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HE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


BUNYAN 


'    •    ,  ' 

• 

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A'oy:  FALLS  \i>ox  CHIUSTIAN. 
(See  pay e  T2.) 


OXFORD   EDITION 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


BY 


JOHN  BUNYAN 


WITH   BIOGRAPHICAL    INTRODUCTION 
AND  NEW  INDEX 


ILLUSTRATED   WITH   25   DRAWINGS 
BY  GEORGE  CRUIKSHANK 


HENRY  FROWDE 
OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON,  NEW  YORK,  TORONTO  AND  MELBOURNE 

1912 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PART  I 

APOLLYON  FALLS  UPON  CHRISTIAN     .          .          .          Frontispiece 

CHRISTIAN  BREAKS  OUT  WITH  A  LAMENTABLE  CRY  .          .      Page  11 

CHRISTIAN  FLEES  FROM  THE  CITY  OF  DESTRUCTION    .          .  15 

HELP  LIFTS  CHRISTIAN  OUT  OF  THE  SLOUGH  OF  DISPOND  .  20 

EVANGELIST  FINDS  CHRISTIAN  UNDER  MOUNT  SINAI  .         .  25 

CHRISTIAN  AT  THE  WICKET-GATE     .....  32 

THE  DUSTY  PARLOUR  IN  THE  INTERPRETER'S  HOUSE          .  38 

x*N  r 

""^CHRISTIAN  LOSES  HIS  BURDEN  AT  THE  CROSS     ...       47 
CHRISTIAN  RECEIVES  HIS  ROLL  .....       49 

CHRISTIAN  PASSES  THE  LIONS  IN  THE  WAY         ...       57 
THE  FLIGHT  OF  APOLLYON       ......       73 

THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH         ...        79 
CHRISTIAN  GOES  UNHURT  BY  GIANT  POPE          ...       83 
Y  FAIR  .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .109 

THE  CRUEL  DEATH  OF  FAITHFUL    .         .         ...         .119 

THE  PILGRIMS  SEE  A  STRANGE  MONUMENT        .         .         .     133 
GIANT  DESPAIR  BEATS  HIS  PRISONERS       .         .         .         .141 

CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL  IN  THE  KING'S  VINEYARDS          .     185 
PILGRIMS  PASSING  THROUGH  THE  RIVER  OF  DEATH    .      187 


PART  II 

* 

CHRISTIANA  INSTRUCTED  BY  SECRET  .         .         .         .         . 

MERCY  AT  THE  GATE      .......  227 

THE  FIGHT  BETWIXT  GRIM  AND  GREAT-HEART          .         .  261 

THE  MONUMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  VICTORY          .         .         .  287 

THE  MONSTER  BELABOURED      ....  .  329 

GIANT  DESPAIR  SLAIN  AND  DOUBTING  CASTLE  DEMOLISHED  337 


BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

BY   EDMUND   VENABLES,   M.A. 

Late  Precentor  and  Canon  of  Lincoln. 

REVISED  BY  Miss  MABEL  PEACOCK. 

HHE  birthplace  of  John  Bunyan  was  .Elstow,  a  small 
JL  village  rather  more  than  a  mile  to  the  south  of  the  town 
of  Bedford.  The  original  form  of  the  name  of  Elstow  was 
Ellen-stow.,  the  stow  l  or  place  of  St.  Helen,  one  of  our  few 
early  British  saints,  the  mother  of  the  Emperor  Constantine, 
under  whose  patronage  the  village  was  originally  placed. 
Elstow  was  the  seat  of  a  Benedictine  nunnery,  founded  in 

•/  ^ 

1078  by  Judith,  niece  to  William  the  Conqueror,  and  -widow 
of  Waltheof,  Earl  of  Huntingdon  ;  and  Elstow  nunnery,  or 
abbey,  continued  to  rank  among  the  most  wealthy  of  similar 
foundations  till  the  Dissolution.  The  abbey  was  surrendered 
to  the  crown  Aug.  26JK^£40V,  The  sisters  had  pensions  granted 
to  them  out  of  the  estates,  and  several  of  them  continued 
to  live  quietly  close  to  their  old  home  in  the  town  of  Bedford. 
The  register  of  the  united  parishes  of  St.  Mary  and  St.  Peter 
Dunstaple  in  that  town  contains  the  entry  of  the  burial  of 
four  of  them.  The  monastic  property  passed  to  Sir  Humphrey 
Ratcliffe,  brother  to  the  Earl  of  Sussex,  who  made  the  convent 
his  place  of  residence.  He  died  there  in  1566,  and  was  buried 
in  the  chancel.  From  the  Ratcliifes  the  property  passed  to 
the  Hillersdens,  by  whom  a  mansion  was  erected  early  in  the 
seventeenth  century,  which  must  have  been  a  grand  new 
house  in  Bunyan's  early  days.  The  ivy-clad  ruins  form 
a  picturesque  feature  on  the  south  side  of  the  church. 
Attached  to  the  south-west  corner  is  a  beautiful  little  apart- 
ment of  the  fourteenth  century,  vaulted  from  a  central  pillar, 

1  The  Anglo-Saxon  stow*  a  dwelling-place  or  habitation,  forms  an 
element  in  many  local  names. 

A3 


x  BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

•which  may  have   been  the   chapter-house.     The   church,  so 
intimately  connected  with   Bimyan's  history,  which  is   only 

ti 

the  nave  of  the  abbey  church,  is  a  building  of  unusual  loftiness 
'-and  dignity,  partly  rude  Norman,  partly  Early  English,  with 
five  well-proportioned  arches,  and  an  Early  English  cleres- 
tory. The  octagonal  font,  in  which  we  may  conclude  that 
John  Bunyan  was  himself  baptized,  as  we  learn  from  the 
parish  registers  his  two  daughters,  Mary  (his  beloved  blind 
child)  (July  20,  1650)  and  Elizabeth  (April  14, 1654)  certainly 
were,  stands  at  the  west  door,  but  originally  stood  in  the 
north  aisle,  facing  the  entrance  door.  The  seat  assigned  by 
long-standing  tradition  to  John  Bunyan  is  an  old  open  oaken 
bench  in  the  north  aisle,  facing  the  pulpit,  and  polished  by 
the  hands  of  the  thousands  of  visitors  yearly  attracted  to  this 
little  village  by  the  fame  of  the  tinker  of  Elstow,  As  the 
seat  now  faces  south  instead  of  east,  it  must  have  been  moved 
from  its  original  position.  The  pulpit,  of  a  pentagonal  form, 
must  be  looked  on  with  no  common  interest,  as  that  from 
which  the  sermon  was  preached  by  Christopher  Hall,  the 
then  ( parson '  of  Elstow,  which  first  awoke  Bunyan's  slumber- 
ing conscience.  The  tower,  or  (  steeple-house,'  the  scene  of 
Bunyan's  bell-ringing  exploits,  as  well  as  of  the  fierce  struggles 
of  conscience  so  graphically  described,  is  a  massive  detached 
structure  strongly  buttressed,  standing  twenty-one  feet  from 
the  church  at  its  north-west  corner.  It  is  of  late  Perpendicular 
work,  built  after  the  destruction  of  the  central  tower  and 
choir  of  the  monastic  church.  The  five  bells  that  hang  in 
it  are  the  same  in  which  Bunyan  so  much  delighted.  Tra- 
dition says  that  the  fourth  bell  is  the  one  he  was  accustomed 
to  ring.  The  rough  flagged  floor,  all  worn  and  broken  with 
the  hobnailed  boots  of  generations  of  ringers,  happily  remains 
undisturbed.  The  '  steeple-door '  is  in  all  respects  the  same 
as  when  he  used  to  stand  in  it,  hoping  ( if  a  bell  should  fall ' 
he  could  '  slip  out '  safely  behind  the  thick  walls,  which  show 
as  little  tendency  to  ruin  as  in  Bunyan's  days. 

•/  *  * 

The  church  stands  on  the  south  side  of  the   tillage  green, 


BUNYAN'S  PARENTAGE  xi 

a  wide  expanse  of  turf,  very  little  altered  either  in  its 
character  or  surroundings  from  the  time  when  John  Bunyan 
was  the  ringleader  of  all  the  youth  of  the  place  in  the  dances 
on  the  sward,  '  tipcat/  and  the  other  sports  which  his  morbid 
conscience  afterwards  regarded  as  '  ungodly  practices.'  Few 
villages  are  so  little  modernized  as  Elstow.  The  old  half- 
timbered  cottages  with  overhanging  storeys,  gabled  porches 
and  peaked  dormers,  tapestried  with  roses  and  honeysuckles, 
must  be  much  the  same  as  in  the  days  of  the  Commonwealth, 
On  the  green  may  still  be  seen  the  stump  of  the  ancient 
market  cross,  and  at  the  upper  end  is  a  quaint  old  brick 
and  timber  building,  with  well-carved  corner-posts  and  spars 
supporting  the  jutting  upper-storey,  which  in  former  days, 
when  Elstow  was  a  more  important  place  than  now,  served 
as  a  market-house,  or  moot-hall.  In  the  large  upper  room 
the  village  dancers  held  their  revels  when  the  cold  of  winter 
drove  them  in  from  the  green.  The  cottage  where  Bunyan 
was  born,  if  its  site  was  ever  accurately  known,  has  long  since 
passed  away.  That  occupied  by  him  after  his  first  marriage, 
and  where  his  children  were  born,  is  still  standing,  but  modern 
repairs  have  robbed  it  of  all  its  picturesqueiiess. 

John  Bunyan  was  born  in  the  year  l62JL-a  year  remarkable 
in  English  history  for  the  '  Petition  of  Right,'  and  the  assassi- 
nation of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  His  father  was  a  tinker 
(f  a  mender  of  pots  and  kettles,'  writes  Charles  Doe),  or  what 
we  should  now  call  a  '  whitesmith,'  or  '  brazier,'  for  he  had 
a  settled  home  at  Elstow.  Still,  as  we  know  from  con- 
temporary literature,  his  calling  was  low  and  disreputable, 
'of  that  rank,'  in  his  own  words,  'that  is  the  meanest  and 
most  despised  in  the  land.'  Although  the  surname  of  Bunyan 
has  now  almost  died  out  in  Bedfordshire,  it  is  of  long-standing 
tjaere,  and  was  at  one  time  very  common l.  This  effectually 


1  Dr.  Brown  has  proved  from  the  evidence  of  assize-rolls,  manorial 
court-rolls,  wills,  and  other  historical  documents,  that  at  one  time  the 
Bunyans  were  a  yeoman  family  of  good  position.  John  Bunyan:  His 
Life,  Times,  and  Work,  by  John  Brown,  B.A.,  D.D. 


xii  BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

dispels  the  idea,  alluded  to  with  favour  by  Sir  Walter  Scott, 
that  Bunyan  was  of  gypsy  descent,  to  establish  which  a  good 
deal  of  misdirected  learning  and  research  has  been  employed. 
Bunyan's  inquiry  of  his  father  whether  he  was  descended  from 
the  Israelites  or  not,  is  entirely  beside  the  mark  ;  for  there  is 
no  reason  to  suppose  that  he  could  have  had  any  acquaintance 
with  the  strange  hallucination  that  the  gypsies  are  to  be 
regarded  as  the  representatives  of  the  ten  lost  tribes.  The 
name  Bunyan  appeared  in  many  different  forms  in  those  days 
of  unsettled  orthography  and  phonetic  spelling.  Bunyan 
himself  spelt  it  in  several  different  wrays.  In  the  parish 
register  of  Elstow  we  find  Bonion,  Bunion,  Bonyon,  Bunyon, 
and  Bunyan.  The  last  form,  which  has  become  universally 
accepted,  is  certainly  the  least  frequent. 

Poor  as  his  parents  were  they  did  not  neglect  to  send  their 
son  John  to  school.  However,  he  learnt  but  little,  and  that 
little  he  confesses  with  shame  he  soon  lost,  '  almost  utterly.' 
His  hand-writing,  as  exhibited  in  the  margin  of  the  copy  of 
Fox's  Acts  and  Monuments,  which  was  his  companion  in  prison, 
is  a  vile  scrawl,  on  a  par  with  the  badness  of  the  spelling 
and  the  rudeness  of  his  doggerel  rhymes.  His  boyhood  was 
spent  in  his  native  village,  where  he  grew  up  what  Coleridge 
calls  '  a  bitter  blackguard ' ;  having,  according  to  his  own 
confession,  '  but  few  equals '  even  when  a  child  '  for  cursing, 
swearing,  lying,  and  blaspheming  the  name  of  God.'  The 
unmeasured  language  in  which  he  laments  his  youthful  mis- 
deeds has  led  to  a  very  mistaken  estimate  of  his  character, 
which,  handed  on  from  one  writer  to  another  until  it  became 
almost  a  matter  of  faith,  Southey  was  the  first  to  demolish. 
'  The  wickedness  of  the  tinker,'  he  writes,  '  has  been  greatly 
overcharged,  and  it  is  taking  the  language  of  self-accusation 
too  literally  to  pronounce  of  John  Bunyan  that  lie  was  at 
any  time  depraved.'  It  is  certain  from  his  own  solemn 
declaration  when,  at  a  later  period  of  his  life,  charges  of 
immorality  wTere  brought  against  him,  that  lie  was  entirely 
guiltless  of  sins  of  impurity.  There  is  not  a  shadow  of 


YOUTHFUL   PURSUITS  xiii 

evidence  that  he  was  ever  drunk  in  his  life.  He  acknow- 
ledges to  a  habit  of  profane  swearing,  acquired  when  a  child, 
and  indulged  in  without  restraint  till  after  his  marriage,  so 
that  he  became  celebrated  as  '  a  town-swearer ' ;  shocking 
those  who  were  by  no  means  spotless  themselves  with  the 
abundance  and  vehemence  of  his  oaths.  But  the  offences 
of  which  he  speaks  with  the  deepest  self-condemnation  were 
the  very  venial  crimes  of  dancing,  bell-ringing,  ballad-reading, 
and  an  eagerness  for  all  kinds  of  sports  and  pastimes.  True 
they  were  practised  on  the  Sunday.  According  to  the 
standard  of  the  Book  of  Sports,  however,  that  was  a  merit 
rather  than  a  crime.  But  while  to  the  ordinary  observer 
Bunyan  would  only  be  known  as  a  gay,  daring  young  fellow, 
the  ringleader  at  wake  or  merrymaking,  ready,  in  Coleridge's 
words,  ( to  curse  his  own  or  his  companions'  eyes  on  slight  or 
no  provocation,  and  fond  of  a  row,'  from  his  earliest  years  his 
inner  life,  known  only  to  himself,  had  been  of  a  very  different 
complexion.  While  still  a  child,  fbut  nine  or  ten  years  old/1 
he  was  racked  with  convictions  of  sin  and  haunted  with 
religious  terrors.  He  specially  mentions  c  the  fearful  dreams 
and  dreadful  visions '  wrhich  scared  and  affrighted  him  in  his 
childhood,  and  '  the  apprehension  of  devils  and  wicked  spirits' 
coming  to  carry  him  off  which  made  his  bed  a  place  of 
terrors.  The  thought  of  the  Day  of  Judgement  and  the 
doom  of  the  ungodly  crushed  his  spirit.  In  the  midst  of  his 
games  and  pastimes  with  other  boys — '  vain  companions  '  his 
morbid  feelings  led  him  to  call  them — the  recollection  of 
these  nightly  horrors  threw  a  cloud  over  his  merriment. 
But  it  was  only  a  passing  shadow.  After  a  while  his  feverish 
dreams  left  him,  and  the  youthful  pleasures  to  which  he  gave 
himself  up  unrestrainedly  quickly  cut  off  all  remembrance  of 
them  as  if  they  had  never  been.  They,  however,  left  their 
mark,  and  helped  to  shape  his  mind,  which  was  naturally  one 
of  powerful  imagination  and  vivid  susceptibility,  for  the  task 
which  has  made  him  famous. 

The  preservation  of  his  life,  more  than  once  under  oireum- 


xiv          BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

stances  of  imminent  danger — 'judgements  mixed  with  mercy  ' 
as  he  afterwards  termed  them — deepened  the  undercurrent 
of  religious  feeling.  Twice  he  fell  into  the  water  and  hardly 
escaped  drowning.  At  another  time  his  reckless  daring 
brought  him,  as  he  mistakenly  thought,  near  being  stung 
to  death  by  an  adder.  But  that  which  made  the  greatest 
impression  upon  him — '  which,'  says  his  anonymous  biographer, 
'  Mr.  Bunyan  would  often  mention,  but  never  without  thanks- 
giving to  God' — was  the  one  incident  preserved  to  us  from 
his  life  as  a  soldier.  It  is  best  told  in  his  own  words — 
fWhen  I  wras  a  soldier  I  with  others  were  drawn  out  to  so  to 

O 

such  a  place  to  besiege  it.  But  when  I  was  just  ready  to  go, 
one  of  the  company  desired  to  go  in  my  room  ;  to  which  when 
I  consented  he  took  my  place,  and  coming  to  the  siege,  as  he 
stood  sentinel,  lie  was  shot  in  the  head  with  a  musket  bullet 
and  died.'  We  wish  he  had  told  us  more.  The  name  of  the 
besieged  place,  and  even  the  cause  for  which  he  took  up  arms, 
are  left  in  complete  obscurity.  In  the  absence  of  definite 
information  fancy  has  taken  the  place  of  fact,  and  a  historical 
fabric  has  been  built  on  a  very  sandy  foundation.  Leicester 

•/  » 

being  the  only  town  of  the  siege  of  which  we  have  any  certain 
evidence  at  this  time  suggested  that  it  might  have  been  the 
place  referred  to  by  Bunyan.  An  examination  of  the  military 
history  of  the  campaign,  as  has  been  shown  by  Dr.  Brown  l, 
leads  to  a  very  different  conclusion,  and  proves  that  it  is  most 
improbable  that  a  levy  from  Bedford  should  have  served  at 
Leicester,  especially  on  the  Royalist  side 2. 

When  Bunyan's  military  career  was  over  he  soon  returned 
to  his  native  village,  and  '  presently  afterwards  changed  his 
condition  into  a  married  state.'  The  date  of  this,  his  first 

1  Book  of  the  Jhmyan  Festival,  pp.  4-7. 

2  In  1896  Mr.  E!  G.  Atkinson,  of  the  Public  Record  Office,  dis- 
covered there  a  volume  containing  the  muster-rolls  of  the  parliamentary 
garrison  of  Newport  Pagnell.     John  Bunyan's  name  appears  in  these 
lists.     On  November  30,  1644,  he  was  a  private,  or,  as  it  was  then 
termed,  a  '  centinel,'  in  the  company  commanded  by  Colonel  Richard 


EARLY   MARRIAGE  xv 

marriage,  is  not  known,  but  it  seems  to  have  been  at  the 
end  of  1648  or  the  beginning  of  1649,  when  he  was  not 
much  more  than  twenty  years  of  age.  His  marriage  was 
a  most  imprudent  one  in  all  respects  but  one.  He  had 
nothing,  and  his  wife  was  as  ill-provided  writh  worldly  goods 
as  himself — e  as  poor  as  poor  might  be/  c  as  poor  as  owlets/ 
to  adopt  his  own  image — without  'so  much  household  stuff 
as  a  dish  or  spoon  between  them.'  But  though  not  seeking 
it  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  light  on  a  wife,  whose  '  father 
while  he  liVed  was  counted  godly/  who  brought  to  her  new 
home  two  pious  books,  as  well  as  the  fruits  of  a  religious 
training.  Such  books  would  be  entirely  new  reading  to  John 
Bunyan.  Like  most  young  fellows  of  his  temperament,  before 
his  wife's  loving  influence  had  won  him  to  more  serious 
thoughts,,  he  had  found  religious  books  distasteful.  fThe 
Scriptures/  thought  I,  '  what  are  they  ?  a  dead  letter,  a  little 
ink  and  paper  of  three  or  four  shillings  price.  Give  me 
a  ballad,  a  news  book,  George  on  horseback,  or  Bevis  of 
Southampton  ;  give  me  some  book  that  teaches  curious  arts, 
that  tells  of  old  fables1.'  These  books  which  Bunyan  and 

Cockayne.  On  March  22,  1645,  he  appears  in  the  list  of  Major 
Boulton's  company  ;  and  he  was  regularly  mustered  in  Major  Boulton's 
company  up  to  May  27,  1645.  His  presence  at  Newport  on  May  27, 
1645,  renders  the  theory  that  he  was  at  the  siege  of  Leicester  im- 
possible. According  to  Mr.  Atkinson,  Bunyan  was  still  a  member 
of  one  of  the  companies  belonging  to  the  Newport  garrison  as  late  as 
June  17,  1647.  His  military  service,  therefore,  lasted  about  three 
years. 

Facsimiles  of  the  muster-rolls  containing  Bunyan's  name  are  given 
in  The  Presbyterian  for  March  3,  1898. 

Colonel  Richard  Cockayne,  under  whom  Bunyan  served,  appears 
to  have  been  a  Bedfordshire  man  of  some  note.  See  Ed.  Husband, 
A  Collection  of  Orders,  Ordinances,  and  Declarations,  1646  (vol.  ii), 
p.  193  ;  Whitelock,  Memorials,  ed.  1732,  p.  168 ;  ed.  1853,  vol.  i.  p. 
501.  A  book  entitled  Cockayne  Memoranda,  printed  for  private 
circulation  in  1869  at  Congleton,  contains  an  account  of  the  various 
branches  of  the  Cockayne  family.  A  second  volume  of  the  work  by 
the  same  author,  A.  E.  Cockayne,  appeared  in  1873. 

1  Sighs  from  Hell -,  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  501,  ed.  1767. 


xvi  BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

his  young  wife  read  together  over  the  fireside  awoke  the 
slumbering  sense  of  religion  in  his  heart,  and  produced 
some  external  reformation.  A  sermon  on  the  sin  of  Sabbath- 
breaking,  aimed,  as  he  imagined,  expressly  at  him,  sent  him 
home  conscience  stricken,  '  sermon  smitten,'  and  '  sermon 
sick,'  as  he  expresses  it  elsewhere.  But  his  Sunday's  dinner, 
and  perhaps  a  glass  of  good  ale,  ^oon  dispelled  his  gloom, 
and  he  went  out  as  before  to  play  with  the  young  men 
of  Elstow  on  the  village  green.  Yet  in  the  midst  of  his 
game  of  tipcat  or  c  sly '  he  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  from 
heaven  asking  him  whether  he  wrould  leave  his  sins  and  go 
to  heaven,  or  keep  his  sins  and  go  to  hell  ;  and  thought  he 
saw  a  threatening  Face  frowning  down  on  him  from  the 
clouds.  But,  like  his  own  Hopeful,  he  ( shut  his  eyes  against 
the  light'  and  smothered  the  reproaching  voice,  and,  con- 
cluding that  his  condemnation  was  already  sealed,  and  that 
if  he  was  to  be  eternally  lost  he  might  as  well  have  his  fill 
of  pleasure  first,  he  returned  desperately  to  his  sport  again. 
This  despair  and  recklessness  lasted  with  him  about  a  month 
or  more,  till  one  day  as  he  wras  standing  at  a  neighbour's 
shop-window,  cursing  and  swearing,  and  playing  the  madman 
after  his  wonted  manner,  the  woman  of  the  house,  though 
'  a  very  loose  and  ungodly  wretch,'  rebuked  him  so  severely 
.as  fthe  ugliest  fellow  for  swearing  that  ever  she  heard,'  that 
he  hung  down  his  head  with  shame,  and,  though  he  still 
thought  himself  beyond  hope  of  salvation,  he  then  and  there 
gave  up  the  evil  habit. 

Soon  after  this  the  company  of  a  poor  godly  neighbour  led 
him  to  the  study  of  the  Bible,  the  historical  parts  of  which  he 
perused  with  much  interest.  St.  Paul's  Epistles  and  fsuch 
like  scriptures '  he  (  could  not  away  with.'  This  Bible  reading 
forwarded  the  reformation  of  life  already  begun.  '  In  out- 
ward things/  writes  Lord  Macaulay,  '  ho  soon  became  a  strict 
Pharisee';  ' a  poor  painted  hypocrite'  he  calls  himself.  He 
was  constant  in  attendance  at  prayers  and  sermons,  and  joined 
devoutly  in  the  service,  looking  with  the  utmost  reverence 


A  STRANGER  TO  VITAL  RELIGION      xvii 

on  the  Church  and  all  belonging  to  it,  f  priest,  clerk,  vestment, 
service,  and  what  else.'  His  favourite  amusements  were  one 
after  another  given  up,  though  not  without  severe  struggles. 
Bell-ringing  was  one  of  the  hardest  to  relinquish,  and,  after 
he  had  renounced  it,  he  still  went  to  look  on  at  the  ringers 
until  the  fear  that,  if  he  persisted  in  sanctioning  what  his 
conscience  condemned,  a  bell  or  the  tower  itself  would  fall  on 
his  head,  compelled  him  to  forgo  even  that  compromise. 
Dancing  was  still  harder  to  give  up.  It  was  a  full  year  before 
he  could  quite  leave  that. 

But  writh  all  his  sacrifices,  which  gained  him  great  peace 
of  conscience  and  supreme  self-satisfaction,  the  conversation 
of  a  few  poor  women,  whom  he  overheard  one  day  at  Bedford 
when  engaged  in  his  tinker's  craft,  sitting  at  a  door  in  the  sun 
and  talking  of  the  things  of  God,  showed  him  that  he  was 
still  a  stranger  to  vital  religion.  They  were  members  of 
the  congregation  of  Mr.  John  Gifford,  who,  from  being  one 
of  the  most  debauched  of  the  Royalist  officers,  had  become 
minister  of  a  Nonconformist  Church  at  Bedford.  He  himself 
had  been  (  a  brisk  talker '  in  the  matters  of  religion,  such 
as  he  afterwards  drew  from  the  life  in  his  own  '  Talkative.' 
Their  words,  spoken  with  'such  pleasantness,  and  such 
appearance  of  grace,'  opened  c  a  new  world '  to  him  to  which 
he  had  been  altogether  a  stranger.  He  went  again  and  again 
into  their  company,  and  could  not  stay  away.  Religion  be- 
came all  in  all  to  him.  His  mind  ( lay  fixed  on  eternity  like 
a  Horse-leech  at  the  vein.'  The  Bible  became  c precious'  to 
him,  and  wras  read  with  new  eyes  ;  but  through  his  ignorance, 
and  the  want  of  wise  spiritual  guidance,  he  was  led  by  a 
misinterpretation  of  its  words  into  strange  fantasies,  the  wild 
coinage  of  his  own  brain,  which  went  near  to  unsettle  his 
intellect.  He  became  the  victim  of  his  own  ingenuity  in 
self-torment.  At  one  time  the  stress  laid  on  faith  as  the 
essential  requisite  for  salvation  awoke  a  restless  longing  to 
determine  whether  he  had  faith  or  not.  The  test  would  be 
his  ability  to  work  miracles,  and  the  temptation  came  strong 


xviii        BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

upon  him  as  he  was  going  along  the  muddy  road  between 
Elstow  and  Bedford,,  to  say  to  the  puddles  '  Be  dry,'  and  to 
the  dry  places  '  Be  ye  puddles/  and  to  stake  his  hope  of 
salvation  on  the  issue.  At  another  time  he  was  harassed 
with  the  insoluble  questions  about  predestination  and  election. 
(  How  could  he  tell  if  he  was  elected  ?  and  if  not,  what  then  ? ' 
He  might  as  well  leave  off  and  strive  no  further. 

Few  of  his  religious  experiences  were  the  cause  of  more 
lasting  trouble  to  him  than  a  dream  which  he  describes  with 
much  vividness,  and  which  gives  us  a  kind  of  prevision  of 
the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  In  this  he  saw  some  enjoying  them- 
selves in  the  sunshine  on  one  side  of  a  high  mountain,  while 
he  was  shivering  in  the  dark  and  cold  on  the  other,  and  shut 
out  from  them  by  a  high  wall,  with  only  a  small  gap  in  it 
which  he  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in  struggling  through. 
Stranger  fantasies  still  assailed  him.  '  All  thought  their  own 
religion  true.  Might  not  the  Turks  have  as  good  ground 
for  thinking  Mahomet  their  Saviour  as  the  Christians  had 
for  Jesus  Christ  ?  What  if  all  we  believed  in  should  be  but 
"a  think-so  too?'  He  had  hard  work  to  hinder  himself 
from  praying  to  everything  about  him,  to  the  bushes,  to 
a  broom,  to  a  bull,  or  even  to  Satan  himself.  He  wished 
himself  a  dog  or  a  toad  which  had  no  soul  to  perish,  and 
when  he  would  have  given  a  thousand  pounds  for  a  tear  could 
not  shed  one.  He  was  pursued  by  a  hideous  temptation  to 
blaspheme  God  and  Christ  and  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  to 
commit  the  unpardonable  sin.  At  last  he  believed  he  had 
committed  it,  and  a  good  but  not  over-wise  man  whom  he 
consulted  on  his  sad  case  told  him  '  he  verily  believed  he 
had.'  The  perusal  of  a  copy  of  Luther's  Comment  on  the 
Galatians  which  fell  into  his  hands,  '  so  old  that  it  was  ready 
to  fall  to  pieces  if  he  did  but  turn  it  over,'  proved  a  balm  for 
his  wounded  conscience,  for  it  seemed  e  written  out  of  his  own 
heart,'  and  awoke  a  burning  love  for  his  Saviour.  But  the 
joy  and  peace  were  but  transient.  ( The  tempter  came  on 
him  again,  and  that  with  a  more  grievous  and  dreadful 


SPIRITUAL  DISEASE  xix 

temptation  than  before.'  This  crisis  of  his  spiritual  disease 
came  in  an  almost  irresistible  impulse  to  give  up  his  Saviour 
and  all  share  in  his  redemption.  Wherever  he  was,  whatever 
he  was  doing,  day  and  night,  in  bed,  at  table,  at  work,  a  voice 
would  sound  in  his  ears  bidding  him  e  sell  Christ '  for  some 
earthly  good.  At  length,  utterly  worn  out  by  the  torturing 
suggestions  of  his  mind,  he  let  the  fatal  words  slip  from 
him,  as  he  lay  on  his  bed,  flet  Him  go  if  He  will.'  This 
to  his  diseased  imagination  sealed  his  doom.  He  had  sold 
his  birthright  like  Esau  ;  he  had  betrayed  his  Lord  like  Judas. 
There  wras  no  longer  any  place  for  repentance.  He  was  past 
all  recovery,  and  bound  over  to  eternal  punishment. 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  his  health  gave  wrav  in 

O  ti 

such  a  lengthened  struggle.  His  sturdy  frame  was  seized 
with  a  constant  trembling.  He  would  wind  and  twist  and 
shrink  under  his  burden.  His  digestion  became  disordered, 
and  the  pain  was  so  violent  that  it  seemed  as  if  his  breast- 
bone would  have  split  asunder.  His  overwrought  fancy 
suggested  that  God  had  set  a  mark  on  him  as  on  Cain,  and 
that  he  was  about  to  burst  in  the  midst  like  Judas.  As  a 
skilful  self-tormentor  Bunyan  rivalled  the  most  rigid  ascetics, 
and  his  agonies  were  the  more  terrible  as  being  inflicted  on 
his  soul  rather  than  on  his  body. 

All  this  time  Bunyan  was  a  member  of  Gifford's  little  con- 
gregation. But  the  teaching  he  received  was  ill  adapted  to 
lessen  his  burden.  Its  principle  was  constant  introspection, 
and  scrupulous  weighing  of  every  word  and  deed  and  even  of 
every  thought,  instead  of  leading  the  mind  off  from  self  to 
the  Saviour.  This  f  horror  of  great  darkness '  broken  bv 
intermittent  gleams  of  heavenly  light,  not  lasting,  but  Hike 
to  Peter's  sheet  of  a  sudden  caught  up  to  heaven  again,' 
continued  more  than  two  years  and  a  half.  This  period  was 
one  continued  spiritual  ague  ;  hot  and  cold  fits  alternating 
with  fearful  suddenness  ;  '  as  Esau  beat  him  down,  Christ 
raised  him  up.'  At  the  end  of  this  period  the  clouds  gradually 
dispersed.  He  allowed  himself  to  believe  that  he  had  not 


xx  BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

committed  the  unpardonable  sin  ;  that  he  was  not  quite  a 
castaway.  He  began  to  read  his  Bible  as  a  whole,  carefully 
noting  how  the  different  portions  bore  on  and  explained  one 
another,  e  comparing  spiritual  things  with  spiritual.'  '  And 
now  remained  only  the  hinder  part  of  the  tempest,  for  the 
thunder  was  gone  past,  only  some  drops  did  still  remain.' 
And  when  one  day,  in  the  field,  '  fearing  lest  yet  all  was  not 
right,'  the  words  '  thy  righteousness  is  in  heaven  '  fell  upon 
his  soul ;  '  methought,'  he  says,  '  I  saw  with  the  eyes  of  my 
soul  Jesus  Christ  at  God's  right  hand.  There  was  my 
righteousness.'  Then  his  chains  fell  off  in  very  deed.  He 
wras  loosed  from  his  affliction.  His  temptations  fled  away, 
and  he  went  on  his  way  rejoicing.  Like  his  own  Christian 
wrhen  delivered  from  his  burden  at  the  foot  of  the  cross 
'  he  gave  three  leaps  for  joy,'  and  cried  '  with  a  merry  heart, 
he  hath  given  me  rest  by  his  sorrow  and  life  by  his  death.' 

Bunyan,  having  now  found  peace  and  comfort,  climbed 
the  hill  Difficulty  and  passed  the  Lions,  entered  the  House 
Beautiful,  and  formally  united  himself  to  the  little  congrega- 
tion under  Mr.  Gifford,  the  prototype  of  his  Evangelist,  to 
which  belonged  the  poor  women — the  Piety,  Prudence,  and 
Charity  of  his  immortal  narrative,  known  in  their  own  little 
Bedford  world  as  ( sister  Bosworth,  sister  Munnes,  and  sister 
Fenne  ; ' — whose  pleasant  words  on  the  things  of  God  as  they 
sat  in  the  sun,  '  as  if  joy  did  make  them  speak,'  had  first 
opened  his  eyes  to  his  spiritual  ignorance.  The  earliest 
records  of  this  church,  according  to  Dr.  Brown,  do  not  com- 
mence till  1656,  six  years  after  its  formation,  and  three  years 
after  the  date  given  by  Charles  Doe  for  Bunyan's  baptism. 
He  does  not  mention  this  himself,  but  it  is  stated  by  Doe  to 
have  been  performed  publicly,  in  1653,  by  Mr.  Gifford  in  the 
river  Ouse,  the  '  Bedford  river  '  where  he  had  once  escaped 
drowning.  He  was  also  admitted  to  the  Holy  Communion. 
This  ordinance  was  at  first  a  source  of  much  comfort  to  him, 
but  before  long  his  old  temptation  returned  upon  him,  and 
it  was  only  by  force  he  could  keep  himself  from  blasphem- 


BUNYAN  AS  A  PREACHER  xxi 

ing  the  Sacrament  and  cursing  his  fellow-communicants1. 
His  name  occurs  in  the  first  extant  list  of  members  of 
Mr.  Gifford's  little  community,  'all  ancient  and  grave  Chris- 
tians ' ;  and  there  are  about  a  dozen  references  to  him  in  the 
church  books  up  to  his  imprisonment  in  1660.  About  this 
time  '  Captain  Consumption/  who  killed  '  Mr.  Badman '  (one 
of  his  most  powerfully  drawn  characters),  threatened  Bunyan's 
life  ;  but  his  naturally  robust  constitution  '  routed  his  forces ' 
and  carried  him  through  what  at  one  time  he  anticipated 
would  prove  a  fatal  illness.  The  tempter  took  advantage 
of  his  bodily  weakness  to  attack  him  with  his  former  doubts  ; 
but,  after  considerable  alternation  of  hope  and  fear,  faith 
prevailed.  It  was  not  long  before  Buiiyan  was  proposed  as 
a  deacon  of  the  little  brotherhood,  and  he  began  to  exercise 
his  gift  of  exhortation  first  privately,  and  as  he  gained 
courage  and  acceptance  'in  a  more  publick  way.'  In  1656 
holy  Mr.  Gifford  died,  leaving  behind  him  an  exhortation  to 
his  congregation  to  mutual  charity  and  forbearance,  breath- 
ing, as  Southey  has  said,  '  a  wise,  tolerant,  and  truly  Christian 
spirit.'  The  year  after  his  death  Bunyan's  powers  as  a 
preacher  were  formally  recognized  ;  and  in  1657  an  entry  in 
the  church-book  records  that  '  brother  Bunyan  being  taken 
off  by  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel'  another  member  was 
made  deacon  in  his  room.  Bunyan  was  regularly  set  apart 
as  a  preacher  of  the  Word,  after  the  ritual  of  the  Noncon- 
formists, '  after  solemn  prayer  and  fasting ' ;  not  however  so 
much  for  Bedford  itself,  as  to  itinerate  through  the  villages 
round  about.  He  still  continued  to  work  at  his  tinkering 
craft  for  a  livelihood.  He  soon  became  famous  as  a  preacher, 
and  people  flocked  by  hundreds  from  all  parts  to  hear  him, 
though  'upon  sundry  and  divers  accounts,'  some,  as  Southey 

1  In  the  same  year  we  find  the  name,  John  Bunyan,  appended 
to  a  memorial  existing  among  the  Milton  papers,  from  the  people  of 
Bedford  '  to  the  Lord  Generall  Cromwell,  and  the  rest  of  the  Councell 
of  the  Army,'  recommending  two  gentlemen  to  form  part  of  his 
intended  Council  after  he  had  dissolved  the  Long  Parliament  (Offor's 


xxii         BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

writes,  { to  marvel.,  and  some  perhaps  to  mock  ;  but  some  also 
to  listen  and  to  be  touched  with  a  conviction  that  they 
needed  a  Saviour.'  But  he  was  not  permitted  to  preach 
unmolested.  Venner's  insurrection  in  1657  awoke  a  feeling 
of  insecurity  in  the  public  mind  and  aggravated  the  preju- 
dice against  Baptists  and  Quakers,  in  spite  of  their  protesta- 
tions of  loyalty  and  disavowal  of  the  principles  of  the  Fifth 
Monarchy  ;  '  the  doctors  and  priests  of  the  county  did  open 
wide  against  him/  and  in  1658  an  indictment  was  preferred 
against  him  at  the  assizes  at  Eaton.  It  will  be  borne  in 
mind  that  this  took  place  before  the  Restoration,  when 
Cromwell  was  still  Protector1.  But  as  Dr.  Brown  observes, 
'  religious  liberty  had  not  come  to  mean  liberty  all  round,  but 
only  liberty  for  a  certain  recognized  section.'  That  there 
was  much  prosecution  during  the  Protectorate  is  clear  from 
the  history  of  the  Quakers,  to  say  nothing  of  the  intolerant 
treatment  of  Roman  Catholics  and  Episcopalians.  In  Bunyan's 
own  county  Quakeresses  were  sentenced  to  be  whipped  and 
sent  to  Bridewell  for  reproving  a  parish  priest,  perhaps  well 
deserving  of  it,  and  exhorting  market-folks  to  repentance  and 
amendment  of  life.  Even  the  holy  and  peaceful  Philip  Henry 
was  presented  in  the  September  of  this  year  at  the  Flint 
assizes.  '  The  simple  truth  is/  writes  Mr.  Southev,  fall 

Life  ;  Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  xxx).  There  are  thirty-six  names,  and  this 
stands  the  fourteenth.  The  difference  of  the  handwriting  in  this 
signature  and  in  those  which  are  undoubtedly  his,  together  with  the 
improbability  that  a  working  tinker  who  had  so  recently  joined  the 
Church  should  have  gained  sufficient  consideration  to  warrant  his 
affixing  his  signature  among  magistrates,  incumbents  of  parishes,  and 
other  persons  of  substance  and  position,  renders  it  very  improbable 
that  it  is  the  name  of  the  author  of  the  I'ilgrim's  Pru<n't**.  Dr. 
Brown  states  that  there  were  at  least  three  other  John  Bunyans  living 
in  Bedford  in  1653,  who  from  social  position  would  have  been  more 
likely  to  have  signed  this  document.  Though  accepted  by  Mr.  Offor, 
this  signature  was  regarded  with  grave  doubt  by  Mr.  Bruce,  the 
eminent  Treasurer  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries,  to  which  body  these 
MSS.  belong. 

1  Book  of  the  Bttnyan  Festival,  p,  8. 


THE  GREAT  CRISIS  xxiii 

parties  were  agreed  in  the  one  Catholic  opinion  that  certain 
doctrines  were  not  to  be  tolerated  '  ;  the  only  point  of  differ- 
ence between  them  was  'what  those  doctrines  were/  and 
how  far  intolerance  might  be  carried.  How  Bunyaii  came  to 
escape  we  do  not  know.  But  we  hear  no  more  of  the  indict- 
ment, which  indeed  he  does  not  mention,  and  of  which  we 
should  have  remained  in  ignorance  but  for  the  entry  in  the 
church-book  appointing  a  day  of  prayer  with  reference  to 
that  and  other  urgent  matters.  Bunyan's  celebrity  as  a 
preacher  aroused  other  enemies  besides  those  set  in  motion 
by  the  law.  Slanders  of  the  blackest  dye  were  circulated 
with  regard  to  his  moral  character :  it  was  rumoured  up  and 
down  that  he  was  '  a  witch,  a  Jesuit,  a  highwayman/  that  he 
had  '  two  wives  at  once/  and  lived  a  life  of  gross  immorality. 
These  calumnious  charges  called  forth  that  vehement  vindi- 
cation of  himself,  to  which  reference  has  already  been  made, 
in  which,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  he  declares  his  absolute 
innocence  as  regards  sins  of  licentiousness,  and  the  purity, 
in  this  respect,  of  his  whole  life,  calling  not  on  men  only  but 
on  angels  to  prove  him  guilty  if  they  could. 

We  approach  now  the  great  crisis  in  Bunyan's  life,  but  for 
which  his  name  would  have  passed  away  and  been  forgotten, 
together  with  those  of  thousands  of  preachers  as  earnest  and 
as  popular  as  he  was.  Early  in  May,  1660,  Charles  II  was 
proclaimed  king,  and  on  the  29th  of  that  month  he  entered 
London  amid  the  universal  acclamations  of  all  classes  of  his 
subjects.  Bunyaii,  as  the  extracts  from  his  works  given  by 
Mr.  Offor  and  Mr.  Copner  show,  was  an  eminently  loyal  man, 
and  few  would  rejoice  more  heartily  at  this  event  which  he 
was  to  be  one  of  the  first  to  suffer  by.  Already  distant 
mutterings  of  the  storm  of  persecution  had  been  heard. 
Before  Charles'  landing  at  Dover  the  Episcopalians  in  Wales 
had  been  very  busy  in  manifesting  their  orthodox  zeal  by 
the  persecution  of  Quakers  and  Nonconformists.  In  the  May 
or  June  of  that  year  stories  are  told  of  sectaries  being  haled, 
out  of  their  beds  to  prison,  and  brought  in  chains  to  the 


xxiv         BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

quarter  sessions.  As  we  have  seen,  Bunyan  had  many  ene- 
mies. The  public  mind  was  in  a  very  unquiet  state,  agitated 
by  the  wild  schemes  of  political  and  religious  enthusiasts, 
who  were  plotting  to  destroy  the  whole  existing  framework 
both  of  Church  and  State,  and  set  up  their  own  chimerical 
fabric.  In  such  times  we  cannot  be  surprised  that,  as  Souther 
has  said,  the  'government,  rendered  suspicious  by  the  con- 
stant sense  of  danger,  was  led  as  much  by  fear  as  by  resent- 
ment to  severities  which  are  explained  by  the  necessities  of 
self-defence.'  The  acts  of  relentless  severity  which  still 
stood  unrepealed  on  the  Statute  Book,  enforcing  conformity 
with  the  established  Church,  put  a  weapon  in  the  hands  of 
the  party  in  power  they  were  not  slow  to  use.  '  It  is  not 
generally  remembered,'  writes  Dr.  Stoughton  19  e  that  long 
before  the  Uniformity,  Conventicle,  and  Five  Mile  Acts  were 
passed  John  Bunyan  was  cast  into  Bedford  Gaol2.'  Under 
these  Acts,  within  six  months  of  the  king's  arrival,  a  warrant 
was  issued  against  Bunyan,  and  he  was  arrested  for  preaching 
in  a  private  house  at  Samsell,  a  hamlet  of  the  village  of 
Harlington  about  thirteen  miles  south  of  Bedford,  on  Novem- 
ber 12,  1660.  The  intention  to  arrest  him  had  oozed  out, 
and  Bunyan  was  warned  of  his  danger,  and  might  have 
escaped  if  he  had  chosen ;  some  of  his  friends  advised  it : 
but  he  had  no  mind  to  play  the  coward,  lest  he  should 

1  Clturch  of  the  Restoration,  vol.  i.  p.  138. 

3  The  old  Statute  Law  of  the  Realm,  1  Eliz.  c.  2,  re-e«acted  with 
all  its  rigour  16  Charles  II,  4  (1664),  required  all  persons  to  resort 
to  church  every  Sunday  and  holiday,  on  fine  of  Is.  for  each  offence 
and  Church  censure.  23  Eliz.  c.  1  made  the  fine  £20  a  month,  and 
an  obstinate  offender  for  twelve  months  had  to  be  bound  to  good 
behaviour  by  two  sureties  in  £200  each,  till  he  conformed.  29  Eliz. 
c.  6  empowered  the  Queen  by  process  out  of  the  Exchequer  to  seize 
the  goods  and  two  parts  of  the  real  property  of  such  offenders,  in 
default  of  paying  these  fines.  35  Eliz.  c.  1  made  frequenting  con- 
venticles punishable  by  imprisonment.  Those  who  after  conviction 
would  not  submit  were  to  abjure  the  realm.  Refusal  to  abjure  was 
felony  without  benefit  of  clergy.  See  also  3  Jacob.  4 ;  21  Jacob.  4 ; 
Stoughton,  Church  of  the  Restoration,  i.  135. 


COMMITTED   TO   PRISON  xxv 

e  make  an  ill  savour  in  the  country '  and  discourage  the 
weaker  brethren.  '  The  justice  before  whom  he  was  taken, 
Mr.  Francis  Wingate,  who  seems  to  have  been  really  desirous 
to  release  him,  finding  all  his  endeavours,  earnestly  seconded 
by  his  household,  useless  to  lead  him  to  promise  to  forgo 
preaching,  was  compelled  to  make  out  his  '  mittimus '  and 
commit  him  to  the  county  gaol.  While  his  (  mittimus  '  was 
preparing  he  was  reviled  by  one  Dr.  Lindale,  (  an  old  enemy 
to  the  truth,'  who  sarcastically  reminded  him  of  Alexander 
the  coppersmith  wrho  much  troubled  the  apostles — '  aiming 
'tis  like  at  me,'  says  Bunyan,  '  because  I  was  a  tinker '-  —and 
comparing  him  to  those  fwho  made  long  prayers  that  they 
might  devour  widows'  houses.'  But  Bunyan  was  a  match  for 
him,  and  paid  him  back  in  his  own  coin.  He  was  given  over 
to  the  constable,  and  in  his  custody  returned  to  Bedford, 
probably  passing  through  his  native  village  of  Elstow  on  the 
way,  and  was  committed  to  the  prison  which,  with  perhaps 
a  brief  interval  in  1666,  was  to  be  his  enforced  home  for  the 
next  twelve  years,  carrying  '  God's  comfort  in  his  poor  soul.' 
By  an  obstinate  and  widespread  error  it  was  long  taken  for 
granted  that  Bunyan's  place  of  confinement  was  the  town 
gaol,  which,  as  old  drawings  show  us,  stood  so  picturesquely 
on  one  of  the  piers  of  the  many-arched  bridge  over  the 
Ouse.  This  idea,  on  which  much  sensational  writing  has 
been  expended,  has  been  satisfactorily  proved  by  Mr.  James 
Wyatt  to  be  a  baseless  fancy,  conjured  up  with  the  view  of 
exaggerating  the  severity  of  Bunyan's  sufferings  during  his  by 
no  means  harsh  imprisonment,  and  piling  contumely  on  his 
persecutors.  The  bridge-gaol  was  a  corporation  '  lock-up- 
house.'  The  county  prison,  to  which  the  county  justices' 
warrant  must  have  committed  him,  was  a  much  larger  and 
less  wretched  place  of  incarceration,  now  pulled  down,  occupy- 
ing the  angle  between  High  Street  and  Silver  Street.  Prisons 
at  the  best  were  foul,  dark,  miserable  places  in  those  days, 
and  one  who  visited  Bunyan  during  his  confinement  speaks 
of  Bedford  gaol  as  '  an  uncomfortable  and  close  prison ' :  but 


xxvi        BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

his  own  narrative  contains  no  complaint  of  it,  and  we  may 
reasonably  believe  that  his  condition  was  by  no  means  so 
wretched  as  many  of  his  biographers  represent,  especially 
after  he  had  gained  the  favour  of  his  gaoler,  who  at  a  later 
time  was  ready  to  imperil  himself  to  grant  indulgence  to  his 
notable  prisoner.  An  attempt  to  procure  Bunyan's  release 
by  his  obtaining  sureties  having  failed,  some  seven  weeks 
after  his  committal  the  quarter  sessions  were  held,  and 
Bunyan  was  indicted  as  a  person  who  e  devilishly  and  per- 
niciously abstained  from  coming  to  church  to  hear  divine 
service,  and  was  a  common  upholder  of  unlawful  meetings 
and  conventicles  to  the  great  disturbance  and  distraction  of 
all  good  subjects.'  The  brutal  and  blustering  Keeling,  who 
afterwards  by  his  base  subserviency  to  an  infamous  govern- 
ment climbed  to  the  Chief  Justice's  seat,  was  chairman  of 
the  sessions.  Under  such  a  man  the  issue  was  predeter- 
mined even  had  there  been  any  question  of  Bunyan's  guilt. 
But  he  confessed  the  indictment,  and  declared  his  resolve  to 
repeat  his  crime  the  first  moment  opportunity  was  given  him. 
Sentence  therefore  was  passed  on  him,  indeed  in  the  then 
state  of  the  law  his  judges  had  no  choice  in  the  matter,  that 
he  should  be  imprisoned  three  months  longer,  and  if  at  the 
end  of  that  time  he  persisted  in  his  contumacy  be  ' banished 
the  realm' — in  modern  language  '  transported ' — and  if  he 
ventured  to  return  without  royal  licence  he  must  '  stretch  by 
the  neck  for  it/  Back  therefore  he  was  had  'with  a  heart 
sweetly  refreshed '  both  during  his  examination  and  on  his 
return  to  prison,  and  full  of  a  peace  no  man  could  take  from 
him.  Three  months  elapsed,  and  then  the  clerk  of  the  peace, 
one  Mr.  Cobb,  went  to  him  (April  3,  l66l)  by  the  desire  of 
the  magistrates  to  see  if  he  could  induce  him  to  conform. 
But  his  attempts,  which  seem  to  have  been  very  kindly  made, 
were  vain,  and,  after  giving  Bunyan  some  very  sensible 
counsel  that  he  was  in  no  state  of  mind  to  listen  to,  he  left 
him  with  Bunyan's  thanks  for  his  'civil  and  meek  discoursing 
with  him,  and  a  prayer  that  they  might  meet  in  heaven.' 


A   WIFE'S    INTERCESSION  xxvii 

Ten  days  after  this  interview,  April  13,  Charles  II's  corona- 
tion took  place,  and  the  usual  proclamation  which  allowed 
persons  to  sue  out  a  pardon  for  twelve  months  from  that  day 
had  the  effect  of  suspending  the  execution  of  his  sentence  of 
banishment.  The  agent  employed  by  Bunyan  to  avail  him- 
self of  the  royal  clemency  was  his  second  wife,  Elizabeth, 
a  truly  noble-hearted  Christian  woman,  worthy  to  be  the 
helpmate  of  such  a  man,  as  fearless  as  her  husband  in  the 
pursuit  of  the  right,  but  withal  a  true  woman,  with  '  abashed 
face  and  trembling  heart,'  fuller  of  compassion  for  the  justices, 
on  the  failure  of  her  mediation,  thinking  e  what  a  sad  account 
such  poor  creatures  would  have  to  give  hereafter,'  than  of 
anger  at  their  hardheartedness  against  her  husband.  How 
long  before  Bimyan's  first  wife  had  died  we  do  not  know.  His 
narrative  is  provokingly  sparing  of  facts  and  dates,  except 
those  which  concern  his  own  spiritual  experiences ;  but  we 
may  gather  from  her  account  that  somewhere  about  a  year 
before  his  first  apprehension  in  November,  1660,  she  had 
joined  her  lot  with  his  and  become  a  second  parent  to  his 
five  little  motherless  children,  one  of  them  a  blind  girl,  the 
special  object  of  her  father's  love.  Eager  for  her  husband's 
release  she  travelled  up  to  London,  and  with  dauntless 
courage  made  her  way  to  the  House  of  Lords,  where  she 
presented  her  petition  to  one  of  the  peers  whom  she  calls 
Lord  Bark  wood,  but  whom  we  cannot  now  identify.  He 
treated  her  kindly,  showed  her  petition  to  other  peers,  but 
gave  her  small  encouragement.  Not  baffled  by  previous 
failures,  in  August,  when  the  assizes  came  round  and  the 
judges  visited  Bedford,  the  excellent  Sir  Matthew  Hale  being 
the  most  conspicuous  among  them,  Elizabeth  Bunyan,  at  her 
husband's  instance,  three  times  presented  a  petition  to  them 
that  he  might  be  heard,  and  his  case  taken  impartially  into 
consideration.  The  interview,  which  took  place  in  the  large 
chamber  of  the  old  Swan  Inn,  at  the  Bridge-foot,  ended  in 
Sir  Matthew  expressing  real  compassion  for  her  sad  case,  but 
mildly  telling  her  he  was  sorry  he  could  do  her  no  good,  for 


xxviii      BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

what  her  husband  had  said  was  taken  for  a  conviction,  and 
that  she  must  either  apply  herself  to  the  king  or  sue  out  his 
pardon,  or  get  a  writ  of  error ;  the  last  course  being  the 
cheapest.  No  steps  seem  to  have  been  taken  to  carry  out 
any  of  these  expedients,  either  because  they  required  money 
which  was  not  forthcoming,  or,  which  Southey  sensibly  re- 
marks is  quite  probable,  '  because  it  is  certain  that  Bunyan, 
thinking  himself  in  conscience  bound  to  preach  in  defiance 
of  the  law,  would  soon  have  made  his  case  worse  than  it  then 
was.'  What  perhaps  rendered  him  less  eager  to  take  the 
suggested  remedies  was  that,  like  Joseph  before  him,  he  had 
'  found  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the  keeper  of  the  prison,'  who 
treated  him  rather  like  fa  prisoner  at  large';  and,  confident 
that  he  was  not  a  man  to  abuse  his  trust,  suffered  him  to  go 
where  he  pleased,  and  return  when  he  thought  proper.  The 
church-book  shows  that  during  this  very  year  he  was  occasion- 
ally present  at  the  church-meetings,  and  employed  on  the 
business  of  the  congregation.  Nor  was  his  preaching,  which 
was  the  very  cause  of  his  imprisonment,  inhibited.  So  far 
did  this  temporary  liberty  extend,  that  he  even  went  to 
( see  Christians  at  London.'  This  coming  to  the  ears  of  those 
in  authority,  he  was  charged  with  having  for  his  object  'to 
plot  and  raise  divisions,  and  make  insurrections,'  and  his  well- 
meant  indulgence  was  nearly  costing  his  gaoler  his  place, 
and  an  indictment  for  breach  of  trust.  His  liberty  was 
therefore  seriously  abridged,  and  he  was  forbidden  even  '  to 
look  out  at  the  door.'  He  was  passed  by  at  the  following 
assizes,  and  when  they  were  again  held  in  the  March  of 
1662,  his  earnest  desire  to  be  allowed  to  appear  before  the 
judges  and  plead  his  own  cause  was  effectually  thwarted  by 
the  unfriendly  influence  of  the  county  magistrates  by  whom 
he  had  been  committed,  and  the  clerk  of  the  peace,  Mr.  Cobb, 
who,  having  failed  to  induce  him  to  conform,  had  turned 
bitterly  against  him,  and  become  one  of  his  greatest  opposers. 
This  failure  effectually  closed  the  prison  doors  on  him,  and, 
as  already  stated,  he  remained  an  inmate  of  Bedford  gaol, 


DAYS   OF   PERSECUTION  xxix 

with  a  short  interval,  for  the  next  twelve  years,  till  his  release 
by  order  of  the  Privy  Council,  May  17,  1672.  The  seven 
years  that  followed  his  incarceration  were  ( years  of  deep 
darkness  and  trouble'  to  all  Nonconformists,  In  l66l  the 
re-enactment  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity,  demanding  an 
unfeigned  assent  and  consent  to  everything  contained  in  the 
Book  of  Common  Prayer,  had  dealt  a  heavy  blow  at  the 
Puritans.  The  next  year,  '  black  Bartholomew's  day '  saw 
nearly  two  thousand  rectors  and  vicars,  about  one  fifth  of  the 
parochial  clergy,  driven  from  their  charges  as  Nonconformists. 
The  ( Conventicle  Act'  of  1664,  and  the  <  Five  Mile  Act'  of 
1665,  completed  the  code  of  persecution,  and  deepened  the 
feeling  of  despair  in  the  Nonconformist  body.  England 
seemed  no  longer  a  home  for  them,  and  those  who  were 
fortunate  enough  to  escape  prison  meditated  a  flight  to  the 
Low  Countries  or  to  America.  The  gaols  were  crammed 
with  men  of  piety  and  education,  some  of  whom  perished  of 
disease  and  wretchedness,  while  the  old  and  young,  sick  and 
healthy,  were  shut  up  with  the  vilest  miscreants.  Upwards 
of  8,000  Quakers  alone  suffered  imprisonment.  Sixty  Non- 
conformists were  at  one  time  incarcerated  in  Bedford  gaol 
for  attending  a  religious  meeting,  among  whom  were  two 
ministers.  According  to  his  earliest  biographer — his  friend 
Charles  Doe,  '  the  Struggler '  -Bunyaii  obtained  his  release 
in  1666,  the  year  of  the  fire  in  London  ;  but  he  was  speedily 
apprehended  again  on  the  old  charge  and  put  into  the  same 
gaol.  Doe  tells  us  that  before  his  final  deliverance  he  was 
released  and  apprehended  again,  his  last  imprisonment  last- 
ing only  six  months.  But  there  is  some  doubt  as  to  the 
perfect  accuracy  of  these  statements.  The  straitness  of 
Bunyan's  imprisonment  may  be  seen  from  the  fact  that 
during  all  that  time  his  name  is  not  once  mentioned  in  the 
church-book.  These  records  are  indeed  very  fragmentary 
till  1668.  '  For  four  years  and  a  half  after  the  passing  of  the 
Conventicle  Act  (in  1664-)  there  is  a  gap,  without  a  single 
entry/  On  August  30,  1668,  Bunyan's  name  appears  again 


xxx          BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

in  the  church  records,  and  is  of  frequent  occurrence  till  his 
release  in  l6?2.  Before  his  final  deliverance  the  extreme 
rigour  of  his  incarceration  was  relaxed,  and  he  was  allowed 
to  steal  out  and  visit  his  family,  and  even  to  preach  in  the 
adjoining  villages  under  the  cover  of  night.  Many  of  the 
Baptist  congregations  in  Bedfordshire  are  said  to  owe  their 
origin  to  these  midnight  preachings. 

But  though  his  imprisonment  was  not  so  severe,  nor  his 
prison  so  wretched  as  some  word-painters  have  depicted  it, 
the  twelve  years  spent  by  Bunyan  in  gaol  must  have  been 
a  dreary  and  painful  time,  and  e  sometimes  under  cruel  and 
oppressive  gaolers.'  The  separation  from  his  wife  and  children 
was  a  continually  renewed  sorrow  to  his  loving  heart.  He 
seemed  like  a  man  pulling  down  his  house  on  the  head  of 
his  wife  and  children,  and  yet  he  said,  { I  must  do  it,  I  must 
do  it.'  He  was  also  at  one  time,  when  but  ( a  young 
prisoner,'  greatly  troubled  by  the  thought  that  his  l  imprison- 
ment might  end  at  the  gallowrs,'  not  so  much  that  he  dreaded 
death,  as  that  he  feared  his  apparent  cowardice,  when  it  came 
to  the  point,  might  do  discredit  to  the  cause  of  religion. 
Being  precluded  by  his  imprisonment  from  carrying  on  his 
tinker's  craft  for  the  support  of  his  family,  he  betook  himself 
to  making  long  tagged  laces,  many  hundred  gross  of  which  he 
made  and  sold  to  the  hawkers.  '  While  his  hands  were  thus 
busied,'  writes  Lord  Macaulay,  '  he  had  often  employment 
for  his  mind  and  his  lips.'  He  gave  religious  instruction  to 
his  fellow  captives ;  ( at  one  time,'  writes  his  anonymous 
biographer, '  there  wrere  threescore  dissenters  imprisoned  with 
him,'  and  he  formed  from  among  these  a  little  flock  of 
which  he  was  himself  the  pastor1.  He  studied  in- 
defatigably  the  few  books  which  he  possessed.  His  two 

1  '  Upon  a  certain  fixed  day,  being  together  with  my  brethren  in  our 
prison  chamber,  they  expected  that,  according  to  our  custom,  some- 
thing should  be  spoken  out  of  the  Word  for  our  mutual  edification.  I 
felt  myself,  it  being  my  turn  to  speak,  empty,  spiritless,  barren.'— 
The  Holy  City,  or  New  Jerusalem,  1665. 


BUNYAN'S  WRITINGS  xxxi 

— } 
chief    companions    were    the     Bible     and    Fox's    Acts     and 

Monuments. 

{ I  surveyed  his  library/  says  his  anonymous  biographer, 
'  when  making  him  a  visit  in  prison,  the  least  and  yet  the 
best  that  ever  I  saw,  consisting  only  of  two  books.'  At  length 
Bunyan  began  to  write  the  wonderful  work  which  has  made 
him  immortal,  and  which  is  characterized  by  Coleridge  l  as 
(  incomparably  the  best  Summa  Tkeologiae  Evangelicae  ever 
produced  by  a  writer  not  miraculously  inspired,'  the  first 
part  of  the  '  Pilgrim  s  Progress  from  this  world  to  that  which  is 
to  come,  delivered  under  the  similitude  of  a  Dream'  This  was 
far  from  being  the  earliest  product  of  his  pen,  in  the  ceaseless 
activity  of  which,  as  Mr.  Green  remarks,  he  found  compen- 
sation for  the  narrow  bounds  of  his  prison2.  In  1656,  in  his 
twenty-eighth  year,  he  had  given  his  first  work  to  the  world 
under  the  title  of  Some  Gospel  Truths  opened  according  to  the 
Scriptures,  in  which,  says  Mr.  Offor,  '  he  attacked  the  follies  of 
the  time,  exposed  and  condemned  heresies  without  mercy.' 
This  was  followed  the  next  year  with  a  Vindication  of  Gospel 
Truths,  in  which  he  defended  himself  against  the  violent  on- 
slaught of  Edward  Burrough,  the  Quaker,  who  perished 
afterwards  in  Newgate,  whom  among  other  not  very  con- 
ciliatory epithets  Bunyan  termed  fa  railing  Rabshakeh.'  In 
the  September  of  16.58  he  published  a  tract  under  the  terrible 
title  which  prepares  us  for  the  nature  of  its  contents,  A  few 
sighs  from  Hell,  succeeded  in  the  May  of  the  following  year 
by  The  doctrine  of  the  Law  and  Grace  unfolded.  In  both  the 
author  calls  himself  that  e  poor  and  contemptible  creature, 
John  Bunyan  of  Bedford.'  During  his  imprisonment,  and 
after  his  enlargement,  tracts,  meditations,  controversial 
treatises,  poetry,  or  what  he  wished  to  pass  for  such,  followed 
one  another  in  quick  succession.  The  one  work  of  real 
genius  of  which  he  was  the  author  was  slow  to  see  the  light. 


1  Literary  Remains,  vol.  iii.  p.  391. 

2  Short  History  of  the  English  People,  p.  614. 


xxxii       BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

His  own  estimation  of  it  was  so  low,  and  he  was  so  fearful 
of  its  being  regarded  as   a  light    and   trifling  work,  beneath 
the  dignity  of  a  minister  of  the   Gospel,  that  after  its  com- 
pletion  Bunyan  kept  the  Pilgrim  locked  up  in  his  desk  for 
several  years.     It  was  not  till  l6?8,  six  years  after  his  release 
from  prison,  that  the  first  edition  of  the  most  popular  allegory 
in  the  English  language  '  stole  silently  into  the  wrorld.'     The 
same  year  a  second  edition  appeared  with  additions,  including 
Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman,  Byends'  friends,  and  other  of  the  most 
characteristic  creations.      It  at  once  caught  the  popular  taste. 
Edition  after   edition   was   called   for,  and  the   sale   became 
enormous.      Of  the  substantial  originality  of  this  book  there 
can  be  no  reasonable  doubt.     Every  attempt  to  rob  Bunyan 
of  the  merit  of  originality  in  the  conception  and  execution  of 
his   design,   and    to    convict    him    of   secret   plagiarism,   has 
utterly  broken  down,  and  done  little  but  prove  the  entire 
want  of  critical  discernment  in  its  originators.      It  is  perfectly 
true  that  the  same  allegory  had  often  been  treated  before 
Bunyan  :    so  frequently  indeed,   that   pages   could   be   filled, 
as  Mr.   Offor   has    done,  with    notices    of  such    works.     But 
even  if  there  were   any  probability  that  an  itinerant  tinker 
should   have   fallen   in  with  such  works,  some   only  existing 
in   French   or    Dutch,  the    resemblance   between   them    and 
his  immortal  allegory  is  far  too  general  and  vague  to  warrant 
the  hypothesis  that  Bunyan  had  borrowed  from  them.     Re- 
markable as  is  the  similarity  between  portions   of  Spenser's 
Faery  Queen  and  some  of  the  most  striking  passages  of  the 
Pilgrim  s  Progress,   too   remarkable,   many  have    thought,  to 
be   quite  accidental,  so  excellent  a  critic  as  Lord   Macaulay 
speaks  of  any  deliberate  imitation   as  a  notion  that  may  be 
easily  confuted  by  a  detailed  examination  of  the  respective 
passages.      The  complete  originality  of  the  Pilgrim  is  plainly 
asserted  by  the  author  himself ;  and  if  ever  there  was  a  man 
who  wrould  have  scorned  a  falsehood,  or  revolted  at  the  bare 
idea  of  passing  off  the  coinage   of  another   man's  brains  as 
his    own,  that  man  was  John  Bunyan. 


RELEASED  FROM  GAOL  xxxiii 

Bunyan  had  indeed,  as  Lord  Macaulay  remarks,  ( no 
suspicion  that  he  was  producing  a  masterpiece.  He  could 
not  guess  what  place  his  allegory  would  occupy  in  English 
literature,  for  of  English  literature  he  knew  nothing.  Knavish 
booksellers  put  forth  volumes  of  trash  under  his  name,  and 
envious  scribblers  maintained  it  to  be  impossible  that  the 
poor  ignorant  tinker  should  really  be  the  author  of  the  book. 
He  took  the  best  way  to  confound  both  those  who  counter- 
feited him  and  those  who  slandered  him.  He  continued  to 
work  the  goldfield  which  he  had  discovered,  and  to  draw 
from  it  new  treasures ;  not  indeed  with  quite  such  ease,  and 
in  quite  such  abundance,  as  when  the  precious  soil  was  still 
virgin,  but  yet  with  success  which  left  all  competition  far 
behind.'  In  1684  appeared  the  Second  Part  of  the  Pilgrim  s 
Progress.  It  had  been  preceded  in  1682  by  the  Holy  War, 
which,  ( if  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  did  not  exist,  would  be  the 
best  allegory  that  ever  was  written.'  Grace  Abounding  was 
first  published  in  1666.  Its  immediate  popularity  caused  six 
impressions  to  be  called  for  in  that  year. 

After  twelve  years'  imprisonment,  Bunyan  finally  left 
Bedford  gaol  in  1672.  His  pardon  under  the  Great  Seal 
bears  date  the  13th  of  September  of  that  year.  The 
documents  which  rewarded  the  late  Mr.  Offer's  patient 
researches  in  the  State  Paper  Office  and  elsewhere  prove 
that  the  Quakers  were  mainly  instrumental  in  throwing  open 
the  prison  doors  to  those  who  were  suffering  for  the  sake  of 
religion  in  the  various  gaols  of  the  kingdom,  and  that  Charles' 
gratitude  to  John  Groves,  the  Quaker  mate  of  Tattersall's 
fisher-boat,  in  which  he  escaped  to  France  after  the  battle 
of  Worcester,  had  something,  and  the  determined  advocacy 
of  George  Whitehead,  the  Quaker,  still  more,  to  do  with  this 
act  of  royal  clemency.  But  the  main  cause  lies  deeper,  and  f 
is  connected,  as  Macaulay  says,  fwith  one  of  the  worst  acts 
of  one  of  the  worst  governments  that  England  has  ever  seen,' 
that  of  the  Cabal.  Charles  had  just  concluded  the  base 
Treaty  of  Dover,  by  which  he  bound  himself  to  declare 


xxxiv       BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

himself  a  Roman  Catholic,  and  to  set  up  the  Popish  religion 
in  England.  The  announcement  of  his  conversion  it  was 
found  convenient  to  defer.  Nor  could  the  other  part  of  the 
treaty  be  safely  carried  out  at  once.  But  as  a  first  step 
toward  it,  by  an  unconstitutional  exercise  of  his  prerogative, 
he  suspended  all  penal  statutes  against  Nonconformists  and 
recusants — the  former  being  introduced  the  better  to  cloak 
his  real  design.  Toleration  was  thus  at  last  secured. 
'  Ministers  returned/  writes  Mr.  Green,  '  after  years  of 
banishment,  to  their  houses  and  their  flocks,  chapels  were 
reopened,  the  gaols  were  emptied,  Bunyan  left  his  prison  at 
Bedford  ;  the  "Den"  where  he  had  been  visited  with  his 
marvellous  dream.'  More  than  three  thousand  licences  to 
preach  were  granted,  one  of  the  first  of  which,  dated 
May  9,  1672,  was  granted  to  Bunyan,  who  on  the  21st  of  the 
preceding  January  had  been  called  to  the  pastorate  of  the 
Baptist  church  at  Bedford,  and  '  giving  himself  up  to  serve 
Christ  and  His  Church  in  that  charge,  received  of  the  elders 
the  right  hand  of  fellowship.'  The  place  in  which  Bunyan 
was  licensed  to  preach  was  the  house,  or  more  probably 
a  barn  on  the  premises,  of  Josiah  Roughead,  a  man  of  sub- 
stance at  Bedford,  whose  goods  had  been  seized  a  few 
months  before  to  pay  a  fine  inflicted  for  nonconformity.  The 
story  that  Bunyan  owed  his  liberation  to  the  kind  offices  of 
Dr.  Barlow,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  in  which  diocese  Bedford  then 
was,  though  told  with  much  particularity  in  the  Life  of 
Dr.  Owen,  is  contradicted  by  dates,  Barlow  not  having 
succeeded  to  his  see  until  three  years  later,  June  27,  1675, 
and  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  pleasing  fictions  of  history. 
This  Declaration  of  Indulgence  was  short-lived.  It  was  with- 
drawn, and  the  Test  Act  was  passed  the  next  year,  1673. 
fBut  though,'  says  Dr.  Stoughton,  fthis  altered  the  legal 
position  of  Nonconformists  much  for  the  worse,  the  law  was 
not  generally  pressed,  and  they  were  treated  with  much  less 
severity  than  before.' 

Almost  Bunyan's  first  act  after  his  liberation  was  to  apply 


BUNYAN'S   PASTORAL   DUTIES         xxxv 

to  the  Government  for  licences  for  preachers  and  preaching- 
places  in  Bedfordshire  and  the  neighbouring  counties  under 
the  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  A  document  discovered  by 
Dr.  Brown  in  the  Record  Office  contains  a  list  of  six-and-twenty 
such  applications,  the  sixth  of  which  is  for  '  John  Bunyon  for 
Josias  Rough ead's  house  in  his  Orchard  at  Bedford  V  While 
he  made  Bedford  his  chief  care,  Bunyan's  pastoral  super- 
intendence extended  beyond  the  surrounding  district  to  other 
parts  of  England,  where  he  is  said  to  have  made  stated  circuits. 
He  was  the  means  of  establishing  Baptist  congregations  at 
Gamlingay,  and  in  many  of  the  villages  round,  some  of  which, 
we  are  told,  subsist  to  the  present  day.  When  he  preached 
in  London,  which  he  seems  to  have  done  at  stated  intervals, 
an  enormous  concourse  assembled  to  listen  to  him,  if  but  one 
day's  notice  was  given  of  his  coming,  in  the  coldest  winter 
weather,  and  before  daylight  in  the  morning.  Twro  anecdotes 
are  on  record  with  regard  to  Bunyan's  preaching.  '  The  first, 
which,'  says  Southey,  '  authenticates  itself,'  is  that  one  day 
when  he  had  preached  fwith  peculiar  warmth  and  enlarge- 
ment,' one  of  his  friends  remarked  what  '  a  sweet  sermon ' 
he  had  delivered.  ' Ay,'  said  he,  'you  have  no  need  to  tell 
me  that ;  for  the  Devil  whispered  it  to  me  before  I  was  well 
out  of  the  pulpit.'  The  other,  which  has  perhaps  needlessly 
been  called  in  question,  states  that,  Charles  II  having  heard 
that  Dr.  Owen  greatly  admired  Bunyan's  preaching,  asked  in 
surprise  '  how  a  learned  man  such  as  he  could  sit  and  listen 
to  an  illiterate  tinker.'  '  May  it  please  your  Majesty,'  he 
replied,  '  I  would  gladly  give  up  all  my  learning  for  that 
tinker's  power  of  preaching.' 

Bunyan  survived  Charles  II,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  saw 
James  II,  an  avowed  Papist,  mount  the  throne.  The  danger 
he  foresaw  for  the  Nonconformists  was  made  more  real  by 
Monmouth's  rebellion  in  1685.  The  persecution,  which  had 
much  increased  in  violence  during  the  last  three  years,  of 
Charles'  reign,  not  on  religious  but  political  grounds,  raged 
1  Book  of  the  Bunyan  Festival,  p.  17, 


xxxvi        BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

with  still  greater  fury.  The  gaols  were  filled,  and  many  were 
driven  into  exile.  Scarcely  a  single  Dissenting  Minister  of 
any  eminence  remained  unmolested,  and  it  was  by  no  means 
unlikely  that  Bunyan  might  be  called  again  to  occupy  his 
old  quarters  in  Bedford  gaol.  In  this  uncertainty,  fearing 
lest  if  he  were  sent  to  prison  as  a  felon  his  little  property 
might  all  be  forfeited  and  his  \vife  and  children  left  destitute, 
by  a  deed  of  gift,  dated  Dec.  23,  1685,  in  which  he  describes 
himself  as  '  John  Bunyan  of  the  parish  of  St.  Cuthbert's  in 
the  town  of  Bedford,  Brazier,'  he  made  over  to  his  wife 
Elizabeth  all  his  worldly  possessions. 

His  frequent  journeys  to  exhort  other  Baptist  congregations 
exposed  him  to  danger  of  apprehension.  Reading  was  one 
of  the  places  where  he  was  best  known,  and  there  is  a  tra- 
dition that  he  sometimes  visited  that  town  disguised  as 
a  wagoner  with  a  long  whip  in  his  hand  to  avoid  detection. 
Quieter  times  succeeded,  and  this  period  of  peril  to  his  liberty 
was  followed  by  one  of  still  greater  danger  to  his  honesty  and 
consistency  of  purpose.  James,  despairing  of  using  the  Tories 
and  Church  party  as  his  tools,  turned,  as  his  brother  had  done 
before  him,  to  the  Nonconformists.  The  snare  was  craftily 
baited  with  a  Declaration  of  Indulgence.  A  paper  in  the 
Bodleian,  quoted  by  Dr.  Stoughton a,  shows  that  Bunyan  was 
deemed  a  man  of  sufficient  importance  to  be  consulted  as  to 
the  choice  of  members  of  Parliament  for  Bedford,  as  one  who 
was  prepared  to  do  his  utmost  to  return  those  who  would 
vote  for  the  repeal  of  all  tests  and  penal  laws  touching 
religion.  But  Bunyan  saw  through  James'  device,  and 
utterly  refused  to  hold  any  communication  with  the  member 
of  the  Court  commissioned  to  secure  his  aid,  and  appointed 
a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer  for  the  danger  that  again 
menaced  their  civil  and  religious  liberties.  A  true  sturdy 
Englishman,  lie  with  Baxter  and  Howe  '  refused  an 
Indulgence  which  could  only  be  purchased  by  the  violent 
overthrow  of  the  law.' 

1  Church  of  the  Restoration,  vol.  ii.  p.  555,  note. 


DEATH   AND    BURIAL  xxxvii 

Bunyan  did  not  live  to  see  the  Revolution.  Four  months 
after  the  acquittal  of  the  seven  bishops,  the  Pilgrim's  earthly 
Progress  ended,  and  he  was  bidden  to  cross  the  dark  river 
which  has  no  bridge.  He  was  called  away  in  the  very  midst 
of  his  religious  activity,  and  when  the  once  despised  tinker 
had  approached  the  nearest  to  worldly  honour.  That  year  he 
was  chaplain  to  Sir  John  Shorter,  Lord  Mayor  of  London, 
and,  though  in  the  spring  he  had  suffered  from  the  '  sweating 
sickness,'  he  published  six  considerable  volumes,  and  left 
twelve  more  in  manuscript  ready  for  the  press.  His  death 
was  brought  about  by  a  work  of  true  Christian  love.  The 
father  of  a  young  man  in  whom  he  took  an  interest  had 
resolved,  on  some  offence,  real  or  supposed,  to  disinherit  his 
son.  The  young  man  besought  Bunyan's  mediation.  Desirous 
to  reconcile  them  Bunyan  rode  on  horseback  to  Reading,  where 
the  father  lived,  and  pleaded  the  offender's  cause  so  effectually 
that  he  obtained  a  promise  of  forgiveness.  On  his  return  he 
had  to  ride  through  heavy  rain.  He  reached  the  house  of 
his  friend  John  Strudwick  (f  grocer  and  chandler  at  the  sign 
of  the  Star,  Holborn  Bridge/  as  we  learn  from  a  still  existing 
billhead  with  a  picture  of  the  four-storied  gabled  house) 
drenched  to  the  skin.  A  fever  ensued,  of  which  he  died 
August  31, 1688,  aged  sixty  years.  His  last  earthly  work  was 
to  revise  the  proof  sheets  of  the  earlier  part  of  a  short 
treatise  entitled  The  Acceptable  Sacrifice,  which  was  carried 
through  the  press  after  his  decease  by  his  old  Bedfordshire 
friend  the  Rev.  George  Cokayn  of  Cople,  minister  of  the 
church  in  Red  Cross  Street.  He  was  buried  in  Mr.  Strudwick's 
vault  in  the  Nonconformist  Campo  Santo,  the  burial-ground  in 
Bunhill  Fields. 

By  his  first  wife  Bunyan  had  five  children.  Elizabeth,  born 
in  1654,  died  in  childhood  before  the  commencement  of  his 
imprisonment.  His  blind  child,  Mary,  born  in  1650,  who  was 
unspeakably  precious  to  him,  also  died  before  her  father. 
One  daughter,  Sarah,  and  his  sons  Thomas  and  Joseph, 
survived  him.  Thomas  became  a  preacher,  and  we  are  told 


xxxviii     BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

was  held  in  good  repute  as  a  man  of  piety  and  discretion, 
but  of  no  remarkable  gifts.  Bunyan's  heroic  wife  Elizabeth 
died  four  years  after  him,  in  1692. 

Much  of  Bunyan's  literary  activity  was  spent  in  controversy. 
And  in  dealing  with  his  opponents  he  did  not  employ  honeyed 
words  or  measured  phrases.  His  language  towards  those 
whom  he  looked  on  as  the  perverters  of  the  truth  was 
vehement  and  downright.  He  wrote  very  bitterly  of  the 
Quakers,  the  Ranters,  the  Roman  Catholics,  the  Church  of 
England.  The  Church  had  not  spared  him,  neither  did  he 
spare  her.  One  of  his  latest  and  most  impressive  warnings 
to  his  adherents  was  not  to  '  touch  the  Common  Prayer.' 
But  we  should  be  very  wrong  if  we  regarded  Bunyaii  as 
a  mere  polemic.  No  one  ever  had  less  of  the  narrow  sectarian 
spirit  of  the  controversialist,  which  thinks  more  of  the  in- 
finitely small  points  on  which  Christians  differ  than  of  the 
infinitely  great  truths  on  which  they  are  agreed.  External 
differences  wrere  nothing  where  there  was  true  Christian 
faith.  And  it  is  this  freedom  from  the  trammels  of  sect 
and  dogma  which  has  given  the  Pilgrims  Progress  its  universal 
popularity.  In  it  we  have  Bunyan's  best  self,  the  Christian, 
not  the  angry  controversialist.  And  thus,  as  Dean  Stanley 
has  said,  it  has  become  '  one  of  the  few  books  which  act 
as  a  religious  bond  to  the  whole  of  English  Christendom.' 
This  peculiar  glory  is  what  above  all  things  Bunyari  would 
have  desired  for  his  little  book,  far  as  he  must  have  been 
from  conceiving  the  possibility  of  it.  ( I  would  be,'  he  says, 
'  as  I  hope  I  am,  a  Christian ;  but  as  for  those  factious  titles 
of  Anabaptist,  Independent,  Presbyterian,  and  the  like,  I  con- 
clude that  they  come  neither  from  Jerusalem  nor  from  Aiitioch, 
but  from  hell  or  Babylon.'  It  was  this  universal  chanty  that 
he  expressed  in  his  last  sermon.  '  Dost  thou  see  a  soul  that 
has  the  image  of  God  in  him  ?  Love  him,  love  him.  This 
man  and  I  must  go  to  heaven  one  day.  Love  one  another 
and  do  good  for  one  another.'  '  There  is,'  writes  Dean  Stanley, 
'  no  compromise  in  his  words,  no  faltering  in  his  convictions  ; 


CHARM  OF  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS   xxxix 

but  his  love  and  admiration  are  reserved  on  the  whole  for  that 
which  all  good  men  love,  and  his  detestation  on  the  whole 
is  reserved  for  that  which  i'.ll  good  men  detest.'  By  the 
catholic  spirit  which  breathes  through  his  immortal  work, 
even  more  than  by  its  homely  vigorous  style,  its  graphic 
power,  its  insight  into  character,  its  e  touches  of  nature,'  which 
fmake  the  whole  world  kin,'  John  Bunyan  '  became  the 
teacher  not  of  any  particular  sect,  but  of  the  universal 
Church  1.' 

It  now  remains  to  speak  of  Bunyan  as  a  writer,  and  of  the 
literary  character  of  the  book  that  has  made  his  name  im- 
mortal. 

The  great  charm  of  the  Pilgrims  Progress  is  the  purity, 
the  homeliness,  of  its  vernacular.  Few  were  ever  such 
complete  masters  of  their  ( sweet  mother  tongue,'  in  its 
native  vigour,  as  Bunyan2.  The  book  stands  unrivalled  as 
a  model  of  our  English  speech,  plain  but  never  vulgar,  full 
of  metaphor  but  never  obscure,  always  intelligible,  always 
forcible,  going  straight  to  the  point  in  the  fewest  and 
simplest  words.  He  is  '  powerful  and  picturesque/  writes 
Mr.  Hallam 3,  (  from  his  concise  simplicity.'  Bunyan's  style 
is  recommended  by  Lord  Macaulay  as  k'an  invaluable  study 
to  every  person  who  wishes  to  gain  a  wide  command  over 
the  English  language.  Its  vocabulary  is  the  vocabulary  of 
the  common  people.  There  is  not  an  expression,  if  we  except 
a  few  technical  terms  of  theology,  that  would  puzzle  the 
rudest  peasant.'  He  remarks  that  there  are  whole  pages 
which  do  not  contain  a  single  word  of  more  than  two  syllables, 
and  that  thus  there  is  no  book  which  shows  so  well  '  how 
rich  the  old  unpolluted  English  is  in  its  proper  wealth,  and 

1  Dean  Stanley's  Address  :  Book  of  the  Bunyan  Festival,  pp.  51-3. 

2  Some  of  the  choicest  examples  of  Bunyan's  racy  vernacular  appear 
in  the  marginal  notes— those  '  windows,'  as  Bunyan  calls  them,  in 
the  verses  appended  to  the  Holy  War,  to  cast  light  upon  the  text. 

3  Literature  of  Europe,  vol.  i.  p.  305. 


xl  BIOGRAPHICAL  INTRODUCTION 

how  little  it  has  been  improved  by  all  that  it  has  borrowed.' 
And  the  reason  of  this  excellence  is  evident.  Banyan's 
English  was  the  English  of  the  Bible.  By  constant  perusal 
his  mind  was  thoroughly  steeped  in  Holy  Scripture ;  he 
thought  its  thoughts,,  spoke  its  words,  adopted  its  images. 
'  In  no  book/  writes  Mr.  Green1,,  c  do  we  see  more  clearly  the 
new  imaginative  force  which  had  been  given  to  the  common 
life  of  Englishmen  by  their  study  of  the  Bible.  Its  English 
is  the  simplest  and  homeliest  English  that  has  ever  been 
used  by  any  great  English  writer,  but  it  is  the  English  of 
the  Bible.' 

To  pass  from  the  style  of  the  Pilgrims  Progress  to  the 
form.  Some  have  questioned  how  best  to  describe  it,  as 
a  religious  allegory  or  a  religious  novel,  and  on  which  ground 
its  claim  to  transcendent  excellence  chiefly  rests.  Such 
discussions  are  fruitless.  It  is  both  the  one  and  the  other. 
And  both  as  allegory  and  as  story  it  surpasses  nearly  all 
allegories  and  stories  which  have  ever  been  written.  But 
it  is  probably  on  its  merits  as  a  story  that  its  universal 
interest  and  its  lasting  vitality  rests.  Lord  Macaulay  has 
said, (  Bunyan  is  as  decidedly  the  first  of  allegorists  as  Demos- 
thenes is  the  first  of  orators,  or  Shakespeare  the  first  of 
dramatists.  Other  allegorists  have  shown  great  ingenuity, 
but  no  other  allegorist  has  ever  been  able  to  touch  the  heart, 
and  to  make  abstractions  objects  of  terror,  pity,  and  of  love.' 
But  \ve  may  question  whether  if  this  had  been  its  only  claim 
to  endurance  the  Pilgrims  Progress  would  have  survived  so" 
long,  and  that  with  a  continually  growing  appreciation.  As 
an  allegory  it  had  many  predecessors,  and  if  regarded  simply 
on  the  ground  of  allegorical  propriety  and  unity  of  aim,  some 
rivals,  if  not  superiors.  That  which  gives  it  its  unique  position 
is ^the  human  interest  and  dramatic  power  which  belongs  to 
it  as  a  biographic  fiction.  This,  which  is  the  secret  of  its 
literary  perfection,  it  has  been  remarked,  is  also  the  secret 
of  its  life.  Bunyan  lives,  and  we  doubt  not  will  continue  to 

1  Short  Jlistory  of  the  English  People,  p.  <>14- 


DESCRIPTIVE   POWERS  xli 

live,,  not  so  much  as  the  religious  allegorist,  but  as  the  novelist 
of  unique  genius,  the  first  indeed  in  point  of  time  of  all 
English  novelists.  '  The  claim  to  be  the  father  of  English 
romance/  writes  Dr.  Allon,  '  which  has  sometimes  been  pre- 
ferred for  Defoe,  really  pertains  to  Bunyan.  Defoe  may 
claim  the  parentage  of  a  species,  but  Bunyan  is  the  creator 
of  the  genus.  Although  intensely  religious  in  purpose, 
character,  and  interest,  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  the  first 
English  novel.'  As  the  parent  of  biographic  fiction  it  is  that 
Bunyan  has  charmed  the  world. 

But  with  all  its  consummate  power,  Bunyan's  genius  was 
reproductive  rather  than  creative.  Its  force  lay  in  vivid 
description,  not  in  invention.  Even  if  we  concede  to  Mr. 
HaIlarTrl7~TKat  '  his  inventive  faculty  is  considerable,'  it  is 
with  the  reserve  that  ( it  is  his  power  of  representation  M'hich 
is  his  distinguishing  excellence.'  He  makes  us  see  what  he 
describes  because  he  had  seen  it  himself.  The  history  of 
the  Pilgrim  is ^ his  owjihistory .  The  varied  experiences  of 
Christiana  and  her  children,  her  sweet  companion  '  young 
Mercy,'  are  such  as  he  had  witnessed  around  him  in  the 
members  of  Mr.  Gifford's  church.  And  it  is  this  which  breathes 
life  into  every  line.  He  was  not  evolving  a  shadowy  career 
out  of  his  own  inner  consciousness — a  dead  abstraction  of 
what  might  be  or  ought  to  be — but  portraying  what  he 
had  himself  known  and  felt. 

