and that I was not ready for it : but this frighted 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, shewing indig- nation in his countenance.

Gather together the Tares, the ChaK, and Stubble, and cast them into the burning Lake.

. A.., .■.■...,„... ■.■■.^■■■... ===^^

Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all these things ?

Chr. Yes, and they put me in hope and fear^

Inter. Well, keep all things so in thy mind, that they may be as a Goad in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his Journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the City.

So Christian went on his way, saying.

Here have I seen things rare and profitable ; Things pleasant, dreadful; things to make me stable In ivhat I have began to take in hand: Then let me think on them, and understand Wherefore they she<ived me ivas, 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 is called Salvation. Up this way therefore did burdened Christian run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.

He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending ; and upon that place stood a Cross, and a little below in the bottom, a Sepulchre. So I saw in my Dream, that just as Christian came up with the Cross, his burden 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 sorroiv ; and life, by his death. Then he stood still a while, to look and wonder ; for it was very sur- prising 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 waters down his cheeks. 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. The second, stript him of his Rags, and cloathed him with change of Raiment. The third also set a mark in his fore-

34

Behold three shiningf ones came to him, and saluted him, with Peace be to thee.

head, 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 Coelestial Gate ; so they went their way. Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on singing,

Thus far did I come loaden ivith my sin ; oA(br could ought ease the grief that I ivas in. Till I came hither : What a place is this I cMust here be the beginning of my bliss ? cMust here the burden fall from off my back ? cMust here the strings that bound it to me crack ? Blest Cross ! blest Sepulchre I blest rather be The cMan that there ivas put to shame for me.

I saw then in my Dream that he went on thus, even until he came at a bottom, where he saw, a little out of 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 see- ing them lie in this case, went to them, if peradventure 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 Gulf that hath no bottom. Awake therefore and come away ; be will- ing 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. With that they lookt upon him, and began to reply in this sort : Simple said, / see no danger ; Sloth said. Yet a little more sleep : and Presumption said. Every Fatt mast stand upon his oivn bottom. And so they lay down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way.

Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them ; both by awakening of them, counseling of them, and proffering to help them off with their Irons. And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied 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, So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered with them into discourse.

Chr. Gentlemen, Whence came you, and ivhither do you go }

Form, and Hyp, We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are going for praise to Mount Sion.

Chr. Why came you not in at the Gate which standeth at the be- ginning of the ivay ? Knoiv you not that it is "written, That he that Cometh not in by the door, but climbeth up some other 'way, the same is a thief and a robber }

Form, and Hyp. They said. That to go to the Gate for entrance, was by all their Countrymen counted too far about ; and that therefore their usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall as they had done.

Chr. But ivill it not be counted a Trespass against the Lord of the City whither ive are bound, thus to violate his revealed 'will ?

Form, and Hyp. They told him. That as for that, he needed not to trouble his head thereabout : for what they did, they had custom for ; and could produce, if need were. Testimony that would witness it, for more than a thousand years.

Chr. But, said Christian, wiill your practice stand a Trial at Ld'w?

Form, and Hyp. They told him. That Custom, it being of so long a standing, as above a thousand years, would doubtless now be ad- mitted as a thing legal, by an Impartial Judge. And besides, said 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

(

37

V

He espied two Men come tumbling over the Wall.

in at the Gate ; and we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall. Wherein now is thy condition better than ours ?

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 him but little answer; only they bid him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on every man in his way, with- out much conference one with another ; save that these two men told Christian, That, as to Laius 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 tro, given thee by some of thy Neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness.

Chr. By Laws and Ordinances, you will not be saved, since you came not in by the door. And as for this Coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the place whither I go ; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token of his 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 stript

38

me of my rags. I have moreover a mark in my forehead, of which perhaps you have taken no notice, which one of my Lords most inti- mate Associates, fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you moreover, that I had then given me a Roll sealed to comfort me by reading, as I go in the way; I was also bid to give it in at the Ccelestial 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 talk 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 was 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 right, at the bottom of the Hill : but the narrow way lay right up the Hill (and the name of the going up the side of the Hill, is called Difficulty.) Christian now went to the Spring and drank thereof to refresh him- self, and then began to go up the Hill ; saying.

This Hill, though high, I covet to ascend;

The difficulty will not me offend;

For I perceive the l^ay to life lies here ;

Come, pluck up. Heart ; lets neither faint nor fear :

Better, tho' difficult, th' right ivay to go.

Than ivrong, though easy, ivhere the end is ivo.

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 was 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 in those ways (now the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction.)

39

He fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and his knees,

because of the steepness of the place.

m

SE^

.Vi

So the one took the way which is called Danger, which led him into a great Wood ; and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide 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 per- ceived 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 about the midway to the top of the Hill, was a pleasant Arbor, made by the Lord of the Hill, for the refreshing of weary Travellers. Thither therefore Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him. Then he pull'd his Roll out of his bosom and read therein to his com- fort ; he also now began afresh to take a review of the Coat or Gar- ment 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 night, and in his sleep his Roll fell out of his hand. Now as he was sleeping, there came one to him, and awaked him saying. Go to the Ant, thou sluggard, con- sider her ivays and be 'wise. And with that Christian suddenly started 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 run- ning against him amain ; the name of the one was Timorous, and the name ^, , ., t-

1 he name oi the one was / tmorous, of the Other cMistrUSt, to other Mistrust.

41

'Ws.

'^\

mi

f

iW

and the name of the

lO^

M^

IP

3

K5\

so

whom Christian said. Sirs, what's the matter you run the wrong way ? 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, for just before us lie 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 to pieces.

CHR. Xhen said Christian, You make me afraid, but whither shall I fly to be safe ? If I go back to mine own Country, That is prepared for Fire and Brimstone ; and I shall certainly perish there. If I can get to the Coelestial City, I am sure to be in safety there. I must ven- ture. 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 Hill; and Christian went on his way. But thinking again of what he heard from the men, he felt in' his bosom for his Roll, that he might read therein and be comforted ; but he felt and found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do, for he wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his Pass into the Ccelestial City. Here therefore he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do ; at last he bethought himself that he had slept in the Arbor that is on the side of the Hill: and falling down upon his knees, he asked God forgiveness for that his foolish Fact ; and then went back to look for his Roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christians heart ? somtimes he sighed, som- times he wept, and often times he chid himself, for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place which was erected only for a little refreshment from 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 his Roll, that had been his comfort so many times in his Journey. He went thus till he came again within sight of the Arbor, where he sat and slept ; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bring- ing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind. Thus there- fore he now went on bewailing his sinful sleep, saying, O ivretched cMan that I am, that I should sleep in the day-time ! that I should sleep

(9^

n

He at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost night,

and in his sleep his Roll fell out of his hand.

He espied his Roll; the which he with trembling and haste catch'd up, and put it into his bosom.

in the midst of difficulty ! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest fcr ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the Hill hath erected only for the relief of the spir- its of Pilgrims ! How many steps have I took in vain! (Thus it hap- pened to Israel for their sin, they were sent back again 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 sin-

ful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod but once: Yea now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent. O that I had not slept ! Now by this time he was come to the cArbor again, where for awhile he sat down and wept, but at last (as Christian would have it) looking sor- rowfully down under the Settle, there he espied his Roll ; the which he with trembling and haste catch'd up, and put it into his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this Man was, when he had gotten his Roll again ! For this Roll was the assurance of his life and acceptance at the desired Haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his Journey. But Oh how nim- bly 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 condole with himself : Oh thou sinful sleep I hoHV for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my Journey ! I must ivalk 'without the Sun,

■J4

Sll:

darkness must cover the path of my feet, and I must hear the noise of doleful Creatures, because of my sinful sleep ! Now also he remem- bered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of the Lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These Beasts range in the night for their prey, and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift them ? how should I escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way, but while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately Palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful, and it stood just 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 narrow passage, which was about a furlong off of the Porter's Lodge, and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two Lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The Lions were chained, but he saw not the Chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them, for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the Porter at the Lodge, whose Name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, 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 dis- covery of those that have none : keep in the midst of the Path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.

Then I saw that he

«

.CI

c o

1^

Ji.Vy — il

TSM

went on, trembling for fear of the Lions ; but taking good heed to the directions of the Porter ; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapt 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 an- swered, 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 of Destruction, and am going to Mount Zion, but because the Sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge 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 oijaphet, whom God will perswade to dwell in the Tents of Shem.

PoR. But hoiv 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 ! I slept in the Arbor that stands on the Hill side ; nay, I had notwithstand- ing that, been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evi- dence, 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 I slept my sleep, where I found it, and now I am come.

PoR. Well, I will call out one of the Virgins of this place, who will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the Family, according to the Rules of 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 beau- tiful Damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called.

The Porter answered, This Man is in a Journey from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion, but being weary, 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 he was going, and he told her. She asked him also, how he got into 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 last, she asked his name, so he

/i-.'Xv.'

i(„.-:;;.-/

«.0WI5 ffHtAo.

This Man is in a Journey from the City of Destruction to Mount Zion.

i

■FTiT-i'l:-.

I

*■.•"•

said, It is Christian ; and I have so much the more a desire to lodge here tonight, because, by what I perceive, 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 dis- course with him, had him in to the Family; and many of them meet- ing 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 come in, and set 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 iPoe have been so loving to you, to receive you into our House this night ; let us, if perhaps ive may better ourselves thereby, talk ivith 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 Pilgrims life ?

Chr. I was driven out of my Native Country, by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears, to wit, That unavoidable destruction did at- tend me, if I abode in that place where I was.

Pi. ButhoJbdid it happen that you

^ ,f , V So when he was come in, and set down, they gave him something

Country thts way? ,„ drink.

49

	^HH^n	B	ami	MMIMiiiiWIlin
ffl	UBHH
	j[|^^	H	1	roH
	j^lllllll	^	■	^^3
vmH	wwlmbt^Jr ^jdl/BlB^^^^BStA	E	P	^^R
Kr ^	1^3 ^^BflHiffl^M	^m	1	^
sncim^M^^^HH^^H
	-,r^i'-r-- ■ •'•■U ";:■'-	A

•.*••■ :vK'

..•^•■•«

•\V

^1

Mi

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 Evangelist, 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. Bat did you not come by the House of the Interpreter ?

Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will stick by me as long as I live ; specially three things, to ivit. 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 Gods mercy; and also the Dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of Judg- ment 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 ake as he was telling of it ; but yet I am glad I heard it.

Pi. Was that ail that you saiu at the House of the Interpreter ?

Chr. No, he took me and had me where he shewed 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 stayed at that good Mans house a twelve- month, but that I knew I had further to go.

Pi. And ivhat saiv you else in the ivay ?

Chr. Saw! Why I went but a little further, and I saw one, as I thought in my mind, hang bleeding upon the Tree ; and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back (for I groaned under a heavy burden) but then it fell down from off me. 'Twas 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 ; another stript me of my rags, and gave me this broidered 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 saiv more than this, did you not ?

50

/

Chr. The things that I have told you were the best : yet some other matters I saw, 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 Formalist and Hypocrisy come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Sion, 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 mouth; and truly if it had not been for the good Man, the Porter that stands at the Gate, I do not know but that, after all, I might have gone back again : but now I thank God I am here, and I thank you for receiving of me.

Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and de- sired his answer to them.

Pru. Do you not think sometimes of the Country from 'whence you come}

Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation ; Truly, if I had been mindful of that Country from whence I came out, I might have had opportunity to have returned, but noJi) I desire a better Country, that is, an Heavenly.

Pru. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you 'were conversant inithal}

Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially my inward and carnal cogitations ; with which all my Country-men, as well as my- self, were delighted; but now all those things are my grief: and might I but chuse mine own things, I would chuse never to think of those things more ; but when I would be doing of that which is best, that which is worst is with me.

Pru. Do you not find sometimes, as if those things were van- quished, which at other times are your perplexity ?

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, when I think what I saw at the Cross, that will do it ; and when I look upon my broidercd Coat, that will do it ; also when I look into the Roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it ; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

51

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 like best. For to tell you 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 Charity to Christian, Hal>e you a family} are you a mar- ried man ?

Chr. I have a Wife and four small Children.

Cha. And ivhy did you not bring them along with you ?

Chr. Then Christian wept, and said. Oh how willingly would I have done it, but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on Pilgrimage.

Cha. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to have sh^ii>en them the danger of being behind.

Chr. So I did, and told them also what God had shewed to me of the destruction of our City ; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and they believed me not.

Cha. And did you pray to God that he tt>ould 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.

Cha. But did you tell them of your oivn sorroJi), and fear of de- struction ? for I suppose that destruction ivas visible enough to you?

Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in my countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the apprehension of the Judgment that did hang over our heads ; but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me.

Cha. But ivhat could they say for themselves ivhy 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.

Cha. But did you not 'iifith your vain life, damp all that you by ivords used by ivay of persivasion to bring them aivay yt>ith you ?

mMc

The name of the Chamber was Peace.

Chr. Indeed I cannot commend my life ; for I am conscious to my- self of many fail- ings : therein, I know also that a man by his con- versation, may soon overthrow what by argument or perswasion he doth labour to fasten upon others

for their good : Yet, this I can say, I was very wary of giving them occasion, by any unseemly action, to make them averse to going on Pil- grimage. Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me I was too pre- cise, and that I denied myself of sins (for their sakes) in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think I may say, that, if what they saw in me did hinder them, it was my great tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my Neighbor.

Cha. Indeed, Cain hated his Brother, because his own ti)orks 'were Mt, and his Brother's righteous; and if thy Wife and Children ha1>e been offended ivith thee for this, they thereby she^w themsell>es to be implacable to good; and thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood.

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 furnished with fat things, and with Wine that was well refined ; 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 builded that House: and by what they said, I 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 as 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 of pure love to his Country. And besides, there were some of them of the Household that said they had seen and

53

mm

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 Pil- grims, that the like is not to be found from the East to the West.

They moreover gave an instance of what they affirmed, and that was, He had stript 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 Mountain of Zion alone. They said moreover, That he had made many Pilgrims Princes, though by nature they were Beg- gars born, and their original had been the Dunghil.

Thus they discoursed together till late at night, and after they had committed themselves to their Lord for Protection, they betook them- selves to rest. The Pilgrim they laid in a large upper Chamber, whose window opened towards the Sunrising; the name of the Cham- ber was Peace, where he slept till break of day; and then he awoke and sang.

Where am I noiv ! is this the io'be and care Of Jesus for the men that Pilgrims are I Thus to provide I That I should he forgit^en ! And dwell already the next door to Heaven I

So in the Morning they all got up, and after some more discourse, they told him that he should not depart, till they had shewed him the Rarities of that place. And first they had him into the Study, where they shewed him Records of the greatest Antiquity; in which, as I remember my Dream, they shewed him first the Pedigree of the Lord of the Hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient of Days, and came by an eternal Generation. Here also was more fully recorded the Acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his service ; and how he had placed them in such Habitations that could neither by length of Days, nor decays 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 subdued Kingdoms, wrought Righteousness, obtained Promises, 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,

54

6jte

<-^.^ ^•|<l

irt'C

where it was shewed how willing their Lord was to receive into his favour any, even any, though they in time past had offered great affronts to his Person and proceedings. Here also were several other Histories of many other famous things, of all which Christian had a view. As of things both Ancient and Modern; together with Prophecies and Predictions of things that have their certain accom- plishment, both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the com- fort 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 pro- vided 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 shewed him some of the Engines with which some of his Servants had done wonderful things. They shewed him Moses's Rod, the Hammer and Nail with which Jael slew Sisera, the Pitchers, Trumpets, and Lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the Armies of Midian, Then they shewed him the Ox's goad wherewith Shangar slew six hundred men. They shewed him also the Jaw bone with which Samson did such mighty feats ; they shewed him moreover the Sling and Stone with which 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 shewed 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 for- wards, but they desired him to stay till the next day also, and then said they, we will, (if the day be dear,) shew you the delectable Mountains, which they said, would yet further add to his comfort, because they were nearer the desired Haven than the place where at present he was. So he consented and staid. When the Morning 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 delectable to be- hold. Then he asked the name of the Country, they said it was Immanuels

."iO

; m

T^J.

5i"\i

Land ; and it is as com- mon, said they, as this Hill is, to and for all the Pil- grims. And when thou comest there, from thence, said they, thou mayest see to the Gate of the Ccelestial City, as the Shepherds that live there will make appear.

Now he bethought him- self 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 there- fore thus accoutred walketh out with his friends to the Gate, and there he asked the Porter if he saw any Pilgrims pass by. Then the Porter answered. Yes.

Chr. Pray did you know him ? said he.

PoR. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful.

Chr. O, said Christian, I know him, he is my Townsman, my near Neighbor, he comes from the place where I was born : how far do you think he may be before ?

PoR. He is got by this time below the Hill.

Chr. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add to all thy blessings much increase, for the kindness that thou hast shewed to me.

Then he began to go forward, but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and

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.

They harnessed him from head to foot with what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the way.

Prudence, would accompany him down to the foot of the Hill. So they went on together, reiterating their former discourses till they came to go down the Hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so (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 too.

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 of Raisins; and then he went on his way.

But now in this Valley of Humiliation poor Christian was hard put to it, for he had gone but a little way before he espied a foul Fiend coming over the field to meet him ; his name is Apollyon. Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back, or to stand his ground. But he considered again, that he had no Armor for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to him might give him greater advantage 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, 'twould be the best way to stand.

So he went on, and c/lpollyon met him. Now the Monster was hideous to behold, he was cloathed 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 be- held him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him.

Apol. Whence come you, and ti)hither 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.

Apol, 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. Hoiv is it then that thou hast ran aivay from thy King ? Were it not that I hope

59

y^

thou mayest do me more se/hice, I ivould strike thee noiv at one blow to the ground.

Chr. I was born indeed in your Dominions, but your service was hard, and your wages such as a man could not live on, for the ivages of Sin is death ; therefore when I was come to years, I did as other considerate persons do, look out if perhaps I might mend my self.

Apol. There is no Prince that 7t>ill thus lightly lose his Subjects, neither ivill I as yet lose thee. But since thou complainest of thy service and 'ivages be content to go back ; <what our Country ivill afford, I do here promise to give thee.

Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the King of Princes, and how can I with fairness go back with thee ?

Apol. Thou hast done in this, according to the Prol^erb, changed a bad for a ivorse : but it is ordinary for those that ha'be professed themselves his Serl^ants, after a ivhile to gi'be him the slip, and return again to me : do thou so to, and all shall be ivell.

Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my Allegiance to him; how then can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a Traitor ?

Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am ivilling to pass by all, if now thou 'ibilt yet 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 I stand, is able to absolve me ; yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee : and besides, (O thou destroying Apollyon) to speak truth, I like his Service, his Wages, his Servants, his Government, his Com- pany, and Country better than thine: and therefore leave off to per- swade me further, I am his Servant, and I will follow him.

Apol. Consider again -when thou art in cool blood, Uyhat thou art like to meet ivith in the ivay that thou goest. Thou knoivest that for the most part, his Servants come to an ill end, because they are trans- gressors against me, and my 'ways. Hoiv many of them have been put to shameful deaths! and besides, thou countest his service better than mine, "whereas he never came yet from the place ivhere he is, to deliver any that served him out of our hands ; but as for me, hoiv many times, as all the World very ivell knoivs, have I delivered, either by poiver or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his, though taken by them, and so I ivill deliver thee.

Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them, is on purpose to try

0©'

I®.

I®

I®

60

.©

'm

(S),

^.

'©0

®:

®^

their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end : and as for the ill end thou sayest they come to, that 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 Angels.

Apol. Thou fidst already been unfaithful in thy service to him, and how doest thou think to receive "wages of him ?

Chr. Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him ?

Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, luhen thou wast almost choked in the Gulf of Dispond ; thou didst attempt wrong ivays to be rid of thy burden, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off: thou didst sinfully sleep and lose thy choice thing: thou wast also almost perswaded logo back, at the sight of the Lions; and ivhen thou talkest of thy Journey, and of what thou hast heard, and seen, thou art iniuardly desirous of Ifain-glory in all that thou sayest or doest.

Chr. All this is true, and much more, which thou hast left out ; but the Prince whom I serve and honour, is merciful, and ready to forgive: but besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy Country, for there I suckt them in, and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince.

Apol. Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an Enemy to this Prince : I hate his Person, his LaTbs, and People : 1 am come out on purpose to Ji^ithstand 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.

Apol. 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 shaft go no further, here will I spill thy soul ; and with that, he threw a flaming Dart at his breast, but Christian had a Shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. Then did Christian draw, for he saw 'twas time to bestir him ; and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing Darts as thick as Hail ; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded him in his head, his hand and foot ; this made Christian give a little back : c4pollyon therefore followed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore com-

01

bat lasted for 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 espying his opportunity, began to gather 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 noiv ; and with that, he had almost prest him to death, so that Christian began to despair of life. But as God would have it, while Apollyon was fetching of his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good Man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his Sword, and caught it, saying. Rejoice not against me, O mine Enemy I 'when I fall, I shall arise; and with that, gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back, as one that had re- ceived his mortal wound: Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things lue are more than Conquerors, through him that loved us. And with that, Apollyon spread forth his Dragon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian saw him no more.

In this Combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard as I did, what yelling, and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight, he spake like a Dragon : and on the other side, what sighs and groans brast 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 'twas the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.

So when the Battle was over. Christian said, I will here give thanks to him that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the Lion ; to him that did help me against c4pollyon : and so he did, saying.

Great Beelzebub, the. Captain of this Fiend, Design 'd my ruin ; therefore to this end He sent him harnest out, and he ivith rage That Hellish ivas, did fiercely me engage : But blessed Michael helped me, and I By dint of Sit^ord, did quickly make him fly : Therefore to him let me give lasting praise. And thank and bless his holy name alivays.

Rejoice not against me, O mine Enemy ! when I fall, I shall arise.

3)

Then there came to him an hand, with some of the leaves of the Tree of Life.

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 was healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to eat Bread, and to drink of the Bottle that was given him a little before; so being refreshed, he addressed 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 c4pollyon, quite through this Valley.

Now at the end of this Valley, was another, called the Valley of the Shddoiv of Dea.th, and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the Coelestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this Valley is a very solitary place. The Prophet Jeremiah thus describes it, <A Wilderness, a Land of Desarts, and of Pits, a Land of Drought, and of the shadoiv of death, a Land that no man (but a Christian) passeth through, and ivhere no man dwelt.

Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with c/lpollyon, as by the sequel you shall see.

I saw then in my Dream, that when Christian was got to the

0-4

mm

m^

m

^ifif

m

^j^^-fii

Borders of the Shadow of Death, there met him two Men, Children of them that brought up an evil report of the good Land, making haste to go back : to whom Christian spake as follows,

Chr. Whither are you going ?

Men. They said. Back, back ; and we would have you to do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you.

Chr. Why? ivhat's the matter ? saic/ Christian.

Men. Matter ! said they ; we were going that way as you are going, and went as far as we durst; and indeed we were almost past [ coming back, for had we gone a little further, we had not been here to bring the news to thee.

Chr. Bat <what have you met ivith, said Christian ?

Men. Why we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but that by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to it.

Chr, But 'what have you seen, 5af(/ Christian ?

Men. Seen ! why the Val- ley itself, which is as dark as pitch ; we also saw there the Hobgoblins, Satyrs, and Drag- ons of the Pit : we heard also in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a People under unutterable mis- ery, who there sat bound in affliction and Irons : and over that Valley hangs the dis- couraging Clouds of confu- ca^^^i^^ewr-.,r-c^^-. -im^^sm^-a a sion; death also doth always

"-^^d

-5^== ^^ji,^'. — ^^

--.\ ■

'<ii V

X .^-»

A

^'^^^i

They said. Back, back.

^^

65

) *:'»:*"is'#<:

:v'.iV;-.'.'..

spread his wings over it: in a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without Order.

Chr. Then said Christian, / perceive not yet, by ivhat you have said, but that this is my tt>ay to the desired Haven.

Men. Be it thy way, we will not chuse 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 deep Ditch ; that Ditch is it into which the blind have 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 can find no bottom for his foot to stand on. Into that Quag King David once did fait, and had no doubt therein been smothered, had not He that is able, pluckt him out.

The path-way was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it ; for when 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 dangers men- tioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes when he lift up his foot to set forward, he knew not where, or upon what he should set it next.

About the midst of this Valley, I perceived the mouth of Hell to be, and it stood also hard by the wayside : Now thought Christian, what shall I do ? And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for Christians Sword, as did Apollyon before) that he was forced to put up his Sword, and betake himself to another weapon called c/lll- Prayer, so he cried in my hearing, O Lord I beseech thee 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 rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn in 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

66

11

',■•"}■:

'/V^/'W

About the midst of this Valley, I perceived the mouth of Hell to be.

company of Fiends coming forward to meet him, tie 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 remembred also how he had already vanquished many a danger : and that the danger of going back might be much more than for to go forward ; so he resolved to go on. Yet the Fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer ; but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, / 'will 'walk in the strength of the Lord God ; so they gave back, and came no further.

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 grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had pro- ceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than any- thing that he met with before, even to think that he should now blas- pheme him that he loved so much before; yet could he have helped it, he would not have done it : but he had not the discretion neither to stop his ears, nor to know from whence those blasphemies 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 shado'w of death, I 'will fear none 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 attends this place, I cannot perceive it.

Thirdly, For that he hoped (could he overtake them) to have com- pany 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 shadoiv of death into the morning.

Now morning being come, he looked back, not 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 lay betwixt them both ; also now he saw the Hobgoblins, and Satyrs, and Dragons of the Pit, but all afar off ; for after break of day, they came not nigh ; yet they were discovered to him, according to that which is written. He discol^creth deep things oat of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadoiv of death.

Now was Christian much affected with 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 Christian : for you must

d

69

I espied a little before me a Cave, where two Giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt.

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 more dangerous : for from the place where he now stood, even to the end of the Valley, the way was all along 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 now 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 Valley. 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 for- merly : And while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied 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 brushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy, and stiff in his joints, that he can now 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, specially because he spake to him, though he could not go after him ; saying. You ivill never mend, till more of you be burned: but he held his peace, and set a good face on't, and so went by, and catcht no hurt. Then sang Christian,

O 'world of ivonders ! (I can say no less) That I should be preserv'd in that distress That I have met ivith here ! O blessed be That hand that from it hath delivered me! Dangers in darkness, Devils, Hell, and Sin, Did compass me, while I this Vale was in :

71

0

He suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again, until Faithful came up to help him.

Yea, Snares, and Pits, and Traps, and Nets did lie My path about, that ivorthless silly I Might have been catch' t, intangled, and cast down : But since I live, let Jesus wear the Crown.

Now as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was cast up on purpose that Pilgrims might see before them : up there therefore Christian went, and looking forward he saw Faithful before him, upon his Journey. Then said Christian aloud. Ho, ho, So-ho ; stay and I will be your Companion. At that Faithful looked behind him, to whom Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up to you. But Faithful answered. 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 overrun 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;

_,

>fc

^

,e,

\'/i.

u -^i

>^i

(o^t

l-si^

t^d

and had sweet discourse of all things that had happened to them in their Pilgrimage ; and thus Christian began.

Chr. ^y honoured and ivell beloved Brother Faithful, I am glad that I ha'be overtaken you ; and that God has so tempered our spirits, that ive can ivalk as Companions in this so pleasant a path.

Faith. 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. Hoiv long did you stay in the City of Destruction, before you set out after me on your Pilgrimage ?

Faith. Till I could stay no longer ; for there was great talk pres- ently after you was gone out, that our City would in short time with Fire from Heaven be burned down to the ground.

Chr. What! Did your Neighbors talk so ?

Faith. Yes, 'twas for a while in every body's mouth.

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, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you, and of your desperate Journey, (for so they call this your Pilgrimage) but I did believe, and do still, that the end of our City will be with Fire and Brimstone from above t and therefore I have made mine escape.

Chr. Did you hear no talk of S^ighbor Pliable ?

Faith. Yes Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came at the Slough of Dispond, where, as some said, he fell in ; but he would not be known to have so done : but I am sure he was soundly bedab- bled with that kind of dirt.

Chr. And ivhat said the Neighbors to him ?

Faith. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of People : some do mock and despise him, and scarce will any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the City.

Chr. But ivhy should they be so set against him, since they also despise the ivay that he forsook ?

Faith. O, they say, Hang him, he is a Turn-Coat, he was not

^^i

R^

JJi

o^.

s

'Gv,

c-C

10

^

I met with one whose name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief.

true to his profession. I think God has stirred up even his Enemies to hiss at him, and make him a Proverb, because he hath forsaken the way.

Chr. Had you no talk 'with him before you came out ?

Faith. I met him once in the Streets, but he leered away on the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done ; so I spake not to him.

Chr. Welt, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that Man ; but noJij I fear he ivill perish in the overthroiv of the City, for it is hap- pened to him, according to the true Proverb, The Dog is turned to his Vomit again, and the Soiu that ivas 'washed to her 'wallo'wing in the mire.

Faith. They are my fears of him too. But who can hinder that which will be ?

Chr. Well Neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him; and talk of things that more immediately concern ourselves. Tell me ncnv, 'ti>hat you have met 'with in the 'way as you came; for I kno'w you have met tiyith some things, or else it may be 'writ for a 'wonder.

Faith. I escaped the Slough that I perceive you fell into, and got

74

'"^^^

'S^

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. 'Tivas ivelt you escaped her Net; Joseph J^as hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did, but it had like to ha'be cost him his life. But 'what did she do to you ?

Faith. You cannot think (but that you know something) 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 promise you the content of a good conscience.

Faith. You know what I mean, all carnal and fleshly content.

Chr. Thank God you have escaped her : The abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her Ditch.

Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her, or no.

Chr. Why, I tro you did not consent to her desires ?

Faith. No, not to defile myself ; for I remembered an old writing that I had seen, which saith, Her steps take hold of hell. 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 ivith 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 ivas, and whither bound ? I told him. That I was a Pilgrim, going to the Ccelestial City. Then said the Old Man, Thou lookest like an honest fellcnv ; Wilt thou be content to divell zuith me, for the 'wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt ? He said his name was Adam the first, and I d'well in the Tcnvn of Deceit. I asked him then, What was his work ? and what the wages that he would give ? He told me. That his work was many delights ; and his 'wages, that I should he his Heir at last. I further asked him. What House he kept, and what other Servants he had ? So he told me, That his House lifas maintained Tbith all the dainties in the 'world, and that his Servants 'were those of his o'wn begetting. Then I asked, if he had any chil- dren ? He said that he had but three Daughters, The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life; and that I should marry them all, if I would. Then I asked, how long time he would have me 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}

75

ml

^^M

Faith. Why, at first, I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the Man, for I thought he spake very fair ; But looking in his forehead as I talked with him, I saw there written. Put off the oldcMan with his deeds.

Chr. And hoiv then ?

Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he got me home to his House, he would sell me for a Slave. So I bid 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 after me, that should make my way bitter to my Soul. So I turned to go away from him : but just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pull'd part of me after himself. This made me cry, O 'wretched Man I So I went on my way up the Hill.

Now when I had got about half way 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.

Chr. Just there, said Christian, did I sit do'ii>n to rest me; but, being overcome l^ith sleep, I there lost this 'J^ll oat of my bosom.

Faith. But good Brother hear me out : So soon as the Man over- took me, he was but a word and a blow : for down he knockt me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore he served me so ? he said, Because of my secret inclining to Adam the first; and with that, he strook me another deadly blow on the breast, and beat me down backward, so I lay at his foot as dead as before. So when I came to myself again, I cried him mercy ; but he said, I know not how to show mercy, and with that knockt me down again. He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by, and bid him forbear.

Chr. Who zuas that, that bid him forbear ?

Faith. I did not know him at first, but as he went by, I perceived the holes in his hands, and his side ; then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the Hill.

Chr. That Man that overtook you, ivas Moses. He spareth none, neither knoweth he hoiv to shew mercy to those that transgress his Laiv.

mM

pgi

to

-M

Just as I turned myself to go thence, I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he had pull'd part of me after himself.

Faith. I know it very well, it was not the first time that he has met with me. 'Twas 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 not you see the House that stood there on the top of that Hill, on the side of ivhich 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 before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the Hill.

Chr, He told me indeed that he saiv you go by ; but I wish you had called at the House ; for they would have shewed you so many Rarities, that you would scarce ha'be forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me. Did you meet nobody in the Valley o/" Humility ?

Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have perswaded me to go back again with him : his reason was, for that

77

^^

rrwi

CM"

the Valley was altogether without Honour. He told me moreover, that there to go was the way to disobey all my Friends, as Pride, c/lrrogancy. 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 Valley.

Chr. Well, and hozu did you ansiver him ?

Faith. I told him, That although all these that he named might claim kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my Rela- tions, according to the flesh) yet since I became a Pilgrim, they have disowned me, as I also have rejected them ; and therefore they were 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 quite mis-represented the thing : for before Honour is Humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall. Therefore said I, I had rather go through this Valley to the Honour that was so accounted by the wisest, than chuse that which he esteemed most worth our affections.

Chr. ^et 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 little argumentation, (and somewhat else) but this boldfaced Shame, would never have done.

Chr. Why, Ji^hat did he say to you ?