The  scenery  and  surroundings  of  his  allegory,  except  when 
borrowed  from  the  great  repertory  of  the  Bible,  are  also  such 
as  he  had  grown  up  amidst  in  his  native  county,  or  had  seen 
in  his  tinker's  wanderings.  '  Born  and  bred,'  writes  Kings- 
ley,  Mil  the  monotonous  midland,  he  has  no  natural  images 
beyond  the  pastures  and  brooks,  the  town  and  country  houses 
he  saw  about  him.'  Bunyan  was  a  man  of  keen  perception, 
and  described  what  he  saw  with  a  homely  graphic  power ; 
but  whenever  he  had  to  draw  on  his  own  resources  his 
pictures  are  frigid  and  formal.  His  mind  was  probably  in- 
1  Literature  of  Europe,  vol.  iii.  p.  588. 


xlii          BIOGRAPHICAL    INTRODUCTION 

sensible  to  the  higher  types  of  beauty  and  grandeur  in  nature. 
All  his  nobler  imagery  is  taken  from  Scripture ;  ( There  is 
scarcely  a  circumstance  or  metaphor  in  the  Old  Testament 
which  does  not  find  a  place  bodily  and  literally  in  the  Pilgrims 
Progress,  and  this  has  made  his  imagination  appear  more 
creative  than  it  really  is1.' 

We  notice  also  this  superiority  of  the  descriptive  to  the 
creative  faculty  in  the  dramatis  personac  of  his  book.  With 
all  their  distinctness — 110  two  alike,  and  each  with  their 
individual  traits  of  manner  and  language,  which  stamp  them 
as  living  persons,  not  mere  lay-figures  named  and  ticketed— 
there  is  not  one  we  can  think  of  as  the  creation  of  his  own 
mind.  They  are  English  men  and  women  of  his  own  time. 

«,  O 

He  had  seen  and  known  every  one  of  them.  Bold  personifi- 
cations as  they  are,  and  to  some  extent  exaggerated  types 
of  some  leading  vice  or  virtue,  they  are  not  mere  pale 
shadows,  like  the  characters  in  most  allegories,  but  beings 
of  flesh  and  blood  like  ourselves.  We  may  be  sure  that  they 
were  all  well  known  in  Bunyan's  own  circle.  He  could  have 
given  a  personal  name  to  every  one,  and  we  could  do  the 
same  to  many.  Dean  Stanley  says  most  truly,  '  We  as  well 
as  he  have  met  with  Mr.  Byends  and  Mr.  Facing-both- 
ways,  and  Mr.  Talkative.  Some  of  us  perhaps  have  seen 
Mr.  Nogood  and  Mr.  Liveloose,  Mr.  Hatelight,  and  Mr. 
Implacable.  All  of  us  have  at  times  been  like  Mr.  Ready- 
to-Halt,  Mr.  Feeblemind  and  Faintheart,  Noheart,  and  Slow- 
pace,  Shortwind,  and  the  young  woman  whose  name  was 
Dull.' 

The  descriptive  touches  of  person  and  bearing,  in  which 
Bunyaii  so  much  excels,  make  these  characters  still  more 
real  to  us.  We  can  see  poor  Feeblemind,  with  his  (  whitcly 
look,  the  cast  in  his  eye,'  and  his  trembling  speech,  and 
Madam  Bubble,  'tall  and  of  a  swarthy  complexion,'  and 
Littlefaith,  '  as  white  as  a  clout '  when  the  thieves  were  on 
him,  and  '  Ready-to-Halt '  coming  along  on  his  crutches,  and 
1  Hallam,  Literature  of  Europe,  vol.  iii.p.  588. 


CHARACTERISTIC  NOMENCLATURE      xliii 

Demas  '  gentlemanlike  '  standing  to  call  passers  by  to  '  come 
and  see.'  It  is  this  intimate  knowledge  of  human  life  and 
human  nature  that  gives  Bunyan  his  great  power  to  rivet 
and  to  charm.  But  it  is  human  life  and  human  nature  in 
their  ordinary  every-day  guise.  Of  those  '  complexities  and 
contradictions  of  the  human  heart  which  we  are  now 
so  fond  of  trying  to  unravel/  as  Kingsley  says,  he  takes 
very  little  note.  They  were  probably  too  subtle  for  his 
apprehension. 

Bunyan' s  genius  in  indicating  character  and  his  command 
of  his  mother-tongue  are  nowhere  more  apparent  than  in  the 
happily  chosen  designations  given  to  his  personages  and  their 
dwellingplaces.  The  name  of  the  man  himself,  of  his  parents, 
of  his  relations  and  of  his  home,  set  him  before  us  in  a  few 
masterly  touches.  Even  if  they  only  appear  incidentally  in 
the  narrative,  quitting  the  stage  as  soon  as  they  have  been 
brought  upon  it,  the  features  of  each  are  so  marked  that  they 
leave  an  indelible  impression.  Who  can  forget  '  Temporary, 
who  dwelt  in  Graceless,  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  next  door 
to  one  Turnback  '•  —or '  Talkative,  the  son  of  one  Say  well,  who 
dwelt  in  Prating  Row' — or  ' Beelzebub's  friend  Sir  Having 
Greedy,'  and, '  Turnaway,  that  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Apostacy,' 
and  '  Valiant-for-the-Truth,  born  in  Darkland,  where  his 
father  and  mother  still  were '  ?  But  Bunyaii's  masterpiece 
in  characteristic  nomenclature  is  Mr.  Byends,  with  his  rela- 
tives and  associates.  If  he  had  not  spoken  a  word  we  should 
have  known  all  about  the  man  that  came  from  '  the  town  of 
Fairspeech,  the  Parson  of  which,  Mr.  Twotongues,  was  his 
mother's  own  brother  by  father's  side,'  who  claimed  kindred 
with  f  my  Lord  Turnabout,  my  Lord  Timeserver,  Mr.  Smooth- 
man  and  Mr.  Anything,'  and  'went  to  school  at  one 
Mr.  Gripeman's  of  Lovegain,  a  market-town  in  the  county 
of  Coveting,'  and  had  '  Hold-the-world,  Moneylove  and 
Saveall '  as  his  schoolfellows,  and  whose  wife  was  '  my  Lady 
Feigning's  daughter,'  and  his  grandfather  ( a  waterman  look- 
ing one  way  and  rowing  another.'  A  man  of  such  ante- 


xliv          BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

cedents  we  are  sure  would  'be  zealous  for  religion  when  he 
went  in  his  silver  slippers,  when  the  sun  shines  and  the 
people  applaud  him/  and  would  be  equally  ready  to  go  and 
dig  with  Demas  in  his  silver-mine  underneath  Hill  Lucre, 
and  'never  be  seen  in  the  way  again.' 

It  would  be  a  thankless  office  to  point  out  the  imperfections 
which  attach  to  the  Pilgrim  s  Progress,  as  to  all  human  com- 
positions. We  may  acquiesce  in  the  soundness  of  Hallam's 
judgement,  that  ( in  the  conduct  of  the  romance  no  rigorous 
attention  to  the  conduct  of  the  allegory  seems  to  have  been 
preserved '  ;  that  it  is  difficult  to  say  why  certain  events 
occur  where  they  do ;  that  '  Vanity  Fair  and  the  Cave  of 
the  two  Giants  might  for  anything  we  see  have  been  placed 
elsewhere.'  We  may  not  be  insensible  to  circumstantial 
incongruities — for  instance,  Faithful's  being  carried  up  to  the 
Heavenly  City  in  the  middle  of  the  pilgrimage  without 
crossing  the  River  of  Death,  and  Hopeful's  joining  Christian 
midway  on,  having  never  passed  through  the  Wicket-gate, 
or  lost  his  burden  at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  We  may  see 
a  want  of  exact  correspondence  between  the  First  and  Second 
Parts — that  that  which  is  a  mere  '  wicket-gate  '  in  the  one  is 
a  considerable  building  with  a  ( summer  parlour '  in  the 
other — that  the  '  Shepherds'  tents '  on  the  '  Delectable 
Mountains '  have  given  place  to  a  '  Palace '  with  a  s  Dining 
Room '  and  a  ( Looking  Glass/  and  a  store  of  jewels ;  we 
may  wonder  at  the  change  in  the  aspect  and  the  town  of 
Vanity,  where  Christiana  and  her  family  settle  down  comfort- 
ably, enjoying  the  society  of  the  good  people  of  the  place, 
and  the  sons  marry  and  have  children.  We  may  be 
offended  at  the  want  of  keeping  which  in  the  course  of  a 
supposed  journey  converts  Christiana's  sweet  babes,  who  are 
terrified  at  the  dog  at  the  Wicket-gate,  and  '  plash  the 
boughs '  for  the  plums,  and  cry  at  having  to  climb  the  hill ; 
whose  faces  are  '  stroked '  by  the  Interpreter ;  who  are 
catechized  and  called  '  good  boys '  by  Prudence  ;  who  sup 
on  '  bread  crumbled  into  basins  of  milk/  and  are  put  to  bed 


THE   TEXT  xlv 

by  Mercy — into  '  young  men  and  strong/  able  to  go  out  and 
fight  with  a  giant  and  give  a  hand  to  the  destruction  of 
Doubting  Castle,  and  becoming  husbands  and  fathers.  But 
these  are  but  motes  in  the  sunbeam,  defects  inseparable  from 
every  work  of  native  genius,  which  we  could  ill  afford  to 
exchange  for  the  tame  accuracy  of  the  schools.  e  If  you 
were  to  polish  it,'  writes  Coleridge,  'you  would  destroy  at 
once  the  reality  of  the  vision.' 

The  text  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  in  the  present  reprint 
is,  in  all  essential  points,  that  of  the  second  edition  of  the 
First  Part,  and  of  the  first  edition  of  the  Second  Part,  pub- 
lished respectively  in  1678  and  1684. 

The  additions  made  in  the  second  edition  of  the  First 
Part  include  the  whole  episodes  of  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman, 
and  of  Mrs.  Diffidence,  with  most  of  that  of  Byends ;  the 
touching  conversation  at  the  House  Beautiful  between  Charity 
and  Christian  with  regard  to  his  family,  and  that  of  Evan- 
gelist with  Christian  and  Faithful  as  they  approach  Vanity 
Fair,  the  pillar  of  Lot's  wife  at  the  Hill  Lucre,  the  trumpeting 
and  bell-ringing  at  the  Celestial  City,  and  the  name  of  the 
Hill  Difficulty. 

The  first  edition,  which  had  been  probably  printed  from 
Bunyan's  own  rude  manuscript,  written  in  prison,  with  some 
slight  corrections  from  an  editor  hardly  better  educated  than 
himself,  abounds  with  orthographical  irregularities,  which  are 
generally  amended  in  the  second  edition. 

In  the  Second  Part  the  orthography  of  the  original  edition 
of  l684<  has  been  generally  followed.  The  spelling  here  is 
usually  more  correct  than*  in  the  First  Part.  While  religiously 
preserving  the  text  unaltered,  the  rule  has  been  to  adopt  the 
more  modern  orthography,  except  in  special  characteristic 
cases.  This  course  has  been  fully  authorized  by  the  fact  that 
there  is  scarcely  a  single  instance  where  in  some  part  of  the 
work  the  modern  spelling  may  not  be  found.  To  preserve 
the  old  orthography  would  therefore  have  been  mere 


xlvi         BIOGRAPHICAL   INTRODUCTION 

pedantry.  The  same  rule  has  been  adopted  with  regard  to 
capital  letters  and  punctuation.  In  both  Bunyan  was  lawless 
and  capricious.  No  good  end  was  to  be  served  in  retain- 
ing an  erroneous  usage,,  and  it  has  been  discarded  without 
question.  Manifest  errors  have  also  been  corrected  without 
scruple. 


THE 

PILGEIMS  PEOGEESS 


FROM 


THIS  WORLD 


TO 


THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME 


DELIVERED    UXDER    THE    SIMILITUDE    OF    A 

DREAM 

WHEREIV    IS    DISCO\7ERED 

THE  MANNER  OF  HIS  SETTING  OUT,  HIS  DANGEROUS 

JOURNEY,  AND  SAFE  ARRIVAL  AT  THE 

DESIRED  COUNTRY 


BV 


JOHN  BUNYAN 


/  have  used  similitudes.     HOSE  A  xii.  10 


THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY 

FOR   HIS   BOOK 


jfirst  I  took  my  Pen  in  hand, 
Tims  for  to  write  ;  /  did  not  understand 

That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  Bool: 
In  such  a  mode  ;    Nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another,  which  when  almost  clone, 
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  t/fy. 
Nay  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 
Fll  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 
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. 


THE    AUTHORS   APOLOGY 


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  puird,  it  came ;   and  so  I  penned 
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  shewed  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. 

Noiv  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 ', 
/  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  Jit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 

I  further  thought,  if  now  I  did  deny 
Those  that  would  have  it  thus,  to  gratify , 
/  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  see. 

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


FOR    HIS   BOOK  5 

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, 


6  THE   AUTHORS   APOLOGY 

( 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,) 
Is  not  without  those  things  that  do  excel 
What  do  in  brave,  but  empty  notions  dwell. 

Well,  yet  I  am  not  fully  satisfied, 
That  this  your  Book  icill  stand  when  soundly  trifd; 

Why,  whafs  the  matter!   it  is  dark,  what  tho? 
But  it  is  feigned.      What  of  that  I  tro  ? 
Some  men  by  feigning  words  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine. 
But  they  want  solidness :   Speak  man  thy  mind. 
They  drown\l  the  weak ;   Metaphors  make  us  blind. 

Solidity,  indeed  becomes  the  Pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  Divine  to  men  : 
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  Jind  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assauli 
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  tliem  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  mr/zr, 
And  things  that  good  are,  of  our  souls  bereave. 


FOR   HIS   BOOK  7 

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  Jind  There  darker  lines  than  in  -my  Book 
He  Jindeth  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, 
That  they  will  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines 
Far  better  than  his  Lies  in  Silver  Shrines. 
Come,   Truth,  although  in  Swadling-clouts,  I  Jind 
Informs  the  Judgment,  rectifies  the  Mind, 
Pleases  the  Understanding,  makes  the   Will 
Submit ;   the  Memory  too  it  doth  Jill 
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! 
Art  thou  ojfendcd?  dost  thou  wish  I  had 


8  THE   AUTHORS   APOLOGY 

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  jit. 

1.  I  Jind  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  breathcth  now  a-days,) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thce,  that  excellentest  are. 

%.  I  Jind  that  men  (as  high  as  Tree*)  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 
To  that  intent ;   But  yet  let   Truth  be  free 
To  make  her  Sallies  upon  Thee,  and  Me, 
Which  way  it  pleases  God.     For  who  knows  how, 
Better  than  he  that  taught  us  Jirst  to  Plough, 
To  guide  our  Mind  and  Pens  for  his  Design  ? 
And  he  makes  base  things  usher  in  Divine. 

3.  I  find  that  holy   Writ  in  many  places, 
Hath  semblance  with  this  method,  where  the  cases 
Doth  call  for  one  thing,  to  set  forth  another: 
Use  it  I  may  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 
Truths  golden  Beams ;   Nay,  by  this  method  mat) 
Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 
And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  Pen, 
ril  6-hew  the  projit  of  my  Book,  and  then 


FOR   HIS   BOOK  9 

Cot ri> nit  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  conies. 

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  New-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. 

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


10    THE   AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY  FOR  HIS  BOOK 

WouWst  thou  be  in  a  Dream,  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or  wouldest  thou  In  a  moment  laugh*  and  iceep  ? 

Wonkiest  thou  lose  thyself,  and  catch  no  harm  ? 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm  ? 

Wouldest  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  knoic'st  not  ichat 
And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  bltst  or  not, 
By  reading  the  same  lines  ?     O  then  come  hither, 
And  lay  my  Book,  thy  Head,  and  Heart  together. 

JOHN  BUXYAX. 


THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS: 


IN  THE   SIMILITUDE  OF  A 


DREAM 


The  Gaol. 


A  S  I  walked  through_the  wilderness  of  this  world,  I  lighted 
JT\^  on  a  certain  place,  where  was  a  Den  ;  and 
I  laid  me  down  in  that  place  to  sleep :  and  as  I 
slept  I  dreamed  a  Dream.  1  dreamed,  and  behold  I  saw  a  man 
cloathed  with  Rags,  standing  in  a  certain  place,  with  his  face 


CHRISTIAN  BREAKS  OUT  WITH  A  LAMENTABLE  CRY. 

from  his  own  House,  a  Book  in  his  hand,  and  a  great  burden 
upon  his  back.  I  looked,  and  saw  him  open  the  Book, 
and  read  therein  ;  and  as  he  read,  he  wept  and  trembled  :  and 
not  being  able  longer  to  contain,  he  brake  out 

i  .  ,  7     77   r    7 

with  a  lamentable  cry  ;  saying,  what  shall  I  do  ? 

In  this  plight  therefore  he  went  home,  and  refrained  himself 
as  long  as  he  could,  that  his  Wife  and  Children  should  not 


11 


12  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

perceive  his  distress ;  but  he  could  not  be  silent  long,  because 
that  his  trouble  increased :  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 
bowels,  I  your  dear  friend,  am  in  myself  undone,  by  reason  of 
a  burden  that  lieth  hard  upon  me  .'/moreover,  I  am  for  certain 
informed  that  this  our  City  will  be  burned  withjire 
from  Heaven,  in  which  fearjuloverthrow,  both 
myself,  with  thee,  my  Wife,  and  you  my  sweet  babes,  shall 
Heknewnoicay  miserably  come  to  ruin;  except  (the  which,  yet  I 
of  escape  as  yet.  see  not)some  way  of  escape  can  be  found,  whereby 
we  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 :  wherefore  instead  of  sleeping,  he  spent  it 
in  sighs  and  tears.  So  when  the  morning  was  come,  they 
would  know  how  he  did ;  he  told  them,  worse  and  worse. 
He  also  set  to  talking  to  them  again,  but  they  began  to  be 
Carnal  Physic  hardened;  they  also  thought  to  drive  away  his 
for  a  Sick  Soul,  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  himself  to  his  Chamber  to  pray  for,  and  pity 
them ;  and  also  to  condole  his  own  misery  :  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  wav,  and  that  wav,  as  if  he 

V     '  « 


THE   ADVICE    OF   EVANGELIST  13 

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 l  coming  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,  If  this  be  thy  condition,  why 
standest  thou  still  ?  He  answered,  Because  I  know  not 
whither  to  go.  Then  he  gave  him  a  Parch- 

&  Conviction  of 

ment  Roll,  and  there  was  written   within,  Fly     the  necessity  of 
from  the  wrath  to  come. 

The  Man  therefore  read  it,  and  looking  upon  Evangelist 
very  carefully ;  said,  Whither  must  I  fly  ?  Then  said  Evan- 
gelist, 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  Christ  and  the 
in  your  eye,  and  go  up  directly  thereto,  so  shalt  v'av  to  Mm  can- 

not  be  found 

thou  see  the  Gate ;  at  which  when  thou  knock-     without  the 
est,  it  shall  be  told  thee  what  thou  shalt  do.        Word' 

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 

1  Christian  no  sooner  leaves  the  World  but  meets 
Evangelist,  who  lovingly  him  greets 
With  tidings  of  another  :  and  doth  show 
Him  how  to  mount  to  that  from  this  below. 


14  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  behind  him,  but  fled 
towards  the  middle  of  the  Plain. 

Then  that  fin  ^^e  Neighbors  also  came  out  to  see  him  run, 

from  the  wrath     and  as  he  ran,  some  mocked,  others  threatned ; 

to  come  are  A  .  .  , 

Gazing  stock  and  some  cried  alter  him  to  return.  And 
to  the  world.  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  distance 

Obstinate  and  J 

Pliable  follow  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,  Where- 
fore are  you  come  ?  They  said,  To  perswade  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 
Obstinate.  comforts  behind  us! 

Yes,  said  Christian,  (for  that  was  his  name)  because  that 
all  is  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with  a  little 

Christian.  J  . 

oi  that  that  1  am  seeking  to  enjoy,  and  it  you 
will  go  along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you  shall  fare  as  I 
myself;  for  there  where  I  go,  is  enough,  and  to  spare; 
Come  away,  and  prove  my  words. 

Ous.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you  leave  all  the 
World  to  Jind  them? 

CHR.  I  seej<__an  Inheritance^  incorrupt il)h\  undc/ilcd,  and 
that  fadetfi  not  uicay ;  and  it  is  laid  up  in  Heaven,  and 
safe  there,  to  be  bestowed  at  the  time  appointed  on  them 


CHRISTIAN   FLEES 


15 


that  diligently   seek    it.      Read  it   so,    if  you  will,  in    my 
Book. 

OBS.   Tush,  said  Obstinate,  away  with  your  Book ;  will  you 
go  back  with  us,  or  no  ? 


CHRISTIAN  FLEES  FROM  THE  CITY  OF  DESTRUCTION. 
CHR.  No,  not  I,  said  the  other :    because  I  have  laid  my 

V 

hand  to  the  Plough. 

OKS.  Come  then,  Neighbor  Pliable,  let  us  turn  again,  and 
go  home  without  him ;  There  is  a  Company  of  these  Craz'd- 
headed  Coxcombs,  that  when  they  take  a  fancy  by  the  end, 


16  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

are  wiser  in  their  own  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 !  more  Fools  still  ?  be  ruled  by  me  and  go  back  ; 
who  knows  whither  such  a  brainsick  fellow  will  lead  yon  ?     Go 
back,  go  back,  and  be  wise. 
Christian  and  CHR.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  me  Neigh- 

b01'    Pliable  '      there   are    SUch    thingS   t0    be   had 

which    I    spoke    of,    and    many    more    Glories 
besides.     If  you   believe  not  me,  read  here  in  this  Book ; 
and    for  the    truth  of  what    is   exprest  therein,  behold  all 
is  confirmed  by  the  blood  of  him  that  made  it. 
pliable  content-          PLI.  Well  Neighbor  Obstinate,  (said  Pliable) 

ed  to  go  u-ith  T    J       '       *  *  •    j.        r     •    j.       i    ± 

Christian.  1  begin   to  come  to  a  point ;    1    intend   to   go 

along  with  this  good  man,  and  to  cast  in  my  lot  with  him  : 
But  my  good  Companion,  do  yon  know  the  way  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  thev 
went  both  together. 

Obstinate  goes  OBS.  And   I  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said 

railing  baa.  Obstinate.  I  will  be  no  Companion  of  such 
misled  fantastical  Fellows. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  when  Obstinate  was  gone 
Talk  between  back,  Christian  and  Pliable  went  talking  over 
Pliable.  the  Plain ;  and  thus  they  began  their  dis- 

course. 

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 


GODS   UNSPEAKABLE   THINGS  17 

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  two 
here,  tell  me  now  further  what  the  things  are,  and  how  to  be 
enjoyed,  whither  we  are  going  ? 

CHR.  I  can  better  conceive  of  them  with  my  Mind,  than 
speak    of    them    with    my   Tongue :     But   yet     Go#8  thin(J8 
since  you  are  desirous  to  know,  I  will  read  of    unspeakable. 
them  in  my  Book. 

PLI.  And  do  you  think  that  the  words  of  your  Book  are 
certainly  true  ? 

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

PLI.    Well  said  ;  what  things  are  they  ? 

CHR.  There  is  an  endless  Kingdom  to  be  inhabited,  and  i 
everlasting  life  to  be  given  us,  that  we   may  inhabit  that 
Kingdom  for  ever. 

PLI.    Well  said ;  and  what  else  ? 

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

PLT.   This  is  excellent ;  and  what  else  ? 

CHR.  There  shall  be  no  more  crying,  nor  sorrow ;  For  he  / 
that  is  owner  of  the  place,  will  wipe  all  tears  from  our  eyes. 

PLI.  And  what  company  shall  we  have  there  ? 

CHR.  There  we  shall  be  with  Seraphims,  and  Chernbins, 
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  walking  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 


18  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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?  How  shall  we  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 
The  Slough  of  talk,  they  drew  near  to  a  very  Miry  Slough,  that 
Dtspond.  wag  jn  ^ne  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  wallowed 
for  a  time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with  the  dirt ;  and 
Christian,  because  of  the  burden  that  was  on  his  back,  began 
to  sink  in  the  Mire. 

PLI.  Then  said  Pliable,  Ah,  Neighbor  Christian,  where  are 
you  now  ? 

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  while  of?  If  we  have  such  ill  speed  at  our  first  setting 
out,  what  may  we  expect,  ^twixt  this  and  our  Journeys  end  ? 
it  is  not  enough  May  I  get  out  again  with  my  life,  you  shall 
to  be  Pliable.  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. 


THE    SLOUGH    OF   DISPOND  19 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the  Slough  of 

o 

Dispond  alone ;    but    still  he   endeavoured    to     Christian  in 
struggle  to  that  side  of  the  Slough  that  was     trouble  seeks 
still  further  from  his  own  House,  and  next  to    further  from 
the  Wicket-gate  ;  the  which  he  did,  but  could     his  Olon  House' 
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  why  did  you  not  look  for  the  steps?     The  Promises. 

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

N     •*•"-    ' 

HELP.      Then,  said  he,  Give  me  thy  hand !    So  he  gave  him 
his  hand,  and  he  drew  him  out,  and  set  him     Heip  Ufis  him 
upon  sound  ground,  and  bid  him  go  on  his  way.     out- 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  pluckt  him  out,  and  said,  Sir, 
wherefore,  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  Mini  slough  is 

'J  °  What  makes  the 

such  a  place  as  cannot  be  mended.     It  is  the     slough  of 
descent  whither  the  scum  and  filth  that  attends 
conviction  for  sin  doth  continually  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  Surveyors,  been  for  above  this  sixteen  hundred 

c 


THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

years  imployed  about  this  patch  of  ground,  if  perhaps  it 
might  have  been  mended  :  yea,  and  to  my  knowledge,  said 
\ie*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 ;  (and  they  that  can  tell,  say,  they  are  the  best 
Materials  to  make  good  ground  of  the  place ;)  if  so  be  it 


HELP  LIFTS  CHRISTIAN  OUT  OF  TIIK  SLOUGH  OF  DISPOND. 

might  have  been  mended ;  but  it  is  the  Slough  of  Diipond 
still,  and  so  will  be,  when  they  have  done  what  they  can. 

True,  there  are  by  the  direction  of  the  Lawgiver,  certain 
The  Promises  good  and  substantial  Ste"J)s,  placed  even  through 
of  forgiveness  the  very  midst  of  this  Slouch  •  but  at  such  time 

and  acceptance  . 

to  life  it/ faith      as  this  place  doth  much  spue  out  its  hitn,  as  it 

doth  against  change  of  Weather,  these  steps  are 

hardly   seen  ;    or  if  they  be,  Men    through  the  dizziness   of 


PLIABLE    GOT   HOME  21 

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     puaue  got 
came  to  visit  him  :  and  some  of  them  called  him     home  and  is 

visited  of  ins 

wise  Man   for  coming  back  ;    and  some  called     Neighbors. 


him  Fool,  for  hazarding  himself  with  Christian;  melit^ythem  at 
others  again  did  mock  at  his  Cowardliness  ;  his  return- 
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  behind  his  back. 

And  thus  much  concerning  Pliable. 

Nowr  as  Christian  was  walking  solitary  by  himself,  he  espied 
one  afar  off  come   crossing  over  the  field    to  woridi  - 

meet  him  ;    and  their  hap  was  to  meet  just  as     Wiseman  meets 

e         i        ,1  rpn  with  Christian. 

they  were  crossing  the  way  or  each  other.  Ine 
Gentleman'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.    How  now,  good  fellow,  whither  away     Talk  be 
after  this  burdened  manner?  ^wisema 

CHR.     A  burdened  manner   indeed,  as   ever     Christian. 
1    think    poor   creature    had.      And   whereas    you    ask    me, 


THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

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

WORLD.  Heist  thou  a  Wife  and  Children? 

CHR.  Yes,  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  burden,  that  I  can- 
not take  that  pleasure  in  them  as  formerly :  methinks,  I  am 
as  if  I  had  none. 

WOULD.    Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me,  if  I  give  thec  counsel? 

CHR.    If  it  be  good,  I  will ;  for  I  stand  in  need  of  good 
counsel. 
Mr.  Worldly-  WORLD.    /  would  advise  thec  then,  that  thou 

^CoimseTto  wlth  ctl1  sPeed  Sei  tll"sctf  rlcl  °f  %  burden;  for 

Christian.  thou  wilt  never  be  settled  in  thy  mind  till  then  : 

nor  canst  thou  enjoy  the  benefits  of  the  blessing  which  God  hath 
bestowed  upon  thee  till  then. 

CHR.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be  rid  of  this 
heavy  burden  ;  but  get  it  off  myself  I  cannot :  nor  is  there 
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. 

» 

WOULD.  Who  bid  thee  go  this  way  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. 


A 


Mr  Worldly-  WoELD.  I  beshrow  him  for  his  counsel;  there 

Wiseman  \s  noi  a  more  dangerous  and  troublesome  wait  in 

Condemned  7  T    7          •       •                        7-77777- 

Evangelists  the  world  than  is  that  unto  which  he  hath  directed 

Counsel. 


ruled  by  his  counsel.  Thou  hast  met  with  something  (ax 
I  perceive)  already  ;  for  I  see  the  dirt  of  the  Slough  of  Dispond 
is  upon  thee  •  but  that  Slough  /-v  the  beginning  of  the  sorrows 
that  do  attend  those  that  go  on  in  that  way.  Hear  me,  I  am 
older  than  thou!  thou  art  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way  which 
thou  goest,  Wearisoinness,  Painfulness,  Hunger,  /Y/v'/.v,  Nalted- 
netui,  Sword,  Lions,  Dragon*,  Darkness,  and  in  a  word,  death, 


MR.  WORLDLY-WISEMAN  23 

and  what  not  ?  These  things  are  certainly  true,  having  been 
confirmed  by  many  testimonies.  And  why  should  a  man  so 
carelessly  cast  away  himself,  by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger? 

CHR.  Why,  Sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is     n>e  frame  of 
more  terrible  to  me  than  all  these  things  which     ^fM^a7 
you  have  mentioned  :   nay,  methinks  I  care  not     Christians. 
what  I  meet  with  in  the  way,  so  be  I  can   also  meet  with 
deliverance  from  my  burden. 

WORLD.  How  earnest  thou  by  thy  burden  atjirst  ? 

CHR.  By  reading  this  Book  in  my  hand. 

AVoRLD.  I  thought  so;  and  it  is  happened  unto  thee  as 
to  other  weak  men,  who  meddling  with  things  too  Wortdiy-Wue- 

_  77      7       «  7r .  ,,        7.  man  does  not 

high  jor  them,  do  suddenly  jail  into  thy  disirac-     like  that  Men 
tions ;    which  distractions  do    not    only  unman     ^e^t^fnread- 
men,  (as  thine  I  perceive  has  done  thee}  but  they     ing  the  Bible. 
run  them  upon  desperate  ventures,  to  obtain  they  know  not 
what. 

CHR.  I  know  what  I  would  obtain  ;  it  is  ease  for  my  heavy 
burden. 

WORLD.     But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease  this  way,  seeing 
so  many  dangers  attend  it,  especially,  since  (hadst     iviiether 
thou  but  patience  to  hear  me,)  I  could  direct  thee  to    Prefers  MO- 
the  obtaining  of  what  thou  desirest,  without  the     r 
dangers  that  thou  in  this  way  wilt  run  thy  self    Gate. 
into :  yea,  and  the  remedy  is  at  hand.     Besides,  I  will  add^ 
that  instead  of  those  dangers,  thou  shalt  meet  with  much  safety, 
friendship,  and  content. 

CHR.   Pray,  Sir,  open  this  secret  to  me. 

WORLD.  Why  in  yonder  Village,  (the  Village  is  named 
Morality)  there  dwells  a  Gentleman,  whose  name  is  Legality, 
a  very  judicious  man  (and  a  man  of  a  very  good  name)  that 
has  skill  to  help  men  off  with  such  burdens  as  thine  are  from 
their  shoulders:  yea,  to  my  knowledge  he  hath  done  a  great 
deal  of  good  this  way :  Aye,  and  besides,  he  hath  skill  to  cure 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

those  that  are  somewhat  crazed  in  tlieir  wits  with  their  burdens. 
To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayest  go,  and  be  helped  presently. 
His  house  is  not  quite  a  mile  from  this  place;  and  if  he 
should  not  be  at  home  himself,  he  hath  a  pretty  young  man 
to  his  Son,  whose  name  is  Civility,  that  can  do  it  (to  speak  on) 
as  well  as  the  old  Gentleman  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  would  not  wish  thee,  thou, 
mayest  send  for  thy  Wife  and  Children  to  thee  to  this  Village, 
where  there  are  houses  now  stand  empty,  one  of  which  thou 
mayest  have  at  reasonable  rates  :  Provision  is  there  also  cheap 
and  good,  and  that  which  will  make  thy  life  the  more  happy,  is, 
to  be  sure  there  thou  shalt  live  by  honest  neighbors,  in  credit 
and  good  fashion. 

Christian  Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand,  but 

Snared  by  presently  he  concluded  ;   if  this  be  true  which 

Mr.  Worldly-  .  J  .  . 

Wiseman's  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  ? 
Mount  Sinai.  WORLD.  Do  you  see  yonde  r  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 
Christian  the  waj  s^e  did  hang  so  much  over,  that 


that  Christian  was  afraid  to  venture  further,  lost 
would  fail  on  the  Hill  should  fall  on  his  head:  wherefore 
there  he  stood  still,  and  he  wot  not  what  to  do. 
Also  his  burden,  now,  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. 


EVANGELIST  FINDS  CHRISTIAN  UNDER  MOUNT  SINAI, 


MOUNT   SINAI  27 

Here  therefore  he  sweat,  and  did  quake  for  fear.     And  now 
he    began    to    be    sorry    that    he    had    taken     Evangelist 
Mr.  Worldly-  Wisemans  counsel ;  and  with  that    ft?d?tfl. 

u  .  Christian 

he  saw  Evangelist  coining  to  meet  him  ;  at  the     under  Mount 
sight  also  of  whom  he  began  to  blush  for  shame,     iwketh  severely 
So    Evangelist    drew    nearer    and    nearer,  and     vpon  him- 
coining  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  :  where- 

Evangehst 

fore,  at  present  he  stood  speechless  before  him.     reasons  afresh 
Then  said  Evangelist  farther,  Art  not  thou  the 
man  that   I  found  crying  without  the  walls  of  the   City  of 
Destruction  ? 

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

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

CHK.   Yes,  dear  Sir,  said  Christian. 

EVAN.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly  turned  aside? 
for  thou  art  now  out  of  the  way. 

CHK.  I  met  with  a  Gentleman,  so  soon  as  I  had  got  over 
the  Slough  of  Dispond,  who  perswaded  me  that  I  might, 
in  the  Village  before  me,  find  a  nfan  that  could  take  off  my 
burden. 

EVAN.    What  was  he  ? 

CHK.  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  ? 

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

EVAN.  And  what  said  he  then  ? 

c3 


28  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

CHK.  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. 

EVAK.  And  what  said  lie  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  there- 
fore going;  to  yonder  Gate  to  receive  further  direction  how 

o         &  . 

I  may  get  to  the  place  of  deliverance.  So  he  said  that  lie 
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 
shew  thee  the  words  of  God.  So  he  stood  trembling.  Then 
(said  Evangelist)  See  that  ye  refuse  not  him  that  spedkefh  ;  for 
Evangelist  if  they  escaped  not  who  refused  liim  that  spake  on 

CChristSnof  Earth,  much  more  shall  not  :ce  escape,  if  we  turn 
his  Error.  away  from  him  that  speaketh  from  Heaven.  He 

said  moreover,  Now  the  just  shall  live  by  faith  ,•  but  if  any 
man  draws  back,  my  soul  shall  have  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  draw  back  thy  foot  from  the  way  of  peace,  even 
almost  to  the  hazarding  of  thy  perdition. 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  foot  as  dead,  crying.  Woe- 

»'          ^J ' 

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. 


THE   ADVICE   OF  EVANGELIST  29 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying,  Give  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     Mr.  Worldly- 
Worldly -Wiseman1,  and  rightly  is  he  so  called  ;     described  by 
partly,  because  he  savoureth  only  the  Doctrine  of    Evangelist. 
this  world  (therefore  he  always  goes  to  the  Town  of  Morality 
to  Church)  and  partly  because  he  loveth  that  Doctrine  best, 
for   it   saveth  him   from  the  Cross ;    and.  -because  he   is  of 
this  carnal  temper,  therefore  he  seeketh  to  pre- 


vent  my  ways,  though  right.     Now  there  are     discovers  the 
three  things   in  this   mans   counsel    that  thou     Mr.  Woridiy- 
must  utterly  abhor  :  Wiseman. 

1.  His  turning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

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

3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  leadeth  unto 
the  administration  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  feic  there  be  that  Jind 
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  odious  unto  thee ;  for  thou  art  to  prefer  it  before  the 

1  When  Christians  unto  carnal  men  give  ear, 
Out  of  their  way  they  go,  and  pay  for't  dear 
For  master  Worldly-Wiseman  can  but  shew 
A  Saint  the  way  to  Bondage  and  to  woe. 


30  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Ins  father,  and  mother,  (uid  icife,  and 
children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters ;  yea,  and  his  oicn  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 
Doctrine  thou  must  abhor. 

Thirdly,  Thou  must  hate  his  setting  of  thy  feet  in  the 
Avay  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, 
T/ie  Bond-  ^  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.  Worldlij- 
Wiseman  is  an  alien,  and  Mr.  Legality  a  cheat :  and  for  his 
son  Civility,  notwithstanding  his  simpering  looks,  he  is  but 
an  hypocrite,  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  turn- 
ing thee  from  the  way  in  which  I  had  set  thee.  After  this 
Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  Heau-ns  for  confirmation 
of  what  he  had  said ;  and  with  that  there  came  word*  and 
tire  out  of  the  Mountain  under  which  poor  Christian  stood, 
that  made  the  hair  of  his  flesh  stand.  The  \\ords  \\ere  thus 
pronounced,  As  many  as  are  of  (he  icurks  of  the  Laic,  are 


CHRISTIAN    AT   THE    GATE  31 

under  the  cnrse ;  for  it  is  written.  Cursed  is  every  one  that 
coutinnctli  not  in  all  things  which  are  written  in  the  Book  of 
the  Law  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  prevalency  with  him  to 
forsake  the  right  Avay.  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     Christian 
I  not  be   abandoned  for  this,  and  sent  back     he  ™ay  yelt 
from    thence    ashamed  ?     I    am    sorry    I    have     be  HaPPV' 
hearkened  to  this  man's   counsel,  but   may  my   sin    lie    for- 
*  •  »  ? 

>D 

EVAXG.  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  good,  to  tread  in  forbidden  Evangelist 
paths  :  yet  will  the  man  of  the  Gate  receive  comforts  itim. 
tliee,  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 -Wisemans  counsel.  So  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  Christian  got  up  to  the  Gate.  Now  over  the 
Gate  there  was  written,  Knock  and  it  shall  be  opened  unto 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

you.    He  knocked  therefore l,  more  than  once  or  twice,  saying, 

May  I  now  enter  here?   will  he  within 
Open  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
An  undeserving  Rebel?    then  shall  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  high. 


CHRISTIA.V  AT  THE  WICKET-GATE. 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  Person  to  the  Gate,  named  Good- 
He  that  will  enter  in  must  first  without 
Stand  knocking  at  the  Gate,  nor  need  he  doubt 
That  is  a  knocker  but  to  enter  in ; 
For  God  can  love  him,  and  forgive  his  sin. 


ADMITTED   BY    GOOD    WILL  33 

will,  who  asked  Who  was  there?  and  whence  he  came?  and 
what  he  would  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  that  by  this  Gate  is 
the  way  thither,  know  if  you  are  willing  to  let  me  in. 

GOOD  WILL.  I  am  willing  with  all  my  heart,     The  Gate  will 
said  he  ;  and  with  that  he  opened  the  Gate.  llXntlrted 

So,  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other     sinners. 
gave  him  a  pull ;   Then  said  Christian,  What  means  that  ? 
The  other  told  him,  A  little  distance  from  this  Gate,  there 
is  erected  a  strong  Castle,  of  which  Beelzebub  is     Satan  envies 
the  Captain :   from  thence  both  he,  and  them     f 
that  are  with  him  shoot  Arrows  at  those  that     Gate- 
come  up  to  this  Gate  ;  if  haply  they  may  die  before  they  can 
enter  in.     Then   said  Christian,   I   rejoice   and     Christian 
tremble.    So  when  he  was  got  in,  the  Man  of 
the  Gate  asked  him,  Who  directed  him  thither  ?     trembling. 

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

,  Good  Will  and 

I  must  do.  Christian. 

GOOD  WILL.  An  open  Door  is  set  before  tJiee,  and  no  man 
can  shut  it. 

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

Goon  WILL.  But  how  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  know  of  your  coming? 
CHR.  Yes,  my  Wife  and  Children  saw  me  at  the  first,  and 
called  after  me  to  turn  a^ain  :  Also  some  of  my  Neighbors 

^j  »•  >•— ) 

stood  crying,  and  calling  after  me  to  return  ;   but  I  put  my 
Fingers  in  my  Ears,  and  so  came  on  my  way. 

GOOD  WILL.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  you,  to  perswade 
you  to  go  back  ? 


34  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  ivhy  did  he  not  come  through  ? 
CHK.  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 
nave  Company      would  not  adventure  further.     Wherefore  get- 
°Ut     ^n     °11^  aam    on  that  side   next  to  his  own 


and  yet  go  House,  he  told  me,  I  should  possess  the  brave 

thither  alone.  i  ^        i  •  c  7  • 

Country  alone  lor  him  :    ho  he  went  Ins  way, 

•  »    * 

and  I  came  mine.     He  after  Obstinate,  and  I  to  this  Gate. 

GOOD  AViLL.  Then  said  Good  Will,  Alas  poor  Man,  is  the 
('celestial  Glorv  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 
Christian  ac-  there  is  no  betterment  'twixt  him  and  myself. 

cnseth  himself        ^     t  ]       went  J^  to  his  Own   house,  but  I 

before  the  man 

at  the  Gate.  also  turned  aside  to  go  in  the  way  of  death, 
beino-  perswaded  thereto  by  the  carnal  arguments  of  one 

O      I  •  O 

Mr.  H  rorldly  -  J  J  r  isem  an. 

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, 

C5  » 

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.  Wiry,  truly  I  do  not  know  what  had  become  of  me 


CHRISTIAN    IS   COMFORTED  35 

there,  had  not  Evangelist  happily  met  me  again  as  I  was 
musing  in  the  midst  of  my  clumps :  but  'twas  Gods  mercy  that 
lie  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. 

GOOD    WILL.      We    make     no    objections    against     any, 
notwithstanding  all  that  they  have  done  before     Christian  com- 
they  come  hither,  they  in   no  wise  are  cast  out,     forted  again. 
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 

Christian 
IS    the    way  thou    must    go.       It    was    cast    up   by       directed  yet  on 

the  Patriarchs,  Prophets,  Christ,  and  his  Apos- 
tles ;    and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  Rule  can  make  it :   This  is 
Ihe  way  thou  must  go. 

CHR.  But  said  Christian.  Is  there  no  turnin&snor     Christian 

0  afraid  of  losing 

windings  by  which  a  Stranger  may  lose  the  way?     MS  way, 

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     Christian 
asked  him  further,  If  he  could  not  help  him  off    weary  of  his 
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  is  no 
there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back  itself.  deliverance 

J rom  the  guilt 

Then   Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,     and  burden  oj 
and  to  address  himself  to  his  Journey.     So  the     deathandblood 
other  told  him,  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some     of  Christ, 


36  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

distance  from  the  Gate,  he  would  come  at  the  House  of  the 
Interpreter;  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. 
Christian  Then  he  went  on,  till  he  came  at  the  House 

Hwe^ftke  of  the  Interpreter,  where  he  knocked  over  and 
interpreter.  over .  at  last  one  came  to  the  Door,  and  asked 
Who  was  there  ? 

CHR.  Sir,  here  is  a  Traveller,  who  was  bid  by  an  acquain- 
tance of  the  Good-man  of  this  House,  to  call  here  for  my 
profit :  I  would  therefore  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  called  here,  you  would  shew  me 
excellent  things,  such  as  would  be  an  help  to  me  in  my 
Journey. 

INTER.  Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Come  in,  I  will  shew 
He  is  enter-  thee  that  which  will  be  profitable  to  thee.  So 
tained.  he  commanded  his  Man  to  light  the  Candle,  and 

illumination.  b;d  Christian  follow  him  ;  so  he  had  him  into 
a  private  Room,  and  bid  his  Man  open  a  Door ;  the  which 
Christian  sees  when  he  had  done,  Christian  saw  the  Picture  of 
a  brave  Picture.  a  very  grave  Person  hang  up  against  the  Wall, 

The  fashion  of  an(l  this  was  the  fashion  of  it.  //  had  eyes  lift 
the  Picture.  u^  fo  ffearen^  the  best  of  Books  in  hi*  hand,  the 

Law  of  Truth  was  written  upon  his  lips,  the  World  was 
behind  his  bach';  it  stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with  Men,  and 
a  Crown  of  Gold  did  hang  orer  his  head. 

CHR.   Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 

INTKK.     The    Man    whose    Picture    this    is,    is    one    of  a, 


THE   DUSTY   PARLOUR  37 

thousand;  he  can  beget  Children,  travel  in  birth  with 
Children,  and  nurse  them  himself  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  The  meaning  of 
him  stand  as  if  he  pleaded  with  Men :  And  the  Picture- 
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  lvjiy  h&  shewfd 
Picture  first,  because  the  Man  whose  Picture  Mm  the  Picture 

first, 

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  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. 

*'      t_j 

Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  very 
large  Parlour  that  was  full  of  dust,  because  never  swept ;  the 
which,  after  he  had  reviewed  a  little  while,  the  Interpreter 
called  for  a  man  to  sweep.  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  I 
of  a  Man  that  was  never  sanctified  by  the  sweet  Grace  of  the  / 
Gospel :  the  chist,  is  his  Original  Sin,  and  inward  Corruptions 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

that  have  defiled  the  whole  Man.  He  that  began  to  sweep 
j  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 


THK  DUSTY  PARLOUR  ix  THE  INTERPRETER'S  Housi;. 

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  snve 

'  o 

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  sav,  even  as 

thou  sawest  the  Damsel  lay  the  dust  by  sprinkling  the  Floor 

»  .     i  ~ 

with  Water,  so  is  sin  vanquished  and  subdued,  and  the  soul 
made  clean,  through  the  faith  of  it,  and  consequently  fit  for 
the  King  of  Glory  to  inhabit. 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  Dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took  him 


PASSION   AND   PATIENCE  39 

by  the  hand,  and  had  him  into  a  little  Room,  where  sate  two 
little  Children,  each  one  in  his  Chair.  The  He  shetrefl  j,^ 
name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  of  the  other  ^«*fon  and 

Patiencf. 

Patience.     Passion  seemed  to  be   much  discon-     Passion  u-m 

i  r,    j  •  •  rni  /~»7      •  have  al1  now- 

tent,  but  Patience  was  very  quiet,     ihen  Chris- 
tian asked,  What  is  the  reason  of  the  discontent  of  Passion  ? 
The  Interpreter  answered,  The  Governor  of  them  would  have 
him  stay  for  his  best  things  till  the  beginning  of  the  next 
(year;    but  he  will  have  all  now:    'Bui  Patience     Patience  is  for 
*  is  willing  to  wait,  lvaitinff' 

Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion,  and  brought  him 
a  Bag  of  Treasure,  and  poured  it  down  at  his     passion  MS  MS 
feet ;  the  which  he  took  up,  and  rejoiced  therein  ;     ae^re- 
and  withal,   laughed  Patience  to   scorn.      But 

And  quickly 

I  beheld  but  a  while,  and  he  had  lavished  all     lavishes  all 
away,  and  had  nothing  left  him  but  Rags. 

CHK.   Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,     The  matter 
Expound  this  matter  more  fully  to  me.  expounded. 

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  will  have 
all  now,  this  year ;  that  is  to  say,  in  this  World ;  $o  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,  \v--iu 

A  Bird  in  the  Hand  is  worth  two  in  the  Bush,  is  Man  for  a  Bird 
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. 

CHII.  Then  said  Christian,  Jfow  I  sec  that  Patience  hats  the  > 
best  Wisdom ,•  and  that  upon  many  accounts,  patience  had  I 
1.  Because  he  stays  for  the  best  things.  2.  And 


40  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

also  because  he  will  have  the  glory  of  Ins.,  when  the  other  hath 
nothing  but  Rags. 

INTER.  Nay,  you  may  add  another ;  to  wit,  the  Glory  of 
I  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 

Things  that  are  *asi '  ^or  fo^  must  giye  place  to  last,  because 
first  must  give  last  must  have  his  time  to  come,  but  last  gives 

place,  but  things         ,~  .  „  .  . 

that  are  last,        place  to  nothing;    for  there  is  not  another  to 

are  lasting.  succeedT"  He  therefore  that  hath  his  Portion 

Jirst,  must  needs  have  a  time  to  spend  it ;  but  he  that  has  his 

Portion  last,  must  have  it  lastingly.     Therefore  it  is  said  of 

Dices  had  his       Dives,  In  thy  lifetime  thou  rcceivedest  thy  good 

good  things  things,  and  likewise  Lazarus  evil  things ;    But 

now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented. 

CHR.  Then  I  perceive,  "'tis  not  best  to  covet  things  that  are 
now  ;  but  to  wait  for  things  to  come. 

INTER.  You  say  Truth  ;  For  the  things  that  are  seen,  arc 
Temporal ;  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen,  are 

The  first  things  r  & 

a>-e  but  Eternal.  But  though  this  be  so  ;  yet  since 

things  present,  and  our  fleshly  appetite,  are 
such  near  Neighbors  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,  cast- 
ing much  Water  upon  it  to  quench  it :  yet  did  the  Fire  burn 
higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  meatis  this  ? 

The  Interpreter  answered,  This  fire  is  the  work  of  Grace 


THE   VALIANT    MAN  41 

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 
shalt  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,  notwith- 
standing 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  maintained  in  the  soul. 

I  saw  also  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  again  by  the  hand, 
and  led  him  into  a  pleasant  place,  where  was  builded  a  stately 
Palace,  beautiful  to  behold  ;  at  the  sight  of  which,  Christian 
was  greatly  delighted ;  he  saw  also  upon  the  top  thereof, 
certain  Persons  walked,  w-ho  wrere  cloathed  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  sawr  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 
mischief  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  coun-  The  yaiiant 
tenance  come  up  tb  the  Man  that  sat  there  to  Man- 
write ;  saying,  Set  down  my  name,  8\r ;  the  which  when  he 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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, 

ftjj 

Come  in,   Come  in  ; 

Eternal  Glory  thou  shalt  win. 

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

Now,  said  Christian,  let  me  go  hence  :  Nay  stay  (said  the 
Interpreter,)  till  I  have  shewed  thee  a  little  more,  and  after 
that  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way.  So  he  took  him  by  the  hand 
Despair  like  an  again,  and  led  him  into  a  very  dark  Room, 
iron  Cage.  wheje  there  sat  a  Man  in  an  Iron  Cage. 

Now  the  Man,  to  look  on,  seemed  very  sad  :  he  sat  with  his 
eyes  looking  down  to  the  ground,  his  hands  folded  together ; 
and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would  break  his  heart.  Then  said 
Christian,  What  means  this  ?  At  which  the  Interpreter  bid 
him  talk  with  the  Man. 

CHU.  Then  said  Christian  to  the  Man,  What  art  thou  ? 
The  Man  answered,  /  am  what  I  zvas  not  once. 

CHII.    What  watt  thou  once  ?  J^ 

MAX.    The  jfan  said,  I  wa^Rice  a   fair  and  flourishing 

o 
Professor,  both   in   mine  own  eyes,  and  also  in  the  eyes  o 

others  :  I  once  was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the  CVrlcstiul  Citv, 
and  had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughtJfcthat  I  should  get 
thither. 


THE   MAN   IN   AN   IRON   CAGE  43 

CHR.    Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 

MAX.  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  ? 

MAX.  I  left  oft'  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  ? 

MAX.   No,  none  at  all. 

CHII.    Why  ?     The  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  very  pitiful. 

MAX.  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  :  Therefore  I  have  shutf^^self  out  of  all 
the  Promises  ;  and  there  now  remains  to^^  nothing  but 
threatnings,  dreadful  threatnings,  faithful  threatnings  of  cer- 
tain Judgment,  which  shall  devour  me  as  an  Adversary. 

INTER.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this  con- 
dition ? 

MAX.  For  the  Lusts,  Pleasures,  and  Profits  of  this  World  ; 
in  the  enjoyment  of  which,  I  did  then  promise  my  self  much 
delight ;  but  now  every  one  ^H:hose  things  also  bite  me,  and 
gnaw  me  like  a  burning  wor^P  * 

^  INTER.     But  canst  thou  not  now  repent  and  turn  ? 

MAX.  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 


44  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Chamber,  where  there  was  one  rising  out  of  Bed  ;  and  as  he 
put  on  his  Raiment,  he  shook  and  trembled.  Then  said 
Christian,  Why  doth  this  man  thus  tremble  ?  The  Interpreter 
then  bid  him  tell  to  Christian  the  reason  of  his  so  doing.  So 
he  began,  and  said  :  This  night  as  I  was  in  my  sleep,  I 
Dreamed,  and  behold  the  Heavens  grew  exceeding  black  ; 
also  it  thundred  and  lightlied  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  proclaimed  to  them  that  attended 


CHRISTIAN    GOES    ON    HIS   WAY  45 

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 
Garner.  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  what  was  it  that  made  you  so  afraid  of  this  sight  ? 

MAX.  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  indignation  in  his 
countenance. 

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

CHR.   Yes,  and  they  put  me  in  hope  andjfear. 

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 

I  In  what  I  have  began  to  take  in  hand  : 

« 

Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 


46  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Wherefore  they  shewed  me  icas,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,   0  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 
Sepylchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw  it  no  more *. 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and  said  with 
When  God  a  merry  heart,  He  hath  given  me  rest,  by  hi* 

™uTguiu*and  sorrow  ;  and  life,  by  his  death.  Then  he  stood 
burden,  we  are  tfft  &  while,  to  look  and  wonder;  for  it  was 

as  those  that 

leap  for  joy.  very  surprising  to  him,  that  the  sight  of  the 
Cross  should  thus  ease  him  of  his  burden.  He  looked 
therefore,  and  looked  again,  even  till  the  springs  that  were 
Sn  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  forehead,  and  gave  him  a  Roll  with 
a  Seal  upon  it,  which  he  bid  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and  that  he 
should  give  it  in  at  the  Coelestial  Gate  ;  so  they  went  their  way. 

1  Who's  this  ;   the  Pilgrim.     How  !    'tis  very  true, 
Old  things  are  past  away,  all's  become  new. 
Strange !   he's  another  man  upon  my  word, 
They  be  fine  Feathers  that  make  a  fine  Bird. 


CHRISTIAN  LOSES  HIS  BURDEN  AT  THE  CROSS. 


CHRISTIAN    RECEIVES    HIS    ROLL  49 

Then  Christian  gave  three  leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on  singing, 
Thus  far  did  I  come  loaden  with  my  tin ;  A  Christian 

A-r  77  7  j  ,7  •     n    ,7       .      T  '  CaH  Sin9  tjl0' 

J\or  could  ought  ease  me  gnej  that  1  teas  /;/,     alone,  when 
Till  I  came  hither:     What  a  place  is  this!  %££ 

Must  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss?  his  heart. 


CHRISTIAN  RECEIVES  HIS  ROLL. 

Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ? 
Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me  crack? 
Blest  Cross!   blest  Sepulchre!   blest  rather  be 
The  Man  that  there  was  pu  t  to  shame  for  me. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream  *\iat  he  went  on  thus,  even  until 
he  came  at  a  bottom,  where  ae  sawr,  a  little  out  of  the  way, 


50  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

three  Men  fast  asleep  with  Fetters  upon  their  heels.     The 
Simple,  Sloth,       name  of  the  one  was  Simple,  another  Sloth,  and 

and  Presump-  ,  .     ,     ~  . 

the  third  Presumption. 


Christian  then  seeing  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  willing  also,  and  I  will  help  you  off  with 
your  Irons.  He  also  told  them,  If  he  that  goeth  about  lik^ 
a  roaring  Lion  comes  by,  you  will  certainly  become  a  prey  to 
his  teeth.  With  that  they  lookt  upon  him,  and  began  to 
There  is  no  reply  in  this  sort  ;  Simple  said,  /  see  no  danger  ; 


persuasion  will     fifo^  sa^    Yet  a  little  more  sleep  :  and  Presump- 

do,  if  God  7 

openeth  not  the      tion  said,  Every  Fait  must  stand  upon  his  own 
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. 
Christian  CHR.  Gentlemen*  Whence  came  you*  and  whither 

talked  itith 

them.  do  yon  go  ? 

FORM,  and  HYP.  We  were  born  in  the  land  of  Yam-glory. 

i—  ?  +>  ' 

and  are  going  for  praise  to  Mount  Sion. 

CHR.  Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  Gate  which  standeth  at 
the  beginning-  of  the  way  ?  Know  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? 


FORMALIST   AND    HYPOCRISY  51 

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  will  it  not  be  counted  a  Trespass  against  the  Lord 
of  the  City  whither  we  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 :  They  that  come 
for  what  they  did,  they  had  custom  for;  and  J"f,° !*flva%a 

*/  •*  Otiv  iiOtJ  Ou  c 'to 

could  produce,  if  need  were,  Testimony   that     door,  think 

J  J  that  they  can 

would  witness  it,    for   more   than   a  thousand     say  something 

In  vindication 
veais.  of  their  OR-n 

CHR.    But,  said  Christian,  will  your  practice     Practice. 
stand  a  Trial  at  Law  ? 

FORM,  and  HYP.  They  told  him,  That  Custom,  it  being  of 
so  long  a  standing,  as  above  a  thousand  years,  would  doubt- 
less now  be  admitted  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  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,  without  much  conference  one  with  another ; 
save  that  these  two  men  told  Christian,  That,  as  to  Laws  and 
Ordinances,  they  doubted  not  but  they  should  as  conscien- 

D 


THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

tiously  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 
Christian  has  wrhither  I  go  ;  and  that,  as  you  say,  to  cover 
n  Us  *  mv  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as  a  token 


back,  and  is         of  ^jg  kindness  to  me,  for  I  had  nothing  but 

comforted  .  ' 

thereivith.  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 
He  is  comforted  his  Coat  on  my  back  ;  a  Coat  that  he  gave  me 

aMar™andMs  freely  in  the  da7  that  he  striPl  me  of  mJ  ra£S' 
Ro11'  I  have  moreover  a  mark  in  my  forehead,  of 

which  perhaps  you  have  taken  no  notice,  which  one  of  my 
Lords  most  intimate  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. 

J 

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  Christum  kept  before,  who  had 

Christian  has  .  ,     ,  .          ,  „          ,     * 

talk  u-ith  him-      no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and  that  some- 
times  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 

ne  come*  to  the  foot  ot*  tne  Hil1  Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of 
hill  Difficulty.  which  was  a  Spring.  There  was  also  in  the 


THE    HILL   DIFFICULTY  53 

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  himself,  and  then  began 
to  go  up  the  Hill ;  saying, 

This  Hill9  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend ; 

The  difficulty  will  not  me  offend; 

For  I  perceive  the  way  to  life  lies  here ; 

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

Better,  tho"1  difficult,  th1  right  way  to  go, 

Than  wrong,  though  easy,  where  the  end  is  wo. 

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  De- 
struction.} So  the  one  took  the  way  which  is 

'  J  The  danger  of 

called  Danger,  which  led  him  into  a  great  Wood ;     turning  out  of 
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  more1. 
I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up  the  Hill, 
where  I  perceived  he  fell  from  running  to  going,  and  from 
going  to  clambering  upon  his  hands  and  his  knees,  because 
of  the  steepness  of  the  place.     Now  about  the     ^  ward  Of 
midway  to  the  top  of  the  Hill,  was  a  pleasant     grace' 

1  Shall  they  who  wrong  begin  yet  rightly  end  ? 
Shall  they  at  all  have  safety  for  their  friend? 
No,  no,  in  headstrong  manner  they  set  out, 
And  headlong  will  they  fall  at  last  no  doubt. 


54  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Arbor,  made  by  ihe  Lord  of  the  Hill,  for  the  refreshing  of 
weary  Travellers.  Thither  therefore  Christian  got,  where 
also  he  sat  down  to  rest  him.  Then  he  pulFd  his  Roll  out 
of  his  bosom  and  read  therein  to  his  comfort ;  he  also  now 
began  afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  Coat  or  Garment  that 
was  given  him  as  he  stood  by  the  Cross.  Thus  pleasing 
himself  a  while,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slumber,  and  thence 
jie  Uiat  sleeps  ni^o  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,  consider  her  ways  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  running  against  him  amain  ;  the  name  of  the 

one  was  Timorous,  and  the  name  of  the  other 
Christian  meets 

n-tth  Mistrust        Mistrust,  to  whom  Christian  said,  Sirs,  what's 

and  Timorous.        ,-,  ,  i  ~      rr,- 

the  matter  you  run  the  wrong  way  r  1  imorous 
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.  Then  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  Eire  and  Brimstone ;  and  I 
shall  certainly  perish  there.  If  I  can  get  to  the  Crelestial 
Christian  City,  I  am  sure  to  be  in  safety  there.  I  must 

venture.  To  go  back  is  nothing  but  death  ;  to 
go  forward  is  fear  of  death,  and  life  everlasting  beyond  it. 


CHRISTIAN   MISSES   HIS    ROLL  55 

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  Christian 
in  great  distress,  and  knew  not  what  to  do,  for  ^^^ 
he  wanted  that  which  used  to  relieve  him,  and  to  take  Com  fort. 
that  which  should  have  been  his  Pass  into  the  Ccelestial 
City.  Here  therefore  he  began  to  be  much  He  is  perplexed 
perplexed,  and  knew  not  what  to  do;  at  kst  f°rhis Rott- 
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  ?  scrutinies  he  sighed,  somtimes  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  look- 
ing 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 

J        Christian  bc- 

bringing  again,  even  afresh,  his  evil  of  sleeping  wails  his  foolish 
into  his  mind.  Thus  therefore  he  now  went  on 
bewailing  his  sinful  sleep,  saying,  O  wretched  Man  that  I  avi, 
that  I  should  sleep  in  the  day-time !  that  I  should  sleep  in 
the  midst  of  difficulty !  that  I  should  so  indulge  the  flesh,  as 
to  use  that  rest  for  ease  to  my  flesh,  which  the  Lord  of  the 
Hill  hath  erected  only  for  the  relief  of  the  spirits  of  Pilgrims ! 
How  many  steps  have  I  took  in  vain  !  (Thus  it  happened 
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 


56  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

sorrow,  which  I  might  have  trod  with  delight,  had  it  not 
bc-en  for  this  sinful  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. 

0  that  I  had  not  slept !     Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to 
the  Arbor  again,  where  for  awhile  he  sat  down  and  wept, 
but  at  last  (as  Christian  would  have  it)  looking  sorrowfully 
Christian  find-      down  under  the  Settle,  there  he  espied  his  Roll; 
cth  his  Roil          the  which  he  with  trembling  and  haste  catch'd 

where  he  lost  it.  . 

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  nimbly  now  did  he  go 
up  the  rest  of  the  Hill !  Yet  before  he  got  up,  the  Sun 
went  down  upon  Christian ;  and  this  made  him  again  recall 
the  vanity  of  his  sleeping  to  his  remembrance,  and  thus  he 
again  began  to  condole  with  himself:  Oh  thou  sinful  sleep! 
how  for  thy  sake  am  I  like  to  be  benighted  in  my  Journey  • 

1  must  walk  without  the  Sun,  darkness  must  cover  the  path  of 
mu  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the  noise  of  doleful  Creatures,  because 
of  my  sinful  sleep  !     Now  also  he  remembered  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 
M  as  a  very  stately  Palace  before  him,  the  name  of  which  was 
Beautiful,  and  it  stood  just  by  the  Highway  side. 


THE   LIONS  IN   THE   WAY 

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 


CHRISTIAN  PASSES  THE  LIONS  IN  THE  WAY. 

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  M'wtntfit  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 


58  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

afcer  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  discovery  of  those  that 
have  none :  keep  in  the  midst  of  the  Path,  and  no  hurt 
shall  come  unto  thee. 

Then  I  saw  that  he  went  on,  trembling  for  fear  of  the 
Lions  ;  but  taking  good  heed  to  the  directions  of  the  Porter ; 
he  heard  them  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  1.  Then  said  Christian  to 
the  Porter,  Sir,  What  house  is  this  ?  and  may  I  lodge  here 
to  night  ?  The  Porter  answered,  This  House  was  built  by 
the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  and  he  built  it  for  the  relief  and 
security  of  Pilgrims.  The  Porter  also  asked  whence  he  was, 
and  whither  he  was  going  ? 

CHR.  I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destruction,  and  am 
going  to  Mount  Zion,  but  because  the  Sun  is  now  set,  I 
desire,  if  I  may,  to  lod^e  here  to  niffht. 

•/  '  O  O 

POR.    What  Is  your  name  ? 

CHR.  My  name  is  now  Christian  ;  but  my  name  at  the 
first  was  Graceless :  I  came  of  the  race  of  Japliet,  whom  God 
will  perswade  to  dwell  in  the  Tents  of  Shem. 

POR.  But  how  doth  it  happen  that  yon  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  notwithstanding  that,  been  here  much  sooner,  but  that 
in  my  sleep  I  lost  my  evidence,  and  came  without  it  to  the 

Difficult  is  behind,  Fear  is  before, 

Though  he's  got  on  the  Hill,  the  Lions  roar ; 

A.  Christian  man  is  never  long  at  ease, 

When  one  fright's  gone,  another  doth  him  seize,    v  i 


THE   PALACE   BEAUTIFUL  59 

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  beautiful  Damsel,  named 
Discretion,  and  asked  why  she  was  called. 

The  Porte?'  answered,  This  Man  is  in  a  Journey  from  the 
City  o'f  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  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  discourse  with  him,  had  him  in  to  the  Family ;  and 
many  of  them  meeting  him  at  the  threshold  of  the  house, 
said,  Come  in  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord  ;  this  House  was 
built  by  the  Lord  of  the  Hill,  on  purpose  to  entertain  such 
Pilgrims  in.  Then  he  bowed  his  head,  and  followed  them 
into  the  House.  So  when  he  was  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 

D3 


60  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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. 

Piety  dis-  I'1-    Come  good  Christian,  since  ice  hare  been 

so  loving  to  you,  to  receive  you  into  our  House 
tins  night ;  let  ?/,?,  if  perhaps  we  may  better  ourselves  thereby, 
talk  with  you  of  all  things  that  have  happened  to  you  in  your 
Pilgrimage. 

CHR.  With  a  very  good  will,  and  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
so  well  disposed. 

Pi.  What  moved  you  at  Jirst  to  betake  yourself  to  a  Pil- 
grims life  ? 

HOW  Christian  CHU.  I  was  driven  out  of  my  Native  Country, 
o/lf/oS?  °Ui  bJ  a  Dreadful  sound  that  was  in  mine  ears,  to 
Country.  AVit,  That  unavoidable  destruction  did  attend 

me,  if  I  abode  in  that  place  where  I  was. 

Pi.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you  came  out  of  your 
Country  this  way  ? 

CHK.   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 

How  he  fiat  into  L  . 

the  Waij  to  directed  me  to  the  Wicket-Gate,  which  else  I 
should  never  have  found  ;  and  so  set  me  into  the 
way  that  hath  led  me  directly  to  this  House. 

Pi.  But  did  you  not  come  by  the  House  of  the  Interpreter  ? 

CHK.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the  remembrance 
of  which  will  stick  by  me  as  long  as  I  live ;  specially  three 
things,  to  wit,  /How  Christ,  in  despite  of  Satan,  maintains  his 

A  rehearsal  of     ^vor^  °f  Grace  in  the  heart ;  how  the  Man  had 
what  lie  saw  in      sinned    himself  quite   out    of  hopes    of  Gods 
mercy  ;  and  also  the  Dream  of  him  that  thought 
in  his  sleep  the  day  of  Judgment  was  come. 


DISCOURSE   WITH    PIETY  61 

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.  Wax  that  all  that  you  saw  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  twelvemonth, 
but  that  I  knew  I  had  further  to  go. 

Pi.   A  nd  wliat  saw  you  else  in  the  way  ? 

CHR.  Saw  !  Why  I  went  but  a  little  further,  and  I  saw 
one,  as  I  thought  in  my  mind,  hang  bleeding  upon  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  saw  more  than  this,  did  you  not  ? 

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 


62  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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.^ 
Prudence  dis-  Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a  few 

questions,  and  desired  his  answer  to  them. 
PR  i*.    Do   you    not   think  sometimes   of  the   Country  from 
whence  you  come  ? 

CHR.    Yes,  but  with  much  shame  and  detesta- 


tiumghts  of  his      tion  ;     Truly,  if  I   had   been   mindful   of  that 

Native  Country.  '  . 

Country  jrom  whence  1  came  out,  1  might  have 
liad  opportunity  to  have  returned,  but  now  I  desire  a  better 
Country,  that  is,  an  Heavenly. 

Pur.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with  you  some  of  the  things 
that  then  you  were  conversant  withal  ? 

CHR.  Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will;  especially  my  inward 
Christian  dis-  and  carnal  cogitations;  with  which  all  my 
SS"'Sta-  Country-men,  as  well  as  myself,  were  delighted  ; 
tions-  but  now  all  those  things  are  my  grief:  and 

might  I  but  chuse  mine  own  things,  I  would^chust^  never  to 
Christians  think  of  those  things  more  ;  but  u  hen  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  ice  re 
vanquished.,  which  at  other  times  are  your  perplexity  ? 

CHR.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom  ;  but  they  are  to  me 
Christians  golden  hours,  in  which  such  things  happen 

golden  hours.          ^Q    me 

PRU.     Can  you  remember    Inj   what    means  you    find  your 
annoyances  at  times,  as  if  they  were  vanquished  ? 
HOW  Christian          CHU.    Yes,  when  I  think   what  I  saw  at  the 

Wto***  Cr°SS'  that   Wil1   d°    Jt ;     alld    Who11   l  lt)()k    UP°" 

corruptions.         iny  broidered  Coat,  that  will  do  it ;  also  when 


DISCOURSE    WITH    CHARITY  63 

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. 

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 

117f  y  Christian 

of  all  those  things,    that    to    this    day  are  in     vxuid  be  at 


•  i  ,1  ,1  Mount  Zion. 

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,  Have  you     cjiariti/  dis- 
a  family  ?  are  you  a  married  man  ? 

CHR.    I  have  a  Wife  and  four  small  Children. 

CHA.   And  why  did  you  not  biing  them  along  with  you  ? 

CHR.  Then  Christian  wept,  and  said,  Oh  how  Christians  lore 
willingly  would  I  have  done  it,  but  they  were  to  his  Wife  and 

"•  Cliildren. 

all    of  them    utterly  averse  to    my    going    on 
Pilgrimage. 

CHA.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and  have  en- 
deavoured to  have  shewen  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  would  bless  your 
counsel  to  them  ? 

CHR.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection  ;  for  you  must 
think  that  my  Wife  and  poor  Children  were  very  dear  unto  me. 

CHA.  But  did  you  tell  them  of  your  own  sorrow,  and  fear  of 
destruction  ?  for  I  suppose  that  destruction  was  visible  enough 
to  you  ? 


64  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 


Christians  ^HR.    ^e*>   overJ    an(^    over>    anc^    over-      They 

fears  of  perish-  might  also  see  my  fears  in  my  countenance,  in 

ing  might  be  ,      ,         .  'IT  11 

read  in  Ms  very  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  what  could  they  say  for  themselves  why  they 
came  not  ? 

The  cause  lohy  CHR.  Why,  my  Wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this 

Ohildr^dM  World;  and  my  Children  were  given  to  the 
not  go  with  Mm.  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  with  your  vain  life,  damp  all  that  you  by 
words  used  by  way  ofperswasion  to  bring  them  away  with  you  ? 

CHR.  Indeed  I  cannot  commend  my  life  ;  for  I  am  con- 
scious to  myself  of  many  failirigs  :  therein,  I  know  also  that 
a  man  by  his  conversation,  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 
Christians  "  gi"vmg  them  occasion,  by  any  unseemly  action, 


good  conversa-      ^o  make  them  averse  to  o-oino;  on  Pilgrimage. 

tion  before  his 

wife  and  \  ea,   tor  this  very  thing;,  they  would  tell   me 

f~n  "7^7 

I  was  too  precise,  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. 
Christian  dear  CHA.  Indeed;  C&\\\  hated  his  Brother,  because 


of  their  blood       //fv    ore1;?,    works    were    eml,   and    his    Brothers 

righteous  ;   and  if  thy  Wife  and  Children  have 

been  offended  with  thee  for  this,  they  thereby  .shew  themselves 

to  be  implacable  to  good;    and  thou   hast   delivered  thy  soul 

from  their  blood. 


THE   SUPPER  65 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  thus  they  sat,  talking  to- 
gether until  supper  was  ready.  So  when  they  had  made 
ready,  they  sat  down  to  meat :  Now  the  Table 

J          ,J  .  What  Clins- 

was  furnished  with  fat  things,  and  with  Wine     tianhadtohi* 
that  was  well  refined  ;  and  all  their  talk  at  the 
Table,  was  about  the  LORD  of  the  Hill :    As     Their  taik  at 
namely,  about  what  HE  had  done,  and  where-     8uwer  tlme' 
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  spoke  with  him  since 
he  did  die  on  the  Cross ;  and  they  have  attested,  that  they 
had  it  from  his  own  lips,  that  he  is  such  a  lover  of  poor 
Pilgrims,  that  the  like  is  not  to  be  found  from  the  East  to 
the  West. 

They  moreover  gave  an  instance  of  what  they  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     ^..^  makes 
Beggars  born,  and  their  original  had  been  the     Princes  of 
DuTghil. 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night,  and  after 
they  had  committed  themselves  to  their  Lord  for  Protection, 
they  betook  themselves  to  rest.     The  Pilgrim  they  laid  in 
a  large  upper  Chamber,  whose  window  opened     Christians 
towards    the    Sunrising ;     the     name    of    the     Bed-chamber, 


66  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Chamber  was  Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day  ;    and 
then  he  awoke  and  sang, 

Where  am  I  noiv  !   is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesus  for  the  men  that  Pilgrims  are  ! 
Thus  to  provide  !    That  I  should  be  forgiven  ! 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  Heaven  ! 

So  in  the  Morning  they  all  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 
Christian  had  the  greatest  Antiquity  ;  in  which,  as  I  remember 
1  "'  m>T  Dream>  theJ  shewed  him  first  the  Pedigree 


what  he 

there.  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  sub- 

'  dued  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 

I  Armies  of  the.  Aliens. 

Then  they  read  again  in  another  part  of  the  Records  of 
the  House,  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 

V 

things,  of  all  which  Christian  had  a  view.  As  of  things  both 
.Ancient  and  Modern  ;  together  with  Prophecies  and  Pre- 
dictions of  things  that  have  their  certain  accomplishment, 


CHRISTIAN    SHOWN    THE    RARITIES         67 

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  Ar- 
mory ;  where  they  shewed  him  all  manner  of 


Furniture,  which  their  Lord  had  provided  for     ^ad  into  the 
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. 

Christian  is 

They  shewed  him  Moses's  Rod,  the  Hammer  made  to  see  ^ 
and  Nail  with  which  Joel  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  Shamgar  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  GoliaJi  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  de- 
lighted. This  done,  they  went  to  their  rest  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  on  the  morrow  he  got  up 
to  go  forwards,  but  they  desired  him  to  stay  till  the  next 
day  also,  and  then  said  they,  we  will,  (if  the  day  be  clear,) 
shew  you  the  delectable  Mountains,  which  they     Christian 
said,  would    yet  further   add  to   his   comfort,     Chewed  the  de- 

J  lectable  Moun- 

because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  Haven  tains. 
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,  Vine- 


68  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

yards,  Fruits  of  all  sorts  ;  Flowers  also,  with  Springs  and 
Fountains,  very  delectable  to  behold.  Then  he  asked  the 
name  of  the  Country, "they  said  it  was  Immanuels  Land;  and 
it  is  as  common,  said  they,  as  this  Hill  is,  to  and  for  all  the 
Pilgrims.  And  when  thou  comest  there,  from  thence,  said 
they,  thou  mayest  see  to  the  Gate  of  the  Cosiest ial  City,  as 
the  Shepherds  that  live  there  will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  himself  of  setting  forward,  and  they 
Christian  sets  were  willing  he  should  :  but  first,  said  they,  let 
us  go  again  into  the  Armory.  So  they  did  ; 
Christian  sent  and  when  he  came  there,  they  harnessed  him 
away  Armed.  frOm  head  to  foot  with  what  was  of  proof,  lest 
perhaps  he  should  meet  with  assaults  in  the  way.  He  being 
therefore  thus  accoutred  walketh  out  with  his  friends  to  the 
Gate,  and  there  he  asked  the  Porter  if  he  saw  any  Pilgrims 
pass  by,  Then  tjie  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. 
HOIV  Christian          CHR.  Well,  said  Christian,  good  Porter,  the 

and  the  Porter  '  ' . 

yreet  at  parting.  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  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 

The  valley  of  is ;  for  it  is  an  hard  matter  for  a  man  to  go 
Humiliation:  down  int()  the  vfljley  of  Humn'mtion,  as  thou  art 

now,  and  to  catch  no  slip  by  the  way  ;  therefore,  said  they,  are 


THE    VALLEY   OF   HUMILIATION  69 

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  l. 

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 

o  Christian  no 

no  Armor  for  his  back,  and  therefore  thought     Armor  for  his 
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     Christians  re- 
ground.     For  thought    he,  had  I  no  more  in     ^Zhlf" 
mine  eye  than  the  saving  of  my  life,  "'twould  be     Apollyon. 
the  best  way  to  stand. 

So  he  went  on,  and  Apollyon  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  beheld  him  with  a  disdainful  countenance, 
and  thus  began  to  question  with  him. 

APOL.    Whence  come  yon^  and  whither  are  yon  bound  ? 

CHR.  I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destrnc-     Discourse  le- 

i  •   i     •     ,i         ,  n,    ,-r-     .-.       — T—  .  twixt  Christian 

tion,  which  is  the  place  01  all  evil,  and  am  going     and  Apollyon. 

to  the  City  of  Zion. 

1  Whilst  Christian  is  among  his  godly  friends, 
Their  golden  mouths  make  him  sufficient  'mends, 
For  all  his  griefs,  and  when  they  let  him  go, 
He's  clad  with  northern  steel  from  top  to  toe. 


70  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

APOL.  By  this  I  perceive  than  art  one  of  my  Subjects,  for 
aU  that  Country  is  mine  ;  and  I  am  the  Prince  and  God  of  it. 
How  is  it  then  that  thou  hast  ran  away  from  thy  King?  Were 
it  not  that  I  hope  thou  may  eat  do  me  more  service,  I  would 
strike  thee  now  at  one  blow  to  the  ground. 

CHR.  I  was  born  indeed  in  your  Dominions,  but  your 
service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  such  as  a  man  could  not 
live  on,  for  the  wages  of  Sin  is  death;  therefore  \vhen  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  will  thus  lightly  lose  his 
Subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet  lose  thee.  But  since  thou  com- 
Apoiiyons  plainest  of  thy  service  and  wages  be  content  to 

flattery.  g0  back  ;  what  our  Country  will  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  Proverb, 
changed  a  bad  for  a  worse  :  but  it  is  ordinary 

Apollyon  un-  7        7  />         7     7  7          7  •      o  ' 

for  those  that  have  processed  themselves  his  ber- 


Christ*  s  service.  />,  7  -7  7  •        .7        ?•  7 

vants,   after  a  while    to  give  him  the  slip,  and 

return  again  to  me  :  do  thou  so  to,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

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 

Apollyon  pre- 

tends to  be  I  am  willing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt  yet 

merciful.  .  777 

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  Company,  and 


DISCOURSE   WITH    APOLLYON  71 

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,  what 
thou  art  like  to  meet  with  in  the  wan  that  thou     Apoiiyon 

mi  n  •        pleads  the 

goest.      Thou  knowest  thatjor  the  most  part,  his     grievous 
Servants  come  to   an  ill  end,  because  they  are     °^ 


transgressors  against  me,  and  mil  wans.     How     Christian  from 
/..,          70         T  ,    ,       7          /7    7      ,;     ,      persisting  in  his 

many  oj  them  have  been  put  to  shameful  deaths! 


and  besides,  thou  countest  his  service  better  than  mine,  whereas 
he  never  came  yet  from  the  place  where  he  is,  to  deliver  ant/ 
that  served  him  out  of  our  hands;  but  as  for  me,  how  many 
times,  as  all  the  World  very  well  knows,  have  I  delivered, 
either  by  power  or  fraud,  those  that  have  faithfully  served 
me,  from  him  and  his,  though  taken  by  them,  and  so  I  will 
deliver  thee. 

CHR.  His  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver  them,  is  on 
purpose  to  try  their  love,  whether  they  will  cleave  to  him 
to  th?  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 

j  *  *> 

comes  in  his,  and  the  Glory  of  the  Angels. 

APOL.  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful  In  thy  service  to 
him,  and  how  doest  thou  think  to  receive  wages  of  him  ? 

CHR.  Wherein,  O  Apoiiyon,  have  I  been  unfaithful  to  him  ? 

APOL.  Thou  didst  faint  at  first  setting  out,  when  thou  wast 
almost  choked  In  the  Gulf  of  Dlspond  ;  thou 
didst  attempt  wrong  ways  to  be  rid  of  thy 
burden,  whereas  thou  shouldest  have  stayed  till  ties  against  him. 
thy  Prince  had  taken  It  off  :  thou  didst  sinfully  sleep  and  lose 
thy  choice  thing:  thou  wast  also  almost  persivaded  to  go 
back,  at  the  sight  of  the  Lions  ;  and  when  thou  talkest  of  thy 
Journey,  and  of  what  thou  hast  heard,  and  seen,  thou  art 
inwardly  desirous  of  vain-glory  In  all  that  thou  sayest  or  doest. 


72  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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,  /  am  an  Enemy  to  this  Prince:  I  hate 

Apollyon  in  a  J 

rage  fails  upon  Ms  Person,  his  Laws,  and  People:  I  am  come 
out  on  purpose  to  withstand  thee. 

CHR.  Apollyon  beware  what  you  do,  for  I  am  in  the  King's 
Highway,  the  way  of  Holiness,  therefore  take  heed  to  your 
self. 

APOL.  Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of  fear  in  this 
matter,  prepare  thy  self  to  die,  for  I  swear  by  my  Infernal 
Den,  that  thou  shalt  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 

O  *> 

which,  notwithstanding  all  that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid 

it,  Anolliion  wounded  him  in  his  head,  his  hand 
Christian  ?      J.       J 

wounded  in  his  and  foot ;  this  made  Christian  give  a  little 
faith  and  S  back :  Apollyon  therefore  followed  his  work 
amain,  and  Christian  again  took  courage,  and 
resisted  as  manfully  as  he  could.  This  sore  combat  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. 

o 

cast-          Then  Apollyon  espying  his  opportunity,  be- 
M?      8a»    to    gather    up    close  _  to    Christian,   and 

tian-  wrestling  with  him,  gave  him  a  dreadful  fall ; 


THE  FLIGHT  OF  APOLLYQN. 


VICTORY   OVER   APOLLYON  75 

and  with  that,  Christianas  Sword  flew  out  of  his  hand. 
Then  said  Apollyon,  I  am  sure  of  thee  now ;  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  j 

&  J      o»          t/  Christians        f 

against  me,  0  mine  Enemy !  when  I  fall,  I  shall     victory  over 
arise ;  and  with  that,  gave  him  a  deadly  thrust, 
which    made  him   give  back,  as   one  that  had  received  his 
mortal  Avound  :  Christian  perceiving  that,  made  at  him  again, 
saying,  Nay,  in  all  these  things  ice  are  more  than  Conquerors, 
through  him  that  loved  us.     And  with  that,  Apollyon  spread 
forth  his  Dragon's  Avings,  and  sped  him  away,  that  Christian 
saAv  him  no  more a. 

In  this  Combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he  had  seen 
and  heard  as  I  did,  Avhat  yelling,  and  hideous 

7  ,        ,,  .  -4  brief  relation 

roaring  A pollyo?i  made  all  the  time  of  the  fight,     of  the  Combat 
he  spake  like  a  Dragon  :   and  on  the  other  side, 
Avhat  sighs  and  groans  brast  from  Christianas  heart.     I  never 
saAv  him  all  the  Avhile  give  so  much  as  one  pleasant  look, 
till   he  perceived  he  had  wounded  Apollyon   Avith  his  tAvo 
edged  Sword,  then  indeed  he  did  smile,  and  look  upward : 
but  "'twas  the  dreadfullest  sight  that  ever  I  saAv. 

So  when  the  Battle  Avas  over,  Christian  said,  I  Avill  here 
give  thanks  to  him  that  hath  delivered  me  out 

Christian  gives 

of  the  mouth  of  the  Lion  ;  to  him  that  did  help     God  thanks  for 
M       „  ,  -,.  f  .  deliverance. 

me  against  Apollyon :  and  so  he  did,  saying, 

Great  Beelzebub,  the  Captain  of  this  Fiend, 
Design  d  my  ruin  ;    therefore  to  this  end 

1  A  more  unequal  match  can  hardly  be, 
Christian  must  fight  an  Angel ;    but  you  see 
The  valiant  man  by  handling  Sword  and  Shield, 
Doth  make  him,  tho'  a  Dragon,  quit  the  Field. 


76  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

He  sent  him  harnest  out,  and  he  with  rage 
That  Hellish  was,  did  fiercely  me  engage  : 
But  blessed  Michael  helped  me,  and  I 
By  dint  of  Sword,  did  quickly  mcike  him  fly  : 
Therefore  to  him  let  me  give  lasting  praise, 
And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  always. 

Then  there  came  to  him  an  hand,  with  some  of  the  leaves 
of  the  Tree  of  Life,  the  which  Christian  took,  and  applied  to 
the  wounds  that  he  had  received  in  the  Battle,  and  was 
healed  immediately.  He  also  sat  down  in  that  place  to  eat 

mf 

Bread,  and  to  driiik  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 

Christian  yues  -' ' 

on  his  Journey      he  said,  I  know  not  but  some  other  Enemy  may 
cimn-n  in  his        be  at  hand.     But  he  met  with  no  other  affront 

from  Apollyon,  quite  through  thisJValley. 
Now  at  the  end  of  this   Valley,   was  another,   called  the 

Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  Christian 

'Hie  Valley  of  •>  J , 

the  shadow  of       must  needs  go  through  it,  because  the  way  to 

T)      tl 

the  Ccelestial  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  qfDesarts, 
(nid  of  Pits,  a  Land  of  Drought,  and  of  the  shadow  of  death, 
a  Land  thai  no  man  (but  a  Christian)  passeth  through,  and 
where  no  man  dwelt. 

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

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

the  Borders   of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  there  met  him  two 

Men,  Children  of  them  that  brought  up  an  evil 

The  Children  of  ,  » 

the  Spies  go          report    ot   the    good    Land,    making    haste    to 

go  back  :  to  whom  Christian  spake  as  follows, 
Cmi.    Whither  are  you  going? 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH  77 

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  ?  what's  the  matter  ?  said  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.  But  what  have  you  met  with,  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,  said  Christian  ? 

MEN.  Seen  !  why  the  Valley  itself,  which  is  as  dark  a.s 
pitch ;  we  also  saw  there  the  Hobgoblins,  Satyrs,  and 
Dragons  of  the  Pit :  we  heard  also  in  that  Valley  a  con- 
tinual howling  and  yelling,  as  of  a  People  under  unutterable 
misery,  who  there  sat  bound  in  affliction  and  Irons :  and 
over  that  Valley  hangs  the  discouraging  Clouds  of  confusion ; 
death  also  doth  always  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  what  you 
have  mid,  but  that  this  is  my  way  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  fall,  and 
had  no  doubt  therein  been  smothered,  had  not  He  that  is 
able,  pluckt  him  out. 


78  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

The  path-way  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow,  and  there- 
fore 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 
mentioned  above,  the  pathway  was  here  so  dark,  that  oft- 
times  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  mouch  of 
Hell  to  be,  and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the  wayside1:  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  All-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  company  of  Fiends  coming  forward  to  meet  him, 
Christian  put  ^e  st°pt?  and  began  to  muse  what  he  had  best 
to  a  stand,  but  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 


V 


Poor  man  !   where  art  thou  now  ?  thy  day  is  night.  / 
Good  man  be  not  cast  down,  thou  yet  art  right. 
Thy  way  to  Heaven  lies  by  the 
Cheer~upT~Hol(l  out,  with  thee  it  shall  go  well. 