Faith. What ! why he objected against Religion itself ; he said it was a pitiful low sneaking business for a Man to mind Religion ; he said that a tender conscience was an unmanly thing, and that for a Man to watch over his words and ways, so as to tye up himself from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the times accustom them- selves unto, would make me the Ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few of the Mighty, Rich, or Wise, were ever of my opinion ; nor any of them, neither, before they were perswaded to be Fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all, for no body else knoivs luhat. He moreover objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the Pilgrims of the times in which 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 relate ; as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a Sermon, and a shame to come

i

A,

«

sighing and groaning home. That it was a shame to ask my Neigh- bor forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I had taken from any. He said also that Religion made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices (which he called by finer names) and made him own and respect the base, because of the same Religious Fraternity. And is not this, said he, a shame ?

Chr. c4ndivhat did you say to him ?

Faith. Say ! I could not tell what to say at the first. Yea, he put me so to it, that my blood came up in my face, even this Shame fetch'd it up, and had almost beat me quite off. But at last I began to con- sider. That that ti>hich is highly esteemed among Men, is had in abom- ination 'with God. And I thought again. This Shame tells me what men are, but it tells me nothing what God, or the Word of God is. And I thought moreover, 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 and Law of the Highest. Therefore thought I, what God says is best, is best, though all the Men in the world are against it. Seeing then, that God prefers his Religion, see- ing God prefers a 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 greatest Man in the world that hates him ; Shame depart, thou art an Enemy to my Salvation : shall I entertain thee against my Soveraign Lord ? How then shall I look him in the face at his coming ? Should I now be ashamed of his Ways and Servants, how can I expect the blessing ? But indeed this Shame was a bold Villain ; I could scarce shake him out of my com- pany ; yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the infirmities that attend Religion : but at last I told him, 'Twas 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 ivithal. That are obedient to the Heavenly call. Are manifold, and suited to the flesh. And come, and come, and come again afresh ;

80

A-«

II

That nolU), or sometime else, ive by them may Be taken, overcome, and cast aivay. O let the Pilgrims, let the Pilgrims then. Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men.

Chr. / am glad, my Brother, that thou didst ivithstand this Vil- lain so bral>ely ; for of all, as thou sayst, I think he has the wrong name : for he is so bold as to folloiv us in the Streets, and to attempt to pat us to shame before all men ; that is, to make us ashamed of that ivhich is good: but if he ivas not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does, but let us still resist him : for notivith- standing all his Bravadoes, 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 nobody else in that Valley ?

Faith. No, not I, for I had Sunshine all the rest of the way, through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

Chr. ' Tivas 'well for you, I am sure it fared far otherwise "Ufith me. I had for a long season, as soon almost as I entred into that Valley, a dreadful Combat with that foul Fiend cApollyon : yea, I thought verily he would have killed me ; especially when he got me down, and crusht me under him, as if he would have crusht me to pieces. For as he threw me, my Sword flew out of my hand ; nay he told me He zuas sure of me : but / cried to God, and he heard me, and delilyered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Val- ley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it. I thought I should have been killed there, over, and over. But at last day brake, 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 besides them, (for in this place, there was room enough for them all to walk). He was a tall cMan, and something more comely at a distance than at hand. To this Man Faithful addressed himself in this manner.

81

*5

11

Faith. Friend, Whither away ? c/lre you going to the Heavenly Country ?

Talk. I am going to that same place.

Faith, That is Ti^ell; then I hope we may have your good Company.

Talk. With a very good will will I be your Companion.

Faith, Come on then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time in discoursing of things that are profitable.

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 chuse much rather to be speaking of things to no profit, and this hath been a trouble to me.

Faith. That is indeed a thing to be lamented; for what things so TDorthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on Earth, as are the things of the God of Hea'hen ?

Talk. I like you wonderful well, for your saying is full of convic- tion ; and I will add. What thing so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God ?

What things so pleasant ? (that is, if a man hath any delight in things that are wonderful) for instance, if a man doth delight to talk of the History or Mystery of things, or if a man doth love to talk of Miracles, Wonders, or Signs, where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the holy Scripture ?

Faith, That^s true : but to be profited by such things in our talk should be that ivhich ive 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, as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of things above: (thus in general) but more particularly, by this a man may learn the necessity of the New-birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christs righteousness, etc. Besides, by this a man may learn by talk, what it is to repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the like : by this also a Man may learn what are the great promises and consolations of the Gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a Man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant.

82

\

f

\

Faith. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you.

Talk. Alas ! the want of 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 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 this I know very veil, for a man can receive 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.

Faith. Well, then, said Faithful, ivhat is that one thing, that ive 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 Prophane; things past, or things to come; things foreign, or things at home; things more Essential, or things Circumstantial; provided that all be done to our profit.

Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and stepping to Chris- tian, (for he walked all this while by himself,) he said to him, (but softly) What a Brave Companion have ivegotJ Surely this man ti>ill make a very excellent Pilgrim.

Chr. 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 that know him not.

Faith. Do you knoiv 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 ivhereabout doth he divell ?

Chr. He is the son of one Sayivell, he dwelt in Prating-roiv ; and he is known of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating-roiv : and notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.

Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.

83

Chr. That is, to them that have not thorough acquaintance 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 work of the Painter, whose Pictures shew best at a distance ; but very near, more unpleasing.

Faith, But 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 noiv 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 conversa- tion ; all he hath, lieth in his tongue, and his Religion is to make a noise therewith.

Faith. Say you so I Than am I in this man greatly deceived,

Chr. Deceived ! you may be sure of it. Remember the Proverb, They say and do not ; but the Kingdom of God is not in ivord, 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 home and abroad ; and I know what I say of him is the truth. His house is as empty of Re- ligion, as the ivhite of an Egg is of sa1>our. 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; it can hardly have a good word 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 'tis better to deal with a Turk then with him, for fairer dealing they shall have at their hands. This Talkative, if it be possible, will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides, he brings up his Sons to follow his steps ; and if he findeth in any of them a foolish timorousness (for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience) he calls them fools

85

»r3^

W^

^ ■^-jy ')

and blockheads ; 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 caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if God prevent not, the ruin of many more.

Faith. Welt, my Brother, I am bound to believe you ; not only because you say you know htm, but also because like a Christian, you make your reports of men. For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill ivill, but because it is efben so as you say.

Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him as at the first you did. Yea, had he received this re- port at their hands only that are enemies to Religion, I should have thought it had been a slander : (a Lot that often falls from bad mens mouths upon good mens Names and Professions:) But all these things, 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 Brother nor Friend; the very naming of him among them, makes them blush, if they know him.

Faith. Well, I see that Saying and Doing are tivo things, and hereafter I shall better observe this distinction.

Chr. They are fiDo things indeed, and are as diverse as are the Soul and the Body : for as the Body without the Soul, is but a dead Carcass ; so. Saying, if it be alone, is but a dead Carcass also. The Soul of Religion is the practick part : Pure Religion and undefiled, be- fore God and the Father, is this. To visit the Fatherless and Widows 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 Christian, and thus he deceiveth his own Soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the Seed ; talking is not sufficient to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life ; and let us assure our- selves, that at the day of Doom men shall be judged according to their fruits. It will not be said then. Did you belie'be } but, were you Doers, or Talkers only ? 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 anything can be accepted that is not of Faith ; but I speak this to show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day.

86

C/3

cr

O p.

P

s

C/3 S

2 3

:? J*

►j»TJ

?i- o

P* "Tl
n	p
■<!
D	f^
o	^
13*	HH
n	D
•<	Ok
W*	w
3
O	00
cr	Sf
o	(%
^

0^ £1,

2 c

ft) c

S" p

a r>

p

3

c s

PI p (rt

o

3

p

'%^'

Kit.

..-MZP

fS-o

fb'i

t^

.Qy

Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by ti)hich he describ- eth the beast that is clean. He is such an one that parteth the Hoof, and chetveth the Cud: not that parteth the Hoof only, or that cheweth the Cud only. The Hare che'ii>eth the Cud, but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the Hoof. And this truly resembleth Talkative; he che^ueth the Cud, he seeketh kncnvledge, he che<xveth upon the Word, but he dil^ideth not the Hoof, he parteth not <with the ivay of sinners ; but as the Hare, retaineth the foot of a Dog, or Bear, and therefore he is unclean.

Chr. You have spoken, for ought I know, the true Gospel sense of those Texts, and I will add another thing. Paul calleth some men, yea and those great Talkers too, sounding Brass, and Tinkling Cymbals ; that is, as he expounds them in another place. Things "ivithout life, giving sound. Things without life, that 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 Chil- dren of life : Though their sound, by their talk, be as if it were the Tongue or voice of an Angel.

Faith. Well, I ivas not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick of it noiv. What shall <ive do to 6e 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 hal^e me to do }

Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the po'ii)er 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 Conversation.

Faith. Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative: Come, l^hat chear ? hoti) is it now ?

Talk. Thank you. Well. I thought we should have had a great deal of Talk by this time.

Faith. Well, if you will, 7i>e will fall to it noTb; and since you left it with me to state the question, let it be this: How doth the saving grace of God discover itself, ivhen it is in the heart of man ?

Talk. I perceive then that our talk must be about the power of

,m,^

roj

^1

J:?

i'^'

#1*1

^

c^

things; Well, 'tis a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you. And take my answer in brief thus. First, Where the Grace of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly,

Faith. Nay hold, let as consider of one at once . I think you should rather say. It shoivs itself by inclining the Soul to abhor its sin.

Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhoring of sin ?

Faith. Oh! a great deal; a man may cry out against sin, of policy ; but he cannot abhor it, but by vertue of a Godly antipathy against it: I have heard many cry out against sin in the Pulpit, ivho yet can abide it ivell enough in the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph's Mistris cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy; but she TDoald ivillingly, notwithstanding that, have com- mitted uncleanness with him. Some cry out against sin, even as the Mother cries out against her Child in her lap, when she calleth it Slut and naughty Girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.

Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

Faith. No not I, lam only for setting things right. But what is the second thing whereby you would 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 mys- teries of the Gospel, and yet no work of grace in the Soul : Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so consequently be no child of God. When Christ said. Do you know all these things? and the Disciples had answered. Yes : He addeth. Blessed are ye, if ye do them. He doth 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 Masters will, and doth it not. A man may know like an Angel, and yet be no Christian; therefore your sign is not true. Indeed to know, is a thing that pleaseth Talkers and Boasters ; but to do, is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good Tbithout knowledge, for Jbithout that the heart is naught. There is therefore knowledge and knowledge. Knowledge that resteth

89

1

¥,

in the bare speculation of things, and knoivledge that is accompanied 7t>ith the grace of faith and love, ivhich puts a man upon doing even the ivill of God from the heart: the first of these ivill serve the Talker, but ivithout the other the true Christian is not content. Give mc un- derstanding, and I shall keep thy Law, yea I shall observe it with my whole heart.

Talk. You lie at the catch again, this is not for edification.

Faith, Well, if you please, propound another sign hoiv this ivork of grace discovereth itself ivhere it is.

Talk. Not I, for I see we shall not agree.

Faith. Well, if you ivill not, ivill you give me leave to do it ?

Talk. You may use your liberty.

Faith. A ivork of grace in the soul discovereth itself, 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 ti}hich he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand by faith in Jesus Christ.) This sight and sense of things ivorketh in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he findeth moreover repealed in him the Saviour of the World, and the absolute necessity of closing ivith him for life, at the 'ti>hich he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him, to ivhich hungerings, etc. the promise is made. Noiv ac- cording to the strength or weakness of his Faith in his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to knoiv him more, and also to ser'he him 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 ivork of Grace, because his corruptions now, and his abused reason, makes his mind to mis-judge in this matter; therefore in him that hath this work, there is required a very sound Judgement, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of Grace.

To others it is thus discovered.

J . By an experimental confession of his Faith in Christ. 2. By a life answerable to that confession, to wit, a life of holiness ; heart- holiness, family-holiness, {if he hath a Family) and by Conversation- holiness in the World: which in the general teacheth him, inwardly to abhor his Sin, and himself for that in secret, to suppress it in his

90

Family, and to promote holiness in the World; not by talk only, as an Hypocrite or Talkative Person may do : but by a practical Subjec- tion in Faith, and Lol^e, to the polPt}er of the iPbord. And no'w Sir, as to this brief description of the ivork of Grace, and also the disco'bery of it, if you ha'be ought to object, object; if not, then give me lealje to propound to you a second 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 the first part of this description of it ? and doth your life and conversation testify the same? or stand- eth your Religion in Word or in Tongue, and not in Deed and Truth} pray, if you incline to ansiver me in this, say no more than you kncnv the God above ivill say Amen to ; and also, nothing but what your Conscience can justify you in : For, not he that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth. Besides, to say lam thus, and thus, when my Conversation, and all my Neighbors tell me I lye, is great "wickedness.

Talk. Then Talkative at first began to blush, but recovering him- self. Thus he replyed, You come now to Experience, 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 give an answer to such questions, because, I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a Catechiser ; and, though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my Judge. But I pray will you tell me, why you ask me such questions ?

Faith. Because I saiv you forward to talk, and because I kne^u not that you had ought else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the Truth, I have heard of you, that you are a Man ivhose Religion lies in talk, and that your Conversation gives this your Mouth- profession the lye. They say You are a spot among Christians, and that Religion fareth the -worse for your ungodly conversations that some already have stumbled at your ivicked ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby ; your Religion, and an Ale-House, and Covet- ousness, and uncleanness, and sivearing, and lying, and vain Company- keeping, etc. ivill stand together. The proverb is true of you, ivhich is said of a Whore, to wit. That she is a shame to all Women ; so you are a shame to all Professors.

91

/km

Cm

N^

■:i}■::i:i:^}:::.^y:t:^;^yi^^^

•'•I'-i:

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 melancholy Man, not fit to be discoursed with, and so adieu.

Chr. Then came up Chris- tian, and said to his Brother, I told you how it would hap- pen, your words and his lusts could not agree ; he had rather leave your company, than re- form his life. But he has 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 con- tinuing, as I suppose he will do, as he is, he would have been but a blot in our Com- pany; besides, the Apostle says, From such lutthdraiv thyself. Faith. But I am glad Ji^e had this little discourse ivith him, it may happen that he ivill think of it again ; hoivever, I hal^e dealt plainly ivith 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 in the nostrils of many, as it doth : for they are these Talkative Fools, whose Religion is only in word, and are debauched and vain in their Conversation, that (being so much admitted into the Fellowship of the Godly) do stumble the World, blemish Christianity, and grieve the Sincere. I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done, then should they either be made more conformable to Religion, or the company of Saints would be too hot for them.

And so adieu.

..1.1., 1. LI

rTTTTT^T^^

:•t;;;■v';^•■•;:•v^■^■•■•^^••:^;v•:;^:•:.•\^^

•.■■■■..•.■■•■.•:■••••■- l^^^V/;:^^i^■■■^V■V■^^^'■\\S^g:==si^Ca/^V:^^ ^v;/.v;;:;\.:{-.v/////;;;;v;v.v:;:S;.V;;.;:

ifou* Talkative zd first lifts up his Plumes ! Hoiv bravely doth he speak I hoiv he presumes To dn'be doHvn all before him ! but so soon As Faithful talks o/" Heart-work, like the Moon That's past the full, into the ivane he goes And so ivill all, but he that Heart- work knows.

Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made that way easy, which would otherwise, no doubt, have been tedious to them : for now they went through a Wilderness.

Now when they were got almost quite out of this Wilderness, Faith- ful chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming after them, and he knew him. Oh ! said Faithful to his Brother, who comes yonder? Then Christian looked, and said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faithful; for 'twas he that set me the way to the Gate. Now was Evangelist come up unto them, and thus saluted them.

EvANG. Peace be with you, dearly beloved, and, peace be to your helpers.

Chr. Welcome, ^welcome, my good Evangelist, the sight of thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy ancient kindness, and unl^earied laboring for my eternal good.

Faith. And, a thousand times ivelcome, said good Faithful ; Thy company, Os^veet Evangelist, hoiu desirable is it to us, poor Pilgrims I

EvANG. Then, said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, my friends, since the time of our last parting ? ivhat have you met with, and ho'w have you behaved yourselves ?

Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had hap- pened to them in the way ; and hoiv, and with ivhat difficulty they had arrived to that place.

EvANG. Right glad am I, said Evangelist ; not that you met with trials, but that you have been victors, and for that you have (notwith- standing many weaknesses,) continued in the way to this very day.

I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and yours ; I have sowed, and you have reaped, and the day is coming, when both he that sowed, and they that reaped shall rejoice together ; that is, if you hold out : for, in due time ye shall reap, if you faint not.

93

p^^*7

Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation.

The Crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one ; so run that you may obtain it. Some there be that set out for this Crown, and after they have gone far for it, another comes in, and takes it from them ? hold fast therefore that you have, let no man take your Crown. You are not yet out of the gun-shot of the Devil. You have not re- sisted unto blood, striving against sin. Let the Kingdom be always before you, and believe stedfastly concerning things that are invisible. Let nothing that is on this side the other world get within you ; and above all, look well to your own hearts, and to the lusts thereof ; for they are deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked : set your faces like a flint, you have all power in Heaven and Earth on your side.

Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation, but told him ivithal, that they luould have him speak farther to them for their help, the rest of the ivay ; and the rather, for that they ivell knew that he ivas a Prophet, and could tell them of things that might hap- pen unto them ; and also hoiv they might resist and overcome them. To ivhich request Faithful also consented. So Evangelist began as follov/eth.

EvANG. My Sons, you have heard in the words of the truth of the Gospel, that you must through many tribulations enter into the King- dom of Heaven. And again, that in every City, bonds and afflictions abide in you; and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long on your Pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. You

9-1

^

have found something of the truth of these testimonies upon you already, and more will immediately follow : for now, as you see, you are almost out of this Wilderness, and 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 unnatural, and his pain perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow ; not only because he will be arrived at the Coelestial City soonest, but because he will escape 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 your selves like 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, and the name of that Town is Vanity ; and at the town there is a Fair kept, called Vanity-Fair. It is kept all the Year long : it beareth the name of Vanity-Fair, because the Town where 'tis kept, is lighter than Vanity ; and also, because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is Vanity. As is the saying of the wise, cAll that cometh is Vanity.

This Fair is no new erected business, but a thing of ancient standing; I will shew you the original of it.

Almost five thousand years agone, there were Pilgrims walking to the Cozlestial City, as these two honest persons are ; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with their Companions, perceiving by the path that the Pilgrims made, that their way to the City lay through this Toivn of Vanity, they contrived here to set up a Fair ; a Fair wherein should be sold of 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, King- doms, Lusts, Pleasures and Delights of all sorts, as Whores, Bawds, Wives, Husbands, Children, Masters, Servants, Lives, Blood, Bodies, Souls, Silver, Gold, Pearls, Precious Stones, and what not.

The name of that Town is Vanity ; and at the Town there is a Fair kept, called Vanity-Fair.

And moreover, at this Fair there is at all times to be seen Jugglings, Cheats, Games, Plays, 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 colour.

And as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several Rows and Streets, under their proper names, where such and such Wares are vended : So here likewise, you have the proper Places, Rows, Streets, {viz. Countreys and Kingdoms,) 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 other fairs, some one Commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the Ware of Rome and her Merchandize is greatly promoted in this fair: Only our English Nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat.

Now, as I said, the way to the Coelestial City lies just through this Tcnvn, where this lusty 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 Toivn to his own Country, and that upon a Fair-day too : 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, because he was such a person of Honour, Beelzebub had him from Street to Street, and shewed 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 Merchan- dize, and therefore left the Toivn, 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 entred into the fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the Town it self as it were in a Hubbub about them ; and that for several reasons : For,

First, The Pilgrims were cloathed 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. Some

/

lr>V''n

said they were Fools, some they were Bedlams, and some they are Outlandish-men.

Secondly, And as they wondred at their Apparel, so they did like- wise at their Speech, for few could understand what they said ; they naturally spoke the Language 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, they seemed Barbarians each to the other.

Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the Merchandisers, 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 aivay mine eyes from beholding van- ity; and look upwards, signi- fying that their Trade and Traffic was in Heaven.

One chanced mockingly, be- holding the car- riages of the men, to say un- to them, What will ye buy ?

&

^

w.

fj

All the people in the fair were moved, and the Town it self as it were ^' ^^'^~

in a Hubbub about them. ing gravely

98

upon him, said, We buy the Truth. At that, there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more ; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last things came to an hubbub and great stir in the fair, in so much that all order was confounded. Now was word presently brought to the Great One of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take these men into examination, about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were brought to examina- tion; 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 ye- rusalem; and that they had given none occasion to the men of the Town, nor yet to the Merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their Journey. Except it

asked them 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. There therefore they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any mans sport, or malice, or 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 contrarywise blessing, and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing, and less 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 angry manner let fly at them again, counting them

as bad as the men in the Cage,

iriaiiKii9miii'."ri''ii«niiiiKfi

._...!.-_

•"X

Therefore they put them into the Cage, that they might be made a Spectacle to all the men of the fair.

100

and telling them that they seemed confederates, and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. The other replied. That for ought they could see, the men were quiet, and sober, and intended no- body any harm ; and that there were many that traded in their fair, that were more worthy to be put into the Cage, yea, and Pillory too, than were the men that they Jiad abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides, (the men behav- ing themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them,) they fell to some Blows, and did harm one to another. Then were these two poor men brought before their Examiners again, and there charged as

mm

0SI^

y-i

1

So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down the fair.

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 up and down the fair, for an example and a terror to others, lest any should further speak in their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much meekness and patience, that it won to their side (though but few in comparison of the rest) several of the men in the fair. This put the other party yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatned that the 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 remanded to the Cage again until further order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the Stocks.

Here also they called again to mind what they had heard from their faithful friend Ebangelist, and was the more confirmed in their way and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to them. They also now comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, that even he should have the best on't ; therefore each man secretly wished that he might have that preferment ; but committing themselves to the All-wise dispose of him that ruleth all things, with much content they

©.^-•o

d^

'®^

>;o9^

abode in the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of.

Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their Tryal in order to their Qjndemnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their Enemies and arraigned; the Judge's name was Lord Hate-good, Their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form; the Contents whereof was this.

That they ivere enemies to, and disturbers of their Trade ; that they had made Commotions and Divisions in the To'wn, and had ivon a party to their oJirn most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the Laiv of their Prince,

Then Faithful began to answer, That he had only set himself 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, were won by be- holding our 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 ought to say for their Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three Witnesses, to "vvit. Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were then asked, If 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 honourable Bench, That he is

Judge. Hold, give him his Oath ;

So they sware him. Then he said. My Lord, This man, notwith- standing his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our Country ; he neither regardeth Prince nor People, Law nor Custom : but doth all that he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the general calls Principles of Faith and Holiness. And in particular, I heard him once myself affirm. That Christianity and the Customs of our Toivn of Vanity, 'were Diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled. By which saying, my Lord, he doth

L®.

102

m

0 ^

Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank,

at once, not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them.

Judge. Then did the Judge say to him, Hast thou any more to say ?

Envy. My Lord I could say much more, only I would not be tedi- ous to the Court. Yet if need be, when the other Gentlemen have given in their Evidence, rather than anything shall be wanting that '(i)S will dispatch him, I will enlarge my Testimony against him. So he ,(| was bid stand by. Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the Prisoner ; they also asked. What he could say for their Lord the King against him ? Then they sware him, so he began.

Super. My Lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have 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 Toiun ; for then talking with him, I heard him say. That our Religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means please God : which sayings of his, my Lord, your Lordship very well knows, what necessarily thence will follow, to ivit, That we still do worship 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, in behalf of their Lord the King against the Prisoner at the Bar.

103

^^1^^

'»

Pick. My Lord, and you gentlemen all, This fellow I have knowii of a long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoke. For he hath railed on our noble Prince Beelzebub, and hath spoke contemptibly of his honourable Friends, whose names are the Lord Oldman, the Lord Carnal-delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of Vainglory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our Nobility ; and he hath said moreover, that if all men were of his 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 appointed to be his Judge, calling you an ungodly Villain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the Gentry of our Town.

When this Pickthank had told his tale, the Judge directed his speech to the Prisoner at the Bar, saying. Thou Runagate, Heretick, and Traitor, hast thou heard what these honest Gentlemen have witnessed against thee?

Faith. cMay L speak a fetv 'words in my o'itin defence?

Judge. Sirrah, Sirrah, thou de- servest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately upon the place; yet that all men may see our gentle- ness towards thee, let us see what thou hast to say.

Faith. I . I say then in answer to what Mr. Enl^y hath spoken, I never said ought but this. That ivhat Rule, or Laivs, or Custom, or Peo- ple, ivere 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.

101

The Lord Luxurious.

^^^^s^^^^

^^SWM

^m

2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I said only this, That in the ivorship of God there is required a di- vine Faith ; but there can he no divine Faith -without a divine Revela- tion of the 'will of God: therefore ivhatever is thrust into theli^orship of God, that is not agreeable to divine Revelation, cannot be done but by an human Faith ; ivhich Faith ivill not be profit to Eternal life.

3. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, I say, (avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like) That the Prince of this Town, with all the Rabblement his Attendants, by this Gentleman named, are more fit for a 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 of the Jury, you see this man about whom so great an uproar hath been made in this Town: you have also heard what these 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 into our Law.

There was an Act made in the days 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 into the River. There was also an Act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar

The Lord Carnal-delight. 105

^

r^^^

He deserveth to die the death.

the Great, another of his Servants, that whoever would not fall down and worship his golden Image, should be thrown into a fiery Furnace. 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' Den. 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 therefore needs be intolerable.

For that of Pharaoh, his Law was made upon a supposition, to pre- vent mischief, no Crime being yet apparent ; but here is a Crime ap- parent. For the second and third, you see he disputeth against our Religion ; and for the Treason 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-last, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Lyar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable, who every one gave in his private Verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the Judge. And first Mr. Blind-man the Fore- man, said, I see clearly that this man is an Heretick. Then said Mr. No-good, Aivay ivith such a fellow from the Earth. Ay, said Mr. Malice, for I hate thet>ery 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 Scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a l^gue, said Mr. Lyar, Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Lets dispatch him out of the ti)ay, said Mr. Hate-light. Then said Mr. Implacable, cMight I have all the World given me, I could not be reconciled to him, thtrefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death ; And so they did, therefore he was presently condemned. To be had from the place where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented.

They therefore brought him out, to do with him according 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 prickt him with their Swords, and last of all they burned him to

107

^

Ashes at the Stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. Now, I saw- that there stood behind the multitude, a Chariot and a couple of Horses, waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries had dispatched him) was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up through the Clouds, with sound of Trumpet, the nearest way to the Coelcstial Gate. But as for Christian, he had some respit, and was remanded back to prison, so he there remained for a space. But he that over- rules all things, having the power of their rage in his own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way.

And as he went he sang, saying.

Well, Faitliful, thou hast faithfully profest Unto thy Lord : ivith ivhom thou shalt be blest f When Faithless ones, ivith all their vain delights, c/lre crying out under their hellish plights. Sing, Faitliful, 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 alone, for there was one whose name was Hopeful, (being made so by the be- holding of Christian and Faithful in their words and behaviour, in their sufferings at the fair) who joyned himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he would be his Companion. Thus one died to make Testimony to the Truth, and another rises out of his Ashes to be a Companion with Christian. 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 over- took one that was going before them, whose name was By-ends ; so they said to him, What Country-man, Sir? and how far go you this way? He told them. That he came from the Town of Fair- speech, and he was going to the Ccelestial City, (but told them not his name.)

From Fair-speech, said Christian ; is there any that be good live there }

By-ends. Yes, said By-ends, I hope.

Chr. Pray Sir, ivhat may I call you ?

108

By-ends. I am a Stranger to you, and you to me ; if you be going this way, I shall be glad of your Company ; if not, I must be content.

Chr. This ToJVn of Fair-speech, / have heard of it, and, as I remember, they say it's a Wealthy place.

By-ends. Yes, I will assure you that it is, and I have very many rich Kindred there.

Chr. Pray, tfho are your Kindred there, if a man may be so bold?

By-ends. Almost the whole Town; and in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-seiner, my Lord Fair-speech, (from whose Ancestors that Town first took its name :) Also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-bothivays, Mr. Any-thing, and the Parson of our Parish, Mr. T'wo-tongues, was my Mother's own Brother by Father's side : And, to tell you the Truth, I am 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-ends. Yes, and my Wife is a very vertuous Woman, the Daugh- ter of a vertuous Woman. She was my Lady Fainings Daughter, therefore she came of a very Honourable Family, and is arrived at such a pitch of Breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to Prince and Peasant. 'Tis true, we somewhat differ in Religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in two small points : First, we never strive against Wind and Tide. Secondly, we are always most zealous when Religion goes in his Silver Slippers ; we love much to walk with him in the Street, if the Sun shines, and the people applaud it.

Then Christian stept a little a to-side to his fellow Hopeful, saying. It runs in my mind 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 ; methinks 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-ends. That is not my name, but indeed it is a Nickname that is given me by some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to

I

110

I.I..1 11

r;^":«^

And last of all they burned him to Ashes at the Stake. Thus came Faithful to his end.

r«l

bear it as a reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me.

Chr. But did you never gilje an occasion to men to call you by this name ?

By-ends. 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 re- proach.

There was one whose name was Hopeful, who ^HR. / tflOUgflt indeed,

joyned himself unto him. that you ivas the man that

I had heard of, and to tell you <what Ithink, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are ivilling ive should think it doth.

By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it. You shall find me a fair Company-keeper, if you will still admit me your associate.

Chr. If you ivill go ivith us, you must go against Wind and Tide, the ivhich, I percei'be, is against your opinion : You must also own Religion in his Rags, as l^ell as ivhen in his Silver Slippers, and stand by him too, ivhen bound in Irons, as ivell as ivhen he ivalketh the Streets ivith applause.

By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my Faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you.

Chr. Not a step further, unless you 'Vt)ill do in Ji)hat I propound, as ive.

112

/

:l

Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old Principles, since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I did before you overtook me, even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my Company.

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful, forsook 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. cMony-love, and Mr. Save-all; men that Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with; for in their minority they were schoolfellow, and were taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a School-master in Love- gain, which is a market town in the County of Coveting in the North. This School-mas- ter taught them the art of get- ting, either by violence, cous- enage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of Religion; and these four Gentlemen 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. Mony-love said to Mr. By- ends. Who are they upon the Road before us ? For Christian and Hopeful were yet within view.

By-ends. They are a couple of far country-men, that after their mode, are going on Pil- grimage.

Mony-love. Alas, why did they not stay that we n'dght

They overtook one that was going before them,

whose name was By-ends. U3

rrrs

15

^0^^-^

I

^t

%

have had their good company, for they, and ive, and you Sir, I hope, are all going on Pilgrimage.

By-ENDS. We are so indeed, but the men before us are so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the Opinions 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-all. That'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 ivhat and honx) many, were the things wherein you differed.

By-ends. Why they after their headstrong manner, conclude that it is duty to rush on their Journey all 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 my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men are against them ; but I am for Religion in what, and so far as the times, and my safety will bear it. They are for Religion, when in rags, and contempt ; but I am for him when he walks in his golden slippers in the Sun-shine, and with applause.

HoLD-THE- World. Ay, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends, for, for my part, I can count him but a fool, that having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as Serpents, 'tis best to make hay when the Sun shines ; you see how the Bee lieth still all winter and bestirs her then only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes Rain, and sometimes Sun- shine ; if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be con- tent to take fair weather along with us. For my part I like that Religion 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 Religion. And Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust. But he must not be such as the men before us, if they be as you have described them.

Save-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and there-

114

PG^

e^

^i

t3\

:C

fore there needs no more words about it.

MoNY-LOVE. No, there needs no more words about this matter indeed, for he that believes neither Scripture nor reason (and you see we have both on our side) neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own safety.

By-ends. My Brethren, we are, as you see, going all on Pilgrimage, and for our bet- ter diversion from things that arc bad, give me leave to propound unto you this ques- tion.

Suppose a man, a Minister, or a Tradesman, &c, should have an advantage lie before him to get the good blessings of this life. Yet so, as that he can by no means come by them, except, in appearance at least, he becomes extraordi- nary Zealous in some points of Religion, that he meddled not Jijith be- fore, may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest man ?

MoNY-LOVE. I see the bottom of your question, and with these Gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavour to shape you an answer. And 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 in his eye a greater, more fat, and plump by far ; he has also ncnv an opportunity of getting of it ; yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more frequently and zealously, and because the temper of the people requires it, by altering of some of his principles ;

115

Mr. Mony-Iove.

^-^(

^<S

;^

^fL		^m	3k\Vv	^^^j/C-
		^iK	^>s^	F^04
	III vofti.	y^vi^-^^i
vJai		|ig

''►>

SN*

.*

>y.

lo« o •!

for my part 1 see no reason but a. man may do this (provided he has a call,) ay, and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. For why,

J. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful (this cannot be contra- dicted) since 'tis set before him by providence ; so then, he may get it if he can, making no question for conscience sake.

2. Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a more zealous preacher, &c. and so makes him a better man. Yea makes him better improve his parts, which is according to the mind of God.

3. Now as for his complying with the temper of his people, by dis- senting, to serve them, some of his principles, this argueth, I. That he is of a self-denying temper. 2. Of a sweet and winning deportment. 3. And so more fit for the Ministerial function.

4. I conclude then, that a Minister that changes a small for a great, should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous, but rather, since he is improved in his parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that pursues his call, and the opportunity put into his hand to do good.