/ 


E 

E- 


- 

I 

C 


co 

B 

EC 


u. 
o 


K 

= 


CHRISTIAN   IS    MADE   GLAD  81 

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  blasphe-  Christian  made 
mies  to  him,  which  he  verily  thought  had  pro-  believe  that  he 

7  J  spake  blas- 

ceeded  from  his  own  mind.     This  put  Christian     phemies,  when 

.,     ,1  ,  i  .  ,-,          -j  .,!         twas  Satan  that 

more  to  it  than   any  tiling  that  he  met  with     suggested  them 
before,  even  to  think  that  he  should  now  bias-     into  Ms  mind- 
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  shadow  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 


\ 


82  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

have  company  by  and  by.  So  he  went  on,  and  called  to  him 
that  was  before,  but  he  knew  not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he 
Christian  glad  al§°  thought  himself  to  be  alone.  And  by  and 
atbreakofday.  by,  the  jay  broke  :  then  said  Christian,  He  hath 
turned  the  shadow  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  of;  for  after  break  of  day, 
they  came  not  nigh  ;  yet  they  were  discovered  to  him,  accord- 
ing to  that  which  is  written,  He  discovereth  deep  things  out 
of  darkness,  and  bringeth  out  to  light  the  shadow  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  note,  that  though  the  first 
part  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  death  was  dangerous,  yet 
The  secondpart  this  ^econd  part  which  he  was  yet  to  go,  was,  if 
of  this  Valley  possible,  far  more  dangerous  :  for  from  the  place 

very  dangerous,         V         1  J  J.T.  J       j?  .LI 

where  he  now  stood,  even  to  the  end .  or  the 
Valley,  the  way  was  all  along  set  so  full  of  Snares,  Traps, 
Gins,  and  Nets  here,  and  so  full  of  Pits,  Pit-falls,  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  mi/  head,  and  bij  hi\  //£•///  7  go  through 
darkness. 

In  this  light  therefore  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  Valley. 


GIANTS   POPE   AND   PAGAN 


83 


Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  at  the  end  of  this  Valley  lay 
blood,  bones,  ashes,  and  mangled  bodies  of  men,  even  of 
Pilgrims  that  had  gone  this  way  formerly :  And  while  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, 


CHRISTIAN  GOES  UNHURT  BY  GIANT  POPE. 

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  some- 
what 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 


E 


84  THP;   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Cavers  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  will  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  wonders !  (/  can  say  no  less) 

That  I  should  be  preserved  in  that  distress 

That  1  have  met  with  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  : 

Yea,  Snares,  and  Pits,  and  Traps,  and  Nets  did  lie 

My  path  about,  that  worthless  silly  I 

Might  have  been  catclit,  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 
Christian  over-  with  Faithful,  and  did  also  overrun  him,  so 
takes  Faithful.  the  /a^  was  first.  Then  did  Christian  vain- 


CHRISTIAN   OVERTAKES   FAITHFUL         85 

gloriously  smile,  because  he  had  gotten  the  start  of  his 
Brother :  but  not  taking  good  heed  to  his  feet,  he  suddenly 
stumbled  and  fell,  and  could  not  rise  again,  until  Faithful 
came  up  to  help  him. 

Then   I  saw  in    my   Dream,  they  went   very  lovingly  on 
together;  and  had  sweet  discourse  of  all  things     Christians  fall 
that  had  happened  to  them  in  their  Pilgrimage  ;     ^ndhe^iov"1 
and  thus  Christian  began.  fogly  together. 

CHR.  My  honoured  and  well  beloved  Brother  Faithful,  /  am 
glad  that  I  have  overtaken  you ,-  and  that  God  has  so  tempered 
our  spirits,  that  we  can  walk  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.  How  long  did  you  stay  in  the  City  of  Destruction, 
before  itou  set  out  after  me  on  riour  Pilgrimage  ?  Their  talk 

J          &  u  &  PI  about  the 

FAITH,    lill  I  could  stay  no  longer ;  for  there     Country  from 
was  great  talk  presently  after  you  was  gone  out,     ™ame.G 
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  called  this 
your  Pilgrimage)  but  I  did  believe,  and  do  still,  that  the  end 
of  our  City  will  be  with  Fire  and  Brimstone  from  above  :  and 
therefore  I  have  made  mine  escape. 

CHR.   Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  Neighbor  Pliable  ? 


86  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

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

CHR.   And  what  said  the  Neighbors  to  him  ? 

FAITH.  He  hath,  since  his  going  back,  been  had  greatly  in 
HOW  Pliable  derision,  and  that  among  all  sorts  of  People : 
was  accounted  some  (Jo  mock  and  despise  him.  and  scarce  will 

ofiuhen  lie  got 

home.  any  set  him  on  work.  He  is  now  seven  times 

worse  than  if  he  had  never  gone  out  of  the  City. 

CHR.  But  why  should  they  be  so  set  against  him,  since  they 
also  despise  the  way  that  he  forsook  ? 

FAITH.  O,  they  say,  Hang  him,  he  is  a  Turn-Coat,  he  was 
not  true  to  his  profession.  I  think  God  has  stirred  up  even 
his  Enemies  to  hiss  at  him,  and  make  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.  Well9  at  my  first  setting  out,  I  had  hopes  of  that 
Man  •  but  now  I  fear  he  will  perish  in  the  overthrow  of  the 
The  Dog  and  City,  for  ^  **  happened  to  him,  according  to  the 
the  Sow.  irue  proverl)9  The  Dog  is  turned  to  his  Vomit 

again,  and  the  Sow  that  was  washed  to  her  wallowing  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  our- 
selves. Tell  me  now,  what  you  have  met  with  in  the  way  as 
you  came ;  for  I  know  you  have  met  with  some  things,  or  else 
it  may  be  writ  for  a  wonder. 

FAITH.   I  escaped  the  Slough  that  I  perceive  you  fell  into. 


FAITHFUL  AND   WANTON  87 

and  got  up  to  the  Gate  without  that  danger  ;     only  I  met 
with  one  whose  name  was  Wantoii,  that  had  like 


to  have  done  me  a  mischief.  assaulted  by 

CHR.  ^  Twos  well  you  escaped  her  Net  ;  Joseph 
was  hard  put  to  it  by  her,  and  he  escaped  her  as  you  did,  but  it 
had  like  to  have  cost  him  his  life.     But  what  did  she  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.  Thanh  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  with  no  other  assault  as  you  came  ? 

FAITH.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  Hill  called 
Difficulty,  I  met  with  a  very  aged  Man,  who  m  .g  assanlted 
asked  me,  What  I  was.  and  whither  bound  ?  &?/  Adam  the 

first 

I  told  him,  That  I  was  a  Pilgrim,  going  to 
the  Ccelestial  City.  Then  said  the  Old  Man,  Thou  loosest 
like  an  honest  fellow  ;  Wilt  thou  be  content  to  dwell  with  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  Jirst,  and  I  dwell  in  the  Town  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 


88  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

his  wages,  that  I  should  be  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  was  maintained  with  all  the 
dainties  in  the  world,  and  that  his  Servants  were  those  of  his 
own  begetting.  Then  I  asked,  if  he  had  any  children  ?  He 
said  that  he  had  but  three  Daughters,  The  lust  of  the  Jlesh, 
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  ? 

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  old  Man  with  his  deeds. 

CHR.  And  how  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  for- 
bear 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  pulPd  part  of  me  after  himself.  This  made  me  cry, 
O  wretched  Man!  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  down  to  7'est  me  ; 
but,  being  overcome  with  sleep,  I  there  lost  this  Roll  out  of  my 
bosom. 


THE   TEMPER   OF   MOSES  89 

FAITH.  But  good  Brother  hear  me  out :  So  soon  .as  the 
Man  overtook  me,  he  was  but  a  word  and  a  blow :  for  down 
he  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  was  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,  was  Moses.    He  spareih  \ 
none.,  neither  knozveth  he  how  to  shew  mercy  to     The  temper  of 
those  that  transgi'css  his  Law.  Moses. 

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  which  Moses  met  you  ? 

FAITH.  Yes,  and  the  Lions  too,  before  I  came  at  it ;  but 
for  the  Lions,  I  think  they  were  asleep,  for  it  was  about 
Noon ;  and  because  I  had  so  much  of  the  day  before  me, 
I  passed  by  the  Porter,  and  came  down  the  Hill. 

CHR.  He  told  me  indeed  that  he  saw  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  have  forgot  them  to 
the  day  of  your  death.  But  pray  tell  me*  Did  you  meet 
nobody  in  the  Valley  of  Humility  ? 


90  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

FAITH.  Yes,  I  met  with  one  Discontent,  who  would  will- 
ingly have  pers waded  me  to  go  back  again  with 

Faithful  i  •  i  •  f         ii  ji        17-11 

assaulted  by  him:  his  reason  was,  tor  that  the  Valley  was 
altogether  without  Honour.  He  told  me  more- 
over, that  there  to  go  was  the  way  to  disobey  all  my  Friends, 
as  Pride,  Arrogancy,  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. 

CHK.    Well,  and  how  did  you  answer  him  ? 

FAITH.  I  told  him,  That  although  all  these  that  he  named 
might  claim  kindred  of  me.  and  that  rightly, 

Faithfuls  -i-ii  T^  j* 

answer  to  Di*-       (for  indeed  they  were  my  Relations,  according 
to  the  flesh)  yet  since  I  became  a  Pilgrim,  they 
have  disowned  me,  as  I  also  have  rejected  them ;   and  there- 
fore 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.   There- 
fore   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. 
CHK.  Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  Valley  V 
FAITH.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame.     But  of  all  the  Men  that 

tie  is  assaulted  l  met  with  ln  lu?  Mg"mage,  he  I  think  bears 
with  Shame.  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,  what  did  he  say  to  you  ? 

FAITH.  What !  why  he  objected  against  Religion  itself; 
lie  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 


FAITHFUL   AND   SHAME  91 

that  the  brave  spirits  of  the  times  accustom  themselves  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  knows  what.  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  sighing  and  groaning  home. 
That  it  was  a  shame  to  ask  my  Neighbor  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.  And  what  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  fetched  it  up,  and  had  almost  beat  me  quite 
off.  But  at  last  I  began  to  consider,  That  that  which  is 
highly  esteemed  among  Men,  is  had  in  abomination  with  God. 
And  I  thought  again,  This  Shame  tells  me  what  men  are, 
but  it  tells  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,  seeing  God 

E3 


92  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

prefers  a  tender  Conscience,  seeing  they  that  make  them- 
selves 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  company ;  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  withal, 

That  are  obedient  to  the  Heavenly  call, 

Are  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  Jlesh, 

And  come,  and  come,  and  come  again  afresh; 

That  now,  or  sometime  else,  ice  by  them  may 

Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 

O  let  the  Pilgrims,  let  the  Pilgrims  then, 

Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men. 

CHK.  /  am  glad,  my  Brother,  that  thou  didst  withstand  this 
Villain  so  bravely  ;  for  of  all,  as  thou  sayst,  I  think  he  has  the 
wrong  name :  for  he  is  so  bold  as  to  follow  its  in  the  Streets, 
and  to  attempt  to  put  us  to  shame  before  all  men  ,•  that  is,  to 
make  us  ashamed  of  that  which  is  good :  but  if  he  was  not 
himself  audacious,  he  would  never  attempt  to  do  as  he  does,  but 
let  us  still  resist  him :  for  notwithstanding  all  his  Bravadoes, 
he  promoteth  the  Fool,  and  none  else.  The  A  Vise  shall  Inherit 
Glory  said  Solomon,  but  shame  shall  be  the  promotion  of  Fools. 


TALKATIVE    OVERTAKEN  93 

FAITH.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  him  for  help  against 
shame,  that  would  have  us  be  valiant  for  Truth  upon  the 
Earth. 

CHK.  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.  ''Twas  well  for  you,  I  am  sure  it  fared  far  otherwise 
with  me.  I  had  for  a  long  season,  as  soon  almost  as  I  entred 
into  that  Valley,  a  dreadful  Combat  with  that  foul  Fiend 
Apollyon :  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  was 
sure  of  me  :  but  /  cried  to  God,  and  he  heard  me,  and  delivered 
me  out  of  all  my  troubles.  Then  I  entred  into  the  Valley  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  Man,  and  something  more  comely     Talkative 
at  a  distance  than  at  hand.     To  this  Man  Faith-     described- 
ful  addressed  himself  in  this  manner. 

FAITH.  Friend,  Whither  away?  Are  you  going  to  the 
Heavenly  Country  ? 

TALK.  I  am  going  to  that  same  place. 

FAITH.  That  is  well ;  then  I  hope  we  may  have  your  good 
Company. 

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


I 


94  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

FAITH.   Come  on  then,  and  let  us  go  together,  and  let  us  spend 

Faithful  and  our  fane  \n  discoursing  of  tilings  that  are  profit- 

Talkative  enter 
discourse.  able. 

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 
Talkatives  dis-  v  •/  /* 

like  of  bad  dis-  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  worthy  of  the  use  of  the  tongue  and  mouth  of  men  on 
Earth,  as  are  the  things  of  the  God  of  Heaven  ? 

TALK.  I  like  you  wonderful  well,  for  your  saying  is  full 
of  conviction ;  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.  Thafs  true :  but  to  be  profited  by  such  things  in  our 
talk  should  be  that  which  we  design. 

TALK.  That  is  it  that  I  said :  for  to  talk  of  such  things  is 
Talkatives  fine  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  com- 


TALKATIVES   FINE   DISCOURSE  95 

fort.   Further,  by  this  a  Man  may  learn  to  refute  false  opinions, 
to  vindicate  the  truth,  and  also  to  instruct  the  ignorant. 

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  igno- 
rantly  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  L 
the  gift  of God ;  no  man  attaineth  to  them  by  human  industry,  I 
or  only  by  the  talk  of  them. 

TALK.  All  this  I  know  very  well,  for  a  man  can  receive 
nothing  except  it  be  given  him  from  Heaven  ;     0  brave  Talk, 
all  is  of  Grace,  not  of  works  :    I  could  give  you     ative- 
an  hundred  Scriptures  for  the  confirmation  of  this. 

FAITH.  Well,  then,  said  Faithful,  what  is  that  one  thing, 
that  we  shall  at  this  time  found  our  discourse  upon  ? 

TALK.    What  you  will :    J  will  talk  of  things  Heavenly, 
or   things   Earthly ;    things    Moral,  or  things     o  brave  Talk- 
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  Christian  (for  he  walked  all  this  while  by 

J       Faithful  be- 

himself,)  he  said  to  him,  (but  softly)  What  a     gulled  by 
Brave  Companion  have  we  got !   Surely  this  man 
will  make  a  very  excellent  Pilgrim. 

CHR.  At  this   Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said,  This 
man  with  whom  you  are  so  taken,  will  beguile     Christian 
with  this  tonmie  of  his,  twenty  of  them  that     •makesadis- 

J  covery  of  TalJc- 

knOW   him   not.  ative,  telling 

FAITH.  Do  you  know  him  then  ?  h 


96  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  whereabout  doth  he  dwell  ? 

CHR.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Saywell,  he  dwelt  in  Prating- 
row ;  and  he  is  known  of  all  that  are  acquainted  with  him, 
by  the  name  of  Talkative  in  PratinQ-row :  and  notwith- 

»  O 

standing  his  fine  tongue,  he  is  but  a  sorry  fellow. 

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

CHR.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  thorough  acquain- 
tance 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,  MThose 
Pictures  shew  best  at  a  distance  ;  but  very  near,  more  un- 
pleasing. 

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  now  with  you,  so  will  he  talk 
when  he  is  on  the  Ale-bench  :  and  the  more  drink  he  hath  in 
his  crown,  the  more  of  these  things  he  hath  in  his  mouth. 
,  Religion  hath  no  place  in  his  heart,  or  house,  or  conversation  ; 
all  he  hath,  lieth  in  his  tongue,  and  his  Religion  is  to  make 
a  noise  therewith. 

FAITH.  Say  you  so  !    Then  am  I  in  this  man  greatly  deceived. 

CHR.  Deceived  !    you  may  be  sure  of  it.     Remember  the 

Proverb,  Then  sail  and  do  not  •  but  the  Kingdom  of  God  is  not 

in  word,  but  in  power.     He  talketh  of  Prayer,  of 

Tdlkativf 

talks,  but  does       Repentance,  of  Faith,  and  of  the  New  Birth  : 
but  he  knows  but  only  to  talk  of  them.     I  have 


A   STAIN   TO   RELIGION  97 

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  Religion,  as  the  white  of  Hig  house  is 

an  Egg  is  of  savour.     There  is  there  neither     empty  of  Re- 
^5-  .          c  T3  f  Hgion. 

Frayer,  nor  sign  ot  Repentance  tor  sin  :    yea, 

the  brute  in  his  kind  serves  God  far  better  than  he.     He  is 
the  very  stain,  reproach,  and  shame  of  Religion     He  is  a  stain 
to  all  that  know  him  ;  it  can  hardly  have  a  good     to  Kelioion- 
word  in  all  that  end  of  the  Town  where  he  dwells,  through 
him.     Thus  say  the  common  People  that  know 

J  r  Tlie  Proverb 

him,  A  Saint  abroad*  and  a  Devil  at  home.    His     that  goes  of 
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     Men  slum  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  timoronsness 
(for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  a  tender  conscience)  he 
calls  them  fools  and  blockhepvds  ;  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.  Well,  my  Brother,  I  am  bound  to  believe  you  •  not 
only  because  you  say  you  know  him,  but  also  because  like 
a  Christian,  you  make  your  reports  of  men.  For  I  cannot 
think  that  you  speak  these  things  of  ill  will,  but  because  it 
is  even  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  report  at  their  hands  only  that  are  enemies  to 


98  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

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  two  things, 
\  and  hereafter  I  shall  better  observe  this  distinction. 

CHR.  They  are  two  things  indeed,  and  are  as  diverse  as  are 
the  Soul  and  the  Body  :  for  as  the  Body  without  the  Soul,  is 
The  Carcass  of  but  a  dead  Carcass  ;  so,  Saying,  if  it  be  alone, 
Religion.  ig  but  ft  dead  Carcass  also.  The  Soul  of  Religion 

is  the  practick  part :  Pure  Religion  and  undejiled,  before  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  hot  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  ourselves,  that  at  the  day  of  Doom 
men  shall  be  judged  according  to  their  fruits.  It  will  not  be 
said  then,  Did  you  believe  ?  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  any  thing  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. 

FAITH.    This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses,  by  which  he 
Faithful  con-        describeth  the  beast  that  is  clean.      He  is  such 
ladwsfof16         an  one  that  parteth  the  Hoof,  and  cheweth  th 
Talkative,  Cud :   not  that  parteth  the  Hoof  only,  or  that 

cheweth  the  Cud  only.     The  Hare  cheweth  the  Cud,  but  yet  i 


THINGS  WITHOUT  LIFE  THAT  SOUND       99 

unclean,  because  he  parteth  not  the  Hoof.  And  this  truly 
resembleth  Talkative ;  he  cheweth  the  Cud,  he  seeketh  know- 
ledge, he  cheweth  upon  the  Word,  but  he  divideth  not  the  Hoof, 
he  parteth  not  with  the  way  of  sinners ;  but  as  the  Hare,  retain- 
eth  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  Talkative  nice 
expounds  them  in  another  place,  Things  without 
life,  giving  sound.  Things  without  life,  that 
is,  ^without  tVip  t.rnft  Faith  and  Grace  of  the  Gospel ;  and 
consequently,  things  that  shall  never  be  placed  in  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  among  those  that  are  the  Children  of  life : 
Though  their  sound,  by  their  talk,  be  as  if  it  were  the  Tongue 
or  voice  of  an  Angel. 

FAITH.  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  company  atjirst,  but 
I  am  as  sick  of  it  now.  What  shall  we  do  to  be  rid  of  him  ? 

CHR.  Take  my  advice,  and  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  you  shall 
find  that  he  will  soon  be  sick  of  your  Company  too,  except 
God  shall  touch  his  heart  and  turn  it. 

FAITH.    What  would  you  have  me  to  do  ? 

CHR.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  serious  dis- 
course about  the  power  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  tor 
Talkative  :  Come,  what  chear  ?  how  is  it  now  ? 

TALK.  Thank  you,  Well.  I  thought  we  should  have  had 
a  great  deal  of  Ta Ik  by  this  time. 

FAITH.  Well,  if  yon  will,  we  will  fall  to  it  now  ,•  and  since 
you  left  it  with  me  to  state  the  question,  let  it  be  this :  Plow 
doth  the  saving  grace  of  God  discover  itself,  when  it  is  in  the 
heart  of  man  ? 


100  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

TALK.    I  perceive  then  that  our  talk  must  be  about  the  power 
of  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    Gmce  °f  God 

grace.  fa  In  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great  outcry 

against  sin.     Secondly, 

FAITH.   Nay  hold,  let  us  consider  of  one  at  once :  I  think 
you  should  rather  say,  It  shows  itself  by  inclining  the  Soul  to 
abhor  its  sin. 
TO  cry  out  TALK.    Why,  what  difference  is  there  between 

against  sin,  m  .  */.  .  . 

sign  of  Grace.       crying  out  against,  and  abhonng  01  sin  r 

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 
i  in  the  Pulpit,  who  yet  can  abide  it  well  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  would  willingly, 
notwithstanding  that,  have  committed  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,  I  am  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.    Tliis  sign  should  have  been  Jlrst ;  but  Jirst  or  last, 

t  know  ^  ™  a^sofa^se  »'  f°r5  Knowledge,  great  knowledge, 
icdrjenosign  may  be  obtained  in  the  mysteries  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    WORK   O*1   GRACE      ..  101 

ike  blessing  in  the  knowing  of  them,  bnt'iit  the  'doing  of  them, 
for  there  is  a  knowledge~JhM~rs~JwT^tteluJecl  with  doing :  He 
that  knoweth  his  Masters  will,  and  doth  it  not.  A  man  may 
know  like  an  Angel,  and  yet  be  iw  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  without  knowledge,  for  without 
that  the  heart  is  naught.  There  is  therefore  Knowledge  and 
knowledge  and  knowledge.  Knowledge  that  knowledge. 
resteth  in  the  bare  speculation  of  things,  and  knowledge  that  is 
accompanied  with  the  grace  of  faith  and  love,  which  puts  a  man 
upon  doing  even  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart :  the  first  of 
these  will  serve  the  Talker,  but  without  the  other  the  true 
Christian  is  not  content.  Give  me  understand-  Tnfe  knowlcd  e 
ing,  and  I  shall  keep  thy  Law,  yea,  I  shall  attended  loan 

.  ,  ,     ,    "  ,  endeavours. 

observe  it  with  my  whole  heart. 

TALK.  You  lie  at  the  catch  again,  this  is  not  for  edifica- 
tion. 

FAITH.  Well,  if  you  please,  propound  another  sign  how  this 
work  of  grace  discovereth  itself  where  it  is. 

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

FAITH.    Well,  if  you  will  not,  will  you  give  me  leave  to  do  it  ? 

TALK.  You  may  use  your  liberty. 

FAITH.    A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discover-     One  go0d.sign 
eth    itselfr  either    to    him    that    hath    it,   or    to     of  grace. 
slanders  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  which  he  is  sure  to  be  damned,  if  he  Jindeth 
not  mercy  at  God^s  hand  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.)  This 
sight  and  sense  of  things  worketh  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for 
sin  ;  he  Jindeth  moreover  revealed  in  him  the  Saviour  of  the 
World,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing  with  him  for  life, 
at  the  which  he  Jindeth  hungerings  and  thirstings  after  him,  to 


102  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

which  hungerings,  etc:  Hie  promise  is  made.  Now  according  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 
know  him  more,  and  also  to  serve  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  work  of 
Grace,  because  his  corruptions  now,  arid  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. 
1.  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his  Faith  in  Christ. 
£.  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  Family,  and  to  promote 
holiness  in  the  World;  not  by  talk  only,  as  an  Hypocrite  or 
Talkative  Person  may  do  :  but  by  a  practical  Subjection  in 
Faith,  and  Love,  to  the  power  of  the  word.  And  now  Sir,  as 
to  this  brief  description  of  the  work  of  Grace,  and  also  the  dis- 
covery of  it,  if  you  have  ought  to  object,  object ;  if  not,  then 
give  me  leave  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  jirst  part  of  this 
Another  good  description  of  it  ?  and  doth  your  life  and  con- 
sign of  Grace.  versation  testify  the  same  ?  or  standeth  your 
Religion  in  Word  or  in  Tongue,  and  not  in  Deed  and  Truth  ? 
pray,  if  you  incline  to  answer  me  in  this,  say  no  more  than 
you  know  the  God  above  will  say  Amen  to ;  and  also,  nothing 
but  what  your  Conscience  can  justify  you  in  :  For,  not  he 
that  commendeth  himself  is  approved,  but  whom  the  Lord 


PLAIN   DEALING   TO   TALKATIVE          103 

commendeth.  Besides,  to  say  I  am  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  recover- 
ing himself,  Thus  he  replyed,  You  come  now  to     Talkative  not 
Experience,  to  Conscience,  and   God  :    and  to     5^/$«zf  * 
appeal    to    him    for   justification    of   what    is     Question. 
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  saw  you  forward  to  talk,  and  because  I 
knew  not  that  you  had  ought  else  but  notion.     TJie  reasons 
Besides,  to  tell  you  all  the  Truth,  I  have  heard    l^{^a^fhat 
of  you,  that  you  are  a  Man  whose  Religion  lies     question. 
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     plain  dealing 

*„  °.        J  to  Talkative. 

worse  jor  your  ungodly  conversations  that  some 
already  have  stumbled  at  your  wicked  ways,  and  that  more 
are  in  danger  of  being  destroyed  thereby  ;  your  Religion,  and 
an  Ale-House,  and  Covetousness,  and  uncleanness,  and  swear- 
ing, and  lying,  and  vain  Company-keeping,  etc.  will  stand 
together.  The  proverb  is  true  of  you,  which  is  said  of 
a  Whore,  to  wit,  That  she  is  a  shame  to  all  Women  ,•  so  you 
are  a  shame  to  all  Professors. 

TALK.  Since  you  are  ready  to  take  up  reports,  and  to  judge 
so  rashly  as  you  do,  I  cannot  but  conclude  you  Talkatil.eflings 
are  some  peevish,  or  melancholy  Man,  not  fit  away  from 

4-      U     J-  J       -4.1  J  J-  Faithful. 

to  be  discoursed  with,  and  so  adieu. 

CHR.  Then  came  up  Christian,  and  said  to  his  Brother, 
I  told  you  how  it  would  happen,  your  words  and  his  lusts 


104  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

could  not  agree ;  he  had  rather  leave  your  company?  than 
Agoodridance.  reform  his  life.  But  he  is  gone  as  I  said;  let 
him  go  ;  the  loss  is  no  man's  but  his  own  ;  he  has  saved  us 
the  trouble  of  going  from  him  ;  for  he  continuing,  as 
I  suppose  he  will  do,  as  he  is,  he  would  have  been  but 
a  blot  in  our  Company  :  besides,  the  Apostle  says,  From 
such  withdraw  thyself. 

FAITH.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little  discourse  with  him, 
it  may  happen  that  he  will  think  of  it  again  ;  howeve?',  I  hare 
dealt  plainly  with  him,  and  so  am  clear  of  his  blood,  if  he 
perisheth. 

CHR.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as  you  did, 
there  is  but  little  of  this  faithful  dealing  with  men  now  a 
days  ;  and  that  makes  Religion  to  stink  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  Fellow- 
ship 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. 

How  Talkative  at  ^ first  lifts  up  his  Plumes ! 
How  bravely  doth  he  speak !  how  he  presumes 
To  drive  down  all  before  him !  but  so  soon 
As  Faithful  talks  of  Heart-work,  like  the  Moon 
Thafs  past  the  full,  into  the  wane  he  goes; 
And  so  will  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  easv,  which  would  otherwise,  no 
doubt,  have  been  tedious  to  them  :  for  now  they  went  through 
a  Wilderness. 


EVANGELISTS   EXHORTATION  105 

Now  when  they  were  got  almost  quite  out  of  this  Wilderness, 
Faithful  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     E      d 
way  to  the  Gate.     Now  was  Evangelist  come     overtakes  them 
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  Th& 

ancient  kindness,  and   unwearied   laboring   for     at  the  sight  of 
,  ,  te    J  him. 

my  eternal  good. 

FAITH.  And,  a  thousand  times  welcome,  said  good  Faithful ; 
Thy  company,  O  sweet  Evangelist,  how  desirable  is  it  to  us, 
poor  Pilgrims ! 

EVANG.  Then,  said  Evangelist,  How  hath  it  fared  with  you, 
my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last  parting  ?  what  have  you 
met  with,  and  how  have  you  behaved  your  selves  ? 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  him  of  all  things  that 
had  happened  to  them  in  the  way  ;  and  how,  and  with  what 
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,     His  exhortation 
and  for  that  you  have  (notwithstanding  many     to  them- 
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.  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 


106  THE   PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

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  resisted  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 
They  do  thank      ^°^  ^m  W^lidl9  ^a^  ^ieil  would  hare  him  speak 


Mm  for  MS  ex-  farther  to  them  for  their  help,  the  rest  of  the 
way  ;  and  the  rather,  for  that  they  well  knew 
that  he  was  a  Prophet,  and  could  tell  them  of  things  that  might 
happen  unto  them  ;  and  also  how  they  might  resist  and  over- 
come them.  To  which  request  Faithful  also  consented.  So 
Evangelist  began  as  follow  eth.  , 

OEvAXG.    My  Sons,  you  have  heard  in  the  words  of  the 
Hepredicteth        truth  of  the   Gospel,  that  you  must  through 


troubles       many  tribulations  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of 

they  shall  meet  "  ..  .  t  ~ 

ivith  in  vanity-  Heaven.  And  again,  that  in  every  City,  bonds 
courageth  them  and  afflictions  abide  in  you  ;  and  therefore  you 
to  stedfastness.  cannot  expect  that  you  should  go  long  on  your 
Pilgrimage  without  them,  in  some  sort  or  other.  You  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 


VANITY   FAIR  107 

King   will   give    you   a   Crown   of  life.      He    that    shall   die 
there,  although  his    death  will   be    unnatural,     He  whoae  lot  it 
and  his  pain   perhaps  great,  he  will    yet  have     wil1  be  th.<;™ io 

r.  ii  suffer,  will  have 

the  better  of  his  fellow;  not  only  because  he  the  better  of  Us 
will  be  arrived  at  the  Ccelestial  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,  All  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   Coelestial   City,  as    these    two     The  Antiquity 
honest  persons  are;    and  Beelzebub,  Apollyon,     of  this  Fair. 
and  Legion,  with  their  Companions,  perceiving  by  the  path 
that  the  Pilgrims  made,  that  their  way  to  the  City  lay  through 
this  Town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived  here  to  set  up  a  Fair T ; 
a  Fair  wherein  should  be  sold  of  all  sorts  of  Vanity,  and  that 
it  should  last  all  the  year  long.     Therefore    at    this   Fair 

1  Behold  Vanity  Fair  !   the  Pilgrims  there 

Are  chain'd  and  stand  beside  ; 
Even  so  it  was  our  Lord  pass'd  here, 
And  on  Mount  Calvary  dy'd. 


108  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

are   all  such  Merchandize  sold,  as   Houses,  Lands,  Trades, 
Places,  Honors,  Preferments,  Titles,  Countries, 

The  Merchan-  '  ' 

dizeoftMs  Kingdoms,  Lusts,  Pleasures  and  Delights  ot 
all  sorts,  as  Whores,  Bawds,  Wives,  Husbands, 
Children,  Masters,  Servants,  Lives,  Blood,  Bodies,  Souls, 
Silver,  Gold,  Pearls,  Precious  Stones,  and  what  not. 

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 
The  streets  of  Britain  Row,  the  French  Row,  the  Italian  Row, 
this  fair.  tne  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 

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  Ccelestial  City  lies  just 

through  this  Town,  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 

Christ  went  o  J 

through  this         Princes  himself,  when   here,  went  through  this 

Town    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 

X  %> 

Vanities  ;  yea,  would  have  made  him  Lord  of  the  Fair,  would 
he  but  have  clone  him  Reverence  as   he  went  through  the 


- 


CAUSES   OF   HUBBUB  111 

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 

Christ  bought 

Merchandize,  and  therefore  left  the  Town,  with-     nothing  in  this 
out  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     The  pu(jrims 
they  entred  into  the  fair,  all  the  people  in  the     enter  the  fair. 
fair  were   moved,  and  the  Town  it  self  as   it 

«/  The  fair  in  a 

were  in  a  Hubbub  about  them  ;    and  that  for     hubbub  about 

-r,  them, 

several  reasons  :  .for, 

First,  the  Pilgrims  were  cloathed  with  such  kind  of  Raiment 
as  was  diverse  from  the  ,  Raiment  of  any  that     The  first  cause 
Traded  in  that  fair.     The  people  therefore  of     of  tue  hubbub, 
the  fair  made  a  great  gazing  upon  them.     Some  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   likewise    at    their   Speech,   for    few    could     2nd  Cause  0/ 
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 
Merchandizes,  was,  that  these  Pilgrims  set  very  Third  cause  of 
light  by  all  their  Wares,  they  cared  not  so  the  hubbub. 
much  as  to  look  upon  them  :  and  if  they  called  upon  them 
to  buy,  they  would  put  their  fingers  in  their  ears,  and  cry, 
Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity  ,•  and  look  up- 
wards, signifying  that  their  Trade  and  Traffic  was  in  Heaven. 


112  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

One  chanced  mockingly,  beholding  the  carriages  of  the 
Fourth  cause  of  men,  to  say  unto  them,  What  will  ye  buy  ? 
me  hubbub.  gut  they,  looking  gravely  upon  him,  said,  We 
buy  the  Truth.  At  that,  there  was  an  occasion  taken  to 
They  are  despise  the  men  the  more  ;  some  mocking,  some 

mocked.  taunting,    some    speaking    reproachfully,    and 

some  calling  upon  others  to  smite  them.  At  last  things 
The  fair  in  a  came  to  an  hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair, 
hubbub.  jn  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 
They  are  ex-  fair  was  almost  overturned.  So  the  men  were 
amined.  brought  to  examination  ;  and  they  that  sat 

upon  them  asked  them  whence  they  came,  whither  they  went, 
and  what  they  did  there  in  such  an  unusual  Garb  ?  The  men 
They  tell  ivho  told  them,  that  they  were  Pilgrims  and  Strangers 

when^eT  in  the  World>  and  thal  ^  Were  S°ing  tO 
came>  their  own  Country,  which  was  the  Heavenly 

Jerusalem  ;  and  that  they  had  given  none  occasion  to  the 
men  of  the  Town,  nor  yet  to  the  Merchandizers,  thus  to 
abuse  them,  and  to  let  them  in  their  Journey.  Except  it 
was  for  that,  when  one  asked  them  what  they  would  buy, 
they  said  they  would  buy  the  Truth.  But  they  that  were 
They  are  not  appointed  to  examine  them  did  not  believe  them 
believed.  J-Q  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 
They  are  put  in  them  with  dirt,  and  then  put  them  into  the 
the  Cage.  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 
Their  behaviour  malice,  or  ivvcuge.  The  Great  One  of  the 
inthecag*.  /^r  laughing  still  at  all  that  befel  them.  But 


THE   PILGRIMS   IN   CHAINS  113 


to' 


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  men  of  the 
the  fair  that  were  more  observing,  and  less  fair  do  fail  out 

.,.-.,  -,  %  i       amongthem- 

prejudiced  than  the  rest,  began  to  check  and     selves  about 
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,  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  nobody  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  had   abused.     Thus,  after  divers 
words  had  passed  on  both  sides,  (the  men  behaving  them- 
selves 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     They  are  made 
Examiners  again,  and  there  charged  as  being     ^St^SmS^ 
guilty  of  the  late  Hubbub  that  had  been  in  the     ance- 
fair.     So  they  beat  them  pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon 
them,  and  led  them  in  chains  up  and  down  the     They  are  led  up 
fair,  for  an  example  and  a  terror  to  others,  lest     and  down  the 

u  fair  in  Chains 

any  should  further   speak  in  their  behalf,  or    for  a  terror  to 

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     some  of  the  men 

(though   but  few  in    comparison    of  the   rest)     of  the  fair  won 

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.    Where-     Their  adver- 

fore    they  threatned  that   the  Cage  nor  irons     to  idii  them. 


114  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Evangelist,  and  was  the  more  con- 
firmed 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  abode  in  the  condition  in  which  they  were,  until 
they  should  be  otherwise  disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they  brought 
They  are  again  them  forth  to  their  Tryal  in  order  to  their 
put  into  the  Condemnation.  When  the  time  was  come, 
brought  to  they  were  brought  before  their  Enemies  and 

rya '"'  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  were  enemies  to,  and  disturbers  of  their  Trade  ; 

Their  indict-        that  they  had  made  Commotions  a?id  Divisions 

in   the    Town,  and   had  won  a  party   to   their 

oivn  most  dangerous  opinions,  in  contempt  of  the  Law  of  their 

Prince. 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer1,  That  he  had  only  set 

1  Now  Faithful  play  the  man,  speak  for  thy  God : 
Fear  not  the  wicked's  malice  nor  their  rod ; 
Speak  boldly  man,  the  truth  is  on  thy  side ; 
Die  for  it,  and  to  life  in  triumph  ride. 


WITNESSES   AGAINST   FAITHFUL          115 

himself  against  that  which  had   set  itself  against  him  that 
is  higher  than  the  highest.     And  said  he,  As     Faithfuls 
for  disturbance,    I    make    none,    being    myself     himself. 
a  man  of  Peace  ;    the  Parties  that  were    won   to  us,   were 
won   by  beholding  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  wit,  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     Envy  begins. 
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, 
notwithstanding  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  Town  of  Vanity,  were  Diametrically  opposite,  and  could 
not  be  reconciled.  By  which  saying,  my  Lord,  he  doth  at 
once,  not  only  condemn  all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us  in  the 
doing  of  them. 

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 


116  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

be  tedious  to  the  Court.  Yet  if  need  be,  when  the  other 
Gentlemen  have  given  in  their  Evidence,  rather  than  any 

o  * 

thing  shall  be  wanting  that  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 
Superstition  man,  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  further  knowledge 
follows.  Of  hjm  .  However  this  I  know,  that  he  is  a  very 

pestilent  fellow,  from  some  discourse  that  the  other  day  I  had 
with  him  in  this  Town  ,-  for  then  talking  with  him,  I  heard 
him  say,  That  our  Religion  was  naught,  and  such  by  which 
a  man  could  by  no  means  please  God :  which  sayings  of  his, 
mv  Lord,  your  Lordship  very  well  knows,  what  necessarily 
thence  will  follow,  to  wit,  That  we  still  do  Avorship  in  vain, 
are  yet  in  our  Sins,  and  finally  shall  be  damned  ;  and  this 
is  that  which  I  have  to  say. 

Then  was  Pickihank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he  knew, 
in  behalf  of  their  Lord  the  King  against  the  Prisoner  at 
the  Bar. 

PICK.  My  Lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  This  fellow  I  have 
Pick-thanks  known  of  a  long  time,  and  have  heard  him 
Testimony.  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 

Sins  are  all  .  . 

Lords  and  Lord  Luxurious,  the  Lord  Desire  of  Vain-glory, 

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 


FAITHFULS   DEFENCE  117 

Villain,  with  many  other  such  like  vilifying  terms,  with  which 
he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  Gentry  of  our  Town.  When 
this  Pickiharik  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.   May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own  defence  ? 

JUDGE.  Sirrah,  Sirrah,  thou  deservest  to  live  no  longer,  but 
to  be  slain  immediately  upon  the  place  ;  yet  that  all  men  may 
see  our  gentleness  towards  thee,  let  us  see  what  thou  hast  to  say. 

FAITH.  1.  I  say  then  in  answer  to  what  Mr.  Envy  hath 
spoken,  I  never  said  ought  but  this,  That  what 

Faithfuls 

Ride,  or  Laws,  or  Custom,  or  People,  were  Jlat     defence  of 
against    the    Word    of  God,   are    diametrically 
opposite  to  Christianity.     If  I  have  said  amiss  in  this,  con- 
vince me  of  my  error,  and  I  am   ready  here  before  you  to 
make  my  recantation. 

2.  As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his  charge 
against  me,  I  said  only  this,  That  in  the  worship  of  God  there 
is  required  a  divine  Faith;  but  there  can  be  no  divine  Faith 
without  a  divine  Revelation  of  the  will  of  God:  therefore  what- 
ever is  thrust  into  the  worship  of  God,  that  is  not  agreeable  to 
divine  Revelation,  cannot  be  done  but  by  an  human  Faith ; 
which  Faith  will  not  be  projit  to  Eternal  life. 

3.  As  to  what  Mr.  Pickihank  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  ,„  T 

Hie  Judge  his 

made  in  this  Town  :  you  have  also  heard  what     speech  to  the 
these  worthy  Gentlemen  have  witnessed  against 


118  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

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  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  Avhoso,  for 
some  time,  called  upon  any  God  but  him,  should  be  cast  into 
the  Lions1  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  sup- 
position, to  prevent  mischief,  no  Crime  being  yet  apparent  • 
but  here  is  a  Crime  apparent.  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, 
The  Jury  and  ^r-  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love-lust, 
th^r  Names.  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 
Every  ones  ^rst  Mr.  Blind-man  the  Foreman,  said,  /  see 

private  Verdict,  dearly  that  this  man  is  an  Herctick.  Then  said 
Mr.  No-good,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  Edrt/t.  Ay, 
said  Mr.  Malice,  for  I  hate  the  rery  looks  of  him.  Then 
said  Mr.  Lore-lust,  I  could  never  endure  him.  Nor  I,  said 


THE  CRUEL  DEATH  OF  FAITHFUL. 


FAITHFULS   CRUEL   DEATH 

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  Rogue,  said  Mr.  Lyar.     Hanging  is 
too  good  for  him,  said  Mr.  Cruelty.     Lets  dispatch  him  out  of 
the  way,  said   Mr.  Hate-light.     Then   said   Mr.  Implacable, 
Might  I  have  all  the  World  given  me,  I  could  not  be  reconciled 
to  him,  therefore  let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in     The    on  l  . 
guilty  of  death ;    And  so  they  did,   therefore     to  bring  him  in 
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 
invented1. 

1    They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him  according 
to  their  Law  ;  and  first  they  Scourged  him,  then     The  Cniel  death 
they  Buffeted  him,  then  they  Lanced  his  flesh     of  Faithful. 
with  Knives ;  after  that,  they  Stoned  him  with  Stones,  then 
prickt  him  with  their  Swords,  and  last  of  all  they  burned 
him  to  Ashes  at  the  Stake.     Thus  came  Faithful  to  his  end. 
Now,  I  saw  that  there  stood  behind  the  multi-     A  chariot  and 
tude,  a  Chariot  and  a  couple  of  Horses,  waiting     %£%£? to 
for  Faithful,  who   (so   soon  as  his    adversaries     Faithful. 
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  Coelestial  Gate.     But  as     Christian  is 
for  Christian,  he  had  some  respit,  and  was  re-     still  alive. 
manded  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. 

1  Brave  Faithful,  Bravely  done  in  word  and  deed ; 
Judge,  Witnesses,  and  Jury,  have  instead 
Of  overcoming  thee,  but  shewn  their  rage, 
When  they  are  dead,  thou  'It  live,  from  age  to  age. 


THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

And  as  he  went  lie  sang,  saying, 

The  Song  that        Well,  Faithful,  thou  liast  faithfully  profest 

tfrFamfuiade  Unto  tliy  Lord :  wlth  wllom  thou  shalt  be  Uest  » 
after  iiis  death.  When  Faithless  ones,  with  all  their  vain  delights, 

Are  crying  out  under  their  hellish  plights. 
Sing,  Faithful,  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 

Christian  has          al°ne»     fol'     tJ16re     WRS      °lie     wh°Se      llftmf     WaS 

another  Com-  Hopeful,  (being  made  so  by  the  beholding  of 
Christian  and  Faithful  in  their  words  and  be- 
haviour, 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 
There  is  more  Christian,  that  there  were  many  more  of  the 

tfiefafrwilf  lllen  in  the  falr  that  W0llld  take  theil>  time 
follow.  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw  that  quickly  after  they  were  got  out  of  the  fair, 
they  overtook  one  that  was  going  before  them,  whose  name 
They  overtake  was  By -ends ;  so  they  said  to  him,  What 
By-ends.  Coun try-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. 

CITR.  Pray  Sir,  what  may  I  call  you  ? 

By-ends  loth  to         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. 


MR.   BY-ENDS   OF   FAIR-SPEECH 

CHR.  This  Town  of  Fair-speech,  /  have  heard  of  it,  and,  as 
I  remember,  they  say  ifs  a  Wealthy  place. 

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

CHR.  Pray,  who  are  your  Kindred  there,  if  a  man  may  be 
so  bold  ? 

BY-ENDS.  Almost  the  whole  Town  ;  and  in  particular,  my 
Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my  Lord  Fair- 
speech,  (from  whose  Ancestors  that  Town  first  took  its  name:) 
Also  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr.  Facing-bothivays,  Mr.  Any-thing, 
and  the  Parson  of  our  Parish,  Mr.  Two-tongues,  was  my 
Mother's  own  Brother  by  Father's  side  :  And,  to  tell  you  the 
Truth,  I  am  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  Daughter  of  a  vertuous  Woman.  She  was 

°  Tlie  wife  and 

my    Lady   Fainings    Daughter,   therefore    she     Kindred  of  By- 

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     where  By-ends 

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  Com- 
pany as  dwelleth  in  all  these  parts.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask 
him;  methinks  he  should  not  be  ashamed  of  his  name.  So 

F3 


THE   PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

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-EXDS.  That  is  not  mv  name,  but  indeed  it  is  a  Nick- 

•/* 

name  that  is  given  me  by  some  that  cannot  abide  me,  and 
I  must  be  content  to  bear  it  as  a  reproach,  as  other  good  men 
have  born  theirs  before  me. 

CHR.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion  to  men  to  call  you 
by  this  name  ? 

BY-ENDS.  Never,  never !  the  worst  that  ever  I  did  to  give 
How  By-ends  them  an  occasion  to  give  me  this  name,  was, 
got  his  name,  t^at  j  jia(j  aiways  the  luck  to  jump  in  my 

Judgment  with  the  present  way  of  the  times,  what- 
ever it  was,  and  my  chance  was  to  get  thereby  ;  but  if 
things  are  thus  cast  upon  me,  let  me  count  them  a 
blessing,  but  let  not  the  malicious  load  me  therefore  with 
reproach. 

CHR.  /  thought  indeed,  that  you  was  the  man  that  I  had 
heard  of,  and  to  tell  you  what  I  think,  I  fear  this  name  belongs 
to  you  more  properly  than  you  are  willing  we  should  think  it 
doth. 

BY-ENDS.  Well,  if  you  will  thus  imagine,  I  cannot 
He  desires  to  ^P  ^.  You  shall  find  me  a  fair  Company- 
keep  company  keeper,  if  you  will  still  admit  me  your 

with  Christian.  -"-   .  '  J 

associate. 

CHR.  If  you  will  go  with  its,  you  must  go  against  Wind  and 
Tide,  the  which,  I  perceive,  is  against  your  opinion:  You 
must  also  own  Religion  in  his  Rags,  as  well  as  when 
in  his  Silver  Slippers,  and  stand  by  him  too,  when 
bound  in  Irons,  as  well  as  when  he  walketh  the  Streets  with 
applause. 

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


BY-ENDS   NEW   COMPANIONS.  125 

CHR.  Not  a  step  further,  unless  you  icill  do  in  ichat  I  pro- 
pound,  as  ice. 

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,  for- 
sook him,  and  kept  their  distance  before  him  ; 

1  t  By-ends  and 

but  one  of  them  looking  back,  saw  three  men     Christian 
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     ne  &a6.  new 
names  were  Mr.  Hold-the-  World,  Mr.  Money-love,     Companions. 
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  Schoolmaster  taught   them  the  art  of 
getting,  either  by  violence,  c6usenage,  Hattery,  lying,  or  by 
putting    on  a  guise  of  Religion  ;    and   these    four    Gentle- 
men   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  ?  Eor  Christian  and  Hopeful  were  yet  within 
view. 

BY-ENDS.  They  are  a  couple  of  far  country-  ^  _ends  C7ja?._ 
men,  that  after  their  mode,  are  going  on  acterofthe 

,^.*       .  Pilgrims. 

Pilgrimage. 

MONY-LOVE.  Alas,  why  did  they  not  stay  that  we  might 
have  had  their  good  company,  for  they,  and  we,  and  you  Sir, 
I  hope?  are  all  going  on  Pilgrimage. 


126  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  arc 
righteous  over-much,  and  such  men's  rigidness  prevails  with 
them  to  judge  and  condemn  all  but  themselves.  But  I  pray 
what  and  how  many,  were  the  things  wherein  you  differed. 

BY-ENDS.  Why  they  after  their  headstrong  manner,  con- 
clude 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  hold- 
ing 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  content  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  nj)  gold  as  dust.  But 


MONY-LOVES   OPINIONS  127 

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  therefore  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-EXDS.  My  Brethren,  we  are,  as  you  see,  going  all  on 
Pilgrimage,  and  for  our  better  diversion  from  things  that  are 
bad,  give  me  leave  to  propound  unto  you  this  question. 

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  extraordinary  Zealous 
in  some  points  of  Religion,  that  he  meddled  not  with  before, 
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  con- 
cerns a  Minister  himself.  Suppose  a  Minister,  a  worthy  man, 
possessed  but  of  a  very  small  benejice,  and  has  in  his  eye 
a  greater,  more  fat,  and  plump  by  far ;  he  has  also  now  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 ;  for  my  part  I  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, 

1.  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful  (this  cannot  be 
contradicted)  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 


128  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  dissenting,   to  serve  them,   some  of  his  principles,  this 
argueth,  1.  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  himself ;  so  then  here  is  a  good  wife,  and  good  customers, 
and  good  gain,  and  all  these  by  becoming  religious,  which  is 
good.    Therefore  to  become  religious  to  get  all  these  is  a  good 
and  profitable  design. 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  this  Mr.  Mony-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 

O  »'  O 

was  able  to  contradict  it,  and  because  Clu'istian  and  Hopeful 


RELIGION   A    STALKING    HORSE  129 

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-world  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,  Joli.  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,  Hypocrites,  Devils  and  Witches  that  are  of  this 
opinion. 

1.  Heathens*  for  when  Hamor  and  Shechem  had  a  mind  to 
the  Daughter  and  Cattle  of  Jacob,  and  saw  that  there  was 
no  ways  for  them  to  come  at  them,  but  by  becoming  cir- 
cumcised, they  say  to  their  companions ;    If  every  male   of 
us  be  circumcised,  as  they  are   circumcised,  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  Religion  the  stalking  horse  they  made 

o  o  ./ 

use  of  to  come  at  them.  Read  the  whole  story,  Gen.  34.  20, 
21,  22,  23. 

2.  The  Hypocritical  Pharisees  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,  Luke  20.  46,  47. 

3.  Judas    the    Devil    was    also    of  this   Religion,  he   was 


130  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Peters  mouth  was  according, 
Acts  8.  19,  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  as  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,  Hypocritical  and 
Devilish,  and  your  reward  will  be  according  to  your  works. 
Then  they   stood   staring  one  upon   another,  but   had   not 
wherewith  to   answer  Christian.     Hopeful  also   approved  of 
the  soundness  of  Christians  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  vessels  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 
The  ease  that  they  came  at  a  delicate  Plain,  called  Ease,  where 
is  butiittieln  they  went  with  much  content ;  but  that  plain 
was  but  narrow^  so  they  were  quickly  got  over 
it.  Now  at  the  further  side  of  that  plain,  was  a  little  Hill 
Lucre  inn  a  called  Lucre,  and  in  that  Hill  a  Silver-Mine, 

dangerous  Hill.       whjch    SQme    Qf    them    thftt    jm(j     fornierly    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 


THE   HILL   LUCRE  131 

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  Silver-Mine,  stood  Demas  (Gentle-     Demasatthe 
man-like,)  to  call  to  Passengers  to  come  and 
see  :    who  said   to   Christian  and  his    Fellow  ;     jje  calls  to 
Ho,  turn  aside  hither,  and  I  will  shew  you  a     %£$*?£"* 

thill0".  come  to  him. 

CHR.  What  thing1  so  deserving,  as  to  turn  ns  out  of  the  way  ? 

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

HOPE.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Let  ns  go  see.  Hopeful 

CHR.  Not  I,  said  Christian;  I  have  heard  ^i^tian 
of  this  place  before  now,  and  how  many  have  llolds  him  back- 
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. 

HOPE.  /  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends  comes  up,  if  lie 
hath  the  same  invitation  as  we,  he  will  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 

*  Christian 


Lord  in  this  way,  and  hast  been  already  con- 
demned  for  thine  own  turning  aside,  by  one  of 


132  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

his  Majesty's  Judges;  and  why  seekest  them  to  bring  us  into 
the  like  condemnation  ?  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 

V  *J 

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  deservest  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 
By-ends  goes  within  sight,  and  they  at  the  first  beck  went 
over  to  Demas.  over  to  j)ema^  NOW  whether  they  fell  into  the 

Pit  by  looking  over  the  brink  thereof;  or  whether  they  went 
down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the  bottom, 
by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these  things  I  am  not 
certain :  But  this  I  observed,  that  they  were  never  seen  again 
in  the  way.  Then  sang  Christian, 

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

Now  I  saw,  that  just  on  the  other  side  of  this  Plain,  the 
They  see  a  Pilgrims  came  to  a  place  where  stood  an  old 

Monu-       Monument,  hard  by  the  Hiffh-way-side,  at  the 
sight  of  which  they  were  both  concerned,  because 


THE  PILGRIMS  SEE  A  STRANGE  MONUMENT. 


LOTS   WIFE  135 

of  the  strangeness  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  Christum  (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,  Reinember  Lots  Wife.  So  he  read  it  to  his  fellow ; 
after  which,  they  both  concluded,  that  that  was  the  Pillar  of 
Salt  into  which  Lofs  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 
discourse. 

CHR.  Ah  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable  sight,  it  came 
opportunely  to  us  after  the  invitation  which  Dernas  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  Lofs  Wife ;  for  wherein 
was  the  difference  'twixt  her  sin  and  mine.  She  only  looked 
back,  and  I  had  a  desire  to  go  see.  Let  Grace  be  adored, 
and  let  me  be  ashamed  that  ever  such  a  thing  should  be  in 
mine  heart. 

CHR.  Let  us  take  notice  of  what  we  see  here,  for  our  help 
for  time  to  come :  This  woman  escaped  one  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 


136  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Komli,  Datlian,  and  Ablram,  with  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  men,  that  perished  in  their  sin,  did  also 
become  a  sign,  or  example  to  others  to  beware.  But  above  all, 
I  muse  at  one  thing,  to  wit,  how  Demas  and  his  fellows  can 
stand  so  confidently  yonder  to  look  for  that  treasure,  which 
this  Woman,  but  for  looking  behind  her,  after  (for  we  read 
not  that  she  stept  one  foot  out  of  the  way)  was  turned  into 
a  pillar  of  Salt ;  specially  since  the  Judgment  which  overtook 
her,  did  make  her  an  example,  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  were 
sinners  exceedingly r,  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  concluded,  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  Judg- 
ments. 

HOPE.  Doubtless  thoti  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. 


THE   RIVER    OF   LIFE  137 

I  saw  then,  that  they  went   on   their   way  to   a  pleasant 
River,  which  David  the  King  called  the  River     A  River, 
of  God ;  but  John,  the  River  of  the  water  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     Treesbythz 
green    Trees,   that  bore  all   manner  of  Fruit ;     Rlver- 
and  the  leaves  of  the  Trees  were  good  for  Medicine ;    with 
the  Fruit  of  these  Trees  they  were  also  much     The  Fruit  an(l 
delighted;   and  the  leaves  they  eat  to  prevent     leaves  of  the 
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     A  Meadow  in 
this  Meadow  they  lay  down  and  slept,  for  here     K'kich  theu lie 

/,-.         -.,,-!  i  down  to  sleep. 

they  might  lie  down  safely.     \  V  hen  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  how  these  Crystal  streams  do  glide 

( To  comfort  Pilgrims)  by  the  Highway  side ; 

The  Meadows  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 


138  THE    PILRGIMS   PROGRESS 

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  was  much  discouraged.,  because  of  the  way. 
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  Meadow,  and  a  Stile  to  go  over  into  it,  and  that 
By-Path-  Meadow  is  called  By -Path- Meadow.  Then  said 

Meadow.  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  alon^; 

One  femptation  J 

does  make  way      bv  the  way  on  the  other  side  of  the  fence.    "Pis 

for  another.  ,.  .  ,         •  j  /-»7    •   ,•         i  •     .1 

according  to  my  wish  said  Ltiristian.,  here  is  the 
easiest  going ;  come  good  Hopeful,  and  let  us  go  over. 

HOPE.    But  how  if  this  Path  should  lead  us  out  of  the  way  ? 

CHII.  That's  not  like,  said  the  other ;  look,  doth  it  not  go 
strong  along  by  the  way  side  ?  So  Hopeful,  being 

EfSSZS  Pervaded  by  his  fellow,  went  after  him  over 
out  of  the  ivay.  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, 

V 

See  what  it  is        To  the  Coclcstial  Gate.     Look,  said  Christian, 

fMin^uh to    did  not  x  tcl1  y°u  so  •  by  this  y°u  may  *ee 

strangers.  We  are  right.     So  they  followed,  and  he  went 

before  them.  But  behold  the  night  came  on,  and  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  seeing  the  way  before  him,  fell  into  a  deep  Pit,  which  was 
A  Pit  to  catch  on  PurPose  there  made  by  the  Prince  of  those 

the  vain-  m'ounds  to  catch  rain  glorious  fools  withal  and 

glorious  in.  111  •  ,  i     i  •     r  n 

was  dashed  to  pieces  with  Jus  tall. 


IN   DANGER   OF   DROWNING  139 

Now  Christian  and  his   fellow  heard  him   fall.     So  they 
called,  to  know  the  matter,  but  there  was  none     Reasoning 
to  answer,  only  they  heard  a  groaning.     Then     5£S5m  and 
said  Hopeful,  Where  are  we  now  ?     Then  was     Hopeful. 
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 
Inept  on  my  way ! 

CHR.  Who  could  have  thought  that  this  path  should  have 
led  us  out  of  the  way  ? 

HOPE.  /  was  afraid  out  at  very  Jirst,  and  therefore  gave 
you  that  gentle  caution.  I  would  have  spoke  plainer,  but  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     Christians 
put  thee  into  such  eminent  danger ;    pray  my     repentance  for 

t,      .,          f        .  T    -,.-.          ,     i      .,       f  r,       leading  of  his 

Brother  forgive  me,  1  did  not  do  it  or  an  evil     Brother  out  of 
intent.  the  waij' 

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

HOPE,  But  good  Brother  let  me  go  before. 

CHR.  No,  if  you  please,  let  me  go  first ;  that  if  there  be 
any  danger,  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  Jirst,  for  your 
mind  being  troubled,  may  lead  you   out  of  the    way  again. 
Then  for  their  encouragement,  they  heard  the  voice  of  one 
saying,  Let   thine  heart    be  towards   the  High-     They  are  in 
way,  even  the  way  that  thou  j^entest^J^rn  again,     <^Stinqas 
But  by  this  time  the  Waters  were  greatly  risen,     they  go  back. 
by    reason    of   which,    the    way    of   going    back    was    very 


140  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

dangerous.  (Then  I  thought  that  it  is  easier  going  out  of 
the  way  when  we  are  in,  than  going  in  when  we  are  out.)  l 
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 
The  l  e  'n  being  weary,  they  fell  asleep.  Now  there  was 
the  grounds  of  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, 
He  finds  them  anc^  walking  up  and  down  in  his  Fields,  caught 
in  his  ground  Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in  his  grounds. 

find  carries 

them  to  Doubt-  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 
The  Grievous-  ^ar^  Dungeon,  nasty  and  stinking  to  the  spirit 
ness  of  their  of  these  two  men.  Here  then  they  lav,  from 

Imprisonment.         TT/.    ,         ,  .          ,  MI    o  j       7  •    uj         'j-U 

Wednesday  morning  till  Saturday  night,  with- 
out 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, 

The  Pilgrims  now,  to  gratify  the  Flesh, 
Will  seek  its  ease;   but  Oh!  how  they  afresh 
Do  thereby  plunge  themselves  new  grieves  into: 
Who  seek  to  please  the  Flesh,  themselves  undo. 


DOUBTING   CASTLE 


141 


and  were  far  from  friends  and  acquaintance.  Now  in  this 
place,  Christian  had  double  sorrow,  because  'twas  through  his 
unadvised  haste  that  they  were  brought  into  this  distress. 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  Wife,  and  her  name  was  Diffi- 
dence. 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, 


GIANT  DESPAIR  BEATS  HIS  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, 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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 
On  Thursday  a  word  of  distaste  ;  then  he  falls  upon  them, 
beat?MsSpair  and  beats  them  fearfully,  in  such  sort,  that  they 
Prisoners.  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 
On  Friday  would  be,  forthwith  to  make  an  end  of  them- 

^£SSta  sdves,  either  with  Knife,  Halter,  or  Poison: 
kill  themselves.  por  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 
Giant  sun-shine  weather  fell  into  fits)  and  lost  (for 


sometimes  has  a  time)  the  use  of  his  hand  :  wherefore  he  with- 
ftts. 

drew,   and    left   them,  (as   before)   to   consider 

what  to  do.  Then  did  the  Prisoners  consult  between  them- 
selves, 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 

Christian  that   we   now   live   is   miserable  ;    for   my  part 

crushed.  j  know  not  whethcr  is  best%  to  ]ivc  thus,  or  to 

die  out  of  hand  ?     My  soul  chooseth  strangling  rather  than 


COMFORT    FOR   CHRISTIAN 

life  ;  and  the  Grave  is  more  easy  for  me  than  this  Dungeon. 
Shall  we  be  ruled  by  the  Giant  ? 

HOPE.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dreadful,  and  death 
would  be  far  more  welcome  to  me  than  thus  for  Hopeful 
ever  to  abide.  But  yet  let  us  consider,  the  Lord  comf°rts  him- 
of  the  Country  to  which  we  are  going,  hath  said,  Thou  shalt 
do  no  murilier,  no  not  to  another  marts  person ;  much  more 
then  are  we  forbidden  to  take  his  counsel  to  kill  ourselves. 
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,  whither  for 
certain  the  murderers  go  ?  for  no  murderer  hath  eternal 
life,  etc.  And,  let  us  consider  again,  that  all  the  Law  is 
not  in  the  hand  of  Giant  Despair.  Others,  so  far  as  I 
can  understand,  have  been  taken  by  him,  as  well  as  we;  and 
yet  have  escaped  out  of  his  hand.  Who  knows  but  that 
God  that  made  the  world  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  another  of  his  Jits 
before  us,  and  may  lose  the  use  of  his  limbs ;  and  if  ever  that 
should  come  to  pass  again,  for  my  part,  I  am  resolved  to  pluck 
up  the  heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try  my  utmost  to  get  from  under 
his  hand.  I  was  a  fool  that  I  did  not  try  to  do  it  before :  but 
however,  my  Brother,  lefs  be  patient,  and  endure  a  wliile ;  the 
time  may  come  that  may  give  us  a  happy  release :  but  let  us 
not  be  our  own  murderers.  With  these  words  Hopeful  at 
present  did  moderate  the  mind  of  his  Brother ;  so  they  con- 
tinued together  (in  the  dark)  that  day,  in  their  sad  and 
doleful  condition. 

Well,  towards  evening  the  Giant  goes  down  into  the  Dun- 
geon 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 


144  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  S  wound  ;  but  coming  a  little  to  himself  again,  they 
renewed  their  discourse  about  the  Gianfs  counsel ;  and  whe- 
Christian  still  ther  yet  they  had  best  to  take  it  or  no.  Now 
dejected.  Christian  again  seemed  to  be  for  doing  it,  but 

Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as  followeth. 

HOPE.  My  Brother,  said  he,  remembrest  thou  not  how  valiant 
Hope  fid  com-  thou  hast  been  heretofore.  Apollyon  could  not 
forts  him  again,  crush  thee,  nor  could  all  that  thou  didst  hear,  or 
former  things  to  see,  or  feel  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death. 
What  hardship,  terror,  and  amazement  hast  thou 
already  gone  through,  and  art  thou  now  nothing  but  fear  ? 
Thou  seest  that  I  am  in  the  Dungeon  with  thee,  a  far  weaker 
man  by  nature  than  thou  art :  also  this  Giant  has  wounded 
me  as  well  as  thee,  and  hath  also  cut  of  the  Bread  and  Water 
from  my  mouth ;  and  with  thee  I  mourn  without  the  light : 
but  lets  exercise  a  little  more  patience.  Remember  how 
thou  playedst  the  man  at  Vanity  Fair,  and  wast  neither 
afraid  of  the  Chain  nor  Cage  •  nor  yet  of  bloody  Death  : 
wherefore  let  us  (at  least  to  avoid  the  shame,  that  becomes 
not  a  Christian  to  be  found  in)  bear  up  with  patience  as 
well  as  we  can. 

Now  night  being  come  again,  and  the  Giant  and  his  Wife 
being  in  bed,  she  asked  him  concerning  the  Prisoners,  and  if 
they  had  taken  his  counsel :  To  which  he  replied,  They  arc 
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  dispatched ;  and  make  them 


THE    KEY   CALLED   PROMISE  145 

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,  On  Saturday 

-rj.-i  T    .  •,  the  Giant 

were  Jrilgrims  as  you  are,  once,  and  they  tres-     threatnedtthat 


passed  in  my  grounds  as  you  have  done  ;  and 
when  I  thought  fit,  I  tore  them  in  pieces  ;  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  lament- 
able case,  as  before.  Now  when  night  was  come,  and  when 
Mrs.  Diffidence  and  her  Husband,  the  Giant,  were  got  to  bed, 
they  began  to  renew  their  discourse  of  their  Prisoners  :  and 
withal,  the  old  Giant  wondered,  that  he  could  neither  by  his 
blows,  nor  counsel,  bring  them  to  an  end.  And  with  that 
his  Wife  replied,  I  fear,  said  she,  that  they  live  in  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  there- 
fore 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,     ^  Key  in 
What  a  fool,  quoth  he,  am  I  thus  to  lie  in  a     &"**&«*      \ 

"  '  bosom  called     \ 

stinking  Dungeon,  when  I  may  as  well  walk  at     Promise,  opens  \ 
liberty  !     I  have  a   Key    in   my    bosom,  called     Doubting  *  '  / 
Promise,   that  will,  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 


J46  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  Prisoners,  felt  his  Limbs  to  fail,  for  his  fits  took 
him  again,  so  that  he  could  by  no  means  go  after  them. 
Then  they  went  on,  and  came  to  the  King's  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 

A  Pillar  erected  ^an(^s  °^  Giant  Despair.  So  they  consented 
by  Christian  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,  who  de~ 
spiseth  the  King  of  the  Ccelestial  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  way  we  went,  and  then  ice  found 
What  "'twas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  ground  : 
And  let  them  that  come  after  have  a  care, 
Lest  heedlessness  makes  them,  as  we,  to  fare  : 
Lest  they,  for  trespassing,  his  jwisoners  arc* 
Whose  Castle's  Doubting,  and  whose  uame^s  Despair. 


*»»^, 


They  went  then,  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable  Moun- 

The  delectable       tains,  which  Mountains  belong  to  the  Lord  of 
mountains,  that  Hil]?  of  ^j^  we  }mve  SpOken  before;   so 


TALK   WITH   THE   SHEPHERDS 

they  went  up  to  the  Mountains,  to  behold  the  Garde  - 
Orchards,  the  Vineyards,  and  Fountains  of  water  ;  wht 
they   drank,   and    washed  themselves,  and    did     2^  are  re_ 
freely  eat  of  the  Vineyards.     Now  there  was  on     freshed  in  the 

*  .  .        ,        i      r«      v  mountains. 

the  tops  oi  these  Mountains  shepherds  reeding 
their  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  high-way  side1.     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     Tajk  with  (he 
delectable  Mountains  are  these?   and  whose  be     Shepherds. 
the  sheep  that  feed  upon  them  ? 

SHEP.  These  Mountains  are  ImmanueTs  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  way  to  the  Ccelestial  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  way  safe,  or  dangerous? 

SHEP.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be  safe,  but  trans- 
gressors shall  fall  therein. 

CHR.  Is  there  in  this  place  any  relief  for  Pilgrims  that  are 
weary  and  faint  in  the  way  ? 

SHEP.  The  Lord  of  these  Mountains  hath  given  us  a 
charge,  Not  to  be  forgetful  to  entertain  strangers :  Therefore 
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, 

1  Mountains  delectable  they  now  ascend, 
Where  Shepherds  be,  which  to  them  do  commend 
Alluring  things,  and  things  that  cautious  are, 
Pilgrims  are  steady  kept  by  faith  and  fear. 


G 


148  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

By  what  means  have  you  so  persevered  therein  ?  For  but 
few  of  them  that  begin  to  come  hither,  do  shew  their  face 
on  these  Mountains.  But  when  the  Shepherds  heard  their 
answers,  being  pleased  therewith,  they  looked  very  lovingly 
The  shepherds  upon  them  ;  and  said,  Welcome  to  the  delectable 

welcome  them.         Mountains. 

The  Shepherds,  I  say,  whose  names  were  Knowledge, 
-true  Names  of  Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere,  took  them 
the  shepherds.  by  the  hand,  and  had  them  to  their  Tents,  and 
made  them  partake  of  that  which  was  ready  at  present. 
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  Shep- 
herds called  up  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  walk  with  them  upon 
the  Mountains.  So  they  went  forth  with  them,  and  wralked 
a  while,  having  a  pleasant  prospect  on  every  side.  Then  said 
They  are  shewn  the  Shepherds  one  to  another,  Shall  we  shew 
wonders.  these  Pilgrims  some  wonders  ?  So  when  they 

had  concluded  to  do  it,  they  had  them  first  to  the  top  of  an 
The  Mountain  Hill  called  Error,  which  was  very  steep  on  the 
of  Error.  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  the  top.  Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth 
this  ?  The  Shepherds  answered ;  Have  you  not  heard  of 
them  that  were  made  to  err,  by  hearkening  to  Hymeneus  and 
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 
unburied  (as  you  see)  for  an  example  to  others  to  take  heed 


WANDERERS   OUT   OF   THE  WAY          149 

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  Mount  Caution. 
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- C astle ; 
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  remain  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  another  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  also  thought  that  they  heard  there 
a  rumbling  noise  as  of  fire,  and  a  cry  of  some  tormented,  and 


150  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

that  they  smelt  the  scent  of  Brimstone.  Then  said  Christian, 
A  by-way  to  What  means  tins?  The  Shepherds  told  them, 
Hel1-  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  ai^d 
dissemble,  with  Ananias  and  Sapphira  his  wife. 

HOPE.  Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  Shepherds,  /  perceive  that 
these  had  on  them,  even  every  one,  a  shew  of  Pilgrimage  as  we 
have  noiv  ;  had  they  not  ? 

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

HOPE.  How  far  might  they  go  on  Pilgrimage  in  their  day, 
since  they  notwithstanding  were  thus  miserably  cast  away  ? 

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.  Av,  and  you  will  have  need  to  use  it  when  you  have 

.  '          j  „' 

it,  too. 

By  this  time  the  Pilgrims  had  a  desire  to  go  forwards,  and 
the  Shepherds  a  desire  they  should ;  so  they  walked  together 
towards  the  end  of  the  Mountains.  Then  said  the  Shepherds 
one  to  another,  Let  us  here  shew  to  the  Pilgrims  the  Gates  of 
The,  She  herds  ^e  Ccelestial  City,  if  they  have  skill  to  look 
Perspective-  through  our  Perspective  Glass.  The  Pilgrims 
then  lovingly  accepted  the  motion :  so  they 
The  Hill  clear,  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 
Shepherds  had  shewed  them  made  their  hand  shake,  by 
The  fruit  of  means  of  which  impediment  they  could  not 
slavish  fear.  iook  steadily  through  the  Glass;  yet  they 
thought  they  saw  something  like  the  Gate,  and  also  some  of 
the  Glory  of  the  place. 


THE   BRISK   LAD   IGNORANCE  151 

Thus  by  the  Shepherds,  Secrets  are  revealed. 
Which  from  all  other  men  are  kept  conceaTd: 
Come  to  the  Shepherds  then,  if  you  would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be. 
When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of  the  Shepherds 
gave  them  a  note  of  the  way,  Another  of  them  bid    ^  two-fold 
them  beware  of  the  Jlatterer,  The  third,  bid  them     caution- 
take  heed  that  they  sleep   not   upon  the  Inchanted  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  Country  of  Conceit,  from  The  Country  of 
which  Country  there  comes  into  the  way  in  ^ceit.wt 

J  J  of  ic Inch,  came 

which   the   Pilgrims    walked,   a   little   crooked     ignorance. 
Lane.     Here  therefore  they  met  with  a  very  brisk  Lad,  that 
came  out  of  that  Country ;  and  his  name  was  Ignorance.     So 
Christian  asked  him,  From  what  parts  he  came?  and  whither 
he  was  going? 

IGN.  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  Country  that  lieth     Christian  and 
off  there,  a  little  on  the  left  hand ;  and  I  am     ignorance  hath 

.        .   .       .  some  talk. 

going  to  the  Celestial  City. 

CHR.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the  Gate,  for  you 
may  Jind  some  difficulty  there  ? 

IGN.  As  other  good  People  do,  said  he. 

CHR.  But  what  have  you  to  shew  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   every  man  his   own  ;    I  Pray,  East,  pay     ^  ^^  Qf 
Tithes,  and  give  Alms,  and  have  left  my  Country     ignorances 
for  whither  I  am  going. 

CHR.  But  thou  earnest  not  in  at  the  Wicket-Gate,  that  is  at 
the  head  of  this  way ;  thou  earnest  in  hither  through  that  same 

7  i. 


152  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

crooked  Lane  ,•  and  therefore  I  fear,  however  thou  mayest  think 
of  thyself,  when  the  reckoning  day  shall  come,  thou  wilt  have 
laid  to  thy  charge  that  thou  art  a  Thief  and  a  Robber,  instead 
of  getting  admittance  into  the  City. 

IGX.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  me,  I  know  you 
He  saith  to  no^  '  ^e  content  to  follow  the  Religion  of  your 

every  one  that  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 
HOW  to  carry  a  fool  walketh  by  the  way,  his  wisdom  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  : 

Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 
On  what  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 
Good  Counsel  to  imbrace,  lest  he  remain 
Still  Ignorant  of  what^s  the  chiefest  gain. 
God  saith,   Those  that  no  understanding  have 
(Although  he  made  them)  them  he  will  not  sarr. 

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 


A   STORY   OF   LITTLE-FAITH 

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  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 

'  O  O 

Turn-away  that  dwelt  in  the  Town  of  Apostacy.     Th&d 
But  he  did  not  perfectly  see  his  face,  for  he  did     of  one  Tia-n- 
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 
damnable  Apostate.     Then  said  Christian  to  his  Fellow,  Now 
I  call  to  remembrance  that  which  was  told  me 

Christian 

of  a  thing  that  happened  to  a  good  man  here-     tdietn  MS 

i  rrn  j»  n  r  •     j     it    •  Companion 

about.      Ine  name  or  the  man  was  LtfMe-JP  own,     a  story  of 


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-way-gate     Broad-way- 
a  Lane  called  Dead-man  's-lane  ;  so  called,  be-     ^ad-m-an's 
cause  of  the  Murders  that  are  commonly  done     Lane- 
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-way-gate 
three  Sturdy  Rogues,  and  their  names  were  Faint-heart,  Mis- 
trust, 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     Little-Faith 
this,  Little  faith  lookt  as  white  as  a  Clout,  and     rob^ed  6# 
had  neither  power  to  fight  nor  fly.     Then  said     Mistrust,  and 
Faint-heart,  Deliver  thy  Purse  ;  but  he  making 
no   haste  to   do   it,  (for  he   was  loth  to  lose  his   Money,) 


154  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Mistrust  ran  up  to  him,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  his 
They  got  away  Pocket,  pulPd  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  felFd 
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  getting  up,  made  shift  to 
scrabble  on  his  way.  This  was  the  story. 

HOPE.  But  did  they  take  from  him  all  that  ever  he 
had? 

CHU.  No :    the  place  where  his  Jewels  were, 

Little-Faith  * 

lost  not  nis  best  they  never  ransack  a,  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 
kecP  himself  alive,  (for  his  Jewels  he  might 
not  sell.)  But  beg,  and  do  what  he  could,  he 
went  (as  we  say)  with  many  a  hungry  belly,  the  most  part  of 
the  rest  of  the  way. 

HOPE.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not  from  him  hi* 
Certificate,  Inj  which  he  was  to  receive  his  admittance  at  the 
Ca'lestial  gate  ? 

CHK.  'Tis  a  wonder,  but  they  got  not  that  :  though  they 
7/6  kept  n-jt  his  mist  it  not  through  any  good  cunning  of  his, 
^awn1**8*0  f°r  ^e  being  dismayed  with  their  coming  upon 
Cunning.  him,  had  neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any 


LITTLE-FAITHS   JEWELS  155 

thing :    so    'twas    more    by    good    Providence    than    by    his 
endeavour,  that  they  mist  of  that  good  thing. 

HOPK.  But  it  must  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!  this  could  not  but  be  He  is  pitied  ~by 
a  great  grief  unto  him.  both- 

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. 

HOPI:.  But  "'tis  a  wonder  that  his  necessities  did  not  put  him 
upon  selling,  or  pawning  some  of  his  Jewels,  that  he  might  have 
wherewith  to  relieve  himself  in  his  Journey. 

CHR.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose  head  is  the  Shell 
to  this  very  day :    For  what  should  he  pawn     Christian 
them  ?    or  to  whom  should  he  sell  them  ?     In     mibbeth  his 
all   that    Country   where    he    wras   Robbed,  his     unadvised 
Jewels  were  not  accounted  of,  nor  did  he  want 
that  relief  which  could  from  thence  be  administred  to  him ; 


156  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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 was  his  greatest  Jewel  ;  and  if  he,  why  might  not  Little- 
Faith  do  so  too  ? 

CHU.  Emu  did  sell  his  Birth-right  indeed,  and  so  do  many 
besides  ;  and  by  so  doing,  exclude  themselves 

about  Esau  and  from  the  chief  blessing,  as  also  that  Crt^^'did. 
Little-Faith.  ^^  you  nmst  ft  Difference  betwixt  Esau 


and  Little-faith,  and  also  betwixt  their  Estates.  Esaiis 
Birth-right  was  typical,  but  Little-faith?  s  Jewels  were  not  so. 
Esau  was  ruled  Esans  belly  was  his  God,  but  Little  -faitlis  bellv 
by  Jus  lust.  was  noj.  so  Esaiis  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  I  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  extrava- 
gances ;  and  made  to  see  and  prize  his  Jewels  more,  than  to 

Esau  never  had      sel1   them>   as    Esau   did    his    Birth-right.       You 

faith-  read  not  any  where  that  Esau  had  faith,  no  not 

so  much  as  a  little.  Therefore  no  marvel,  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  away.  \Yhcn 
their  minds  are  set  upon  their  Lusts,  they  will  have  them 
Little-Faith  whatever  they  cost.  But  Little-faith  was  of 
wponEsaus  another  temper,  his  mind  was  on  things  Divine; 
Pottage.  hi>s  livelihood  was  upon  things  that  were 


HOPEFUL   SWAGGERS  157 

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  iill  his  belly 
with  hay  ?  or  can  you  perswade  the  Turtle-dove     A  comparison 
to  live  upon  Carrion,  like  the  Crow  ?     Though     *$££££ 
faithless  ones,  can   for   carnal  Lusts,  pawn,  or  •  and  tlie  c>'ow- 
mortgage,  or  sell  what  they  have,  and  themselves  outright  to 
boot ;    yet  they   that   have  faith,  saving-faith,  though  but 
a  little  of  it,  cannot  do  so.     Here  therefore,  my  Brother,  is 
thy  mistake. 

HOPE.  /  acknowledge  it ;  but  yet  your  severe  reflection  had 
almost  made  me  angry. 

CHU.  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. 

HOPK.  But  Christian,  These  three  fellows,  I  am  perswaded 
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     Hopeful 
pluck  up  a  greater  heart  ?     He  might,  methinks,     swav<Jers- 
have  stood  one  brush  with  them,  and  have  yielded  when  there 
was  no  remedy. 

CHU.  That   they   are   Cowards,   many  have   said,  but  few 
have  found  it  so  in  the  time  of  Trial.     As  for     NO  great  heart 
a  great  heart,  Little-faith  had  none  ;  and  I  per-     {^^li^here 
ceive  by  thee,  my  brother,  hadst  thou  been  the     uttie  faith. 
Man  concerned,  thou  art  but  for  a  brush,  and      we  have  more 
then   to  yield.     And  verily,  since  this  fc  the     ^X»tL 
height  of  thy  Stomach  now  they  are  at  a  distance     we  a><&  in- 
from  us,  should  they  appear  to  thee,  as  they  did  to  him,  they 
might  put  thee  to  second  thoughts. 


158  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  roar- 
'ing  of  a  Lion.  I  myself  have  been  engaged  as 
this  Little-faith  was,  and  I  found  it  a  terrible 
this  case.  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  was  in  the  way. 

CHR.  True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they  and  their 
Master,  when  Great-grace  hath  but  appeared,  and  no  marvel, 
The  Kings  fnr  hr  injjAr  ff  iiiff1  f  Cham/pjon^.  But  I  tro,  you 

Champion.  wjjj  pu-|.  some  difference  between  Little-faith 

and  the  Kings  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.  /  would  it  had  been  Great-grace,  for  their  sakes. 

CHR.  If  it  had  been  he,  he  might  have  had  his  hands  full. 
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.,  J//.s7/v/,s7,  or  the  other, 
it  shall  go  hard  but  they  will  throw  up  his  heels.  And  when 
a  man  is  down,  you  know  what  can  lie  do. 


THE   KINGS   CHAMPION  159 

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  Combat)  We  despaired  even  of  life :  How  did 
these  sturdy  Rogues  and  their  Fellows  make  David  groan, 
mourn,  and  roar  ?  Yea,  Heman,  and  Hezekiah  too,  though 
Champions  in  their  day,  were  forced  to  bestir  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     Leviathans 
it  is  said,  The  Sword  of  him  that  layeth  at  him     *turdiness. 
cannot  hold  the  Spear,  the  Dart,  nor  the  Habergeon.     He 
esteemeth  Iron  as  Straw,  and  Brass  as  rotten   Wood.     The 
Arrow  cannot   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     The  excellent 
Job's  Horse,  and  had  skill  and  courage  to  ride     mettle  that  is  in 
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  terrible,  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. 


160  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  we  hear  of  others  that  they  have  been  foiled,  nor  be 
tickled  at  the  thoughts  of  our  own  manhood,  for  such  com- 
monly 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, 
lie  fears  us  not  at  all.  Therefore  he  that  had  skill,  hath  said, 
Above  all  take  the  Shield  of  Fojth,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able 
to  quench  all  the  fierif  darts  of  the  wicked. 

"Tis  good  also  that  we  desire  of  the  King  a  Convoy,  yea 
•TisgoodtoJiave  that  he  will  go  with  us  himself.  This  made 
a  Convoy.  David  rejoyce  when  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 

of  Death ;  and  Moses  was  rather  for  dying  where  he  stood, 
than  to  «;o  one  step  without  his  God.  O  mv  Brother,  if  he 

Cl  •' 

will  but  go  along  with  us,  what  need  we  be  afraid  of  ten 
thousands  that  shall  set  themselves  against  us,  but  without 
him,  the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the  slain. 

I  for  my  part  have  been  in  the  fray  before  now.  and  though 
(through  the  goodness  of  him  that  is  best)  I  am  as  you  see 
alive:  yet  I  cannot  boast  of  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  I, ion  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 


THE   PILGRIMS   TAKEN   IN   A   NET         1(51 

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  way  put  itself 
into  their  way,  and    seemed   withal   to   lie   as     A  way  and 
straight  as  the  way  which  they  should  go  ;  and     a  way- 
here  they  knew  not  which  of  the  two  to  take,  for  both  seemed 
straight  before  them  ;  therefore  here  they  stood  still  to  con- 
sider.     And  as  they  were  thinking  about  the  way,  behold 
a  man  black  of  flesh,  but  covered  with  a  very     The  flatterer 
light  Robe,  came  to  them  and  asked  them,  Why    ^nds  tnpm- 
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 

J  t  J  Christ  ion  and 

came  into  the  road,  which  by  degrees  turned,     MS  fellow 
and  turned  them   so  from  the  City  that  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     They  arc,  taken 
compass  of  a  Net,  in  which  they  were  both  so     m  a  Net- 
entangled  that  they  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  and  with  that,  the 
white  robe  fell  off  the  black  mans  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     nej/  bewau 
beware  of  the  flatterers?     As  is  the  saying  of     t^r  conditions. 

the  Wise  man,  so  we  have  found  it  this  day:    A   man  that 

. 

fattereth  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 


162  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Paths  of  the  destroyer.  Here  David  was  wiser  than  we ; 
for  saith  lie,  Concerning  the  works  of  men,  by  tlie  word  of  thy 
lij)$, 1  hare  kept  me  from  the  Paths  of  the  destroyer.  Thus  they 
A  shining  one  lay  bewailing  themselves  in  the  Net.  At  last 
wt^aVj^in  Hiey  espied  a  shining  One  coming  towards  them, 
ins  hand  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  himself  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  the 
They  are  Flatterer.  Then  he  asked  them,  saying,  Where 

did  y°u  lie  the  last  nisht  ?  They  said> with  the 

Shepherds  upon  the  delectable  Mountains.  He 
asked  them  then,  If  they  had  not  of  them  Shepherds  a  note  of 
direction  for  the  way  ?  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,  If  the  Shepherds  did 
Deceivers  fine  n°t  bid  them  beware  of  the  Flatterer?  They 
spoken.  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 
down  ;  which  when  they  did,  he  chastised  them  sore,  to  teach 
them  the  good  way  wherein  they  should  walk  ;  and  as  he  chas- 
tised them,  he  said,  As  many  as  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten  ,• 
'They  are  whipt  ^}e  ^ea^ous  therefore,  and  repent.  This  done,  he 
an'iKcnton  bids  them  go  on  their  way,  and  take  good  heed 

to  the  other  directions  of  the  Shepherds.     So 


REASONING   WITH   ATHEIST  163 

they  thanked  him  for  all  his  kindness,  and  went  softly  along 
the  right  way. 

Come  hither,  you  that  walk  along  the  way ; 

See  how  the  Pilgrims  fare,  that  go  astray! 

They  catched  are  in  an  mtangling  Net, 

*  Cause  tlieij  good  Counsel  lightly  did  forget : 

''Tis  true,  they  resciid  were,  but  yet  you  see 

They're  scourged  to  loot :   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     The  Atheist 
name  was  Atheist,  and  he  asked  them  whither     meets  them. 
they  were  going  ? 

CHR.    We  are  going  to  the  Mount  Sion. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into   a  very  great  Laugh-     iie  Laughs  at 
ter.  them- 

CHR.    Wliat  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. 

CHR.    Why  man?     Do  you  think  we  shall  not     They  reason 
be  received  ?  to^her 

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

CHR.  But  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. 


164  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

CHR.  We  have  both  heard  and  believe  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, 
The  Atheist  had  there  been  such  a  place  to  be  found,  for 

^nunvus       I  have  g°ne  to  seek  ft  further  than  you)  I  am 
World.  gonig  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. 
Christian  CHR.    Then    said   Christian   to    Hopeful  his 

Tprovetli,  his 

Brother.  Fellow, /«?  it  true  which  this  man  hath  said? 

HOPF..  Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  Flatterers ,   remember 

no  •* fids  what    it    hath    cost    us    once    already    for    our 

gracious  harkning  to  such  kind  of  Fellows.     What !   no 

ciTisjwcy 

Mount  Sio?i !  Did  we  not  see  from  the  delectable 
A  remembrance     Mountains  the  Gate   of  the  City  ?     Also,   are 

of  former  chas-  ,  n     l,      T7    -xl    o     V     i. 

foments  is  an      we  n°t  now  to  walk  by  raith  r    .Let  us  go  on, 

help  against          sa{c]    Hopeful   lest    the    man    with    the    Whip 

present  tempta- 
tions, overtakes  us  again. 

O 

You  should  have  taught  me  that  Lesson,  which  I  will  round 
you  in  the  ears  withal ;  Cease.,  my  son^  to  hear  the  Instruction 
that  eanseth  to  err  from  the  words  of  knowledge.  I  say,  my 
Brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  believe  to  the  savin";  of 

o 

the  Soul. 

CHR.  My  Brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question  to  thee*  for 
A  fruit  of  an  that  I  doubted  of  the  truth  of  our  belief  myself: 
bnt  to  prove  thee,  and  to  fetch  from  thec  a  fruit 
of  the  honesty  of  thy  heart.  As  for  this  man*  I  know  that  he 
is  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  World:  Let  thec  and  I  go  on, 
knowing  that  we  have  belief  of  the  Truth,  dud  no  lie  is  of  the 
Truth. 