And now to the second part of the question which concerns the Tradesman you mentioned: suppose such an one to have but a poor imploy in the world, but by becoming Religious, he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more and far better customers to his shop. For my part I see no reason but that this may be lawfully done. For why,

1. To become religious is a vertue, by what means soever a man becomes so.

2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to my shop.

3. Besides the man that gets these by becoming religious, gets that which is good, of them that are good, by becoming good him- self; so then here is a good wife, and good customers, and good gain, and all these by becoming religious, which is good. Therefore to be- come religious to get all these is a good and profitable design.

This answer, thus made by this Mr. cMony-love to Mr. By-ends question, was highly applauded by them all ; wherefore they concluded upon the whole, that it was most wholsome and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man was able to contradict it, and because

^^

no

^/

Christian and Hopeful was yet within call, they joyntly agreed to assault them with the question as soon as they overtook them, and the rather because they had opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they called ^^ after them, and they stopt, and stood still till they came up to them ; but they concluded as they went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old Mr. Hold-the-Ji>orld should propound the question to them, because, as they supposed, their answer to him would be without the remainder of that heat that was kindled betwixt Mr. By-ends and them, at their parting a little before.

So they came up to each other and after a short salutation, Mr. Hold-the- World propounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they could.

Chr. Then said Christian, even a babe in Religion may answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, Job. 6. How much more abominable is it to make of him and religion a stalking horse to get and enjoy the world. Nor do we find any other than Heathens, Hypo- ^^.^^^^^^^^ crites. Devils and Witches that are ^^^^to/V^ of this opinion. " '

\. Heathens, for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind to the Daughter and Cattle oi Jacob, and saw that there was no ways for them to come at them, but by be- coming circumcised, they say to their companions ; K 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 Daughter and their Cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their Re- ligion the stalking horse they made use of to come at them. Read the whole story. Gen. 34. 20, 2 J, 22, 23.

2. The Hypocritical Pharisees Mr.Save-aK.

117

M.

«/^

^^

were also of this Religion, long prayers were their pretence, but to get widows' houses were their intent, and greater damnation was from God their Judgment, Lake 20. 46, 47.

3. Judas the Devil was also of this Religion, he was religious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was therein ; but he was lost, cast away, and the very Son of perdition.

4. Simon the witch was of this Religion too, for he would have had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith, and his sentence from Peter's mouth was according, Acts 8. J 9, 20, 21, 22.

5. Neither will it out of my mind, but that that man that takes up Religion for the world, will throw away Religion for the world; for so surely 3iS Judas designed 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 I perceive you have done, and to accept of as authentick such answer, is both Heathenish, Hypocriti- cal 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 soundness of Chris- tian 's answer, so there was a great silence among them. Mr. By- ends and his company also staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful 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 ? & if they are mute when dealt with by ves- sels of clay, what will they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire ?

Then Christian and Hopeful out-went them, and went till they came at a delicate Plain, called Ease, where they went with much con- tent ; but that plain was but narroiv, 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-cMine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see ; but going too near the brink of the pit, the ground being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain ; some also had been maimed 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, over against the

A little off the road, over against the Silver-Mine, stood Demas.

Silver-cMine, stood Demas (Gentleman-\ikc,) to call to Passengers to come and see : who said to Christian and his Fellow ; Ho, turn aside hither, and I will shew you a thing.

Chr. What thing so deserving, as to turn us out of the ivay ?

De. Here is a Silver-o^me, and some digging in it for Treasure ; if you will come, with a little pains, you may richly provide for yourselves.

Hope. Then said Hopeful, Let us go see.

Chr. Not I, said Christian ; I have heard of this place before now, and how many have there been slain ; and besides, that Treasure is a snare to those that seek it, for it hindreth them in their Pilgrimage. Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous ? hath it not hindred many in their Pilgrimage ?

De. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless: but withal, he Blushed as he spake.

Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still keep on our way.

119

^^

ift

b

Hope. / will ivarrant you, ivhen By-ends comes up, if he hath the same inl^itation as Ji^e, he ivill turn in thither to see.

Chr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that way, and a hundred to one but he dies there.

De. Then Demas called again, saying. But will you not come over and see?

Chr. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, Thou art an Enemy to the right ways of the Lord in 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 like con- demnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof; and will there put us to shame, where we would stand with boldness before him.

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.

Chr. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? is it not the same by the which I have called thee ?

De. Yes, my name is Demas, I am the son of Abraham,

Chr. I know you, Gehazi was your Great-Grandfather, and Judas your Father, and you have trod their steps. It is but a devilish prank that thou usest. Thy Father was hanged for a Traitor, and thou de- servest no better reward. Assure thyself, that when we come to the King, we will do him word of this thy behaviour. Thus they went their way.

By this time By-ends and his companions was come again within sight, and they at the first beck went over 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 bot- tom, by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not cer- tain: But this I observed, that they were never seen again in the way. Then sang Christian,

By-ends and Silver-Dcmas both agree; One calls, the other runs, that he may be, A sharer in his Lucre : so these two Take up in this World, and no further go,

120

\ ^-

Now I saw, that just on the other side of this Plain, the Pilgrims came to a place where stood an old cMonument, hard by the High-way-side, at the sight of which they were both concerned, because of the strange- ness of 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 espied written above 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, and after a little laying of 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 that 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 amazing sight, gave them occasion of this dis- course.

Chr. Ah my brother, this is a seasonable sight, it came oppor- tunely to us after the invitatian which Demas gave us to come over to view the Hill Lucre : and had we gone over as he desired us, and as thou wast inclining to do (my Brother) we had, for ought I know, been made ourselves 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 wherein was the difference 'twixt her sin and mine. She only looked back, and I had a desire to go sec. 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 Judgment ; for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom, yet she was destroyed by another ; as we see, she is turned into a Pillar of Salt.

Hope. True, and she may be to us both Caution and Example; Caution that we should shun her sin, or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented by this caution. So Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men, that per- ished in their sin, did also become a sign, or example to others to be- ware. But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his

(

121

16

They both concluded that that was the Pillar of Salt into which Lot's Wife was turned for looking back with a covetous heart.

.9.

^^€

wm

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; specially since the Judgment which overtook her, did make her an ex- ample, within sight of where they are : for they cannot chuse but see her, did they but lift up their eyes.

Chr. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their heart is grown desperate in the case ; and I cannot tell who 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 'itfere sinners exceedingly, because they were sinners before the Lord; that is, in his eyesight; and notwithstanding the kindnesses that he had shewed 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 con- cluded, that such, even such as these are, that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such examples that are set continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of severest Judgments.

Hope. 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 ministreth 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 Ril>er of the ivater of life. Now their way lay just upon the bank of the River : here therefore Christian and his Companion walked with great delight. They drank also of the water of the River, which was pleasant and enlivening to their weary Spirits : besides, on the banks of this River on either side were green Trees, that bore all manner of Fruit; and the leaves of the Trees were good for Medicine; with the Fruit of these Trees they were also much delighted ; and the leaves they eat to prevent Surfeits, and other Diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by Travels. On either side of the River was also a Meadow, curiously beautified with Lilies; and it was green all the year long. In this Meadow they lay down and slept, for here they

might lie doivn safely. When they awoke, they gathered again of the Fruit 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 :

Behold ye hcnu these Crystal streams do glide

(To comfort Pilgrims) by the Highivay side;

The Meadolifs green, besides their fragrant smell.

Yield dainties for them : And he that can tell

What pleasant Fruit, yea Leaves, these Trees do yield,

Will soon sell all, that he may buy this Field.

So when they were disposed to go on (for they were not, as yet, at their Journey's end) they eat and drank, and departed.

, Now I beheld in my Dream, that they had not journied far, but the River and the way, for a time, parted. At which they were not a little sorry, yet they durst not go out of the way. Now the way from the River was rough, and their feet tender by reason of their Travels : So the soul of the Pilgrims iVas much discouraged, because of the luay. Wherefore still as they went on, they wished for better way. Now a little before them, there was on the left hand of the Road, a cMeadoiv, and a Stile to go over into it, and that Meadow is called By-Path- Meadcnv. Then said Christian to his fellow, If this Meadow lieth along by our way side, lets go over into it. Then he went to the Stile to see, and behold a Path lay along by the way on the other side of the fence. 'Tis according to my wish said Christian, here is the easiest going ; come good Hopeful, and let us go over.

Hope. But hoiv if this Path should lead us out of the ivay ?

Chr. That's not like, said the other ; look, doth it not go along by the way side ? So Hopeful, being perswaded by his fellow, went af- ter him over the Stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the Path, they found it very easy for their feet ; and withal, they looking before them, espied a Man walking as they did, (and his name was Vain confidence) so they called after him, and asked him whither that way led ? he said. To the Coelestial Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so ? by this you may see we are right. So they fol- lowed, and he went before them. But behold the night came on, and

124

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.

it grew very dark, so that they that were behind lost the sight of him that went before.

He therefore that went before ( Vain confidence by name) not see- ing the way before him, fell into a deep Pit, which was on purpose there made by the Prince of those grounds to catch >am glorious fools withal and was dashed to pieces with his fall.

Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall. So they called, to know the matter, but there was none to answer, only the3> heard a groaning. Then said Hopeful, Where are we now? Then was his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way. And now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten in a very dreadful manner, and the water rose amain.

Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, Oh that I had kept on my 'way I

Chr. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of the way ? Hope. / vjas afraid on't at very first, and therefore gave you that gentle cau- tion. I "would have spoke plainer, hut that you are older than I.

Chr. Good Brother be not offended, I am sorry I have brought thee out of the way, and that I have put thee into such eminent danger; pray my Brother forgive me, I did not do it of an evil in- tent.

Hope. Be comforted my

Brother for I forgive thee ;

and believe too, that this

shall be for our good.

Chr. I am glad I have with

And his name was Vain confidence.

126

m

me a merciful Brother. But we must not stand thus; let's try to go back again.

Hope. Bat good Brother let me go before.

Chr. No, if you please, let me go first ; that if there be any dan- ger, I may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the way.

Hope. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first, for your mind being troubled, may lead you out of the Ji>ay again. Then for their encour- agement, they heard the voice of one saying. Let thine heart he tovjards the High-ivay, even the ivay that thou wentest, turn again. But by this time the Waters were greatly risen, by reaspn of which, the way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is 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 again to the Stile that night. Wherefore, at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there till the day brake ; but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was not far from the place where they lay, a Castle, called Doubting-Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds they now were sleeping; wherefore he getting up in the morning early, and walking up and down in his Fields, caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice he bid them awake, and asked 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 lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault. The Giant therefore drove them before him, and put them into his Castle, into a very dark Dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirit of these two men. Here then they lay, from Wednesday morning till Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or any light, or any to ask how they did. They were therefore here in evil case, and were far from friends and acquaintance. Now in this place. Christian had double sorrow, be-

127

cause 'twas through his unadvised haste that they were brought into this distress.

Now Giant Despair had a Wife, and her name was Diffidence. So when he was gone to bed, he told his Wife what he had done, to wit, that he had taken a couple of Prisoners, and cast them into his Dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best to do further to them. So she asked him what they were, whence they came, 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 any mercy. So when he arose, he getteth him a grievous Crab-tree Cudgel, and goes down into the Dungeon to them ; and there, first falls to rateing of them as if they were dogs, although they gave him never a word of distaste; then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort, that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them, there to condole their misery, and to mourn under their distress. So all that day they spent the time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night she talking with her Husband about them further, and understanding that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them, to make away themselves. So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, and perceiving 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, forth- with to make an end of themselves, either with Knife, Halter, or Poison : For why, said he, should you chuse 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 them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits ; (for he sometimes in sun-shine weather fell into fits) and lost (for a time) the use of his hand : wherefore he withdrew, and left them, (as before) to consider what to do. Then did the Prisoners consult between themselves, whether 'twas best to take his counsel or no : and thus they began to discourse.

Chr. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? the life that we now live is miserable ; for my part I know not whether is best, to live

,o o©'

i®.

^®

»0

128

o ^ •o

17

Giant Despair.

IP

V9i

s^

'-Mm

G (

i:ii/^ ^"^g

thus, or to die out of hand ? My soul chooseth strangling rather than life ; and the Grave is more easy for mc than this Dungeon. Shall we be ruled by the Giant ?

Hope. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death ivould be far more ^welcome to me than thus for ever to abide. But yet let us consider, the Lord of the Country to ivhich ive are going, hath said. Thou shall do no murther, no not to another man's person; much more then are l^e forbidden to take his counsel to kill oursetbes. Besides, he that kills another, cannot but commit murder upon his body; but for one to kill himself, is to kill body

and soul at once. And moreover, my Brother, thou talkest of ease in the Grave; but hast thou forgotten the Hell, ivhithtr for certain the murderers go ? for no murderer hath eternal life, etc. And, let us consider again, that all the Laiv is not in the hand of Giant Despair. Others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him, as 'well as ive; and yet have escaped out of his hand. Who knolls but that God that made the ivorld may cause that Giant Despair may die; or that, at some time or other he may forget to lock us in; or, but he may in short time have an-

He caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. other of his fits beforC

e::^!

)^<

■/'}

y

/o\

'C

ro

c-Z

H	R	^M^^^^	w^
Br^lK^dRVS	M	11 '' sl^HuSmflM	^H
PfflK^	W^M		hHH
I	m		H
1	■		m
	■ IIIIIIIIHlUil		nula^mmt^atK\

Towards evening the Giant goes down into the Dungeon again, to see if his Prisoners had taken his counsel.

as, 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 under his hand. I ivas a fool that I did not try to do it before : but however, my Brother, let's be pa- tient, and endure a ivhile ; the time may come that may give us a happy release: but let us not be our oivn murderers. With these words Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his Brother; 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 had taken his counsel; 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 received 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 Christian fell into a Swound; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their dis- course about the Giant's counsel ; and whether yet they had best to take it or no. Now Christian again seemed to be for doing it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth.

Hope. cMy Brother, said he, remembrest thou not hoiv l^aliant thou hast been heretofore. ApoUyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou didst hear, or see, or feel in the Valley of the Shadoiv of Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone

131

<?^

^IfR*^

^C^

through, and art thou noiv nothing but fear ? Thou seest that I am in the Dungeon ivtth thee, a far iveaker man by nature than thou art : also this Giant has ivounded me as ivelt as thee, and hath also cut off the Bread and Water from my mouth; and ivith thee I mourn 'without the light : but let's exercise a little more patience. I^emember hcnv thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and ivast neither afraid of the Chain nor Cage; nor yet of bloody Death : ivherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame, that becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up ivith patience as ivell as yt>e can.

Now night being come again, and the Giant and his Wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the Prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel : To which he replied. They are sturdy Rogues, they chuse rather to bear all hardship than to make away themselves. Then said she. Take them into the Castle-yard to morrow, and show them the Bones and Skulls of those that thou hast already dispatch'd ; and make them believe, e're a week comes to an end, thou also wilt 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 shews them as his Wife had bidden him. These, said he, were Pilgrims as you are, once, and they trespassed 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. Go get you down to 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. Diffi- dence 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 hope that some will come to relieve them, or that they have pick-locks about them ; by the means of which they hope to escape. And, sayest thou so, my dear ? said the Giant, I 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 he, am I thus

132

That gate, as it opened, made such a creaking-, that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising

to pursue his Prisoners, felt his Limbs to fail.

to lie in a. stinking Dungeon, ivhen I may as ivett <walk at liberty I I hat>e a Key in my bosom, called Promise, that tbill, I am persuaded, open any Lock in Doubting Castle. Then said Hopeful, That's good news ; good Brother pluck 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 the door also. After he went to the Iron Gate, for that must be opened too, but that Lock went damnable hard, yet the Key did open it ; then they thrust open the Gate to make their escape with speed, but that Gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising to pursue his Prison- ers, 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 high-way again, 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 falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a Pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof Over this Stile is the Way to Doubting-Castle, 'which is kept by Giant Despair, ivho despiseth the King of the Coelestial Country, and seeks to destroy his holy Pilgrims. Many therefore that followed after, read what was written, and escaped the danger. This done, they sang as follows :

Out of the ivay ive ivent, and then ive found

What 'tivas to tread upon forbidden ground:

And let them that come after have a care.

Lest heedlessness makes them, as ive, to fare :

Lest they, for trespassing, his prisoners are.

Whose Castle's Doubting, and ivhose 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 to the Mountains, to behold the Gardens and Orchards, the Vineyards, and Fountains of water; where also they drank, and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the Vineyards.

134

Now there was on the tops of these Mountains Shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the high-way 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 cMountains are these ? andivhose be the sheep that feed upon them ?

Shep. These Mountains are Immanuel's Land, and they are within sight of his City, and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for them.

Chr. Is this the ivay to the Coelestial City ?

Shep. You are just in your way.

Chr. How far is it thither ?

Shep. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed.

Chr. Is the ivay safe, or dangerous ?

Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe, but transgressors shall fall therein.

Chr. Is there in this place any relief for Pilgrims that are 'weary and faint in the ivay ?

Shep. The Lord of these Mountains hath given us a charge. Not to be forgetful to enter- tain strangers: There- fore the good of the place is even before you.

I saw also in my Dream, that when the Shepherds perceived that they were way- faring men, they also put questions to them, (to which they made answer as in other places,) as. Whence came you ? and. How got you into the way ? and, By what means

' ''^ Now there was on the tops of these Mountains Shepherds feeding

therein ? For but few their flocks, and they stood by the high-way side.

135

C?7

drnm

c. ■

of them that begin to come hither, do shew their face on these Mountains. But

when the Shepherds heard their answers, being pleased there- with, they looked very lovingly upon them; and said. Wel- come to the delectable cMountains.

The Shepherds, I say, whose names were Knoivledge, Ex- perience, Watchful, and Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their Tents, and made them partake of that which was ready at present.

The top of an Hill called Error. They Said moreover,

We would that you should stay here a while, to be acquainted with us, and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these delectable Mountains. They told them. That they were content to stay ; and so they went to their rest that night, because it was very 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 shew these Pilgrims some wonders? So when they had concluded to do it, they had them first to the top of an Hill called Error, which was very steep on the furthest side, and bid them look down to the bottom. So Christian and Hopeful lookt down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all to pieces by a fall that they had from

136

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 Hytneneus and Philetus, as concerning the Faith of the Resurrection of the Body? They answered, Yes. 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 un- buried (as you see) for an 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 that 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 perceived 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 sometimes 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 little below these Mountains a Stile that led into a Meadow 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 Tombs) came once on Pilgrimage, as you do now, even till they came to that same Stile. And because 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 a while been kept in the Dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those Tombs, where he has 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 re- main in the Congregation of the dead. Then Christian and Hopeful looked one upon another, with tears gushing out ; but yet said nothing to the Shepherds.

Then I saw in my Dream, that the Shepherds had them to an- other place, in a bottom, where was a door in the side of an Hill; and they opened the door, and bid them look in. They looked in therefore, and saw that within it was very dark, and smoaky; they

137

'\F-

! !]\

U ■4-»

fi

yS3

-4-»

c/) J3

6 o

H

c I

(4

C

o •o

•o

a n

a

3 bs

C

C3 ft

c

a

(J

a

o»,H®

•©o

00

,®3

®^

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, saying, this is a By-way to Hell, a way that Hypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their Birth-right, with Esau : such as sell their Master, with. Judas: such as blaspheme the Gospel, with Alexander: and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his wife.

Hope. Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, / perceive that these had on them, dpen every one, a she'iv of Pilgrimage as ive have noiu; had they not ?

Shep. Yes, and held it a long time too.

Hope. Hoiv far might they go on Pilgrimage in their day, since they notivithstanding zuere thus miserably cast au>ay ?

Shep. Some further, and some not so far as these Mountains.

Then said the Pilgrims one to another. We had need cry to the Strong for strength.

Shep. Ay, and you will have need to use it when you have it, too.

By this time the Pilgrims had a desire to go forwards, and the Shep- herds a desire they should; so they walked together towards the end of the Mountains. Then said the Shepherds one to another. Let us here shew to the Pilgrims the Gates of the Ccelestial City, if they have skill to look through our Perspective Glass. The Pilgrims then lovingly accepted the motion : so they had them to the top of an high Hill, called Clear, and gave them their Glass to look. Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of that last thing that the Shep- herds had shewed them made their hand shake, by means of which impediment they could not look steadily through the Glass ; yet they thought they saw something like the Gate, and also some of the Glory of the place.

Thus by the Shepherds, Secrets are reveal' d. Which from all other men are kept conceal' d : Come to the Shepherds then, if you 'would see Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.

L 0.

I®

When they were about to depart, one of the Shepherds gave them a note of the ivay. Another of them bid them beware of the flatterer. The third, bid them take heed that they sleep not upon the Inchanted

130

Ground, and the fourth, bid them God 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 Mountains, on the left hand, lieth the Coun- try 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 luhat parts he came ? and ivhither he ivas going ?

Ign, Sir, I was born in the Country that lieth off there, a little on the left hand ; and I am going to the Coelestial City.

Chr. Bat hoiv do you think to get in at the Gate, for you may find some difficulty there ?

Ign. As other good People do, said he.

Chr. But yt>hat have you to she^u at that Gate, that may cause that the Gate should be opened to you}

Ign. I know my Lords will, and I have been a good liver, I pay

140

every man his own ; I Pray, Fast, pay Tithes, and give Alms, and have left my Country for whither I am going.

Chr. Bat thou earnest not in at the Wicket-gate, that is at the head of this ivay ; thou earnest in hither through that same crooked Lane ; and therefore I fear, hoivever thou mayest think of thyself ivhen the reckoning day shall come, thou ivilt ha1>e laid to thy charge that thou art a Thief and a 'T^bber, instead of getting admittance into the City.

Ign. 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, all the World knows that that is a great way off of our Country. I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it ; nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine pleasant green Lane, that comes down from our Country the next way into it.

When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own conceit, he said to Hopeful whisperingly, There is more hopes of a fool than of him. And said moreover When he that is a fool ivalketh by the ivay, his ivisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool. 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 afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good of him? Then said Hopeful :

.•■ f

• . ■ • >

Let Ignorance a little ivhile noiv muse On ivhat is said, and let him not refuse Good Counsel to imbrace, lest he remain Still Ignorant ofTbhat's the chief est gain. God saith, Those that no understanding have {Although he made them) them he 7t>ill not save.

Hope. He further added. It is not good, I think, to say all to him 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 he came after. Now when they had passed him a little way, they entered into a very dark Lane, where they met a man whom seven Devils had bound with seven

141

r

strong Cords, and were carrying of him back to the door that they saw in the side of the Hill. Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did Hopeful his Companion : yet as the Devils led away the man, Christian looked to see if he knew him, and he thought it might be one Turn-ati>ay that dwelt in the Toti>n of Apostacy. But he did not perfectly see his face, for he did hang his head like a Thief that is found. But being gone past. Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back a Paper with this Inscription, Wanton Professor, and damna- ble Apostate. Then said Christian to his Fellow, Now I call to remembrance that which was told me of a thing that happened to a good man hereabout. The name of the man was Little-Faith, but a good man, and he dwelt in the Town of Sincere. The thing was this ; at the entering in of this passage there comes down from Broad- ivay-gate a Lane called Dead-man' s-lane; so called, because 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. Now there happened, at that time, to come down that Lane from 'Broad-ivay-gate three Sturdy Rogues, and their names were Faint- heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, (three brothers) and they espying Little- Faith where he was, came galloping up with speed. Now the good man was Just awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his Journey. So they came all up to him, and with threatening Language bid him stand. At this. Little-faith lookt as white as a Clout, and had neither power to fight nor fly. Then said Faint-heari, 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, pull'd out thence a bag of Silver. Then he cried out. Thieves, thieves. With that, Guilt with a great Club that was in his hand, strook Little-Faith on the head, and with that blow fell'd 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. Now after a while Little-faith came to himself, and get- ting up, made shift to scrabble on his way. This was the story. Hope. But did they take from him all that ^er he had} Chr. No : the place where his Jewels were, they never ransack'd.

142

so those he kept still; but as, I was 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 Journeys end ; nay, (if I was not mis-informed) he 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 ivent (as we say) ivith many a hungry belly, the most part of the rest of the way.

Hope. But is it not a ivonder they got not from him his Certificate, by l^hich he ivas to receive his admittance at the Ccelestial gate ?

Chr. 'Tis a wonder, but they got not that : though they mist it not through any good cunning of his, for he being dismayed with their coming upon him, had neither power nor skill to hide any thing : so 'twas more by good Providence than by his endeavour, that they mist of that good thing.

Hope. But it mast needs be a comfort to him, that they got not this Jewel from him.

Chr. It might have been great comfort to him, had he used it as he should ; but they that told me the story, said. That he made but little use of it all the rest of the way ; and that because of the dismay that he had in their taking away of his Money : indeed he forgot it a great part of the rest of the 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 all.

Hope. Alas poor Man I this could not but be a great grief unto him.

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 that in a strange place, as he was ? 'Tis a wonder he did not die with grief, poor heart ! I was told, that he scattered almost all the rest of the way with nothing but doleful and bitter complaints. Telling also to all that over-took him, or that he over-took in the way as he went, where he was robbed, and how ; who they were that did it, and what he lost ; how he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with life.

Hope. But 'tis a 'ti)onder that his necessities did not pat him upon selling, or pawning some of his Je=wels, that he might have ivherewith to relieve himself in his Journey.

Chr. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the Shell to this very

143

3

o

C <4

<«

b

i

(4

C

c

<4

u

b«

I I

n o

PQ

6 o

c

C o

i

8

>13

C

a

i4

day : For what should he paivn them ? or to whom 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 administred to him ; besides, had his Jewels been missing at the Gate of the Ccelestial City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from an Inheritance there ; and that would have been worse to him than the appearance and villany of ten thousand Thieves.

Hope. Why art thou so tart my Brother ? Esau sold his Birth- right, and that for a mess of Pottage; and that Birth-right 7i>as his greatest JeTVel ; and if he, ivhy 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 Little- faith's Jewels were not so. Esau's belly was his God, but Little- faith 's belly was not so. Esau '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 Lusts, For L am at the point to die, said he, and what good 'will this Birth-right do me ? But Little- faith though it was his lot to have but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from such extravagances ; 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 little. Therefore no mar- vel, if where the flesh only bears sway (as it will in that Man where no faith is to resist) if he sells 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 aivay. When their minds are set upon their Lusts, they will have them whatever they cost. But Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was on things Divine ; his livelihood was upon things that were Spiritual, and from above. 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 things ? Will a man give a penny to fill his belly with hay ? or can you perswade the Turtle-dove to live upon Carrion, like the Croiv ? Though faithless ones, can for carnal Lusts, pawn, or mortgage, or sell what they have, and themselves outright to boot ;

145

yet they that have faith, sa'hing faith, though but a little of it, cannot do so. Here therefore, my Brother, is thy mistake.

Hope. / ackno'it>ledge it ; bat yet your severe reflection had almost made me angry,

Chr. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the Birds that are of the brisker sort, who will run to and fro in trodden paths with the shell upon their heads : but pass by that, and consider the matter under debate, and all shall be well betwixt thee and me.

Hope. But Christian, These three felloes, I am persivaded 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 ivith them, and have yielded when there ivas no remedy.

Chr. That they are Cowards, many have said, but few have found it so in the time of Trial. As for a great heart. Little- faith had none ; and I perceive by thee, my 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 distance 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 in to their aid himself, and his voice is as the roaring of a Lion. I myself have been engaged as this Little-faith was, and I found it a terrible thing. These three Villains set upon me, and I beginning like a Christian to resist, they gave but 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 cloathed with Armour 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 attends us, but he that hath been in the Battle himself.

Hope. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one Great-grace l^as in the lijay.

Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and their Master, when

146

u

Great-grace hath but appeared, and no marvel, for he is the King's Champion. But I tro, you will put some difference between Little-faith and the King's Champion ; all the King's Subjects are not his Champions : 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 ? 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 walls.

Hope. / Tijould it had been Great-grace, for their sakes.

Chr. If it had been he, he might have had his hands full.

One Great-grace was in the way.

For I must tell you. That though Great-grace is excellent good at his Weapons, and has and can, so long as he keeps them at Sword's point, do well enough with them : yet if they get within him, even Faint-heart, Mistrust, or the other, it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man is down, you know what can he do.

Whoso looks well upon Great-grace's face, shall see those Scars and Cuts there, that shall easily give demonstration of what I say. Yea once I heard he should say (and that when he was in the Com- bat) We despaired even of life : How did these sturdy Rogues and their Fellows make David groan, mourn, and roar? Yea, Neman, and Hezekiah too, though Champions in their day, were forced to be-

147

\^

:^o5

•c^gi

fo^^-^

v<l^

I)

6

stir them, when by these assaulted; and yet, that notwithstanding, they had their Coats soundly 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.

Besides, their King is at their Whistle, he is never out of hearing ; and if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help them. And of him it is said. The Sword of him that layeth at htm cannot hold the Spear, the Dart, nor the Habergeon. He es- teemeth Iron as Straiv, and Brass as rotten Wood. The Arroiv can- not make him flie. Slingstones are turned with him into stubble. Darts are counted as stubble, he laugheth at the shaking of a Spear. What can a man do in this case ? 'Tis true, if a man could at every turn have/06'5 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 the Grashopper, the glory of his Nostrils is terri- ble, he paweth in the Valley, rejoyceth in his strength, and goeth out to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth back from the Sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the glittering Spear, and the shield. He swalloweth the ground with fierceness and rage, neither believeth he that it is the sound of the Trumpet. He saith among the Trumpets, Ha, ha / and he smelleth the Battel afar off, the thundring of the Captains, and the shoutings.

But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could do better, when wc hear of others that they have been foiled, nor be tickled at the thoughts of our own manhood, for such commonly come by the worst when tried. Witness 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 these Villains, as he ?

When therefore we hear that such Robberies are done on the King's High-way, 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 wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore he that

148

i2i

E-o

^')(

V^c)

'CVJ-

^.'

»c

:^

had skill, hath said, Above all take theShield of Faith, ivhere'with ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the ivicked.

'Tis good also that we desire of the King a Con- voy, yea that he will go with us himself. This madz David rqoycc when in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; and cMoses was rather for dying where he stood, than to go one step without his God. O my Brother, if he will but go along with us, what need we be afraid of ten thou- sands that shall set them- selves against us, but with- out him, the proud helpers fall under the slain,

I for my part have been

in the fray before now, and ^°°' kittle-faith l Hast been among the Thieves ?

though (through the goodness of him that is best) I am as you see alive : yet I cannot boast of my manhood. Glad shall I be, if I meet with no more such brunts, though I fear we are not got beyond all danger. However, since the Lion and the Bear hath not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine.

Poor Little-faith ! Hast been among the Thieves ? Wast robb'd! Remember this, Who so believes And gets more faith, shall then a Victor be Over ten thousand, else scarce over three.

So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went then till they came at a place where they saw a 'ivay put itself into their ivay, and

149

3*1^

^J

A

u

c c

O

a

S

o

be

C

1 o

u

c O

bo C

"H C5

"S.

seemed withal to lie as straight as the way which they should go; and here they knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed straight before them ; therefore here they stood still to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold a man black of flesh, but covered with a very light Robe, came to them and asked them. Why they stood there ? They answered. They were going to the Coelestial City, but knew not which of these ways to take. Follow me, said 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 tfiat they desired to go to, that in little time their faces were turned away from it ; yet they followed him. But by and by, before 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 ivhtte robe fell off the black man 's back ; then they saw where they were. Wherefore there they lay crying sometime, for they could not get themselves out.

Chr. 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 ? As is the saying of the Wise man, so we have found it this day : A man that flattereth his Neighbour, spreadeth a Net for his feet.

Hope. They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more sure finding thereof : but therein we have also forgotten to read, and have not kept ourselves from the Paths of the destroyer. Here David was wiser than we ; for saith he. Concerning the ti>orks of men, by the ivord of thy lips, I have kept me from the Paths of the destroyer. Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the Net. At last they espied a shining One coming towards them, with a whip of small cord 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 Sion, but were led out of their way, by a black man, cloathed in white, who bid us, said they, follow him ; for he was going thither too. Then said he with the Whip, it is Flatterer, a false Apostle, that hath transformed him- self into an Angel of light. So he rent the Net, and let the men out. Then said he to them. Follow me, that I may set you in your way again ; so he led them back to the way, which they had left to follow

151

..■.■...,.■■■..,.■■.■...■■... ■^^'•'••\'-^.i'?'^7r^^P?^^'^^??r-3?TT???r^;-.\-.;\%v/??J^^^^35yrrr'T^^ i........rrri

the Flatterer. Then he asked them, saying, Where did you lie the last night ? They said, with the Shepherds upon the delectable Mountains. He asked them then. If they had not of them Shepherds a note of direc- tion for the ivay ? They answered. Yes. But did you, said he, when you was at a stand, pluck out and read your note ? They answered. No. He asked them why? They said they forgot. He asked, moreover, E the Shepherds did not bid them beware of the Flatterer ? They answered. Yes; But we did not imagine, said they, that this fine-spoken man had been he.

Then I saw in my Dream, that he commanded them to lie dotun ; 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. As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous therefore, and repent. This done, he bids them go on their way, and take good heed to the other directions of the Shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the right way.

Come hither, you that ivalk along the ivay / See hoiv the Pilgrims fare, that go astray ! They catched are in an intangling Net, 'Cause they good Counsel lightly did forget : 'Tis true, they rescu'd ivere, 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 and alone, all along the High-way to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow. Yonder is a man with his back toward Sion, 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 nearer and nearer, and at last came up unto them. His name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were going ?