HOPE.  Now  do  I  re  Joyce  in  the  hope  of  the  Glory  of  God  : 
So  they  turned  away  from  the  man ;  and  he,  laughing  at 
them,  went  his  way. 


THE    INCHANTED   GROUND  165 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  till  they  came 
into  a  certain  Country,  whose  Air  naturally 

J*  J        They  are  come 

tended    to     make    one    drowsy,    if    he    came     totheinchamted 

ftVCltfY}  (1 

a  stranger  into  it.    And  here  Hopeful  began 

to  be  very  dull  and  heavy  of  sleep,  wherefore     nope fni  begins 

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,  Christian  iceeps 
we  never  awake  more.  him  awajce- 

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

CHR.  Do  yon  not  remember  that  one  of  the  Shepherds  Lid  us 
beware  of  the  Inchanted  ground?  He  meant  by  that,  that  we 
should  beware  of  sleeping ;  wherefore  let  ns  not  sleep  as  do 
others,  but  let  us  watch  and  be  sober. 

HOPE.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault,  and  had  I  been 
here  alone,  I  had  by  sleeping  run  the  danger  of 

,        .  .      .       J  &,  .  b    .  ,         He  is  thankful 

death.    I  see  it  is  true  that  the  wise  man  saith, 

Two  are  better  than  one.     Hitherto  hath  thy  Company  been 

my  mercy  ;  and  thou  shalt  have  a  good  reward  for  thy  labour. 

CHR.    Now  then,  said   Christian,    to  prevent     TO  prevent 
drowsiness  in  this  place,  let  us  fall  into  good    /Mtogood  ^ 
discourse.  discourse. 

HOPE.  With  all  my  heart,  said  the  other. 

CHR.   Where  shall  we  begin  ?  Good  discottr8e 

o  ^  prevents 

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

When  Saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither,     The  Dreamers 
And  hear  how  these  two  Pilgrims  talk  together :     note" 
Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them,  in  any  wise, 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsy  slumbering  eyes. 
Saints'1  fellowship,  if  it  be  managd  well, 
Keeps  them  awake,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell. 


166  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

CHR.    Then  Christian  began   and  said,  /  will  ask  you  a 
They  begin  at        question.     How  came  yon  to  think  at  first   of 


sion- 


HOPE.  Do  you  mean,  How  came  I  at  first  to_ 
look  after  the  good  of  myJSnnl.2 

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  delighted  much  in  Rioting,  Revelling,  Drink- 

HopefuVg  .  . 

be/ore  ing,   Swearing,    .Lying,   Uncleanness,  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  Faithful,  that  was  put  to  death  for  his 
Faith  and  good-living  in  Vanity-fair,  That  the  end  of  these 
tilings  is  death.  And  thatjfor  these  things'1  sake,  the  ivrath 
of  God  cometh  upon  the  children  of  disobedience. 

CHR.  And  did  yon  presently  fall  under  the  power  of  this 
conviction  ? 

HOPE.  No,  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  know  the  evil  of 
Hopeful  at  first  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  what  was  the  cause  of  your  earn/ing  of  it  thus  to 
the  first  workings  of  God's  blessed  Spirit  upon  you  ? 

HOPE.  The  causes  were,  1.  I  was  ignorant  that  this  was 
the   work  of  God  upon  me.      I  never  thought 

Reasons  of  his  t  L 

resistingof          that,  by  awakenings  for  sin,  God  at  first  begins 

1  •    i  ,  »'  O  o 

the    conversion    of  a   sinner.     2.    Sin   was  yet 


HOPEFULS   SENSE   OF   SIN  167 

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  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  was  it  that  brought  your  sins  to  mind  again. 

HOPE.  Many  things,  as, 

1.  If  I  did   but    meet  a  good    man    in    the 

o  When  he  had 

Streets  ;  or,  lost  '«'«  sense  of 

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

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

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  with  ease  get  ojf  the  guilt 
of  sin,  when  by  any  of  these  ways  it  came  upon  you  ? 

HOPE.  No,  not  latterly,  for  then  they  got  faster  hold  of  my 
Conscience.  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  hozv  did  you  do  then? 

HOPE.  I  thought  I  must  endeavour  to  mend     when  he  could 


my  life,   for  else  thought  I,  I  am  sure  to  be     " 
damned.  s 

t 

CHR.  And  did  you  endeavour  to  mend  ?  vours  to  mend. 


168  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

HOPE.  Yes,  and  fled  from,  not  only  my  sins,  but  sinful 
Company  too ;  and  betook  me  to  Religious  Duties,  as  Pray- 
ing, Reading,  weeping  for  Sin,  speaking  Truth  to  my  Neigh- 
bors, etc.  These  things  I  did,  with  many  others,  too  much 
here  to  relate. 

CHII.  And  did  you  think  yourself  well  then  ? 
HOPE.  Yes,  for  a  while  ;  but  at  the  last  my  trouble  came 
he  thought     tumbling  upon  me  again,  and   that   over   the 
well.         neck  of  ftU  my  Reformations. 

CHII.  How  came  that  about,  since  you  ictts  uow  Re- 
formed ? 

HOPE.  There  were  several  things  brought  it  upon  me, 
Reformation  at  especially  such  sayings  as  these  ;  All  our  right- 
last  could  not  eons  nesses  are  as  filthy  rags.  By  the  works  of 

help,  and  why.          .       T  7     77   7,      •.•/••/       TT// 

the  Law  no  man  shall  be  justijiea.  When  you 
have  done  all  things,  say,  zee  are  unprofitable:  with  many 
more  the  like.  From  whence  I  began  to  reason  with  my 
self  thus  :  If  all  my  righteousnesses  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 
7/*v  being  a  'tis  but  a  folly  to  think  of  Heaven  by  the  Law. 
STrXfod  T  further  thought  thus  :  If  a  Man  runs  an  100/. 
him-  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. 

CHU.    Well,  and. how  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  oft'  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  ? 


THE   WAY   TO   BE   SAVED  169 

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     His  espying  bad 
into  the  best  of  what  I  do  now,  I  still  see  sin,     £JJS5£* 
new  sin,  mixing  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do.     troubled  him. 
So  that  now  I  am  forced  to  conclude,  that  notwithstanding 
my  former  fond  conceits  of  myself  and  duties,  I  have  com- 
mitted sin  enough  in  one  duty  to  send  me  to  Hell,  though 
my  former  life  had  been  faultless. 

CHR.  And  what  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  ac-     This  made  him 
quainted  :    And  he  told  me,  That  unless  I  could     ^MjS^ 
obtain  the  righteousness  of  a  man  that  never     v'h°  told  him 

11-          i         ...  .  n   .1         •    i  a         the  it-ay  to  be 

had  sinned,  neither  mine  own,  nor  all  the  right-     saved. 
eousness  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  Eool  for  his 
pains  :  but  now,  since  I  see  my  own  infirmity,  and  the  sin 
that  cleaves  to  my  best  performance,  I  have  been  forced  to  be 
of  his  opinion. 

CHR.  But  did  you  think,  when  atjirst  he  suggested  it  to  you, 
that  there  was  such  a  man  to  be  found,  of  whom  it  might  justly 
be  said,  That  he  never  committed  sin  ? 

HOPE.  I  must  confess  the  words  at  first  sounded  strangely, 
but  after  a  little  more  talk  and  company  with  At  ll'hich  he 

i  •        T  -I      i  j»  11  •      •  •  started  at 

him,  I  had  full  conviction  about  it.  present. 

CHR.  And  did  you  ask  him  what  man  this  was,  and  how  yon 
must  be  justified  by  him  ? 

HOPE.   Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord  Jesus,  that 
dwelleth  on  the  right  hand  of  the  most  High  :     A  more  par- 
and   thus,  said  he,   you   must    be  justified  by     ^^  of  "the 
him,  even  by  trusting  to  what  he   hath   done     K'au to  be  saved. 


170  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  efficacy,  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 
himself,  but  for  me  ;  to  whom  his  doings,  and  the  worthiness 
of  them  should  be  imputed,  if  I  believed  on  him. 

CHR.  And  what  did  you  do  then  ? 

lie  doubt*  of  HOPK.  I  made  my  objections  against  my  be- 

acceptation.          lieviiiff,  for  that  I  thought  he  was  not  willing 

O'  O  O 

to  save  me. 

CHK.  And  what  said  Faithful  to  you  then  ? 

HOPE.  He  bid  me  go  to  him  and  see.  Then  I  said,  It  wa* 
presumption  :  but  he  said,  No  ;  for  I  was  invited  to  come. 
He  is  utter  Then  he  gave  me  a  Book  of  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 
He  is  bid  to  I  came  :  and  he  bid  me  say  to  this  effect,  God 
Pray-  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  and  make  me.  to 

know  and  believe  in  Jesus  Christ  •  for  I  see  that  if  his 
righteousness  had  not  been,  or  I  have  not  faith  in  that  righteous- 
ness, I  am  utterly  cast  away.  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  willing'  to  bestow  him  upon  such  a  poor  sinner  as  I  am, 
(and  I  am  a  sinner  indeed)  Lord  take  therefore  t/iis  oppor- 


CHRIST   IS   REVEALED  171 

tunity,  and  magnify  thy  grace  in  the  Salvation  of  my  soul, 
through  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ,  Amen. 

CHR.  And  did  you  do  as  you  were  bidden  ? 

HOPE.  Yes  ;  over,  and  over,  and  over.  He  prays. 

CHR.  And  did  the  Father  reveal  his  Son  to  you  ? 

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

CHR.    What  did  you  do  then  ? 

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

CHR.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off'  praying? 

HOPE.  Yes,  an  hundred  times,  twice  told.  He  ^ow^  to 


CHR.  And  what  was  the  reason  you  did  not?  leave  off 
HOPE.    I  believed  that  that  was  true  which 

mi  •  i  He  durst  not 

had  been  told  me;    to  wit,   lhat  without  the  leave  off  prat/- 


righteousness of  this  Christ,  all  the  World 
could  not  save  me  :  and  therefore  thought  I  with  myself, 
If  I  leave  off,  I  die  ;  and  I  can  but  die  at  the  throne  of 
Grace.  And  withal,  this  came  into  my  mind,  If  it  tarry, 
wait  for  it,  because  it  will  surely  come,  and  will  not  tarry.  So 
I  continued  praying  until  the  Father  shewed  me  his  Son. 

CHR.  And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  ? 

HOPE.  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes,  but  with 
the  eye^L  <*f  mine  understanding  ;   and  thus  it     christ  ,-,  rc_ 
was.     One  day!  was  very  sad,  Ithink  sadder     veaied  to  him, 

,,  .  .  ,.,,  i    4.1  •        andhotv. 

than  at  any  one  time  in  my  me  ;  and  this 
sadness  Avas  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  damnation  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,  My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee.  Then  I  said, 
But  Lord,  what  is  believing  ?  And  then  I  saw  from  that 


172  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

saying,  [He  that  cometli  to  me  shall  never  hunger,  and  lie  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  farther,  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  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out.  Then  I  said,  But  how,  Lord,  must  I  consider  of 
thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my  faith  may  be  placed 
aright  upon  thee  ?  Then  he  said,  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
World  to  save  sinners.  He  is  the  end  of  the  Law  for  righteous- 
ness to  every  one  that  believes.  He  died  for  our  sins,  and  rose 
again  for  our  justification.  He  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from 
our  sins  in  his  own  blood.  He  is  Mediator  between  God  and 
us.  He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us.  From  all 
which  I  gathered  that  I  must  look  for  righteousness  in  his 
person,  and  for  satisfaction  for  my  sins  by  his  blood  ;  that 
what  he  did  in  obedience  to  his  Father's  Law,  and  in  sub- 
mitting 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  was  a  Revelation  of  Christ  to  your  soul  indeed. 
But  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 
j ustly  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 


IGNORANCE   COMES   UP  AGAIN  173 

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  Ignorance,  whom  they  had  left  behind,  coming  after. 
Look,  said  he  to  Christian,  how  far  yonder  Youngster  loitereth 
behind. 

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

HOPE.  But  I  tro,  it  would  not  have  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  however  let     Vouno 

jf       T  o      j.i          J-J  Ignorance 

us  tai~ry  jor  him.     feo  they  did.  comes  up  again. 

Then  Christian  said  to  him,  Come  away  man ;     Their  talk. 
why  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  however,  come  up, 
and  let  us  talk  away  the  time  in  this  solitary  place.  Then 
directing  his  Speech  to  Ignorance,  he  said,  Come,  how  do 
you  ?  how  stands  it  between  God  and  your  Soul  now  ? 

IGN.  I  hope   well,  for  I  am    always    full    of 

J       >  Ignorance's 

good    motions   that    come    into    my    mind    to     hope,  and  the 

f  T         II  ground  of  it. 

comtort  me  as  1  walk. 

CHR.    What  good  motions  ?  pray  tell  us. 

IGN.  Why,  I  think  of  God  and  Heaven. 

CHR.  So  do  the  Devils  and  damned  Souls. 

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  leaving  of  all  is  an  hard  matter, 


174  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 


yea  a  harder  matter  then  many  are  aware  of.     But  why,  or 
by  what,  art  thou  perswaded  that  thou  hast  left  all  for  God 
and  Heaven  ? 
J  IGN.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

CHB.  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  how  dost  thou  prove  that  ? 

IGX.  It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  Heaven. 

CHR.   That  may  be  through  its  deceltfulness ;  for  a  mans 
heart  may  minister  comfort  to  him  in  the  hopes  of  that  thing 
for  which  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  thcc 
so!  Except  the  word  of  God  beareth  witness  in  this  matter* 
other  Testimony  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  Com- 
mandments ? 

! 

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  have  these,  and  another  thing  only 
to  think  so. 

IGN.  Pray  what  count  you  good  thoughts,  and  a  life  accord- 
in";  to  God's  Commandments  ? 

o 

CHR.  There  are  good  thoughts  of  diver*  Jcbids,  some 
respecting  ourselves,  some  God,  some  Christ,  and  some  other 
things. 

are  good          IciN.  What  be  good  thoughts  respecting  our- 

selyes  ? 

Ciiu.  Such  as  agree  with  the  Word  of  God. 


WHAT  ARE    GOOD   THOUGHTS  175 

IGN.  When  does  our  thoughts  of  ourselves  agree  with  the 
Word  of  God  ?  .vv<L-/"W 

CHR.  When  zee  pass  the  same  Judgment  upon  ourselves  which 
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  con- 
tinually. And  again,  The  imagination  of  man's  heart  is  evil 
from  his  Youth.  Now  then,  when  we  think  thus  of  ourselves, 
having  sense  thereof,  then  are  our  thoughts  good  ones,  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 
thyself  in  thy  life.  But  let  me  go  on  :  As  the  Word  passeth  a 
Judgment  upon  our  HEART,  so  it  passeth  a  Judgment  upon 
our  WAYS ;  and  when  our  thoughts  of  our  HEARTS  and 
WAYS  agree  with  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  mail's  ways  are 
crooked  ways,  not  good,  but  perverse.  It  saith,  They  are 
naturally  out  of  the  good  way,  that  they  have  not  known  it. 
Now  when  a  man  thus  thinketh  of  his  ways,  I  say  when  he  doth 
sensibly,  and  with  heart-humiliation  thus  think,  then  hath  he 
good  thoughts  of  his  own  ways,  because  his  thoughts  now  agree 
with  the  judgment  of  the  Wo?*d  of  God. 

IGN.  What  are  good  thoughts  concerning  God  ? 

CHR.  Even  (as  I  have  said  concerning  ourselves)  when  our 
thoughts  of  God  do  agree  with  what  the  Word  saith  of  him. 
And  that  is,  when  we  think  of  his  Being  and  Attributes  as  the 
Word  hath  taught :  of  which  I  cannot  now  discourse  at  large. 
But  to  speak  of  him  with  reference  to  us,  then  we  have  right 
thoughts  of  God,  when  we  think  that  he  knows  us  better  than  we 
know  ourselves,  and  can  see  sin  in  us,  when  and  where  we  can 


176  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

see  none  in  ourselves ;  when  we  think  he  knows  our  inmost 
thoughts.,  and  that  our  heart  with  all  its  depths  is  always  open 
unto  his  eyes.  Also  when  we  think  that  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  no  further  than  I  ?  or  that  I  would  come  to  God  in 
the  best  of  my  performances  ? 

CHR.    Why,  how  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter  ? 

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

CHR.  How !  think  thou  must  believe  in  Christ •,  when  thou 
seest  not  thy  need,  of  him  !  Thou  neither  seest  thy  original,  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  Chrises  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.  How  doest  thou  believe  ? 

IGN.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners,  and  that  I  shall 
The  Faith  of  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  Religious 
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  where  described  in  the  Word. 

Q.   Thou  believest  with  a  False  Faith,  because  It  taketh  Justi- 
fication from  the  personal  righteousness  of  Christ,  and  applies 
it  to  thy  own. 

8.   This  faith  maketh  not  Christ  a  Justlficr  of  thy  person, 


THE   FAITH   OF   IGNORANCE  177 

but  of  thy  actions  ;  and  of  tliy  person  for  thy  actions'1  sake, 
which  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even  such  as  will  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  Chrises  righteousness: 
( Which  righteousness  of  his,  is  not  an  act  of  grace,  by  which 
he  mdkeihfor  Justification  thy  obedience  accepted  with  God,  but 
his  personal  obedience  to  the  Law  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  our  lust,  and  tolerate  us  to  live  as  we  list.  For 
what  matter  how  we  live,  if  we  may  be  justified  by  Christ's 
personal  righteousness  from  all,  when  we  believe  it  ? 

CHR.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name  is,  so  art  thou; 
even  this  thy  answer  demonstrateth  what  I  say.  Ignorant  thou 
art  of  what  Justifying  righteousness  is,  and  as  ignorant  how  to 
secure  thy  Soul  through  the  faith  of  it,  from  the  heavy  wrath 
of  God.  Yea,  thou  also  art  ignorant  of  the  true  effects  of 
saving  faith  in  this  righteousness  of  Christ,  which  is,  to  bow  and 
win  over  the  heart  to  God  in  Christ,  to  love  his  Name,  his  Word, 
Ways,  and  People  ;  and  not  as  thou  ignorantly  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 
what  both  you,  and  all  the  rest  of  you  say  about     ignorance 
that  matter,  is  but  the  fruit  of  distracted  brains.      them. 

HOPE.  Why  man  !  Christ  is  so  hid  in  God  from  the  natural 
apprehensions  of  all  flesh,  that  he  cannot  by  any  man  be 
savingly  known,  unless  God  the  Father  reveals  him  to  them. 


178  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Bespeaks  lox.    That  Is  your  faith,  but  not  mine;  yet 

If'whafhe1^       ™ne  I  doubt  not,  ?,9  as  good  as  yours  :  though  I 
knows  not  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  are  ignorant  of.  Be  awakened  then,  see  thine 
own  wretchedness,  and  fly  to  the  Lord  Jesus  ;  and  by  his 
righteousness,  which  is  the  righteousness  of  God,  (for  he 
himself  is  God)  thou  shalt  be  delivered  from  condemnation. 
The  talk  broke  IGN.  You  go  so  fast,  I  cannot  keep  pace  with 
you  ,•  do  you  go  on  before,  I  must  stay  awhile 
behind. 

Then  they  said, 

Well  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be 
To  slight  good  Counsel,  ten  times  given  thee  ? 
And  If  thou  yet  refuse  It,  thou  shalt  know 
Ere  long  the  evil  of  thy  doing  so. 
Remember  man  In  time,  stoop,  do  not  fear, 
Good  Counsel  taken  well,  saves ;  therefore  hear. 
But  If  thou  yet  shalt  slight  It,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser  (Ignorance)  Fll  warrant  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  Ignorance  he  came  hobbling  after.  Then  said  Christ  inn 
to  his  companion,  It  pities  me  much  for  this  poor  man,  it 
certainly  go  III  with  him  at 


THE   GOOD   USE   OF   FEAR  179 

HOPE.  Alas,  there  are  abundance  in  our  Town  in  his  con- 
dition ;  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  now  we  are  by  ourselves,  what 
do  you  think  of  such  men  ?  Have  they  at  no  time,  think  you , 
convictions  of  sin,  and  so  consequently  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  convictions 
tend  to  their  good ;  and  therefore  they  do  desperately  seek  to 
stifle  them,  and  presumptuously  continue  toJJatter  themselves  in 
the  way  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  77^  good  use  Of  I 
beginning  to  go  on  Pilgrimage.  Sear- 

CHR.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  be  right :  for  so  says 
the  word,  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the  beginning  of  Wisdom. 

HOPE.  How  will  you  describe  right  fear  ? 

CHR.   True,  or  right  fear,  is  discovered  by  three     Rie/htfear. 
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  Salva- 
tion. 

3.  It  begetteth  and  continueth  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  dishonour  God,  break  its  peace,  grieve 
the  Spirit,  or  cause  the  Enemy  to  speak  reproachfully. 

HOPE.  Well  said,  I  believe  you  have  said  the  truth.  Are 
we  now  almost  got  past  the  enchanted  ground  ? 

H 


180  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

CHR.    Why,  are  you  weary  of  this  discourse? 

HOPE.  No  verily,  but  that  I  would  know  where  we  are. 

CHR.  We  have  not  now  above  tivo  miles  further  to  go  thereon. 
Why  ignorant  But  let  us  return  to  our  matter.  Now  the  Igno- 
^onvicfions16  rant  know  not  that  such  convictions  that  tend  to 

1.  in  general.        put  them  in  fear,  are  for  their  good,  and  there- 
fore they  seek  to  stifle  them. 

HOPE.  How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them  ? 

CHR.    1.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wrought  by  the 

2.  inparticuiar.     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  confident.     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,  we  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  'know  about  ten  years  ago,  one 
Talk  about  one  Temporary  in  your  parts,  who  was  a  forward 

Temporary.  man   -%n  Religlon  tnen  ? 

HOPE.  Know  him  !  Yes,  he  dwelt  in  Graceless,  a  Town 
Where  he  dwelt,  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and  he  dwelt 
next  door  to  one  Turn-bach. 

CHR.  Right,  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with  him.  Well, 
He  was  to-  ^O-t  man  was  much  awakened  once ;  I  believe 

wardlyonce.  ^m^  tfien  jie  jmci  8ome  sjght  of  his  sins,  and 

of  the  wages  that  was  due  thereto. 


WHY   TOWARDLY    ONES    GO   BACK        181 

HOPE.  I  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.  That  he  was  resolved  to  go  on 
Pilgrimage  as  we  go  now ;  but  all  of  a  sudden  he  grew 
acquainted  with  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.  It  may  be  very  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     Reasonswhy 
the  power  of  guilt  weareth  away,  that  which     towardiy  ones 
provoked  them  to  be  Religious  ceaseth.    Where- 
fore 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  alienate  from  his  vomit,  he  turns 

o 

him  about  and  licks  up  all.  And  so  it  is  true  which  is  written, 
The  Dog  is  turned  to  his  own  vomit  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. 


182  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

£.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that  do  over- 
master 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. 

3.  The  shame  that  attends  Religion  lies  also  as  a  block  in 
their  way ;    they  are  proud  and  haughty,  and  Religion  in 
their  eye  is  low  and  contemptible.     Therefore  when  they  have 
lost  their  sense  of  Hell  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  want  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  ojf'ence ;  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. 


THE  COUNTRY  OF  BEULAH      183 

CHR.  So  I  will  willingly.  How  the 

1.  They  draw   off  their   thoughts,   all  that     Apostate  goes 
they    may,    from    the    remembrance    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 
Avith  carnal,  loose,  and  wanton  men. 

7.  Then  they  give  way  to  carnal  and  wanton  discourses  in 
secret ;    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 


184  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

this  Country  the  Sun  shineth  night  and  day  ;  wherefore  this 
was  beyond  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  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 
Angels.  them  some  of  the  Inhabitants  thereof;  for  in 

this  Land  the  shining  Ones  commonly  walked,  because  it  was 
upon  the  Borders  of  Heaven.  In  this  Land  also  the  contract 
between  the  Bride  and  the  Bridegroom  was  renewed  ;  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  met  with  abundance  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  o/'Zion,  Behold  thy  Salvation  cometh,  behold,  his 
reward  is  with  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 
love. 

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 


THE   KINGS   VINEYARDS 


185 


way  ;  to  whom  the  Pilgrims  said,  Whose  goodly  Vineyards 
and  Gardens  are  these  ?  He  answered,  They  are  the  KingX 
and  are  planted  here  for  his  own  delights,  and  also  for  the 
Solace  of  Pilgrims.  So  the  Gardener  had  them  into  the 


CHRISTIAN  AND  HOPEFUL  IN  THE  KING'S  VINEYARDS. 

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 


186  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

sleep  at  this  time,  than  ever  they  did  in  all  their  Journey  ; 
and  being  in  a  muse  thereabout,  the  Gardener  said  even  to 

o 

me  Wherefore  musest  thou  at  the  matter  ?  It  is  the  nature 
of  the  fruit  of  the  Grapes  ®f  these  Vineyards  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  ex- 
tremely 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. 

These  men  asked  the  Pilgrims  whence  they  came  ?  and 
they  told  them  ;  they  also  asked  them,  Where  they  had 
lodged,  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. 

w  I  further  saw  that  betwixt  them  and  the  Gate  was  a 
Death,  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 
Death  is  not  way  to  the  Gate  ;  to  which  they  answered,  Yes, 
nature,  though  but  there  hath  not  any,  save  two,  to  wit,  Enoch 
$gS*y£ff*  and  Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread  that  path, 
into  Glory.  since  the  foundation  of  the  World,  nor  shall, 


mm  .»; mm 


^rSfea,  *ms&-. 

3=4^      Mwf~;' 
|^f^&V  •:"*'1' 


;' 


H   3 


THE  CONFLICT  AT  THE  HOUR  OF  DEATH  189 

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 

J  Angels  help  us 

they  :   You  shall  Jind  it  deeper  or  shallower,  as     not  comfortably 

T7.  .       .-,  ""    jr.  />.7         7  through  death. 

you  believe  in  the  King  oj  the  place. 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the  Water ;  and  entring, 
Christian  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  cEeerpiny  Brother,  I  feel 
the  bottom,  and  it  is  good.   Then  said  Christian,     Christians 
Ah  my  friend,  the  sorrows  of  death  have  com-     conflict  at  the 

-i  Tin  T  hour  of  death. 

passed  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  trouble- 
some 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,  saying, 


190  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  men, 
neither  are  the?/  plagued  like  other  men.  These  troubles  and 
distresses  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 
Christian  a   while ;    to    whom   also   Hopeful  added   this 

™Sffn°m  word,  Be  of  good  cheer,  Jems  Christ  maketli 
deaih-  thee  whole:  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,  I  will  be  with  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 
nieAn  is  do  them.  Wherefore  being  come  up  out  of  the 
wait  for  them  River,  they  saluted  them  saying,  We  are 

so  soon  as  they  ...          o    •    •  /  _/>    j  7     j  •    •  ±         _r 

are  passed  out  ministrmg  spirits,  sent  jortli  to  minister  jor 
of  this  world.  tjwse  that  shall  be  Helrs  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 


TALK  WITH   THE   SHINING   ONES         191 

lead  them  up  by  the  Arms ;    also  they  had  left  tKeir  Mortal 
Garments    behind    them    in    the    River;     for     They  have  put 
though  they  went   in   with  them,  they   came     off  mortality 
out  without  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  there- 
fore   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  inexpressible.  There,  said  they,  is  the  Mount 
Sion,  the  Heavenly  Jerusalem,  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  things  as  you  saw  when  you  were  in  the  lower 
Region  upon  the  Earth,  to  wit,  sorrow,  sickness,  affliction, 
and  death,  for  the  former  tilings  are  passed  away.  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 


192  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

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  l  :  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 
to  the  Marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb : 

There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to  meet  them  several  of 

1  Now,  now  look  how  the  holy  Pilgrims  ride, 
Clouds  are  their  Chariots,  Angels  are  their  Guide : 
Who  would  not  here  for  him  all  Hazards  run, 
That  thus  provides  for  his  when  this  World's  done? 


A   HEAVENLY   WELCOME  193 

the  Kings  Trumpeters,  cloathed  in  white  and  shining  Rai- 
ment, who  with  melodious  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  wrent,  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  wel- 
come 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  wras 
written  over  it,  in  Letters  of  Gold,  Blessed  are  they  that 
do  his  commandments,  that  they  may  have  right  to  the 
Tree  of  life ;  and  may  enter  in  through  the  Gates  into 
the  City. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  the  shining  men  bid  them 
call  at  the  Gate  ;  the  which  when  they  did,  some  from  above 


194  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

looked  over  the  Gate,  to  wit,  Enoch,  Moses,  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  com- 
manded 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  Raiment  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,  Blessing,  Honour,  Glory,  and  Power,  be  to  him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  Throne,  and  to  the  Lamb  for  ever 
and  ever. 

Now  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 


IGNORANCE   AND   VAIN-HOPE  195 

head  to  look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance  come  up  to  the  River 
side ;    but  he  soon   got  over,  and  that   with- 

V  Ignorance, 

out  half  that  difficulty  which  the  other  two  men     come*  up  to  the 

fffiflpWI 

met  with.  For  it  happened  that  there  was  then 
in  that  place  one  Vain-hope  a  Ferry-man,  that  vain-Hope,  does 
with  his  Boat  helped  him  over :  so  he,  as  the  ferry  Mm  over' 
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  by  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  commanded  the  two  shining  Ones  that 
conducted  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  the  City,  to  go  out 
and  take  Ignorance  and  bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and 
have  him  away.  Then  they  took  him  up,  and  carried  him 
through  the  air  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in  the  side  of  the 
Hill,  and  put  him  in  there.  Then  I  saw  that  there  was 
a  way  to  Hell,  even  from  the  Gates  of  Heaven,  as  well  as 
from  the  City  of  Destruction.  So  I  awoke,  and  behold  it  was 
a  Dream. 


FINIS. 


The  Conclusion. 

\Totv  Reader,  I  have  told  my  Dream  to  tliee ; 
•*•  See  if  tJwu  canst  Interpret  it  to  me ; 

Or  to  thyself,  or  Neighbor:  but  take  heed 
Of  mis-interpreting  ;  for  that,  instead 
Of  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse  : 
By  mis-interpreting  evil  insues. 

Take  heed  also,  that  thou  be  not  extream, 
In  playing  with  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  within  my    Vail; 
Turn  up  my  Metaphors  and  do  not  fail 
There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  to  find, 
As  will  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 

What  of  my  dross  thou  findest  there,  be  bold 
To  throw  away,  but  yet  preserve  the  Gold. 
What  if  my  Gold  be  wrapped  up  in  Ore  ? 
None  throzvs  away  the  Apple  for  the  Core. 
But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 
I  know  not  but  "'twill  make  me  dream  again. 

THK    END. 


THE 

PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 


FROM 


THIS  WORLD 


TO 

THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME 

THE  SECOND  PART 

DELIVERED    UNDER    THE    SIMILITUDE    OF    A 

DREAM 

WHEREIN   IS    SET   FORTH 

THE  MANNER  OF  THE  SETTING  OUT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  WIFE 

AND  CHILDREN,  THEIR  DANGEROUS  JOURNEY,  AND 

SAFE  ARRIVAL  AT  THE  DESIRED  COUNTRY 


JOHN  BUNYAN 


/  have  used  similitudes.     HOSEA  xii.  10 


THE 

AUTHORS   WAY   OF   SENDING   FORTH 

HIS 

SECOND   PART 

OF   THE 

PILGRIM 

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

Tell  them  that  they  have  left  their  House  and  Home, 
Are  turned  Pilgrims,  seek  a   World  to  come : 
That  they  have  met  with  hardships  in  the  way, 
That  they  do  meet  with  troubles  night  and  Day; 
That  they  have  trod  on  Serpents,  fought  with  Devils, 
Have  also  overcome  a  many  evils. 
Yea  tell  them  also  of  the  next,  who  have 
Of  love  to  Pilgrimage  been  stout  and  brave 

199 


200        THE   AUTHORS   WAY   OF   SENDING 

Defenders  of  that  way,  and  how  they  still 
Refuse  this   World,  to  do  their  Father's  will. 

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

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

1.  Object. 

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

Answer. 

'jfw  true,  some  have  of  late,  to  Counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own,  my   Title  set  ,• 
Yea  others,  half  my  name  and  Title  too 
Have  stitched  to  their  Book,  to  make  them  do  ,• 
But  yet  they  by  their  Features  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whosee^r  they  arc. 

If  such  thou  meefst  with,  then  thine  only  way 
Before  them  all,  is,  to  say  out  thy  say, 
In  thine  own  native  Language,  which  no  man 
Now  uscth,  nor  with  case  dissemble  can. 


FORTH   HIS   SECOND   PART  201 

If  after  all,  they  still  of  you  shall  doubt, 
Thinking  that  you  like  Gipsies  go  about, 
In  naughty -wise  the  country  to  defile, 
Or  that  you  seek  good  People  to  beguile 
With  things  unwarrantable:  send  for  me 
And  I  will  Testifie  you  Pilgrims  be  ; 
Yea,  I  will  Testifie  that  only  you 
My  Pilgrims  are :   and  that  alone  will  do. 

%.    Object. 

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

Answer. 

Fright  not  thyself,   my  Book,  for  such  Bugbears 
Are  nothing  else  but  ground  for  groundless  fears  : 
My  Pilgrim's  Bool:  has  travelled  Sea  and  Land,   $ 
Yet  could  I  never  come  to  understand, 
That  it  was  slighted,  or  turned  out  of  Door 
By  any  Kingdom,  were  they  Rich  or  Poor. 

In  France  and  Flanders  where  men  hill  each  other, 
My  Pilgrim  is  esteem  d  a  Friend,  a  Brother. 

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

Highlanders,  and  Wild-Irish  can  agree 
My  Pilgrim  should  familiar  with  them  be. 

''Tis  in  New-England  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  loving  Countenance, 
As  to  be  Tr'mid,  new-Cloth* d,  and  Declfd  with  Gems, 
That  it  may  shew  its  Features,  and  its  limbs, 
Yet  more,  so  comely  doth  my  Pilgrim  walk. 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  Sing  and  talk. 


202        THE   AUTHORS   WAY   OF   SENDING 

If  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear 
My  Pilgrim  knows  no  ground  of  shame,  or  fear ; 
City,  and  Country  will  him  entertain, 
With   Welcome  Pilgrim.     Yea,  they  cant  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by, 
Or  sheivs  his  head  in  any  Company. 

Brave  Galants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  love, 
Esteem  it  much,  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk,  yea,  with  delight, 
Say  my  Lark's-leg  is  better  than  a  Kite. 

Young  Ladies,  and  young  Gentlewomen  too, 
Do  no  small  kindness  to  my  Pilgrim  shew ; 
Their  Cabinets,  their  Bosoms,  and  their  Hearts 
My  Pilgrim  has,  ^  cause  lie  to  them  imparts, 
His  pretty  riddles,  in  such  wholesome  strains 
As  yields  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 
Of  reading.     Yea,  I  think  I  may  be  bold 
To  say  some  prize  him  far  above  their  Gold. 

The  very  Children  that  do  walk  the  street, 
If  they  do  but  my  Holy  Pilgrim  meet, 
Salute  him  will,  will  wish  him  well,  and  say, 
He  is  the  only  Stripling  of  the  Day. 

They  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
What  they  have  heard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  Pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 

Yea,  some  who  did  not  love  him  at  the  first, 
But  calTd  him  Fool,  and  Noddy,  say  they  must 
Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend, 
And  to  those  whom  they  love,  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore  my  Second  Part,  thou  needst  not  be 
Afraid  to  shew  thy  Head:  none  can  hurt  thee, 
That  wish  but  well  to  him,  that  went  before; 
thou  comst  after  with  a  second  store 


FORTH    HIS   SECOND    PART  203 

t  Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable., 

I  For  Young,  for  Old,  for  Staggering  and  for  Stable.  I 

3.  Object. 

But  some  there  be  that  say,  he  laughs  too  loud  ; 
And  some  do  say  his  Head  is  in  a  Cloud. 
Some  say,  his  Words  and  Stories  are  so  dark, 
They  know  not  how,  by  them,  to  find  his  mark. 

Answer. 

One  may  (I  think)  say,  both  his  laughs  and  cries, 
May  well  be  guess"t  at  by  his  watry  Eyes. 
Some  things  are  of  that  Nature  as  to  make 
One^s  f ancle  Clieckle  while  his  Heart  doth  alee: 
When  Jacob  saw  his  Rachel  with  the  Sheep, 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

Whereas  some  say  a  Cloud  is  in  his  Head, 
That  doth-  but  shew  liow   Wisdom's  covered 
With  its  own  mantles :  and  to  stir  the  mind 
To  a  search  after  what  it  fain  would  find, 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  in  words  obscure, 
Do  but  the  Godly  mind  the  more  allure, 
To  study  what  those  Sayings  should  contain, 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  Cloudy  strain. 

I  also  know,  a  dark  Similitude 
Will  on  the  Fancie  more  itself  intrude, 
And  will  stick  faster  in  the  Heart  and  Head, 
Than  things  from  Similes  not  borrowed. 

Wherefore,  my  Book,  let  no  discouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels.     Behold,  thou  art  sent 
To  Friends  not  foes :  to  Friends  that  will  give  place 
To  thee,  thy  Pilgrims  and  thy  words  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  first  Pilgrim  left  concealed, 
Thou  my  brave  Second  Pilgrim,  hast  reveal\l; 


204        THE   AUTHORS   WAY   OF  SENDING 

What  Christian  left  lockt  up  and  went  his  way. 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  Key. 

4.  Object. 

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

Answer. 

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

Some  love  no  Cheese,  some  love  no  Fish,  and  some 
Love  not  their  Friends,  nor  their  own  House  or  Home  ,• 
Some  start  at  Pig,  slight  Chicken,  love  not  Fowl, 
More  than  they  love  a  Cuckow  or  an  Owl: 
Leave  such,  my  Christiana,  to  their  choice, 
And  seek  those,  who  to  find  thee  will  rejoyce ; 
By  no  means  strive,  but  in  all  humble  wise, 
Present  thee  to  them  in  thy  Pilgrim's  guise. 

Go  then,  my  little  Book,  and  shew  to  all 
That  entertain,  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall, 
What  thou  slialt  keep  close,  shut  up  from  the  rest, 
And  wish  what  thou  shalt  shew  them  may  be  Nest 
To  them  for  good,  may  make  them  chuse  to  be 
Pilgrims,  better  by  far,  than  thee  or  me. 

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


FORTH   HIS   SECOND   PART  205 

Go  also  tell  them  who,  and  what  they  be, 
That  now  do  go  on  Pilgrimage  with  thee ; 
Say,  heres  my  neighbor  Mercy,  she  is  one, 
That  has  long-time  with  me  a  Pilgrim  gone: 
Come  see  her  in  her  Virgin  Face,  and  learn 
''Twixt  Idle  ones  and  Pilgrims  to  discern. 
Yea  let  young  Damsels  learn  of  her  to  prize, 
The  world  which  is  to  come,  in  any  wise. 
When  little  Tripping  Maidens  follow  God, 
And  leave  old  doting  Sinners  to  his  Rod ; 
''Tis  like  those  Days  wherein  the  young  ones  cried 
Hosannah  to  whom  old  ones  did  deride. 

Next  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  who  you  found 
With  his  white  hairs  treading'  the  Pilgrim?  s  ground; 
Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was, 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bare  his  Cross: 
Perhaps  with  some  gray  Head  this  may  prevail, 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  Love,  and  Sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also  how  Master  Fearing  went 
On  Pilgrimage,  and  how  the  time  he  spent 
In  Solitariness,  with  Fears  and  Cries, 
And  how  at  last,  he  won  the  Joyful  Prize. 
He  was  a  good  Man,  though  much  down  in  Spirit, 
He  is  a  good  Man,  and  doth  Life  inherit. 

Tell  them  of  Master  Feeblemind  also, 
Who,  not  before,  but  still  behind  would  go  ; 
Shew  them  also  how  he  had  like  been  slain, 
And  how  one  Great-Heart  did  his  life  regain: 
This  man  was  true  of  Heart,  tlio1  weak  in  grace, 
One  might  true  Godliness  read  in  his  Face. 

Then  tell  them  of  Master  Ready-to-halt, 
A   Man  with  Crutches,  but  much  without  fault : 
Tell  them  how  Master  Feeble-Mind  and  he 
Did  love,  and  in  Opinions  much  agree. 


206  THE   AUTHORS   WAY,  ETC. 

And  let  all  know,  tlio1  weakness  was  their  chance 
Yet  sometimes  one  could  Sing,  the  other  Dance. 

Forget  not  Master  Valiant- for-the-Truth, 
That  Man  of  courage,  tho"  a  very  Youth. 
Tell  every  one  his  Spirit  was  so  stout, 
No  Man  could  ever  make  him  face  about ; 
And  how  Great-Heart  and  he  could  not  forbear, 
But  put  down  Doubting  Castle,  slay  Despair. 

Overlook  not  Master  Despondancie, 
Nor  Much-afraid  his  Daughter,  tho"1  the?/  lie 
Under  such  Mantles  as  may  make  them  look 
( With  some)  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 
They  softly  went,  but  sure,  and  at  the  end, 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  Pilgrims  was  their  Friend. 
When  thou  hast  told  the   World  of  all  these  things, 
Then  turn  about,  my  Book,  and  touch  these  strings ; 
Which,  if  but  touched  will  such  Musick  make, 
They'll  make  a  Cripple  dance,  a  Giant  quake. 

These  Riddles  that  lie  couclit  within  thy  breast, 
Freely  propound,  expound:  and  for  the  rest 
Of  thy  mysterious  lines,  let  them  remain 
For  those  whose  nimble  Fancies  shall  them  gain. 

Now  may  this  little  Book  a  blessing  be, 
To  those  that  love  this  little  Book  and  me ; 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say, 
His  money  is  but  lost  or  thrown  away: 
Yea  may  this  Second  Pilgrim  yield  that  Fruit 
As  may  with  each  good  Pilgrim^  f ancle  suit ; 
And  may  it  perswade  some  that  go  astray, 
To  turn  their  Foot  and  Heart  to  the  right  way. 

Is  the  Hearty  Prayer 

of  the  Author, 

JOHN  13UNYAN. 


THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS : 

IN  THE   SIMILITUDE   OF   A 

DREAM 

THE   SECOND   PART 

/COURTEOUS  Companions,  some-time  since,  to  tell  you  my 
\-J  Dream  that  I  had  of  Christian  the  Pilgrim,  and  of  his 
dangerous  Journey  toward  the  Ccelestial  Country,  was  pleasant 
to  me,  and  profitable  to  you.  I  told  you  then  also  what 
I  saw  concerning  his  Wife  and  Children^  and  how  unwilling 
they  were  to  go  with  him  on  Pilgrimage ;  insomuch  that  he 
was  forced  to  go  on  his  Progress  without  them,  for  he  durst 
not  run  the  danger  of  that  destruction  which  he  feared  would 
come  by  staying  with  them,  in  the  City  of  Destruction. 
Wherefore  as  I  then  shewed  you,  he  left  them  and  departed. 

Now  it  hath  so  happened,  thorough  the  Multiplicity  of 
Business,  that  I  have  been  much  hindred  and  kept  back  from 
my  wonted  Travels  into  those  Parts  whence  he  went,  and  so 
could  not  till  now  obtain  an  opportunity  to  make  further 
enquiry  after  whom  he  left  behind,  that  I  might  give  you  an 
account  of  them.  But  having  had  some  concerns  that  way 
of  late,  I  went  down  again  thitherward.  Now  having  taken 
up  my  Lodgings  in  a  Wood  about  a  mile  off  the  place,  as 
I  slept  I  dreamed  again. 

And  as  I  was  in  my  Dream,  behold,  an  aged  Gentleman 
came  by  where  I  lay  ;  and  because  he  was  to  go  some  part 
of  the  way  that  I  was  travelling,  methought  I  got  up  and 


208  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

went  with  him.  So  as  we  walked,  and  as  Travellers  usually 
do,  I  was  as  if  we  fell  into  discourse,  and  our  talk  happened 
to  be  about  Christian  and  his  Travels  :  For  thus  I  began 
with  the  old  man. 

Sir,  said  I,  what  Town  is  that  there  below,  that  lieth  on  the 
left  hand  of  our  way  ? 

Then  said  Mr.  Sagacity,  for  that  was  his  name,  It  is  the 
City  of  Destruction,  a  populous  place,  but  possessed  with  a 
very  ill  conditioned  and  idle  sort  of  People. 

/  thought  that  was  that  City,  quoth  I,  /  went  once  myself 
through  that  Town,  and  therefore  know  that  this  report  you 
give  of  it,  is  true. 

SAG.  Too  true,  I  wish  I  could  speak  truth  in  speaking 
better  of  them  that  dwell  therein. 

Well  Sir,  quoth  I,  then  I  perceive  you  to  be  a  well  meaning 
man  :  and  so  one  that  takes  pleasure  to  hear  and  tell  of  that 
which  is  good  ;  pray  did  you  never  hear  what  happened  to  a 
man  some  time  ago  in  this  Town  (whose  name  was  Christian) 
that  went  on  Pilgrimage  up  towards  the  higher  Regions  ? 

SAG.  Hear  of  him  !  Ay,  and  I  also  heard  of  the  Molesta- 
tions, Troubles,  Wars,  Captivities,  Cries,  Groans,  Frights 
and  Fears  that  he  met  with,  and  had  in  his  Journey.  Besides, 
I  must  tell  you,  all  our  Country  rings  of  him ;  there  are  but 
few  Houses  that  have  heard  of  him  and  his  doings,  but  have 
sought  after  and  got  the  Records  of  his  Pilgrimage ;  yea, 
I  think  I  may  say,  that  that  his  hazardous  Journey,  has  got 
Christians  are  a  many  well-wishers  to  his  ways.  For  though 

ivell  spolcen  of  -,  -IT  r-»      7  •  •> 

when  gone :  thd1  when  he  was  here,  he  was  r  ooi  in  every  man  s 
caU^d  Fools  mouth,  yet  now  he  is  gone,  he  is  highly  com- 

wJiile  they  are  '  *  •* 

here.  mended  of  all.     For,  "'tis  said  he  lives  bravely 

where  he  is  :  yea  many  of  them,  that  are  resolved  never  to 
run  his  hazards,  yet  have  their  mouths  water  at  his  gains. 

They  may,  quoth  I,  well  think,  if  they  think  any  thing  that 
is  true,  that  he  liveth  well  where  he  is,  for  he  now  lives  at  and 


CHRISTIAN   WELL  SPOKEN   OF  209 

in  the  Fountain  of  Life ',  and  has  what  lie  lias  without  labour 
and  sorrow,  for  there  is  no  grief  mixed  therewith. 

SAG.  Talk  !  The  people  talk  strangely  about  him.  Some 
say,  that  he  now  walks  in  White.,  that  he  has  a  Chain  of  Gold 
about  his  Neck,  that  he  has  a  Crown  of  Gold,  beset  with 
Pearls,  upon  his  head.  Others  say  that  the  shining  ones  that 
sometimes  shewed  themselves  to  him  in  his  Journey,  are 
become  his  Companions,  and  that  he  is  as  familiar  with  them 
in  the  place  where  he  is,  as  here  one  Neighbor  is  with 
another.  Besides  "'tis  confidently  affirmed  concerning  him, 
that  the  King  of  the  place  where  he  is,  has  bestowed  upon 
him  already  a  very  rich  and  pleasant  Dwelling  at  Court,  and 
that  he  every  day  eateth  and  drinketh,  and  walketh,  and 
talketh  with  him,  and  receiveth  of  the  smiles  and  favours  of 
him  that  is  Judge  of  all  there.  Moreover,  it  is  expected  of 
some  that  his  Prince,  the  Lord  of  that  Country,  will  shortly 
come  into  these  parts,  and  will  know  the.  reason,  if  they  can 
give  any,  why  his  Neighbors  set  so  little  by  him,  and  had 
him  so  much  in  derision  when  they  perceived  that  he  would 
be  a  Pilgrim. 

For  they  say,  that  now  he  is  so  in  the  affections  of  his 
Prince,  and  that  his  Soveraign  is  so  much  con-     Christians 
cerned  with  the  Indignities  that  were  cast  upon     SS/^ 
Christian  when  he  became  a  Pilgrim,  that  he     Part- 
will  look  upon  all  as  if  done  unto  himself;   and  no  marvel, 
for  'twas  for  the  love  that  he  had  to  his  Prince,  that  he 
ventured  as  he  did. 

/  dare  say,  quoth  I,  /  am  glad  on  it ;  I  am  glad  for  the  poor 
mans  sake,  for  that  now  he  has  rest  from  his  labour,  and  for 
that  he  now  reaj)eth  the  benejit  of  his  Tears  with  Joy  :  and  for 
that  he  has  got  beyond  the  Gun-shot  of  his  Enemies,  and  is  out 
of  the  reach  of  them  that  hate  him.  I  also  am  glad  for  that  a 
rumour  of  these  things  is  noised  abroad  in  this  Country.  Who 
can  tell  but  that  it  may  work  some  good  effect  on  some  that  are 


210  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

left  behind?  But,  pray  Sir,  while  it  is  fresh  in  my  mind,  do 
you  hear  anything  of  his  Wife  and  Children  ?  poor  hearts, 
I  wonder  in  my  mind  what  they  do  ! 

SAG.  Who  !  Christiana,  and  her  Sons  !  They  are  like  to  do 
Good  Tidings  as  well  as  did  Christian  himself,  for  though  they 
Wif^and1'  a^  pla/d  the  Fool  at  the  first,  and  would  by  no 
Children.  means  be  perswaded  by  either  the  tears  or  the 

entreaties  of  Christian,  yet  second  thoughts  have  wrought 
wonderfully  with  them ;  so  they  have  packt  up  and  are  also 
gone  after  him. 

Better  and  better,  quoth  I.  But  what  I  Wife  and  Children 
and  all  ? 

SAG.  'Tis  true,  I  can  give  you  an  account  of  the  matter, 
for  I  was  upon  the  spot  at  the  instant,  and  was  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  whole  affair. 

Then,  said  I,  a  man  it  seems  may  report  it  for  a  truth  ? 

SAG.  You  need  not  fear  to  affirm  it,  I  mean  that  they  are 
all  gone  on  Pilgrimage,  both  the  good  Woman  and  her  four 
Boys,  And  being  we  are,  as  I  perceive,  going  some  consider- 
able way  together,  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  the  whole  of 
the  matter. 

This  Christiana  (for  that  was  her  name  from  the  day  that 
she  with  her  Children  betook  themselves  to  a  Pilgrim's  life,) 
i part, page  190.  after  her  Husband  was  gone  over  the  River, 
and  she  could  hear  of  him  no  more,  her  thoughts  began  to 
work  in  her  mind.  First,  for  that  she  had  lost  her  Hus- 
band, and  for  that  the  loving  bond  of  that  Relation  was 
utterly  broken  betwixt  them.  For  you  know,  said  he  to  me, 
nature  can  do  no  less  but  entertain  the  living  with  many  a 
heavy  Cogitation  in  the  remembrance  of  the  loss  of  loving 
Mark  this  you  Relations,  This  therefore  of  her  Husband  did 

C08t  her    mally  a  Tcar'       Bllt    tllis    WaS    llot    all> 

for  Christiana  did  also  br<nn  to  consider  with 

O 

herself,    whether    her    unbecoming    behaviour    towards    her 


CHRISTIANAS   DREAM 

Husband,  was  not  one  cause  that  she  saw  him  no  more,  and 
that  in  such  sort  lie  was  taken  away  from  her.  And  upon  this, 
came  into  her  mind  by  swarms,  all  her  unkind,  unnatural,  and 
ungodly  Carriages  to  her  dear  Friend  :  which  also  clogged  her 
Conscience,  and  did  load  her  with  guilt.  She  was  moreover 
much  broken  with  calling  to  remembrance  the  restless  Groans, 
brinish  Tears  and  self-bemoanings  of  her  Husband,  and  how 
she  did  harden  her  heart  against  all  his  entreaties,  and  loving 
perswasions  (of  her  and  her  Sons)  to  go  with  him,  yea,  there 
was  not  any  thing  that  Christian  either  said  to  her,  or  did 
before  her,  all  the  while  that  his  burden  did  hang  on  his  back, 
but  it  returned  upon  her  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  rent 
the  Caul  of  her  Heart  in  sunder.  Specially  that  bitter  out- 
cry of  his,  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved,,  did  i  part,  page  w. 
ring  in  her  ears  most  dolefully. 

Then  said  she  to  her  Children,  Sons,  we  are  all  undone. 
I  have  sinned  away  your  Father,  and  he  is  gone  ;  he  would 
have  had  us  with  him ;  but  I  would  not  go  myself,  I  also 
have  hindred  you  of  Life.  With  that  the  boys  fell  all  into 
Tears,  and  cried  out  to  go  after  their  Father.  Oh  !  Said 
Christiana,  that  it  had  been  but  our  lot  to  go  with  him, 
then  had  it  fared  well  with  us  beyond  what  'tis  like  to  do 
now.  For  tho1  I  formerly  foolishly  imagined  concerning  the 
troubles  of  your  Father,  that  they  proceeded  of  a  foolish 
Fancy  that  he  had,  or  for  that  he  was  overrun  with  Melan- 
choly Humours  ;  yet  now  'twill  not  out  of  my  mind,  but  that 
they  sprang  from  another  cause,  to  wit,  for  that  the  .Light  of 
Light  was  given  him,  by  the  help  of  which,  as  I  perceive,  he 
has  escaped  the  Snares  of  Death.  Then  they  all  wept  again, 
and  cryed  out :  Oh,  Wo  worth  the  day. 

The  next  night,  Christiana  had  a  Dream,  and  behold  she 
saw  as  if  a  broad  Parchment  was  opened    be-     Christiana's 
fore  her  in   which    were   recorded    the   sum  of     i>™am. 
her  ways,  and  the  times,  as  she  thought,  lookt   very  black 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

upon  her.     Then  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her  sleep,  Lord  have 
Mercy  upon  me  a  Sinner,  and  the  little  Children  heard  her. 
After  this  she  thought  she  saw  two  very  ill-favoured  ones 
standing   by  her  Bed-side,  and   saying,   What 

Mark  this,  tins  is  J  . 

the  qnintesccnce  shall  iv  e  do  with  this  Woman?  For  she  cries 
out  for  Mercy  waking  and  sleeping:  If  she  be 
suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall  lose  her  as  we  have 
lost  her  Husband.  Wherefore  we  must  by  one  way  or  other, 
seek  to  take  her  off  from  the  thoughts  of  what  shall  be 
hereafter:  else  all  the  World  cannot  help  it,  but  she  will 
become  a  Pilgrim. 

Now  she  awoke  in  a  great  Sweat  ;   also  a  trembling  was 
upon  her,  but  after  a  while  she  fell  to  sleeping  again.     And 

then  she  thought  she  saw  Christian  her  Husband 
Help  against  ° 

Discourage-  in  a  place  of  Bliss  among  many  Immortals, 
with  an  Harp  in  his  Hand,  standing  and 
playing  upon  it  before  one  that  sate  on  a  Throne  with  a 
Rainbow  about  his  Head.  She  saw  also  as  if  he  bowed 
his  Head  with  his  Face  to  the  Pav'd-work  that  was  under 
the  Prince's  Feet,  saying,  /  heartily  thank  my  Lord  and 
King  for  bringing  of  me  into  this  Place.  Then  shouted  a 
company  of  them  that  stood  round  about,  and  harped  with 
their  Harps  :  but  no  man  living  could  tell  what  they  said, 
but  Christian  and  his  Companions. 

Next  morning  when  she  was  up,  and  prayed  to  God,  and 
talked  with  her  Children  a  while,  one  knocked  hard  at  the 
door  ;  to  whom  she  spake  out  saying,  If  thou  contest  in  Gods 
name,  come  in.  So  he  said  Amen^  and  opened  the  Door,  and 
Convictions  saluted  her  with  Peace  be  to  this  House.  The 
seconded  with  which  when  he  had  done,  he  said,  Christiana, 

fresh  Tidings  of  2      rri 

Gods  readiness      knowest   thou    wherefore  1   am    comer     Inen 


to  Pardon.  she  blusht  &^  trembied,  also  her  heart  began 

to  wax  warm  with  desires  to  know  whence  he  came,  and  what 
was  his  Errand  to  her.     So  he  said  unto  her;    my  name  is 


V\\  '    I  Htfanv  ;/////•/  •"*  KMHr/* 


CHRISTIANA  INSTRUCTED  BY  SECRET. 


INSTRUCTION   TO   CHRISTIANA  215 

Secret,  I  dwell  with  those  that  are  high.  It  is  talked  of 
where  I  dwell,  as  if  thou  had'st  a  desire  to  go  thither  :  also 
there  is  a  report  that  thou  art  aware  of  the  evil  thou  hast 
formerly  done  to  thy  Husband  in  hardening  of  thy  Heart 
against  his  way,  and  in  keeping  of  these  thy  Babes  in  their 
Ignorance.  Christiana,  the  merciful  one  has  sent  me  to  tell 
thee  that  he  is  a  God  ready  to  forgive,  and  that  he  taketh 
delight  to  multiply  to  pardon  offences.  He  also  would  have 
thee  know  that  he  inviteth  thee  to  come  into  his  presence,  to 
his  Table,  and  that  he  will  feed  thee  with  the  Fat  of  his 
House,  and  with  the  Heritage  of  Jacob  thy  Father. 

There  is  Christian,  thy  Husband  that  was,  with  Legions 
more  his  Companions,  ever  beholding  that  face  that  doth 
minister  Life  to  beholders  :  and  they  will  be  all  glad  when 
they  shall  hear  the  sound  of  thy  feet  step  over  thy  Father's 
Threshold. 

Christiana  at  this  was  greatly  abashed  in  herself,  and  bowing 
her  head  to  the  ground,  this  Visitor  proceeded  and  said, 
Christiana!  Here  is  also  a  Letter  for  thee  which  I  have 
brought  from  thy  Husband's  King.  So  she  took  it  and 
opened  it,  but  it  smelt  after  the  manner  of  the  best  Perfume, 
also  it  was  written  in  Letters  of  Gold.  The  contents  of  the 
Letter  was,  That  the  King  would  have  her  do  as  did  Christian 
her  Husband  ;  for  that  was  the  way  to  come  to  his  City,  and 
to  dwell  in  his  Presence  with  Joy,  for  ever.  At  Christiana 


this  the  good  Woman  was   overcome.     So  she  vmte  overcome. 

cried    out  to   her    Visitor,  Sir,   will  you  carry  me  and  my 

Children  with  you,   that  we  also  may  go  and  worship  this 
King. 

Then  said  the  Visitor,  Christiana  !     The  bitter  is  before  the 

«/ 

sweet  :  Thou  must  through  Troubles,  as  did  he     Further 
that  went  before  thee,  enter  this  Ccelestial  City,     instruction  to 
Wherefore  I  advise  thee,  to  do  as  did  Christian 
thy  Husband  :    go    to   the    Wicket    Gate   yonder,    over    the 


216  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Plain,  for  that  stands  in  the  head  of  the  way  up  which 
thou  must  go,  and  I  wish  thee  all  good  speed.  Also 
I  advise  that  thou  put  this  Letter  in  thy  Bosom.  That 
thou  read  therein  to  thyself  and  to  thy  Children,  until 
you  have  got  it  by  root-of- Heart.  For  it  is  one  of  the  Songs 
that  thou  must  Sing  while  thou  art  in  this  House  of  thy 
Pilgrimage.  Also  this  thou  must  deliver  in  at  the  further 
Gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  this  Old  Gentleman,  as  he 
told  me  this  Story,  did  himself  seem  to  be  greatly  affected 
Chri  tiam  therewith.  He  moreover  proceeded  and  said, 

prays  well  for  So  Christiana  called  her  Sons  together,  and 
began  thus  to  Address  herself  unto  them. 
My  Sons,  I  have  as  you  may  perceive,  been  of  late  under 
much  exercise  in  my  Soul  about  the  Death  of  your  Father ; 
not  for  that  I  doubt  at  all  of  his  Happiness ;  for  I  am 
satisfied  now  that  he  is  well.  I  have  also  been  much 
affected  with  the  thoughts  of  mine  own  State  and  yours, 
which  I  verily  believe  is  by  nature  miserable.  My  Carriages 
also  to  your  Father  in  his  distress,  is  a  great  load  to  my 
Conscience.  For  I  hardened  both  my  own  heart  and  yours 
against  him,  and  refused  to  go  with  him  on  Pilgrimage. 

The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now  kill  me  out-right ; 
but  that  for  a  Dream  which  I  had  last  night,  and  but  that 
for  the  encouragement  that  this  Stranger  has  given  me  this 
Morning.  Come  my  Children,  let  us  pack  up,  and  be  gone 
to  the  Gate  that  leads  to  the  Ccelestial  Country,  that  we  may 
see  your  Father,  and  be  with  him,  and  his  Companions  in 
Peace,  according  to  the  Laws  of  that  Land. 

Then  did  her  Children  burst  into  Tears  for  Joy  that  the 
Heart  of  their  Mother  was  so  inclined.  So  their  Visitor  bid 
them  farewell :  and  they  began  to  prepare  to  set  out  for 
their  Journey. 

But  while  they  were  thus  about  to  be  gone,  two  of  the 


CHRISTIANAS   NEW  LANGUAGE 

women  that  were  Christianas  Neighbors,  came  up  to  her 
House   and  knocked  at  her  door,     To   whom     Christiana's 
she  said  as  before,  If  you  come  in  Gotfs  name,     n™n^Z 
come  in.     At  this  the  Women  were  stun'd,  for     neighbours. 
this  kind  of  Language,  they  used  not  to  hear,  or  to  perceive 
to  drop  from  the  Lips  of  Christiana.     Yet  they  came  in  ;  but 
behold  they  found  the  good  Woman  a  preparing  to  be  gone 
from  her  House. 

So  they  began   and  said,   Neighbor,  pray  what   is  your 
meaning  by  this. 

Christiana  answered  and  said  to  the  eldest  of  them  whose 
name  was  Mrs.    Timorous,   I  am  preparing  for  a  Journey. 
(This  Timorous  was  daughter  to  him  that  met     t     H       e 
Christian  upon  the  Hill  Difficulty  :  and  would     55. 
a  had  him  gone  back  for  fear  of  the  Lyons.) 

TIMOROUS.  For  what  Journey  I  pray  you  ? 

CHRIS.  Even  to  go  after  my  good  Husband  ;  and  with  that 
she  fell  a  weeping. 

TIM.    I  hope  not  so,  good  Neighbor,  pray  for     Timorous 
your  poor  Children's  sakes,  do  not  so  unwomanly 


cast  away  yourself.  with  Mercy, 

CHRIS.  Nay,  my  Children  shall  go  with  me  ;     Neighbors. 
not  one  of  them  is  willing  to  stay  behind. 

TIM.  I  wonder  in  my  very  heart,  what,  or  who  has  brought 
you  into  this  mind. 

CHRIS.  Oh,  Neighbor,  knew  you  but  as  much  as  I  do, 
I  doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go  with  me. 

TIM.  Prithee  what  new  knowledge  hast  thou  got  that  so 
worketh  off  thy  mind  from  thy  Friends,  and  that  tempteth  thee 
to  go  nobody  knows  where  ? 

CHRIS.  Then  Christiana  reply'd,  I  have  been  sorely  afflicted 
since  my  Husband's  departure   from  me  ;    but     Death. 
specially  since  he  went    over  the   River.     But   that    which 
troubleth  me  most,   is  my  churlish  carriages  to  him   when 


218  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

lie  was  under  his  distress.  Besides,  I  am  now,  as  he  was 
then ;  nothing  will  serve  me  but  going  on  Pilgrimage. 
I  was  a  dreaming  last  night  that  I  saw  him.  O  that 
my  Soul  was  with  him.  He  dwelleth  in  the  presence  of 
the  King  of  the  Country,  he  sits  and  eats  with  him 
at  his  Table,  he  is  become  a  Companion  of  Immortals, 
and  has  a  House  now  given  him  to  dwell  in,  to  which, 
the  best  Palaces  on  Earth,  if  compared,  seem  to  me  to 
be  but  as  a  Dunghill.  The  Prince  of  the  Place  has  also 
sent  for  me  with  promise  of  entertainment  if  I  shall  come  to 
him  ;  his  messenger  was  here  even  now,  and  has  brought  me 
a  Letter,  which  invites  me  to  come.  And  with  that  she 
pluck'd  out  her  Letter,  and  read  it,  and  said  to  them,  what 
now  will  you  say  to  this  ? 

TIM.  Oh  the  madness  that  has  possessed  thee  and  thy 
Husband,  to  run  yourselves  itpon  such  difficulties !  You  have 
heard,  I  am  sure,  what  your  Husband  did  meet  with,  even  in 
a  manner  at  the  Jlrst  step,  that  he  took  on  his  way,  as  our 
i part, page  13-  Neighbour  Obstinate  can  yet  testlfie;  for  he 
went  along  with  him,  yea  and  Pliable  too  iint'd 
they,  like  wise  men,  were  afraid  to  go  any  further.  We 
also  heard  over  and  above,  how  he  met  with  the  Lions, 
ApoUijon,  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  many  other  things. 
Nor  Is  the  danger  that  he  met  with  at  Vanity  fair  to  be 
Me  reasonings  forgotten  by  thee.  For  If  he,  tlw  a  man,  was 

y»  j  J  -/7  / 

so  hard  put  to  It,  what  canst  thou,  being1  but 
a  poor  Woman,  do  ?  Consider  also  that  these  four  sweet 
Babes  are  thy  Children,  thy  Flesh  and  thy  Bones.  Wherefore, 
though  thou  shouldest  be  so  rash  as  to  cast  away  thyself: 
Yet  for  the  sake  of  the  Fruit  of  thy  llody,  keep  thou  at 
home. 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  tempt  me  not,  my  Neighbor : 
1  have  now  a  price  put  into  mine  hand  to  get  gain,  and 
1  should  be  a  Fool  of  the  greatest  size,  if  I  should  have  no 


TIMOROUS   REVILES   CHRISTIANA          219 

heart  to  strike  in  with  the  opportunity.  And  for  that  you 
tell  me  of  all  these  Troubles  that  I  am  like  to  meet  with 
in  the  way,  they  are  so  far  off  from  being  to  me  a  discourage- 
ment, that  they  shew  I  am  in  the  right.  The 

J  A  pertinent 

bitter  must  come  before  the  sweet :,  and  that  also     reply  to  fleshly 

will  make  the  sweet  the  sweeter.     Wherefore 

since   you   came    not    to    my   House  in   GocTs   name,    as    I 

.said,  I    pray    you    to    be    gone,    and    not    to    disquiet   me 

farther. 

Then  Timorous  also  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her  Fellow, 
come  Neighbor  Mercy.,  let's  leave  her  in  her  own  hands,  since 
she  scorns  our  Counsel  and  Company.  But  Mercy  was  at 
a  stand,  and  could  not  so  readily  comply  with  her  Neighbor : 
and  that  for  a  two-fold  reason.  First,  her 

Mercy  s  Bowels 

Bowels  yearned  over  Christiana :    so  she  said     yearn  over 

..i.       i  Tf-rf  -ii  •  n  11  Christiana, 

with  in  herself,  It  my  neighbor  will  needs  be 
gone,  I  will  go  a  little  way  with  her,  and  help  her. 
Secondly,  her  Bowels  yearned  over  her  own  Soul,  (for 
what  Christiana  had  said,  had  taken  some  hold  upon  her 
mind.)  Wherefore  she  said  within  herself  again,  I  will  yet 
have  more  talk  with  this  Christiana,  and  if  I  find  Truth  and 
Life  in  what  she  shall  say,  myself  with  my  Heart  shall  also 
go  with  her.  Wherefore  Mercy  began  thus  to  reply  to  her 
Neighbor  Timorous. 

MERCY.  Neighbor,   I   did  indeed  come    with    you    to    see 
Christiana  this  Morning,  and  since  she  is,  as  you     Timorous 
see,  a  taking  of  her  last  farewell  of  her  Country,     f^° 
I  think  to  walk  this  Sunshine  Morning,  a  little     cleaves  to  her. 
way  with  her  to  help  her  on  the  way.     But  she  told  her  not 
of  her  second  Reason,  but  kept  that  to  herself. 

TIM.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a  fooling  too : 
but  take  heed  in  time,  and  be  wise  :  while  we  are  out  of 
danger  we  are  out;  but  when  we  are  in,  we  are  in.  So 
Mrs,  Timorous  returned  to  her  House,  and  Christiana  betook 

18 


220  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

herself  to  her  Journey.  But  when  Timorous  was  got  home 
Timorous  to  her  House,  she  sends  for  some  of  her  Neigh- 

aFrienaltSiJilat  bors,  to  wit,  Mrs.  Bats-eyes,  Mrs.  Inconsiderate, 
the  good  Mrs.  Liffht-mind  and  Mrs.  Know-nothing.  So 

Christiana  ° 

intend*  to  do.  when  they  were  come  to  her  House,  she  falls 
to  telling  of  the  story  of  Christiana,  and  of  her  intended 
Journey.  And  thus  she  began  her  Tale. 

TIM.  Neighbors,  having  had  little  to  do  this  morning, 
I  went  to  give  Christiana  a  visit,  and  when  I  came  at  the 
door,  I  knocked,  as  you  know  'tis  our  Custom.  And  she 
answered,  If  you  come  in  GocVs  name,  come  in.  So  in  I  went, 
thinking  all  was  well.  But  when  I  came  in,  I  found  her  pre- 
paring herself  to  depart  the  Town,  she  and  also  her  Children. 
So  I  asked  her  what  was  her  meaning  by  that,  and  she  told 
me  in  short,  that  she  was  now  of  a  mind  to  go  on  Pilgrimage, 
as  did  her  Husband.  She  told  me  also  a  Dream  that  she  had, 
and  how  the  King  of  the  Country  where  her  Husband  was, 
had  sent  her  an  inviting  Letter  to  come  thither. 
TTrs.  Knuic*  Then  said  Mrs.  Know-nothing,  and  ichat  do 

nothing. 


TIM.  Ay,  go  she  will,  what  ever  come  on't  ;  and  methinks 
I  know  it  by  this,  for  that  which  was  my  great  Argument  to 
perswade  her  to  stay  at  home,  (to  wit,  the  Troubles  she  was 
like  to  meet  with  in  the  way)  is  one  great  Argument  with  her 
to  put  her  forward  on  her  Journey.  For  she  told  me  in  so 
many  words,  The  bitter  goes  before  the  sweet.  Yea,  and  for 
as  much  as  it  so  doth,  it  makes  the  sweet  the  sweeter. 

MRS.  BATS-EYES.  Oh  this  blind  and  foolish  Woman,  said 
Mrs.  Bats-eyes.  she,  will  she  not  take  warning  by  her  Hus- 
band's Afflictions  ?  For  my  part,  I  see  if  he  was  here  again 
he  would  rest  him  content  in  a  whole  Skin,  and  never  run 
so  many  hazards  for  nothing. 

Mrs.  incon-  Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  saving,  Away 

6idemte'.  with   such  Fantastical   Fools   from  'the   Town, 


MERCY   INCLINES   TO   GO 

a  good  riddance,  for  my  part,  I  say,  of  her.  Should  she 
stay  where  she  dwells,  and  retain  this  her  mind,  who  could 
live  quietly  by  her  ?  for  she  will  either  be  dumpish  or 
unneighborly,  or  talk  of  such  matters  as  no  wise  body  can 
abide.  Wherefore  for  my  part  I  shall  never  be  sorry  for 
her  departure,  let  her  go  and  let  better  come  in  her  room ; 
"'twas  never  a  good  World  since  these  whimsical  Fools  dwelt 
in  it. 

Then   Mrs.   Light-mind  added   as    followeth.     Come    put 
this  kind  of  Talk  away.     I  was  Yesterday  at     Mrg  L[  ht_ 
Madame  Wantons,  where  we  were  as  merry  as     mind,  Madam 
the  Maids.       For  who  do  you  think  should  be     that  had  like  to 
there,  but  I,  and  Mrs.  Love-the-fesh,  and  three    j^^JS^ 
or  four  more  with  Mr.  Lechery -,  Mrs.  Filth,  and     in  tune  past, 
some  others.     So   there    we   had    Musick    and 
dancing,  and  what  else  was  meet  to  fill  up  the  pleasure.     And 
I  dare  say  my  Lady  herself  is  an  admirably  well  bred  Gentle- 
woman, and  Mr.  Lechery  is  as  pretty  a  fellow. 

By  this  time  Christiana  was  got  on  her  way,  and  Merc?/ 
went  along  with  her.     So  as  they  went,  her  Children  being 

there  also,  Christiana  began  to  discourse.    And,     Discourse 
t  r  .j     .07    ...  T        i        ,  •,  •  betwixt  Mercy 

Mercy,  said  Llinstiana,  1  take  this  as  an  un-     and  good 

expected  favour,  that  thou  shouldest  set  foot     Christiana. 
out  of  Doors  with    me  to    accompany  me    a   little    in    my 
way. 

MERCY.    Then  said  young  Mercy  (for  she  was  but  young,) 

If  I  thought    it   would  be   to  purpose  to  go    With      Mercy  inclines 

you,    I   would   never  go    near  the   Town   any     t09°- 
more. 

CHRIS.  Well  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  cast  in  thy  Lot  with 
me.     I  well  know  what  will  be  the  end  of  our     Christiana, 
Pilgrimage,  my  Husband  is  where  he  would  not 
but  be,  for  all  the  Gold  in  the  Spanish  Mines,     with  her. 
Nor  shalt  thou  be  rejected,  tho'  thou  goest  but  upon   my 


222  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Invitation.  The  King  who  hath  sent  for  me  and  my  Children, 
is  one  that  delighteth  in  Mercy.  Besides,  if  thou  wilt,  I  will 
hire  thee,  and  thou  shalt  go  along  with  me  as  my  servant. 
Yet  we  will  have  all  things  in  common  betwixt  thee  and 
me  ;  only  go  along  with  me. 

MERCY.  But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I  also  shall 
Mercy  Doubts        be  entertained?     Had  I  this  hope.,  but  from  one 

of  acceptance.          ^  fan  ^   j  WQuld  mak(,  nQ  ^.j.  at   ^  but 

would  go  being  helped  by  him  that  can-help,  tho"1  the  way  was 
never  so  tedious. 

CHRIS.  Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee  what  thou  shalt 
Christiana  c^°  '->  g°  with  me  to  the  Wicket  Gate,  and  there  I 

allures  her  to  wi}}  further  enquire  for  thee.  and  if  there  thou 
me  Gate  which  .  .  , 

«•*  Christ,  and        shalt  not  meet  with  encouragement,  I  will   be 

ire  for6     content   that  thou   shalt  return  to  thy  place. 


I  also  will  pay  thee  for  thy  Kindness  which 
thou  shewest  to  me  and  my  Children  in  thy  accompanying  of 
us  in  our  way  as  thou  doest. 

MERCY.  Then  will  I  go  thither,  and  will  take  what  shall 
Mercy  prays.  follow,  and  the  Lord  grant  that  my  Lot  may 
there  fall  even  as  the  King  of  Heaven  shall  have  his  heart 
upon  me. 

Christiana,  then  was  glad  at  her  heart,  not  only  that  she 
Christiana  na(^  a  Companion,  but  also  for  that  she  had 

glad  of  Mercys  prevailed  with  this  poor  Maid  to  fall  in  love 

company.  .  x   . 

with  her  own  Salvation.  So  they  went  on 
together,  and  Mercy  began  to  weep.  Then  said  Christiana, 
wherefore  weepeth  my  Sister  so  ? 

MERCY.  Alas!    said  she,  who  can  but  lament  that  shall  but 

rightly  consider  what  a  State  and  Condition  mil 

Mercy  grieves  n  i     •  •  •        • 

for  her  carnal      poor  Relations  are  ?//,  that  yet   remain   in   our 
sinful    Town?    and  that  which  makes  my  grief 
the  more  heavy,  is  because  they  have  no  Instructor,  nor  any  to 
tell  them  what  is  to  come. 


THE   SLOUGH   OF   DISPOND 

CHRIS.  Bowels    becometh    Pilgrims.     And   thou    dost   for 
thy  Friends,  as  my  good  Christian  did  for  me     Christian's 
when  he  left  me  :  he  mourned  for  that  I  would     Prayers  were 

answered  for  his 

not  heed  nor  regard  him,  but  his  Lord  and  ours  Relations  after 
did  gather  up  his  Tears,  and  put  them  into  his 
Bottle,  and  now  both  I,  and  thou,  and  these  my  sweet 
Babes,  are  reaping  the  Fruit  and  benefit  of  them.  I  hope, 
Mercy ,  these  Tears  of  thine  will  not  be  lost,  for  the  truth  hath 
said;  That  they  that  sow  in  Tears  shall  reap  in  Joy,  in  singing. 
And  he  that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed., 
shall  doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  Sheaves 
with  him. 

Then  said  Mercy, 

Let  the  most  blessed  be  my  guide, 
If't  be  his  blessed  Will, 
Unto  his  Gate,  into  his  fold, 
Up  to  his  Holy  Hill. 

And  let  him  never  suffer  me, 
To  swerve,  or  turn  aside 
From  his  free  grace,  and  Holy  zvays, 
What  ere  shall  me  betide. 

And  let  him  gather  them  of  mine, 
That  I  have  left  behind. 
Lord  make  them  pray  they  may  be  thine, 
With  all  their  heart  and  mind. 

Now  my  old  Friend  proceeded  and  said,  But  when  Chris- 
tiana came  up  to  the  Slough  of  Dispond,  she  jpart  page  18 
began  to  be  at  a  stand :  For,  said  she,  This  is  J9> 20- 
the  place  in  which  my  dear  Husband  had  like  to  a  been 
smothered  with  Mud.  She  perceived  also,  that  notwithstand- 
ing the  Command  of  the  King  to  make  this  place  for 
Pilgrims  good,  yet  it  was  rather  worse  than  formerly.  So 


THE   TILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

I  asked  if  that  was  true  ?  Yes,  said  the  Old  Gentleman,  too 
true.  For  that  many  there  be  that  pretend  to  be  the 
King's  Labourers  ;  and  that  say  they  are  for  mending  the 
T)ieirou-n  King's  Highway,  that  bring  Dirt  and  Dung 

^onTinstwd'of  instead  of  Stones,  and  so  mar  instead  of  mend- 
the  word  of  life.  jng>  Here  Christiana  therefore  with  her  Boys, 
Mercy  the  did  make  a  stand  :  but  said  Mercy,  come  let 

boldest  at  the        us   venture,  only  let  us  be  wary.     Then   they 

Slough  of  -'  i  i  i  •/»• 

Dispond.  looked  well  to  the  Steps,  and  made  a  shift  to 

get  staggeringly  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  a  been  in,  and  that  not  once 
nor  twice.  Now  they  had  no  sooner  got  over,  but  they 
thought  they  heard  words  that  said  unto  them,  Blessed  is 
she  that  believeth,  for  there  shall  be  a  performance  of  the 
things  that  have  been  told  her  from  the  Lord. 

Then  they  went  on  again  ;  and  said  Mercy  to  Christiana, 
Had  I  as  good  ground  to  hope  for  a  loving  reception  at  the 
Wicket-Gate,  as  you,  I  think  no  Slough  of  Dispond  would 
discourage  me. 

Well,  said  the  other,  you  know  your  sore,  and  I  know  mine; 
and  good  friend,  we  shall  all  have  enough  evil  before  we  come 

o  o 

at  our  Journey's  end. 

For  can  it  be  imagined,  that  the  people  that  design  to 
attain  such  excellent  Glories  as  we  do,  and  that  are  so  envied 
that  Happiness  as  we  are  ;  but  that  we  shall  meet  with  what 
Fears  and  Scares,  with  what  troubles  and  afflictions  they  can 
possibly  assault  us  with,  that  hate  us  ? 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  Dream  out  my  Dream  by 
my  self.  Wherefore  me-thought  I  saw  Christiana,  and  Mercy 
Prayer  should  and  the  Boys  go  all  of  them  up  to  the  Gate. 
Consideration  To  which  when  they  were  come,  they  betook 
and  Fear:  as  themselves  to  a  short  debate,  about  how  they 

as  in  Faith 


. 

and  Hope.  must   manage   their  calling   at    the   Gate,  and 

what  should  be  said  to  him  that  did  open  to  them.    So  it  was 


AT   THE    GATE  225 

concluded,  since  Christiana  was  the  eldest,  that  she  should 
knock  for  entrance,  and  that  she  should  speak  to  him  that 
did  open,  for  the  rest.  So  Christiana  began  to  \  part,  page  $2. 
knock,  and  as  her  poor  Husband  did,  she  knocked,  and 
knocked  again.  But  instead  of  any  that  answered,  they  all 
thought  that  they  heard,  as  if  a  Dog  came  bark-  The  Dog,  the 
ing  upon  them.  A  Dog  and  a  great  one  too,  Emmy'to 
and  this  made  the  Women  and  Children  afraid.  Prayer. 
Nor  durst  they  for  a  while  to  knock  any  more,  for  fear  the 
Mastiff  should  fly  upon  them.  Now  therefore  Christiana  and 
they  were  greatly  tumbled  up  and  down  in  j 
their  minds,  and  knew  not  what  to  do.  Knock  Prayer. 
they  durst  not,  for  fear  of  the  Dog:  go  back  they  durst 
not  for  fear  that  the  Keeper  of  that  Gate  should  espy 
them,  as  they  so  went,  and  should  be  offended  with  them. 
At  last  they  thought  of  knocking  again,  and  knocked  more 
vehemently  then  they  did  at  the  first.  Then  said  the  Keeper 
of  the  Gate,  who  is  there  ?  So  the  Dog  left  off  to  bark  and 

o 

he  opened  unto  them. 

Then  Christiana  made  low  obeisance,  and  said,  Let  not  our 
Lord  be  offended  with  his  Handmaidens  for  that  we  have 
knocked  at  his  Princely  Gate.  Then  said  the  Keeper,  Whence 
come  ye,  and  what  is  that  you  would  have  ? 

Christiana  answered,  we  are  come  from  whence  Christian 
did  come,  and  upon  the  same  Errand  as  he ;  to  wit,  to  be, 
if  it  shall  please  you,  graciously  admitted  by  this  Gate,  into 
the  way  that  leads  to  the  Coelestial  City.  And  I  answer, 
my  Lord  in  the  next  place,  that  I  am  Christiana  once  the 
Wife  of  Christian,  that  now  is  gotten  above. 

With  that  the  Keeper  of  the  Gate  did  marvel,  saying, 
What  is  she  become  now  a  Pilgrim,  that  but  a  while  ago 
abhorred  that  Life  ?  Then  she  bowed  her  Head,  and  said, 
Yes ;  and  so  are  these  my  sweet  Babes  also. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  let  her  in  and  said  also, 


226  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Suffer  the  little  Children  to  come  unto  me,  and  with  that  he 
How  shut  up  the  Gate.  This  done,  he  called  to  a 

Christiana  is        Trumpeter  that  was  above  over  the  Gate,  to 

entertained  at  L 

the  Gate.  entertain  Christiana  with  shouting  and  sound 

of  Trumpet  for  joy.  So  he  obeyed  and  sounded,  and  filled 
the  Air  with  his  Melodious  Notes. 

Now  all  this  while,  poor  Mercy  did  stand  without,  tremb- 
ling and  crying  for  fear  that  she  was  rejected.  But  when 
Christiana  had  gotten  admittance  for  herself  and  her  Boys, 
then  she  began  to  make  intercession  for  Mercy. 

CHRIS.  And  she  said,  my  Lord,  I  have  a  Companion  of  mine 
Christianas  ^hat  stands  yet  without,  that  is  come  hither  upon 
Prayer  for  her  the  same  account  as  myself.  One  that  is  much 

friend  Mercy.  ,.          7.7  •     7     X     ,j  7  7 

dejected  in  her  mind,  jor  that  she  comes,  as  she 
thinks,  without  sending  for,  whereas  I  was  sent  to  by  my 
HusbaiuVs  King  to  come. 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be  very  impatient,  for  each  Minute 
The  delays  make  was  as  long  to  her  as  an  hour,  Wherefore  she 
toidThf"0  prevented  Christiana  from  a  fuller  interceding 
ferventer.  for  her,  by  knocking  at  the  Gate  herself.  And 

she  knocked  then  so  loud,  that  she  made  Christiana  to  start. 
Then  said  the  Keeper  of  the  Gate  who  is  there  ?  And  said 
Christiana,  it  is  my  Friend. 

So  he  opened  the  Gate,  and  looked  out;  but  Mercy  was 
Mercy  faints.  fallen  down  without  in  a  Swoon,  for  she  fainted 
and  was  afraid  that  no  Gate  would  be  opened  to  her. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said,  Damsel,  I  bid 
thee  arise. 

O  Sir,  said  she,  I  am  faint,  there  is  scarce  Life  left  in  me. 
But  he  answered,  That  one  once  said,  When  my  soul  fainted 
within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord,  and  my  prayer  came  in  unto 
thee,  into  thy  Holy  Temple.  Fear  not,  but  stand  upon  thy 
Feet,  and  tell  me  wherefore  thou  art  come. 

MEIICV.    I   am   come,    for  that,   unto   which   I   was   never 


MERCY   FAINT  227 

invited,  as  my  Friend  Christiana  was.  Hers  was  from  the 
King,  and  mine  was  but  from  her:  Wherefore  I  fear  I  pre- 
sume. 

Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  with  her  to  this  Place  ? 


MERCY  AT  THE  GATE. 

MERCY.  Yes.     And  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come.     And  if 
there  is  any  Grace   or    forgiveness  of   Sins   to     The  cause  of 
spare,  I  beseech  that  I  thy  poor  Handmaid  may     *«r/«*ltffW' 
be  partaker  thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  Hand,  and  led  her  gently 

O  J  <~>  » 

in,  and  said,  I  pray  for  all  them  that  believe  on     marie  this. 
me,  by  what  means  soever  they  come  unto  me.     Then  said 
he  to   those   that   stood  by,  Fetch  something,  and  give  it 


228  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Mercy  to  smell  on,  thereby  to  stay  her  fainting.  So  they 
fetcht  her  a  Bundle  of  Myrrh,  and  awhile  after  she  was 
revived. 

And  now  was  Christiana  and  her  Boys  and  Mercy  received 
of  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  the  way,  and  spoke  kindly  unto 
by  him. 

Then  said  they  yet  further  unto  him,  We  are  sorry  for  our 
Sins,  and  beg  of  our  Lord  his  Pardon,  and  further  information 
what  we  must  do. 

I  grant  Pardon,  said  he,  by  word,  and  deed ;  by  word  in 
the  promise  of  forgiveness  :  by  deed  in  the  way  I  obtained  it- 
Take  the  first  from  my  Lips  with  a  Kiss,  and  the  other,  as  it 
shall  be  revealed. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream  that  he  spake  many  good  words 
unto  them,  whereby  they  were  greatly  gladded.  He  also  had 
them  up  to  the  top  of  the  Gate  and  shewed  them  by  what 
deed  they  were  saved,  and  told  them  withal,  that  that  sight 
Christ  Crucified  they  would  have  again  as  they  went  along  in  the 

seen  afar  off.  ^    t()   thejr  comfort. 

So  he  left  them  awhile  in  a  Summer  Parlor  below,  where 
Talk  between  they  entred  into  talk  by  themselves.  And  thus 
the  Christians.  Christiana  began,  O  Lord!  How  glad  am  I, 
that  we  are  got  in  hither! 

MERCY.  So  you  well  may ;  but  I,  of  all,  have  cause  to  leap 
for  joy. 

CHRIS.  /  thought,  one  time,  as  I  stood  at  the  Gate  (because 
I  had  knocked  and  none  did  answer)  that  all  our  Labour  had 
been  lost.  Specially  when  that  ugly  Cur  made  such  a  heavy 
barking  against  us. 

o      o 

MERCY.  But  my  worst  Fears  was  after  I  saw  that  you  was 
taken  in  to  his  favour,  and  that  I  was  left  behind.  Now 
thought  I  "'tis  fulfilled  which  is  written.  Two  women  shall  be 

o 

Grinding'  together,  the  one  shall  be  taken,  and  the  other  left. 
I  had  much  ado  to  forbear  crying  out,  Undone,  Undone. 


THE   BARKING   DOG  229 

And  afraid  I  was  to  knock  any  more  ;  but  when  I  looked 
up  to  what  was  written  over  the  Gate,  I  took  Courage. 
I  also  thought  that  I  must  either  knock  again  i  part,  page  32. 
or  die.  So  I  knocked  ;  but  I  cannot  tell  how,  for  my  spirit 
now  struggled  betwixt  life  and  death. 

oo 

CHRIS.   Can  you  not  tell  how  you  knocked?    I  am  sure  your 
icere  so  earnest,  that  the  very  sound  of    ci 


them  made  me  start,  I  thought  I  never  heard  such     Minks  i^r 
knocking'  in  all  my  Life.     I  thought  you  would     prays  better 
a  come  in  by  violent  hands,  or  a  took  the  King- 
dom l)y  storm. 