Chr. We are going to the cMount Sion.

Then Atheist fell into a very great Laughter.

Chr. What is the meaning of your Laughter ?

Atheist. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you so tedious a Journey ; and yet are like to have nothing but your travel for your pains.

152

ryrryrf^f^

.v.-

^'>YA

'•':rIv.v''';v-;:^^^^^f!^^?^!!^^^'S^^^!!?^

S-\^

r.y.v

U.V.-

.v:>.

Chr. Why man ? Do you think ive shall not be received ?

Atheist. Received ! There is no such place as you Dream of, in all this World.

Chr. Bat there is in the World to come.

Atheist. When I was at home in mine own Country I heard as you now affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking this City this twenty years : but find no more of it, than I did the first day I set out.

Chr. We haJ>e both heard and belie'he that there is such a place to be found.

Atheist. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to seek. But 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 will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then cast away, for hopes of that which I now see is not.

Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful, his Fellow, Is it W{.W''^i^'h. true Tiyhich this man hath said?

Hope. Take heed, he is one of the Flatterers; remember what it hath cost us once al- ready for our harkning to such kind of Fellows. What ! no Mount Sion ! Did we not see from the delectable Moun- tains the Gate of the City? Also, are we not now to walk by Faith? Let us go '^ on, said Hopeful, lest the man with the Whip over- takes us again.

You should have taught me that Lesson,whichI will round you in the ears withal; Cease, my son, to hear the Instruc- tion that causeth to err from

vii

-J'Ts,

,\ti"V

153

His Name was Atheist.

20

the ivords of kno^Dledge. I say, my Brother, cease to hear him, and let us believe to the saving of the Soul.

Chr. cMy Brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I doubted of the truth of our belief myself : but to prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart. As for this man, I knoiv that he is blinded by the god of this World : Let thee and I go on, knoiving that ive have belief of the Truth, and no lie is of the Truth.

Hope. Now do I rejoyce in the 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 cer- tain 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 do now begin to grow so drowsy that I can scarcely hold up mine eyes ; let us lie down here and take one Nap.

Chr. By no means, said the other, lest sleeping, ive never eCtoake more.

Hope. Why my Brother? sleep is sweet to the Labouring man; we may be refreshed if we take a Nap.

Chr. Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us be- iPoare of the Inchanted ground? He meant by that, that ive should beivare of sleeping ; luherefore let us not sleep as do others, but let us ivatch and be sober.

Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault, and had I been here alone, I had by sleeping run the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise man saith, Ihvo are better than one. Hitherto hath thy Com- pany been my mercy ; and thou shall have a good reivard for thy labour.

Chr. Noiv then, said Christian, to prevent droivsiness in this place, let us fall into good discourse.

Hope. With all my heart, said the other.

Chr. Where shall ive begin ?

Hope. Where God began with us. But do you begin, if you please.

When Saints do sleepy grozu, let them come hither. And hear how these tivo Pilgrims talk together:

154

Do you not remember that one of the Shepherds bid us beware of the Inchanted ground ?

m $1

Yea, let them learn of them, in any ivise. Thus to keep ope their droivsy slumb'ring eyes. Saints' fello'ujship, if it be manag'd ivell, Keeps them aivake, and that in spite of hell,

Chr. Then Christian began and said, / ivill ask you a question. HoJi> came you to think at first of doing as you do noiv ?

Hope. Do you mean, How came I at first to look after the good of my Soul ?

Chr. Yes, that is my meaning.

Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which were seen and sold at our fair ; things which, as I believe now, would have (had I continued in them still) drowned me in perdition and destruction.

Chr. What things <were they ?

Hope. All the Treasures and Riches of the World. Also I de- lighted much in Rioting, Revelling, Drinking, Swearing, Lying, Qncleanness, Sabbath-breaking, and what not, that tended to destroy the Soul. But I found at last, by hearing and considering of things that are Divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved Faith- ful, that was put to death for his Faith and good-living in Vanity-fair, That the end of these things is death. And that for these things' sake, the ivrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience.

Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of this con- viction ?

Hope. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the commission of it, but endeavoured, when my mind at first began to be shaken with the word, to shut mine eyes against the light thereof.

Chr. But ivhat ivas the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first ivorkings of God's blessed Spirit upon you ?

Hope. The causes were, J. 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 was loth to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with mine old Companions; their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which convictions were upon me, were

15G

•V,

"p^

W»<*.-,

wr)i^

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 as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble.

Hope. Yes verily, but it would come into my mind again, and then I should be as bad, nay worse, than I was before.

Chr. Why, <what Ttfas it that brought your sins to mind again.

Hope. Many things, as,

1. If I did but meet a good man in the Streets; or,

2. If I have heard any read in the Bible ; or,

3. If mine Head did begin to Ake ; or,

4. If I were told that some of my Neighbors were sick ; or,

5. If I heard the Bell toll for some that were dead ; or,

6. If I thought of dying myself; or,

7. If I heard that sudden death happened to others.

8. But especially, when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to Judgment.

Chr. And could you at any time ivith ease get off the guilt of sin, ivhen by any of these Jfays it came upon you ?

Hope. No, not latterly, for then they got faster hold of my Con- science. And then, if I did but think of going back to sin (though my mind was turned against it) it would be double torment to me.

Chr. And hoiv did you do then ?

Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend my life, for else thought I, I am sure to be damned.

Chr. And did you endeavour to mend ?

Hope. Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, but sinful Com- pany too ; and betook me to Religious Duties, as Praying, Reading, weeping for Sin, speaking Truth to my Neighbors, etc. These things I did, with many others, too much here to relate.

Chr. And did you think yourself 'well then ?

Hope. Yes, for a while ; but at the last my trouble came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of all my Reformations.

Chr. Hoiv came that about, since you luas noiv Reformed ?

Hope. There were several things brought it upon me, especially such sayings as these ; All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags. By the ivorks of the Laiv no man shall be justified. When you have done all things, say, ive are unprofitable : with many more the like.

157

/f.'-i'-:-:--:

/'..■•'■••■>

i

From whence I began to reason with my self thus : If all my right- eousnesses are filthy rags, if by the deeds of the Law, no man can be justified; And if, when we have done all, we are yet unprofitable: Then 'tis but a folly to think of Heaven by the Law. I further thought thus: K a Man runs an J 00 1. into the Shop-keeper's debt, and after that shall pay for all that he shall fetch ; yet his old debt stands still in the Book uncrossed, for the which the Shop-keeper may sue him, and cast him into Prison till he shall pay the debt.

Chr. Well, and hcnv did you apply this to yourself?

Hope. Why, I thought thus with myself : I have by my sins run a great way into God's Book, and that my now reforming will not pay off that score; therefore I should think still under all my present amendments. But how shall I be freed from that damnation that I have brought myself in danger of by my former transgressions ?

Chr. a very good application : but pray go on.

Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me, even since my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly into the best of what I do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing itself with the best of that I do. So that now I am forced to conclude, that notwithstanding my former fond conceits of myself and duties, I have committed sin enough in one duty to send me to Hell, though my former life had been faultless.

Chr. And ivhat did you do then ?

Hope. Do! I could not tell what to do, till I brake my mind to Faithful; for he and I were well acquainted: And he told me. That unless I could obtain the righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither mine own, nor all the righteousness of the World could save me.

Chr. And did you think he spake true ?

Hope. Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied with mine own amendments, I had called him Fool for his pains : but now, since I see my own infirmity, and the sin that cleaves to my best per- formance, I have been forced to be of his opinion.

Chr. But did you think, ivhen at first he suggested it to you, that there ivas such a man to be found, of ivhom it might Justly be said. That he ne^er committed sin ?

Hope. 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 l:i)hat man this ivas, and hoiv you must be justified by him ?

158

JiMSii

Hope. Yes, and he told me 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 flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the Tree. I asked him further. How that man's righteousness could be of that effi- cacy, to justify another before God ? And he told me. He was the mighty God, and did what he did, and died the death also, not for him- self, but for me ; to whom his doings, and the worthiness of them should be imputed, if I believed on him.

Chr. And ivhat did you do then ?

Hope. I made my objections against my believing, for that I thought he was not willing to save me.

Chr. c/lnd ivhat said Faithful to you then ?

Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said. It was presump- tion : but he said, No ; for I was invited to come. Then he gave me a Book oi Jesus his 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. Then I asked him. What I must do when I came ? and he told me, I must entreat upon my knees, with all my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. Then I asked him further. How I 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 sinner, and make me to knoiv and believe in Jesus Christ ; for I see that if his righteousness had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, lam utterly cast aivay. Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the World ; and moreover, that thou art ivilling to bestoui him upon such a poor sin- ner as I am, (and I am a sinner indeed) Lord take therefore this oppor- tunity, and magnify thy grace in the Salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ, Amen.

Chr. And did you do as you ivere bidden ?

Hope. Yes ; over, and over, and over.

Chr. And did the Father reT^eal his Son to you ?

Hope. Not at the first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, nor fifth, no, nor at the sixth time neither.

159

■hm^:

®y>o

oo

Chr. What did you do then ?

Hope. What ! why I could not tell what to do.

Chr. Had you not thoughts of lea'btng off praying ?

Hope. Yes, an hundred times, twice told.

Chr. And ti)hat was the reason you did not ?

Hope. I believed that that was true which had been told me; to ivit. 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, tvait for it, because it ivitl surely come, and ti}ill not tarry. So I continued praying until the Father shewed me his Son.

Chr. And hoiv ivas he revealed unto you ?

Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of mine understanding; and thus it was. One day I was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time in my life ; and this sadness was through a fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as I was then looking for nothing but Hell, and the everlasting dam- nation of my Soul, suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus look down from Heaven upon me, and saying. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.

But I replied. Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner; and he answered, cMy grace is sufficient for thee. Then I said. But Lord, what is believing ? And then I saw from that saying, [ife 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 affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed believed 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 ? And I heard him say, And him that cometh to me, I l^ill 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 thee? Then he said, Christ Jesus came into the World to sal>e sinners. He is the end of the Law for righteousness to every one that believes. He died for our sins, and rose again for our justification. He lolled us, andivashedus from our sins in his own blood. He is cMediator betiveen God and us. He ever li'beth to make intercession for us. From all which I gathered

o*.H®

•©o

,®:

®^

that I must look for righteousness in his person, and for satisfaction for my sins by nis blood ; that what 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. And 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 7t>as a Revelation of Christ to your soul indeed. Bat tell me particularly 'what effect this had upon your spirit.

Hope. It made me see that all the World, notwithstanding all the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that God the Father, though he 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 Ignorance ; for there never came thought into mine heart before now that shewed me so the beauty of Jesus Christ. It made me love a holy life, and long to do something for the Honour and Glory of the name 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 then saw in my Dream, that Hopeful looked back and saw Igno- rance, whom they had left behind, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, hoiv far yonder Youngster loitereth behind.

Chr. Ay, ay, I see him ; he careth not for our Company.

Hope. But I tro, it ivould not ha't>e hurt him, had he kept pace with us hitherto.

Chr. That's true, but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise.

Hope. That I think he doth, but hoioever let us tarry for him. So they did.

Then Christian said to him. Come aTiiay man ; luhy do you stay so behind?

Ign. I take my pleasure in walking alone, even more a great deal than in Company, unless I like it the better.

Then said Christian to Hopeful (but softly) Did I not tell you, he cared not for our Company. But hoivever, come up, and let us talk aivay the time in this solitary place. Then directing his Speech to Ignorance, he said. Come, hoiv do you ? hoiv stands it between God and your Soul noiv ?

Ign. I hope well, for I am always full of good motions that come into my mind to comfort me as I walk.

161

I®

21

Chr. What good motions ? pray tell us.

Ign. Why, I think of God and Heaven.

Chr. So do the Devils and damned Seals.

Ign. But I think of them, and desire them.

Chr. So do many that are never like to come there : The Soul of the Sluggard desires and hath nothing.

Ign. But I think of them, and leave all for them.

Chr. That I doubt ; for lea1>ing of all is an hard matter, yea a harder matter then many are aivare of. But Ji)hy, or by ivhat, art thou perswaded that thou hast left all for God and Heal>en }

Ign. My heart tells me so.

Chr. The <wise man says. He that trusts his own heart is a fool

Ign. This is spoken of an evil heart, but mine is a good one.

Chr. But hoiv dost thou prove that ?

Ign. It comforts me in hopes of Heaven.

Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness ; for a mans heart may minister comfort to him in the hopes of that thing for ivhich he yet has no ground to hope.

Ign. But my heart and life agree together, and therefore my hope is well grounded.

Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together ?

Ign. My heart tells me so.

Chr. Ask my Fellow if I be a Thief. Thy heart tells thee so 1 Except the ivord of God beareth ivitness in this matter, other Testi- mony is of no value.

Ign. 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 hath good thoughts, and that is a good life that is according to God's Commandments. But it is one thing indeed to halje these, and another thing only to think so.

Ign. Pray what count you good thoughts, and a life according to God's Commandments ?

Chr. There are good thoughts of divers kinds, some respecting ourselves, some God, some Christ, and some other things.

Ign. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves ?

Chr. Such as agree ivith the Word of God.

Ign. When does our thoughts of ourselves agree with the Word of God ?

162

Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thoo

<>

,^*

mp

^0

Chr. WTien ive pass the same Judgment upon ourselves ivhich the Word passes. To explain myself ; the Word of God saith of persons in a natural condition, There is none Righteous, there is none that doth good. It saith also, That every imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually. And again, The imagination of man's heart is evil from his Youth. Noiv then, ivhen ive think thus of ourselves, having sense thereof, then are our thoughts good ones, because according to the Word of God.

Ign. I will never believe that my heart is thus bad.

Chr. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought concerning thy- self in thy life. But let me go on : As the Word passeth a Judgment upon our HEART, so it passeth a Judgment upon our WA YS ; and •when our thoughts of our HEARTS and WAYS agree l^ith the Judgment 'which the Word giveth of both, then are both good, because agreeing thereto.

Ign. Make out your meaning.

Chr. Why, the Word of God saith. That man's ivays are crooked 'ways, not good, but perverse. It saith. They are naturally out of the good 'way, that they have not kncnvn it. No'w 'k'hen a man thus thinketh of his 'ii)ays, I say 'when he doth sensibly, and 'with heart- humiliation thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his O'wn 'ways, because his thoughts no'w agree 'with the judgment of the Word of God.

Ign. What are good thoughts concerning God ?

Chr. Even {as I have said concerning ourselves) 1t>hen our thoughts ^f God do agree 'with 'what the Word saith of him. And that is, 'when 'we think of his Being and Attributes as the Word hath taught : of 'which I cannot no'w discourse at large. 'But to speak of him 'with reference to us, then 'we have right thoughts of God, "ivhen yt>e think that he knoJifS us better than we kno'w ourselves, and can see sin in us, 'when and yt)here 'we can see none in ourselves ; 'when 'we think he kno'Ufs our inmost thoughts, and that our heart 'with all its depths is al'ways open unto his eyes. Also 'when 'we think that all our Righteousness stinks in his Nostrils, and that therefore he cannot abide to see us stand before him in any confidence even of all our best performances.

Ign. Do you think that I am such a fool, as to think God can see

164

no further than I ? or that I would come to God in the best of my performances ?

Chr. Why, hoiv dost thou think in this matter ?

Ign. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for Justification.

Chr. Ho'ibI think thou mast believe in Christ, 'when thou seest not thy need of him! Thou neither seest thy original, or actual infirmities, but hast such an opinion 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 ?

Ign. I believe well enough for all that.

Chr. Ho^u doest thou believe ?

Ign. 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 Law. Or thus, Christ makes my Duties that are Re- ligious acceptable to his Father by virtue of his Merits ; and so shall I be justified.

Chr. Let me give an answer to this confession of thy faith.

1. Thou believest with a Fantastical Faith, for this faith is no ivhere described in the Word.

2. Thou believest 'ti>ith a False Faith, because it taketh Justification from the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.

3. This faith maketh not Christ ajustifier of thy person, but of thy actions ; and of thy person for thy actions' sake, luhich is false.

4. Therefore this faith is deceitful, even such as JPill leave thee under wrath, in the day of God Almighty. For true Justifying Faith puts the soul (as sensible of its lost condition by the Law) upon fly- ing 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 ivith God, but his personal obedience to the Laiv in doing and suffering for us, what that required at our hands.) This righteousness, I say, true faith accepteth, under the skirt of which, the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquit from condemnation.

Ign. What ! would you have us trust to what Christ in his own person has done without us ! This conceit would loosen the reins of

165

■5

our lust, and tolerate us to live as we list. For what matter how wc live, if wc may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness from all, when we believe it ?