MERCY.  Alas,  to  be  in  my  Case,  who  that  so  was,  could  but 
a  done  so  ?  You  saw  that  the  Door  was  shut  upon  me,  and 
that  there  was  a  most  cruel  Dog  thereabout.  Who,  I  say, 
that  was  so  faint  hearted  as  I,  that  would  not  a  knocked  with 
all  their  might  ?  But  pray  what  said  my  Lord  to  my  rude- 
ness, was  he  not  angry  with  me  ? 

CHRIS.  When  lie  heard  your  lumbring  noise,  he  gave  a  won- 
derful  innocent  smile.  I  believe  what  you  did  christ  pleased 
pleas  d  him  well  enough.  For  he  shewed  no  sign  with  loud  and 

7   .  7         v       7          restless  praises. 

to  the  contrary.     But  1  marvel  in  my  heart  why 
he  keeps  such  a  Dog;  had  I  known  that  afore, 


I  fear  I  should  not  have  had  heart  enough  to     ail  it  should 

-.  7/>  •       ,7  •  TJ  meet  with  in  its 

nave  ventured  myseLj  in  tins  manner,     nut  now     journey  to 


we  are  in,  we  are  in,  and  I  am  glad  with  all 

my  heart.  out- 

MERCY.  I  will  ask  if  you  please  next  time  he  comes  down, 
why  he  keeps  such  a  filthy  Cur  in  his  Yard.  I  hope  he  will 
not  take  it  amiss. 

Ay  do,  said  the  Children,  and  perswade  him  to     TIM  oiuidren 
hang  him,  for  we  are  afraid  he  will  bite  us  when     ',/,''  ''j  '',,"' 
we  go  hence. 

So  at  last  he  came  down  to  them  again,  and  Mercy  fell  to 
the  Ground  on  her  Face  before  him  and  worshipped,  and 


230  THE   PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

said,  Let  my  Lord  accept  of  the  Sacrifice  of  praise  which 
I  now  offer  unto  him,  with  the  calves  of  my  lips. 

So  he  said  unto  her.,  Peace  be  to  thee,  stand  iip. 

But  she  continued  upon  her  Face  and  said,  Righteous 
M  art  thou  O  Lord  when  I  plead  with  thee,  yet  let 

expostulates  me  talk  with  thee  of  thy  Judgments,  Wherefore 
dost  thou  keep  so  cruel  a  Dog  in  thy  Yard.,  at 
the  sight  of 'which,  such  Women  and  Children  as  we,  are  ready 
to  JJy  from  thy  Gate  for  fear? 

He  answered,  and  said  ;  That  Dog  has  another  Owner,  he 
Devil.  also  is  kept  close  in  another  man's  ground ; 

i  part,  page  33.  only  my  Pilgrims  hear  his  barking.  He  belongs 
to  the  Gastle  which  you  see  there  at  a  distance,  but  can 
come  up  to  the  walls  of  this  place.  He  has  frighted  many 
an  honest  Pilgrim  from  worse  to  better,  by  the  great  voice 
of  his  roaring.  Indeed  he  that  owneth  him,  doth  not  keep 
him  of  any  good  will  to  me  or  mine  ;  but  with  intent  to 
keep  the  Pilgrims  from  coming  to  me,  and  that  they  may  be 
afraid  to  knock  at  this  Gate  for  entrance.  Sometimes  also 
he  has  broken  out,  and  has  worried  some  that  I  love ;  but 
I  take  all  at  present  patiently.  I  also  {rive  my 

A  Check  to  the  .        t  t      *  r  *  .          * 

carnal  fear  of      Pilgrims  timely  help  ;  so  they  are  not  delivered 

the  Pilgrims.  -.•  i  ,  i  i  i  • 

up  to  his  power  to  do  to  them  what  his 
Doggish  nature  would  prompt  him  to.  But  what !  My 
purchased  one,  I  tro,  hadst  thou  known  never  so  much 
before  hand,  thou  wouldst  not  a  been  afraid  of  a 
Dog. 

The  Beggars  that  go  from  Door  to  Door,  will,  rather  than 
they  will  lose  a  supposed  Alms,  run  the  hazard  of  the  bawling, 
barking, .and  biting  too  of  a  Dog:  and  shall  a  Dog,  a  Dog 
in  another  Mans  Yard,  a  Dog  whose  barking  I  turn  to  the 
profit  of  Pilgrims,  keep  any  from  coming  to  me  ?  I  deliver 
them  from  the  Lions,  their  Darling  from  the  power  of  the 
Dog. 


CHRISTIANAS   SONG  231 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  confess  my  Ignorance :  I  spake 
what  I  understood  not :  I  acknowledge  that  thou 

Christians 
doest  all  things  well.  when  wise 

CHRIS.    Then    Christiana   began    to    talk    of    e™qttiesce  m  the 
their  Journey,   and  to  enquire  after  the  way.     wisdom  of  their 
So  he  fed  them,  and  washed  their  feet,  and  set 
them  in  the   way   of  his    Steps,  according   as     i  part,  page  35. 
he  had  dealt  with  her  Husband  before. 

So  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  they  walkt  on  in  their  way, 
and  had  the  weather  very  comfortable  to  them. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying. 

Bless^t  be  the  Day  that  I  began, 
A  Pilgrim  for  to  be. 
And  blessed  also  be  that  man, 
That  thereto  moved  me. 

""Tis  true,  "'twas  long  ere  I  began 
To  seek  to  live  for  ever : 
But  now  I  run  fast  as  I  can, 
^Tis  better  late,  than  never. 

Our  Tears  to  joy.  our  fears  to  Faith 
Are  turned,  as  we  see: 
Thus  our  beginning  (as  one  saith) 
Shews,  what  our  end  will  be. 


Now  there  was,  on  the  other  side  of  the  Wall  that  fenced 
in  the  way  up  which  Christiana  and  her  Companions  was  to 
go,  a   Garden  ;  and  that   Garden  belonged  to     me  Devils 
him  whose   was    that  Barking  Dog  of   whom 
mention  was  made    before.     And   some  of  the   Fruit-Trees 
that  ffrew  in  that  Garden  shot  their  branches  over  the  Wall, 

o 

and  being  mellow,  they  that  found  them  did  gather  them 
up  and  oft  eat  of  them  to  their  hurt.     So  Christianas  Boys, 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

as  Boys  are  apt  to  do,  being  pleas VI  with  the  Trees,  and 
with  the  fruit  that  did  hang  thereon,  did  plash  them  and 
The  children  began  to  eat.  Their  Mother  did  also  chide 
eat  of  the  them  for  so  doing;  but  still  the  Boys  went 

Enemy's  Fruit. 

on. 

Well,  said  she,  my  Sons,  you  Transgress,  for  that  fruit  is 
none  of  ours :  but  she  did  not  know  that  they  did  belong  to 
the  Enemy.  Pll  warrant  you  if  she  had,  she  would  a  been 
ready  to  die  for  fear.  But  that  passed,  and  they  went  on 
their  way.  Now  by  that  they  were  gone  about  two  BowV 
shot  from  the  place  that  let  them  into  the  way,  they  espyed 
TWO  ni-  two  very  ill-favoured  ones  coming  down  apace 

favoured  ones.       to    meet    them<     Wrfh    that    Christiana,   and 

Mercy  her  Friend  covered  themselves  with  their  Vails,  and 
so  kept  on  their  Journey :  the  Children  also  went  on  before, 
so  that  at  last  they  met  together.  Then  they  that  came 
down  to  meet  them,  came  just  up  to  the  Women,  as  if  they 
would  embrace  them  :  but  Christiana  said,  Stand  back,  or  go 
They  assault  peaceably  by  as  you  should.  Yet  these  two, 
Christiana.  as  men  \\l&^  arc  deaf?  regarded  not  Christianas 

words ;  but  began  to  lay  hands  upon  them  ;  at  that  Christiana 

waxing  very  wroth,  spurned  at  them  with  her  feet.     Mercy 

also,  as  well  as  she  could,  did  what  she  could 

The  pilgrims  m  <  ••11 

struggle  tvith  to  shift  them.  Christiana  again,  said  to  them, 
Stand  back  and  be  gone,  for  we  have  no 
Money  to  lose,  being  Pilgrims  as  ye  see,  and  such  too  as 
live  upon  the  Charity  of  our  Friends. 

ILL-FA.  Then  said  one  of  the  two  of  the  Men,  we  make  no 
assault  upon  you  for  Money,  but  are  come  out  to  tell  you, 
that  if  you  will  but  grant  one  small  request  which  we  shall 
ask,  we  will  make  Women  of  you  for  ever. 

CHRIS.  Now  Christiana  imagining  what  they  should  mean, 
'made  answer  again,  We  will  neither  hear  nor  regard,  nor  yield 
to  what. you  shall  ask.  We  are  In  haste,  cannot  stay,  our 


THE  RELIEVER  233 

Business  is  a  Business  of  Life  and  Death.  So  again  she  and 
her  Companions  made  a  fresh  assay  to  go  past  them.  But 
they  letted  them  in  their  way. 

ILL-FA.  And  they  said,  we  intend  no  hurt  to  your  lives,  'tis 
another  thing  we  would  have. 

CHRIS.  Ay,  quoth  Christiana,  you  would  have  us  Body  and 
Soul,  for  I  know  'tis  for  that  you  are  come  ;  but  She  cries  out. 
we  Avill  die  rather  upon  the  spot,  then  suffer  ourselves  to  be 
brought  into  such  Snares  as  shall  hazard  our  wellbeing  here- 
after. And  with  that  they  both  Shrieked  out,  and  cryed 
Murder,  Murder :  and  so  put  themselves  under  those 
Laws  that  are  provided  for  the  Protection  of  Women. 
But  the  men  still  made  their  approach  upon  them,  with 
design  to  prevail  against  them  :  They  therefore  cryed  out 


again. 


Now  they  being,  as  I  said,  not  far  from  the  Gate  in  at 
which  they  came,  their  voice  was   heard  from     ,Tis  (     t  to 
where  they  was,  thither.     Wherefore  some  of    out  u-hen  ice  are 

.  T       f-r  -.   ,  •          ,  i          « ,  assaulted. 

the  House  came  out,  and  knowing  that  it  was 
Christiana 's  Tongue,  they  made  haste  to  her  relief.     But  by 
that  they  was  got  within  sight  of  them,  the  Women  was  in 
a .  very  great    scuffle,   the   Children    also    stood    crying    by. 
Then  did  he  that  came  in  for  their  relief,  call     The  lf(,Uever 
out  to  the  Ruffians  saying,  AVhat  is  that  thing     comes. 
that  you  do  ?     Would  you  make  my  Lord's  People  to  trans- 
gress ?    He  also  attempted  to  take  them  :  but  they  did  make 
their  escape  over  the  Wall   into   the  Garden  of  the   Man, 
to  whom  the  great  Dog  belonged,  so  the  Dog 

_  %  i  J.  tic  zit  {./MCti  fl ?/ 

became    their   Protector.      1ms    Reliever   then     to  the  devil  fur 
came  up  to  the  Women,  and  asked  them  how 
they  did.     So  they  answered,  we  thank  thy  Prince,  pretty 
well,  only  we  have  been  somewhat  affrighted,  we  thank  thee 
also  for  that  thou  earnest  in  to  our  help,  for  otherwise  we 
had  been  overcome. 


234  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

RELIEVER.    So  after  a  few  more  words,  this  Reliever  said, 
as  followeth :    I  marvelled  much  when  you  was 

Th&  JRclicva* 

talks  to  the  entertained  at  the  Gate  above,  being  ye  knew  that 

ye  were  but  weak    Women,  that  you  petitioned 

not  the  Lord  there  for  a  Conductor.      Then  might  you  have 

avoided   these   Troubles,   and   Dangers;   for  he  would  have 

granted  you  one. 

CHRIS.  Alas  said  Christiana,  we  were  so  taken  with  our 

mark  this.  present   blessing,   that   Dangers   to   come   were 

forgotten  by  us  ;  besides,  who  could  have  thought  that  so 
near  the  King's  Palace  there  should  have  lurked  such 
naughty  ones  ?  Indeed  it  had  been  well  for  us  had  we  asked 
our  Lord  for  one ;  but  since  our  Lord  knew  'twould  be  for 
our  profit,  I  wonder  he  sent  not  one  along  with  us. 

RELIE.  It  is  not  always  necessary  to  grant  things  not  asked 
for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  become  of  little  esteem ; 
want  of  asking      but  when  the  want  of  a   thing  is  felt,  it  then 
comes  under,  in  the  Eyes  of  him  that  feels  it, 
that    estimate    that  properly  is    its  due,  and  so  consequently 
will  be  thereafter  used.     Had  my  Lord  granted  you  a  Con- 
ductor, you  would  not  neither  so  have  bewailed  that  oversight  of 
yours  in  not  ashing  for  one,  as  now  you  have  occasion  to  do. 
So  all  things  work  for  good,  and  tend  to  make  you  more  wary. 

CHRIS.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord,  and  confess 
our  folly  and  ask  one  ? 

RELIE.  Your  Confession  of  your  folly,  I  will  present  him  with: 
to  go  back  again,  you  need  not.  For  in  all  places  where  you 
shall  come,  you  will  find  no  want  at  all,  for  in  every  of  my 
Lord's  Lodgings  which  he  has  prepared  for  the  reception  of  his 
Pilgrims,  there  is  sufficient  to  furnish  them  against  all  attempts 
whatsoever.  But,  as  I  said,  he  will  be  inquired  of  by  them  to 
do  it  for  them;  and ''tis  a  poor  thing  that  is  not  worth  asking 
for.  When  he  had  thus  said,  he  went  back  to  his  place,  and 
the  Pilgrims  went  on  their  way. 


DISREGARDED    DANGER  £35 

MKUCV.  Then  said  Mercy,  what  a  sudden  blank  is  here  ? 
I   made    account    we    had  now   been    past   all     The  mistake  of 
danger,  and   that  we   should   never  see  sorrow     Mercy. 
more. 

CHRIS.  Thy  Innocency,  my  Sister,  said  Christiana  to  Mercy, 
may  excuse  thee  much  ;  but  as  for  me,  my  fault     Christiana's 
is   so   much   the   greater,   for  that   I   saw    this     Guilt. 
danger  before  I  came  out   of   the  Doors,  and   yet   did   not 
provide  for  it,   where  Provision   might  a  been  had.     I  am 
therefore  much  to  be  blamed. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  how  knew  you  this  before  yon 
came  from  home?  pray  open  to  me  this  Riddle. 

CHRIS.  Why,  I  will  tell  you.  Before  I  set  Eoot  out  of 
Doors,  one  Night,  as  I  lay  in  my  Bed,  I  had  a  Dream  about 
this.  For  methought  I  saw  two  men,  as  like  these  as  ever  the 
World  they  could  look,  stand  at  my  Beers-feet,  plotting  how 
they  might  prevent  my  Salvation.  I  will  tell  you  their  very 
words.  They  said,  ("'twas  when  I  was  in  my 

^  v  J        Christiana's 

1  roubles,)  What  shall  we  do  with  this  Woman?     Dream  re- 
For  she  cries  out  waking  and  sleeping  for  for- 
giveness:    if  she  be  suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall 
lose  her  as  we  have  lost  her  Husband.     This  you  know  might 
have  made  me  take  heed,  and  have  provided  when  Provision 
might  a  been  had. 

MERCY.  AVell  said  Mercy,  as  by  this  neglect,  we  have  an 
occasion    ministred  unto   us,    to  behold  our  own     M^rcy  makes 
imperfections:    so  our  Lord  has  taken  occasion     th°f™fffl£t of 
thereby,  to  make  manifest  the  Riches  of  his  Grace.     dufy- 
For  he,  as  we  see,  has  followed  us  with  an  unasked  kindness, 
and  has  delivered  us  from  their  hands  that  were  stronger  than 
we,  of  his  mere  good  pleasure. 

Thus  now  when  they  had  talked  away  a  little  more  time, 
they  drew  nigh  to  an  House  which  stood  in  the  i  part,  page  36. 
way.,  which  House  was  built  for  the  relief  of  Pilgrims,  as 


236  THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

you  will  find  more  fully  related  in  the  first  part  of  these 
Records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  So  they  drew  on  towards 
the  House,  (the  House  of  the  Interpreter)  and  when  they 
Talk  in  the  came  to  the  Door  they  heard  a  great  talk  in 
house  about  the  House,  they  then  gave  ear,  and  heard,  as 
Christianas  they  thought,  Christiana  mentioned  by  name. 

going  on  •>  J 

pilgrimage.  For  you   must  know  that  there   went   along, 

even  before  her,  a  talk  of  her  and  her  Children's  going  on 
Pilgrimage.  And  this  thing  was  the  more  pleasing  to  them, 
because  they  had  heard  that  she  was  Christianas  Wife ;  that 
Woman  who  was  some  time  ago,  so  unwilling  to  hear  of 
going  on  Pilgrimage.  Thus  therefore  they  stood  still  and 
heard  the  good  people  within  commending  her,  who  they 
little  thought  stood  at  the  Door.  At  last  Christiana 
She  knocks  at  knocked  as  she  had  done  at  the  Gate  before. 
Now  when  she  had  knocked,  there  came  to  the 
Door  a  young  Damsel,  and  opened  the  Door  and  looked,  and 
behold  two  Women  was  there. 

Tiiedooris  DAMS.   Then  said  the  Damsel  to  them.  With 

opened  to  them      whom  would  you  speak  in  this  place  ? 

CHRIS.  Christiana  answered,  we  understand 
that  this  is  a  privileged  place  for  those  that  are  become 
Pilgrims,  and  we  now  at  this  Door  are  such.  Wherefore  we 
pray  that  we  may  be  partakers  of  that  for  which  we  at  this 
time  are  come ;  for  the  day,  as  thou  seest,  is  very  far  spent, 
and  we  are  loath  to  night  to  go  any  further. 

DAMS.  Pray  what  may  I  call  your  name,  that  I  may  tell  it 
to  my  Lord  within  ? 

CHRIS.  My  name  is  Christiana,  I  was  the  Wife  of  that 
Pilgrim  that  some  years  ago  did  travel  this  way,  and  these 
be  his  four  Children.  This  Maiden  also  is  my  Companion, 
and  is  going  on  Pilgrimage  too. 

INNOCENT.  Then  ran  Innocent  in  (for  that  was  her  name) 
and  said  to  those  within,  Can  you  think  who  is  at  the  Door ! 


THE   INTERPRETERS   HOUSE  237 

There  is  Christiana  and  her  Children,  and  her  Companion, 
all  waiting  for  entertainment  here.     Then  they      -    in  the 
leaped  for  Joy,  and  went  and  told  their  Master.     house  of  the 

TtitcTDTct^T  that, 

So  he  came  to  the  Door,  and  looking  upon  her,     Christiana  is 
he  said,  A  rt  thou  that  Christiana  whom  Christian     turned  Pil9rim- 
the  Good-man,  left  behind  him,  when  he  betook  himself  to  a 
Pilgrim's  Life. 

CHIUS.  I  am  that  Woman  that  was  so  hard-hearted  as  to 
slight  my  Husband's  troubles,  and  that  left  him  to  go  on  in 
his  Journey  alone,  and  these  are  his  four  Children  ;  but  now 
I  also  am  come,  for  I  am  convinced  that  no  way  is  right  but 
this. 

INTER.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  also  is  written  of  the 
Man  that  said  to  his  Son,  go  work  to  day  in  my  Vineyard, 
and  lie  said  to  his  Father,  I  will  not ;  but  afterwards  repented 
and  went. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  So  be  it,  Amen.  God  made 
it  a  true  saying  upon  me,  and  grant  that  I  may  be  found  at 
the  last  of  him,  in  peace  without  spot  and  blameless. 

INTER.  But  why  standest  thou  thus  at  the  Door  ?     Come  in 
thou  Daughter  of  Abraham,  we  was  talking  of  thee  but  now : 
for  tidings  have  come  to  us  before,  how  thou  art  become  a  Pil- 
grim.    Come  Children,  come  in ;   come  Maiden,  come  in ;    so 
he  had  them  all  into  the  House. 

So  when  they  were  within,  they  were  bidden  sit  down  and 
rest  them,  the  which  when  they  had  done,  those  that  attended 
upon  the  Pilgrims  in  the  House  came  into  the  Room  to  see 
them.  And  one  smiled,  and  another  smiled,  old  Saints  glad 
and  they  all  smiled  for  Joy  that  Christiana  was  ^Swaik^ 
become  a  Pilgrim.  They  also  looked  upon  the  Gods  ways- 
Boys,  they  stroaked  them  over  the  Faces  with  the  Hand,  in 
token  of  their  kind  reception  of  them  :  they  also  carried  it 
lovingly  to  Mercy,  and  bid  them  all  welcome  into  their 
Master's  House. 


238  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

After  a  while,  because  Supper  was  not  ready,  the  Interpreter 
The  Significant  took  them  into  his  Significant  Rooms,  and 
Rooms-  shewed  them  what  Christian,  Christianas  Hus- 

band had  seen  sometime  before.  Here  therefore  they  saw 
the  Man  in  the  Cage,  the  Man  and  his  Dream,  the  man  that 
cut  his  ways  thorough  his  Enemies,  and  the  Picture  of  the 
biggest  of  them  all :  together  with  the  rest  of  those  things 
that  were  then  so  profitable  to  Christian. 

This  done,  and  after  these  things  had  been  somewhat 
digested  by  Christiana,  and  her  company,  the  Interpreter 
takes  them  apart  again,  and  has  them  first  into  a  Room, 
The  Man  ivith  where  was  a  man  that  could  look  no  way  but 
the  Muckrake  downwards,  with  a  Muckrcflce  in  his  hand. 

expounded.  r   ,  ,  ,  .       ,  .  . 

1  here  stood  also  one  over  Ins  head  with  a 
Cci'lestial  Crown  in  his  Hand,  and  proffered  to  give  him  that 
Crown  for  his  Muck-rake ;  but  the  man  did  neither  look  up, 
nor  regard ;  but  raked  to  himself  the  Straws,  the  small  Sticks, 
and  Dust  of  the  Floor. 

Then  said  Christiana,  I  perswade  myself  that  I  know  some- 
what the  meaning  of  this :  For  this  is  a  Figure  of  a  man  of 
this  World :  Is  it  not,  good  Sir? 

INTER.  Thou  hast  said  the  right,  said  he,  and  his  Muck- 
rake, doth  shew  his  Carnal  mind.  And  whereas  thou  seest 
him  rather  give  heed  to  rake  up  Straws  and  Sticks,  and  the 
Dust  of  the  Floor,  than  to  what  he  says  that  calls  to  him 
from  above  with  the  Coelestial  Crown  in  his  Hand ;  it  is  to 
show,  that  Heaven  is  but  as  a  Eable  to  soine,  and  that  things 
here  are  counted  the  only  things  substantial.  Now  whereas 
it  was  also  shewed  thee,  that  the  man  could  look  no  way  but 
downwards,  it  is  to  let  thee  know  that  earthly  things  when 
they  are  with  Power  upon  Men's  minds,  quite  carry  their 
hearts  away  from  God. 
Christiana's  CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  0!  deliver  me 

prayer  against         „  7.       ,  r     ,         , 

the  Muck-rake.      JTOm   tfllS   MnCK-rake. 


OF  THE   SPIDER  239 

INTER.  That  Prayer,  said  the  Interpreter,  has  lain  by  till 
'tis  almost  rusty :  Give  me  not  Riches,  is  scarce  the  Prayer 
of  one  of  ten  thousand.  Straws,  and  Sticks,  and  Dust,  witk 
most,  are  the  great  things  now  looked  after. 

With  that  Mercy,  and  Christiana  wept,  and  said,  It  is  alas  ! 
too  true. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  shewed  them  this,  he  has  them 
into  the  very  best  Room  in  the  House,  (a  very  brave  Room  it 
was)  so  he  bid  them  look  round  about,  and  see  if  they  could 
find  any  thing  profitable  there.  Then  they  looked  round  and 
round,  for  there  was  nothing  there  to  be  seen  but  a  very 
great  Spider  on  the  Wall,  and  that  they  overlookt. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  Sir,  I  see  nothing;  but  Chris- 
tiana held  her  peace. 

INTER.  But  said  the  Interpreter,  look  again  :    she  therefore 
lookt  again  and  said,  Here  is  not  any  thing,     Of  the  Spider. 
but  an  ngly  Spider,  who  hangs  by  her  Hands  upon  the  Wall. 
Then  said  he,  Is  there  but  one  Spider  in  all  this  spacious 

room  ?     Then  the  water  stood  in  Christiana's  Eves,  for  she 

•/ 

was  a  Woman   quick   of  apprehension :    and   she  said,  Yes, 
Lord,  there  is  here  more  than  one.     Yea,  and     Talk  about  the 
Spiders  whose  Venom   is   far  more  destructive     Spider. 
then   that    which  is   in    her.     The   Interpreter  then    looked 
pleasantly  upon   her,  and  said,  Thou   hast  said  the  Truth. 
This  made  Mercy  blush,  and  the  Boys  to  cover  their  Faces: 
For  they  all  began  now  to  understand  the  Riddle. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,   The  Spider  tciketh  hold 
with  her  hands  as  you  see,  and  is  in  King's  Palaces.     And 
wherefore  is  this  recorded,  but  to  shew  you,  that  how  full  of 
the  Venom  of  Sin  soever  you  be,  yet  you  may     The  interpreta- 
by  the  hand  of  Faith  lay  hold  of,  and  dwell  in     tion- 
the  best  Room  that  belongs  to  the  King's  House  above  ? 

CHRIS.  I  thought,  said  Christiana,  of  something  of  this  ; 
but  I  could  not  imagine  it  all.  I  thought  that  we  were  like 


240  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Spiders,  and  that  we  looked  like  ugly  Creatures,  in  what  fine 
Room  soever  we  were.  But  that  by  this  Spider,  this  venom- 
ous and  ill-favoured  Creature,  we  were  to  learn  how  to  act 
Faith,  that  came  not  into  my  mind.  And  yet  she  has  taken 
hold  with  her  hands,  as  I  see,  and  dwells  in  the  best  Room  in 
the  House.  God  has  made  nothing  in  vain. 

Then  they  seemed  all  to  be  glad ;  but  the  water  stood  in 
their  Eyes.  Yet  they  looked  one  upon  another,  and  also 
bowed  before  the  Interpreter. 

He  had  them  then  into  another  Room  where  was  a  Hen 
of  the  Hen  and,  and  Chickens,  and  bid  them  observe  a  while. 
So  one  of  the  Chickens  went  to  the  Trough  to 
drink,  and  every  time  she  drank  she  lift  up  her  head  and 
her  eyes  towards  Heaven.  See,  said  he,  what  this  little  Chick 
doth,  and  learn  of  her  to  acknowledge  whence  your  Mercies 
come,  by  receiving  them  with  looking  up.  Yet  again,  said 
he,  observe  and  look :  So  they  gave  heed,  and  perceived  that 
the  Hen  did  walk  in  a  fourfold  Method  towards  her  Chickens. 

1.  She  had  a  common  call,  and  that  she  hath  all  day  long. 

2.  She  had  a  special  call,  and  that  she  had  but  sometimes. 

3.  She  had  a  brooding  note,  and  4.  she  had  an  out-cry. 
Now,  said  he,  compare  this  Hen  to  your  King,  and  these 

Chickens  to  his  obedient  ones.  For  answerable  to  her,  him- 
self has  his  Methods,  which  he  walketh  in  towards  his  People. 
By  his  common  call,  lie  gives  nothing;  by  his  special  call,  he 
always  has  something  to  give ;  he  has  also  a  brooding  voice, 
for  them  that  are  under  his  Wing ;  and  he  has  an  out-cry,  to 
give  the  Alarm  when  he  seeth  the  Enemy  come.  I  chose,  my 
Darlings,  to  lead  you  into  the  Room  where  such  things  are 
because  you  are  Women  and  they  are  easy  for  you. 

CHRIS.  And  Sir,  said  Christiana,  pray  let  us  see  some  more : 
Of  the  Butcher  So  he  had  them  into  the  Slaughter-house,  where 
and  the  Sheep.  was  a  Butcher  a  killing  of  a  Sheep  :  and  behold 
the  Sheep  was  quiet,  and  took  her  Death  patiently.  Then 


PROFITABLE  THINGS 

said  the  Interpreter:  you  must  learn  of  this  Sheep,  to  suffer, 
and  to  put  up  wrongs  without  murmuring*  and  complaints. 
Behold  how  quietly  she  takes  her  Death,  and  without 
objecting  she  suffereth  her  Skin  to  be  pulled  over  her  Ears. 
Your  King  doth  call  you  his  Sheep. 

After  this,  he  led  them  into  his  Garden,  where  was  great 
variety  of  Flowers  ;  and  he  said,  do  you  see  all  Of  the  Garden. 
these  ?  So  Christiana  said,  yes.  Then  said  he  again,  Behold 
the  Flowers  are  divers  in  Stature,  in  Quality ',  and  Colour,  and 
Smell,  and  Virtue,  and  some  are  better  than  some  :  also  where 
the  Gardener  has  set  them,  there  they  stand,  and  quarrel  not 
one  with  another. 

Again,  he  had  them  into  his  Field,  which  he  had  sowed 
with  Wheat,  and  Corn  :  but  when  they  beheld,  Of  the  Field. 
the  tops  of  all  was  cut  off,  only  the  Straw  remained.  He 
said  again,  This  Ground  was  Dunged,  and  Plowed,  and 
Sowed ;  but  what  shall  we  do  with  the  Crop  ?  Then  said 
Christiana,  burn  some  and  make  muck  of  the  rest.  Then  said 
the  Interpreter  again,  Fruit  you  see  is  that  thing  you  look  for, 
and  for  want  of  that  you  condemn  it  to  the  Fire,  and  to  be 
trodden  under  foot  of  men.  Beware  that  in  this  you  con- 
demn not  yourselves. 

Then,  as  they  were  coming  in  from  abroad,  they  espied 
a  little  Robin  with  a  great  Spider  in  his  mouth,  ofthe  RoUn 
So  the  Interpreter  said,  look  here.  So  they  and  the  Spider. 
looked,  and  Mercy  wondred ;  but  Christiana  said,  what 
a  disparagement  is  it  to  such  a  little  pretty  Bird  as  the 
Robin-red-breast  is,  he  being  also  a  Bird  above  many,  that 
loveth  to  maintain  a  kind  of  Sociableness  with  Man  ?  I  had 
thought  they  had  lived  upon  crumbs  of  Bread,  or  upon  other 
such  harmless  matter.  I  like  him  worse  than  I  did. 

The  Interpreter  then  replied,  This  Robin  is  an  Emblem 
very  apt  to  set  forth  some  Professors  by ;  for  to  sight  they 
are  as  this  Robin,  pretty  of  Note,  Colour  and  Carriage,  they 


9AZ  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

seem  also  to  have  a  very  great  Love  for  Professors  that  are 
sincere ;  and  above  all  other  to  desire  to  associate  with,  and 
to  be  in  their  Company,  as  if  they  could  live  upon  the  good 
Man's  Crumbs.  They  pretend  also  that  therefore  it  is,  that 
they  frequent  the  House  of  the  Godly,  and  the  appointments 
of  the  Lord  :  but  when  they  are  by  themselves,  as  the  Robin, 
they  can  catch  and  gobble  up  Spiders,  they  can  change  their 
Diet,  drink  Iniquity,  and  swallow  down  Sin  like  Water. 

So  when  they  were  come  again  into  the  House,  because 
Pray  and  you  Supper  as  yet  was  not  ready,  Christiana  again 
wM/hletitef-  desired  that  the  Interpreter  would  either  shew  or 
mireveaied.  foil  of  some  other  things  that  are  Profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began  and  said,  The  fatter  the  Sow  is, 
the  more  she  desires  the  Mire ;  the  fatter  the  0*v  is,  the  more 
gamesomly  he  goes  to  the  Slaughter ;  and  the  more  healthy  the 
lusty  man  is,  the  more  prone  he  is  unto  Evil. 

There  is  a  desire  in  Women  to  go  neat  and  fine,  and  it  is 
a  comely  thing  to  be  adorned  with  that,  that  in  God's  sight  is 
of  great  price. 

''Tis  easier  watching'  a  night  or  two,  than  to  sit  up  a  whole 
year  together:  So  "'tis  easier  for  one  to  begin  to  profess  well, 
than  to  hold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end. 

Every  Ship-Master,  when  in  a  Storm,  will  willingly  cast 
that  overboard  that  is  of  the  smallest  value  in  the  Vessel ;  but 
who  will  throw  the  best  out  first  ?  none  but  he  that  f caret  It 
not  God. 

One  leak  will  sink'  a  Ship,  and  one  Sin  will  destroy  a  Sinner. 

He  that  forgets  his  Friend  is  ungrateful  unto  him:  but  he 
that  forgets  his  Saviour  is  unmerciful  to  himself. 

He  that  lives  in  Sin,  and  looks  for  Happiness  hereafter,  is 
like  him  that  soweth  Cockle,  and  thinks  to  Jill  his  Barn  with 
Wheat  or  Barley. 

If  a  man  would  live  well,  let  him  fetch  his  last  Jay  to  Iiini, 
and  make  it  always  his  company- Keeper. 


THE    PILGRIMS    AT   SUPPER  243 

Whispering  and  change  of  thoughts,  proves  that  Sin  is  in 
the  World. 

If  the  World,  which  God  sets  light  by,  is  counted  a  thing 
of  that  worth  with  men:  what  is  Heaven  which  God  com- 
mendeth  ? 

If  the  life  that  is  attended  with  so  many  troubles,  is  so  loth 
to  be  let  go  by  us,  What  is  the  life  above  ? 

Every  Body  will  cry  up  the  goodness  of  Men  ;  but  who  is 
there  that  is,  as  he  should,  affected  with  the  Goodness  of  God? 

We  seldom  sit  down  to  Meat,  but  we  eat,  and  leave  :  So  there 
is  in  Jesus  Christ  more  Merit  and  Righteousness  than  the  whole 
World  has  need  of. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes  them  out  into  his 
Garden  again,  and  had  them  to  a  Tree  whose     Ofthe  Tl.ee 
inside  was  Rotten,  and  gone,  and  yet  it  gre\\      that  is  rotten  at 
and  had  Leaves.    Then  said  Mercy,  what  means 
this?     This  Tree,  said  he,  whose  outside  is  fair,  and  whose 
inside  is  rotten ;  it  is  to  which  many  may  be  compared  that 
are  in  the  Garden  of  God  :  who  with  their  mouths  speak  high 
in  behalf  of  God,  but  indeed  will  do  nothing  for  him  :   whose 
Leaves  are  fair,  but  their  heart  Good  for  nothing  but  to  be 
Tinder  for  the  Devil's  Tinder-Box. 

Now  supper  was  ready,  the  Table  spread,  and  all  things  set 
on  the  Board ;   so  they  sate  down  and  did  eat     They  are  at 
when  one  had  given  thanks.    And  the  Interpreter     SuPPer- 
did  usually  entertain  those  that  lodged  with  him  with  Musick 
at  Meals,  so  the  Minstrels  played.     There  was  also  one  that 
did  Sing.     And  a  very  fine  voice  he  had. 

His  song  was  this. 

The  Lord  is  only  my  Support, 
And  he  that  doth  me  feed : 
How  can  I  then   want  anything, 
Whereof  I  stand  in  need? 

K 


244  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

When  the  Song  and  Musick  was  ended,  the  Interpreter 
Talk  at  Supper,  asked  Christiana,  What  it  was  that  at  Jlrst  did 
move  her  to  betake  herself  to  a  Pilgrims  Life  ? 

Christiana  answered.  First,  the  loss  of  my  Husband  came 
into  my  mind,  at  which  I  was  heartily  grieved  : 

A  Repetition  of  J  .      & 

Christiana's  but  all  that  was  but  natural  Affection.  Then 
after  that,  came  the  Troubles,  and  Pilgrimage 
of  my  Husband's  into  my  mind,  and  also  how  like  a  Churl 
I  had  carried  it  to  him  as  to  that.  So  guilt  took  hold  of 
my  mind,  and  would  have  drawn  me  into  the  Pond ;  but  that 
opportunely  I  had  a  Dream  of  the  well-being  of  my  Husband, 
and  a  Letter  sent  me  by  the  King  of  that  Country  where  my 
Husband  dwells,  to  come  to  him.  The  Dream  and  the  Letter 
together  so  wrought  upon  my  mind,  that  they  forced  me  to 
this  way. 

INT EII.  But  met  you  with  no  opposition  afore  you  set  out  of 
Doors  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes,  a  Neighbor  of  mine  one  Mrs.  Timorous,  (She 
was  akin  to  him  that  would  have  perswaded  my  Husband  to 
go  back  for  fear  of  the  Lions.)  She  all-to-be-fooled  me  for, 
as  she  called  it,  my  intended  desperate  adventure ;  she  also 
urged  \vhat  she  could,  to  dishearten  me  to  it,  the  hardship 
and  Troubles  that  my  Husband  met  with  in  the  way ;  but 
all  this  I  got  over  pretty  well.  But  a  Dream  that  I  had  of 
two  ill-lookt  ones,  that  I  thought  did  plot  how  to  make  me 
miscarry  in  my  Journey,  that  hath  troubled  me  mtich :  -Yea, 
it  still  runs  in  my  mind,  and  makes  me  afraid  of  every  one 
that  I  meet,  lest  they  should  meet  me  to  do  me  a  mischief, 
and  to  turn  me  out  of  the  way.  Yea,  I  may  tell  my  Lord, 
tho"1  I  would  not  have  everybody  know  it,  that  between  this 
and  the  Gate  by  which  we  got  into  the  way,  we  were  both  so 
sorely  assaulted,  that  we  were  made  to  cry  out  Murder,  and 
the  two  that  made  this  assault  upon  us,  were  like  the  two 
that  I  saw  in  my  Dream. 


MERCY   QUESTIONED  245 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Thy  beginning  is  good,  thy  latter 
end  shall  greatly  increase.    So  he  addressed  himself  to  Mercy, 
and  said  unto  her,  And  what  moved  thec  to  come     A  question  put 
hither,  sweet-heart  ?  to  Mercy- 

MERCY.  Then  Mercy  blushed  and  trembled,  and  for  a  while 
continued  silent. 

INTER.  Then  said  he,  be  not  afraid,  only  believe,  and  speak 
thy  mind. 

MERCY.  So  she  began  and  said.  Truly  Sir,  my  want  of 
Experience,  is  that  that  makes  me  covet  to  be  Mercy's  an&ver. 
in  silence,  and  that  also  that  fills  me  with  fears  of  coming 
short  at  last.  I  cannot  tell  of  Visions,  and  Dreams,  as 
my  friend  Christiana  can ;  nor  know  I  what  it  is  to  mourn 
for  my  refusing  of  the  Counsel  of  those  that  were  good 
Relations. 

INTER.  What  was  it  then,  dear-heart,  that  hath  prevailed 
with  thee  to  do  as  thou  hast  done  ? 

MERCY.  Why,  when  our  friend  here,  was  packing  up  to  go 
from  our  Town,  I  and  another  went  accidentally  to  see  her. 
So  we  knocked  at  the  Door  and  went  in.  When  we  were 
within,  and  seeing  what  she  was  doing,  we  asked  what  was  her 
meaning.  She  said  she  was  sent  for  to  go  to  her  Husband, 
and  then  she  up  and  told  us,  how  she  had  seen  him  in  a  Dream, 
dwelling  in  a  curious  place  among  Immortals  wearing  a  Crown, 
playing  upon  a  Harp,  eating  and  drinking  at  his  Prince's 
Table,  and  singing  Praises  to  him  for  bringing  him  thither, 
&c.  Now  methought,  while  she  was  telling  these  things  unto 
us,  my  heart  burned  within  me.  And  I  said  in  my  Heart, 
if  this  be  true,  I  will  leave  my  Father  and  my  Mother,  and 
the  land  of  my  Nativity,  and  will,  if  I  may,  go  along  with 
Christiana. 

So  I  asked  her  further  of  the  truth  of  these  things,  and  if 
she  would  let  me  go  with  her  ?  For  I  saw  now  that  there 
was  no  dwelling,  but  with  the  danger  of  ruin,  any  longer  in 


246  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

our  Town.  But  yet  I  came  away  with  a  heavy  heart,  not  for 
that  I  was  unwilling  to  come  away ;  but  for  that  so  many  of 

•/  » 

my  Relations  were  left  behind.  And  I  am  come  with  all  the 
desire  of  my  heart,  and  will  go,  if  I  may,  with  Christiana 
unto  her  Husband,  and  his  King. 

INTER.  Thy  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou  hast  given  credit 
to  the  truth.  Thou  art  a  Ruth^  who  did  for  the  love  that 
she  bore  to  Naomi,  and  to  the  Lord  her  God,  leave  Father 
and  Mother,  and  the  land  of  her  Nativity  to  come  out,  and 
go  with  a  People  that  she  knew  not  heretofore,  The  Lord 
recompence  tliy  ivorlc,  and  a  full  reward  be  given  thee  of  the 
Lord  God  of  Israel,  under  whose  icings  thou  art  come  to  trust. 

Now  Supper  was  ended,  and  Preparations  was  made  for 

They  address          Bed»    tlle    Women    were    laid    singty    alone»    a«d 

themselves  for  the  Boys  by  themselves.  Now  when  Mercy 
bed. 

Mercy's  good         was  in  Bed,  she  could  not   sleep  for  joy,  for 

that  now  her  doubts  of  missing  at  last  were 

removed  further  from  her  than  ever  they  were  before.     So 

•/ 

she  lay  blessing  and  praising  God  who  had  had  such  favour 
for  her. 

In  the  Morning  they  arose  with  the  Sun,  and  prepared 
themselves  for  their  departure :  but  the  Interpreter  would 
have  them  tarry  awhile,  for,  said  he,  you  must  orderly  go 
from  hence.  Then  said  he  to  the  Damsel  that  had  first 
opened  unto  them,  Take  them  and  have  them  into  the 
Garden  to  the  Bath,  and  there  wash  them,  and  make  them 
clean  from  the  soil  which  they  have  gathered  by  travelling. 
Then  Innocent  the  Damsel  took  them  and  had  them  into  the 
The  Bath  Garden,  and  brought  them  to  the  Bath:  so 

Sanctification.  <.\\Q  told  them  that  there  they  must  wash  and 
be  clean,  for  so  her  Master  would  have  the  Women  to  do 
that  called  at  his  House  as  they  were  going  on  Pilgrimage. 
They  wash  in  it.  They  then  went  in  and  washed,  yea  they  and 
the  Boys  and  all,  and  they  came  out  of  that  Bath  not  only 

V  •'  ** 


SEALED   AND   CLOTHED  247 

sweet,  and  clean  ;  but  also  much  enlivened  and  strengthened 
in  their  Joints.  So  when  they  came  in  they  looked  fairer 
a  deal,  then  when  they  went  out  to  the  washing. 

When  they  were  returned  out  of  the  Garden  from  the 
Bath,  the  Interpreter  took  them  and  looked  upon  them  and 
said  unto  them,  fair  as  the  Moon.  Then  he  called  for  the 
Seal  wherewith  they  used  to  be  Sealed  that  They  are 
were  washed  in  his  Bath.  So  the  Seal  was  sealed- 
brought,  and  he  set  his  Mark  upon  them,  that  they  might 
be  known  in  the  Places  whither  they  were  yet  to  go :  Now 
the  seal  was  the  contents  and  sum  of  the  Passover  which 
the  Children  of  Israel  did  eat  when  they  came  out  from  the 
Land  of  Egypt,  and  the  mark  was  set  between  their  Eyes. 
This  seal  greatly  added  to  their  Beauty,  for  it  was  an  Orna- 
ment to  their  Faces.  It  also  added  to  their  gravity  and 
made  their  Countenances  more  like  them  of  Angels. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  Damsel  that  waited 
upon  these  Women,  Go  into  the  Vestry  and  fetch  out  Gar- 
ments for  these  People :  so  she  went  and  fetched  out  white 
Raiment,  and  laid  it  down  before  him  ;    so  he  commanded 
them  to  put  it  on.     It  was  fine  Linen,  white     They  are 
and  clean.  When  the  Women  were  thus  adorned 
they  seemed  to  be  a  Terror  one  to  the  other.     For  that  they 
could  not  see  that  glory  each  one  on  herself,  which  they  could 
see  in  each  other.     Now  therefore  they  began  to  esteem  each 
other    better    than    themselves.     For   you   are     True  humility. 
fairer  than  I  am,  said  one,  and  you  are  more  comely  than 
I  am,  said  another.     The  Children  also  stood  amazed  to  see 
into  what  fashion  they  were  brought. 

The  Interpreter  then  called  for  a  Man-Servant  of  his,  one 
Great-heart,  and  bid  him  take  Sword,  and  Helmet,  and  Shield, 
and  take  these  my  Daughters,  said  he,  and  conduct  them  to 
the  House  called  Beautiful,  at  which  place  they  will  rest  next. 
So  he  took  his  Weapons,  and  went  before  them,  and  the 


248  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

Interpreter  said,  God  speed.  Those  also  that  belonged  to  the 
Family  sent  them  away  with  many  a  good  wish.  So  they 
went  on  their  way,  and  sung, 

This  place  has  been  our  second  Stage, 
Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  things  that  from  Age  to  Age, 
To  others  hid  have  been. 

The  Dunghill- raker ;  Spider,  Hen, 
The  Chicken  too  to  me 
Hath  taught  a  Lesson,  let  me  then 
Conformed  to  it  be. 

The  Butcher,  Garden,  and  the  Field, 
The  Robin,  and  his  bait, 
Also  the  Rotten-tree  doth  yield 
Me  Argument  of  Weight; 

To  move  me  for  to  watch  and  pray, 
To  strive  to  be  sincere, 
To  take  my  Cross  up  day  by  day, 
And  serve  the  Lord  with  fear. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  L)ream  that  they  went  on,  and  Great- 
heart  went  before  them,  so  they  went  and  came  to  the  place 
i  part,  page  46.  where  Christians  Burthen  fell  off  his  Back,  and 
tumbled  into  a  Sepulchre.  Here  then  they  made  a  pause, 
and  here  also  they  blessed  God.  Now  said  Christiana,  it 
comes  to  my  mind  what  was  said  to  us  at  the  Gate,  to 
wit,  that  we  should  have  Pardon,  by  Word  and  Deed;  by 
Word,  that  is,  by  the  promise ;  by  Deed,  to  wit,  in  the 
way  it  was  obtained.  What  the  promise  is,  of  that  I  know 
something :  but  what  is  it  to  have  Pardon  by  deed,  or  in 
the  way  that  it  was  obtained,  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  suppose 
you  know  ;  wherefore  if  you  please  let  us  hear  your  discourse 
thereof. 


GREAT-HEARTS   DISCOURSE  249 

GREAT-HEART.    Pardon    by    the    deed    done,    is    Pardon 
obtained  by  some  one  for  another  that  hath  need  thereof. 
Not  by  the  Person  pardoned,  but  in  the  way,     ^  comment 
saith  another,  in  which  I  have  obtained  it.     So     w*°.n  f'^jff 

3  t  said  at  the  Gate, 

then,  to  speak  to  the  question  more  large,  the     or  a  discourse 
pardon  that  you  and  Mercy  and   these   Boys    ^ustifiuiblj 
have  attained  was  obtained  by  another,  to  wit,     c/hrist- 
by  him  that  let  you  in  at  the  Gate.     And  he  hath  obtained 
it  in  this  double  way.     He  has  performed  Righteousness  to 
cover  you,  and  spilt  blood  to  wash  you  in. 

CHRIS.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  Righteousness  to  us,  what 
will  he  have  for  himself? 

GREAT-HEART.  He  has  more  Righteousness  than  you  have 
need  of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself. 

CHRIS.  Pray  make  that  appear. 

GREAT-HEART.  With  all  my  heart ;  but  first  I  must  premise 
that  he  of  whom  we  are  now  about  to  speak,  is  one  that  has 
not  his  Fellow.  He  has  two  Natures  in  one  Person,  plain  to 
be  distinguished,  impossible  to  be  divided.  Unto  each  of  these 
Natures  a  Righteousness  belongeth,  and  each  Righteousness  is 
essential  to  that  Nature.  So  that  one  may  as  easily  cause  the 
nature  to  be  extinct,  as  to  separate  its  Justice  or  Righteous- 
ness from  it.  Of  these  Righteousnesses  therefore,  we  are 
not  made  partakers  so  as  that  they  or  any  of  them  should  be 
put  upon  us  that  we  might  be  made  just,  and  live  thereby. 
Besides  these  there  is  a  Righteousness  which  this  Person  has 
as  these  two  Natures  are  joyned  in  one.  And  this  is  not  the 
Righteousness  of  the  Godhead,  as  distinguished  from  the  Man- 
hood; nor  the  Righteousness  of  the  Manhood,  as  distinguished 
from  the  Godhead;  but  a  Righteousness  which  standeth  in 
the  Union  of  both  Natures  ;  and  may  properly  be  called  the 
Righteousness  that  is  essential  to  his  being  prepared  of  God 
to  the  capacity  of  the  Mediatory  Office  which  he  was  to  be 
intrusted  with.  If  he  parts  with  his  first  Righteousness,  he 


250  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

parts  with  his  Godhead ;  if  he  parts  with  his  second  Righteous- 
ness, he  parts  with  the  purity  of  his  Manhood  ,•  if  he  parts 
with  this  third,  he  parts  with  that  perfection  that  capacitates 
him  to  the  Office  of  Mediation.  He  has  therefore  another 
Righteousness  which  standeth  in  performance,  or  obedience 
to  a  revealed  Will ;  and  that  is  it  that  he  puts  upon  Sinners, 
and  that  by  which  their  Sins  are  covered.  Wherefore 
he  saith,  as  by  one  mans  disobedience  many  were  made 
Sinners :  so  by  the  obedience  of  one  shall  many  be  made 
Righteous. 

o 

CHRIS.  But  are  the  other  Righteousnesses  of  no  use  to 
us  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes,  for  though  they  are  essential  to  his 
Natures  and  Office,  and  so  cannot  be  communicated  unto 
another,  yet  it  is  by  Virtue  of  them,  that  the  Righteousness 
that  j  ustifies  is  for  that  purpose  efficacious.  The  Righteousness 
of  his  Godhead  gives  Virtue  to  his  Obedience  ;  the  Righteous- 
ness of  his  Manhood  giveth  capability  to  his  obedience 
to  justify,  and  the  Righteousness  that  standeth  in  the 
Union  of  these  two  Natures  to  his  Office,  giveth  Authority 
to  that  Righteousness  to  do  the  work  for  which  it  is 
ordained. 

So  then,  here  is  a  Righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God,  has  no 
need  of,  for  he  is  God  without  it :  here  is  a  Righteousness 
that  Christ,  as  Man,  has  no  need  of  to  make  him  so,  for  he 
is  perfect  man  without  it.  Again,  here  is  a  Righteousness 
that  Christ  as  God-man  has  no  need  of,  for  he  is  perfectly  so 
without  it.  Here  then  is  a  Righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God, 
as  Man,  as  God-man  has  no  need  of,  with  Reference  to  him- 
self, and  therefore  he  can  spare  it,  a  justifying  Righteousness, 
that  he  for  himself  wanteth  not,  and  therefore  he  giveth  it 
away.  Hence  'tis  called  the  gift  of  Righteousness.  This 
Righteousness,  since  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord,  has  made  himself 
under  the  Law,  must  be  given  away.  For  the  Law  doth  not 


THE   GIFT   OF   RIGHTEOUSNESS  251 

only  bind  him  that  is  under  it  to  do  justly,  but  to  use  Charity. 
Wherefore  he  must,  he  ought  by  the  Law,  if  he  hath  two 
Coats,  to  give  one  to  him  that  hath  none.  Now  our  Lord 
indeed  hath  two  Coats,  one  for  himself,  and  one  to  spare. 
Wherefore  he  freely  bestows  one  upon  those  that  have  none. 
And  thus  Christiana,  and  Mercy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that  are 
here,  doth  your  Pardon  come  by  deed,  or  by  the  work  of 
another  man  ?  Your  Lord  Christ  is  he  that  has  worked,  and 
has  given  away  what  he  wrought  for  to  the  next  poor  Beggar 
he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed,  there  must  some- 
thing be  paid  to  God  as  a  price,  as  well  as  something  prepared 
to  cover  us  withal.  Sin  has  delivered  us  up  to  the  just  curse 
of  a  Righteous  Law.  Now  from  this  curse  we  must  be  j  ustified 
by  way  of  Redemption,  a  price  being  paid  for  the  harms  we 
have  done,  and  this  is  by  the  Blood  of  your  Lord,  who  came 
and  stood  in  your  place  and  stead,  and  died  your  death  for 
your  Transgressions.  Thus  has  he  ransomed  you  from  your 
Transgressions,  by  Blood,  and  covered  your  polluted  and 
deformed  Souls  with  Righteousness :  for  the  sake  of  which, 
God  passeth  by  you,  and  will  not  hurt  you,  when  he  comes 
to  Judge  the  World. 

CHRIS.   This  is  brave.     Now  I  see  that  there  was  something 
to  be  learnt  by  our  being  pardoned  by  word  and     Christiana 
deed.     Good  Mercy,  let  us  labour  to  keep  this  in 
mind,  and  my  Children  do  you  remember  it  also.     Redemption. 
But,  Sir,  was  not    this   it    that   made   my  good   Christian's 
Burden  fall  from  off  his  Shoulder,  and  that  made  him  give 
three  leaps  for  Joy  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes,  'twas  the  belief  of  this  that  cut  those 
Strings  that  could  not  be  cut  by  other  means,  HOW  the  strings 
and  'twas  to  give  him  a  proof  of  the  Virtue  of 


this,  that  he  was  suffered  to  carry  his  burden  to     burden  to  him 

ioc re  cut. 

the  Cross. 

K3 


252  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

CHRIS.  /  thought  so,  for  tho    my  heart  was  lightful  and 

joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten  times  more  lightsome  and  joyous 

now.     And  I  am  perswaded  by  what  I  hare  felt,  the?  I  have 

felt  but  little  as  yet,  that  if  the  most  burdened  Man   in  the 

World  was  here,  and  did  see  and  believe,  as  I  now  do,  "'twould 

make  his  heart  the  more  merry  and  blithe. 

GREAT-HEART.  There  is  not  only  comfort,  and  the  ease  of 
a  Burden  brought  to  us,  by  the  sight  and  Con- 

How  affection  '      . 

sidcration  of  these;  but  an  indeared  Affection 


begot  in  us  by  it.  For  who  can,  if  he  doth  but 
once  think  that  Pardon  comes  not  only  by  promise  but  thus, 
but  be  affected  with  the  way  and  means  of  his  Redemption, 
and  so  with  the  man  that  hath  wrought  it  for  him  ? 

CHRIS.  True,  nwthinks  it  makes  my  Heart  bleed  to  think 
that  he  should  bleed  for  me.  Oh!  thou  loving  one,  Oh!  thou 
Cause  of  ad-  Blessed  one.  Thou  deservest  to  have  me,  thou 

hast  bought  me  :  Thou  deservest  to  have  me  all, 
thou  hast  paid  for  me  ten  thousand  times  more  than  I  am 
i  part,  page  46.  worth.  No  marvel  that  this  made  the  water  stand 
in  my  Husband'1  s  Eyes,  and  that  it  made  him  trudge  so 
nimbly  ou.  I  am  perswaded  he  wislied  me  with  him  ;  but  vile 
Wretch,  that  I  was,  I  let  him  come  all  alone.  O  Mercy,  that 
thy  Father  and  Mother  were  here,  yea,  and  Mrs.  Timorous 
also.  Nay,  I  wish  now  with  all  my  Heart,  that  here  tvas 
Madam  AVanton  too.  Surely,  surely,  their  Hearts  would 
be  ajfected,  nor  could  the  fear  of  the  one,  nor  the  powerful 
Lusts  of  the  other,  prevail  with  them  to  go  home  again,  and  to 
refuse  to  become  good  Pilgrims. 

GREAT-HEART.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of  your 
Affections  :  will  it,  think  you,  be  always  thus  with  you  ? 

•/  •'  »' 

Besides,  this  is  not  communicated  to  every  one,  nor  to  every 
one  that  did  see  your  Jesus  bleed.     There  was  that  stood  by. 

V  •/      ' 

nnd  that  saw  the  Blood  run  from  his  heart  to  the  Ground, 
and  yet  were  so  far  off  this,  that  instead  of  lamenting,  they 


SLOTH   AND   FOLLY  253 

laughed  at  him,  and  instead  of  becoming  his  Disciples,  did 
harden  their  hearts  against  him.     So  that  all 

To  be  affected 

that  you  have,  my  Daughters,  you  have  by  a     with  Christ  and 

-,  .  .  ,  TX«    •  with  what  he 

peculiar    impression    made    by   a   Divine    con-     has  done  is  a 

templating  upon  what  I  have  spoken  to  you.     thing  special. 
Remember  that  'twas  told  you,  that  the  Hen  by  her  common 
call,  gives  no  meat  to  her  Chickens.     This  you  have  therefore 
Jjy  a  special  Grace. 

Now  I  saw  still  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  on  until  they 
were  come  to  the  place,  that  Simple,  and  Sloth,     simple  and 
and  Presumption  lay  and  slept  in,  when  Chris-     siothand 

i-  L  i  '  -n-l       •  A     J  u   I.    u  j.i  Presumption 

tian  went  by  on  Pilgrimage.     And  behold  they     hanged,  and 
were  hanged  up  in  Irons  a  little  way  off  on  the 
other-side. 

MERCY.    Then  said  Mercy  to  him  that  was  their  Guide  and 

•/ 

Conductor,  What  are  those  three  men  ?  and  for  what  are  they 
hanged  there  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  These  three  men,  were  Men  of  very  bad 
Qualities  :  they  had  no  mind  to  be  Pilgrims  themselves,  and 
whosoever  they  could  they  hindered  ;  they  were  for  sloth  and 
folly  themselves,  and  whoever  they  could  perswade  with,  they 
made  so  too,  and  withal  taught  them  to  presume  that  they 
should  do  well  at  last.  They  were  asleep  when  Christian  went 
by,  and  now  you  go  by  they  are  hanged1. 

MERCY.  But  could  they  perswade  any  to  be  of  their  Opinion? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes,  they  turned  several  out   of  the  wav. 
There  was  Slow-pace  that  they  perswaded  to  do     Their  crimes. 
as  they.     They  also  prevailed  with  one  Short-     who  they  pre- 
wind,  with  one  No-heart,  with  one  Linger-after-     ^ailed  UP°"*° 

o         «/  turn  out  oftha 

lust,  and  with  one  Sleepy  -head,  and  with  a  young 


1  Behold  here  how  the  slothful  are  a  sign 
Hung  tf/>,  *cause  holy  ways  they  did  decline. 
See  here  too  how  the  Child  doth  play  the  man 
And  weak  grow  islrony,  when  Great-heart  leads  the   Van. 


254  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Woman  her  name  was  Dull,  to  turn  out  of  the  way  and 
become  as  they.  Besides,  they  brought  up  an  ill-report  of 
your  Lord,  perswading  others  that  he  was  a  task-Master. 
They  also  brought  up  an  evil  report  of  the  good  Land,  saying, 
'twas  not  half  so  good  as  some  pretend  it  was.  They  also 
began  to  vilify  his  Servants,  and  to  count  the  very  best  of 
them  meddlesome,  troublesome  busy-Bodies.  Further,  they 
wrould  call  the  Bread  of  God  Husks ;  the  Comforts  of  his 
Children  Fancies  ;  the  Travel  and  Labour  of  Pilgrims  things 
to  no  Purpose. 

CHRIS.  Nay,  said  Christiana,  if  they  were  such,  they  shall 
never  be  bewailed  by  me  ,•  they  have  but  what  they  deserve,  and 
1  think  it  is  well  that  they  hang  so  near  the  High-way  that 
others  may  see  and  take  warning.  But  had  it  not  been  well  if 
their  Crimes  had  been  ingraven  in  some  Plate  of  Iron  or  Brass, 
and  left  here,  even  where  they  did  their  Mischiefs,  for  a  caution 
to  other  bad  Men. 

GREAT-HEART.  So  it  is,  as  you  well  may  perceive  if  you  will 
go  a  little  to  the  Wall. 

MERCY.  No,  no,  let  them  hang,  and  their  Names  Rot,  and 

their  Crimes  live  for  ever  against   them.     I  think  it  a  high 

favour  that  they  were  hanged  afore  we  came  hither,  who  knows 

else  what  they  might  a  done  to  such  poor  women  as  we  are  ? 

Then  she  turned  it  into  a  Song,  saying, 

Now  then  you  three,  hang  there  and  be  a  Sign 
To  all  that  shall  against  the  Truth  combine  : 
And  let  him  that  comes  after  fear  this  end, 
If  unto  Pilgrims  he  is  not  a  Friend. 

And  thou  my  Soul  of  all  such  men  beware, 
That  unto  Holiness  Opposers  are. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  at  the  foot  of  the  Hill 
i  part,  page  52.     Difficulty.     Where   again    their    good    Friend, 


THE   HILL   DIFFICULTY  255 

Mr.    Great-heart   took    an    occasion   to   tell   them    of  what 
happened  there   when  Christian  himself  went     ,Ti3 


by.     So  he  had  them  first  to  the  Spring.     Lo,     getting  of  good 

J  7     .  Doctrine  in 

saith  he,  This  is  the  Spring  that  Christian  drank  erroneous 
of  before  he  went  up  this  Hill,  and  then  'twas 
clear,  and  good;  but  now  'tis  Dirty  with  the  feet  of 
some  that  are  not  desirous  that  Pilgrims  here  should 
quench  their  Thirst.  Thereat  Mercy  said,  And  why  so 
envious  tro9  But  said  their  Guide,  It  will  do,  if  taken 
up,  and  put  into  a  Vessel  that  is  sweet  and  good  ;  for 
then  the  Dirt  will  sink  to  the  bottom,  and  the  Water 
come  out  by  itself  more  clear.  Thus  therefore  Christiana 
and  her  Companions  were  compelled  to  do.  They  took 
it  up,  and  put  it  into  an  Earthen-pot,  and  so  let  it  stand 
till  the  Dirt  was  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  then  they  drank 
thereof. 

Next  he  shewed  them  the  two  by-ways  that  were  at  the 
foot  of  the  Hill,  where  Formality  and  Hypo-     R  _  athg  tho, 
crisy,  lost  themselves.     And,  said  he,  these  are     barred  up  will 
dangerous    Paths.     Two   were  here   cast  away     fronting  in 
when  Christian  came  by.     And   although,    as     them- 

•  .  i  part,  page  53. 

you    see,   these   ways  are  since   stopt  up  with 

Chains,  Posts,  and  a  Ditch,  yet  there  are  that  will  chuse  to 

adventure  here,  rather  than  take  the   pains  to  go  up  this 

Hill. 

CHRIS.  The  Way  of  Transgressors  is  hard.  'Tis  a  wonder 
that  they  can  get  into  those  ways,  without  danger  of  breaking 
their  Necks. 

GREATHEART.  They  will  venture  ;  yea,  if  at  any  time  any 
of  the  King's  Servants  doth  happen  to  see  them,  and  doth 
call  unto  them,  and  tell  them  that  they  are  in  the  wrong 
ways,  and  do  bid  them  beware  the  danger  ;  then  they  will 
railingly  return  them  answer  and  say,  As  for  the  Word  that 
thou  hast  spoken  unto  us  in  the  name  of  the  King,  we  will  not 


25(5  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

hearken  unto  thee  ,•  but  we  will  certainly  do  whatsoever  thing' 
goeth  out  of  our  own  Mouths,  £c.  Nay  if  you  look  a  little 
farther,  you  shall  see  that  these  ways,  are  made  cautionary 

'       J  «/  W 

enough,  not  only  by  these  Posts,  and  Ditch  and  Chain  •  but 
also  by  being  hedged  up.     Yet  they  will  choose  to  go  there. 
CHRIS.   They  are  Idle,  they  love  not  to  take  Pains,  vp-hiU- 
TJte  reason  why     way  is  unpleasant  to  them.    So  it  is  fulfilled  unto 

t°0mgo  dinb*r  them  a*  {i  •'*  Written.  The  way  of  the  slothful 
™ays-  man  is  a  Hedge  of  Thorns.  Yea,  they  will  rather 

chuse  to  walk  upon  a  Snare  than  to  go  np  this  Hill,  and  the 
rest  of  this  way  to  the  City. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up  the  Hill,  and 
up  the  Hill  they  went ;    but   before  thev  got 

The  Hill  puts  .J  *     to 

the  Piiffrims  to  to  the  top,  Llirtstiana  began  to  rant,  and  said, 
I  daresay  this  is  a  breathing  Hill ;  no  marvel  if 
they  that  love  their  ease  more  than  their  Souls,  chuse  to 
themselves  a  smoother  way.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  must  sit 
down  ;  also  the  least  of  the  Children  began  to  cry.  Come, 
come,  said  Great-heart,  sit  not  down  here,  for  a  little  above 
is  the  Prince's  Arbor.  Then  took  he  the  little  Bov  bv  the 

*  v 

Hand,  and  led  him  up  thereto. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  Arbor,  thev  were  very  willing; 

•/  J  J  O 

They  sit  in  th*  to  sit  down,  for  they  were  al1  in  a  pelting  heat. 
Arbor.  Then  said  Mercy,  How  sweet  is  rest  to  them 

that  Labour?  And  how  good  is  the  Prince  of 
Pilgrims,  to  provide  such  resting  places  for  them  ?  Of  this 
Arbor  I  have  heard  much  ;  but  I  never  saw  it  before.  But 
here  let  us  beware  of  sleeping :  for  as  I  have  heard,  for  that 
it  cost  poor  Christian  dear. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  little  ones,  Come  my 
pretty  Boys,  how  do  you  do?  what  think  vou  now  of  going 
The  little  Boys  on  Pilgrimage  ?  Sir,  said  the  least.  I  was 
"jitide* and  also  almost  beat  out  of  heart ;  but  I  thank  vou  for 
to  Mercy.  lending  me  a  hand  at  my  need.  And  I  remem- 


CHRISTIANAS   BOTTLE   FORGOTTEN       257 

her  now  what  my  Mother  has  told  me,  namely,  That  the  way 
to  Heaven  is  as  up  a  Ladder,  and  the  way  to  Hell  is  as  down 
a  Hill.  But  I  had  rather  go  up  the  Ladder  to  Life,  than 
down  the  Hill  to  Death. 

Then  said  Mercy,  But  the  Proverb  is,  To  go  down  the  Hill 

is   easy.     But    James   said    (for   that    was    his 

&  ...  .  Which  is  hard- 

Name)  The. day  is  coming  when  in  my  Opinion,     estupHiii,or 

going"  down   Hill   will   be    the    hardest    of  all. 

*Tis  a  good    Boy,   said  his  Master,  thou  hast  given  her  a 

right  answer.     Then  Mercy  smiled,  but  the  little  Boy  did 

blush. 

CHRIS.  Come,  said  Christiana,  will  you  eat  a  bit,  a  little  to 
sweeten  your  Mouths,  while  you  sit  here  to  rest  They  refresh 
your  Legs  ?  For  I  have  here  a  piece  of  Pom- 
granate  which  Mr.  Interpreter  put  in  my  Hand,  just  when 
I  came  out  of  his  Doors ;  he  gave  me  also  a  piece  of  an 
Honey-comb,  and  a  little  Bottle  of  Spirits.  I  thought  he 
gave  you  something,  said  Mercy,  because  he  called  you 
a  to-side.  Yes,  so  he  did,  said  the  other.  But  Mercy,  it 
shall  still  be  as  I  said  it  should,  when  at  first  we  came  from 
home  :  thou  shalt  be  a  sharer  in  all  the  good  that  I  have, 
because  thou  so  willingly  didst  become  my  Companion. 
Then  she  gave  to  them,  and  they  did  eat,  both  Mercy,  and 
the  Boys.  And  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Great-heart,  Sir 
will  you  do  as  we  ?  But  he  answered,  You  are  going  on 
Pilgrimage,  and  presently  I  shall  return  ;  much  Good  may 
what  you  have,  do  to  you.  At  home  I  eat  the  same  every 
day.  Now  when  they  had  eaten  and  drank,  and  had 
chatted  a  little  longer,  their  guide  said  to  them,  The  day 
wears  away,  if  you  think  good,  let  us  prepare  to  be  going. 
So  they  got  up  to  go,  and  the  little  Boys  went  before ;  But 
Christiana  foreat  to  take  her  Bottle  of  Spirits 

&  Christiana  jvr- 

with  her,  so   she  sent  her  little   Boy   back   to     gets  her  Bottle 

v  ^    Cl        •       *± 

fetch    it,      Then   said    Mercy,  I  think  this   is 


258  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

a  losing  Place.  Here  Christian  lost  his  Roll,  and  here 
Christiana  left  her  Bottle  behind  her ;  Sir,  what  is  the  cause 
of  this  ?  so  their  guide  made  answer  and  said,  The  cause  is 
sleep  or  forgetfulness  ,•  some  sleep,  when  they  should  keep 
awake;  and  some  forget,  when  they  should  remember;  and 
this  is  the  very  cause  why  often  at  the  resting  places  some 
Mark  this.  Pilgrims  in  some  things  come  ofFlosers.  Pilgrims 

should  "watch  and  remember  what  they  have  already  received 
under  their  greatest  enjoyments.  But  for  want  of  doing  so, 
oft  times  their  rejoicing  ends  in  Tears,  and  their  Sunshine 
i part,  page  55.  in  a  Cloud  :  witness  the  story  of  Christian  at 

»' 

this  place. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  Mistrust  and 
Timorous  met  Christian  to  perswade  him  to  go  back  for  fear 
of  the  Lions,  they  perceived  as  it  were  a  Stage,  and  before  it 
towards  the  Road,  a  broad  plate  with  a  Copy  of  Verses 
written  thereon,  and  underneath,  the  reason  of  raising  up  of 
that  Stage  in  that  place,  rendered.  The  Verses  were  these. 

Let  him  that  sees  this  Stage  take  heed 
Unto  his  Heart  and  Tongue : 
Lest,  if  he  do  not,  here  lie  speed 
As  some  have  long  agone. 

The  words  underneath  the  Verses  were,  This  Stage  was 
built  to  punish  such  upon  who  through  Timorousness  or  Mis- 
trust, shall  be  afraid  to  go  further  on  Pilgrimage.  Aho  on 
this  Stage  both  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were  burned  thorough 
the  Tongue  with  an  hot  Iron,  for  endeavouring  to  hinder 
Christian  in  his  Journey. 

Then  said  Mercy.  This  is  much  like  to  the  saying  of  the 
beloved,  What  shall  be  given  unto  thee  ?  or  what  shall  be  done 
unto  thee  thou  false  Tongue?  sharp  Arrows  of  the  mighty, 
with  Coals  of  < Juniper. 


OF   GRIM   THE   GIANT  259 

So  they  went  on,  till  they  came  within  sight  of  the  Lions. 
Now  Mr.  Great-heart  was  a  strong  man,  so  he  i  part,  page  57. 
was  not  afraid  of  a  Lion.  But  yet  when  they  An  Emblem  of 
were  come  up  to  the  place  where  the  Lions  those  that  go  on 

bravely  when 

were,  the  Boys  that  went  before  were  glad  to     there  is  no 
cringe    behind,   for    they    were    afraid   of  the     shrS token 
Lions,  so  they  stept  back  and  went  behind.     At     troubles  come- 
this  their  guide  smiled,  and  said,  How  now  my  Boys,  do  you 
love  to  go  before  when  no  danger  doth  approach,  and  love 
to  come  behind  so  soon  as  the  Lions  appear  ? 

Now  as  they  went  up,  Mr.  Great-heart  drew  his  Sword  with 
intent  to  make  a  way  for  the  Pilgrims  in  spite  of  the  Lions. 
Then  there  appeared  one,  that  it  seems,  had  of  Grim  the 
taken  upon  him  to  back  the  Lions.  And  he 
said  to  the  Pilgrims'*  guide,  What  is  the  cause  Lions. 
of  your  coming  hither  ?  Now  the  name  of  that  man  was 
Grim,  or  Bloody '-man,  because  of  his  slaying  of  Pilgrims,  and 
he  was  of  the  race  of  the  Giants. 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  the  Pilgrims'  guide,  These 
Women  and  Children  are  going  on  Pilgrimage,  and  this  is  the 
way  they  must  go,  and  go  it  they  shall  in  spite  of  thee  and 
the  Lions. 

GRIM.  This  is  not  their  way,  neither  shall  they  go  therein. 
I  am  come  forth  to  withstand  them,  and  to  that  end  will  back 
the  Lions. 

Now  to  say  truth,  by  reason  of  the  fierceness  of  the  Lions, 
and  of  the  Grim  Carriage  of  him  that  did  back  them,  this 
way  had  of  late  lain  much  unoccupied,  and  was  almost  all 
grown  over  with  Grass. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  tho'  the  Highways  have  been 
unoccupied  heretofore,  and  tho1  the  Travellers  have  been 
made  in  time  past  to  walk  thorough  by-Paths,  it  must  not  be 
so  now  I  am  risen,  Now  I  am  risen  a  Mother  in  Israel. 

GRIM.    Then  he  swore  by  the  Lions,  but  it  should  ;   and.. 


2(50  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

therefore  bid    them    turn    aside,  for  they   should  not  have 
passage  there. 

GREAT-HEART.    But  their  guide  made  first  his  Approach 
unto  Grim,  and  laid  so  heavily  at  him  with  his  Sword,  that 

«/ 

he  forced  him  to  a  retreat. 

GRIM.  Then  said  he  (that  attempted  to  back  the  Lions) 
will  you  slay  me  upon  mine  own  Ground  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  'Tis  the  King's  High-way  that  we  are  in, 

A  n  htbettvixt      an(^  ni  ^s  wa^  ^  *s  that  thou  hast  placed  thy 
Grim  and  Lions  ;   but  these  Women,  and  these  Children, 

tho"*  weak,  shall  hold  on  their  way  in  spite  of 
thy  Lions.  And  with  that  he  gave  him  again  a  down-right 
blow,  and  brought  him  upon  his  Knees.  With  this  blow  he 
also  broke  his  Helmet,  and  with  the  next  he  cut  off*  an  Arm. 
Then  did  the  Giant  Roar  so  hideously,  that  his  Voice  frighted 
the  Women,  and  yet  they  were  glad  to  see  him  lie  sprawling 
The  Victory.  upon  the  Ground.  Now  the  Lions  were  chained, 
and  so  of  themselves  could  do  nothing.  Wherefore  when  old 
Grim  that  intended  to  back  them  was  dead,  Mr.  Great-heart 
said  to  the  Pilgrims,  Come  now  and  follow  me,  and  no  hurt 
Then  pass  by  shall  happen  to  you  from  the  Lions.  They  there- 
tfie  Lions.  fore  wen^  on  .  \yu^  ^he  Women  trembled  as  they 

» 

passed  by  them,  the  Boys  also  look't  as  if  they  would  die; 
but  they  all  got  by  without  further  hurt. 

Now  then  they  were  within  SmTit  of  the  Porter''*  Lodge, 

*  o  o 

and  they  soon  came  up  unto  it ;  but  they  made  the  more 
haste  after  this  to  go  thither,  because  'tis  dangerous  travelling 

O  '  O  O 

there  in  the  Night.     So  when  they  were  come 

The ij  come  fo  J 

the  Porter's  to  the  Gate,  the  guide  knocked,  and  the  Porter 

cried,  who  ?'.v  there?  but  as  soon  as  the  Guide 
had  said,  it  Is  /,  he  knew  his  Voice  and  came  down.  (For 
the  Guide  had  oft  before  that  come  thither  as  a  Conductor 
of  Pilgrims.)  When  he  was  come  down,  he  opened  the  Gate, 
and  seeing  the  Guide  standing  just  before  it  (for  he  *uw  not 


MR.    GREAT-HEART   GOES   BACK          263 

the  Women,  for  they  were  behind  him)  he  said  unto  him, 
How  now,  Mr.  Great-heart,  what  is  your  business  here  so  late 
to  Night  ?  I  have  brought,  said  he,  some  Pilgrims  hither, 
where  by  my  Lord's  Commandment,  they  must  Lodge.  I  had 
been  here  some  time  ago,  had  I  not  been  opposed  by  the 
Giant  that  did  use  to  back  the  Lions.  But  I  after  a  long  and 
tedious  combat  with  him,  have  cut  him  off,  and  have  brought 
the  Pilgrims  hither  in  safety. 

PORTER.    Will  you  not  go  in,  and  stay  till  Morning  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  No,  I  will  return  to  my  Lord     Great-heart 
to  night.  .  lf™pts to  9° 

CHRIS.  Oh  Sir,  I  know  not  how  to  be  willing 

The  Pilgrims 

you    should   leave  us    in  our   Pilgrimage,   you     implore  his 
have  been  so  faithful,  and  so  loving  to  us,  you 
have  fought  so  stoutly  for  us,  you  have  been  so  hearty  in 
counselling   of  us,   that   I  shall  never    forget    your    favour 
towards  us. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  O  that  we  might  have  thy  Com- 
pany to  our  Journey's  end !  How  can  such  poor  Women  as 
we  hold  out  in  a  way  so  full  of  Troubles  as  this  way  is, 
without  a  Friend  and  Defender  ? 

JAMES.  Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the  Boys,  Pray 
Sir,  be  perswaded  to  go  with  us,  and  help  us,  because  we  are 
so  weak,  and  the  way  so  dangerous  as  it  is. 

GREAT-HEART.    I  am    at   my  Lord's    Commandment.      If 
he  shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite  thorough,  I  will 
willingly  wait  upon  you.     But  here  you  failed     Rel     lost  „  r 
at  first;    for  when  he  bid   me  come  thus  far     want  of  asking 

for 

with  you,  then  you  should  have  begged  me  of 
him  to  have  gone  quite  thorough  with  you,  and  he  would 
have  granted    your    request.     However,  at  present  I   must 
withdraw,  and  so    good    Christiajia,  Mercy,  and   my   brave 
Children,  Adieu. 
Then  the  Porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Chris-     part  i,  page  59. 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

tiana  of  her  Country,  and    of  her  Kindred,  and  she    said, 

•/  * 

Christiana  ^  came  from    the    City   of  Destruction,  I   am 

makes  hen-elf       a  Widow  Woman,  and  mil  Husband  is  dead,  his 

known  to  the  /~n     •     •  *"        •?      • 

Porter,  he  tells  Name  was  Christian  the  Pilgrim.  How,  said 
the  Porter,  was  lie  your  Husband  ?  Yes,  said 
she,  and  these  are  his  Children  ;  and  this,  pointing  to  Mercy, 
is  one  of  my  Town's- Women.  Then  the  Porter  rang  his  Bell, 
as  at  such  times  lie  is  wont,  and  there  came  to  the  Door  one 
of  the  Damsels  whose  Name  was  Humble-mind.  And  to  her 
the  Porter  said,  Go  tell  it  within  that  Christiana  the  Wife  of 
Christian  and  her  Children  are  come  hither  on  Pilgrimage. 
7  She  went  in  therefore  and  told  it.  But  Oh, 

Joy  at  the  noise 

of  the  Pilgrims     what   a  Noise   for  gladness   was  there  within, 
when  the  Damsel  did  but  drop  that  word  out 
of  her  Mouth  ? 

So  they  came  with  haste  to  the  Porter,  for  Christiana  stood 

•/ 

still  at  the  Door.  Then  some  of  the  most  grave  said  unto 
her,  Come  in  Christiana,  come  in  thou  Wife  of  that  Good  Man, 
come  in  thou  Blessed  Woman,  come  in  with  all  that  are  with 
thcc.  So  she  went  in,  and  they  followed  her  that  were  her 

•/ 

Children,  and  her  Companions.  Now  when  they  were  gone 
in,  they  were  had  into  a  very  large  Room,  where  they  were 
bidden  to  sit  down.  So  they  sat  down,  and  the  chief  of  the 
Christians  love  House  was  called  to  see,  and  welcome  the  Guests. 

iSightofonethe  Then  theJ  came  in>  lllld>  understanding  who 
another.  they  were,  did  salute  each  other  with  a  kiss, 

and  said,  Welcome  ve  Vessels  of  the  Grace  of  God,  welcome 

^ 

to  us  vour  Friends. 

•/ 

Now  because  it  was  somewhat  late,  and  because  the  Pil- 
grims were  weary  with  their  Journey,  and  also  made  faint 

*/  +>  * 

with  the  sight  of  the  fight,  and  of  the  terrible  Lions ;  there- 
fore they  desired  as  soon  as  might  be,  to  prepare  to  go  to 
Rest.  Nay,  said  those  of  the  Family,  refresh  yourselves  first 
with  a  morsel  of  Meat.  For  they  had  prepared  for  them 


MERCYS   DREAM  265 

a  Lamb,  with  the  accustomed  Sauce  belonging  thereto.  For 
the  Porter  had  heard  before  of  their  coming,  and  had  told 
it  to  them  within.  So  when  they  had  supped,  and  ended 
their  Prayer  with  a  Psalm,  they  desired  they  might  go  to  rest. 
But  let  us,  said  Christiana,  if  we  may  be  so  bold  as  to  chuse, 
be  in  that  Chamber  that  was  my  Husband's,  i  part,  page  65. 
when  he  was  here.  So  they  had  them  up  thither,  and  they 
lay  all  in  a  Room.  When  they  were  at  Rest,  Christiana 
and  Mercy  entred  into  discourse  about  things  that  were 
convenient. 

CHRIS.  Little  did  I  think'  once,  that  when  my  Husband  went 
on  Pilgrimage,  I  should  ever  a  followed. 

MERCY.    And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying     Crisis  Bosom 
in  his  Bed,  and  in  his  Chamber  to  Rest,  as  you     is  for  all 

1  Pilgrims. 

do  now. 

CHRIS.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of  seeing  his  Face 
with  Comfort,  and  of  worshipping  the  Lord  the  King  with  him, 
and  yet  now  I  believe  I  shall. 

MERCY.  Hark,  don't  you  hear  a  Noise  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes,  ''tis  as  I  believe,  a  Noise  of  Musick,  for  joy 
that  we  are  here. 

MERCY.  Wonderful !    Musick  in  the  House,     Mustek. 
Musick  in   the  Heart,  and  Musick   also  in  Heaven,  for  joy 
that  we  are  here. 

Thus  they  talked  a  while,  and  then  betook  themselves  to 
sleep ;  so  in  the  Morning,  when  they  were  awake,  Christiana 
said  to  Mercy. 

CHRIS.    What    was    the  matter  that   you  did 

J  Mercy  did 

laugh  in  your  sleep  to  Night  ?    I  suppose  you     laugh  in  her 

T\  a  sleep. 

was  in  a  Dream  ? 

MERCY.  So  I  was,  and  a  sweet  Dream  it  was ;  but  are  you 
sure  I  laughed  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes,  you  laughed  heartily  ;  bid  prithee  Mercy  tell  vie 
thy  Dream  ? 


266  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

MERCY.  I  was  a  dreamed  that  I  sat  all  alone  in  a  solitary 
Mercy's  place,   and   was    bemoaning    of  the   hardness   of 


Dream. 


Now  I  had  not  sat  there  long,  but  methought  many  were 
gathered  about  me,  to  see  me,  and  to  hear  what  it  was  that 
I  said.  So  they  hearkened,  and  I  went  on  bemoaning  the 
hardness  of  my  Heart.  At  this,  some  of  them  laughed  at  me, 
some  called  me  Fool,  and  some  began  to  thrust  me  about. 
^viiat  her  With  that,  methought  I  looked  up,  and  saw 

dream  was.  one  COming  with  Wings  towards  me.  So  he 
came  directly  to  me,  and  said,  Mercy,  what  aileth  thee  ? 
Now  when  he  had  heard  me  make  my  complaint,  he  said, 
Peace  be  to  thee  :  he  also  wiped  mine  Eyes  with  his  Hand- 
kerchief, and  clad  me  in  Silver  and  Gold;  he  put  a  chain 
about  my  Neck,  and  Ear-rings  in  mine  Ears,  and  a  beautiful 
Crown  upon  my  Head.  Then  he  took  me  by  the  Hand, 
and  said,  Mercy^  come  after  me.  So  he  went  up,  and 
I  followed,  till  we  came  at  a  Golden  Gate.  Then  he 
knocked,  and  when  they  within  had  opened,  the  man  went  in 
and  I  followed  him  up  to  a  Throne,  upon  which  one  sat,  and 
he  said  to  me,  welcome  Daughter.  The  place  looked  bright, 
and  twinkling  like  the  Stars,  or  rather  like  the  Sun,  and 
I  thought  that  I  saw  your  Husband  there,  so  I  awoke  from 
my  Dream.  But  did  I  laugh  ? 

CHRIS.  Laugh  !  Ay,  and  well  you  might  to  see  yourself  so 
well.  For  you  must  give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  that  I  believe  it 
was  a  good  Dream,  and  that  as  you  have  begun  to  find  the 
Jirst  part  true,  so  you  shall  Jind  the  second  at  last.  God 
speaks  once,  yea  twice,  yet  Man  perceiveth  it  not.  In  a 
Dream,  in  a  Vision  of  the  Night,  when  deep  Sleep  falleth 
upon  Men,  in  slumbring  upon  the  Bed.  We  need  not,  when 
a-Bed,  lie  awake  to  talk  with  God.  He  can  visit  us  while  we 
sleep,  and  cause  us  then  to  hear  his  Voice.  Our  Heart  oft 
times  wakes  when  we  skep,  and  God  can  speak  to  that,  either 


THE   VISIT   PROLONGED  267 

by   Words,  by  Proverbs,  by  Signs,  and  Similitudes,  as  well 
as  if  one  was  awake. 

MERCY.  Well,  I  am  glad  of  my  Dream,  for  I  hope  ere  long 
to  see  it  fulfilled,  to  the  making  of  me  laugh     Mercy  glad  of 
again.  her  dream> 

CHRIS.  /  think'  it  is  now  high  time  to  rise,  and  to  If  now  what 
we  must  do  ? 

MERCY.  Pray,  if  they  invite  us  to  stay  a  while,  let  us 
willingly  accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am  the  willinger  to 
stay  a  while  here,  to  grow  better  acquainted  with  these 
Maids ;  methinks  Prudence,  Piety  and  Charity,  have  very 
comely  and  sober  Countenances. 

CHRIS.  We  shall  see  what  they  will  do.  So  when  they  were 
up  and  ready,  they  came  down.  And  they  asked  one  another 
of  their  rest,,  and  if  it  was  comfortable,  or  not? 

MERCY.  Very  good,  said  Mercy,  it  was  one  of  the  best  Nighfs 
Lodging  that  ever  I  had  in  my  Life. 

Then  said  Prudence,  and  Piety,  if  you  will  be  perswaded  to 
stay  here  awhile,  you  shall  have  what  the  House     They  stay  here 
will  afford.         '  *ome  time- 

CHARITY.  Ay,  and  that  with  a  very  good  will,  said  Charity. 
So  they  consented,  and  stayed  there  about  a  Month  or  above, 
and  became  very  Profitable   one  to  another.     And  because 
Prudence  would  see  how  Christiana  had  brought     prudence  de- 
tip    her    Children,  she    asked  leave    of  her  to     aS&SH^ 
catechise  them  ?    So  she  gave  her  free  consent.     Children. 
Then  she  began  at  the  youngest  whose  Name  was  James. 

PRUDENCE.   And  she  said,  Come  James,  canst     james 
thou  tell  who  made  thee  ?  Catechised. 

JAMES.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy- 
Ghost. 

PRUD.  Good  Boy.     And  canst  thou  tell  who  saves  thee? 

JAM.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy 
Ghost. 


268  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

PRUD.  Good  Boy  still.  But  how  doth  God  the  Father  save 
thee? 

JAM.  By  his  Grace. 

PRUD.  How  doth  God  the  Son  save  thee  9 

JAM.  By  his  Righteousness,  Death,  and  Blood,  and  Life. 

PRUD.  And  how  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost  save  thee  ? 

JAM.  By  his  Illumination,  by  his  Renovation,  and  by  his 
Preservation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  You  are  to  be  com- 
mended for  thus  bringing  up  your  Children.  I  suppose  I 
need  not  ask  the  rest  these  Questions,  since  the  youngest  of 
them  can  answer  them  so  well.  I  will  therefore  now  apply 
myself  to  the  youngest  next. 

PRUD.  Then  she  said,  Come  Joseph  (for  his  Name 
Joseph  was  Joseph),  will  you  let  me  Catechise 

Catechised.  voil  ? 

JOSEPH.  With  all  my  Heart. 

PRUD.  What  is  Man  ? 

JOSEPH.  A  Reasonable  Creature,  so  made  by  God,  as  my 
Brother  said. 

PRUD.   What  is  supposed  by  this  Word,  saved  ? 

JOSEPH.  That  man  by  Sin  has  brought  himself  into  a  State 
of  Captivity  and  Misery. 

PRUD.    What  is  supposed  by  his  being  saved  by  the  Trinity  ? 

JOSEPH.  That  Sin  is  so  great  and  mighty  a  Tyrant,  that 
none  can  pull  us  out  of  its  clutches  but  God,  and  that  God  is 
so  good  and  loving  to  man,  as  to  pull  him  indeed  out  of  this 
Miserable  State. 

PRUD.    What  is  God's  design  in  saving"  of  poor  Men  ? 

JOSEPH.  The  glorifying  of  his  Name,  of  his  Grace, 
and  Justice,  <$r.  And  the  everlasting  Happiness  of  his 
Creature. 

PRUD.    Who  are  they  that  mmt  be  saved  ? 

JOSEPH.  Those  that  accept  of  his  Salvation. 


THE   BOYS   CATECHISED  269 

Good  Boy,  Joseph,  thy  Mother  has  taught  thee  well,  and 
thou  hast  hearkened  to  what  she  has  said  unto  thee. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel,  who  was  the  eldest  but 
one. 

PRUD.  Come  Samuel,  are  you  willing  that  I  should  Cate- 
chise you  also?  Samud 

SAMUEL.  Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  please.  Catechised. 

PRUD.    What  is  Heaven? 

SAM.  A  Place  and  State  most  blessed,  because  God  dwelleth 
there. 

PRUD.    What  is  Hell? 

SAM.  A  Place  and  State  most  woful,  because  it  is  the 
dwelling  place  of  Sin,  the  Devil,  and  Death. 

PRUD.   Why  wouldest  thou  go  to  Heaven  ? 

SAM.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him  without  weari- 
ness ;  that  I  may  see  Christ,  and  love  him  everlastingly  ;  that 
I  may  have  that  fulness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  me  that  I  can 
by  no  means  here  enjoy. 

PRUD.  A  very  good  Boy  also,  and  one  that  has  learned  well. 

Then  she  addressed  herself  to  the  eldest,  whose  name  was 
Matthew,  and  she  said  to  him,  Come  Matthew, 

'  _  Matthew 

shall  I  also  Catechise  you  ?  Catechised. 

MAT.    With  a  very  good  Will. 

PRUD.  /  ask  then,  if  there  was  ever  any  thing  tJtat  had 
a  being  antecedent  to,  or  before  God  ? 

MAT.  No,  for  God  is  Eternal,  nor  is  there  any  thing 
excepting  himself  that  had  a  being  until  the  beginning  of 
the  first  day.  For  in  six  days  the  Lord  made  Heaven  and 
Earth,  the  Sea  and  all  that  in  them  is. 

PRUD.    What  do  you  think  of  the  Bible  ? 

MAT.  It  is  the  Holy  Word  of  God. 

PRUD.  Is  there  nothing  written  therein  but  what  you  under- 
stand ? 
,     MAT.  Yes,  a  great  deal. 


270  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

PRUD.  What  do  you  do  when  you  meet  with  such  places 
therein  that  you  do  not  understand? 

MAT.  I  think  God  is  wiser  than  I.  I  pray  also  that  he 
will  please  to  let  me  know  all  therein  that  he  knows  will  be 
for  my  good. 

PRUD.  How  believe  you  as  touching  the  Resurrection  of  the 
Dead  ? 

MAT.  I  believe  they  shall  rise,  the  same  that  was  buried  : 

»/ 

the  same  in  Nature,  tho'  not  in  Corruption.  And  I  believe 
this  upon  a  double  account.  First  because  God  has  promised 
it.  Secondly,  because  he  is  able  to  perform  it. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  the  Boys,  You  must  still  hearken 

•/      y 

Prudences  to  your  Mother,  for  she  can  learn  you  more. 

You  must  also  diligently  give  ear  to  what  good 
of  the  Boys.  talk  you  shall  hear  from  others,  for  for  your 
sakes  do  they  speak  good  things.  Observe  also  and  that 
with  carefulness,  what  the  Heavens  and  the  Earth  do  teach 
you ;  but  especially  be  much  in  the  meditation  of  that  Book 
that  was  the  cause  of  your  Father's  becoming  a  Pilgrim.  I  for 
my  part,  my  Children,  will  teach  you  what  I  can  while  you 
are  here,  and  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  ask  me  Questions  that 
tend  to  godly  edifying. 

Now  by  that  these  Pilgrims  had  been  at  this  place  a  week, 
Mercy  has  a  Mercy  had  a  Visitor  that  pretended  some  good 
will  unto  her,  and  his  name  was  Mr.  Brisk. 
A.  man  of  some  breeding,  and  that  pretended  to  Religion  ; 
but  a  man  that  stuck  very  close  to  the  World.  So  he  came- 
once  or  twice  or  more,  to  Mercy,  and  offered  love  unto  her. 
Now  Mercy  was  of  a  fair  Countenance,  and  therefore  the  more 
alluring. 

Her  mind  also  was,  to  be  always  busying  of  herself  in  doing, 
Mercys  temper,  for  when  she  had  nothing  to  do  for  herself,  she 
would  be  making  of  Hose  and  Garments  for  others,  and 
would  bestow  them  upon  them  that  had  need.  And  Mr.  Brisk 


MERCY   AND   MR.  BRISK  271 

not  knowing  where  or  how  she  disposed  of  what  she  made, 
seemed  to  be  greatly  taken  for  that  he  found  her  never 
idle.  I  will  warrant  her  a  good  Huswife,  quoth  he  to 
himself. 

Mercy  then  revealed  the  business  to  the  Maidens  that  were 
of  the  House,  and  enquired  of  them  concerning  Mercy  enquires 
him,  for  they  did  know  him  better  than  she. 
So  they  told  her  that  he  was  a  very  busy  young  Mr> 
man,  and  one  that  pretended  to  Religion  ;  but  was  as  they 
feared,  a  stranger  to  the  Power  of  that  which  was  good. 

Nay  then.,  said  Mercy,  /  will  look  no  more  on  him,  for  I 
purpose  never  to  have  a  clog  to  my  Soul. 

Prudence  then  replied,  That  there  needed  no  great  matter 
of  discouragement  to  be  given  to  him,  her  continuing  so 
as  she  had  began  to  do  for  the  Poor,  would  quickly  cool 
his  Courage. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes,  he  finds  her  at  her  old  work, 
a  making  of  things  for  the  Poor.     Then  said         lk  btloixt 
he,  What,  always  at  it  ?    Yes,  said  she,  either     Mercy  and 
for  myself  or  for  others.     And  what  canst  thee 
earn   a  day,  quoth  he  ?    I   do   these  things,  said  she,  That 
I  may   be   Rich  in  good  Woi'ks,  laying  up  in  store  a  good 
Foundation  against  the  time  to  come,  that  I  may  lay  hold  on 
Eternal  Life.    Why  prithee  what  dost  thou  with  them  ?  said 
he.     Cloath  the  naked,  said  she.    With  that  his     He  forsakes 
Countenance  fell.     So   he  forbore  to  come  at     her>  and  lch^ 
her  again.     And   when   he   was   asked  the   reason   why,  he 
said,   That  Mercy  was  a  pretty   lass,  but    troubled   with    ill 
Conditions. 

When  he  had  left  her,  Prudence  said,  Did  I  not  tell  thee 
that  Mr.  Brisk  would  soon  forsake  thee  ?    yea     Mercy  in  the 
he  will  raise  up  an  ill  report  of  thee ;  for  not-     Mercy  Defected ; 
withstanding  his  pretence  to  Religion,  and  his     while  Mercy  in 

"  '  the  Name  of 

seeming  love  to  Mercy,  yet  Mercy  and  he  are     Mercy  is  liked. 


272  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

of  tempers  so  different,  that  I  believe  they  will  never  come 
together. 

MERCY.  /  might  a  had  Husbands  afore  now,  tho'  I  spake 
not  of  it  to  any ;  but  they  were  such  as  did  not  like  my  Con- 
ditions,, tho"1  never  did  any  of  them  find  fault  with  my  Person. 
So  they  and  I  could  not  agree. 

PRUD.  Mercy  in  our  days  is  little  set  by,  any  further  than 
as  to  its  Name :  the  Practice,  which  is  set  forth  by  thy 
Conditions,  there  are  but  few  that  can  abide. 

MERCY.  Well,  said  Mercy,  if  nobody  will  have  me,  I  will 
Mercy's  ^e  a  Maid,  or  my  Conditions  shall  be  to  me  as 

a  Husband.  For  I  cannot  change  my  Nature, 
and  to  have  one  that  lies  cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose 
never  to  admit  of  as  long  as  I  live.  I  had  a  Sister  named 
Bountiful,  that  was  married  to  one  of  these  Churls ;  but  he 
HOW  Mercys  and  she  could  never  agree ;  but  because  my  Sister 
^ed^h&r  was  res°h'ed  i°  do  as  she  had  began,  that  is, 
Husband.  f0  shew  Kindness  to  the  Poor,  therefore  her 

Husband  first  cried  her  down  at  the  Cross,  and  then  turned 
her  out  of  his  Doors. 

PRUD.  And  yet  he  was  a  Professor,  I  warrant  you  ? 

MERCY.  Yes,  such  a  one  as  he  was,  and  of  such  as  he,  the 
World  is  now  full ;  but  I  am  for  none  of  them  all. 

Now  Mathew  the  eldest  Son  of  Christiana  fell  Sick,  and 
Matthew  fails  h^s  Sickness  was  sore  upon  him,  for  he  was 
8ick-  much  pained  in  his  Bowels,  so  that  he  was  with 

it,  at  times,  pulled  as  "'twere  both  ends  together.  There 
dwelt  also  not  far  from  thence  one  Mr.  Skill,  an  antient  and 
well  approved  Physician.  So  Christiana  desired  it,  and  they 
sent  for  him,  and  he  came.  When  he  wras  entered  the  Room, 
and  had  a  little  observed  the  Boy,  he  concluded  that  he  was 
Gripes  of  ^c^  °f  ^ne  Gripes.  Then  he  said  to  his  Mother, 

conscience.  What  j)^  jias  Matthew  of  late  fed  upon  ? 

Diet,  said  Christiana,  Nothing  but  that  which  is  wholesome. 


PHYSICK   FOR   MATTHEW  273 

The  Physician  answered,  This  Boy  has  been  tampering  with 
something  that  lies  in  his  Maw  undigested,  and     The  Physicians 
that  will  not  away  without  means.     And  I  tell     J^ment, 
you  lie  must  be  purged,  or  else  he  will  die. 

SAMUEL.  Then  said  Samuel,  Mother,  Mother,  what  was  that 
which  my  Brother  did  gather  up  and  eat,  so  Samuel  puts 

/»  ,7  j      a?     j    •         j.      Ms  Mother  in 

soon  as  we  were  come  jrom  the  gate  that  is  at     mind  of  the 
the  head  of  this   wail  ?    You  know  that   there    •J"1?*-'* 

J  J  Brother  did 

was  an  Orchard  on  the  left  hand,  on  the  other    eat. 

side  of  the  Wall,  and  some  of  the  Trees  hung  over  the  Wall, 

and  my  Brother  did  plash  and  did  eat. 

CHRIS.  True  my  Child,  said  Christiana,  he  did  take  thereof 
and  did  eat ;  naughty  Boy  as  he  was,  I  did  chide  him,  and 
yet  he  would  eat  thereof. 

SKILL.  /  knew  he  had  eaten  something  that  was  not  whole- 
some Food.  And  that  Food,  to  wit,  that  Fruit,  is  even  the  most 
hurtful  of  all.  It  is  the  Fruit  of  Beelzebufrs  Orchard.  I  do 
marvel  that  none  did  warn  you  of  it ;  many  have  died  thereof. 

CHRIS.  Then  Christiana  began  to  cry,  and  she  said,  O 
naughty  Boy,  and  O  careless  Mother  what  shall  I  do  for 
my  Son  ?. 

SKILL.  Come,  do  not  be  too  much  Dejected ;  the  Boy  may  do 
well  again  ;  but  he  must  purge  and  vomit. 

CHRIS.  Pray  Sir  try  the  utmost  of  your  Skill  with  him 
whatever  it  costs. 

SKILL.  Nay,  I  hope  I  shall  be  reasonable.     So  he  made  him  - 
a  Purge ;  but  it  was  too  weak.     Twas  said,  it  was  made  of 
the  Blood  of  a  Goat,  the  Ashes  of  an  Heifer,  and  with  some 
of  the  Juice  of  Hyssop,  $c.     When  Mr.  Skill  had  seen  that 
that  Purge  was  too  weak,  he  made  him  one  to     Potion 
the  Purpose,  Twos  made  Ex  Carne  %  Sanguine     ^re^red- 

n    '  4'      (V          1  ™       •    •  The  Latin  1 

Ltimsti.    (You    know    ljnysicians    give    strange     borrow. 

Medicines  to  their  Patients)  And  it  was  made  up  into  Pills 
with  a   Promise  or  two,  and   a  proportionable  quantity  of 


274  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Salt.  Now  he  was  to  take  them  three  at  a  time  fasting, 
in  half  a  quarter  of  a  Pint  of  the  Tears  of  Repentance. 
When  this  potion  was  prepared,  and  brought  to  the  Boy, 
Tfiebo  loth  ke  was  1°^  to  take  it,  tho'  torn  with  the 
to  take  the  Gripes,  as  if  he  should  be  pulled  in  pieces. 

Ph  usick, 

Come,  come,  said  the  Physician.,  you  must  take 

it.  It  goes  against  my  Stomach,  said  the  Boy.  /  must  have 
you  take  it,  said  his  Mother.  I  shall  vomit  it  up  again, 
said  the  Boy.  Pray  Sir,  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Skill,  how 
does  it  taste  ?  It  has  no  ill  taste,  said  the  Doctor,  and  with 
that  she  touched  one  of  the  pills  with  the  tip  of  her  Tongue. 
The  Mother  ®^>  Matthew,  said  she,  this  potion  is  sweeter 
tastes  it,  and  than  Honv.  If  thou  lovest  thy  Mother,  if  thou 
lovest  thy  Brothers,  if  thou  lovest  Mercy,  if 
thou  lovest  thy  Life,  take  it.  So  with  much  ado,  after 

*/ 

a  short  Prayer  for  the  Blessing  of  God  upon  it,  he  took 
it,  and  it  wrought  kindly  with  him.  It  caused  him  to  purge, 
it  caused  him  to  sleep  and  rest  quietly,  it  put  him  into 
a  fine  heat  and  breathing  sweat,  and  did  quite  rid  him  of  his 
Gripes. 

So  in  little  time  he  got  up,  and  walked  about  with  a  Staff, 
and  would  go  from  Room  to  Room,  and  talk 

A  word  of  God  *=»  ' 

in  the  hand  of      with  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charitu  of  his  Dis- 

hls  Faith,  ,       '  '  U      1     1  ' 

temper,  and  how  he  was  healed. 

So  when  the  Boy  was  healed,  Christiana  asked  Mr.  Skill, 
saying,  Sir,  what  will  content  you  for  your  pains  and  care 
to  and  of  my  Child  ?  And  he  said,  you  must  pay  the  Master 
of  the  College  of  Physicians,  according  to  rules  made  in  that 
case  and  provided. 

CHRIS,  But  Sir,  said  she,  what  is  this  Pill  good  for  else? 

SKILL.  It  is  an  universal  Pill,  'tis  good  against  all  the 
This  Pill  a  Diseases  that  Pilgrims  are  incident  to,  and 

reversal  when    it   is    well    prepared,   it    will    keep   good, 

Remedy.  .  „       .     . 

time  out  ot  mina. 


PROFITABLE   QUESTIONS  275 

* 

CHRIS.  Pray  Sir,  make  me  up  twelve  Boxes  of  them  :  for 
if  I  can  get  these,  I  will  never  take  other  Physic k. 

SKILL.  These  Pills  are  good  to  prevent  Diseases,  as  well 
as  to  cure  when  one  is  Sick.  Yea,  I  dare  say  it,  and  stand  to 
it,  that  if  a  man  will  but  use  this  Physick  as  he  should,  it 
will  make  him  live  for  ever.  But,  good  Christiana,  thou  must 
give  these  Pills,  no  other  wait  but  as  I  have 

.  u  In  a  Glass  of 

prescribed:  for  if  you  do,  they  will  do  no  good,     the  Tears  of 
So  he  gave  unto  Christiana  Physick  for  herself, 
and  her  Boys,  and  for  Mercy  :  and  bid  Matthew  take  heed  how 
he  eat  any  more  Green  Plums,  and  kist  them  and  went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before  that  Prudence  bid  the  Boys  that 
if  at  any  time  they  would,  they  should  ask  her  some  Questions 
that  might  be  profitable,  and  she  would  say  something  to  them. 

MAT.    Then  Matthew  who  had  been  sick,  asked  her,  Why 
for  the  most  part  Physick  should  be  hitter  to  our     Of  Physick. 
Palates  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  how  unwelcome  the  word  of  God  and 
the  Effects  thereof  are  to  a  Carnal  Heart. 

MAT.    Why   does   Physick,   if  it   does  good,     of  the  Effects 
purge,  and  cause  that  we  vomit  ?  of  Physick. 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  the  Word  when  it  works  effectually, 
cleanseth  the  Heart  and  Mind.  For  look  what  the  one  doth 
to  the  Body,  the  other  doth  to  the  Soul. 

MAT.   What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the  Flame  of  our 
Fire  go  upwards?  and  by  seeing  the  Beams  and     of  Fire  and 
sweet  Influences  of  the  Sun  strike  downwards  ?         °fthe  Sun- 

PRUD.  By  the  going  up  of  the  Fire,  we  are  taught  to 
ascend  to  Heaven,  by  fervent  and  hot  desires.  And  by  the 
Sun  his  sending  his  Heat,  Beams,  and  sweet  Influences  down- 
wards, we  are  taught,  that  the  Saviour  of  the  World,  tho' 
high,  reaches  down  with  his  Grace  and  Love  to  us  below. 

MAT.   Where  have  the  Clouds  their  Water?         Of  the  clouds. 

PRUD.  Out  of  the  Sea. 


276  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

MAT.    What  may  we  learn  from  that  ? 

PRUD.  That  Ministers  should  fetch  their  Doctrine  from  God. 

MAT.    Why  do  they  empty  themselves  upon  the  Earth  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  Ministers  should  give  out  what  they 
know  of  God  to  the  World. 
Of  the  MAT.    Why  is  the  Rainbow  caused  by  the  Sun  ? 

Rainbow.  pRm    TQ   ghew   thftt  the  Covenant    ()f  God's 

Grace  is  confirmed  to  us  in  Christ. 

MAT.  Why  do  the  Springs  come  from  the  Sea  to  us  through 
the  Earth  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  the  Grace  of  God  comes  to  us  through 

•  o 

the  Body  of  Christ. 

Of  the  Springs.         MAT.    Why  do  some  of  the  Springs    rise  out 

of  the  tops  of  high  Hills  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  the  Spirit  of  Grace  shall  spring  up  in 
some  that  are  Great,  and  Mighty,  as  well  as  in  many  that  are 
poor  and  Low. 

Of  the  Candle.  MAT.     Why  doth    the  Fire  fasten   upon    the 

Candlewick  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  unless  Grace  doth  kindle  upon  the 
Heart  there  will  be  no  true  Light  of  Life  in  us. 

O 

MAT.  Why  is  the  Wick  and  Tallow  and  all  spent  to  main- 
tain the  light  of  the  Candle  ? 

PRUD.  To  shew  that  Body  and  Soul  and  all,  should  be  at 
the  Service   of,  and   spend  themselves  to   maintain  in  good 
Condition  that  Grace  of  God  that  is  in  us. 
Of  the  Pelican.          MAT.    Why  doth  the  Pelican  pierce  her  own 
Breast  with  her  Bill  ? 

PRUD.  To  nourish  her  Young  ones  with  her  Blood,  and 
thereby  to  shew  that  Christ  the  blessed  so  loveth  his  Young, 
his  People,  as  to  save  them  from  Death  by  his  Blood. 
Of  the  Cock.  MAT.     What  may  one  learn  by  hearing  the 

Cock  to  Crow  ? 

PRUD.  Learn  to  remember  Peters  Sin,  and  Peter s  Repent- 


TAKING    SIGHTS  277 

ance.  The  Cock's  crowing  shews  also  that  day  is  coming  on  ; 
let  then  the  crowing  of  the  Cock  put  thee  in  mind  of  that  last 
and  terrible  Day  of  Judgment. 

Now  about  this  time  their  Month  was  out,  wherefore  they 
signified  to  those  of  the  House  that  "'twas  convenient  for  them 
to  up  and  be  going.     Then  said  Joseph  to  his     The  weak  may 
Mother,  It  is  convenient  that  you  forget  not     JJ?2l!!!S/« 

•/  f  t/t-tJ  ot/  C//t(/  tC/ 

to  send  to  the  House  of  Mr.  Interpreter,  to  Prayers. 
pray  him  to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should  be  sent 
unto  us,  that  he  may  be  our  Conductor  the  rest  of  our 
way.  Good  Boy,  said  she,  I  had  almost  forgot.  So  she 
drew  up  a  Petition  and  prayed  Mr.  Watchful  the  Porter 
to  send  it  by  some  fit  man  to  her  good  Friend  Mr.  Inter- 
preter ;  who  when  it  was  come  and  he  had  seen  the  con- 
tents of  the  Petition,  said  to  the  Messenger,  Go  tell  them 
that  I  will  send  him. 

When  the  Family  where  Christiana  was,  saw  that  they  had 
a  purpose  to  go  forward,  they  called  the  whole 

J  They  provide  to 

House  together  to  give  thanks  to  their  King,     be  gone  on  their 
for  sending  of  them  such  profitable  Guests  as 
these.     Which  done  they  said  to  Christiana,  And  shall  we 
not  shew   thee   something,    according  as  our  Custom  is  to 
do  to  Pilgrims,  on  which  thou  mayest  meditate  when  thou 
art  upon  the  way  ?     So  they  took  Christiana,  her  Children, 
and  Mercy  into  the  Closet,   and  shewed  them   one  of  the 
Apples  that  Eve  did  eat  of,  and  that  she  also     Eves  Apple. 
did  give  to  her  Husband,  and  that  for  the  eating  of  which 
they  both  were  turned  out  of  Paradise,  and  asked  her  what 
she  thought  that  was  ?     Then  Christiana  said,     A  sight  0fSin 
''Tis  Food  or  Poison,  I  know  not  which.    So  they     M  amazing. 
opened  the  matter  to  her,  and  she  held  up  her  hands  and 
wondered  ? 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  Place,  and  shewed     Jacob's 
her  Jacob's  Ladder.     Now  at  that  time  there     Ladder' 


278  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

were  some  Angels  ascending  upon  it.  So  Christiana  looked 
and  looked,  to  see  the  Angels  go  up,  and  so  did  the  rest 
of  the  Company.  Then  they  were  going  into  another  place 
A  sight  of  to  shew  them  something  else  :  but  James  said 

Christ  is  taking.     ^  ^  Mother,  Pray  bid  them  stay  here  a  little 

longer,  for  this  is  a  curious  sight.  So  they  turned  again, 
and  stood  feeding  their  Eyes  with  this  so  pleasant  a  prospect. 
After  this  they  had  them  into  a  Place  where  did  hang  up 
Golden  Anchor,  a  Golden  Anchor,  so  they  bid  Christiana  take  it 
down  ;  For,  said  they,  you  shall  have  it  with  you,  for  'tis  of 
absolute  necessity  that  you  should,  that  you  may  lay  hold  of 
that  within  the  vail,  and  stand  stedfast,  in  case  you  should 

+f 

meet  with  turbulent  weather.  So  they  were  glad  thereof. 
Of  Abraham  Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  the 
offering  up  mount  upon  which  Abraham  our  Father  had 

1  Qflflf* 

offered  up  Isaac  his  Son,  and  shewed  them  the 
Altar,  the  Wood,  the  Fire,  and  the  Knife,  for  they  remain 
to  be  seen  to  this  very  Day.  When  they  had  seen  it,  they 
held  up  their  hands  and  -blest  themselves,  and  said,  Oh ! 
What  a  man,  for  love  to  his  Master,  and  for  denial  to 
himself  was  A braham  f  After  they  had  shewed  them  all 
these  things,  Prudence  took  them  into  the  Dining-Room, 
Prudences  where  stood  a  pair  of  excellent  Virginals  :  so 

she  played  upon  them,  and  turned  what  she  had 
shewed  them  into  this  excellent  song,  saying, 

• 

Eve's  Apple  we  have  shewed  you, 
Of  that  be  you  aware  : 
You  have  seen  Jacobus  Ladder  too, 
Upon  which  Angels  are. 

An  Anchor  you  received  have; 
But  let  not  these  suffice, 
Until  with  Abra'm  you  have  gave 

Your  best  a  Sacrifice. 


THE   PORTERS   BLESSING  279 

Now  about  this  time  one  knocked  at  the  Door :  So  the 
Porter  opened,  and  behold  Mr.  Great-heart  was  there  ;  but 
when  he  was  come  in,  what  Joy  was  there  ?  For 

J        t          m  Mr.  Great- 

it  came  now  fresh  again  into  their  minds,  how     heart  come 

but  a  little  while  ago  he  had  slain  old  Grim 
Bloody-man,  the  Giant,  and  had  delivered  them    from    the 
Lions. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  Christiana  and  to  Mercy,  My 
Lord  has  sent  each  of  you  a  Bottle  of  Wine, 

•>  t  He  brings  a 

and  also  some  parched  Corn,  together  with  a     token  from  his 

1  P    -r»  .  .  Lord  with  him. 

couple    01    Pomegranates.     He    has    also    sent 

the   Boys   some   Figs   and    Raisins    to  refresh  you    in   your 

way. 

Then  they  addressed  themselves  to  their  Journey,  and 
Prudence  and  Piety  went  along  with  them.  When  they  came 
at  the  Gate  Christiana  asked  the  Porter,  if  any  of  late  went 
by.  He  said,  No,  only  one  some  time  since :  who  also  told 
me  that  of  late  there  had  been  a  great  Robbery  committed 
on  the  Kings  High-way,  as  you  go.  But  he  Robbery. 
saith,  the  Thieves  are  taken,  and  will  shortly  be  tried  for 
their  Lives.  Then  Christiana  and  Mercy  was  afraid ;  but 
Mathew  said,  Mother  fear  nothing,  as  long  as  Mr.  Great- 
heart  is  to  go  with  us,  and  to  be  our  Conductor. 

Then  said  Christiana  to  the  Porter,  Sir,  I  am  much  obliged 
to  you   for  all  the  Kindnesses  that  you  have     Christiana 
shewed  me  since  I  came  hither ;   and  also  for     takes  her  leave 

,  ,  ,  ,       .  ,    ,  .     ,  of  the  Porter. 

that  you  nave  been  so  loving  and  kind  to  my 
Children.    I  know  not  how  to  gratify  your  Kindness.  Where- 
fore pray  as  a  token  of  my  respects  to  you  accept  of  this 
small  mite.     So  she  put  a  Gold  Angel  in  his  Hand,  and  he 
made  her  a  low  obeisance,  and  said,  Let  thy     The  Porters 
Garments  be  always  White,  and  let  thy  Head     blessinff' 
want  no  Ointment.     Let  Mercy  live  and  not  die,  and  let  not 
her  Works  be  few.     And  to  the  Boys  he  said,  Do  you  fly 


280  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Youthful  lusts,  and  follow  after  Godliness  with  them  that 
are  Grave,  and  Wise,  so  shall  you  put  Gladness  into  your 
Mother's  Heart,  and  obtain  Praise  of  all  that  are  sober- 
minded.  So  they  thanked  the  Porter  and  departed. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  forward  until 
they  were  come  to  the  Brow  of  the  Hill,  where  Piety  bethink- 
ing herself  cried  out,  Alas!  I  have  forgot  what  I  intended 
to  bestow  upon  Christiana,  and  her  Companions.  I  will  go 
back  and  fetch  it.  So  she  ran,  and  fetched  it.  While  she 
was  gone,  Christiana  thought  she  heard  in  a  Grove  a  little 
way  off  on  the  Right-hand,  a  most  curious  melodious  Note, 
with  words  much  like  these, 

Through  all  my  Life  thy  favour  is, 

So  fraiikly  sheitfd  to  me. 
That  in  thy  House  for  evermore 

My  dwelling-place  shall  be. 

And  listening  still  she  thought  she  heard  another  answer 
it,  saying, 

For  why,   The  Lord  our  God  is  good, 

His  Mercy  is  for  ever  sure : 
His  Truth  at  all  times  Jirmly  stood: 

And  shall  from  Age  to  Age  endure. 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence,  what  "'twas  that  made  those 
curious  Notes  ?  They  are,  said  she,  our  Country  Birds  :  they 
sing  these  Notes  but  seldom  except  it  be  at  the  Spring, 
when  the  Flowers  appear,  and  the  Sun  shines  warm,  and 
then  you  may  hear  them  all  day  long.  I  often,  said  she, 
go  out  to  hear  them,  we  also  oft  times  keep  them  tame  in  our 
House.  They  are  very  fine  Company  for  us  when  we  are 
Melancholy,  also  they  make  the  Woods,  and  Groves,  and 
Solitary  places  places  desirous  to  be  in. 


THE  VALLEY  OF   HUMILIATION  281 

By  this  Time  Piety  was  come  again,  so  she  said  to  Christiana, 
look  here,  I  have  brought  thee  a  Scheme  of  all     piety  bestowetk 
those  things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our  House,     J^JjJfjJ 
upon    which    thou     mayest    look    when    thou     parting. 
findest   thyself  forgetful,    and    call    those   things    again    to 
remembrance  for  thy  Edification  and  Comfort. 

Now  they  began  to  go  down  the  Hill  into  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation.  It  was  a  steep  Hill,  and  the  way  i  part,  page  68. 
was  slippery ;  but  they  were  very  careful,  so  they  got 
down  pretty  well.  When  they  were  down  in  the  Valley, 
Piety  said  to  Christiana,  This  is  the  place  where  Christian 
your  Husband  met  with  the  foul  Fiend,  Apollyon,  and 
where  they  had  that  dreadful  fight  that  they  had.  I  know 
you  cannot  but  have  heard  thereof.  But  be  of  good 
Courage,  as  long  you  have  here  Mr.  Great-heart  to  be 
your  Guide  and  Conductor,  we  hope  you  will  fare  the 
better.  So  when  these  two  had  committed  the  Pilgrims 
unto  the  Conduct  of  their  Guide,  he  went  forward  and 
they  went  after. 

GREAT-HEART.    Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  We  need  not 
to   be    so   afraid   of  this  Valley :    for    here    is     Mr.  Great- 
nothing  to  hurt  us  unless  we  procure  it  to  our-     ^vaiiefof6 
selves.     'Tis  true,  Christian  did  here  meet  with     Humiliation. 
Apollyon,  with  whom  he  also  had  a  sore  Combat ;    but  that 
fray  was  the  fruit  of  those  slips  that  he  got  in  his  going 
down  the   Hill.     For  they  that  get  slips  there,  must  look 
for  Combats   here.     And  hence   it  is  that    this  Valley  has 
got  so  hard  a  name.     For  the  common  People     i  part,  page  68, 
when  they  hear  that  some  frightful  thing  has  befallen  such 
an  one  in  such  a  place,  are  of  an  Opinion  that  that  place 
is  haunted  with  some  foul  Fiend,  or  evil  Spirit ;  when  alas  it 
is  for  the  fruit  of  their  doing,  that  such  things  do  befall 
them  there. 

This  Valley  of  Humiliation  is  of  itself  as  fruitful  a  place  as 


282  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

any  the  Crow  flies  over  ;    and  I  am  perswaded  if  we  could 

The  reason  why     hit  uPon  {i>    wf    might  find  somewhere    here- 
abouts    something    that    might    give    us    an 


50  beset  here. 

account  why  Christian  was  so  hardly  beset  in 
this  place. 

Then  James  said  to  his  Mother,  Lo,  yonder  stands  a  Pillar, 

A  Pillar  with  and  ^  ^°°^s  as  ^  something  was  written 
an  inscription  thereon  :  let  us  go  and  see  what  it  is.  So  they 

on  it. 

went,  and  found  there  written,  Let  Christianas 
slips  before  he  came  hither,  and  the  Battles  that  he  met 
with  in  this  place,  be  a  warning  to  those  that  come  after. 
Lo,  said  their  Guide,  did  not  I  tell  you,  that  there  was  some- 
thing hereabouts  that  would  give  Intimation  of  the  reason 
why  Christian  was  so  hard  beset  in  this  place  ?  Then  turning 
himself  to  Christiana,  he  said  :  No  disparagement  to  Christian 
more  than  to  many  others,  whose  Hap  and  Lot  his  was.  For 
'tis  easier  going  up,  than  down  this  Hill  ;  and  that  can  be 
said  but  of  few  Hills  in  all  these  parts  of  the  World.  But 
we  will  leave  the  good  Man,  he  is  at  rest,  he  also  had  a  brave 
Victory  over  his  Enemy  ;  let  him  grant  that  dwelleth  above, 
that  we  fare  no  worse  when  wre  come  to  be  tried  than  he. 

But  we  will  come  again  to  this  Valley  of  Humiliation.  It 
is  the  best,  and  most  fruitful  piece  of  Ground  in  all  those 
This  Valley  a  parts.  It  is  fat  Ground,  and  as  you  see  con- 
bravepiace.  ^i^  much  in  Meadows  ;  and  if  a  man  was  to 

come  here  in  the  Summertime  as  we  do  now,  if  he  knew  not 
anything  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  delighted  himself 
in  the  sight  of  his  Eyes,  he  might  see  that  that  would  be 

o  •/  o 

delightful  to  him.  Behold,  how  green  this  Valley  is,  also 
how  beautified  with  Lilies.  I  have  also  known  many  labour- 
ing men  that  have  got  good  Estates  in  this  Valley  of 
thrive  in  Humiliation.  (For  God  resisteth  the  Proud  ; 


the  valley  of        but  gives   moj'e,  more  Grace  to   the  Humble) 
for   indeed  it  is  a  very  fruitful  Soil,  and  doth 


THE  COUNTRY-HOUSE   OF   CHRIST        283 

bring  forth  by  handfuls.  Some  also  have  wished  that  the  next 
way  to  their  Father's  House  were  here,  that  they  might  be 
troubled  no  more  with  either  Hills  or  Mountains  to  go 
over  ;  but  the  way  is  the  way,  and  there's  an  end. 

Now  as  they  were  going  along  and  talking,  they  espied 
a  Boy  feeding  his  Father's  Sheep.  The  Boy  was  in  very 
mean  Cloaths,  but  of  a  very  fresh  and  well-favoured  Coun- 
tenance, and  as  he  sate  by  himself  he  sung.  Hark,  said 
Mr.  Great-heart,  to  what  the  Shepherd's  Boy  saith.  So  they 
hearkened,  and  he  said, 

He  that  is  dozvn,  needs  fear  no  fall, 
He  that  is  low,  no  Pride  : 
He  that  is  humble,  ever  shall 
Have  God  to  be  his  Guide. 

I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 
Little  be  it,  or  much: 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 
Because  thou  savest  such. 

Fulness  to  such  a  burden  is 
That  go  on  Pilgrimage: 
Here  little,  and  hereafter  Bliss, 
Is  best  from  Age  to  Age. 

Then  said  their  Guide,  do  you  hear  him  ?  I  will  dare  to 
say,  that  this  Boy  lives  a  merrier  Life,  and  wears  more  of 
that  Herb  called  Hearts-ease  in  his  Bosom,  then  he  that  is  clad 
in  Silk  and  Velvet  ;  but  we  will  proceed  in  our  Discourse. 

In  this  Valley,  our  Lord  formerly  had  his  Country-House, 
he  loved  much  to  be  here.  He  loved  also  to  Christ,  n-hm  in 


walk  these  Meadows,  for  he  found  the  Air  was     his 


pleasant.     Besides    here   a   man    shall  be   free 
from  the  Noise,  and  from  the  hurryings  of  this     Humiliation. 
Life.     All  States  are  full  of  Noise  and  Confusion,  only  the 
Valley  of  Humiliation,   is  that   empty  and    solitary  Place. 

L3 


284  THE  PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

Here  a  man  shall  not  be  so  let  and  hindred  in  his  Contempla- 
tion, as  in  other  places  he  is  apt  to  be.  This  is  a  Valley 
that  nobody  walks  in,  but  those  that  love  a  Pilgrim's  Life. 
And  tho'  Christian  had  the  hard  hap  to  meet  here  with 
Apollyon,  and  to  enter  with  him  a  brisk  encounter,  yet 
I  must  tell  you,  that  in  former  times  men  have  met  with 
Angels  here,  have  found  Pearls  here,  and  have  in  this  place 
found  the  words  of  Life. 

Did  I  say,  our  Lord  had  here  in  former  Days  his 
Country-house,  and  that  he  loved  here  to  walk  ?  I  will 
add,  in  this  Place,  and  to  the  People  that  live  and  trace 
these  Grounds  he  has  left  a  yearly  revenue  to  be  faithfully 
paid  them  at  certain  Seasons,  for  their  maintenance  by  the 
way,  and  for  their  further  incouragement  to  go  on  in  their 
Pilgrimage. 

SAMUEL.  Now  as  they  went  on,  Samuel  said  to  Mr.  Great- 
heart.  Sir,  I  perceive  that  in  this  Valley  my  Father  and 
Apollyon  had  their  Battle;  but  whereabout  was  the  Fight, 
for  I  perceive  this  Valley  is  large  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Your  Father  had  that  Battle  with  Apollyon 
at  a  place  yonder,  before  us,  in  a  narrow  Passage  just  beyond 
Forgetful  Forgetful-Green.  And  indeed  that  place  is  the 

most  dangerous  place  in  all  these  Parts.  For  if 
at  any  time  the  Pilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt,  it  is  when 
they  forget  what  Favours  they  have  received,  and  how 
unworthy  they  are  of  them.  This  is  the  Place  also  where 
others  have  been  hard  put  to  it.  But  more  of  the  place 
when  we  are  come  to  it ;  for  I  perswade  myself,  that  to 
this  day  there  remains  either  some  sign  of  the  Battle,  or 
some  Monument  to  testify  that  such  a  Battle  there  was  fought. 

MERCY.    Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  I  am  as  well  in  this 

Valley,  as  I   have   been   anywhere   else   in   all   our  Journev. 

Humility  a          The  place  mcthinks    suits   with  my  Spirit.     I 

love  to  be    in   such    places  where   there   is   no 


THE   FIELD   OF   BATTLE  285 

rattling  with  Coaches,  nor  rumbling  with  Wheels.  Methinks 
here  one  may  without  much  Molestation,  be  thinking  what 
he  is,  whence  he  came,  what  he  has  done,  and  to  what  the 
King  has  called  him.  Here  one  may  think,  and  break  at 
Heart,  and  melt  in  one's  Spirit  until  one's  Eyes  become  like 
the  Fish  Pools  of  Heshbon.  They  that  go  rightly  through 
this  Valley  of  Baca  make  it  a  Well,  the  Rain  that  God 
sends  down  from  Heaven  upon  .them  that  are  here  also  Jilleth 

the  Pools.     This  Valley  is  that  from  whence  also  the  King 

*/ 

will  give  to  them  Vineyards,  and  they  that  go  through  it, 
shall  sing,  (as  Christian  did,  for  all  he  met  with  Apol- 
lyon.) 

GREAT-HEART.  ?Tis  true,  said  their  Guide,  I  have  gone 
through  this  Valley  many  a  time,  and  never  An  Experiment 
was  better  than  when  here. 

I  have  also  been  a  Conduct  to  several  Pilgrims,  and  they 
have  confessed  the  same,  To  this  man  will  I  look,  saith  the 
King,  even  to  him  that  is  Poor,  and  of  a  contrite  Spirit^  and 
that  trembles  at  my  Word. 

Now  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  the  afore-mentioned 
Battle  was  fought.  Then  said  the  Guide  to  Christiana  her 
Children  and  Mercy :  This  is  the  place,  on  this  Ground 
Christian  stood,  and  up  there  came  Apollyon  against  him. 
And  look,  did  not  I  tell  you,  here  is  some  of  The  place  where 
your  Husband's  Blood  upon  these  Stones  to  the  Fiend  did 
this  day.  Behold  also  how  here  and  there  are  ft?M'  s™™ 

J  signs  of  the 

yet  to  be  seen  upon  the  place  some  of  the  Battle  remains. 
Shivers  of  Apollyon  s  broken  Darts.  See  also  how  they  did 
beat  the  Ground  with  their  Feet,  as  they  fought  to  make 
good  their  Places  against  each  other,  how  also  with  their 
by-blows,  they  did  split  the  very  Stones  in  pieces.  Verily 
Christian  did  here  play  the  Man,  and  shewed  himself  as 
stout,  as  could,  had  he  been  there,  even  Hercules  himself. 
When  Apollyon  was  beat,  he  made  his  retreat  to  the  next 


286  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Valley,  that  is  called  The  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
unto  which  we  shall  come  anon. 

Lo,  yonder  also  stands  a  Monument  on  which  is  engraven 
A  Monument  this  Battle,  and  Christians  Victory  to  his 
of  the  Battle.  Fam^  throughout  all  Ages.  So  because  it 

stood  just  on  the   way-side    before   them,  they  stept    to   it 
and  read  this  Writing,  which  word  for  word  was  this, 

A  Monument  Hard  btj,  here  was  a  Battle  fought, 

of  Christians  f/'  J 

Victory.  Most  strange,  and  yet  most  true. 

Christian  and  Apollyon  sought 
Each  other  to  subdue. 

The  Man  so  bravely  playd  the  Man, 
He  made  the  Eiend  to  Jty  : 
Of  which  a  Monument  I  stand, 
The  same  to  testify. 

When  they  had  passed  by  this  place,  they  came  upon  the 
i  part,  page  76.  Borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  this  Valley 
was  longer  than  the  other ;  a  place  also  most  strangely 
haunted  with  Evil  things,  as  many  are  able  to  testify. 
But  these  Women  and  Children  went  the  better  through  it, 
because  they  had  day-light,  and  because  Mr.  Great-heart 
was  their  Conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  Valley  they  thought 
Groanings  that  they  heard  a  groaning  as  of  dead  men,  a 

very  great  groaning.  They  thought  also  they 
did  hear  Words  of  Lamentation  spoken,  as  of  some  in 
extream  Torment.  These  things  made  the  Boys  to  quake, 
the  Women  also  looked  pale  and  wan ;  but  their  guide  bid 
them  be  of  good  Comfort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they  thought  that 

The  Ground         they   felt   the   Ground   begin   to    shake    under 

them,  as  if  some  hollow  Place  was  there ;  they 

heard  also  a  kind  of  a  hissing  as  of  Serpents ;   but  nothing 


A   MONUMENT    OF   VICTORY 


287 


as  yet  appeared.  Then  said  the  Boys,  Are  we  not  yet  at  the 
end  of  this  doleful  place  ?  But  the  Guide  also  bid  them  be 
of  good  Courage,  and  look  well  to  their  Feet,  lest  haply,  said 
he,  you  be  taken  in  some  Snare, 


THE  MONUMENT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  VICTORY. 

Now  James  began  to  be  Sick  ;  but  I  think  the  cause  thereof 
was  Fear  ;  so  his  Mother  gave  him  some  of  that     James  sick 
Glass  of  Spirits  that  she  had  given  her  at  the     with  Fear- 
Interpreters  House,  and  three  of  the  Pills  that  Mr.  Skill  had 
prepared,  and  the  Boy  began  to  revive.     Thus  they  went  on 


288  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

till  they  came  to  about  the  middle  of  the  Valley,  and  then 
The  Fiend  Christiana  said,  Methinks  I  see  something  yonder 

appears.  upon  the  Road  before  us,  a  thing  of  such  a  shape 

such  as  I  have  not  seen.  Then  said  Joseph,  Mother,  what 
The  Pilgrims  is  ^  ?  An  ugty  thing,  Child  ;  an  ugly  thing, 
are  afraid.  sajd  £&.  But  Mother,  what  is  it  like,  said  he  ? 
'Tis  like  I  cannot  tell  what,  said  she.  And  now  it  was  but 
a  little  way  off.  Then  said  she,  it  is  nigh. 

Well,  well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  let  them  that  are  most 
afraid  keep  close  to  me.  So  the  Fiend  came  on,  and  the 
Conductor  met  it;  but  when  it  was  just  come  to  him,  it 
vanished  to  all  their  sights.  Then  remembered  they  what 
had  been  said  sometime  ago,  Resist  the  Devil,  and  he  will 
fly  from  you. 

They  went  therefore  on,  as  being  a  little  refreshed ;  but 
Great  heart  they  had  not  gone  far,  before  Mercy  looking 
incourages  behind  her  saw,  as  she  thought,  something; 

.»  O          '  O 

most  like  a  Lion,  and  it  came  a  great  padding 
A  Lion.  pace  after ;  and  it  had  a  hollow  Voice  of 

Roaring,  and  at  every  Roar  that  it  gave,  it  made  all  the 
Valley  echo,  and  their  Hearts  to  ake,  save  the  Heart  of 
him  that  was  their  Guide.  So  it  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart  went  behind,  and  put  the  Pilgrims  all  before  him.  The 
Lion  also  came  on  apace,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  addressed 
himself  to  give  him  Battle.  But  when  he  saw  that  it  was 
determined  that  resistance  should  be  made,  he  also  drew 
back  and  came  no  further. 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  Conductor  did  go 
before  them,  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  was  cast  up 
A  pit  and  a  pit,  the  whole  breadth  of  the  way,  and  before 

they  could  be  prepared  to  go  over  that,  a  great 
mist  and  a  darkness  fell  upon  them,  so  that  they  could  not 
see.  Then  said  the  Pilgrims,  alas  !  now  what  shall  we  do  ? 
But  their  Guide  made  answer,  Fear  not,  stand  still  and  see 


THE  VALLEY  OF  THE  SHADOW  OF  DEATH  289 

what  an  end  will  be  put  to  this  also.  So  they  stayed  there 
because  their  Path  was  marrVl.  They  then  also  thought  that 
they  did  hear  more  apparently  the  noise  and  rushing  of  the 
Enemies,  the  fire  also  and  the  smoke  of  the  Pit  was  much 
easier  to  be  discerned.  Then  said  Christiana 

Christiana  now 

to  Mercy,  now  I  see  what  my  poor  Husband  knoivs  ivhat  her 
went  through.  I  have  heard  much  of  this 
place,  but  I  never  was  here  afore  now ;  poor  man,  he 
went  here  all  alone  in  the  night ;  he  had  night  almost  quite 
through  the  way ;  also  these  Fiends  were  busy  about  him, 
as  if  they  would  have  torn  him  in  pieces.  Many  have  spoke 
of  it,  but  none  can  tell  what  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death  should  mean,  until  they  come  in  it  themselves.  The 
heart  'knows  its  own  bitterness,  and  a  stranger  intermeddleth 
not  with  its  Joy.  To  be  here  is  a  fearful  thing. 

GREATH.  This  is  like  doing  business  in  great  Waters,  or 
like  going  down  into  the  deep  ;  this  is  like  Great-heart's 
being  in  the  heart  of  the  Sea,  and  like  going  RePly- 
down  to  the  Bottoms  of  the  Mountains.  Now  it  seems  as 
if  the  Earth  with  its  bars  were  about  us  for  ever.  But  let 
them  that  walk  in  darkness  and  have  no  light,  trust  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  their  God.  For  my  Part, 
as  I  have  told  you  already,  I  have  gone  often  through  this 
Valley,  and  have  been  much  harder  put  to  it  than  now  I  am, 
and  yet  you  see  I  am  alive.  I  would  not  boast,  for  that  I  am 
not  mine  own  Saviour.  But  I  trust  we  shall  have  a  good 
deliverance.  Come  let  us  pray  for  light  to  him  that  can 
lighten  our  darkness,  and  that  can  rebuke,  not  only  these, 
but  all  the  Satans  in  Hell. 

So  they  cried  and  prayed,  and  God  sent  light,  and  deliver- 
ance, for  there  was  now  no  let  in  their  way,  no     They  pray. 
not  there  where  but  now  they  were  stopt  with  a  pit : 

Yet  they  were  not  got  through  the  Valley ;    so  they  went 
on  still,  and  behold  great  stinks  and  loathsome  smells,  to  the 


290  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

great  annoyance  of  them.  Then  said  Mercy  to  Christiana, 
There  is  not  such  pleasant  being  here,  as  at  the  Gate,  or  at 
the  Interpreter's,  or  at  the  House  where  we  lay  last. 

O  but,  said  one  of  the  Boys,  it  is  not  so  bad  to  go  through 
One  of  the  Boys  here,  as  it  is  to  abide  here  always,  and  for  ought 
RePln-  I  know,  one  reason  why  we  must  go  this  way  to 

the  House  prepared  for  us,  is,  that  our  home  might  be  made 
the  sweeter  to  us. 

Well  said,  Samuel,  quoth  the  Guide,  thou  hast  now  spoke 
like  a  man.  Why,  if  ever  I  get  out  here  again,  said  the  Boy, 
I  think  I  shall  prize  light,  and  good  way  better  than  ever 
I  did  in  all  my  life.  Then  said  the  Guide,  we  shall  be  out 
by  and  by. 

So  on  they  went,  and  Joseph  said,  Cannot  we  see  to  the  end 
of  this  Valley  as  yet  ?  Then  said  the  Guide,  Look  to  your 
feet,  for  you  shall  presently  be  among  the  Snares.  So  they 
looked  to  their  feet  and  went  on  ;  but  they  were  troubled 
much  with  the  Snares.  Now  when  they  were  come  among 
the  Snares,  they  espied  a  man  cast  into  the  Ditch  on  the  left 
hand,  with  his  flesh  all  rent  and  torn.  Then  said  the  Guide, 
Heedless  That  is  one  Heedless,  that  was  a  going  this 

is  slain,  way  .  he  }ias  }ain  there  a  great  while.  There 

Takeheed  was  one  TaJceheed  with  him  when  he  was  taken 

pr  and  slain,  but  he  escaped  their  hands.  You 

cannot  imagine,  how  many  are  killed  here  about,  and  yet 
men  are  so  foolishly  venturous,  as  to  set  out  lightly  on  Pil- 
grimage, and  to  come  without  a  Guide.  Poor  Christian,  it 
was  a  wonder  that  he  here  escaped,  but  he  was  beloved  of  his 
God,  also  he  had  a  good  heart  of  his  own,  or  else  he  could 
i  part,  page  83.  never  a  done  it.  Now  they  drew  towards  the 

v 

end  of  the  way,  and  just  there  where  Christian  had  seen 
the  Cave  when  he  went  by,  out  thence  came  forth  Maul 
Haul  a  Giant.  a  Giant.  This  Maul  did  use  to  spoil  young 
Pilgrims  with  Sophistry,  and  he  called  Great-heart  bv  his 


THE   FIGHT   WITH   GIANT   MAUL          291 

name,  and  said  unto  him,  how  many  times  have  you  been 
forbidden  to  do  these  things  ?     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart, 
what  things  ?    What  things,  quoth  the  Giant,     H&  uarrels 
you    know    what   things ;    but   I  will   put   an     with  Great- 

heart. 

end  to  your  trade.  But  pray,  said  Mr.  Great- 
heart,  before  we  fall  to  it,  let  us  understand  wherefore  we 
must  fight  (now  the  Women  and  Children  stood  trembling, 
and  know  not  what  to  do)  quoth  the  Giant,  you  rob  the 
Country,  and  rob  it  with  the  worst  of  Thefts.  These  are 
but  generals,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  come  to  particulars, 
man. 

Then  said  the  Giant,  Thou  practisest  the  craft  of  a  Kid- 
napper, thou  gatherest  up  Women,  and  Children,  Ministers 
and  earnest  them   into  a  strange  Country,  to     counted  as 
the  weakning  of  my  Master's  Kingdom.     But 
now   Great-heart  replied,  I  am    a    Servant    of  the   God    of 
Heaven,  my  business  is  to  perswade  sinners  to  Repentance ; 
I  am  commanded  to  do  my  endeavour  to  turn  Men,  Women, 
and  Children,  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from     me  Giant  and 
the  power  of  Satan  to  God,  and  if  this  be  in-     h^rt  \^t 
deed  the  ground  of  thy  quarrel,  let  us  fall  to  it    fi^t. 
as  soon  as  thou  wilt. 

Then  the  Giant,  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  to 
meet  him,  and  as  he  went  he  drew  his  Sword;  but  the  Giant 
had  a  Club.     So  with  out  more  ,ado  they  fell  to  it,  and  at 
the  first  blow  the  Giant  stroke  Mr.  Great-heart     weak  folks 
down  upon  one  of  his  knees  ;    with  that  the     prayers  do 

sometimes  help 

Women,  and  Children  cried  out.    So  Mr.  Great-     strong  folks 
heart  recovering  himself,  laid  about  him  in  full 
lusty  manner,  and  gave  the  Giant  a  wound  in  his  arm  ;  thus 
he  fought  for  the  space  of  an  hour  to  that  height  of  heat, 
that  the  breath  came  out  of  the  Giant's  nostrils,  as  the  heat 
doth  out  of  a  boiling  Caldron. 

Then  they  sat  down   to  rest  them,  but  Mr.  Great-heart 


292  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

betook  him  to  prayer ;  also  the  Women  and  Children  did 
nothing  but  sigh  and  cry  all  the  time  that  the  Battle 
did  last. 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken  breath,  they  both 
Tiie  Giant  fell  to  it  again,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  with  a  full 

struck  town.  ^low  fetch t  the  Giant  down  to  the  ground. 
Nay  hold,  and  let  me  recover,  quoth  he.  So  Mr.  Great-heart 
fairly  let  him  get  up  ;  so  to  it  they  went  again  ;  and  the 
Giant  mist  but  little  of  all-to-breaking  Mr.  Great-heaths 
Scull  with  his  Club. 

Mr.  Great-heart  seeing  that,  runs  to  him  in  the  full  heat 
of  his  Spirit,  and  pierceth  him  under  the  fifth  rib ;  with  that 
the  Giant  began  to  faint,  and  could  hold  up  his  Club  no 
longer.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  seconded  his  blow,  and  smit 
the  head  of  the  Giant  from  his  shoulders.  Then  the  Women 
and  Children  rejoyced,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  also  praised  God, 
for  the  deliverance  he  had  wrought. 

O 

When  this  was  done,  they  amongst  them  erected  a  Pillar, 
and   fastned    the    Giant's    head    thereon,   and 

Tie  is  slam,  and 

his  head  wrote  underneath   in   Letters   that   Passengers 

disposed  of.  •    i   ,  i 

might  read. 

He  that  did  wear  this  head  ivas  one 

That  Pilgrims  did  misuse; 

He  stopt  their  icay,  he  spared  none, 

But  did  them  all  abuse ; 

Until  that  /,  Great-heart,  arose, 

The  Pilgrims'1  Guide  to  be ; 

Until  that  I  did  him  oppose, 

That  was  their  Enemy. 

Now  I  saw,  that  they  went  to  the  Ascent  that  was  a  little 
i  part, page  84.  way  off  cast  up  to  be  a  Prospect  for  Pilgrims 
(that  was  the  place  from  whence  Christian  had  the  first  sight 
of  Faithful  his  Brother.)  Wherefore  here  they  sat  down, 


DISCOURSE   OF   FIGHTS  293 

and  rested,  they  also  here  did  eat  and  drink,  and  make 
merry  ;  for  that  they  had  gotten  deliverance  from  this  so 
dangerous  an  Enemy.  As  they  sat  thus  and  did  eat, 
Christiana  asked  the  Guide ,  If  he  had  caught  no  hurt  in 
the  battle.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  no,  save  a .  little  on 
my  flesh ;  yet  that  also  shall  be  so  far  from  being  to  my 
Determent,  that  it  is  at  present  a  proof  of  my  love  to  my 
Master  and  you,  and  shall  be  a  means  by  Grace  to  encrease 
my  reward  at  last. 

V 

But  was  you  not  afraid,  good  Sir,  when  you     Discourse  of 
see  him  come  out  with  his.  Club?  the  fights. 

It  is  my  Duty,  said  he,  to  distrust  mine  own  ability,  that 
I  may  have  reliance  on  him  that  is  stronger  than  all.  But 
what  did  you  think  when  he  fetched  you  down  to  the  ground 
at  the  Jirst  blow  ?  Why  I  thought,  quoth  he,  that  so  my 
Master  himself  was  served,  and  yet  he  it  was  that  conquered 
at  the  last. 

MATT.    When  you  all  have  thought  what  you  please,  I  think 
God  has  been  wonderful  good  unto  us,  both  in     Mat  here 
bringing  us  out  of  this  Valley,  and  in  delivering     admires 

Goodness. 

us  out  of  the  hand  of  this  Enemy  ;  for  my  part 
I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  distrust  our  God  any  more, 
since  he  has  now,  and  in  such  a  place  as  this,  given  us  such 
testimony  of  his  love  as  this. 

Then  they  got  up  and  went  forward,  now  a  little  before 
them  stood  an  Oak,  and  under  it  when  they 

J        Old  Honest 

came   to   it,  they   found    an    old    Pilgrim  fast     asleep  under 
asleep  ;    they  knew  that  he  was  a  Pilgrim  by 
his  Clothes,  and  his  Staff  and  his  Girdle. 

So  the  Guide  Mr.  Great-heart  awaked  him,  and  the  old 
Gentleman,  as  he  lift  up  his  eyes,  cried  out ;  What's  the 
matter  ?  who  are  you  ?  and  what  is  your  business  here  ? 

GREATH.  Come  man  be  not  so  hot,  here  is  none  but  Friends ; 
yet  the  old  man  gets  up  and  stands  upon  his  guard,  and  will 


294  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

know  of  them  what  they  were.  Then  said  the  Guide,  my 
name  is  Great-heart,  I  am  the  guide  of  these  Pilgrims  which 
are  going  to  the  Coelestial  Country. 

HONEST.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  I  cry  you  mercy ;  I  fear'd 
One  Saint  that  you  had  been  of  the  Company  of  those 

a™oth™fo?hS  that  some  time  aS°  did  rob  Little-faith  of  his 
Enemy.  money ;  but  now  I  look  better  about  me,  I  per- 

ceive you  are  honester  People. 

GREATH.    Whii  what  would,  or  could  you  a 

Talk  between  u  & 

Great-heart          done,  to  a  helped  yourself,  if  we  indeed  had  been 

and  he.  />  .  /     ,  ^ 

oj  that  Lompany  ? 

Hox.  Done !  Why,  I  would  a  fought  as  long  as  Breath 
had  been  in  me  ;  and  had  I  so  done,  I  am  sure  you  could 
never  have  given  me  the  worst  on't ;  for  a  Christian  can  never 
be  overcome,  unless  he  shall  yield  of  himself. 

GREATH.  Well  said,  Father  Honest,  quoth  the  Guide,  for  by 
this  I  know  thou  art  a  Cock  of  the  right  kind,  for  thou  hast 
said  the  Truth. 

Hox.  And  by  this  also  I  know  that  thou  knowest  what 
true  Pilgrimage  is  ;  for  all  others  do  think  that  we  are  the 
soonest  overcome  of  any. 

GREATH.  Well,  now  we  are  so  happily  met,  pray  let  me  crave 
wiimce,  Mr.  your  Name,  and  the  name  of  the  Place  you  came 

Honest  came.  from  ? 

HON.  My  Name  I  cannot,  but  I  came  from  the  Town  of 
Stupidity ;  it  lieth  about  four  Degrees  beyond  the  City  of 
Destruction. 

GREATH.  Oh!  Are  you-  that  Countryman  then?  I  deem  I 
have  half  a  guess  of  you,  your  name  is  old  Honesty,  is  it  not  ? 
So  the  old  Gentleman  blushed,  and  said,  Not  Honesty  in  the 
abstract,  but  Honest  is  my  Name,  and  I  wish  that  my  Nature 
shall  agree  to  what  I  am  called. 

Hox.  But  Sir,  said  the  old  Gentleman,  how  could  you 
guess  that  I  am  such  a  Man,  since  I  came  from  such  a  place  ? 


OLD   MR.    HONEST  295 

GREATH.  /  had  heard  of  you  before,  by  my  Master,  for  he 
knows  all  things  that  are  done  on  the  Earth  : 


ones 
But  I  have  often  wondered  that  any  should  come     <*>™  worse  then 

n  j  n  TI  •  ,7  those  merely 

jrom  your  place  ;  jor  your  1  own  is  worse  than     carnal. 
is  the  city  of  Destruction  itself. 

HON.  Yes,  we  lie  more  off  from  the  Sun,  and  so  are  more 
cold  and  senseless  ;  but  was  a  Man  in  a  Mountain  of  Ice, 
yet  if  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  will  arise  upon  him,  his 
frozen  Heart  shall  feel  a  Thaw  ;  and  thus  it  hath  been 
with  me. 

GREATH.  I  believe  it,  Father  Honest,  I  believe  it,  for  I 
know  the  thing  is  true. 

Then  the  old  Gentleman  saluted  all  the  Pilgrims  with  a 
holy  Kiss  of  Charity,  and  asked  them  of  their  Names,  and 
how  they  had  fared  since  they  set  out  on  their  Pilgrimage. 

CHRIST.  Then  said  Christiana,  My  Name  I   suppose  you 
have  heard   of,  good   Christian  was  my  Hus-     OUHonest 
band,  and  these  four  were  his  Children.     But     and  Christiana 
can   you  think    how  the    old    Gentleman  was 
taken,  when  she  told  them  who   she  was  !    He  skipped,  he 
smiled,  and  blessed   them   with    a   thousand  good  Wishes, 
saying, 

HON.  I  have  heard  much  of  your  Husband,   and   of  his 
Travels  and  Wars  which  he  underwent  in  his  days.     Be  it 
spoken  to  your  Comfort,  the  Name  of  your  Husband  rings  all 
over  these  parts  of  the   World.     His  Faith,  his  Courage,  his 
Enduring,  and  his  Sincerity  under  all,  has  made  his  Name 
Famous.     Then   he  turned  him  to   the  Boys,     He  also  talks 
and  asked  them   of  their  Names,  which  they     wiih  the  *°«"- 
told  him  :    and  then  said  he  unto  them,  Matthew,  be  thou 
like   Mattliew  the  Publican,  not  in  Vice,   but     oldMr> 
in  Virtue.    Samuel,  said  he,  be  thou  like  Samuel     Honest's 

„          .  ,  j     -I)  blessing  on  them. 

the    Prophet,    a    Man    of   laith    and   Prayer. 

Joseph,  said  he,   be  thou  like  Joseph  in  Potiphars  House, 


296  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Chaste,  and  one  that  flies  from  Temptation.  And,  James, 
be  thou  like  James  the  Just,  and  like  James  the  Brother 
of  our  Lord. 

Then  they  told  him  of  Mercy,  and  how  she  had  left  her 
HeUesseth  Town  and  her  Kindred  to  come  along  with 

Mercy.  Christiana,  and  with  her  Sons.  At  that  the 

old  Honest  Man  said,  Mercy,  is  thy  Name  ?  by  Mercy  shalt 
thou  be  sustained,  and  carried  thorough  all  those  Difficulties 
that  shall  assault  thee  in  thy  way ;  till  thou  shalt  come 
thither  where  thou  shalt  look  the  Fountain  of  Mercy  in  the 
Face  with  Comfort. 

All  this  while  the  Guide  Mr.  Great-heart,  was  very  much 
pleased,  and  smiled  upon  his  Companion. 

Now  as  they  walked  along  together,  the  Guide  asked 
Talk  of  one  the  old  Gentleman,  if  he  did  not  know  one 
Mr.  Fearing.  ^fr  fearing  that  came  on  Pilgrimage  out  of  his 

Parts. 

Hox.  Yes,  very  well,  said  he  ;  he  was  a  Man  that  had 
the  Root  of  the  Matter  in  him,  but  he  was  one  of  the 
most  troublesome  Pilgrims  that  ever  I  met  with  in  all 

o 

my   days. 

GREATH.  I  perceive  you  knew  him,  for  you  have  given  a  very 
right  Character  of  him. 

Hox.  Knew  him  !  I  was  a  great  Companion  of  his,  I  was 
with  him  most  an  end  ;  when  he  first  began  to  think  of  what 
would  come  upon  us  hereafter,  I  was  with  him. 

GREATH.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  Masters  House,  to  the 
Gates  of  the  Ccclestial  City. 

Hox.  Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  troublesome  one. 

GREATH.  /  did  so,  but  I  could  very  well  bear  it :  for  Men 
of  my  Calling,  are  oftentimes  intrusted  with  the  Conduct  of 
such  as  he  was. 

Hox.  Well  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little  of  him,  and  how 
he  managed  himself  under  your  Conduct  ? 


MR.   FEARINGS   PILGRIMAGE  297 

_ 
GREATH.  Why  he  was  always  afraid  that  he  should  come 

short  of  whither  he  had  a  desire  to  go.     Every     J/?<  Fearing  s 
thing  friffhtned  him  that  he  heard  any  body     troublesome 

Pilqrimctqe 

speak  of,  that  had  but  the  least  appearance  of 
Opposition  in  it.  I  hear  that  he  lay  roaring  at  the  Slough 
of  Dispond  for  above  a  Month  together,  nor  Ris  behaviour 
durst  he,  for  all  he  saw  several  go  over  before  at  the  slough 
him,  venture,  tho'  they,  many  of  them,  offered 
to  lend  him  their  Hand.  He  would  not  go  back  again 
neither.  The  Ccelestial  City,  he  said  he  should  die  if  he 
came  not  to  it,  and  yet  was  dejected  at  every  Difficulty, 
and  stumbled  at  every  Straw  that  any  body  cast  in  his  way. 
Well,  after  he  had  lain  at  the  Slough  of  Dispond  a  great 
while,  as  I  have  told  you ;  one  sunshine  Morning,  I  do  not 
know  how,  he  ventured,  and  so  got  over.  But  when  he  was 
over,  he  would  scarce  believe  it.  He  had,  I  think,  a  Slough 
of  Dispond  in  his  Mind,  a  Slough  that  he  carried  every 
where  with  him,  or  else  he  could  never  have  been  as  he  was. 
So  he  came  up  to  the  Gate,  you  know  what  I  mean,  that 
stands  at  the  head  of  this  way,  and  there  also  he  stood  a 
good  while  before  he  would  adventure  to  knock.  When 
the  Gate  was  opened  he  would  give  back,  and  His  behaviour 
give  place  to  others,  and  say  that  he  was  not  at  the  Gate> 
worthy.  For,  for  all  he  gat  before  some  to  the  Gate,  yet 
many  of  them  went  in  before  him.  There  the  poor  Man 
would  stand  shaking  and  shrinking :  I  dare  say  it  would  have 
pitied  one's  Heart  to  have  seen  him :  Nor  would  he  go  back 
again.  At  last  he  took  the  Hammer  that  hanged  on  the 
Gate  in  his  hand,  and  gave  a  small  Rap  or  two  ;  then  one 
opened  to  him,  but  he  shrunk  back  as  before.  He  that 
opened  stept  out  after  him,  and  said,  Thou  trembling  one, 
what  wantest  thou  ?  with  that  he  fell  down  to  the  Ground. 
He  that  spoke  to  him  wondered  to  see  him  so  faint.  So  he 
said  to  him,  Peace  be  to  thee,  up,  for  I  have  set  open  the 


298  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Door  to  thee  ;  come  in,  for  thou  art  blest.  With  that 
he  gat  up,  and  went  in  trembling,  and  when  he  was  in,  he 
was  ashamed  to  shew  his  Face.  Well,  after  he  had  been 
entertained  there  a  while,  as  you  know  how  the  manner  is, 
he  was  bid  to  go  on  his  way,  and  also  told  the  way  he 
should  take.  So  he  came  till  he  came  to  our  House,  but 
as  he  behaved  himself  at  the  Gate,  so  he  did  at  my  Master 
the  Interpreters  Door.  He  lay  thereabout  in 

His  behaviour  at  *  J 

the  interpreters  the  Cold  a  good  while,  before  '  he  would 
adventure  to  call  ;  Yet  he  would  not  go  back. 
And  the  Nights  were  long  and  cold  then.  Nay  he  had  a  Note 
of  Necessity  in  his  Bosom  to  my  Master,  to  receive  him,  and 
grant  him  the  Comfort  of  his  House,  and  also  to  allow  him 
a  stout  and  valiant  Conduct,  because  he  was  himself  so 
Chicken-hearted  a  Man  ;  and  yet  for  all  that  he  was  afraid  to 
call  at  the  Door.  So  he  lay  up  and  down  thereabouts  till, 
poor  man,  he  was  almost  starved  ;  yea  so  great  was  his 
Dejection,  that  tho'  he  saw  several  others  for  knocking  got 
in,  yet  he  was  afraid  to  venture.  At  last,  I  think  I  looked 
out  of  the  Window,  and  perceiving  a  man  to  be  up  and 
down  about  the  Door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and  asked  what 
he  was  ;  but,  poor  man,  the  water  stood  in  his  Eyes.  So 
I  perceived  what  he  wanted.  I  went  therefore  in,  and  told 
it  in  the  House,  and  we  shewed  the  thing  to  our  Lord. 
So  he  sent  me  out  again,  to  entreat  him  to  come  in,  but 
I  dare  say  I  had  hard  work  to  do  it.  At  last  he  came  in, 
and  I  will  say  that  for  my  Lord,  he  carried  it  wonderful 
lovingly  to  him.  There  were  but  a  few  good  bits  at  the 
Table  but  some  of  it  was  laid  upon  his  Trencher.  Then 
he  presented  the  Note,  and  my  Lord  looked 


entertained  thereon  and  said  his  Desire  should  be  granted. 

He  is  a  little  So  when  he  had  been  there  a  good  while,  he 

ThTintT1  at  scemed  to  get  some  Hcart'  and  to  be  a  little 

preters  house.  more  Comfortable.     For  my  Master,  you  must 


PLEASANT   IN  HUMILIATION  299 

know,  is  one  of  very  tender  Bowels,  specially  to  them  that 
are  afraid,  wherefore  he  carried  it  so  towards  him,  as  might 
tend  most  to  his  Incouragement.  Well,  when  he  had  had 
a  sight  of  the  things  of  the  place,  and  was  ready  to  take  his 
Journey  to  go  to  the  City,  my  Lord,  as  he  did  to  Christian 
before,  gave  him  a  Bottle  of  Spirits,  and  some  comfortable 
things  to  eat.  Thus  we  set  forward,  and  I  went  before  him  ; 
but  the  man  was  of  few  Words,  only  he  would  sigh  aloud. 

When  we  were  come  to   where  the    three  Fellows   were 
hanged,  he    said,  that  he   doubted    that   that     He  waa  greatly 

would  be  his  end  also.     Only  he  seemed  slad     afraid  ivhen  he 

11  .1        r,  i     ,i        c        i  ,  saw  the  Gibbet, 

when    he  saw    the    L  ross    and    the   sepulchre.     Cheery  when  he 

There  I  confess  he  desired  to  stay  a  little  to  saw  the  Crou- 
look ;  and  he  seemed  for  a  while  after  to  be  a  little  Cheery. 
When  we  came  at  the  Hill  Difficulty,  he  made  no  stick  at 
that,  nor  did  he  much  fear  the  Lions :  for  you  must  know 
that  his  Trouble  was  not  about  such  things  as  those,  his  Fear 
was  about  his  Acceptance  at  last. 

I  got  him  in  at  the  House  Beautiful,  I  think  before  he  was 
willing;    also  when  he  was  in,  I  brought  him     Dumpishat 
acquainted  with  the  Damsels  that  were  of  the     the  house 
Place,  but  he  was   ashamed   to    make  himself 
much  for  Company ;    he  desired  much  to  be  alone,  yet  he 
always    loved    good   talk,  and  often   would  get   behind   the 
Screen  to  hear  it ;  he  also  loved  much  to  see  antient  Things, 
and   to    be  pondering  them    in    his    Mind.      He   told    me 
afterwards,  that  he  loved  to   be  in  those  two  Houses  from 
which  he  came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  Gate,  and  that   of  the 
Interpreters,  but  that  he  durst  not  be  so  bold  to  ask. 

When  we  went  also  from  the  House  Beautiful,  down  the 
Hill,  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  he  went     Hewentdmcn 
down  as  well  as  ever  I  saw  man  in  my  Life,  for     «l'°»  and  «-•«* 

i  -,  i'ii  very  Pleasant 

he  cared  not  how  mean  he  was,  so  he  might  be     in  the  Valley  of 
happy  at  last.     Yea,  I  think  there  was  a  kind     Nummation- 


300  THE   PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

of  a  Sympathy  betwixt  that  Valley  and  him.  For  I  never 
saw  him  better  in  all  his  Pilgrimage,  than  when  he  was  in 
that  Valley. 

Here  he  would  lie  down,  embrace  the  Ground,  and  kiss  the 
very  Flowers  that  grewr  in  this  Valley.  He  would  now  be  up 
every  Morning  by  break  of  Day,  tracing,  and  walking  to  and 
fro  in  this  Valley. 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of  the  Valley  of  the 
Much  perplexed  Shadow  of  Death,  I  thought  I  should  have  lost 

ihethshadowy °f  my  Man ;  not  for  that  he  had  any  Inclination 
of  Death.  to  go  back,  that  he  always  abhorred,  but  he 

was  ready  to  die  for  Fear.  O,  the  Hobgoblins  will  have 
me,  the  Hobgoblins  will  have  me,  cried  he ;  and  I  could  not 
beat  him  out  on't.  He  made  such  a  noise,  and  such  an 
outcry  here,  that,  had  they  but  heard  him,  'twas  enough  to 
encourage  them  to  come  and  fall  upon  us. 

But  this  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that  this  Valley  was  as 
quiet  while  he  went  thorow  it,  as  ever  I  knew  it  before  or 
since.  I  suppose,  those  Enemies  here,  had  now  a  special 
Check  from  our  Lord,  and  a  Command  not  to  meddle  until 
Mr.  Fearing  was  past  over  it. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all ;  we  will  therefore 
only  mention  a  Passage  or  two  more.  When  he  was  come 

His  behaviour  a^  Vanity  Fair,  I  thought  he  would  have  fought 
at  vanity-Fair,  ^fa  a^  the  men  jn  tne  pajr?  j  feared  there  we 

should  both  have  been  knocked  o1  th'  Head,  so  hot  was  he 
against  their  Fooleries ;  upon  the  inchanted  Ground,  he  was 
also  very  wakeful.  But  when  he  was  come  at  the  River 
where  was  no  Bridge,  there  again  he  was  in  a  heavy  Case ; 
now,  now  he  said  he  should  be  drowned  for  ever,  and  so  never 
see  that  Face  with  Comfort,  that  he  had  come  so  many  miles 
to  behold. 

And  here  also  I  took  notice  of  what  was  very  remarkable, 
the  Water  of  that  River  was  lower  at  this  time,  than  ever 


THE   GROUND   OF   MUSICK  301 

I  saw  it  in  all  my  Life ;  so  he  went  over  at  last,  not  much 
above  wet-shod.  When  he  was  going  up  to  the  Gate, 
Mr.  Great-heart  began  to  take  his  Leave  of  him,  and  to  wish 
him  a  good  Reception  above ;  So  he  said,  /  shall,  I  shall. 
Then  parted  we  asunder,  and  I  saw  him  no  more. 

HON.   Then  it  seems  he  was  well  at  last.  #^  Boldness 

GREATH.  Yes,  yes,  I  never  had  doubt  about  at  lasL 
him,  he  was  a  man  of  a  choice  Spirit,  only  he  was  always 
kept  very  low,  and  that  made  his  Life  so  burthensome  to 
himself,  and  so  troublesome  to  others.  He  was  above  many, 
tender  of  Sin ;  he  was  so  afraid  of  doing  injuries  to  others, 
that  he  often  would  deny  himself  of  that  which  was  lawful, 
because  he  would  not  offend. 

HON.  But  what  should  be  the  reason  that  such  a  good  Man 
should  be  all  his  days  so  much  in  the  dark  ? 

GREATH.  There  are  two  sorts  of  Reasons  for  it ;  one  is, 
The  wise  God  will  have  it  so,  Some  must  Pipe,  Reason  u.jt 
and  some  must  Weep  :  Now  Mr.  Fearing  was  o°°d  men  ar^  s° 
one  that  played  upon  this  Base.  He  and  his 
Fellows  sound  the  Sackbut,  whose  Notes  are  more  doleful, 
than  the  Notes  of  other  Musick  are.  Tho1  indeed  some 
say,  The  Base  is  the  Ground  of  Musick.  And  for  my  part 
I  care  not  at  all  for  that  Profession,  that  begins  not  in 
heaviness  of  Mind.  The  first  string  that  the  Musician  usually 
touches,  is  the  Base,  when  he  intends  to  put  all  in  tune.  God 
also  plays  upon  this  string  first,  when  he  sets  the  Soul  in  tune 
for  himself.  Only  here  was  the  imperfection  of  Mr.  Fearing, 
he  could  play  upon  no  other  Musick  but  this  till  towards  his 
latter  end. 

I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  Metaphorically,  for  the  ripening 
of  the  Wits  of  young  Readers,  and  because  in  the  Book  of 
the  Revelations,  the  Saved  are  compared  to  a  company  of 
Musicians  that  play  upon  their  Trumpets  and  Harps,  and 
sing  their  Songs  before  the  Throne. 


302  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Hox.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one  may  see  by  what 
Relation  you  have  given  of  him.  Difficulties,  Lions,  or  Vanity 
Fair,  he  feared  not  at  all:  ''Twas  only  Sin,  Death,  and  Hell, 
that  was  to  him  a  Terror;  because  he  had  some  Doubts  about 
his  Interest  in  that  Coelestial  Country. 

GREATH.  You  say  right.  Those  were  the  things  that  were 
A  Close  about  his  Troublers,  and  they,  as  you  have  well 

observed,  arose  from  the  weakness  of  his  Mind 
thereabout,  not  from  weakness  of  Spirit  as  to  the  practical 
part  of  a  Pilgrims  Life.  I  dare  believe  that  as  the  Proverb 
is,  he  could  have  bit  a  Firebrand,  had  it  stood  in  his  Way. 
But  the  things  with  which  he  was  oppressed,  no  man  ever  yet 
could  shake  off  with  ease. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  This  relation  of  Mr.  Fearing 
Christiana's  has  done  me  good.  I  thought  no  body  had  been 

like  me,  but  I  see  there  was  some  Semblance 
''twi.rt  this  good  man  and  I,  only  we  differed  in  two  things. 
His  Troubles  were  so  great  they  brake  out,  but  mine  I  kept 
within.  His  also  lay  so  hard  upon  him,  they  made  him  that 
he  could  not  knock  at  the  Houses  provided  for  Entertain- 
ment ;  but  my  Trouble  was  always  such,  as  made  me  knock 
the  louder. 

MERCY.  If  I  might  also  speak  my  Heart,  I  must  say  that 
Mercy's  something  of  him  has  also  dwelt  in  me.  For 

I  have  ever  been  more  afraid  of  the  Lake  and 
the  loss  of  a  place  in  Paradise,  than  I  have  been  of  the 
loss  of  other  things.  Oh,  thought  I,  may  I  have  the 
Happiness  to  have  a  Habitation  there,  "'tis  enough,  though 
I  part  with  all  the  World  to  win  it. 

MATT.  Then  said  Matthew,  Fear  ivas  one  thing  that  made 
Matthew's  me  think  that  I  was  far  from,  having  that 

within  me,  that  accompanies  Salvation ;  but  if 
it  was  so  with  such  a  good  man  as  he,  why  may  it  not  also  go 
well  with  me  ? 


MR.   SELFWILL  303 

JAMES.  No  fears,  no  Grace,  said  James.     Tho'  there  is  not 
always  Grace  where  there  is  the  fear  of  Hell ;     januafa 
yet  to  be  sure  there  is  no  Grace  where  there  is     Sentence. 
no  fear  of  God. 

GREATH.    Well  said,  James,  thou  hast  hit  the  Mark,  for  the 

fear  of  God  is  the  beginning'  of  Wisdom  ;  and  to  be  sure  they 

that  want  the  beginning,  have  neither  middle,  nor  end.     But 

we  will  here  conclude  our  discourse  of  Mr.  Fearing,  after  we 

have  sent  after  him  this  Farewell. 

Welly  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear       Ttteir  Farewell 

Thy  God,  and  wast  afraid  about  Mm' 

Of  doing  any  thing,  while  here, 

That  would  have  thee  betray'd. 

And  didst  thou  fear  the  Lake  and  Pit  ? 

Would  others  did  so  too  : 

For,  as  for  them  that  want  thy   Wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo. 

Now  I  saw,  that  they  still  went  on  in  their  Talk.  For  after 
Mr.  Greatheart  had  made  an  end  with  Mr.  Fearing,  Mr.  Honest 
began  to  tell  them  of  another,  but  his  Name  was  Of  Mr.  Self  will. 

o 

Mr.  Selfwill.  He  pretended  himself  to  be  a  Pilgrim,  said 
Mr.  Honest ;  But  I  perswade  my  self,  he  never  came  in  at  the 
Gate  that  stands  at  the  head  of  the  way. 

GREATH.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  with  him  about  it  ? 

HON.  Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice ;  but  he  would  always 
be  like  himself,  self-willed.     He  neither  cared     Oid  Honest 
for   man,   nor    Argument,  nor   yet   Example  ;     M  talked  with 
what  his  Mind  prompted  him  to,  that  he  would 
do,  and  nothing  else  could  he  be  got  to. 

GREATH.  Pray  what  Principles  did  he  hold,  for  I  suppose 
you  can  tell? 

HON.  He  held  that  a  Man  might  follow  the  Vices,  as  well 
as  the  Virtues  of  the  Pilgrims,  and  that  if  he     seifidivs 
did  both,  he  should  be  certainly  saved.  opinions' 


304  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

GREATH.  How?  If  he  had  said,  "'tis  possible  for  the  best  to 
be  guilty  of  the  Vices,  as  well  as  to  partake  of  the  Virtues  of 
Pilgrims*  he  could  not  much  a  been  blamed.  For  indeed  we  are 

. o 

exempted  from  no  Vice  absolutely,  but  on  condition  that  we 
Watch  and  Strive.  But  this  I  perceive  is  not  the  thing.  But 
if  I  understand  you  right,  your  meaning  is,  that  he  was  of 
that  Opinion,  that  it  was  allowable  so  to  be? 

HON.  Ay,  ay,  so  I  mean,  and  so  he  believed  and  practised. 

GREATH.  But  what  Ground  had  he  for  his  so  saying? 

HON.  Why,  he  said  he  had  the  Scripture  for  his  Warrant. 

GREATH.  Prithee,  Mr.  Honest,  present  us  with  a  few  Par- 
ticidars. 

HON.  So  I  will,  He  said  To  have  to  do  with  other  men's 
Wives,  had  been  practised  by  David,  God's  Beloved,  and 
therefore  he  could  do  it.  He  said  to  have  more  Women 
than  one,  was  a  thing  that  Solomon  practised,  and  therefore 
he  could  do  it.  He  said  that  Sarah,  and  the  godly  Mid- 
wives  of  Egypt  lied,  and  so  did  saved  Rahab,  and  therefore 
he  could  do  it.  He  said  that  the  Disciples  went  at  the 
bidding  of  their  Master,  and  took  away  the  Owner's  Ass,  and 
therefore  he  could  do  so  too.  He  said  that  Jacob  got  the 
Inheritance  of  his  Father  in  a  way  of  Guile  and  Dissimulation, 
and  therefore  he  could  do  so  too. 

GREATH.  High  base!   indeed,  and  you  are  sure  he  was  of 
this  Opinion  ? 

HON.  I  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring  Scripture  for  it, 
bring  Argument  for  it,  cj-c. 

GREATH.  An  Opinion  that  is  not  Jit  to  be,  with  any  Allow- 
ance, in  the  World. 

HON.  You  must  understand  me  rightly.  He  did  not  say 
that  any  man  might  do  this ;  but,  that  those  that  had  the 
Virtues  of  those  that  did  such  things,  might  also  do 
the  same. 

GREATH.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a  Conclusion  ?   For 


STRANGE    OPINIONS   IN   THE   WORLD      305 

this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  because  good  men  heretofore  have 
sinned  of  Infirmity,  therefore  he  had  allowance  to  do  it  of 
a  presumptuous  Mind.  Or  if  because  a  Child,  by  the  blast 
of  the  Wind,  or  for  that  it  stumbled  at  a  stone,  fell  down  and 
dejlled  it  self  in  Mire,  therefore  he  might  wilfully  lie  down 
and  wallow  like  a  Boar  therein.  Who  could  a  thought  that 
any  one  could  so  far  a  been  blinded  by  the  power  of  Lust  ? 
But  what  is  written  must  be  true.  They  stumble  at  the  Word, 
being  disobedient,  whereunto  also  they  were  appointed. 

His  supposing  that  such  may  have  the  godly  Mans  Virtues, 
who  addict  themselves  to  their  Vices,  is  also  a  Delusion  as  strong 
as  the  other.  '  Tis  just  as  if  the  Dog  should  say,  I  have,  or 
may  have  the  Qualities  of  the  Child,  because  I  lick  up  its 
stinking  Excrements.  To  eat  up  the  Sin  of  God's  People, 
is  no  sign  of  one  that  is  possessed  with  their  Virtues.  Nor  can 
I  believe  that  one  that  is  of  this  Opinion,  can  at  present  have 
Faith  or  Love  in  him.  But  I  know  you  have  made  strong 
Objections  against  him,  prithee  what  can  lie  say  for  him- 
self? 

HON.  Why,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of  Opinion,  seems 
abundance  more  honest,  then  to  do  it,  and  yet  hold  contrary 
to  it  in  Opinion. 

GREATH.  A  very  wicked  Answer,  for  iho*  to  let  loose  the 
Bridle  to  Lusts,  while  our  Opinions  are  against  such  things, 
is  bad ;  yet  to  sin  and  plead  a  Toleration  so  to  do,  is  worse ; 
the  one  stumbles  Beholders  accidentally,  the  other  pleads  them 
into  the  Snare. 

HON.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind,  that  have  not 
this  man's  mouth,  and  that  makes  going  on  Pilgrimage  of  so 
little  esteem  as  it  is. 

GREATH.   You  have  said  the  Truth,  and  it  is  to  be  lamented. 
But  he  that  feareth  the  King  of  Paradise  shall  come  out  of 
them  all. 

CHRIS.  There  are  strange  Opinions  in  the  World.     I  know 


306  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

one  that  said,  "'twas  time  enough  to  repent  when  they  come 
to  die. 

GREATH.  Such  arc  not  over  wise.  That  man  would  a  been 
loth,  might  he  have  had  a  week  to  run  twenty  mile  in  for  his 
Life,  to  have  deferred  that  Journey  to  the  last  hour  of  that 
Week. 

HON.  You  say  right,  and  yet  the  generality  of  them  that 
count  themselves  Pilgrims,  do  indeed  do  thus.  I  am,  as  you 
see,  an  old  Man,  and  have  been  a  Traveller  in  this  Road  many 
a  day  ;  and  I  have  taken  notice  of  many  things. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  set  out  as  if  they  would  drive 
all  the  World  afore  them,  who  yet  have  in  few  days  died  as 
they  in  the  Wilderness,  and  so  never  gat  sight  of  the  promised 
Land. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  promised  nothing  at  first 
setting  out  to  be  Pilgrims,  and  that  one  would  a  thought 
could  not  have  lived  a  day,  that  have  yet  proved  very  good 
Pilgrims. 

I  have  seen  some,  that  have  run  hastily  forward,  that  again 
have  after  a  little  time,  run  as  fast  just  back  again. 

I  have  seen  some  who  have  spoke  very  well  of  a  Pil- 
grim's Life  at  first,  that  after  a  while,  have  spoken  as  much 
against  it. 

I  have  heard  some,  when  they  first  set  out  for  Paradise, 
say  positively,  there  is  such  a  place,  who  when  they  have 
been  almost  there,  have  come  back  again,  and  said  there 
is  none. 

I  have  heard  some  vaunt  what  they  would  do  in  case  they 
should  be  opposed,  that  have  even  at  a  false  Alarm  fled 
Faith,  the  Pilgrim's  way,  and  all. 

Now  as  they  were  thus  in  their  way,  there  came  one  run- 
Freshnewsof  ning  to  meet  them,  and  said,  Gentlemen,  and 
you  of  the  weaker  sort,  if  you  love  Life,  shift 
for  your  selves,  for  the  Robbers  are  before  you. 


THE    INN    OF   GAIUS  307 

GREATH.  Then   said  Mr.   Greatheart,  They  be  the  three 
that   set    upon   Little-faith   heretofore.     Well,     ipart,  page  153. 

said  he,  we  are  ready  for  them  ;   So  they  went     Greatheart'a 

,     .  XT         J.T-        i      i     j  *  T*  Resolution. 

on  their  way.    Now  they  looked  at  every  1  urn- 
ing  when  they  should  a  met  with  the  Villains.     But  whether 
they  heard  of  Mr.    Greatheart,  or  whether  they  had  some 
other  Game,  they  came  not  up  to  the  Pilgrims. 

CHRIS.  Christiana  then  wished  for  an  Inn  for  herself  and 
her  Children,  because  they  were  weary.     Then     Christiana 
said  Mr.  Honest,  there  is  one  a  little  before  us,     /^  e 
where  a   very  honorable   Disciple,  one   Gains,     Gains. 
dwells.     So  they  all  concluded  to  turn  in  thither ;  and  the 
rather,  because   the    old   Gentleman    gave   him    so    good    a 
Report.     So  when  they  came  to  the  Door,  they     They  enter  into 
went   in,   not  knocking,   for  Folks  use  not  to     hts  Hmtse- 
knock  at  the  Door  of  an  Inn.     Then  they  called  for  the 
Master  of  the  House,  and  he  came  to  them.     So  they  asked 
if  they  might  lie  there  that  Night  ? 