Chr. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou; even this thy ansiver demonstrateth ivhat I say. Ignorant thou art of what Justifying righteousness is, and as ignorant hoiv to secure thy Soul through the faith of it, from the heavy ivrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, ivhich is, to boiv and ')i)in over the heart to God in Christ, to love his Name, his Word, Ways, and People; and not as thou ignorantly imaginest.

Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from Heaven ?

Ign. What! You are a man for revelations ! I believe that ivhat both you, and all the rest of you say about that matter, is but the fruit of distracted brains.

Hope. Why man ! Christ is so hid in God from the natural appre- hensions of all flesh, that he cannot by any man be savingly known, unless God the Father reveals him to them.

Ign. That 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 not so slightly to speak of this matter : for this I will boldly affirm, (even as my good companion hath done) that no man can know Jesus Christ but by the 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 exceeding greatness of his mighty power ; the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine own wretchedness, and fly 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.

Ign. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace 'with you ; do you go on before, I must stay aivhile behind.

Then they said. Well Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be To slight good Counsel, ten times given thee ?

166

And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt knoiv Ere long the evil of thy doing so. I^emember man in time, stoop, do not fear. Good Counsel taken Tbell, salves ; therefore hear. But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou ivilt be The loser ( Ignorance) I'll ivarrant thee.

Then Christian addressed thus himself 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 before, and Igno- rance he came hobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, It pities me much for this poor man, it ivill certainly go ill ivith him at last.

Hope. Alas, there are abundance in our Town in his 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. But noiv ive are by ourselves, ivhat do you think of such men ? Have they at no time, think you, convictions of sin, and so consequently fears that their state is dangerous ?

Hope. Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the elder man.

Chr. Then I say sometimes {as I think) they may, but they being naturally ignorant, understand not that such cont>ictions tend to their good; and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and pre- sumptuously continue to flatter themselves in the ivay of their own hearts.

Hope. I do believe as you say, that fear tends much to Men's good and to make them right, at their beginning to go on Pilgrimage.

Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right : for so says the ivord. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom.

Hope. 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.

2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for Salvation.

J

^^M

>^

3. It begetteth and continucth in the soul a great reverence of God, his word, and ways, keeping it tender, and making it afraid to turn from them, to the right hand, or to the left, to anything that may dis- honour God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the Enemy fo speak reproachfully.

Hope. Well said, I believe you have said the truth. Are we now almost got past the enchanted ground ?

Chr. Why, are you weary of this discourse ?

Hope. No verily, but that I would know where we are.

Chr. We have not nozu abol^e two miles further to go thereon. But let us return to our matter. Now the Ignorant know not that such conUctions that tend to put them in fear, are for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them.

Hope. How do they seek to stifle them ?

Chr. I. They think that those fears are wrought by the Devil (though indeed they are wrought of God) and thinking so, they resist them, as things that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their faith, (when alas for them, poor men that they are ! they have none at all) and therefore they harden their hearts against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear, and therefore, in despite of them, wax presumptuously con- fident. 4. They see that these fears tend to take away from them their pitiful old self-holiness, and therefore they resist them with all their might.

Hope. I know something of this myself; for before I knew myself it was so with me.

Chr. Well, ive <will leave at this time our Neighbor Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable question.

Hope. With all my heart, but you shall still begin.

Chr. Well then, did you not knew about ten years ago, one Temporary in your parts, who was a forward man in ^ligion then ?

Hope, Know him ! Yes, he dwelt in Graceless, a Town about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next door to one Turn-back. i

Chr. Right, he dwelt under the same roof with him. Well, that \ man was much awakened once; I believe that then he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages that was due thereto.

168

J^

Hope. 1 am of your mind, for (my House not being above three miles from him) he would ofttimes come to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the man, and was not altogether without hope of him ; but one may see it is not every one that cries, Lord, Lord,

Chr. He told me once. Thai he 'was resolved to go on Pilgrimage as ive go noiv ; but all of a sudden he gre^w acquainted ivith one Save-self, and then he became a stranger to me.

Hope. Now since we are talking about him, let us a little enquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and such others.

Chr. Lt may be l>ery profitable, but do you begin.

Hope. Well then, there are in my Judgment four reasons for it.

1. Though the Consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds are not changed : therefore when the power of guilt weareth away, that which provoked them to be Religious ceaseth. Wherefore they naturally turn to their own course again : even as we see the Dog that is sick of what he hath eaten, so long as his sickness prevails he vomits and casts up all ; not that he doth this of a free mind (if we may say a Dog has a mind) but because it troubleth his Stomach; but now when his sickness is over, and so his Stomach eased, his desires being not at all alieniate from his vomit, he turns him about and licks up all. And so it is true which is written. The Dog is turned to his own 7>omit again. This, I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the sense.and fear of the torments of Hell, as their sense of Hell and the fears of damnation chills and cools, so their desires for Heaven and Salvation 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 the fear of men bringeth a snare. So then, though they seem to be hot for Heaven, so long as the flames of Hell are about their ears, yet when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts : namely, that 'tis 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 unnecessary troubles: and so they fall in with the world again.

169

r>

)Pj

-,*

^~^'

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 con- temptible. Therefore when they have lost their sense of Hell and wrath to come, they return again to their former course.

4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are grievous to them, they like not to see their misery before they come into it. Though perhaps the sight of it first, if they loved that sight, might make them fly whither the righteous fly and are safe ; but because they do, as I hinted before, even shun the thoughts of guilt and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, they harden their hearts gladly, and chuse such ways as will harden them more and more.

Chr. You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of all is, for ivant of a change in their mind and will. And therefore they are but like the Felon that standeth before the Judge; he quakes and trembles, and seems to repent most heartily : but the bottom of all is the fear of the Halter, not of any detestation of the offence; as is evident, because, let but this man have his liberty, and he will be a Thief, and so a Rogue still; 'Whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be otherwise.

Hope. Now I have shewed you the reasons of their going back, do you show me the manner thereof.

Chr. So I "will ^willingly.

\. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from the re- membrance of God, Death, and Judgment to come.

2. Then they cast off by degrees private Duties, as Closet-Prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the like.

3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians.

4. After that, they grow cold to publick Duty, as Hearing, Reading, Godly Conference, and the like.

5. Then they begin to pick holes, as we say, in the Coats of some of the Godly, and that devilishly; that they may have a seeming colour to throw Religion (for the sake of some infirmity they have spied in them) behind their backs.

6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with carnal, loose, and wanton men.

7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret ;

i^

%.

2.

vCr-7

}^(

"5*

^Gj

<rl

ee>

\^i

VD

'(^

fe*^

c^

and glad are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that they may the more boldly do it through their example.

8. After this, they begin to play with little sins openly.

9. And then, being hardened, they shew themselves as they are. Thus being launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a Miracle of Grace prevent it, they everlastingly perish in their own deceivings.

Now I saw in my Dream, that by this time the Pilgrims were got over the Inchanted Ground, and entering in the Country of Beulah, whose Air was very sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here they heard continually the singing of Birds, and saw every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the Turtle in the Land. In this Country the Sun shineth night and day; wherefore this was beyond the Valley of the Shadoiv of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither could they from this place so much as see Doubting-Castle. Here they were within sight of the City they were going to : also here met them some of the Inhabitants thereof; for in this Land the shining Ones commonly walked, because it was upon the Bor- ders of Heaven. In this Land also the contract between the Bride and the Bridegroom was re- newed; Yea here, as the Bridegroom rejoyceth over the Bride, so did their God rejoyce over them. Here they had no want of Corn and Wine ; for in this place they ., ^ , , ,

, , , Also here met them some of the Inhabitants thereof ; for in this

met With abun- Land the shining Ones commonly walked.

171

1

UV:;-'.';,

dance of what they had sought for in all their Pilgrimage. Here they heard voices from out of the City, loud voices saying, Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Behold thy Salvation cometh, behold, his re'ward is ivith him. Here all the Inhabitants of the Country called them. The holy People, The redeemed of the Lord, Sought out, etc.

Now as they walked in this Land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more remote from the Kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near to the City, they had yet a more perfect view thereof. It was builded of Pearls and precious Stones, also the Street thereof was paved with Gold, so that by reason of the natural glory of the City, and the reflection of the Sun-beams upon it. Christian, with desire fell sick, Hopeful also had a fit or two of the same Disease. Wherefore here they lay by it a while, crying out because of their pangs. If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of lo'be.

But being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were Orchards, Vineyards and Gardens, and their Gates opened into the High-way. Now as they came up to these places, behold the Gardener stood in the way; to whom the Pilgrims said. Whose goodly Vineyards and Gardens are these ? He answered. They are the King's, and are planted here for his own delights, and also for the Solace of Pilgrims. So the Gardener had them into the Vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with Dainties. He also shewed them there the King's walks, and the Arbors where he delighted to be. -And here they tarried and slept.

Now I beheld in my Dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this time, than ever they did in all their Journey ; and being in a muse thereabout, the Gardener said even to me Wherefore musest thou at the matter ? It is the nature of the fruit of the Grapes of these Vine- yards to go down so sweetly, as to cause the lips of them that are asleep to speak.

So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the City. But, as I said, the reflections of the Sun upon the City (for the City was pure Gold) was so extremely glorious, that they could not, as yet, with open face behold it, but through an Instrument made for that purpose. So I saw, that as they went on, there met them two men, in Raiment that shone like Gold, also their faces shone as the light.

172

3"

V

Q

99 O

3"

ii

These men asked the Pilgrims whence they came ? and they told them ; they also asked them. Where they had lodg'd, what difficulties, and dangers, what comforts and pleasures they had met in the way ? and they told them. Then said the men that met them, You have but two difficulties more to meet with, and then you are in the City.

Christian then and his Companion asked the men to go along with them, so they told them they would ; but, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my Dream that they went on together till they came in sight of the Gate.

Now I further saw that betwixt them and the Gate was a River, but there was no Bridge to go over, the River was very deep. At the sight therefore of this River, the Pilgrims were much stounded ; but the men that went with them, said. You must go through, or you cannot come at the Gate.

The Pilgrims then began to enquire if there was no other way to the Gate ; to which they answered. Yes, but there hath not any, save two, to wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path, since

174

*^'^' "■ nriK

{

v'iSS

^ •

the foundation of the World, nor shall, until the last Trumpet shall sound. The Pilgrims, then, especially Christian, began to dispond in his mind, and looked this way and that, but no way could be found by them, by which they might escape the River. Then they asked the men, if the Waters were all of a depth? They said. No; yet they could not help them in that Case, for said they : You shall find it deeper or shalloiuer, as you believe in the King of the place.

They then addressed themselves to the Water ; and entring. Chris- tian began to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful he said, I sink in deep Waters, the Billows go over my head, all his Waves go over me, Selah,

Then said the other. Be of good cheer, my Brother, I feel the bot- tom, and it is good. Then said Christian, Ah my friend, the sorrows of death have compassed me about, I shall not see the Land that flows with Milk and Honey. And with that, a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him ; also here he in great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember nor orderly talk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his Pilgrimage. But all the words that he spake still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and hearty fears that he should die in that River, and never obtain entrance in at the Gate : here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and before he began to be a Pilgrim. 'Twas also observed, that he was troubled with apparitions of Hobgoblins and Evil Spirits. For ever and anon he would intimate so much by words. Hopeful therefore here had much ado to keep his Brother's head above water, yea sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then ere a while he would rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would endeavour to comfort him, say- ing. Brother, I see the Gate, and men standing by it to receive us. But Christian would answer : 'Tis you, 'tis you they wait for, you have been Hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have you, said he to Christian. Ah Brother, said he, surely if I was right, he would now arise to help me ; but for my sins he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful, My Brother, you have quite forgot the Text, where it's said of the wicked. There is no band in their death, but their strength is firm : they are not troubled as other

175

men, neither are they plagued like other men. These troubles and dis- tresses that you go through in these Waters, are no sign that God hath forsaken you, but are sent to try you, whether you will call to mind that which heretofore you have received of his goodness, and live upon him in your distresses.

Then I saw in my Dream, that Christian was in a muse a while ; to whom also Hopeful added this word. Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee luhole: And with that. Christian brake out with a loud voice. Oh, I see him again ! and he tells me. When thou passest through the waters, Itbill be 'ti>ith thee, and through the Rivers, they shall not overflow thee. Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon ; and so it followed that the rest of the River was but shallow. Thus they got over. Now upon the bank of the River, on the other side, they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them. Wherefore being come up out of the River, they saluted them saying, We are ministring Spirits, sent forth to minister for those that shall be Heirs of Salvation. Thus they went along towards the Gate. Now you must note that the City stood upon a mighty hill, but the Pilgrims went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the Arms ; also they had left their Mortal Garments behind them in the River ; for though they went in with them, they came out with- out them. They therefore went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation upon which the City was framed was higher than the Clouds. They therefore went up through the regions of the Air, sweetly talking as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the River, and had such glorious Companions to attend them. The talk they had with the shining Ones, was about the Glory of the place, who told them, that the beauty, and glory of it was inex- pressible. There, said they, is the Mount Sion, the Wzaytnly Jerusa- lem, the innumerable company of Angels, and the Spirits of Just men made perfect. You are going now, said they, to the Paradise of God, wherein you shall see the Tree of Life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof : and when you come there you shall have white Robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of Eternity. There you shall not see again such

m:y^.

w ^

-^■RS

23

things as you saw when you were in the lower Region upon the Earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death, for the former things are passed aivay. You are going now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the Prophets ; men that God hath taken away from the evil to come, and that are now resting upon their Beds, each one walking in his righteousness. The men then asked, What must we do in the holy place ? To whom it was answered. You must there receive the comfort of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow ; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your Prayers and Tears, and sufferings for the King by the way. In that place you must wear Crowns of Gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and Visions of the Holy One, for there you shall see him as he is. . There also you shall serve him continually with praise, with shouting and thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the World, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again, that are got thither before you ; and there you shall with joy receive even every one that follows into the Holy Place after you. There also you shall be cloathed 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 shall come with him ; and when he shall sit upon the Throne of Judgment, you shall sit by him; yea, and when he shall pass Sentence upon all the workers 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 return to the City, you shall go too, with sound of Trumpet, and be ever with him.

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 shining 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 unto the Marriage supper of the Lamb :

178

m

^"^<:^^

mm

From above looked over the Gate, Enoch, Moses, and Elijah.

There came out also at this time to meet them several of the Kings Trumpeters, cloathed in white and shining Raiment, who with melo- dious noises and loud, made even the Heavens to echo with their sound. These Trumpeters saluted Christian 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 'twere to guard them through the upper Regions) 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 it self 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 Musick with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his Brother, how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them. And now were these two men, as 'twere, in Heaven, before they came at it ; being swallowed up with the sight of Angels, and with hearing of 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 ? And thus they came up to the Gate.

Now when they were come up to the Gate, there was written over

179

'/'..•:'■■•'

/

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 shining men bid them call at the Gate; the which when they did, some from above looked over the Gate, to wit, Enoch, cMoses, and Elijah, etc. 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 therefore were carried in to the King, who when he had read them, said. Where are the men ? 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, that keepeth truth may enter in.

Now I saw in my Dream, that these two men went in at the Gate ; and lo, as they entered, they were transfigured, and they had Ra- ment put on that shone like Gold. There was also that met them with Harps and Crowns, and gave them to them ; the Harp to praise withal, and the Crowns in token of honor. Then I heard in my Dream that all the Bells in the City Rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them, Enter ye into the joy of your Lord. I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying. Bless- ing, Honour, Glory, and Poiver, be to him that sitteth upon the Throne, and to the Lamb for e^er and ever.

"Hoi^ just as the 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 shut up the Gates : which when I had seen, I wished myself 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

180

The Kingf then commanded to open the Gate.

Vain-hope a Ferryman,

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 encouragement. When he was come up to the Gate, he looked up to the writing that was above ; and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him. But he was asked Ly the men that lookt over the top of the Gate, Whence came you ? and what would you have ? He answered, I have eat and drank 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 shew it to the King. So he fumbled in his bosom for one, and found none. Then said they. Have you none? But the man answered never a word. So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but com- manded 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

182

n'«'I

/;>

The Conclusion.

Noiv Reader, I have told my Dream to thee ; See if thou canst Interpret it to me; Or to thyself, or Neighbor : but take heed Of mis-interpreting ; for that, instead Of doing good, ivill but thyself abuse : By mis-interpreting efbil insues.

Take heed also, that thou be not exfream. In playing ivith the out-side 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 ivithin my Vail; Turn up my Metaphors and do not fail There, if thou seekest them, such things to find. As Tbill be helpful to an honest mind.

What of my dross thou findest there, be bold To throiv al^ay, but yet preserve the Gold. What if my Gold be ivrapped up in Ore ? None throivs aivay 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.

184

PrincFlon Theological Seminaty-Spper Library

1 1012 0

117 9456

DATE DUE

PRINTED IN U.S.A.

• • A I