GAIUS.  Yes  Gentlemen,  if  you  be  true  Men,  for  my  House 
is  for  none  but  Pilgrims.  Then  was  Christiana. 

Gains  enter- 
Mercy,  and  the  Boys,  the  more  glad,  for  that     tains  them,  and 

the  Innkeeper  was  a  Lover  of  Pilgrims.  So  they 
called  for  Rooms;    and  he  shewed  them  one  for  Christiana 
and  her  Children   and  Mercy,  and  another  for  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  the  old  Gentleman. 

GREATH.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Good  Gains,  what 
hast  thou  for  Supper?  for  these  Pilgrims  have  come  far 
to  day  and  are  weary. 

GAIUS.  It  is  late,  said  Gains ;  so  we  cannot  conveniently  go 
out  to  seek  Food ;  but  such  as  we  have  you  shall  be  welcome 
to,  if  that  will  content. 

GREATH.  We  will  be  content  with  what  thou  hast  in  the 
House ;  for,  as  much  as  I  have  proved  thee,  thou  art  never 
destitute  of  that  which  is  convenient. 

M 


308  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Then  he  went  down,  and  spake  to  the  Cook,  whose  Name 
Gaius  his  cook.  was  Taste-that-wliich-is-good,  to  get  ready 
Supper  for  so  many  Pilgrims.  This  done,  he  comes  up  again, 
saying,  Come  my  good  Friends,  you  are  welcome  to  me,  and 
I  am  glad  that  I  have  an  House  to  entertain  you ;  and  while 
Supper  is  making  ready,  if  you  please,  let  us  entertain  one 
another  with  some  good  Discourse.  So  they  all  said,  Content. 
Talk  between  GAIUS.  Then  said  Gains,  whose  Wife  is  this 

Gains  and  his       aged  Matron,  and  whose  Daughter  is  this  young 

Guests.  Jr  7  _ 

Damsel  ? 

GREATH.  The  Woman  is  the  Wife  of  one  Christian,  a  Pil- 
grim of  former  times,  and  these  are  his  four  Children.  The 

o 

Maid  is  one  of  her  Acquaintance ;  one  that  she  hath  per- 
MarJcthis.  swaded  to  come  with  her  on  Pilgrimage.  The 

Boys  take  all  after  their  Father,  and  covet  to  tread  in  his 
Steps.  Yea,  if  they  do  but  see  any  place  where  the  old 
Pilgrim  hath  lain,  or  any  print  of  his  Foot,  it  ministreth 
Joy  to  their  Hearts,  and  they  covet  to  lie  or  tread  in  the 
same. 

GAIUS.  Then  said  Gaius,  Is  this  Christianas  Wife,  and  are 
these  Christians  Children  ?  I  knew  your  Husband's  Father, 
yea,  also,  his  Father's  Father.  Many  have  been  good  of  this 
stock,  their  Ancestors  dwelt  first  at  Antioch.  Christians 
Of  Christian's  Progenitors  (I  suppose  you  have  heard  your 
Ancestors.  Husband  talk  of  them)  were  very  worthy  men. 

They  have  above  any  that  I  know,  shewed  themselves  men 
of  great  Virtue  and  Courage  for  the  Lord  of  the  Pilgrims, 
his  ways,  and  them  that  loved  him.  I  have  heard  of  many 
of  your  Husband's  Relations  that  have  stood  all  Trials 
for  the  sake  of  the  Truth.  Stephen  that  was  one  of  the 
first  of  the  Family  from  whence  your  Husband  sprang, 
was  knocked  o'  th'  Head  with  Stones.  James,  another  of  this 
Generation,  was  slain  with  the  edge  of  the  Sword.  To 
say  nothing  of  Paul  and  Peter,  men  antiently  of  the  Family 


MERCYS   MATCH  309 

from  whence  your  Husband  came,  there  was  Ignatius,  who 
was  cast  to  the  Lions ;  Romanus,  whose  Flesh  was  cut  by 
pieces  from  his  Bones  ;  and  Polycarp,  that  played  the  man  in 
the  Fire.  There  was  he  that  was  hanged  up  in  a  Basket  in 
the  Sun,  for  the  Wasps  to  eat ;  and  he  who  they  put  into 
a  Sack  and  cast  him  into  the  Sea,  to  be  drowned.  Twould 
be  impossible,  utterly  to  count  up  all  of  that  Family  that 
have  suffered  Injuries  and  Death,  for  the  love  of  a  Pilgrim's 
Life.  Nor  can  I  but  be  glad  to  see  that  thy  Husband  has 
left  behind  him  four  such  Boys  as  these.  I  hope  they  will 
bear  up  their  Father's  Name,  and  tread  in  their  Father's 
Steps,  and  come  to  their  Father's  End. 

GREATH.  Indeed  Sir,  they  are  likely  Lads ;  they  seem  to 
chuse  heartily  their  Fathers  Ways. 

GAIUS.  That  is  it  that  I  said,  wherefore  Christians  Family 
is  like  still  to  spread  abroad  upon  the  face  of     Adviceto 
the  Ground,  and  yet  to  be  numerous  upon  the     Christiana 
face  of  the  Earth.     Wherefore  let  Christiana 
look  out  some  Damsels  for  her  Sons,  to  whom  they  may  be 
betrothed,  fyc.  that  the  Name  of  their  Father,  and  the  House 
of  his  Progenitors  may  never  be  forgotten  in  the  World. 

HON.  ^Tis  pity  this  Family  should  fall,  and  be  extinct. 

GAIUS.  Fall  it  cannot,  but  be  diminished  it  may.  But 
let  Christiana  take  my  Advice,  and  that's  the  way  to 
uphold  it. 

And  Christiana,  Said  this  Inkeeper,  I  am  glad  to  see  thee 
and  thy  Friend  Mercy  together  here,  a  lovely  Couple.     And 
may  I  advise,  take  Mercy  into  a  nearer  Relation     Mercy  and 
to    thee.     If  she    will,    let   her   be    given   to     Matthew 

mciTry. 

Matthew    thy    eldest    Son.     'Tis    the    way    to 
preserve  you  a  Posterity  in  the  Earth.     So  this  Match  was 
concluded,  and  in  process  of  time  they  were  married.     But 
more  of  that  hereafter. 

GAIUS  also  proceeded,  and  said,  I  will  now  speak  on  the 


310  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

behalf  of  Women,  to  take  away  their  Reproach.  For  as 
Death  and  the  Curse  came  into  the  World  by  a  Woman,  so 
also  did  Life  and  Health ;  God  sent  forth  his  Son,  made  of 
a  Woman.  Yea,  to  shew  how  much  those  that  came  after 
Women  did  abhor  the  Act  of  their  Mother,  this  Sex, 
ired  in  the  old  Testament,  coveted  Children,  if 
children.  happily  this  or  that  Woman  might  be  the 

Mother  of  the  Saviour  of  the  World.  I  will  say  again, 
that  when  the  Saviour  was  come,  Women  rejoyced  in  him, 
before  either  Man  or  Angel.  I  read  not  that  ever  any 
man  did  ffive  unto  Christ  so  much  as  one  Groat,  but  the 

o 

Women  followed  him,  and  ministred  to  him  of  their  Sub- 
stance. 'Twas  a  Woman  that  washed  his  Feet  with  Tears, 
and  a  Woman  that  anointed  his  Body  to  the  Burial.  They 
were  Women  that  wept,  when  he  was  going  to  the  Cross ; 
and  Women  that  followed  him  from  the  Cross,  and  that  sat 
by  his  Sepulchre  when  he  was  buried.  They  were  Women 
that  was  first  with  him  at  his  Resurrection-morn,  and  Women 
that  brought  Tiding  first  to  his  Disciples  that  he  was  risen 
from  the  Dead.  Women  therefore  are  highly  favoured,  and 
shew  by  these  things  that  they  are  sharers  with  us  in  the 
Grace  of  Life. 

Now  the  Cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  Supper  was  almost 
Supper  ready.  ready,  and  sent  one  to  lay  the  Cloth,  the 
Trenchers,  and  to  set  the  Salt  and  Bread  in  order. 

Then  said  Matthew,  the  sight  of  this  Cloth,  and  of  this 
Forerunner  of  a  Supper,  begetteth  in  me  a  greater  Appetite  to 
my  Food  than  I  had  before. 

GAIUS.  So  let  all  ministring  Doctrines  to  thee  in  this  Life, 
What  to  be  beget  in  thee  a  greater  desire  to  sit  at  the 

la^o/ue1  Supper  of  the  great  King  in  his  Kingdom  ;  for 
Board  loith  the,  a]j  Preaching.  Books  and  Ordinances  here,  are 

Cloth  and  i       .  o  rn  i 

Trenchers.  but   as   the   laying   of  the    .Trenchers,  and  as 

setting  of  Salt  upon   the   Board,  when  compared  with  the 


SUPPER   AT   THE   INN  311 

Feast  that  our  Lord  will  make  for  us  when  we  come  to  his 
House. 

So  Supper  came  up,  and  first  a  Heave-shoulder  and  a  Wave- 
Breast  was  set  on  the  Table  before  them,  to  shew  that  they 
must  begin  their  Meal  with  Prayer  and  Praise  to  God.  The 
heave-shoulder  David  lifted  his  Heart  up  to  God  with,  and 
with  the  wave-Breast,  where  his  Heart  lay,  with  that  he  used 
to  lean  upon  his  Harp  when  he  played.  These  two  Dishes  were 
very  fresh  and  good,  and  they  all  eat  heartily-well  thereof. 

The  next  they  brought  up,  was  a  Bottle  of  Wine,  red  as 
Blood.  So  Gains  said  to  them,  Drink  freely,  this  is  the  Juice 
of  the  true  Vine,  that  makes  glad  the  Heart  of  God  and  Man. 
So  they  drank  and  were  merry. 

The  next  was  a  Dish  of  Milk  well  crumbed.  But  Gains 
said,  Let  the  Boys  have  that,  that  they  may  A  Dish  of  Milk, 
grow  thereby. 

Then  they  brought  up  in  course  a  dish  of  Butter  and  Hony. 
Then  said  Gains,  Eat  freely  of  this,  for  this  is     of  Hony  and 
good  to  cheer  up,  and  strengthen  your  Judg- 
ments and  Understandings.     This  was  our  Lords  Dish  when 
he  was  a  Child.     Butter  and  Hony  shall  he  eat,  that  he  may 
knozv  to  refuse  the  Evil,  and  chuse  the  Good. 

Then  they  brought  them  up  a  dish  of  Apples,  and  they 
were  very  good  tasted  Fruit.     Then  said  Mat-     A  DMI  of 
thew,  May  we  eat  Apples,  since  they  were  such,     APPI€S- 
by,  and  with  which,  the  Serpent  beguiled  our  first  Mother  ? 

Then  said  Gains, 

Apples  were  they  with  which  we  were  beguiFd, 
Yet  Sin,  not  Apples  hath  our  Souls  dejiFd. 
Apples  forbid,  if  eat,  corrupts  the  Blood. 
To  eat  such,  when  commanded,  does  us  good. 
Drink  of  his  Flagons  then,  thou  Church,  his  Dove, 
And  eat  his  Apples,  who  are  sick  of  Love. 


312  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Then  said  Matthew,  I  made  the  Scruple,  because  I  awhile 
since,  was  sick  with  eating  of  Fruit. 

GAIUS.  Forbidden  Fruit  will  make  you  sick  ;  but  not  what 
our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking,  they  were  presented  with  an 
A  Dish  of  Nuts,  other  Dish  ;  and  "'twas  a  dish  of  Nuts.  Then 
said  some  at  the  Table,  Nuts  spoil  tender  Teeth ;  specially 
the  Teeth  of  Children.  Which  when  Gaius  heard,  he  said, 

Hard  Texts  are  Nuts  (7  will  not  call  them  Cheaters), 
Whose  Shells  do  keep  their  Kernels  from  the  Eaters. 
Ope  then  the  Shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  Meat, 
They  here  are  brought,  for  you  to  crack  and  eat. 

Then  were  they  very  Merry,  and  sat  at  the  Table  a  long 
time,  talking  of  many  Things.  Then  said  the  Old  Gentleman, 
My  good  Landlord,  while  we  are  cracking  your  Nuts,  if  you 
please,  do  you  open  this  Riddle. 


A  mddie put      ^  man  tJtere  was  thrf  some  a'ta  count  him  mad. 

forth  by  old 

Honest.  The  more  he  cast  away,  the  more  he  had. 

Then  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondring  what  good  Gaius 
would  say,  so  he  sat  still  a  while,  and  then  thus  replied : 

He  that  bestows  his  Goods  upon  the  Poor. 

Gaius  opens  it. 

shall  have  as  much  again,  and  ten  times  more. 

Joseph  Then  said  Joseph,  I  dare  say  Sir,  I  did  not 

wmders.  tnink    you    CQU]d   ft   f()un(|    jt   out< 

Oh  !  Said  Gaius,  I  have  been  trained  up  in  this  way  a  great 
while.  Nothing  teaches  like  Experience.  I  have  learned  of 
my  Lord  to  be  kind,  and  have  found  by  experience,  that 
I  have  gained  thereby.  There  is  that  scattereth,  yet  increaseth, 
and  there  is  that  witholdeth  more  than  is  meet,  but  it  tendeth 
to  Poverty.  There  is  that  mdketh  himself  Rich,  yet  hath 


THE   RIDDLE  313 

nothing,  There  is  that  maketli  himself  poor,  yet  hath  great 
Riches. 

Then  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana  his  Mother,  and  said, 
Mother,  this  is  a  very  good  man's  House,  let  us  stay  here 
a  good  while,  and  let  my  Brother  Matthew  be  married  here  to 
Mercy,  before  we  go  any  further. 

The  which  Gains  the  Host  overhearing,  said,  With  a  very 
good  Will,  my  Child. 

So   they   staid   there    more   than   a  Month,     Matthew  and 

,,..  .  »,       T  i.r./.  Mercy  are 

and  Mercy  was  given  to  Matthew  to  Wife.  married. 

While  they  stayed  here,  Mercy  as  her  Custom  was,  would 
be  making  Coats  and  Garments  to  give  to  the  Poor,  by  which 
she  brought  up  a  very  good  Report  upon  the  Pilgrims. 

But  to  return  again  to  our  Story.  After  Supper,  the  lads 
desired  a  Bed,  for  that  they  were  weary  with 

J  J  T/l&  Boys  go  to 

Travelling.     Then  Gains  called  to  shew  them     bed,  the  rest  sit 

their  Chamber,  but   said    Mercy,  I   will    have 

them  to  Bed.     So  she  had  them  to  Bed,  and  they  slept  well, 

but  the  rest  sat  up  all  Night.     For  Gains  and  they  were  such 

suitable  Company,  that  they   could   not  tell  how   to  part. 

Then  after  much  talk  of  their  Lord,  themselves,  and  their 

Journey,  old  Mr.  Honest,  he  that  put  forth   the  Riddle  to 

Gains,  began  to  nod.     Then   said  Great-heart,     oid  Honest 

What  Sir,  you  begin  to  be  drowzy,  come,  rub     nods- 

up,  now  here's  a  Riddle  for  you.     Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  let's 

hear  it. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart, 

He  that  will  kill,  must  Jirst  be  overcome :     A  Riddle, 
Who  live  abroad  would,  Jirst  must  die  at  home. 

Hah,  said  Mr.  Honest,  it  is  a  hard  one,  hard  to  expound, 
and  harder  to  practise.  But  come  Landlord,  said  he,  I  will 
if  you  please,  leave  my  part  to  you ;  do  you  expound  it,  and 
I  will  hear  what  you  say. 


314  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

No  said  Gains,  'twas  put  to  you,  and  'tis  expected  that 
you  should  answer  it. 

Then  said  the  Old  Gentleman, 

The  Riddle  He  Jirst  by  Grace  must  conquer  d  be, 

opened.  Tliat  Sin  would  mortify. 

And  who,  that  lives,  would  convince  me, 

Unto  himself  must  die. 

It  is  right,  said  Gains,  good  Doctrine  and  Experience 
teaches  this.  For  first,  until  Grace  displays  itself,  and  over- 
comes the  Soul  with  its  Glory,  it  is  altogether  without  Heart 
to  oppose  Sin.  Besides,  if  Sin  is  Satan's  Cords,  by  which  the 
Soul  lies  bound,  how  should  it  make  Resistance,  before  it  is 
loosed  from  that  Infirmity  ? 

Secondly,  Nor  will  any  that  knows  either  Reason  or  Grace, 
believe  that  such  a  man  can  be  a  living  Monument  of  Grace, 
that  is  a  Slave  to  his  own  Corruptions. 

And  now  it  comes  in  my  Mind,  I  will  tell  you  a  Story, 
worth  the  hearing.  There  were  two  Men  that 

A  Question 

north  the  went  on  Pilgrimage,  the  one  began  when  he  was 

young,  the  other  when  he  was  old.  The  young 
Man  had  strong  Corruptions  to  grapple  with,  the  old  Mans 
were  decayed  with  the  decays  of  Nature.  The  young  man 
trod  his  steps  as  even  as  did  the  old  one,  and  was  every  way 
as  light  as  he ;  who  now,  or  which  of  them,  had  their  Graces 
shining  clearest,  since  both  seemed  to  be  alike? 

Hox.  The  young  Mans  doubtless.  For  that  which  heads 
A  Comparison.  it  against  the  greatest  Opposition,  gives  best 
demonstration  that  it  is  strongest.  Specially  wlioi  it  also 
holdeth  pace  with  that  that  meets  not  with  half  so  much  ;  as 
to  be  sure  old  Age  does  not. 

Besides,  I  have  observed  that  old  men  have  blessed  them- 
A  mistake.  selves  with  this  mistake ;  Namely,  taking  the 

*/  *  O 


GIANT   SLAY-GOOD  315 

decays  of  Nature,  for  a  gracious  Conquest  over  Corruptions, 
and  so  have  been  apt  to  beguile  themselves.  Indeed  old  men 
that  are  gracious,  are  best  able  to  give  Advice  to  them  that 
are  young,  because  they  have  seen  most  of  the  emptiness 
of  things.  But  yet,  for  an  old  and  a  young  to  set  out  both 
together,  the  young  one  has  the  advantage  of  the  fairest 
discovery  of  a  work  of  Grace  within  him,  tho'  the  old  Man's 
Corruptions  are  naturally  the  weakest. 

Thus  they  sat  talking  till  break  of  Day.     Now  when  the 
Family  was  up,  Christiana  bid  her  Son  James  that  he  should 
read  a  Chapter ;  so  he  read  the  53rd  of  Isaiah.     When  he 
had   done,  Mr.  Honest  asked  why  it  was  said,     Another 
That  the  Saviour  is  said  to  come  out  of  a  dry     0"***°"- 
ground,    and    also   that    he   had    no   Form    nor   Comeliness 
in  him  ? 

GREATH.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  To  the  first  I  answer, 
because,  The  Church  of  the  Jews,  of  which  Christ  came,  had 
then  lost  almost  all  the  Sap  and  Spirit  of  Religion.  To  the 
second  I  say,  The  Words  are  spoken  in  the  Person  of  the 
Unbelievers,  who  because  they  want  that  Eye,  that  can  see 
into  our  Prince's  Heart,  therefore  they  judge  of  him  by  the 
meanness  of  his  Outside. 

Just  like  those  that  know  not  that  precious  Stones  are 
covered  over  with  a  homely  Crust ;  who  when  they  have  found 
one,  because  they  know  not  what  they  have  found,  cast  it 
again  away  as  men  do  a  common  Stone. 

Well,  said  Gaius,  Now  you  are  here,  and  since,  as  I  know, 
Mr.  Great-heart  is  good  at  his  Weapons,  if  you  please,  after 
we  have  refreshed  ourselves,  we  will  walk  into  the  Fields,  to 
see  if  we  can  do  any  good.  About  a  mile  from  hence,  there 
is  one  Slay-good,  a  Giant,  that  doth  much  annoy  the  King's 
Highway  in  these  parts.  And  I  know  whereabout  his  Haunt 
is.  He  is  Master  of  a  number  of  Thieves  ;  'twould  be  well  if 
we  could  clear  these  Parts  of  him. 

M3 


316  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

So  they  consented  and  went,  Mr.  Great-heart  with  his  Sword, 
Helmet,  and  Shield ;  and  the  rest  with  Spears  and  Staves. 

When  they  came  to  the  place  where  he  was,  they  found 
He  is  found  him  with  one  Feeble-mind  in  his  Hands,  whom 
n^s  Servants  had  brought  unto  him,  having 
taken  him  iii  the  Way;  now  the  Giant  was 
rifling  of  him,  with  a  purpose  after  that  to  pick  his  Bones. 
For  he  was  of  the  nature  of  Flesh-eaters. 

Well,  so  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  Friends  at 
the  Mouth  of  his  Cave  with  their  Weapons,  he  demanded 
what  they  wanted  ? 

GIIEATH.  We  want  thee  ;  for  we  are  come  to  revenge  the 
Quarrel  of  the  many  that  thou  hast  slain  of  the  Pilgrims, 
when  thou  hast  dragged  them  out  of  the  King's  High-way; 
wherefore  come  out  of  thy  Cave.  So  he  armed  himself  and 

t/ 

came  out,  and  to  a  Battle  they  went,  and  fought  for  above  an 
Hour,  and  then  stood  still  to  take  Wind. 

SLAYGOOD.  Then  said  the  Giant,  why  are  you  here  on  my 
Ground? 

GREATH.  To  revenge  the  Blood  of  Pilgrims,  as  I  also  told 
thee  before ;  so  they  went  to  it  again,  and  the 

Giant  Slat/-  J 

good  assaulted       Giant  made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back,  but  he 

and  slain.  •  i     •        1 1  p    i  • 

came  up  again,  and  in  the  greatness  ot  his 
Mind,  he  let  fly  with  such  stoutness  at  the  Giant's  Head 
and  Sides,  that  he  made  him  let  his  Weapon  fall  out  of 
his  Hand.  So  he  smote  him  and  slew  him,  and  cut  off  his 
One  Feeble  Head,  and  brought  it  away  to  the  Inn.  He 

mind  resetted        also  took  Feeble-mind  the  Pilgrim,  and  brought 

from  the  Giant.      ,  .  . .,      ,  .  ,  .      ,       -,     .  ~.,n  ,1 

him  with  him  to  his  Lodgings.  When  they 
were  come  home,  they  shewed  his  Head  to  the  Family,  and 
then  set  it  up  as  they  had  done  others  before,  for  a  Terror 
to  those  that  should  attempt  to  do  as  he,  hereafter. 

Then  they  asked  Mr.  Feeble-mind  how  he  fell  into  his 
hands  ? 


MR.    FEEBLE-MIND   AS   PILGRIM  317 

FEEBLEM.   Then  said  the  poor  man,  I  am  a  sickly  man,  as 
you  see,  and  because  Death  did  usually  once 

J  J  IIoiv  Feeble- 

a  day  knock  at  my  Door,  I  thought  I  should     mind  came  to 

never  be  well  at  home.  So  I  betook  myself  to 
a  Pilgrim's  Life ;  and  have  travelled  hither  from  the  Town 
of  Uncertain,  where  I  and  my  Father  were  born.  I  am 
a  man  of  no  strength  at  all  of  Body,  nor  yet  of  Mind, 
but  would,  if  I  could,  tho'  I  can  but  crawl,  spend  my  Life 
in  the  Pilgrim's  way.  When  I  came  at  the  Gate  that  is  at 
the  head  of  the  Way,  the  Lord  of  that  place  did  entertain 
me  freely.  Neither  objected  he  against  my  weakly  Looks, 
nor  against  my  Feeble  Mind;  but  gave  me  such  things  that 
were  necessary  for  my  Journey,  and  bid  me  hope  to  the  end. 
When  I  came  to  the  House  of  the  Interpreter,  I  received 
much  Kindness  there,  and  because  the  Hill  Difficulty  was 
judged  too  hard  for  me,  I  was  carried  up  that  by  one  of  his 
Servants.  Indeed  I  have  found  much  Relief  from  Pilgrims, 

o 

tho"*  none  was  willing  to  go  so  softly  as  I  am  forced  to  do. 
Yet  still  as  they  came  on,  they  bid  me  be  of  good  Cheer,  and 
said,  that  it  was  the  will  of  their  Lord  that  Comfort  should 
be  given  to  the  feeble-minded,  and  so  went  on  their  own  pace. 
When  I  was  come  up  to  Assault-Lane,  then  this  Giant  met 
with  me,  and  bid  me  prepare  for  an  encounter ;  but  alas,  feeble 
one  that  I  was,  I  had  more  need  of  a  Cordial.  So  he  came  up 
and  took  me ;  I  conceited  he  should  not  kill  me ;  also  when 
he  had  got  me  into  his  Den,  since  I  went  not  with  Mark  this. 
him  willingly,  I  believed  I  should  come  out  alive  again.  For 
I  have  heard,  that  not  any  Pilgrim  that  is  taken  Captive  by 
violent  Hands,  if  he  keeps  Heart-whole  towards  his  Master, 
is  by  the  Laws  of  Providence  to  die  by  the  Hand  of  the 
Enemy.  Robbed,  I  looked  to  be,  and  Robbed  to  be  sure  I  am  ; 
but  I  am  as  you  see  escaped  with  Life,  for  the  which  I  thank 
my  King  as  Author,  and  you,  as  the  Means.  Other  Brunts 
I  also  look  for,  but  this  I  have  resolved  on,  to  wit,  to  run 


318  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

when  I  can,  to  go  when  I  cannot  run,  and  to  creep  when 
Mark  this.  I  cannot  go.  As  to  the  main,  I  thank  him 

that  loves  me,  I  am  fixed ;  my  way  is  before  me,  my  mind 
is  beyond  the  River  that  has  no  Bridge,  tho1  I  am,  as  you 
see,  but  of  a  feeble  Mind. 

HON.  Then  said  old  Mr.  Honest,  Have  not  you  some  time 
ago,  been  acquainted  with  one  Mr.  Fearing,  a  Pilgrim  ? 

FEEBLEM.  Acquainted  with  him  ;  Yes.  He  came  from  the 
Mr.  Fearing  Town  of  Stupidity,  which  lieth  four  Degrees  to 
Mr.  Feeble-  the  Northward  of  the  City  of  Destruction,  and 

mind's  Uncle.  m      c     ,  T  •,  ,  ,- 

as  many  oft,  01  where  1  was  born ;  i  et  we  were 
well  acquainted,  for  indeed  he  was  mine  Uncle,  my  Father's 
Brother ;  he  and  I  have  been  much  of  a  Temper,  he  was 
a  little  shorter  than  I,  but  yet  we  were  much  of  a  Com- 
plexion. 

HON.  I  perceive  you  know  him,  and  I  am  apt  to  believe  also 
Feeble-mind  that  you  were  related  one  to  another ;  for  yon 
JMT  SFearintfs  have  his  whitely  Look,  a  Cast  like  his  with  your 
Features.  Eye,  and  your  Speech  is  much  alike. 

FEEBLEM.  Most  have  said  so,  that  have  known  us  both, 
and  besides,  what  I  have  read  in  him,  I  have  for  the  most 
part,  found  in  my  self. 

GAIUS.  Come  Sir,  said  good  Gaius,  be  of  good  Cheer,  you 

Gaius  Comforts     are  welcome  to  me,  and  to  my  House ;   and  what 

thou  hast  a  mind  to,  call  for  freely ;   and  what 

thou  wonhVst  have  my  Servants  do  for  thee,  they  will  do  it 

with  a  ready  Mind. 

FEEBLEM.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  This  is  unexpected 
Notice  to  be  Favor,  and  as  the  Sun,  shining  out  of  a  very 

taken  of  dark  Cloud.  Did  Giant  Slay-good  intend  me 

Providence.  .  i          i  ,1  i  11 

this  ravor  when  he  stopci  me,  and  resolved  to 
let  me  go  no  further?  Did  he  intend  that  after  he  had 

rifled  my  Pockets,  I  should  go  to  Gaius  mine  Host!  Yet  so 

•  i    • 
it  is. 


GAIUS   AND   THE   RECKONING  319 

Now,  just  as  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gains  was  thus  in  talk, 
there   comes    one   running   and   called   at   the     Tidings 


Door,  and  told,  That  aboSt  a  Mile  and  an  half    Si^SSn 
off,  there  was  one  Mr.  Not-right,  a  Pilgrim,     « Thunder-boJt, 

,  9      I  .  ,        and  Mr.  Feelle- 

struck  dead  upon  the  place  where  he  was,  with     7/ifa<r«  Com- 

a    Thunder-bolt.  mention  it. 

FEEBLEM.  Alas  !  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  is  he  slain  ?  He 
overtook  me  some  days  before  I  came  so  far  as  hither,  and 
would  be  my  Company-keeper.  He  also  was  with  me  when 
Slay-good  the  Giant  took  me,  but  he  was  nimble  of  his  Heels, 
and  escaped.  But  it  seems,  he  escaped  to  die,  and  I  was 
took  to  live. 

What,  one  would  think,  doth  seek  to  slay  outright 

Ofttimes  delivers  from  the  saddest  Plight. 

That  very  Providence,  whose  Face  is  Death, 

Doth  oft  times,  to  the  Lowly,  Life  bequeath. 

/  taken  was,  he  did  escape  and  jlee, 

Hands  Crost,  gives  Death  to  him,  and  Life  to  me. 

Now  about  this  time  Matthew  and  Mercy  was  Married ; 
also  Gaius  gave  his  Daughter  Phcebe  to  James,  Matthezvs 
Brother,  to  Wife ;  after  which  time,  they  yet  stayed  above 
ten  days,  at  Gaius^s  House,  spending  their  time  and  the 
Seasons,  like  as  Pilgrims  use  to  do. 

When  they  were  to  depart,  Gaius  made  them  a  Feast,  and 
they  did  eat  and  drink,  and  were  merry.     Now     rite  Pilgrims 
the  Hour  was  come  that  they  must  be  gone,     prepare  to  go 

"fot^OQ/Fcii 

wherefore  Mr.  Great-heart  called  for  a  Reckon- 
ing.    But  Gaius  told  him  that  at  his  House,  it  was  not  the 
Custom  for  Pilgrims  to  pay  for  their  Entertainment.     He 
boarded   them   by  the   year,   but  looked   for  his  Pay  from 
the  good  Samaritan,  who  had  promised  him  at     HOW  they  greet. 

,.  ,  „,  \  .  ,        one  another  at 

his  return,  whatsoever  Charge  he  was  at  with    parting. 


320  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

them,  faithfully  to   repay  him.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart 
to  him. 

GREATH.  Beloved,  thou  dost  faithfully ',  whatsoever  thou  dost, 
to  the  Brethren  and  to  Strangers,  which  have  borne  Witness  of 
thy   Charity  before   the   Church,   whom    if  thou   (yet)  bring 
forward   on    their  Journey    after  a    Godly    sort,   thou    shalt 
do   well. 

Then  Gains  took  his  Leave  of  them  all  and  of 

uaius  his  last 

kindness  to  his  Children,  and   particularly  of  Mr.  Feeble- 

Feeble-mind.  •     7        TT         i  i  •  xi  •  j    •    i 

mind.  He  also  gave  him  something  to  drink 
by  the  way. 

Now  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  when  they  were  going  out  of  the 
door,  made  as  if  he  intended  to  linger.  The  which,  when 
Mr.  Great-heart  espied,  he  said,  Come,  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  Pray 
do  you  go  along  with  us,  I  will  be  your  Conductor,  and  you 
shall  fair  as  the  rest. 

FEEBLEM.  Alas,  I  want  a  suitable  Companion,  you  are  all 
F  ,,  .,  lusty  and  strong,  but  I,  as  you  see,  am  weak, 
forgoing  /  chuse  therefore  rather  to  come  behind,  lest, 

by  reason  of  my  many  Infirmities^  I  should 
be  both  a  Burthen  to  myself  and  to  you.  I  am,  as  I  said, 
a  man  of  a  weak  and  feeble  Mind,  and  shall  be  offended  and 
made  weak  at  that  which  others  can  bear.  I  shall  like  no 
Laughing ;  I  shall  like  no  gay  Attire,  I  shall  like  no  unprofitable 
Questions.  Nay,  I  am  so  weak  a  Man,  as  to  be  offended  with 
His  Excuse  for  that  which  others  have  a  liberty  to  do.  I  do 

not  yet  know  all  the  Truth ;  I  am  a  very 
ignorant  Christian  man  ;  sometimes  if  I  hear  some  rejoice 
in  the  Lord,  it  troubles  me  because  I  cannot  do  so  too. 
It  is  with  me  as  it  is  with  a  weak  Man  among  the  strong, 
or  as  with  a  sick  Man  among  the  healthy,  or  as  a  Lamp 
despised,  (He  that  is  ready  to  slip  with  his  Feet,  is  as  a 
Lamp  despised  in  the  Thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease.)  So 
that  I  know  not  what  to  do. 


MR.    READY-TO-HALT  321 

GREATH.  But  Brother,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  have  it  in 
Commission,  to  comfort  the  feeble-minded,  and     Great-heart's 
to    support   the    weak.     You    must    needs    go     Commission, 
along  with  us ;  we  will  wait  for  you,  we  will  lend  you  our 
help,  we   will  deny  ourselves  of  some    things,     A  Chri8tiat 
both  Opinionative  and  Practical,  for  your  sake  ;     Spirit. 
we  will  not  enter  into  Doubtful  Disputations  before  you,  we 
will  be  made  all  things  to  you  rather  than  you  shall  be  left 
behind. 

Now,  all  this  while  they  were  at  GaiuJs  Door  ;  and  behold 
as  they  were  thus  in  the  heat  of  their  Discourse,     Promises. 
Mr.  Ready-to-halt  came  by,  with  his  Crutches  in  his  hand, 
and  he  also  was  going  on  Pilgrimage. 

FEEBLEM.   Then  said  Mr.  Feeblemind  to  him,  Man!   How 
contest  thou  hither?  I  was  but  just  now  complain- 
ing that  I  had  not  a  suitable  Companion,  but  thou     glad  to  see 
art  according  to  my  wish.      Welcome,  welcome,     fom^b^^ 
good  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  /  hope  thee  and  I  may 
be  some  help. 

READY-TO-HALT.  I  shall  be  glad  of  thy  Company,  said  the 
other ;  and  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  rather  than  we  will  part, 
since  we  are  thus  happily  met,  I  will  lend  thee  one  of  my 
Crutches. 

FEEBLEM.  Nay,  said  he,  tho"1  I  thank  thee  for  thy 
good  Will,  I  am  not  inclined  to  halt  afore  I  am  Lame. 
How  be  it,  I  think  when  occasion  is,  it  may  help  me  against 
a  Dog. 

READYTO.  If  either  myself,  or  my  Crutches  can  do  thee 
a  pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy  Command,  good  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind. 

Thus  therefore  they  went  on,  Mr.  Greatheart,  and  Mr. 
Honest  went  before,  Christiana  and  her  Children  went  next, 
and  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  came  behind 
with  his  Crutches.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest, 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Hox.  Pray  Sir,  now  we  are  upon  the  Road,  tell  us  some 
New  Talk.  profitable  things  of  some  that  have  gone  on 

Pilgrimage  before  us. 

GREATH.     With  a  good  Will.     I  suppose  you  have  heard 

how  Christian  of  old,  did  meet  with  Apollyon  in  the  Valley  of 

Humiliation,  and  also  what  hard  work  he  had  to  go  thorow 

the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.     Also  I  think  you  cannot 

but  have  heard  how  Faithful  was  put  to  it  with 

i  part,  from  ** 

page  86  to  Madam    Wanton,    with   Adam    the   first,   with 

one  Discontent,  and  Shame ;    four  as  deceitful 
Villains,  as  a  man  can  meet  with  upon  the  Road. 

HON.  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  all  this ;  but  indeed  good 
Faithful  was  hardest  put  to  it  with  Shame ;  he  was  an 
unwearied  one. 

GREATH.  Ay,  for  as  the  Pilgrim  well  said,  He  of  all  men 
had  the  wrong  Name. 

HON.  But  prau  Sir  where  was  it  that  Christian 

i  part,  from  *       & 

page  93  to  and  Faithful  met  Talkative  ?  that  same  was  also 

page  103.  , , 

a  notable  one. 

GREATH.  He  was  a  confident  Fool,  yet  many  follow  his 
ways. 

Hox.  He  had  like  to  a  beguiled  Faithful. 

GREATH.  Ay,  but  Christian  put  him  into  a  way  quickly  to 
find  him  out.  Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  at  the  place 
Page  105-109.  where  Evangelist  met  with  Christian  and  Faith- 
ful, and  prophecied  to  them  of  what  should  befall  them  at 
Vanity-Fair. 

GREATH.  Then  said  their  Guide,  Hereabouts  did  Christian 
and  Faithful  meet  with  Evangelist,  who  prophecied  to  them 
of  what  Troubles  they  should  meet  with  at  Vanity-Fair. 

HON.  Say  you  so !  I  dare  say  it  was  a  hard  Chapter  Unit 
then  he  did  read  unto  them  ? 

GREATH.  "Twas  so,  but  he  gave  them  encouragement 
withal.  But  what  do  we  talk  of  them,  they  were  a  couple 


MR.    MNASON   THE    CYPRUSIAN  323 

of  Lion-like  Men  ;  they  had  set  their  Faces  like  Flint.    Don't 
you  remember  how  undaunted  they  were  when     ,  part^  page 
they  stood  before  the  Judge?  114-121. 

HON.    Well  Faithful  bravely  Suffered  ? 

GREATH.  So  he  did,  and  as  brave  things  came  on't.  For 
Hopeful  and  some  others,  as  the  Story  relates  it,  were  Con- 
verted by  his  Death. 

HON.  Well,  but  pray  go  on ;  for  you  are  well  acquainted 
with  things. 

GREATH.  Above  all  that  Christian  met  with  after  he  had 
past  thorow  Vanity-Fair,  one  By-ends  was  the     i  part,  page 
arch  one. 

HON.  By-Ends  ,•   What  was  he  ? 

GREATH.  A  very  arch  Fellow,  a  down-right  Hypocrite ; 
one  that  would  be  Religious,  which  way  ever  the  World 
went,  but  so  cunning,  that  he  would  be  sure  neither  to  lose, 
nor  suffer  for  it. 

He  had  his  Mode  of  Religion  for  every  fresh  Occasion,  and 
his  Wife  was  as  good  at  it  as  he.  He  would  turn  and  change 
from  Opinion  to  Opinion ;  yea,  and  plead  for  so  doing  too. 
But  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill  End  with  his 
By-Ends,  nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  any  of  his  Children  was 
ever  of  any  Esteem  with  any  that  truly  feared  God. 

Now  by  this  Time,  they  were  come  within  sight  of  the 
Town  of  Vanity,  where  Vanity-Fair  is  kept.     So     Thej/  are  come 
when    they    saw   that   they  were    so  near   the     within  Sight  of 
Town,  they  consulted   with  one   another  how 
they  should  pass  thorow  the  Town,  and  some  said  one  thing, 
and   some   another.     At  last   Mr.  Great-heart,  said,  I  have, 
as  you  may  understand,  often  been  a  Conductor  of  Pilgrims 
thorow    this    Town.      Now    I    am     acquainted    with    one 
Mr.  Mnason,  a  Cyprusian  by  Nation,  an  old 

Vf  J  They  enter  into 

Disciple,  at  whose  House  we  may  Lodge.     If    one  Mr.  Mna- 
you  think  good,  said  he,  we  will  turn  in  there  ? 


THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Content,  said  Old  Honest ;  Content,  said  Christiana  ;  Con- 
tent, said  Mr.  Feeble-mind;  and  so  they  said  all.  Now  you 
must  think  it  was  Even-tide,  by  that  they  got  to  the  outside 
of  the  Town,  but  Mr.  Great-heart  knew  the  way  to  the  Old 
Man's  House.  So  thither  they  came ;  and  he  called  at  the 
Door,  and  the  old  Man  within  knew  his  Tongue  so  soon  as 
ever  he  heard  it.  So  he  opened,  and  they  all  came  in. 
Then  said  Mnason  their  Host,  How  far  have  ye  come 
to  day  ?  so  they  said,  from  the  House  of  Gains  our 
Friend.  I  promise  you,  said  he,  you  have  gone  a  good 
stitch,  you  may  well  be  a  weary ;  sit  down.  So  they  sat 
down. 

They  are  glad  of  GREATH.  Then  said  their  Guide,  Come,  what 
entertainment.  Cheer  Sirs^  I  dare  say  yon  are  welcome  to 
my  Friend. 

MNASON.  I  also,  said  Mr.  Mnason,  do  bi<J  you  Welcome ; 
and  what  ever  you  want,  do  but  say,  and  we  will  do  what  we 
can  to  get  it  for  you. 

HON.  Our  great  Want,  a  while  since,  zvas  Harbor,  and  good 
Company,  and  now  I  hope  we  have  both. 

MNA.  For  Harbor  you  see  what  it  is,  but  for  good  Com- 
pany, that  will  appear  in  the  Trial. 

GREATH.  Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  will  you  have  the 
Pilgrims  up  into  their  Lodging  ? 

MNA.  I  will,  said  Mr.  Mnason.  So  he  had  them  to  their 
respective  Places ;  and  also  shewed  them  a  very  fair  Dining- 
Room  where  they  might  be  and  sup  together,  until  time  was 
come  to  go  to  Rest. 

Now  when  they  were  set  in  their  places,  and  were 
a  little  cheery  after  their  Journey,  Mr.  Honest  asked 
his  Landlord  if  there  were  any  store  of  good  People  in 
the  Town  ? 

MNA.  We  have  a  few,  for  indeed  they  are  but  a  few,  when 
compared  with  them  on  the  other  Side. 


GOOD   PEOPLE    IN    VANITY   TOWN         325 

HON.  But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of  them  ?  for  the 
Sight  of  good  Men  to  them  that  are  going  on     They  Desire  to 
Pilgrimage,  fc    like    to    the    appearing   of  the    %£%££ 
Moon  and  the  Stars  to  them  that  are  sailing     the  Town. 
upon  the  Seas. 

MXA.  Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his  Foot,  and  his 
Daughter  Grace  came  up;  so  he  said  unto  her,  Soms  sent  for. 
Grace  go  you,  tell  my  Friends,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy-man, 
Mr.  Love-saint,  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  that  I  have 
a  Friend  or  two  at  my  House,  that  have  a  mind  this  Evening 
to  see  them. 

So  Grace  went  to  call  them,  and  they  came,  and  after 
Salutation  made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the  Table. 

Then  said  Mr.  Mnason,  their  Landlord,  My  Neighbours, 
I  have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of  Strangers  come  to  my  House, 
they  are  Pilgrims:  they  come  from  afar,  and  are  going  to 
Mount  Sion.  But  who,  quoth  he,  do  you  think  this  is  ? 
pointing  with  his  Finger  to  Christiana.  It  is  Christiana,  the 
Wife  of  Christian,  that  famous  Pilgrim,  who  with  Faithful 
his  Brother  were  so  shamefully  handled  in  our  Town.  At  that 
they  stood  amazed,  saying,  we  little  thought  to  see  Christiana, 
when  Grace  came  to  call  us,  wherefore  this  is  a  very  comfort- 
able Surprize.  Then  they  asked  her  of  her  welfare,  and  if 
these  young  Men  were  her  Husbands  Sons.  And  when  she 
had  told  them  they  were ;  they  said,  The  King  whom  you 
love,  and  serve,  make  you  as  your  Father,  and  bring  you 
where  he  is  in  Peace. 

HON.  Then  Mr.  Honest  (when  they  were  all  some  Talk 
sat  down)  asked  Mr.  Contrite  and  the  rest,  in  JjJjJjjfaS 
what  posture  their  Town  was  at  present.  Contrite. 

CONTRITE.   You  may  be  sure  we  are  full  of  Hurry  in  Fair 
time.     'Tis  hard  keeping  our  Hearts  and  Spirits     The  Fruit  0^ 
in  any  good  Order,  when  we  are  in  a  cumbred     Watchfulness. 
Condition.     He  that  lives  in   such  a  place  as  this  is,  and 


326  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

that  lias  to  do  with  such  as  we  have,  has  Need  of  an  Item, 
to  caution  him  to  take  heed,  every  Moment  of  the  Day. 

Hox.  But  how  are  your  Neighbors  for  quietness  ? 

COXT.  They  are  much  more  moderate  now  than  formerly. 
Persecution  not  You  know  how  Christian  and  Faithful  were  used 
vanity-Fair  as  a^  our  Town  ;  but  of  late,  I  say,  they  have 
formerly.  been  far  more  moderate.  I  think  the  Blood 

of  Faithful  lieth  with  load  upon  them  till  now  ;  for  since 
they  burned  him,  they  have  been  ashamed  to  burn  any 
more.  In  those  Days  we  were  afraid  to  walk  the  Streets, 
but  now  we  can  shew  our  Heads.  Then  the  Name  of  a  Pro- 
fessor was  odious,  now  specially  in  some  parts  of  our  Town 
(for  you  know  our  Town  is  large)  Religion  is  counted 
Honourable. 

The n  said  Mr.  Contrite  to  them,  Pray  how  fareth  it  with 
you  in  your  Pilgrimage,  how  stands  the  Country  affected 
towards  you  ? 

Hox.  It  happens  to  us,  as  it  happeneth  to  Wayfaring  men  ; 
sometimes  our  way  is  clean,  sometimes  foul ;  sometimes  up 
hill,  sometimes  down  hill ;  we  are  seldom  at  a  Certainty. 
The  Wind  is  not  always  on  our  Backs,  nor  is  every  one 
a  Friend  that  we  meet  with  in  the  Way.  We  have  met 
with  some  notable  Rubs  already ;  and  what  are  yet  behind 
we  know  not,  but  for  the  most  part  we  find  it  true, 
that  has  been  talked  of  of  old  :  A  good  Man  must  suffer 
Trouble. 

COXT.   You  talk  of  Rubs,  what  Rubs  have  you  met  withal? 

IIox.  Nay,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart,  our  Guide,  for  he  can  give 
the  best  Account  of  that. 

GREATH.  We  have  been  beset  three  or  four  times  already  : 
First  Christiana  and  her  Children  were  beset  with  two 
Ruffians,  that  they  feared  would  a  took  away  their  Lives ; 
We  was  beset  with  Giant  Bloody-Man,  Giant  Maul,  and  Giant 
Slay-good.  Indeed  we  did  rather  beset  the  last,  than  were 


REQUISITES   FOR   PILGRIMAGE  327 

beset  of  him.  And  thus  it  was  :  After  we  had  been  some 
time  at  the  House  of  Gains,  mine  Host  and  of  the  ivhole 
Church,  we  were  minded  upon  a  time  to  take  our  Weapons 
with  us,  and  so  go  see  if  we  could  light  upon  any  of  those 
that  were  Enemies  to  Pilgrims ;  (for  we  heard  that  there 
was  a  notable  one  thereabouts.)  Now  Gains  knew  his  Haunt 
better  than  I,  because  he  dwelt  thereabout,  so  we  looked  and 
looked,  till  at  last  we  discerned  the  Mouth  of  his  Cave ;  then 
we  were  glad  and  pluck'd  up  our  Spirits.  So  we  approached 
up  to  his  Den,  and  lo  when  we  came  there,  he  had  dragged 
by  mere  force  into  his  Net,  this  poor  man,  Mr.  Feeble-mind, 
and  was  about  to  bring  him  to  his  End.  But  when  he  saw 

o 

us,  supposing,  as  we  thought,  he  had  had  another  Prey,  he  left 
the  poor  man  in  his  Hole,  and  came  out.  So  we  fell  to  it  full 
sore,  and  he  lustily  laid  about  him  ;  but,  in  conclusion,  he  was 
brought  down  to  the  Ground,  and  his  Head  cut  off,  and  set 
up  by  the  Way  side  for  a  Terror  to  such  as  should  after 
practise  such  Ungodliness.  That  I  tell  you  the  Truth,  here 
is  the  man  himself  to  affirm  it,  who  was  as  a  Lamb  taken  out 
of  the  Mouth  of  the  Lion. 

FEEBLEM.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  I  found  this  true  to 
my  Cost,  and  Comfort.  To  my  Cost,  when  he  threatned  to 
pick  my  Bones  every  Moment,  and  to  my  Comfort,  when  I  saw 
Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  Friends  with  their  Weapons  approach 
so  near  for  my  Deliverance. 

HOLY-MAN.  Then  said  Mr.  Holy -man,  there  are  two  things 
that  they  have  need  to  be  possessed  with  that  ^/r.  Hoiyman's 
go  on  Pilgrimage,  Courage,  and  an  unspotted  sPeech- 
Life.  If  they  have  not  Courage,  they  can  never  hold  on 
their  way ;  and  if  their  Lives  be  loose,  they  will  make  the 
very  name  of  a  Pilgrim  stink. 

LOVES.  Then  said  Mr.  Love-saint ;  I  hope  this  Caution  is 
not  needful  amongst  you.     But  truly  there  are     ^/r.  Love- 
many  that    go    upon    the    Road,   that    rather     saint's  Speech. 


328  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

declare  themselves  Strangers  to  Pilgrimage,  than  Strangers 
and  Pilgrims  in  the  Earth. 

DARENOT.  Then  said  Mr.  Dare-not-lye,  "Tis  true;  they 
Mr.  Dare-not-  neither  have  the  Pilgrims  Weed,  nor  the  Pilgrims 
lye  MS  Speech.  Courage;  they  go  not  uprightly,  but  all  awry 
with  their  Feet ;  one  shoe  goes  inward,  another  outward,  and 
their  Hosen  out  behind ;  there  a  Rag,  and  there  a  Rent,  to  the 
Disparagement  of  their  Lord. 

PENIT.  These  things  said  Mr.  Penitent,  they  ought  to  be 
Mr.  Penitent  troubled  for,  nor  are  the  Pilgrims  like  to 'have 
Jus  Speech.  that  Grace  put  upon  them  and  their  Pilgrim's 

Progress,  as  they  desire,  until  the  way  is  cleared  of  such 
Spots  and  Blemishes. 

Thus  they  sat  talking  and  spending  the  time,  until  Supper 
was  set  upon  the  Table.  Unto  which  they  went  and  refreshed 
their  weary  Bodies,  so  they  went  to  Rest.  Now  they  stayed 
in  this  Fair  a  great  while,  at  the  House  of  this  Mr.  Mnason, 
who  in  process  of  time,  gave  his  Daughter  Grace  unto  Samuel, 
Christiana's  Son,  to  Wife,  and  his  Daughter  Martha  to  Joseph. 

The  time,  as  I  said,  that  they  lay  here,  was  long  (for  it  was 
not  now  as  in  former  times.)  Wherefore  the  Pilgrims  grew 

O  O 

acquainted  with  many  of  the  good  People  of  the  Town,  and 
did  them  what  Service  they  could.  Mercy,  as  she  was  wont, 
laboured  much  for  the  Poor,  wherefore  their  Bellvs  and  Backs 

J 

blessed  her,  and  she  was  there  an  Ornament  to  her  Profession. 
And  to  say  the  truth  for  Grace,  Phoebe,  and  Martha,  they 
were  all  of  a  very  good  Nature,  and  did  much  good  in  their 
place.  They  were  all  also  of  them  very  Fruitful,  so  that 
Christians  Name,  as  was  said  before,  was  like  to  live  in  the 
AVorld. 

While  thi'y  lay  here,  there  came  a  Monster  out  of  the 
^i  Monster.  Woods,  and  slew  many  of  the  People  of  the 

Town.  It  would  also  carry  away  their  Children,  and  teach 
them  to  suck  its  AVhelps.  Now  no  Man  in  the  Town  durst 


c 

K 
CS 

53 

o 

05 


K 

t: 

H 

C/3 


K 

a 
H 


THE    MONSTERS   HAVOCK  331 

so  much  as  face  this  Monster;  but  all  Men  fled  when  they 
heard  of  the  noise  of  his  coming. 

The  Monster  was  like  unto  no  one  Beast  upon  the  Earth. 
Its  Body  was  like  a  Dragon,  and  it  had  seven     nis  shape. 
Heads  and  ten  Horns.     It  made  great  havock     His  Nature. 
of  Children,  and  yet  it  was  governed  by  a  Woman.     This 
Monster  propounded  Conditions  to  men ;    and  such  men  as 
loved  their  Lives  more  than  their  Souls,  accepted  of  those 
Conditions.     So  they  came  under. 

Now  this  Mr.  Great-heart,  together  with  these  that  came  to 
visit  the  Pilgrims  at  Mr.  Mnasoii's  House,  entered  into 
a  Covenant  to  go  and  engage  this  Beast,  if  perhaps  they 
might  deliver  the  People  of  this  Town  from  the  Paw  and 
Mouths  of  this  so  devouring  a  Serpent. 

Then  did  Mr.  Great-heart,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy-man, 
Mr.  Dare-not-lye,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  with  their     How  he  is 
Weapons    go    forth    to    meet   him.     Now   the     ^d^ged- 
Monster  at  first  was  very  Rampant,  and  looked  upon  these 
Enemies  with  great  Disdain  ;  but  they  so  belabored  him,  being 
sturdy  men  at  Arms,  that  they  made  him  make  a  Retreat ; 
so  they  came  home  to  Mr.  Mnasons  House  again. 

The  Monster,  you  must  know  had  his  certain  Seasons  to 
come  out  in,  and  to  make  his  Attempts  upon  the  Children  of 
the  People  of  the  Town  ;  also  these  Seasons  did  these  valiant 
Worthies  watch  him  in,  and  did  still  continually  assault  him  ; 
in  so  much,  that  in  process  of  time,  he  became  not  only 
wounded,  but  lame  ;  also  he  has  not  made  that  havock  of 
the  Towns-men's  Children,  as  formerly  he  has  done.  And  it 
is  verily  believed  by  some,  that  this  Beast  will  die  of  his 
Wounds. 

This  therefore  made  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  Fellows  of 
great  Fame  in  this  Town,  so  that  many  of  the  People  that 
wanted  their  taste  of  things,  yet  had  a  reverend  Esteem  and 
Respect  for  them.  Upon  this  account  therefore  it  was  that 


332  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

these  Pilgrims  got  not  much  hurt  there.  True,  there  M-ere 
some  of  the  baser  sort  that  could  see  no  more  than  a  Mole, 
nor  understand  more  than  a  Beast,  these  had  no  reverence 
for  these  men,  nor  took  they  notice  of  their  Valour  or  Adven- 
tures. 

Well,  the  time  grew  on  that  the  Pilgrims  must  go  on  their 
way,  wherefore  they  prepared  for  their  Journey.  They  sent 
for  their  Friends,  they  conferred  with  them,  they  had  some 
time  set  apart  therein  to  commit  each  other  to  the  protection 
of  their  Prince.  There  was  again  that  brought  them  of  such 
things  as  they  had,  that  was  fit  for  the  weak  and  the  strong, 
for  the  Women  and  the  men  ;  and  so  laded  them  with  such 
things  as  was  necessary. 

Then  they  set  forwards  on  their  way,  and  their  Friends 
accompanying  them  so  far  as  was  convenient,  they  again 
committed  each  other  to  the  Protection  of  their  King,  and 
parted. 

They  therefore  that  were  of  the  Pilgrims'  Company  went 
on,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before  them.  Now  the  Women 
and  Children  being  weakly,  they  were  forced  to  go  as  they 
could  bear,  by  this  means  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  and  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind  had  more  to  sympathize  with  their  Condition. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  Townsmen,  and  when  their 
Friends  had  bid  them  farewell,  they  quickly  came  to  the  place 
where  Faithful  was  put  to  Death.  There  therefore  they  made 
a  stand,  and  thanked  him  that  had  enabled  him  to  bear  his 
Cross  so  well,  and  the  rather,  because  they  now  found  that 
they  had  a  benefit  by  such  a  manly  Suffering  as  his  was. 

They  went  on  therefore  after  this  a  good  way  further,  talk  ing 
of  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  how  Hopeful  joined  himself  to 
Christian  after  that  Faithful  was  dead. 

Now  they  were  come  up  with  the  HUL  Lucre,  where  the 
\part,pagei$u.  Silver-mine  was,  which  took  Dcmas  off' from  his 
Pilgrimage,  and  into  which,  as  some  think,  By-ends  fell  and 


THE    GOOD   SHEPHERD  333 

perished ;  wherefore  they  considered  that.  But  when  they 
were  come  to  the  old  Monument  that  stood  over  against  the 
Hill  Lucre,  to  wit,  to  the  Pillar  of  Salt  that  stood  also  within 
view  of  Sodom,  and  its  stinking  Lake,  they  marvelled,  as  did 
Christian  before,  that  men  of  that  Knowledge  and  ripeness 
of  Wit  as  they  was^  should  be  so  blinded  as  to  turn  aside 
here.  Only  they  considered  again,  that  Nature  is  not  affected 
with  the  Harms  that  others  have  met  with,  specially  if  that 
thing  upon  which  they  look  has  an  attracting  Virtue  upon 
the  foolish  Eye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  at  the  River 
that  was  on  this  Side  of  the  Delectable  Mount-  i  part,  page  137. 
ains.  To  the  River  where  the  fine  Trees  grow  on  both 
sides,  and  whose  Leaves,  if  taken  inwardly,  are  good  against 
Surfeits  ;  where  the  Meadows  are  green  all  the  year  long,  and 
where  they  might  lie  down  safely. 

By  this  River-side  in  the  Meadow,  there  were  Cotes  and 
Folds  for  Sheep,  an  House  built  for  the  nourishing,  and 
bringing  up  of  those  Lambs,  the  Babes  of  those  Women  that 
go  on  Pilgrimage.  Also  there  was  here  one  that  was  intrusted 
with  them,  who  could  have  compassion,  and  that  could  gather 
these  Lambs  with  his  Arm,  and  carry  them  in  his  Bosom,  and 
that  could  gently  lead  those  that  were  with  young.  Now  to 
the  Care  of  this  Man,  Christiana  admonished  her  four  Daugh- 
ters to  commit  their  little  ones ;  that  by  these  Waters  they 
might  be  housed,  harbored,  succoured,  and  nourished,  and 
that  none  of  them  might  be  lacking  in  time  to  come.  This 
man,  if  any  of  them  go  astray  or  be  lost,  he  will  bring  them 
again,  he  will  also  bind  up  that  which  was  broken,  and  will 
strengthen  them  that  are  sick.  Here  they  will  never  want 
Meat  and  Drink  and  Cloathing,  here  they  will  be  kept  from 
Thieves  and  Robbers,  for  this  man  will  die  before  one  of  those 
committed  to  his  Trust  shall  be  lost.  Besides,  here  they  shall 
be  sure  to  have  good  Nurture  and  Admonition,  and  shall  be 


334  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

taught  to  walk  in  right  Paths,  and  that  you  know  is  a  Favour 
of  no  small  account.  Also  here,  as  you  see,  are  delicate 
Waters,  pleasant  Meadows,  dainty  Flowers,  Variety  of  Trees, 
and  such  as  bear  wholsome  Fruit.  Fruit,  not  like  that 
that  Matthew  eat  of,  that  fell  over  the  Wall  out  of 
Beelzebub^s  Garden,  but  Fruit  that  procureth  Health  where 

there  is  none,  and  that  continueth  and  increaseth  it  where 
•  I    • 
it  is. 

So  they  were  content  to  commit  their  little  Ones  to 
him  ;  and  that  which  was  also  an  encouragement  to  them 
so  to  do  was  for  that  all  this  was  to  be  at  the  Charge  of 

o 

the  King,  and  so  was  as  an  Hospital  to  young  Children, 
and  Orphans. 

Now  they  went  on  :  and  when  they  were  come  to  By-path 
rr.  Meadow,  to  the  Stile  over  which  Christian  went 

They  being  come 

to  By-path  with  his  Fellow  Hopeful,  when  they  were  taken 

mind  to  have        by  Giant  Despair,  and  put  into  Doubting  Castle, 

^ian^De^air  tne^  sat  down  ail(l  consulted  what  was  best  to 
i  part,  page  be  done,  to  wit,  now  they  were  so  strong,  and 
had  got  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Great-heart  for  their 
Conductor ;  whether  they  had  not  best  to  make  an  Attempt 
upon  the  Giant,  demolish  his  Castle,  and  if  there  were  any 
Pilgrims  in  it,  to  set  them  at  liberty  before  they  went  any 
further.  So  one  said  one  thing,  and  another  said  the  con- 
trary. One  questioned  if  it  "\vas  lawful  to  go  upon  uncon- 
secrated  Ground,  another  said  they  might,  provided  their 
end  was  good ;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  said,  Though  that  as- 
sertion offered  last,  cannot  be  universally  true,  yet  I  have 
a  Commandment  to  resist  Sin,  to  overcome  Evil,  to  fi^ht  the 

O 

good  Fight  of  Faith.  And  I  pray,  with  whom  should  I  fight 
this  good  Fight,  if  not  with  Giant  Despair?  I  will  therefore 
attempt  the  taking  away  of  his  Life,  and  the  demolishing 
of  Doubting  Castle.  Then  said  he,  who  will  go  with  me  ? 
Then  said  old  Honest,  I  will,  and  so  will  we  too,  said  Christians 


GIANT   DESPAIR   SLAIN  335 

four  Sons,  Matthew p,  Samuel,  James.,  and  Joseph,  for  they  were 
young  men  and  strong. 

So  they  left  the  Women  in  the  Road,  and  with  them 
Mr.  Feeble-mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  with  his  Crutches,  to 
be  their  Guard,  until  they  came  back,  for  in  that  place  tho' 
Giant-Despair  dwelt  so  near,  they  keeping  in  the  Road,  a  little 
Child  might  lead  them. 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the  four  young  men, 
went  to  go  up  to  Doubti?ig-C&st\e  to  look  for  Giant- Despair. 
When  they  came  at  the  Castle  Gate  they  knocked  for  En- 
trance with  an  unusual  Noise.  At  that  the  old  Giant  comes 
to  the  Gate,  and  Diffidence  his  Wife  follows.  Then  said  he, 
Who,  and  what  is  he,  that  is  so  hardy,  as  after  this  manner 
to  molest  the  Giant- Despair?  Mr.  Great-heart  replied,  It  is 
I,  Great-heart,  one  of  the  King  of  the  Coelestial  Country's 
Conductors  of  Pilgrims  to  their  Place.  And  I  demand  of 
thee  that  thou  open  thy  Gates  for  my  Entrance,  prepare  thy- 
self also  to  fight,  for  I  am  come  to  take  away  thy  Head,  and 
to  demolish  Doubting  Castle. 

Now  Giant- Despair,  because  he  was  a  Giant,  thought  no 
man  could  overcome  him,  and  again,  thought  he,     Deg  air  Ms 
since  heretofore  I  have    made  a  Conquest  of    overcome 
Angels,  shall  Great-heart  make  me  afraid  ?     So 
he  harnessed  himself  and  went  out.     He  had  a  Cap  of  Steel 
upon  his  Head,  a  Breast-plate  of  Fire  girded  to  him,  and  he 
came  out  in   Iron-Shoes,  with  a  great  Club  in   his   Hand. 
Then  these  six  men  made  up  to  him,  and  beset  him  behind 
and  before ;   also  when  Diffidence,  the  Giantess,  came  up  to 
help  him,  old  Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down  at  one  Blow.     Then 
they  fought  for  their  Lives,  and  Giant  Despair  was  brought 
down  to  the  Ground,  but  was  very  loth  to  die.     Despair  is  loth 
He    strugled   hard,  and    had,  as   they   say,  as     todie- 
many  Lives  as  a  Cat,  but  Great-heart  was  his  death,  for  he 
left  him  not  till  he  had  severed  his  Head  from  his  shoulders. 


336  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Then  they  fell  to  demolishing  Doubting-Castle,  and  that 
you    know    might    with    ease    be    done,    since 

Doubting-  J 

Castle  Giant-Despair  was  dead.     They  was  seven  Days 

demolished.  .-.  .  p   •  i  i    •       -^       r>  TVI      • 

in  destroying  ot  that ;  and  in  it  or  Pilgrims 
they  found  one  Mr.  Dependency,  almost  starved  to  Death, 
and  one  Much-afraid  his  Daughter;  these  two  they  saved 
alive.  But  it  would  a  made  you  a  wondered  to  have  seen 
the  dead  Bodies  that  lay  here  and  there  in  the  Castle  Yard, 
and  how  full  of  dead  men^s  Bones  the  Dungeon  was. 

When  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  Companions  had  performed 
this  Exploit,  they  took  Mr.  Dispondency,  and  his  Daughter 
Mitch-afraid  into  their  Protection,  for  they  were  honest 
People,  tho'  they  were  Prisoners  in  Doubting- Castle  to  that 
Tyrant  Giant  Despair.  They  therefore  I  say,  took  with  them 
the  Head  of  the  Giant  (for  his  Body  they  had  buried  under 
a  heap  of  Stones)  and  down  to  the  Road  and  to  their  Com- 
panions they  came,  and  shewed  them  what  they  had  done. 
Now  when  Feeble-mind  and  Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it  was  the 
Head  of  Giant-Despair  indeed,  they  were  very  jocund  and 
merry.  Now  Christiana,  if  need  was,  could  play  upon  the 
They  have  Viol,  and  her  Daughter  Mercy  upon  the  Lute  ; 

Tfancingfto-  so'  s*llce  ^ney  were  so  merry  disposed,  she  plaid 
Joy-  them  a  Lesson,  and  Ready-to-halt  would  Dance. 

So  he  took  Dispondency's  Daughter,  named  Much-afraid,  by 
the  Hand,  and  to  dancing  they  went  in  the  Road.  True 
he  could  not  dance  without  one  Crutch  in  his  Hand,  but 
I  promise  you,  he  footed  it  well ;  also  the  Girl  was  to  be 
commended,  for  she  answered  the  Musick  handsomely. 

As  for  Mr.  Dispondency,  the  Musick  was  not  much  to  him ; 
he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  dancing,  for  that  he  was 
almost  starved.  So  Christiana  gave  him  some  of  her  Bottle 
of  Spirits  for  present  Relief,  and  then  prepared  him  some- 
thing to  eat ;  and  in  little  time  the  old  Gentleman  came 
to  himself,  and  began  to  be  finely  revived. 

•^  tj 


GIANT  DESPAIR  SLAIN  AND  DOUBTING  CASTLE  DEMOLISHED. 


THE   DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS  339 

Now  I  saw  in  my  Dream,  when  all  these  things  were 
finished,  Mr.  Great-heart  took  the  Head  of  Giant- Despair,  and 
set  it  upon  a  Pole  by  the  Highway-side  T,  right  over  against 
the  Pillar  that  Christian  erected  for  a  Caution  to  Pilgrims 
that  came  after,  to  take  heed  of  entering  into  his  Grounds. 

Then  he  writ  under  it  upon  a  Marble-stone,  these  Verses 
following. 

This  is  the  Head  of  him,  Whose  Name  only     A  Monument  of 

In  former  times,  did  Pilgrims  terrify. 

His  Castle's  down,  and  Diffidence  his    Wife, 

Brave  Master  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  Life. 

Dispondency,  his  Daughter  Much-afraid, 

Great-heart  for  them  also  the  Man  has  plaid. 

Who  hereof  doubts,  if  he'll  but  cast  his  Eye 

Up  hither,  may  his  Scruples  satisfy. 

This  Head  also,  when  doubting  Cripples  dance, 

Doth  shew  from  Fears  they  have  Deliverance. 

When  these  men  had  thus  bravely  shewed  themselves 
against  Doubting  Castle,  and  had  slain  Giant  Despair,  they 
went  forward,  and  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable 
Mountains,  where  Christian  and  Hopeful  refreshed  themselves 
with  the  Varieties  of  the  Place.  They  also  acquainted  them- 
selves with  the  Shepherds  there,  who  welcomed  them  as  they 
had  done  Christian  before,  unto  the  Delectable  Mountains. 

Now  the  Shepherds  seeing  so  great  a  train  follow  Mr.  Great- 
heart  (for  with  him  they  were  well  acquainted ;)  they  said 
unto  him,  Good  Sir,  you  have  got  a  goodly  Company  here ; 
pray  where  did  you  find  all  these  ? 

1  Tho'  Doubting-Castle  be  demolished 
And  the  Giant  despair  hath  lost  his  head 
Sin  can  rebuild  the  Castle,  make't  remain, 
And  make  Despair  the  Giant  live  again. 

N 


340  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Then  Mr.  Great-heart  replyed, 

First  here's  Christiana  and  her  train, 

The  Guides 

Speech  to  the        Her  Soiu,  and  her  Sons'   Wives,  who  like  the 

Shepherds,  TTr    . 

Wain, 

Keep  by  the  Pole,  and  do  by  Compass  steer, 
From    Sin    to    Grace,  else    they    had   not    been 

here. 

Next  here^s  old  Honest  come  on  Pilgrimage, 
Ready-to-halt  too,  who,  I  dare  engage, 
True  hearted  is,  and  so  is  Feeble-mind, 
Who  willing  was  not  to  be  left  behind. 
Dispondency,  good-man,  is  coming-  after, 
And  so  also  is  Much-afraid,  his  Daughter. 
May  we  have  Entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  further  go?  lefs  know  whereon  to  trust? 

Then  said  the  Shepherds,  This  is  a  comfortable  Company. 
Their  Enter-  You  are  welcome  to  us,  for  we  have  for  the 
Feeble,  as  for  the  Strong;  our  Prince  has  an 
Eye  to  what  is  done  to  the  least  of  these.  Therefore 
Infirmity  must  not  be  a  block  to  our  Entertainment. 
So  they  had  them  to  the  Palace  Door,  and  then  said 
unto  them,  Come  in  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  come  in  Mr.  Ready- 
to-halt,  come  in  Mr.  Dispondency,  and  Mrs.  Much-afraid 
his  Daughter.  These  Mr.  Great-heart,  said  the  Shepherds 
to  the  Guide,  we  call  in  by  name,  for  that  they  are  most 

•/  v 

subject  to  draw  back ;  but  as  for  you,  and  the  rest  that 
are  strong,  we  leave  you  to  your  wonted  Liberty.  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  This  day  I  see  that  Grace  doth  shine  in 
your  Faces,  and  that  you  are  my  Lord's  Shepherds  indeed ; 
for  that  you  have  not  pushed  these  Diseased 

A  Description  t  <  J 

of  false  neither  with  Side  nor  Shoulder,  but  have  rather 

strewed  their  way  into  the  Palace  with  Flowers, 
as  you  should. 


THE  SHEPHERDS  ENTERTAINMENT   341 

So  the  Feeble  and  Weak  went  in,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  and 
the  rest  did  follow.  When  they  were  also  set  down,  the 
Shepherds  said  to  those  of  the  weakest  sort,  What  is  it  that 
you  would  have  ?  For,  said  they,  all  things  must  be  managed 
here  to  the  supporting  of  the  Weak,  as  well  as  the  warning 
of  the  Unruly. 

So  they  made  them  a  Feast  of  things  easy  of  Digestion, 
and  that  were  pleasant  to  the  Palate,  and  nourishing ;  the 
which  when  they  had  received,  they  went  to  their  Rest,  each 
one  respectively  unto  his  proper  place.  When  Morning  was 
come,  because  the  mountains  were  high,  and  the  day^clear; 
and  because  it  was  the  Custom  of  the  Shepherds  to  sjiew  to 
the  Pilgrims  before  their  Departure  some  Rarities ;  therefore  \ 
after  they  were  ready,  and  had  refreshed  themselves,  the 
Shepherds  took  them  out  into  the  Fields,  and  shewed  them 
first  what  they  had  shewed  to  Christian  before.  * 

Then  they  had  them  to  some  new  places.  The  first  \yas  to 
Mount-Marvel,  where  they  looked,  and  beheld  Mount  Marvel. 
a  man  at  a  Distance,  that  tumbled  the  Hills  about  with  Words. 
Then  they  asked  the  Shepherds  what  that  should  mean  ?  So 
they  told  him,  that  that  man  was  the  Son  of  one  Great- 
grace,  of  whom  you  read  in  the  first  part  of  the  i  part, page  154. 
Records  of  the  Pilgrim 's  Progress.  And  he  is  set  there  to 
teach  Pilgrims  how  to  believe  down,  or  to  tumble  out  of  their 
ways  what  Difficulties  they  shall  meet  with,  by  Faith.  Then 
said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  know  him,  he  is  a  man  above  many. 

•/ 

Then  they  had  them  to  another  place,  called  Mount  Inno- 
cent. And  there  they  saw  a  man  cloathed  all  Mount  innocent. 
in  White ;  and  two  men,  Prejudice,  and  Ill-will,  continually 
casting  Dirt  upon  him.  Now  behold  the  Dirt,  whatsoever 
they  cast  at  him,  would  in  little  time  fall  off  again,  and 
his  Garment  would  look  as  clear  as  if  no  Dirt  had  been 
cast  thereat. 

Then  said  the  Pilgrims  what  means  this  ?    The  Shepherds 


342  THE   PILGRIMS  PROGRESS 

answered,  This  man  is  named  Godly-man,  and  this  Garment 
is  to  shew  the  Innocency  of  his  Life.  Now  those  that  throw 
Dirt  at  him,  are  such  as  hate  his  Welldoing ;  but  as  you  see 
the  Dirt  will  not  stick  upon  his  Cloaths,  so  it  shall  be  with 
him  that  liveth  truly  innocently  in  the  World.  Whoever 
they  be  that  would  make  such  men  dirty,  they  labor  all  in 
vain  ;  for  God,  by  that  a  little  time  is  spent,  will  cause  that 
their  Innocence  shall  break  forth  as  the  Light,  and  their 
Righteousness  as  the  Noon  day. 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  Mount-Charity, 
Mount  Charity,  where  they  shewed  them  a  man  that  had  a 
bundle  of  Cloth  lying  before  him,  out  of  which  he  cut  Coats 
and  Garments  for  the  Poor  that  stood  about  him  ;  yet  his 
Bundle  or  Roll  of  Cloth  was  never  the  less. 

Then  said  they,  what  should  this  be  ?  This  is,  said  the 
Shepherds,  to  shew  you,  that  he  that  has  a  Heart  to  give 
of  his  Labor  to  the  Poor,  shall  never  want  where-withal. 
He  that  watereth  shall  be  watered  himself.  And  the  Cake 
that  the  Widow  gave  to  the  Prophet,  did  not  cause  that  she 
had  ever  the  less  in  her  Barrel. 

They  had  them  also  to  a  place  where  they  saw  one  Fool, 
The  work  of  anc^  one  Want-wit,  washing  of  an  Ethiopian 
one  Fool,  and  with  intention  to  make  him  white,  but  the 

one  Want-ivit.  ,  -i-ii-  1111  i 

more  they  washed  him,  the  blacker  he  was. 
They  then  asked  the  Shepherds  what  that  should  mean. 
So  they  told  them,  saying,  Thus  shall  it  be  with  the  vile 
Person ;  all  means  used  to  get  such  an  one  a  good  Name, 
shall  in  conclusion  tend  but  to  make  him  more  abominable. 
Thus  it  was  with  the  Pharisees,  and  so  shall  it  be  with  all 
Hypocrites. 

Then  said  Mercy  the  Wife  of  Matthew,  to  Christiana  her 
i  part, page  149.  Mother,  Mother,  I  would,  if  it  might  be,  see 

mSt^the       the  hole  in  the  Hil1  ?  or  that>  commonly  called, 
hole  in  the  Hill,     the  By-way  to  Hell.    So  her  Mother  brake  her 


THE   LOOKING-GLASS   FOR   MERCY        343 

mind  to  the  Shepherds.  Then  they  went  to  the  Door. 
It  was  in  the  side  of  an  Hill,  and  they  opened  it,  and  bid 
Mercy  hearken  awhile.  So  she  hearkened,  and  heard  one 
saying,  Cursed  be  my  Father  for  holding  of  my  Feet  back 
from  the  way  of  Peace  and  Life ;  and  another  said,  O  that 
I  had  been  torn  in  pieces  before  I  had,  to  save  my  Life, 
lost  my  Soul;  and  another  said,  If  I  were  to  live  again,  how 
would  I  deny  myself  rather  than  come  to  this  place.  Then 
there  Avas  as  if  the  very  Earth  had  groaned,  and  quaked 
under  the  Feet  of  this  young  Woman  for  fear ;  so  she  looked 
white,  and  came  trembling  away,  saying,  Blessed  be  he  and 
she  that  is  delivered  from  this  Place. 

Now  when  the  Shepherds  had  shewed  them  all  these  things, 
then  they  had  them  back  to  the  Palace,  and  entertained 
them  with  what  the  House  would  afford.  But  Mercy  longeth 
Mercy,  being  a  young  and  breeding  Woman,  and  for  what. 
longed  for  something  that  she  saw  there,  but  was  ashamed 
to  ask.  Her  Mother-in-law  then  asked  her  what  she  ailed, 
for  she  looked  as  one  not  well.  Then  said  Mercy,  There 
is  a  Looking-glass  hangs  up  in  the  Dining-room,  off'  of 
which  I  cannot  take  my  mind ;  if  therefore  I  have  it  not, 
I  think  I  shall  miscarry.  Then  said  her  Mother,  I  will 
mention  thy  Wants  to  the  Shepherds,  and  they  will  not 
deny  it  thee.  But  she  said,  I  am  ashamed  that  these  men 
should  know  that  I  longed.  Nay  my  Daughter,  said  she, 
it  is  no  Shame,  but  a  Virtue,  to  long  for  such  a  thing  as 
that.  So  Mercy  said,  Then  Mother,  if  you  please,  ask  the 
Shepherds  if  they  are  willing  to  sell  it. 

Now  the  Glass  was  one  of  a  thousand.  It  would  present 
a  man,  one  way,  with  his  own  Feature  exactly,  It  was  the  Word 
and  turn  it  but  another  way,  and  it  would  of  God. 
shew  one  the  very  Face  and  Similitude  of  the  Prince  of 
Pilgrims  himself.  Yea  I  have  talked  with  them  that  can 
tell,  and  they  have  said  that  they  have  seen  the  very 


344  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Crown  of  Thorns  upon  his  Head,  by  looking  in  that  Glass, 
they  have  therein  also  seen  the  holes  in  his  Hands,  in  his 
Feet,  and  his  Side.  Yea  such  an  excellency  is  there  in 
that  Glass,  that  it  will  shew  him  to  one  where  they  have 
a  mind  to  see  him  ;  whether  living  or  dead,  whether  in 
Earth  or  Heaven,  whether  in  a  State  of  Humiliation  or  in 
his  Exaltation,  whether  coming  to  Suffer,  or  coming  to  Reign. 
Christia7ia  therefore  went  to  the  Shepherds  apart.  (Now 
i  part,  page  148.  the  Names  of  the  Shepherds  are  Knowledge, 
Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere)  and  said  unto  them, 
There  is  one  of  my  Daughters  a  breeding  Woman,  that  I 
think  doth  lone;  for  something  that  she  hath  seen  in  this 

o  o 

House,   and  she  thinks  she  shall  miscarry  if  she  should  by 
you  be  denyed. 

EXPERIENCE.     Call  her,  call  her,  she  shall  assuredly  have 
what  we  can  help  her  to.     So  they  called  her, 

khe  doth  not  r  . 

Jose  her  and  said  to  her,  Mercy,  what  is  that  thing  thou 

wouldest  have  ?  Then  she  blushed  and  said, 
The  great  Glass  that  hangs  up  in  the  Dining-room.  So 
Sincere  ran  and  fetched  it,  and  with  a  joyful  Consent  it 
was  given  her.  Then  she  bowed  her  Head  and  gave  Thanks, 
and  said.  By  this  I  know  that  I  have  obtained  Favor  in  your 

•/  •* 

Eyes. 

They  also  gave  to  the  other  young  Women  such  things  as 
they  desired,  and  to  their  Husbands  great  Commendations 
for  that  they  joined  with  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  slaying  of 
Giant-Despair,  and  the  demolishing  of  Doubting- Castle. 

About  Christianas  Neck,  the  Shepherds  put  a  Bracelet, 

and  so  they  did  about  the  Necks  of  her  four 
How  the  Shep-  .  .  . 

herds  adorn  the     Daughters,  also   they   put    Ear-rings    in    then- 
Ears,  and  Jewels  on  their  Foreheads. 

When  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they  let  them  go 
in  Peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those  certain  Cautions  which 
i  part,page  151.  before  was  given  to  Christian  and  his  Companion. 


TURN-AWAY   OF   APOSTACY  345 

The  Reason  was  for  that  these  had  Great-heart  to  be  their 
Guide,  who  was  one  that  was  well  acquainted  with  things, 
and  so  could  give  them  their  Cautions  more  seasonably,  to 
wit,  even  then  when  the  Danger  was  nigh  the  approach- 
ing. 

What  Cautions  Christian  and  his  Companions  had  received 
of  the  Shepherds,  they  had  also  lost  by  that  the  ipart,page  161. 
time  was  come  that  they  had  need  to  put  them  in  practise. 
Wherefore  here  was  the  Advantage  that  this  Company  had 
over  the  other. 

From  hence  they  went  on  Singing,  and  they  said, 

Behold,  how  fitly  are  the  Stages  set ! 
For  their  Relief  that  Pilgrims  are  become ; 
And  how  they  us  receive  without  one  let, 
That  make  the  other  Life  our  Mark  and  Home. 
What  Novelties  they  have,  to  us  they  give, 
That  we,  tho"1  Pilgrims  joyful  Lives  may  Live ; 
They  do  upon  us  too  such  things  bestow, 
That  shew  we  Pilgrims  are,  wherever  we  go. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  Shepherds,  they  quickly 
came  to  the  place  where  Christian  met  with  one     lpart 
Turn-away,  that  dwelt  in  the  Town  of  Apostacy.     153- 
Wherefore  of  him  Mr.  Great-heart  their  Guide  did  now  put 
them  in  mind;  saying,  This  is  the  place  where  Christian  met 
with  one  Turn-away,  who  carried  with  him  the  Character  of 
his  Rebellion  at  his  Back.     And  this  I  have  to  say  concern- 
ing; this  man,  He  would  hearken  to  no  Counsel, 

'  .  11 oio  one  Turn- 

but    once    •falling,    perSWaslOll     could    not    Stop       aicay  managed 

him.     When  he  came  to  the  place  where  the 
Cross  and  the  Sepulchre  was,  he   did  meet    with    one    that 
did  bid  him  look  there;    but  he   gnashed   with    his  Teeth, 
and    stamped,  and   said,    he    was    resolved    to   go    back   to 


346  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

his  own  Town.  Before  he  came  to  the  Gate,  he  met  with 
Evangelist,  who  offered  to  lay  Hands  on  him,  to  turn  him 
into  the  way  again.  But  this  Turn-away  resisted  him,  and 
having  done  much  despite  unto  him,  he  got  away  over  the 
Wall,  and  so  escaped  his  Hand. 

Then  they  went  on,  and  just  at  the  place  where  Little-faith 

formerly  was   Robbed,  there  stood  a   man  with  his  Sword 

drawn,  and  his  Face  all  bloody.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart 

What  art  thou  ?    The  man  made  Answer,  saying,  I  am  one 

whose  Name  is  Valiant- for-Truth.     I  am  a  Pil- 

One  Valiant- 

for-Tmth  beset      grim,   and   am    going   to    the    Ccelestial    City. 

tvith  Thieves.  XT  T  1 1  ,  i 

JNow  as  1  was  in  my  way,  there  was  three  men 
did  beset  me,  and  propounded  unto  me  these  three  things. 
1.  Whether  I  would  become  one  of  them  ?  2.  Or  go  back 

o 

from  whence  I  came  ?  3.  Or  die  upon  the  place  ?  To  the 
first  I  answered,  I  had  been  a  true  Man  a  long  Season, 
and  therefore,  it  could  not  be  expected  that  I  now  should 
cast  in  my  Lot  with  Thieves.  Then  they  demanded  what 
I  would  say  to  the  second.  So  I  told  them  that  the  Place 
from  whence  I  came,  had  I  not  found  Incommodity  there, 
I  had  not  forsaken  it  at  all,  but  finding  it  altogether 
unsuitable  to  me,  and  very  unprofitable  for  me,  I  forsook 
it  for  this  Way.  Then  they  asked  me  what  I  said  to  the 
third.  And  I  told  them,  my  Life  cost  more  dear  far,  than 
that  I  should  lightly  give  it  away.  Besides,  you  have 
nothing  to  do  thus  to  put  things  to  my  Choice ;  wherefore 
at  your  Peril  be  it,  if  you  meddle.  Then  these  three,  to  wit, 
Wildhead)  Inconsiderate,  and  Pragmatick,  drew  upon  me,  and 
I  also  drew  upon  them. 

So  we  fell  to  it,  one  against  three,  for  the  space  of  above 
behaved     three  Hours.    They  have  left  upon  me,  as  you 
see5   some  of  the    Marks  of  their  Valour,  and 
have    also    carried    away    with    them    some    of 
mine,    They  are  but  just  now  gone.     I  suppose  they  might, 


VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH  347 

as  the  saying  is,  hear  your  Horse  dash,  and  so  they  betook 
them  to  flight. 

GREATH.     But    here   was  great    Odds,    three 

Great-heart 
agaimt   One.  wonders  at  his 

VALIANT.  Tis  true,  but  little  and  more,  are  Valour' 
nothing  to  him  that  has  the  Truth  on  his  side.  Though 
an  Host  should  encamp  against  me,  said  one,  my  Heart  shall 
not  fear.  Tho1  War  should  rise  against  me,  in  this  will  I 
be  Confident,  &c.  Besides,  said  he,  I  have  read  in  some 
Records,  that  one  man  has  fought  an  army  ;  and  how  many 
did  Sampson  slay  with  the  Jaw-Bone  of  an  Ass  ? 

G  RKATH.  Then  said  the  Guide,  Why  did  you  not  cry  out, 
that  some  might  a  come  In  for  your  Succour? 

VALIANT.  So  I  did,  to  my  King,  who  I  knew  could  hear, 
and  afford  invisible  Help,  and  that  was  sufficient  for  me. 

GREATH.  Then  said  Great-heart  to  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth, 
Thou  hast  worthily  behaved  thyself;  let  me  see  thy  Sword. 
So  he  shewed  it  him. 

When  he  had  taken  it  in  his  Hand,  and  looked -thereon 
a  while,  he  said,  Ha  !  It  Is  a  right  Jerusalem  Blade. 

VALIANT.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of  these  Blades, 
with  a  Hand  to  wield  it,  and  skill  to  use  it,  and  he  may 
venture  upon  an  Angel  with  it.  He  need  not  fear  its 
holding,  if  he  can  but  tell  how  to  lay  on.  Its  Edges  will 
never  blunt.  It  will  cut  Flesh,  and  Bones,  and  Soul,  and 
Spirit,  and  all. 

GREATH.  But  you  fought  a  great  while,  I  wonder  you  was 
not  weary  ? 

VALIANT.  I  fought  till  my  Sword  did  cleave  to  my  Hand ; 
and    when    they    were   joined    together,  as    if     The  Wo/,d 
a  Sword  grew  out  of  my  Arm,  and  when  the     The  Faith. 
Blood  run   thorow  my  Fingers,  then  I  fought 
with  most  Courage. 

GREATH.    Thou  hast  done  well.      Thou  hast  resisted  unto 

N3 


•34.8  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Bloody  striving  against  Sin.  Thou  shalt  abide  by  us,  come 
iiiy  and  go  out  with  us ;  for  we  are  thy  Companions. 

Then  they  took  him  and  washed  his  Wounds,  and  gave  him 
of  what  they  had,  to  refresh  him,  and  so  they  went  on 
together.  Now  as  they  went  on,  because  Mr.  Great-heart 

O  *J 

was  delighted  in  him  (for  he  loved  one  greatly  that  he  found 
to  be  a  man  of  his  Hands)  and  because  there  was  with  his 
Company  them  that  was  feeble  and  weak,  therefore  he 
questioned  with  him  about  many  things ;  as  first,  what 
Country-man  he  was  ? 

VALIANT.  I  am  of  Dark-land,  for  there  I  was  born,  and 
there  my  Father  and  Mother  are  still. 

GREATH.  Dark-land,  said  the  Guide,  Doth  not  that  lye  upon 
the  same  Coast  with  the  City  of  Destruction  ? 

VALIANT.  Yes  it  doth.  Now  that  which  caused  me  to 
HOW  Mr.  come  on  Pilgrimage,  was  this.  We  had  one 

togoaon  °ame  Mr-  Tell-true  came  into  our  parts,  and  he  told 
Pilgrimage.  jt  about  what  Christian  had  done,  that  went 
from  the  City  of  Destruction.  Namely,  how  he  had  forsaken 
his  Wife  and  Children,  and  had  betaken  himself  to  a  Pilgrims 
Life.  It  was  also  confidently  reported  how  he  had  killed 
a  Serpent  that  did  come  out  to  resist  him  in  his  Journey, 
and  how  he  got  thorow  to  whither  he  intended.  It  was  also 
told  what  Welcome  he  had  at  all  his  Lord's  Lodgings ; 
specially  when  he  came  to  the  Gates  of  the  Coelestial  City. 
For  there,  said  the  man,  He  was  received  with  sound  of 
Trumpet  by  a  company  of  shining  ones.  He  told  it  also, 
how  all  the  Bells  in  the  City  did  rins;  for  Joy  at  his 

»/  O  tf 

Reception,  and  what  Golden  Garments  he  was  cloathed 
with  ;  with  many  other  things  that  now  I  shall  forbear  to 
relate.  In  a  word,  that  man  so  told  the  Story  of  Christian 

*. 

and  his  Travels,  that  my  Heart  fell  into  a  burning  haste  to 
be  gone  after  him,  nor  could  Father  or  Mother  stay  me,  so 
I  got  from  them,  and  am  come  thus  far  on  my  Way. 


CHRISTIANS   NAME   FAMOUS  349 

GIIEATH.   You  came  in  at  the  Gate,  did  you  not  ? 

VALIANT.  Yes,  yes.  For  the  same  man  also  told  us,  that 
all  would  be  nothing,  if  we  did  not  begin  to  He  begins  right. 
enter  this  way  at  the  Gate. 

GREATH.  Look  you,  said  the  Guide,  to  Christiana,  The  Pil- 
grimage  of  your  Husband,  and   what  he   has     Christian's 
gotten  thereby,  is  spread  abroad  far  and  near. 

VALIANT.  Why,  is  this  Christians  Wife  ? 

GIIEATH.   Yes,  that  it  is ;  and  these  are  also  her  four  Sons. 

VALIANT.  What  !  and  going  on  Pilgrimage  too  ? 

GREATH.   Yes  verily,  they  are  following  after. 

VALIANT.  It  glads  me  at  Heart  !    Good  man  !    How  Joy- 
ful  will  he   be,  when  he   shall    see  them   that     He  is  much 
would  not  go  with  him,  yet  to  enter  after  him     %%%££  "* 
in  at  the  Gates  into  the  City  ?  Wife- 

GREATH.  Without  doubt  it  will  be  a  Comfort  to  him.  For 
next  to  the  Joy  of  seeing  himself  there,  it  will  be  a  Joy  to  meet 
there  his  Wife  and  his  Children. 

VALIANT.  But  now  you  are  upon  that,  pray  let  me  hear 
your  Opinion  about  it.  Some  make  a  Question  whether  we 
shall  know  one  another  when  we  are  there  ? 

GREATH.  Do  they  think  they  shall  know  themselves  then  ? 
Or  that  they  shall rejoyce  to  see  themselves  in  that  Bliss?  And 
if  they  think  they  shall  know  and  do  these,  why  not  know 
others,  and  rejoyce  in  their  Welfare  also  ? 

Again,  since  Relations  are  our  second  self,  tho"  that  State 
will  be  dissolved  there,  yet  why  may  it  not  be  rationally  con- 
cluded that  we  shall  be  more  glad  to  see  them  there,  than  to 
see  they  are  wanting? 

VALIANT.  Well,  I  perceive  whereabouts  you  are  as  to  this. 
Have  you  any  more  things  to  ask  me  about  my  beginning  to 
come  on  Pilgrimage  ? 

GREATH.  Yes.  Was  your  Father  and  Mother  willing  that 
you  should  become  a  Pilgrim  ? 


350  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

VALIANT.  Oh,  no.  They  used  all  means  imaginable  to 
perswade  me  to  stay  at  Home. 

GREATH.      Why,  what  could  they  say  against  it  ? 

VALIANT.  They  said  it  was  an  idle  Life,  and  if  I  myself 
'Jiie  great  were  not  inclined  to  Sloth  and  Laziness,  I  would 

stumbling-  -p,.*       .      ,     ^        •!••• 

Blocks  never  countenance  a  rilgrim  s  Condition. 

that  by  hts  GREATH.  And  zvhat  did  they  say  else  ? 

Fnends  were  &       & 

laid  in  his  way.  VALIANT.  Why,  They  told  me,  That  it  was 
a  dangerous  Way  ;  yea  the  most  dangerous  Way  in  the  World, 
said  they,  is  that  which  the  Pilgrims  go. 

GREATH.  Did  they  show  wherein  this  way  is  so  danger- 
ous ? 

VALIANT.  Yes,  and  that  in  many  Particulars. 

GREATH.  Name  some  of  them. 

VALIANT.  They  told  me  of  the  Slough  of  Dispond,  where 
The  first  Christian  was  well-nigh  smothered.  They  told 

stumbling  me  that  there  were  Archers  standing  ready  in 

Block. 

Beelzebub- Castle,  to  shoot  them  that  should 
knock  at  the  Wicket-Gate  for  Entrance.  They  told  me  also 
of  the  Wood  and  dark  Mountains,  of  the  Hill  Difficulty,  of 
the  Lions,  and  also  of  the  three  Giants,  Bloody-Man,  Maid, 
and  Slay-good.  They  said  moreover,  that  there  was  a  foul 
Fiend  haunted  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  and  that  Christian 
was,  by  him,  almost  bereft  of  Life.  Besides,  said  they,  you 
must  go  over  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  where  the 
Hobgoblins  are,  where  the  Light  is  Darkness,  where  the  way 
is  full  of  Snares,  Pits,  Traps,  and  Gins.  They  told  me  also 
of  Giant- Despair,  of  Doubting-Castle,  and  of  the  Ruins  that 
the  Pilgrims  met  with  there.  Further,  they  said,  I  must  go 
over  the  enchanted  Ground,  which  was  dangerous.  And  that 
after  all  this,  I  should  find  a  River,  over  which  I  should  find 
no  Bridge,  and  that  that  River  did  lie  betwixt  me  and  the 
Coelestial  Country. 

GREATH.  And  was  this  all? 


THE  STUMBLING-BLOCKS  351 

VALIANT.  No,  they  also  told  me  that  this  way  was  full  of 
Deceivers,  and  of  Persons  that  laid  await  there,     The  Second. 
to  turn  good  men  out  of  the  Path. 

GREATH.  But  how  did  they  make  that  out  ? 

VALIANT.  They  told  me  that  Mr.  Worldly -wise- Man  did 
there  lie  in  wait  to  deceive.  They  also  said  that  there  was 
Formality  and  Hypocrisy  continually  on  the  Road.  They 
said  also  that  By-ends,  Talkative,  or  Demas,  would  go  near 
to  gather  me  up ;  that  the  Flatterer  would  catch  me  in  his 
Net ;  or  that  with  green-headed  Ignorance  I  would  presume 
to  go  on  to  the  Gate,  from  whence  he  always  was  sent  back 
to  the  Hole  that  was  in  the  side  of  the  Hill,  and  made  to  go 
the  By-way  to  Hell. 

GREATH.  /  promise  you,  this  was  enough  to  discourage. 
But  did  they  make  an  end  here  ? 

VALIANT.  No,  stay.  They  told  me  also  of  many  that  had 
tried  that  way  of  old,  and  that  had  gone  a  great  The  Third. 
way  therein,  to  see  if  they  could  find  something  of  the  Glory 
there  that  so  many  had  so  much  talked  of  from  time  to 
time ;  and  how  they  came  back  again,  and  befooled  them- 
selves for  setting  a  foot  out  of  Doors  in  that  Path,  to  the 
Satisfaction  of  all  the  Country.  And  they  named  several 
that  did  so,  as  Obstinate  and  Pliable,  Mistrust,  and  Timorous, 
Turn-away,  and  old  Atheist,  with  several  more;  who,  they 
said,  had,  some  of  them,  gone  far  to  see  if  they  could  find, 
but  not  one  of  them  found  so  much  Advantage  by  going  as 
amounted  to  the  weight  of  a  Feather. 

GREATH.  Said  they  any  thing  more  to  discourage  you  ? 

VALIANT.  Yes,  they  told  me  of  one  Mr.  Fearing,  who  wras 
a  Pilgrim,  and  how  he  found  this  way  so  The  Fourth. 
solitary,  that  he  never  had  comfortable  Hour  therein  ;  also 
that  Mr.  Dispondency  had  like  to  been  starved  therein ;  yea, 
and  also,  which  I  had  almost  forgot,  that  Christian  himself, 
about  whom  there  has  been  such  a  Noise,  after  all  his 


352  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Ventures  for  a  Coelestial  Crown,  was  certainly  drowned  in 
the  black  River,  and  never  went  foot  further,  however  it  was 
smothered  up. 

GREATH.  And  did  none  of  these  thing's  discourage  you  ? 

VALIANT.  No.    They  seemed  but  as  so  many  Nothings  to  me. 

GREATH.  How  came  that  about  ? 

«„„  ».  got  o«r  VALIANT.  Why,  I  still  believed  what  Mr.  Tell- 
these  stumbling-  true  had  said  ;  and  that  carried  me  beyond 

Blocks.  ,,  n 

them  all. 

GREATH.   Then  this  was  your  Victory,  even  your  Faith. 

VALIANT.  It  was  so.  I  believed  and  therefore  came  out, 
got  into  the  Way,  fought  all  that  set  themselves  against  me, 
and  by  believing  n,m  come  to  this  Place. 

J  O 

Who  would  true   Valour  see. 
Let  him  come  hither ; 
One  here  will  constant  he, 
Come   Wind,  come   Weather. 
Thews  no  Discouragement, 

~ 

Shall  make  him  once  Relent, 
His  first  avowed  Intent, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

C5 

Who  so  beset  him  round 
With  dismal  Stories, 
Do  but  themselves  confound, 
His  Strength  the  more  is. 
No  Lion  can  him  fright, 
He  11  with  a  Giant  Fight. 
But  he  will  have  a  rig/it, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin,  n or  foul  Fiend, 
Can  daunt  his  Spirit  ; 
He  "knows,  he  at  the  end, 
Shall  Life  Inherit. 


THE   ENCHANTED   GROUND  353 

Then  Fancies  fly  away, 
Hill  fear  not  what  men  say, 
He^ll  labor  Night  and  Day, 
To  be  a  Pilgrim. 

By  this  time  they  were  got  to  the  enchanted  Ground,  where 
the  Air  naturally  tended  to  make  one  Drowsy,  \part,  page  \6$, 
And  that  place  was  all  grown  over  with  Briars  and  Thorns ; 
excepting  here  and  there,  where  was  an  enchanted  Arbor,  upon 
which,  if  a  Man  sits,  or  in  which  if  a  man  sleeps,  "'tis  a  question, 
say  some,  whether  ever  they  shall  rise  or  wake  again  in  this 
World.  Over  this  Forest  therefore  they  went,  both  one 
with  another,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before,  for  that  he 
was  the  Guide,  and  Mr.  Valiant-for-trnth,  he  came  behind, 
being  there  a  Guard,  for  fear  lest  peradventure  some  Fiend, 
or  Dragon,  or  Giant,  or  Thief,  should  fall  upon  their  Rear, 
and  so  do  Mischief.  They  went  on  here  each  man  with  his 
Sword  drawn  in  his  Hand ;  for  they  knew  it  was  a  dangerous 
place.  Also  they  cheered  up  one  another  as  well  as  they 
could.  Feeble-mind,  Mr.  Great-heart  commanded  should 
come  up  after  him,  and  Mr.  Dispondency  was  under  the  Eye 
of  Mr.  Valiant. 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great  Mist  and  a  Dark- 
ness fell  upon  them  all,  so  that  they  could  scarce,  for  a  great 
while,  see  the  one  the  other.  Wherefore  they  were  forced 
for  some  time,  to  feel  for  one  another  by  Words,  for  they 
walked  not  by  Sight. 

But  any  one  must  think  that  here  was  but  sorry  going  for 
the  best  of  them  all,  but  how  much  worse  for  the  Women 
and  Children,  who  both  of  Feet  and  Heart  were  but  tender. 
Yet  so  it  was,  that,  thorow  the  incouraging  Words  of  he 
that  led  in  the  Front,  and  of  him  that  brought  them  up 
behind,  they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag  along. 

The  Way  also  was  here  very  wearisome  thorow  Dirt  and 


354  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

Slabbiness.  Nor  was  there  on  all  this  Ground,  so  much  as 
one  Inn  or  Victualling-  House,  therein  to  refresh  the  feebler 
sort.  Here  therefore  was  grunting,  and  puffing,  and  sighing: 
While  one  tumbleth  over  a  Bush,  another  sticks  fast  in  the 
Dirt,  and  the  Children,  some  of  them,  lost  their  Shoes  in 
the  Mire.  While  one  crys  out,  I  am  down,  and  another, 
Ho,  where  are  you  ?  and  a  third,  the  Bushes  have  got  such 
fast  hold  on  me,  I  think  I  cannot  get  away  from  them. 

Then  they  came  at  an  Arbor,  warm,  and  promising  much 
An  Arbor  on  Refreshing  to  tha  Pilgrims;  for  it  was  finely 
the.  inchanting  wrought  above-head,  beautified  with  Greens, 
furnished  with  Benches  and  Settles.  It  also  had 
in  it  a  soft  Couch  whereon  the  weary  might  lean.  This, 
you  must  think,  all  things  considered,  was  tempting  ;  for  the 
Pilgrims  already  began  tj  be  foiled  with  the  badness  of  the 
way  ;  but  there  was  not  one  of  them  that  made  so  much  as 
a  motion  to  stop  there.  Yea,  for  ought  I  could  perceive, 
they  continually  gave  so  good  heed  to  the  Advice  of  their 
Guide,  and  he  did  so  faithfully  tell  them  of  Dangers,  and 
of  the  Nature  of  Dangers  when  they  were  at  them,  that 
usually  when  they  were  nearest  to  them,  they  did  most  pluck 
up  their  Spirits,  and  hearten  one  another  to  deny  the  Flesh. 
The  Name  of  This  Arbor  was  called  The  slothfuTs  Friend, 
on  purpose  to  allure,  if  it  might  be,  some  of 
the  Pilgrims  there,  to  take  up  their  Rest,  when  weary. 

I  saw  then  in  my  Dream,  that  they  went  on  in  this  their 
TJie  Way  dif-  solitary  Ground,  till  they  came  to  a  place  at 
which  a  man  is  apt  to  lose  his  Way.  Now, 
tho'  when  it  was  light,  their  Guide  could  well  enough  tell 
how  to  miss  those  ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the  dark  he 
The  Guide  has  was  Pu^  ^°  a  stand.  But  he  had  in  his  Pocket 


a  Map  of  ail         a    Mai)    of  all    ways    leading   to   or  from    the 

ways  leading  to         ^  i,  PI 

or  from  the          Coalestial   City:    wherefore   he   strook    a   Limit 

ft, 

(for  he  never  goes  also  without  his  Tinder-box) 


HEEDLESS    AND   TOO-BOLD  355 

and  takes  a  view  of  his  Book  or  Map,  which  bids  him  he 
careful  in  that  place  to  turn  to  the  right-hand-way.  And 
had  he  not  here  been  careful  to  look  in  his  Map,  they  had 
all,  in  probability,  been  smothered  in  the  Mud,  for  just 
a  little  before  them,  and  that  at  the  end  of  the  cleanest 
Way  too,  was  a  Pit,  none  knows  how  deep,  full  of  nothing 
but  Mud,  there  made  on  purpose  to  destroy  the  Pilgrims  in. 

Then  thought  I  with  myself,  who  that  goeth  on  Pilgrim- 
age, but  would  have  one  of  these  Maps  about     God's  Book. 
him,  that  he  may  look  when  he  is  at  a  stand,  which  is  the  way 

•/  »• 

he  must  take. 

They  went  on   then   in  this  enchanted  Ground,  till  they 
came  to  where  was  an  other  Arbor,  and  it  was     An  Arbor  and 
built  by  the  Hi«;h- way-side.    And  in  that  Arbor     tivo  asleep 

therein. 

there  lay  two  men  whose  Names  were  Heedless 
and  Too-bold.  These  two  went  thus  far  on  Pilgrimage  ;  but 
here  being  wearied  with  their  Journy,  they  sat  down  to  rest 
themselves,  and  so  fell  fast  asleep.  When  the  Pilgrims  saw 
them,  they  stood  still  and  shook  their  Heads,  for  they  knew 
that  the  Sleepers  were  in  a  pitiful  Case.  Then  they  consulted 
what  to  do,  whether  to  go  on  and  leave  them  in  their  Sleep, 
or  to  step  to  them  and  try  to  awake  them.  So  they  concluded 
to  go  to  them  and  wake  them ;  that  is,  if  they  could ;  but 
with  this  Caution,  namely,  to  take  heed  that  themselves  did 
not  sit  down  nor  embrace  tti3  offered  Benefit  of  that  Arbor. 

So  they  went  in  and  spake  to  the  men,  and  called  each  by 
his  Name,  (for  the  Guide,  it  seems,  did  know     __    „.,    . 

J  /to  x  tt(f)%'i'J)1S 

them)   but    there    was    no   Voice    nor    Answer,     try  to  wake 

fjtj)  -1 M 

Then  the  Guide  did  shake  them,  and  do  what 

he  could  to  disturb  them.     Then  said  one  of  them,  /  will  pay 

you  when  I  take  my  Mony.     At  which  the  Guide  shook  his 

Head.     /  will  fight   so   long   as  I  can    hold  my  Sword    in 

my  Handy  said   the    other.     At  that,  one  of  the  Children 

laughed. 


356  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

Then  said  Christiana,  what  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?     The 
.  Guide  said,  They  talk  in  their  Sleep.     If  you 

deavour  is  strike  them,  beat  them,  or  what  ever  else  you 

do  to  them,  they  will  answer  you  after  this 
fashion  ;  or  as  one  of  them  said  in  old  time,  when  the 
Waves  of  the  Sea  did  beat  upon  him,  and  he  slept  as  one 
upon  the  Mast  of  a  Ship,  When  I  aicake  I  will  seek  it  again. 
You  know  when  men  talk  in  their  Sleeps,  they  say  any  thing ; 
but  their  Words  are  not  governed,  either  by  Faith  or  Reason. 
There  is  an  Incoherence/  in  their  Words  now,  as  there  was 
before,  betwixt  their  going  on  Pilgrimage  and  sitting  down 
here.  This  then  is  the  Mischief  on't,  when  heedless  ones  go 
on  Pilgrimage,  'tis  twenty  to  one,  but  they  are  served  thus. 
For  this  enchanted  Ground  is  one  of  the  last  Refuges  that 
the  Enemy  to  Pilgrims  has ;  wherefore  it  is  as  you  see, 
placed  almost  at  the  end  of  the  Way,  and  so  it  standeth 
against  us  with  the  more  Advantage.  For  when,  thinks  the 
Enemy,  will  these  Fools  be  so  desirous  to  sit  down,  as  when 
they  are  weary  ?  and  when  so  like  to  be  weary,  as  when 
almost  at  their  Journeys  end  ?  Therefore  it  is,  I  say,  that 
the  enchanted  Ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the  Land  Beidah, 
and  so  near  the  end  of  their  Race.  Wherefore  let  Pilgrims 
look  to  themselves,  lest  it  happen  to  them  as  it  has  done  to 
these,  that,  as  you  see,  are  fallen  asleep,  and  none  can  wake 
them. 

Then  the  Pilgrims  desired  with  trembling  to  go  forward, 
Tfie  light  of  the  only  they  prayed  their  Guide  to  strike  a  Light, 
Wor(1-  that  they  might  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by 

the  help  of  the  light  of  a  Lanthorn.  So  he  strook  a  light, 
and  they  went  by  the  help  of  that  thorow  the  rest  of  this 
way,  tho'  the  Darkness  was  very  great. 

But  the  Children  began  to  be  sorely  weary, 

The  Children  i  .  1Vi 

cryforweari-      and  they  cryed  out  unto  him  that  loveth  Pil- 
grims, to   make   their  way  more  Comfortable. 


ms*. 


THE   STORY    OF   STANDFAST  357 

So  by  that  they  had  gone  a  little  further,  a  Wind  arose 
that  drove  away  the  Fog,  so  the  Air  became  more  clear. 

Yet  they  were  not  off  (by  much)  of  the  enchanted  Ground  ; 
only  now  they  could  see  one  another  better,  and  the  way 
wherein  they  should  walk. 

Now  when  thev  were  almost  at  the  end  of  this  Ground, 

V 

they  perceived  that  a  little  before  them,  was  a  solemn  Noise, 
as  of'  one  that  was  much  concerned.  So  they  went  on  and 
looked  before  them,  and  behold,  they  saw,  as  they  thought, 
a  Man  upon  his  Knees,  with  Hands  and  Eyes  standfast  upon 
lift  up,  and  speaking,  as  they  thought,  earn-  SiSKi"  **" 
estly  to  one  that  was  above.  They  drew  nigh,  Ground. 
but  could  not  tell  what  he  said  ;  so  they  went  softly  till 
he  had  done.  When  he  had  done,  he  got  up  and  began  to 
run  towards  the  Coelestial  City.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  called 
after  him,  saying,  Soho,  Friend,  let  us  have  your  Company, 
if  you  go,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  to  the  Coelestial  City.  So 
the  man  stopped,  and  they  came  up  to  him.  But  so  soon 
as  Mr.  Honest  saw  him,  he  said,  I  know  this  man.  Then 
said  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth,  Prithee,  who  is  it  ?  Tis  one, 
said  he,  that  comes  from  whereabouts  I  dwelt ;  The  story  of 
his  Name  is  Stand-fast ,  he  is  certainly  a  right  Standfast, 
good  Pilgrim. 

So  they  came  up  one  to  another  and  presently  Stand-fast 
said  to  old  Honest,  Ho,  Father  Honest,  are  you  there  ?  Ay, 
said  he,  that  I  am,  as  sure  as  you  are  there.  Right  glad  am 
I,  said  Mr.  Stand-fast,  that  I  have  found  you  on  this  Road. 
And  as  glad  am  I,  said  the  other,  that  I  espied  you  upon 
your  Knees.  Then  Mr.  Stand-fast  blushed,  and 

"  €  "  Talk  betwixt 

said,  But   why  ?    did  you   see   me  ?    Yes,  that     Mm  ami  Mr. 
I  did,  quoth  the  other,  and  with  my  Heart  was 
glad  at  the  Sight.     Why,  what  did  you  think,  said  Stand- 
fast ?      Think,   said    old    Honest,    what     should    I    think  ? 
I   thought   we   had   an    honest    Man    upon    the  Road,  and 


358  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

therefore  should  have  his  Company  by  and  by.  If  you 
thought  n  >t  amiss,  how  happy  am  I  ?  But  i  f  I  be  not 
as  I  should,  I  alone  must  bear  it.  That  is  true,  said  the 
other.  But  your  fear  doth  further  confirm  me  that  things 
are  right  betwixt  the  Prince  of  Pilgrims  and  your  Soul:  For 
he  saith,  Blessed  Is  the  Man  that  feareth  always. 

VALIANT.  Well  but  Brother,  I  pray  thee  tell  us  what  was 
They  found  ^  that  was  the  cause  of  thy  being  upon  thy 
him  at  prayer.  Knees,  even  now  ?  Was  it  for  that  some  special 
Mercy  laid  Obligations  upon  thee,  or  how  ? 

STAND.  Why  we  are  as  you  see,  upon  the  enchanted  Ground, 
and  as  I  was  coming  along,  I  was  musing  with 

What  it  ivas  °' 

that  fetched  him     myself  of  what  a  dangerous  Road  the  Road  in 

upon  Jiis  Knees.       ,  i  •         i  11*"  ,  i          11 

this  place  was,  and  how  many  that  had  come 
even  thus  far  on  Pilgrimage,  had  here  been  stopt,  and  been 
destroyed.  I  thought  also  of  the  manner  of  the  Death  with 
which  this  place  destroyeth  Men.  Those  that  die  here,  die 
of  no  violent  Distemper.  The  Death  which  such  die,  is  not 
grievous  to  them.  For  he  that  goeth  away  in  a  Sleep,  begins 
that  Journey  with  Desire  and  Pleasure.  Yea  such  acquiesce 
in  the  Will  of  that  Disease. 

HON.  Then  Mr.  Honest  Interrupting  of  him  said,  did  you 
see  the  two  Men  asleep  in  the  A  rbor  ? 

STAND.  Ay,  Ay,  I  saw  Heedless,  and  Too-bold  there  ;  and 
for  ought  I  know,  there  they  will  lye  till  they  Rot.  But  let 
me  go  on  in  my  Tale  ?  As  I  was  thus  Musing,  as  I  said, 
there  was  one  in  very  pleasant  Attire,  but  old,  that  presented 
herself  unto  me,  and  offered  me  three  things,  to  wit,  her  Body, 
her  Purse,  and  her  Bed.  Now  the  Truth  is,  I  was  both  aweary 
and  sleepy  ;  I  am  also  as  poor  as  a  Hoivlet,  and  that,  perhaps, 
the  Witch  knew.  Well,  I  repulsed  her  once  and  twice,  but 
she  put  by  my  Repulses,  and  smiled.  Then  I  began  to  be 
angry,  but  she  mattered  that  nothing  at  all.  Then  she  made 
Offers  again,  and  said,  If  I  would  be  ruled  by  her,  she  would 


MADAM   BUBBLE  359 

make  me  great  and  happy.     For,  said  she,  I  am  the  Mistress 
of  the    World,   and   men   are   made    happy  by  me.      Then 
I  asked  her  Name,  and    she   told    me   it    was     Mafiam 
Madarn^Bubble.    This  set  me  further  from  her;     #«&&/<%  or  this 
but   she    still    followed    me    with    Inticements. 
Then  I  betook  me,  as  you  see,  to  my  Knees,  and  with  Hands 
lift  up  and  cries,  I  pray'd  to  him  that  had  said,  he  would 
help.     So  just  as  you  came  up,  the  Gentlewoman  went  her 
way.     Then  I  continued  to  give  thanks  for  this   my  great 
Deliverance ;  for  I  verily  believe  she  intended  no  good,  but 
rather  sought  to  make  stop  of  me  in  my  Journey. 

HON.  Without  doubt  her  Designs  were  bad.  But  stay,  now 
you  talk  of  her,  methinks  I  either  have  seen  her,  or  have  read 
some  story  of  her. 

STANDF.  Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

HON.  Madam  Bubble  ?  Is  she  not  a  tall  comely  Dame, 
something  of  a  swarthy  Completion  ? 

STANDF.  Right,  you  hit  it,  she  is  just  such  an  one. 

HON.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly,  and  give  you,  a 
Smile  at  the  end  of  a  Sentence  ? 

STANDF.  You  fall  right  upon  it  again ;  for  these  are  her 
very  Actions. 

HON.  Doth  she  not  wear  a  great  Purse  by  her  Side,  and  is 
not  her  Hand  often  in  it,  fingering  her  Mony,  as  if  that  was 
her  Heart's  delight  ? 

STANDF.  Tis  just  so.  Had  she  stood  by  all  this  while, 
you  could  not  more  amply  have  set  her  forth  before  n:e,  nor 
have  better  described  her  Features. 

HON.  Then  he  that  drew  her  Picture  was  a  good  Limner, 
and  he  that  wrote  of  her,  said  true. 

G HEATH.    This  Woman  is  a  Witch,  and  it  is  by  Virtue  of 
her  Sorceries   that    this    Ground    is  enchanted.     The  World. 
Whoever  doth  lay  their  Head  down  in  her  Lap,  had  as  good 
lay  it  down  upon  that  Block  over  which  the  Ax  doth  hang ; 


360  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

and  whoever  lay  their  Eyes  upon  her  Beauty  are  counted  the 
Enemies  of  God.  This  is  she  that  maintaineth  in  their 
Splendor,  all  those  that  are  the  Enemies  of  Pilgrims.  Yea, 
This  is  she  that  has  bought  off  many  a  man  from  a  Pilgrim's 
Life.  She  is  a  great  Gossiper,  she  is  always,  both  she  and  her 
Daughters,  at  one  Pilgrim's  Heels  or  other,  now  commend- 
ing, and  then  preferring  the  excellencies  of  this  Life.  She 
is  a  bold  and  impudent  Slut ;  she  will  talk  with  any  Man. 
She  always  laugheth  poor  Pilgrims  to  scorn,  but  highly 
commends  the  Rich.  If  there  be  one  cunning  to  get  Mony 
in  a  Place,  she  will  speak  well  of  him  from  House  to  House. 
She  loveth  Banqueting,  and  Feasting,  mainly  well,  she  is 
always  at  one  full  Table  or  another.  She  has  given  it  out 
in  some  places,  that  she  is  a  Goddess,  and  therefore  some 
do  Worship  her.  She  has  her  times  and  open  places  of 
Cheating,  and  she  will  say  and  avow  it,  that  none  can  shew 
a  Good  comparable  to  hers.  She  promiseth  to  dwell  with 
Children's  Children,  if  they  will  but  love  and  make  much  of 

«/ 

her.  She  will  cast  out  of  her  Purse  Gold  like  Dust,  in  some 
places,  and  to  some  Persons.  She  loves  to  be  sought  after, 
spoken  well  of,  and  to  lie  in  the  Bosoms  of  Men.  She  is  never 
weary  of  commending  her  Commodities,  and  she  loves  them 
most  that  think  best  of  her.  She  will  promise  to  some 
Crowns  and  Kingdoms,  if  they  will  but  take  her  Advice ;  yet 
manv  has  she  brought  to  the  Halter,  and  ten  thousand  times 

«/  cj 

more  to  Hell. 

STANDF.  O !  said  Stand-fast,  What  a  Mercy  is  it  that  I  did 
resist  her :  for  whither  might  she  a  drawn  me  ? 

GRKATH.  Whither !  Nay,  none  but  God  knows  whither. 
But  in  general  to  be  sure,  she  would  a  drawn  thee  into  many 
foolish  and  hurtful  Lusts,  which  drown  men  in  Destruction 
and  Perdition. 

Twas  she  that  set  Absalom  against  his  Father,  and  Jero- 
boam against  his  Master.  Twas  she  that  persuaded  Judas 


THE   LAND   OF   BEULAH  361 

to  sell  his  Lord,  and  that  prevailed  with  Demos  to  forsake 
the  godly  Pilgrim's  Life.  None  can  tell  of  the  Mischief  that 
she  doth.  She  makes  Variance  betwixt  Rulers  and  Subjects, 
betwixt  Parents  and  Children,  'twixt  Neighbor  and  Neighbor, 
'twixt  a  Man  and  his  Wife,  'twixt  a  Man  and  himself,  'twixt 
the  Flesh  and  the  Heart. 

Wherefore  good  Master  Stand-fast,  be  as  your  Name  is, 
and  when  you  have  done  all  stand. 

At  this  Discourse  there  was  among  the  Pilgrims  a  mixture  of 
Joy  and  Trembling,  but  at  length  the?/  brake  out  and  Sang. 

What  Danger  is  the  Pilgrim  in, 

How  many  are  his  Foes, 

How  many  ways  there  are  to  Sin, 

No  living  Mortal  knows. 

Some  of  the  Ditch  shy  are,  yet  can 

Lie  tumbling  on  the  Mire. 

Some  tho"1  they  shun  the  Frying-pan, 

Do  leap  into  the  Fire. 

After  this  I  beheld,  until  they  were  come  unto  the  Land 
of  Beulahj  where  the  Sun  shineth  Night  and  i  pan, page  183. 
Day.  Here,  because  they  was  weary,  they  betook  themselves 
a  while  to  Rest.  And  because  this  Country  was  common 
for  Pilgrims,  and  because  the  Orchards  and  Vineyards  that 
were  here,  belonged  to  the  King  of  the  Ccelestial  Country, 
therefore  they  were  licensed  to  make  bold  with  any  of  his 

•/  » 

things. 

But  a  little  while  soon  refreshed  them  here,  for  the  Bells 
did  so  ring,  and  the  Trumpets  continually  sound  so  melo- 
diously, that  they  could  not  sleep,  and  yet  they  received  as 
much  refreshing  as  if  they  had  slept  their  Sleep  never  so 
soundly.  Here  also  all  the  noise  of  them  that  walked  the 
Streets,  was,  More  Pilgrims  are  come  to  Town.  And  another 
would  answer,  saying,  And  so  many  went  over  the  Water, 


THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

and  were  let  in  at  the  Golden  Gates  to  Day.  They  would 
cry  again,  There  is  now  a  Legion  of  Shining  ones,  just  come 
to  Town  ;  by  which  we  know  that  there  are  more  Pilgrims 
upon  the  Road,  for  here  they  come  to  wait  for  them,  and 
to  comfort  them  after  all  their  Sorrow.  Then  the  Pilgrims 
got  up  and  walked  to  and  fro.  But  how  were  their  Ears  now 
filled  with  heavenly  Noises,  and  their  Eyes  delighted  with 
Coelestial  Visions  ?  In  this  Land,  they  heard  nothing,  saw 
nothing,  felt  nothing,  smelt  nothing,  tasted  nothing,  that  was 
offensive  to  their  Stomach  or  Mind ;  only  when  they  tasted 
Death  bitter  to  of  the  Water  of  the  River  over  which  they 
"*Jtlf*ht^ut  were  to  go,  they  thought  that  tasted  a  little 
Soul.  Bitterish  to  the  Palate,  but  it  proved  sweeter 

when  'twas  down. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  Record  kept  of  the  Names  of 
them  that  had  been  Pilgrims  of  old,  and  a  History  of  all  the 
Death  has  Us  famous  Acts  that  they  had  done.  It  was  here 

mofZtWc*  als°  mUC>h  discoursed  how  the  mvcr  to  S0me 
the  Tide.  had  had  its  Jlowlngs,  and  what  ebbings  it  has 

had  while  others  have  gone  over.  It  has  been  in  a  manner 
dn/  for  some,  while  it  has  overflowed  its  Banks  for  others. 

In  this  place,  the  Children  of  the  Town  would  go  into  the 
King's  Gardens  and  gather  Nosegays  for  the  Pilgrims,  and 
bring  them  to  them  with  much  Affection.  Here  also  grew 
Camphire  with  Spikenard,  and  Saffron,  Calamus,  and  Cina- 
mon,  with  all  its  Trees  of  Frankincense,  Myrrh,  and  Aloes, 
with  all  chief  Spices.  With  these  the  Pilgrims'  Chambers 
were  perfumed  while  they  stayed  here ;  and  with  these  were 
their  Bodies  anointed  to  prepare  them  to  go  over  the  River 
when  the  time  appointed  was  come. 

Now  while  they  lay  here  and  waited  for  the  good  Hour, 

A  Messenger  of  tliere  Was  a  Noise  in  tlie  Town,  that  there  was 
Death  sent  to  a  Post  come  from  the  Coelestial  City,  with 

Christiana.  ~.     .     . 

Matter  or  great  Importance,  to  one  Ltinstiana, 


CHRISTIANAS   LAST   WORDS  363 

the  Wife  of  Christian  the  Pilgrim.  So  Enquiry  was  made 
for  her,  and  the  House  was  found  out  where  she  was,  so  the 
Post  presented  her  with  a  Letter.  The  Contents  whereof 
was,  Hail,  Good  Woman,  I  bring  tliee  Tidings  His  Message. 
that  the  Master  calleth  for  thee,  and  expecteth  that  thou 
shouldest  stand  in  his  Presence,  in  Cloaths  of  Immortality, 
within  this  ten  Days. 

When  he  had  read  this  Letter  to  her,  he  gave  her  there- 
with a  sure  Token  that  he  was  a  true  Messenger,  and  was 
come  to  bid  her  make  haste  to  be  gone.  The  Token  was, 
An  Arrow  with  a  Point  sharpened  with  Love,  let  HOIO  u-eicome  is 


easily  into  her  Heart,  which  by  degrees  wrought     Death  to  them 

*  .77  7        •  that  have  n°- 

so   effectually  with    her,   that    at    the    time   ap-     thing  to  do  but 

pointed  she  must  be  gone. 

When  Christiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come,  and  that 
she  was  the  first  of  this  Company  that  was  to  go  over,  she 
called  for  Mr.   Great-heart  her  Guide,   and  told  him   how 
Matters  were.     So  he  told  her  he  was  heartily     ner  speech  to 
glad  of  the  News,  and  could  a  been  glad  had     her  Guide- 
the  Post  came  for  him.     Then  she  bid  that  he  should  give 
Advice  how  all  things  should  be  prepared  for  her  Journey. 

So  he  told  her,  saying,  Thus  and  thus  it  must  be,  and  we 
that  survive  will  accompany  you  to  the  River-side. 

Then  she  called  for  her  Children,  and  gave  them  her 
Blessing,  and  told  them  that  she  yet  read  with  Toh&rCiiiidren. 
Comfort  the  Mark  that  was  set  in  their  Foreheads,  and  was 
glad  to  see  them  with  her  there,  and  that  they  had  kept 
their  Garments  so  white.  Lastly,  she  bequeathed  to  the 
Poor  that  little  she  had,  and  commanded  her  Sons  and  her 
Daughters  to  be  ready  against  the  Messenger  should  come 
for  them. 

When  she  had  spoken  these  Words  to  her  Guide  and  to 
her  Children,  she  called  for  Mr.  Valiant-Jo?--  TO  Mr.  Valiant. 
truth,  and  said  unto  him,  Sir,  you  have  in  all  places  shewed 


364  THE   PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

yourself  true-hearted ;  be  faithful  unto  Death,  and  my  King 
will  give  you  a  Crown  of  Life.  I  would  also  intreat  you  to 
have  an  Eye  to  my  Children,  and  if  at  any  time  you  see 
them  faint,  speak  comfortably  to  them.  For  my  Daughters, 
my  Sons'  Wives,  they  have  been  faithful,  and  a  fulfilling  of 
TO  Mr.  stand-  the  Promise  upon  them  will  be  their  end.  But 
she  gave  Mr.  Stand-fast  a  Ring. 

Then  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and  said  of  him, 
TO  Old  Honest.  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no 
Guile.  Then  said  he,  I  wish  you  a  fair  Day  when  you  set 
out  for  Mount  Sion,  and  shall  be  glad  to  see  that  you  go 
over  the  River  dry-shod.  But  she  answered,  Come  Wet, 
come  Dry,  I  long  to  be  gone.  For  however  the  W.eather  is 
in  my  Journey,  I  shall  have  time  enough  when  I  come  there 
to  sit  down  and  rest  me,  and  dry  me. 

Then  came  in  that  good  Man  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  to  see  her. 

TO  Mr.  Heady-  So  she  said  to  him,  Thy  Travel  hither  has  been 
Malt.  with  Difficlllty?  but  that  will  make  thy  Rest 

the  sweeter.  But  watch,  and  be  ready,  for  at  an  Hour  when 
you  think  not,  the  Messenger  may  come. 

After  him,  came  in  Mr.  Dispondency,  and  his  Daughter 
TO  Dispon-  Mucli-ofraul.  To  whom  she  said,  You  ought 

data/  and  Jiis  with  Thankfulness  for  ever,  to  remember  your 
Deliverance  from  the  Hands  of  Giant  Despair, 
and  out  of  Doubting-Castle.  The  effect  of  that  Mercy  is 
that  you  are  brought  with  Safety  hither.  Be  ye  watch- 
ful, and  cast  away  Fear.  Be  sober,  and  hope  to  the 
End. 

Then  she  said  to  Mr.  Feeble-Mind,  Thou  wast  delivered 
TO  Feeble-  from  the  Mouth  of  Giant  Slay-good,  that  thou 

mightest  live  in  the  Light  of  the  Living  for 
ever,  and  see  thy  King  with  Comfort.  Only  I  advise  thee 
to  repent  thee  of  thy  aptness  to  fear  and  doubt  of  his 
Goodness  before  he  sends  for  thee,  lest  thou  shouldest  when 


MANNER   OF   DEPARTURE  365 

he  comes,  be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for  that  Fault  with 
Blushing. 

Now  the  Day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must  be  gone.  So 
the  Road  was  full  of  People  to  see  her  take 

i  T»        i     i      i  i      11     i       T»       i       i  i       Her  last  Day, 

her  Journey.  But  behold  all  the  Banks  beyond  and  manner  of 
the  River  were  full'  of  Horses  and  Chariots,  DeParture- 
which  were  come  down  from  above  to  accompany  her  to  the 
City-Gate.  So  she  came  forth  and  entered  the  Rive?*,  with 
a  Beckon  of  Farewell,  to  those  that  followed  her  to  the 
River  side.  The  last  word  she  was  heard  to 'say  here,  was, 
/  come  Lord,  to  be  with  thee  and  bless  thee. 

So  her  Children  and  Friends  returned  to  their  Place,  for 
that  those  that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried  her  out  of 
their  Sight.  So  she  went,  and  called,  and  entered  in  at  the 
Gate  with  all  the  Ceremonies  of  Joy  that  her  Husband 
Christian  had  done  before  her. 

At  her  Departure  her  Children  wept,  but  Mr.  Great-heart, 
and  Mr.  Valiant,  played  upon  the  well-tuned  Cymbal  and 
Harp  for  Joy.  So  all  departed  to  their  respective  Places. 

In  process  of  time  there  came  a  Post  to  the  Town  again, 
and  his  Business  was  with  Mr.  Ready-to-halt.     So  he  enquired 
him  out  and  said  to  him,  I  am  come  to  thee  in  the  Name  of 
him  whom  thou  hast  Loved  and  Followed,  tho"1  upon  Crutches. 
And  my  Message  is  to  tell  thee,  that  he  expects     Ready-to-hait 
thee  at  his  Table  to  Sup  with  him  in  his  King-     Summoned. 
dom  the  next  Day  after  Easter.     Wherefore  prepare  thyself 
for  this  Journey. 

Then  he  also  gave  him  a  Token  that  he  was  a  true 
Messenger,  saying,  /  have  broken  thy  golden  Bowl,  and  loosed 
thy  silver  Cord. 

After  this,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his  Fellow  Pilgrims, 
and  told  them,  saying,  I  am  sent  for,  and  God  shall  surely 
visit  you  also.  So  he  desired  Mr.  Valiant  to  make  his  Will. 


366  THE   PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

And  because  he  had  nothing  to  bequeath  to  them  that  should 
survive  him  but  his  Crutches  and  his  good  Wishes,  therefore 
Promises.  thus  he  said.  These  Crutches  I  bequeath  to  my 

Son  that  shall  tread  in  my  Steps,  with  an  hun- 
dred warm  Wishes  that  he  may  prove  better  than  I  have 
done. 

Then  he  thanked  Mr.  Great-heart  for  his  Conduct  and 
Kindness,  and  so  addressed  himself  to  his  Journey.  When  he 
came  at  the  brink  of  the  River,  he  said,  Now  I  shall  have  no 
more  need  of  these  Crutches,  since  yonder  are  Chariots  and 
His  last  Words.  Horses  for  me  to  ride  on.  The  last  words  he 
was  heard  to  say,  was,  Welcome  Life.  So  he  went  his  way. 

After  this,  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  Tidings  brought  him,  that 
Feeble-mind  the  Post  sounded  his  Horn  at  his  Chamber 
Summoned.  Door.  Then  he  came  in  and  told  him,  saying, 

I  am  come  to  tell  thee  that  thy  Master  has  need  of  thee, 
and  that  in  very  little  time  thou  must  behold  his  Face  in 
Brightness.  And  take  this  as  a  Token  of  the  Truth  of 
my  Message.  Those  that  look  out  at  the  Windows  shall  be 
darkened. 

Then  Mr.  Feeble-mind  called  for  his  Friends,  and  told  them 
what  Errand  had  been  brought  unto  him,  and  what  Token  he 
had  received  of  the  truth  of  the  Message.  Then  he  said, 
Since  I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  to  any,  to  what  purpose 
He  makes  no  should  I  make  a  Will?  As  for  my  feeble  Mind, 
that  I  will  leave  behind  me,  for  that  I  have  no 
need  of  that  in  the  place  whither  I  go.  Nor  is  it  worth 
bestowing  upon  the  poorest  Pilgrim.  Wherefore  when  I  am 
gone  I  desire  that  you,  Mr.  Valiant,  would  bury  it  in  a  Dung- 
hill. This  done,  and  the  Day  being  come,  in  which  he  was 
to  depart,  he  entered  the  River  as  the  rest.  His  last  Words 
His  last  Words,  were,  Hold  out  Faith  and  Patience.  So  he  went 
over  to  the  other  Side. 


THE   PILGRIMS   DEPART  367 

When  Days  had  many  of  them  passed  away,  Mr.  Dispon- 
dency was  sent  for.  For  a  Post  was  come  and 

&  Mr.  Dispon- 

bronght  this  Message  to  him.     Trembling  Man,     fancy's 
these  are  to  summon  thee  to  be  ready  with  thy 
King,  by  the  next  Lord's  Day,  to  shout  for  Joy  for   thy 
Deliverance  from  all  thy  Doublings. 

And  said  the  Messenger,  That  my  Message  is  true,  take 
this  for  a  Proof.  So  he  gave  him  The  Grasshopper  to  be 
a  Burthen  unto  him.  Now  Mr.  Dispondency  s  Daughter, 
whose  Name  was  Much-afraid,  said,  when  she  His  Daughter 
heard  what  was  done,  that  she  would  go  with  9°es  to°- 
her  Father.  Then  Mr.  Dispondency  said  to  his  Friends, 
Myself  and  my  Daughter,  you  know  what  we  have  been, 
and  how  troublesomely  we  have  behaved  ourselves  in  every 
Company.  My  will  and  my  Daughter's  is,  That  His  Will 
our  Disponds  and  slavish  Fears,  be  by  no  man  ever  received, 
from  the  day  of  our  Departure,  for  ever.  For  I  know  that 
after  my  Death  they  will  offer  themselves  to  others.  For,  to 
be  plain  with  you,  they  are  Ghosts,  the  which  we  entertained 
when  we  first  began  to  be  Pilgrims,  and  could  never  shake 
them  off  after.  And  they  will  walk  about  and  seek  Enter- 
tainment of  the  Pilgrims ;  but  for  our  Sakes  shut  ye  the 
Doors  upon  them. 

When  the  time  was  come  for  them  to  depart,  they  went 
to  the  Brink  of  the  River.  The  last  Words  of  His  last  Words. 
Mr.  Dispondency,  were,  Farewell  Night,  Welcome  Day.  His 
Daughter  went  thorow  the  River  singing,  but  none  could 
understand  what  she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass,  awhile  after,  that  there  was  a  Post 
in    the  Town    that   enquired  for   Mr.  Honest.     Mr.  Honest 
So  he  came  to  his  House  where  he  was,  and     Summoned. 
delivered  to   his   Hand  these  Lines,   Thou  art   Commanded 
to  be  ready  against  this  Day  seven  Night,  to  present  thyself 
before  thy  Lord,  at  his  Father's  House.     And  for  a  Token 


368  THE    PILGRIMS   PROGRESS 

that  my  Message  is  true,  All  thy  Daughters  of  Musick  shall 
be  brought  low.  Then  Mr.  Honest  called  for  his  Friends,  and 
He  makes  no  said  unto  them,  I  Die,  but  shall  make  no  Will. 
Wiu-  As  for  my  Honesty,  it  shall  go  with  me ;  let 

him  that  comes  after  be  told  of  this.  When  the  Day  that 
he  was  to  be  gone  was  come,  he  addressed  himself  to  go  over 
the  River.  Now  the  River  at  that  time  overflowed  the  Banks 
Good-con-  in  some  places.  But  Mr.  Honest  in  his  Life 

^r^Honesi*  time  had  spoken  to  one  Good-conscience  to  meet 
over  the  River.  him  there,  the  which  he  also  did,  and  lent  him 
his  Hand,  and  so  helped  him  over.  The  last  Words  of 
Mr.  Honest  were,  Grace  Reigns.  So  he  left  the  World. 

After  this,  it  was  noised  abroad  that  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth 
Mr.  Valiant  was  taken  with  a  Summons,  by  the  same  Post 
Summoned.  as  t^e  other,  and  had  this  for  a  Token  that  the 
Summons  was  true,  That  his  Pitcher  was  broken  at  the 
Fountain.  When  he  understood  it,  he  called  for  his  Friends, 
and  told  them  of  it.  Then  said  he,  I  am  going  to  my 
Fathers,  and  tho1  with  great  Difficulty  I  am  got  hither,  yet 
now  I  do  not  repent  me  of  all  the  Trouble  I  have  been 
His  will.  at  to  arrive  where  I  am.  My  Sword,  I  give 

to  him  that  shall  succeed  me  in  my  Pilgrimage,  and  my 
Courage  and  Skill,  to  him  that  can  get  it.  My  Marks 
and  Scars  I  carry  with  me,  to  be  a  Witness  for  me,  that 
I  have  fought  his  Battles  who  now  will  be  my  Re  warder. 
When  the  Day  that  he  must  go  hence,  was  come,  many 
accompanied  him  to  the  River  side,  into  which,  as  he  went, 
His  last  Words,  he  said,  Death,  where  is  thy  Sting  ?  And  as 
he  went  down  deeper,  he  said,  Grave,  where  is  thy  Victory  ? 
So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  Trumpets  sounded  for  him  on 
the  other  side. 

Then  there  came  forth  a  Summons  for  Mr,  Stand-fast, 


MR.    STAND-FAST   SUMMONED  369 

(This  Mr.  Stand-fast,  was  he  that  the  rest  of  the  Pilgrims 
found  upon  his  Knees  in  the  enchanted  Ground.)     MT.  stand-fast 
For    the    Post   brought    it    him    open    in    his     *>  Summoned. 
Hands.     The  Contents  whereof  were,  That  he  must  prepare 
for  a  Change  of  Life,  for  his  Master  was  not  willing  that 
he  should  be  so  far  from  him  any  longer.    At  this  Mr.  Stand- 
fast was  put  into  a  Muse.     Nay,  said  the  Messenger,  you 
need  not  doubt   of  the  Truth  of  my  Message,  for  here  is 
a  Token  of  the  Truth  thereof,  Thy  Wheel  is  broken  at  the 
Cistern.    Then  he  called  to  him  Mr.  Great-heart     He  callafor 
who  was  their  Guide,  and  said  unto  him,  Sir,     Mr.  Great- 


Altho'  it  was  not  my  hap  to  be  much  in  your 
good  Company  in  the  Days  of  my  Pilgrimage,  His  speech  to 
yet  since  the  time  I  knew  you,  you  have  been  him' 
profitable  to  me.  When  I  came  from  home,  I  left  behind 
me  a  Wife,  and  five  small  Children.  Let  me  entreat  you, 
at  your  Return,  (for  I  know  that  you  will  go,  and  return 
to  your  Master's  House,  in  Hopes  that  you  may  yet  be 
a  Conductor  to  more  of  the  Holy  Pilgrims,)  that,  you  send 
to  my  Family,  and  let  them  be  acquainted  with  all  that 
hath  and  shall  happen  unto  me.  Tell  them-  jjis  Errand  to 
moreover,  of  my  happy  Arrival  to  this  Place,.  liis  Famtly- 
and  of  the  present  late  blessed  Condition  that  I  am  in.  Tell 
them  also  of  Christian  and  Christiana  his  Wife,  and  how  She 
and  her  Children  came  after  her  Husband.  Tell  them  also  of 
what  a  happy  End  she  made,  and  whither  she  is  gone.  I  have 
little  or  nothing  to  send  to  my  Family,  except  it  be  Prayers 
and  Tears  for  them.  Of  which  it  will  suffice,  if  thou 
acquaint  them,  if  peradventure  they  may  prevail.  When 
Mr.  Stand-fast  had  thus  set  things  in  order,  and  the  time 
being  come  for  him  to  haste  him  away,  he  also  went  down 
to  the  River.  Now  there  was  a  great  Calm  at  that  time 
in  the  River,  wherefore  Mr.  Stand-fast,  when  he  was 
about  half  way  in,  he  stood  a  while  and  talked  to  his 


370  THE    PILGRIMS    PROGRESS 

Companions    that    had    waited    upon    him    thither.      And 
he  said, 

This  River  has  been  a  Terror  to  many,  yea  the  thoughts 
His  last  Words,  of  it  also  have  often  frighted  me.  But  now 
methinks  I  stand  easy,  my  Foot  is  fixed  upon  that  upon  which 
the  Feet  of  the  Priests  that  bare  the  Ark  of  the  Covenant 
stood  while  Israel  went  over  this  Jordan.  The  Waters  indeed 
are  to  the  Palate  bitter,  and  to  the  Stomach  cold,  yet  the 
thoughts  of  what  I  am  going  to,  and  of  the  Conduct  that 
waits  for  me  on  the  other  side,  doth  lie  as  a  glowing  Coal 
at  my  Heart. 

I  see  myself  now  at  the  end  of  my  Journey,  my  toilsome 
Days  are  ended.  I  am  going  now  to  see  that  Head  that  was 
Crowned  with  Thorns,  and  that  Face  that  was  spit  upon, 
for  me. 

I  have  formerly  lived  by  Hear-say,  and  Faith,  but  now 
I  go  where  I  shall  live  by  sight,  and  shall  be  with  him,  in 
whose  Company  I  delight  myself. 

I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken  of,  and  wherever 
I  have  seen  the  print  of  his  Shoe  in  the  Earth,  there  I  have 
coveted  to  set  my  Foot  too. 

V 

His  Name  has  been  to  me  as  a  Civet-Box,  yea,  sweeter 
than  all  Perfumes.  His  Voice  to  me  has  been  most  sweet, 
and  his  Countenance,  I  have  more  desired  than  they  that 
have  most  desired  the  Light  of  the  Sun.  His  Word  I  did 
use  to  gather  for  my  Food,  and  for  Antidotes  against  my 
Paintings,  He  has  held  me,  and  I  have  kept  me  from  mine 
Iniquities.  Yea,  my  Steps  hath  he  strengthened  in  his  Way. 

Now  while  he  was  thus  in  Discourse,  his  Countenance 
changed,  his  strong  man  bowed  under  him,  and  after  he  had 
said,  Take  me,  for  I  come  unto  thee,  he  ceased  to  be  seen 
of  them. 

But  Glorious  it  was,  to  see  how  the  open  Region  was  filled 


LAST   WORDS  371 

with  Horses  and  Chariots,  with  Trumpeters  and  Pipers,  with 
Singers  and  Players  on  stringed  Instruments,  to  welcome  the 
Pilgrims  as  they  went  up,  and  followed  one  another  in  at  the 
beautiful  Gate  of  the  City. 

As  for  Christians  Children,  the  four  Boys  that  Christiana 
brought  with  her,  with  their  Wives  and  Children,  I  did  not 
stay  where  I  was  till  they  were  gone  over.  Also  since  I  came 
away,  I  heard  one  say,  that  they  were  yet  alive,  and  so  would 
be  for  the  Increase  of  the  Church  in  that  Place  where  they 
were  for  a  time. 

Shall  it  be  my  Lot  to  go  that  way  again  I  may  give  those 
that  desire  it  an  Account  of  what  I  here  am  silent  about ; 
mean  time  I  bid  my  Reader  A dieu. 


FINIS. 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Adam  the  first,  of  the  Town  of 
Deceit,  87,  322. 

All  Prayer,  67. 

Anchor,  The  golden,  at  the 
Palace  Beautiful,  278. 

Any-thing,  Mr.,  of  the  Town  of 
Fair-speech,  123. 

Apollyon,  Christian's  battle 
with,  72  ;  and  the  monument 
thereof,  282 ;  described  as 
part-founder  of  Vanity-Fair, 

109. 

Apostacy,  The  Town  of,  153. 
Apple,    Eve's,    at    the     Palace 

Beautiful,  277. 
Apples,  A  dish  of,  311. 
Arbour  on  the   hill   Difficulty, 

Christian  at,  54  ;    Christiana 

at,  256. 
Arbours     on     the      Inchanted 

Ground,  354,  355. 
Armory  in  the  Palace  Beautiful, 

The;  67. 
Arrogancy,  Faithful's  relation, 

90. 

Assault  lane,  317. 
Atheist,  163. 

Bath  Sanctification,  The,  246. 
Bats-eyes,  Mrs.,  of  the  City  of 

Destruction,  220. 
Beautiful,  The  Palace,  Christian 

thereat,    58-68  ;     Christiana 

thereat,     260-79  ;      Fearing 

thereat,  299. 
Beelzebub  described  as  captain 


of  Apollyon,  75  ;  as  part- 
founder  of  Vanity-Fair,  109; 
as  prince  of  the  Town  of 
Vanity,!  10;  The  Castle  of,  33; 
230;  the  garden  of,  23 1,273. 

Beulah,The  Country  of,  entered 
by  Christian  and  Hopeful, 
1 83  ;  reached  by  Christiana 
and  her  train,  36 1. 

Blind-man,  Mr.,  foreman  of 
the  jury  at  Faithful's  trial, 
118. 

Bloody  -  man,  or  Grim,  The 
Giant,  259- 

Bond-woman,  The,  30. 

Bottle  of  Spirits,  Christiana's, 
257,  258. 

Bottle  of  Wine,  A,  311. 

Bountiful,  Sister  to  Mercy,  272. 

Brisk,  Mr.,  sweet -heart  of 
Mercy,  270. 

Britain  Row  in  Vanity- Fair,  1 10. 

Broad -way-gate,  1 53. 

Bubble,  Madame,  temptress  of 
Mr.  Stand-fast,  359- 

Butcher,  The,  and  Sheep  at 
the  Interpreter's  House,  240. 

Butter  and  Honey,  A  dish  of, 
311. 

By-ends,  Mr.,  of  the  town  of 
Fair-speech,  joins  Christian 
and  Hopeful,  122  ;  but  parts 
from  them,  125  ;  is  finally 
silenced,  1 30  ;  his  character, 
323  ;  and  his  ill-end,  3:>2. 

By-ends,  The  wife  of,  123,  323. 


GENERAL   INDEX 


373 


By- Path-Meadow,  Christian  and 
Hopeful  attracted  to,  138; 
reached  by  Christiana,  334. 

By-way  to  Hell  on  the  Delect- 
able Mountains,  1 50  ;  shown 
to  Mercy,  342. 

Candle,  Of  the,  276. 

Carnal -delight,  Lord,  of  the 
Town  of  Vanity,  1 16. 

Carnal  -  Policy,  The  Town  of, 
21. 

Caution,  Mount,  149. 

Celestial  City,  The,  seen  through 
the  shepherds'  perspective 
glass,  1 50 ;  and  from  the 
Land  of  Beulah,  184;  entered 
by  Christian  and  Hopeful, 
1 94  ;  and  by  Christiana  and 
her  companions,  365-7 1 . 

Charity,  a  damsel  at  the  Palace 
Beautiful,  59,  267. 

Charity,  Mount,  342. 

Christian,  formerly  named 
Graceless,  in  distress,  1 1  ;  is 
guided  by  Evangelist,  13 ; 
flees  the  City  of  Destruction, 
1 3  ;  and  is  accompanied  by 
Pliable,  1 6  ;  he  falls  into  the 
Slough  of  Dispond  and  is  de- 
serted by  his  comrade,  1 8 ;  but 
is  lifted  out  by  Help,  19  5  he 
meets  Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman, 
21  ;  and  by  his  advice  seeks 
Mr.  Legality,  23  ;  he  is  found 
by  Evangelist  under  Mount 
Sinai,  27  ;  and  told  of  the 
true  character  of  Mr.  Worldly- 
Wiseman  and  his  friends,  29  ; 
he  is  admitted  by  Good-will 
at  the  Wicket  Gate,  33 ;  he 
comes  to  the  House  of  the 


Interpreter,  36 ;  and  is  shown 
its  excellent  things,  36-46  ; 
he  loses  his  burden  at  the 
Cross  and  receives  a  roll  from 
the  Shining  Ones,  46  ;  he  is 
accompanied  by  Formalist 
and  Hypocrisy  to  the  Hill 
Difficulty,  49-53;  meets  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous,  54 ;  he 
misses  his  roll,  55  ;  but  finds 
it  again,  56  ;  passes  the  lions 
that  guard  the  Palace  Beauti- 
ful, 57 ;  talks  with  Piety,  Pru- 
dence and  Charity,  60-65  ; 
he  is  shown  the  rarities  of 
the  Palace,  67 ;  he  enters 
the  Valley  of  Humiliation, 
69  ;  encounters  and  van- 
quishes Apollyon,  69-76  ; 
walks  through  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death,  76-82  ; 
overtakes  Faithful,  84  ;  and 
hears  the  story  of  his  ad- 
ventures, 85-93  ;  the  two 
are  accompanied  by  Talka- 
tive, 93  ;  who  flings  away, 
103  ;  Evangelist  warns  the 
pilgrims  of  what  is  in  store 
for  them  in  Vanity  Fair,  1 05, 
1 06;  they  enter  the  Fair,  111; 
they  are  put  in  a  cage,  112; 
and  placed  on  trial,  114; 
Faithful  is  condemned  and 
executed,  121;  Christian  goes 
forth  with  Hopeful,  1 22 ;  they 
overtake  By-ends,  1 22  ;  but 
forsake  him,  1 25  ;  they  come 
to  Lucre  Hill  and  are  tempt- 
ed of  Demas,  1 30  ;  they  sleep 
in  a  pleasant  meadow,  137; 
they  go  into  the  By-path,  138; 
and  are  in  danger  of  drown- 


374 


GENERAL   INDEX 


ing,  139  5  imprisoned  by 
Giant  Despair  in  Doubting 
Castle,  140;  they  escape, 
146  ;  they  come  to  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  1 46  ; 
and  talk  with  the  Shepherds, 
147;  they  encounter  Ignor- 
ance, 151  ;  they  are  taken 
in  a  net  by  Flatterer,  l6l; 
but  rescued  by  a  Shining  One, 
162;  who  whips  them,  162; 
they  argue  with  Atheist,  1 63 ; 
come  to  the  Enchanted 
Ground,  1 65 ;  and  strengthen 
each  other  with  discourse, 
1 65  ;  Ignorance  is  met  with 
again,  183  ;  the  land  of 
Beulah  is  reached  and  the 
pilgrims  view  the  Celestial 
City,  184  ;  Christian's  conflict 
at  the  hour  of  death,  1 89  ; 
the  pilgrims  are  received  by 
angels,  192;  and  enter  the 
city  through  the  Gate,  193; 
Christian's  blessed  state, 
208,  209. 

Christiana,  wife  of  Christian, 
resolves  to  follow  her  hus- 
band, 214;  is  reasoned  with 
by  Mrs.  Timorous,  217;  but 
starts  on  pilgrimage  with  her 
sons,  accompanied  by  Mercy, 
221  ;  they  come  to  the 
Slough  of  Dispond,  223  ;  are 
admitted  at  the  Gate,  225  ; 
the  women  are  rescued  from 
the  Ill-favoured  ones  by  the 
Reliever,  233  ;  welcomed  at 
the  Interpreter's  House,  237  ; 
they  are  shown  the  significant 
rooms,  238—42  ;  (Treat-heart 
becomes  the  conductor  of 


the  party,  247  ;  the  Hill 
Difficulty  is  reached,  254 ; 
Christiana  forgets  her  bottle 
of  spirits,  257  ;  Giant  Grim 
is  overcome  and  the  lions  are 
passed,260;  the  Pilgrims  come 
to  the  Palace  Beautiful,  262  ; 
and  sojourn  there  awhile,  264- 
80  ;  the  boys  are  catechised, 
267-70  ;  Mercy  has  a  sweet- 
heart, 270;  Mr.  Skill  is  called 
in  to  attend  sick  Matthew, 
272  ;  profitable  questions, 
275,  276 ;  the  journey  is  re- 
sumed, 280  ;  through  the 
Valley  of  Humiliation,  281- 
86  ;  and  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  * 286-92  ; 
Giant  Maul  is  slain,  292  ;  Old 
Honest  is  discovered  asleep, 
293  ;  Great  -  heart  tells  of 
Fearing's  troublesome  pil- 
grimage, 296-303  ;  Honest 
tells  of  Selfwill,  303-306;  the 
party  puts  up  at  the  inn  of 
Gains,  307  ;  their  supper 
party,  310-13;  Slay-good  is 
vanquished,  31 6  ;  Feeble- 
mind  and  Ready-to-halt  join 
the  train,  321  ;  all  come  to 
the  Town  of  Vanity,  and 

*    * 

lodge  with  Mnason,  a  Cy- 
prusian,  323 ;  who  invites 
the  good  people  of  the  place 
to  meet  his  visitors,  325  ;  an 
expedition  against  a  monster, 
328 ;  the  pilgrimage  is  re- 
sumed, 332  ;  at  the  River  of 
Life,  333;  Giant  Despair  and 
his  castle  are  destroyed,  335; 
Dispondency  and  his  daugh- 
ter Much-afraid,  who  were 


GENERAL   INDEX 


375 


prisoners,  join  the  pilgrims, 
336  ;  and  all  come  to  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  339  ; 
Valiant  -  for  -  Truth  is  met 
with,  346;  and  he  recounts 
his  stumbling-blocks,  346-53 ; 
the  Enchanted  Ground  is 
reached,  353  ;  Heedless  and 
Too-bold  found  asleep  in  an 
arbour,  355  ;  Stand-fast  dis- 
covered on  his  knees,  357  ; 
tells  of  his  temptations,  358- 
6l  ;  the  pilgrims  come  at 
last  to  the  land  of  Beulah, 
36l  ;  a  messenger  of  Death 
comes  to  Christiana,  362 ; 
who  utters  her  farewells,  363- 
65  ;  and  crossing  the  River 
enters  the  Celestial  City, 
365  ;  followed  by  the  elder 
pilgrims  in  their  turn,  365— 
70. 

Civility,  son  of  Legality,  24,  30. 

Clear,  The  Hill,  150. 

Clouds,  Of  the,  275. 

Cock,  Of  the,  276. 

Conceit,  The  Country  of,  151. 

Contrite,  Mr.,  a  good  person  in 
the  Town  of  Vanity,  325-32. 

Coveting,  The  County  of,  125. 

Cross,  The,  at  which  Christian's 
burden  is  loosed,  46,  248, 
251  ;  Fearing  cheered  there- 
by, 299;  Turnaway's  apostacy 
thereat,  345. 

Crow,  The,  and  the  Turtle- 
dove, 157. 

Cruelty,  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faith- 
ful's trial,  121. 

Danger,  The  Way  to,  53,  255. 
Dare-not-lie,  Mr.,  a  good  person 


in  the  Town  of  Vanity,  325- 
31. 

Dark-land,  348. 

Dead-man's-lane,  153. 

Death,  The  Messenger  of,  362. 

Death,  The  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of,  Christian  there- 
in, 76-82  ;  Faithful  therein, 
93  ;  Christiana  therein,  286- 
92  ;  Fearing  therein,  300. 

Deceit,  The  Town  of,  87. 

Delectable  Mountains,  The, 
seen  by  Christian,  67;  reached 
by  Christian  and  'Hopeful, 
1 46 ;  and  by  Christiana  and 
her  train,  339. 

Demas  at  the  Hill  Lucre,  131, 
332,  361. 

Desire  of  Vain-glory,  Lord,  of 
the  Town  of  Vanity,  1 1 6. 

Despair,  Giant,  captures  Chris- 
tian and  Hopeful,  1 40 ;  but 
they  escape,  1 46  ;  he  is  over- 
come by  Great-heart  and  his 
allies,  335. 

Despair,  The  Iron  Cage  of,  43, 
238. 

Destruction,  The  City  of,  14, 
85,  207. 

Destruction,  The  Way  to,  53. 

Difficulty,  The  Hill,  Christian 
at,  52 ;  Faithful  at,  87  ; 
Christiana  at,  254  ;  Fearing 
at,  299;  Feeble-mind  at, 
317. 

Diffidence,  Mrs.,  wife  of  Giant 
Despair,  141  ;  slain  by 
Honest,  335. 

Discontent  assaults  Faithful, 
90,  322. 

Discretion,  a  damsel  at  the 
Palace  Beautiful,  59. 


376 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Dispond,  The  Slough  of, 
Christian  and  Pliable  there- 
at, 18  ;  Christiana  there- 
at, 223 ;  Fearing  thereat, 

297. 

Dispondency,  Mr.,  captive  at 
Doubting  Castle,  joins  Chris- 
tiana's party,  336 ;  Christiana's 
last  words  to,  364  ;  his  death, 

367. 

Dog,  The  Devil  as  a  barking, 
225,  229- 

Doubting-Castle,  Christian  and 
Hopeful  imprisoned  there- 
in, 140-6;  demolished  by 
Great  -  heart  and  others, 
336. 

Dreamer,  The,  in  the  Inter- 
preter's House,  44,  238. 

Dull,  a  woman  dissuaded  from 
pilgrimage,  254. 

Dusty  Parlour  in  the  Inter- 
preter's House,  37. 

Ease,  The  Plain  of,  1 30. 

Emmanuel's  Land.  See  De- 
lectable Mountains. 

Enchanted  Ground,  The,  Chris- 
tian and  Hopeful  reach,  165; 
Christiana  and  her  com- 
panions come  to,  353. 

Enmity,  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faith- 
ful's trial,  1 1  8. 

Envy  testifies  against  Faithful 
at  his  trial,  115. 

Error,  The  Hill,  148. 

Evangelist  first  meets  Christian, 
1 3  ;  comes  again  to  him,  27 ; 
exposes  Mr.  Worldly-Wise- 
man, 29  ;  and  sets  Christian 
on  the  right  path,  31  ;  pro- 
phesies the  troubles  in  store 


for  him  and  Faithful  at  Vanity- 
Fair,  106,  322. 

Experience,  a  shepherd  on  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  148, 
339-344. 

Facing-bothways,  Mr.,  of  the 
Town  of  Fair-speech,  123. 

Faining,  Lady,  mother  of  Mr. 
By-ends'  wife,  1 23. 

Faint-heart,  one  of  the  robbers 
of  Little-faith,  1  53. 

Fair-speech,  Lord,  of  the  town 
of  that  name,  1 23. 

Fair-speech,  The  Town  of,  1 23. 

Faithful,  first  mentioned,  68  ; 
is  overtaken  by  Christian, 
84;  he  relates  his  adventures, 
85-93 ;  has  plain  dealings 
with  Talkative,  who  flings 
away  from  him,  103 ;  is  placed 
on  trial  at  Vanity-Fair,  114; 
and  is  condemned  and  exe- 
cuted, 121  ;  his  advice  to 
Hopeful,  169;  his  example, 

QQQ 

UAtAt* 

Fearing,  Mr.,  uncle  of 
Mr.  Feeble-mind,  296 ;  his 
troublesome  pilgrimage,  296- 
301. 

Feeble-mind,  Mr.,  of  the  Town 
of  Uncertain,  delivered  from 
Slay-good,  31 6;  his  story, 
316-1 8 ;  he  joins  Christiana's 
party,  320  ;  Christiana's  last 
words  to,  364;  his  death. 
366. 

Field  of  Corn,  The,  at  the  In- 
terpreter's House,  241. 

Filth,  Mrs.,  friend  of  Madame 
Wanton,  221. 

Fire,  Of  the,  27/"> 


GENERAL  INDEX 


377 


Fire  of  Grace,  The,  in  the  Inter- 
preter's House,  40. 

Flatterer,  a  false  Apostle,  l6l. 

Fool  and  Want-wit  washing  an 
Ethiopian,  342. 

Forgetful -Green  in  the  Valley 
of  Humiliation,  284. 

Formalist,  or  Formality,  of 
the  Land  of  Vain-glory,  50, 
255. 

French  Row  in  Vanity-Fair,  110. 

Gains,  the  disciple  and  inn- 
keeper, 307- 

Garden  of  Flowers,  The,  at  the 
Interpreter's  House,  241. 

Garden,  The  Devil's,  231,  273. 

Gardener,  The  King's,  184. 

Gate,  The  Wicket,  first  men- 
tioned, 1 3  ;  opened  to  Chris- 
tian, 33 ;  reached  by  Chris- 
tiana and  her  train,  224 ; 
Fearing' s  behaviour  thereat, 
^297. 

GermanRowinVanity-Fair,!  1 0. 

Godly-man,  on  Mount  Inno- 
cent, 341,  342. 

Good-confidence,  The  City  of, 
154. 

Good-conscience  helps  Mr. 
Honest  over  the  river,  368. 

Good-will,  the  Keeper  at  the 
Gate.  See  Gate. 

Grace,  daughter  of  Mnason, 
325,  married  to  Samuel,  328. 

Graceless,  Christian's  name  be- 
fore conversion,  58. 

Graceless,  The  Town  of,  180. 

Great-grace,  the  King's  Cham- 
pion, 154,  158,  341. 

Great-heart  becomes  the  con- 
ductor of  Christiana's  party, 


247  ;  slays  the  Giant  Grim 
or  Bloody-man,  260  ;  leaves 
his  charges  at  the  Palace 
Beautiful,  263  ;  returns  with 
tokens  from  his  Lord,  279 ; 
slays  Giant  Maul,  292  ;  also 
Giant  Slay-good,  31 6  ;  is  the 
death  of  Giant  Despair  whose 
castle  is  demolished,  335  ; 
and  finally  brings  his  charges 
to  the  river-side,  36l. 

Grim,  or  Bloody-man,  The 
Giant,  259- 

Gripe-man,  Mr., a  schoolmaster, 
125. 

Guilt,  one  of  the  robbers  of 
Little-faith,  153. 

Hate-good,  Lord,  judge  at 
Faithful's  trial,  114. 

Hate-light,  Mr.,  juryman  at 
Faithful's  trial,  1 1 8. 

Having  Greedy,  Sir,  of  the 
Town  of  Vanity,  1 1 6. 

Heady  j  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faith- 
ful's trial,  1 1 8. 

Hearts-ease,  the  Herb,  283. 

Heave-shoulder,  311. 

Heedless  asleep  in  the  Arbourin 
the  Enchanted  Ground,  355. 

Heedless  slain  in  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation,  290. 

Hell,  By-way  to,  on  the  Delect- 
able Mountains,  150,  342. 

Help  lifts  Christian  out  of  the 
Slough  of  Dispond,  20. 

Hen  and  Chickens  in  the  Inter- 
preter's House,  240. 

High-mind,  Mr.,  juryman  at 
Faithful's  trial,  il8. 

Hold-the-World,  Mr.,  once 
schoolfellow  of  By-ends,  125. 


378 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Holy-man,  Mr.,  a  good  person 
in  the  Town  of  Vanity,325-3  1  . 

Honest,  Mr.,  of  the  Town  of 
Stupidity,  discovered  asleep, 
293  ;  he  joins  Christiana's 
party,  294?  ;  Christiana's  last 
words  to,  364  ;  his  death,  368. 

Honesty,  The  Town  of,  180. 

Honey  and  Butter,  A  dish  of, 
311. 

Hopeful  quits  Vanity-Fair,  122; 
and  with  Christian  goes  to  the 
Celestial  City.  See  Christian. 

Humble-mind,  a  damsel  in  the 
Palace  Beautiful,  264. 

Humiliation,  The  Valley  of, 
Christian  therein,  68-76  ; 
Faithful  therein,  89-93  ; 
Christiana  therein,  281-86; 
Fearing  therein,  299- 

Hypocrisy,  of  the  land  of  Vain- 
glory, 50,  255. 

Ignorance,  of  the  land  of  Con- 
ceit, meets  Christian  and 
Hopeful,  151  ;  but  is  left 
behind,  152;  he  comes  up 
again,  1  73  ;  is  ferried  over 
the  river  by  Vain-hope,  but 
is  taken  to  Hell,  195. 

Ill-favoured  ones,  The,  dreamt 
of  by  Christiana,  212,  235, 
244  ;  they  assail  the  women, 


Ill-will,    the    hater    of   Godly- 

man,  341,  342. 
Immanuel's     Land.,     68.        See 

Delectable  Mountains. 
Implacable,    Mr.,    juryman     a  I 

Faithful's  trial,  118. 
Inchanted   Ground,   The.     See 

Enchanted. 


Inconsiderate,  a  thief,  assailant 
of  Valiant-for-Truth,  346. 

Inconsiderate,  Mrs.,  of  the  City 
of  Destruction,  220. 

Inkhorn,  The  man  writh  the,  in 
the  Interpreter's  House,  41. 

Innocent,  a  damsel  in  the  In- 
terpreter's House,  236. 

Innocent,  Mount,  341. 

Interpreter,  The  House  of  the, 
Christian  therein,  36-46 ; 
Christiana  therein,  236-48  ; 
Mr.  Fearing  therein,  298. 

Interpreter  welcomes  Christian 
to  his  house,  36  ;  and  shows 
its  excellent  things,  36-46 ; 
receives  and  entertains  Chris- 
tiana and  her  train,  236-48  ; 
encourages  Fearing,  298. 

Italian  Row  in  Vanity-Fair,  110. 

Jacob's  ladder,  277. 

James,    son    of    Christian    and 

Christiana,  catechised,   267  ; 

married  to  Phoebe,  319- 
Joseph,   son  of   Christian    and 

Christiana,  catechised,  268  ; 

married  to  Martha,  328. 

Key  called  Promise,  The,  145. 
Knowledge,  a  Shepherd  on  the 

Delectable    Mountains,    148, 

339-41. 
Know-nothing,     Mrs.,    of    the 

City  of  Destruction,  220. 

Lecherv,  Lord,  of  the  Town  of 

m,     * 

Vanity,  1  1 6. 
Lecherv,  Mr., friend  of  Madame 

Wanton,  221. 
Legality,  Mr.,  of  the  Village  of 

Morality,  23,  30. 


GENERAL   INDEX 


379 


Legion,  part-founder  of  Vanity- 
Fair,  109. 
Light-mind,  Mrs.,  of  the  City 

of  Destruction,  220. 
Linger  -  after  -  Lust     dissuaded 

from  pilgrimage,  253. 
Lions,  The,  at  the  Palace  Beau- 
tiful, 54,  57,  258,  299. 
Little-faith,    of    the   Town   of 

Sincere,  the  story  of,  153. 
Live-loose,    Mr.,    juryman    at 

Faithful's  trial,  118. 
Looking-glass,  The,  desired  by 

Mercy,  343. 
Lot's  wife,  The  Monument  of, 

134,  333. 

Love-gain,  The  Town  of,  125. 
Love-lust,     Mr.,     juryman     at 

Faithful's  trial,  118. 
Love-saint,Mr.,  a  good  person  in 

the  Town  of  Vanity,  325-31. 
Love-the-flesh,  Mrs.,  friend  of 

Madame  Wanton,  221. 
Lucre,  The  Hill,  1 30,  332. 
Lust  of  the  eyes,  daughter  of 

Adam  the  first,  88. 
Lust  of  the  flesh,  daughter  of 

Adam  the  first,  88. 
Luxurious,  Lord,  of  the  Town 

of  Vanity,  1 1 6. 
Lyar,  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faithful's 
'trial,  118. 

Malice,  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faith- 
ful's trial,  1 1  8. 

Martha,  Mnason's  daughter, 
married  to  Joseph,  328. 

Marvel,  Mount,  341. 

Matthew,  son  of  Christian  and 
Christiana,  catechised,  269  ; 
falls  sick,  272 ;  marries 
Mercy,  313,  319. 


Maul,  The  Giant,  290. 

Mercy  visits  Christiana,  217; 
and  goes  on  pilgrimage  with 
her,  221  ;  is  impatient  at  the 
Gate,  226;  has  a  dream,  265; 
is  wooed  by  Mr.  Brisk,  270  ; 
is  married  to  Matthew,  313, 
319;  her  labours  for  the  poor, 
328  ;  she  longs  for  the  look- 
ing-glass, 343. 

Michael  helps  Christian,  76. 

Milk,  A  dish  of,  311. 

Mistrust,  a  pilgrim  frightened 
by  the  lions,  54,  258. 

Mistrust,  one  of  the  robbers  of 
Little-faith,  153. 

Mnason,  Mr.,  a  Cyprusian,  who 
entertains  Christiana's  party 
in  the  Town  of  Vanity,  323. 

*/  •* 

Money-love,  Mr.,  once  school- 
fellow of  By-ends,  125. 

Monster,  The,  from  the  woods 
near  Vanity,  328. 

Morality,  The  Village  of,  23. 

Moses,  assailant  of  Faithful,  89- 

Much-afraid,  daughter  of  Dis- 
pondency,  is  rescued  from 
Doubting-Castle  and  joins 
the  pilgrims,  336;  her  death, 

367. 

Muck-rake,  The  man  with  the, 
in  the  Interpreter's  House, 

238. 

No-good,  Mr.,  juryman  at  Faith- 
ful's trial,  118. 

No-heart  dissuaded  from  pil- 
grimage, 253. 

Not-right,  Mr.,  slain  with  a 
thunder-bolt,  319- 

Nuts,  A  Dish  of,  312. 


380 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Obstinate,  of  the  city  of  De- 
struction, 14. 

Oldman,  Lord,  of  the  town  of 
Vanity,  1 1 6. 

Pagan,  The  Giant,  83. 

Palace  Beautiful,  The,  Christian 
thereat,  56-68 ;  Christiana 
thereat,  262-80 ;  Fearing 
thereat,  299. 

Parlour  in  the  Interpreter's 
House,  The  dusty,  37. 

Passion  at  the  House  of  the 
Interpreter,  39. 

Patience  at  the  House  of  the 
Interpreter,  39. 

Peace, The  Chamber  of,  66,  265. 

Pelican,  Of  the,  276. 

Penitent,  Mr.,  a  good  person 
in  the  town  of  Vanity,  325- 
31. 

Perspective  Glass,  The  Shep- 
herds', 150. 

Phoebe,  Gaius's  daughter,  mar- 
ried to  James,  319- 

Physick,  Of,  274. 

Pickthank  testifies  against 
Faithful  at  his  trial,  1 1 6. 

Picture,  The,  in  the  Interpre- 
ter's House,  36,  238. 

Piety,  a  damsel  at  the  Palace 
Beautiful,  59,  267. 

Pillar  erected  by  Christian,  1 46, 

339. 

Pillar  of  Salt,  The,  132,  333. 

Pills,  The,  administered  to  Mat- 
thew, 273. 

Pliable,  neighbour  of  Christian, 
14;  with  whom  he  starts  on 
pilgrimage,  16;  turns  back 
at  the  Slough  of  Dispond, 
1 8  ;  returns  to  the  City  of 


Destruction,  21  ;  how  he  is 
accounted  of,  86. 

Pope,  The  Giant,  83. 

Pragmatick,  a  thief,  assailant 
of  Valiant-for-Truth,  346. 

Prating-row,  96. 

Prejudice,  hater  of  Godly-man, 
341,  342. 

Presumption,  Sleepy,  49,  253. 

Pride,  Faithful's  relation,  90. 

Pride  of  life,  daughter  of  Adam 
the  first,  88. 

Promise,  The  Key  called, 
145. 

Prospect  for  Pilgrims,  84,  292. 

Prudence,  a  damsel  at  the 
Palace  Beautiful,  59,  267. 

Rainbow,  Of  the,  276. 

Ready-to-halt,  accompanies 
Christiana's  party,  321  ; 
Christiana's  last  message  to, 
364  ;  his  death,  366. 

River  of  Death,  The  ;  Christian 
and  Hopeful  pass  through, 
1 89 ;  Ignorance  is  ferried  over, 
195  ;  Fearing  goes  over,  301 ; 
and  it  is  crossed  by  Chris- 
tiana, 365 ;  Ready-to-halt, 
366  ;  Feeble-mind,  366  ; 
Dispondency,  367 ;  Much- 
afraid,  367  ;  Honest,  367  : 
Valiant-for-Truth,  368  ;  and 
by  Standfast,  369- 

River  of  the  Water  of  Life, The, 
Christian  and  Hopeful  at, 
137  ;  Christiana  and  her  fol- 
lowing at,  333. 

Reliever,  The,  of  the  women 
from  the  Ill-favoured  ones, 
233. 

Riddles,  312-14. 

Robin,    The,    and    the    Spider 


GENERAL   INDEX 


381 


at  the  Interpreter's   House, 
241. 

Sagacity  relates  part  of  the 
story,  208. 

Salvation,  The  Wall  of,  46. 

Samuel,  son  of  Christian  and 
Christiana,  catechised,  269 ; 
married  to  Grace,  328. 

Sanctification,  The  Bath,  246. 

Save-all,  Mr.,  once  schoolfellow 
of  By-ends,  1 25. 

Save-self,  the  perverter  of  Tem- 
porary, 181. 

Say-well,  Talkative's  father,  96. 

Secret  instructs  Christiana,  213. 

Self-conceit,  Faithful's  relation, 
90. 

Selfwill,  Mr.,  The  opinions  of, 
303^305. 

Sepulchre  at  the  Cross,  The, 
46,  251,  299,  345. 

Shame  puts  Faithful  hard  to  it, 
90-92,  322. 

Shepherds,  The,  147,  339-45. 

Shining  One,  The,  with  a  whip, 
162. 

Shining  Ones,  The  three,  46. 

Short-wind  dissuaded  from  pil- 
grimage, 253. 

Silver  mine  at  the  Hill  Lucre, 
130,  332. 

Simple,  Sleepy,  49,  253. 

Sinai,  Mount,  24. 

Sincere,  a  shepherd  on  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  148, 
247-345. 

Sincere,  The  Town  of,  153. 

Sion,  Mount,  33,  50,  163,  191. 

Skill,  Mr.,  an  approved  phy- 
sician, 272. 

Slay-good,  The  giant,  315,  326. 


Sleepy-head  dissuaded  from 
pilgrimage,  253. 

Slothful's  Friend,  The,  an 
arbour  in  the  Enchanted 
Ground,  354. 

Sloth,  Sleepy,  49,  253. 

Slough  of  Dispond,  The,  Chris- 
tian and  Pliable  thereat,  1 8  ; 
Christiana  thereat,  223;  Fear- 
ing thereat,  297. 

Slow-pace  dissuaded  from  pil- 
grimage, 253. 

Smooth-man,  Mr.,  of  the  town 
of  Fair-speech,  123. 

Spanish  Row  in  Vanity-Fair,  110. 

Spider  in  the  Interpreter's 
House,  The,  239. 

Spider,  The,  and  Robin  at  the 
Interpreter's  House,  241. 

Spies,  The  children  of  the,  76. 

Springs,  Of  the,  276. 

Stand-fast,  Mr.,  upon  his  knees, 
357  ;  his  story,  358-61  ;  his 
death,  370. 

Stupidity,  The  Town  of,  294. 

Sun,  Of  the,  275. 

Superstition  testifies  against 
Faithful  at  his  trial,  11 6. 

Take-heed  preserved  in  the 
Valley  of  Humiliation,  290. 

Talkative  accompanies  Chris- 
tian and  Faithful,  93  ;  but  is 
repulsed  by  the  latter,  103, 
322. 

Taste  -  that  -  which  -  is  -  good, 
Gaius's  cook,  308. 

Tell-true,  Mr.,  the  converter  of 
Valiant-for-Truth,  348. 

Temporary,  of  Graceless,  1 80. 

Time-server,  Lord,  of  the  town 
of  Fair-speech,  123. 


382 


GENERAL   INDEX 


Timorous,  a  pilgrim  frightened 
by  the  lions,  54, 2 17,  244,258. 

Timorous,  Mrs.,  217,  244. 

Too-bold  asleep  in  the  Arbour 
in  the  Enchanted  Ground, 
355. 

Tree,  The  rotten,  in  the  Inter- 
preter's Garden,  243. 

Turn-about,  Lord,  of  the  town 
of  Fair-speech,  123. 

Turn-away,    of    the    Town    of 

v   * 

Apostacy,  153,  345. 
Turn-back,    of    the    Town    of 

Graceless,  180. 
Turtle-dove,  The, and  the  Crow, 

157. 
Two-tongues,    Mr.,    parson    at 

Fair-speech,  123. 

Uncertain,  The  Town  of,  317- 

Vain  confidence,  The  fate  of, 
138. 

Vain-glory,  The  land  of,  50. 

Vain-hope,  the  Ferryman,  195. 

Valiant-for-Truth,  Mr.,of  Dark- 
land,  beset  with  thieves,  346; 
joins  Christiana's  party,  348  ; 
the  story  of  his  adventures, 
348-53 ;  Christiana's  last 
words  to,  363;  his  death, 
368. 

Valiant  Man,  The,  in  the  Inter- 
preter's House,  41,  238. 

Valley  of  Humiliation,,  The, 
Christian  therein,  69-76  ; 
Faithful  therein,  90-93 ; 
Christiana  therein,  281-86; 
Fearing  therein,  299- 


Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 

The,  Christian   therein,  76- 

82;     Faithful    therein,    93; 

Christiana  therein,   286-92; 

Fearing  therein,  300. 
Vanity-Fair,       Christian       and 

Faithful  at,  1 1 1-22;  Fearing 

at,  300. 
Vanity,  The  town  of,  Christiana 

and  her  friends  stay  therein, 

323-32. 

Wanton,  Madame,  temptress  of 
Faithful,  87,  221,  322, 

Want-wit  and  Fool  washing  an 
Ethiopian,  342. 

Watchful,  the  porter  at  the 
Palace  Beautiful,  57,  260. 

Watchful,  a  shepherd  on  the 
Delectable  Mountains,  148, 
339-45. 

Wave-Breast,  311. 

Wicket-Gate,  first  mentioned, 
1 3  ;  Christian  thereat,  33  ; 
opened  to  Christiana  and  her 
train.  225  ;  Fearing's  be- 
haviour thereat,  297. 

Wild-head,  a  thief,  assailant  of 
Valiant-for-Truth,  346. 

Worldly-glory,  Faithful's  rela- 
tion/ 90. 

Worldly-Wiseman,  Mr.,  of  the 
town  of  Carnal  Policy,  meets 
Christian,  and  snares  him 
with  ill  counsel,  21  ;  his 
deceit  is  discovered  by  Evan- 
gelist, 29- 

Zion,  Mount,  33,  50,  163,  Ipl. 


Oxford  :  HORACE  HART,  Printer  to  the  University 


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Renewed  boofe 


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