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b'o  they  came  to  the  place  where  Christian's  burden  fell 
ofl  his  back,  and  tumbled  into  a  sepulchre."— p  312. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S  PROGEESS 


FROM  THIS  WORLD 


THAT  WHICH  IS  TO  COME; 


DELIVERED 


UNDER  THE   SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 


BY  JOHN  BUNYAN. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

AMERICAN  SUNDAY-SCHOOL  UNION, 
NO.  146  CHESTNUT-STREET. 

^.-EW  YORK:  NO.  117  NASSAU  STREET.— BOSTON:  Nd.  9  C(  RNHUX. 
LOUISVILLE  :  NO.  103  FOURTH-STREET. 


^/f3 


33o 

ass 


Great  pains  have  been  taken  in  collating  this  edition  with 
other  copies,  in  order  to  render  it  a  correct  reprint  of  the 
original  work.  The  original  side-notes,  which  ol'ien  :hrow 
much  light  on  the  text,  have  been  preserved. 


This  volame  is  per()etuated  through  the  liberality  of  Rev.  E.  Btrgess, 
Dcdham,  Mass. ;  Nicholas  Brown,  Esq.,  Providence ;  Hon.  Stephen 
V/v  Rensselaer,  Albany  ;  and  Messrs.  James  Roosevelt,  S.  V.  S. 
Wilder,  Joseph  Brewster,  John  Rankin,  William  M.  IIalsted, 
R.  T.  Hai>'Es,  Charles  Starr,  and  Gerard  Hallock,  New  York. 


G>ft 

MAY    2  6  1924 


CONTENTS. 


Author's  Life, 5 

PART  1. 

First  Stage. — Christian's  deplorable  condition — Evan- 
ist  directs  him — Obstinate  and  Pliable — Slough  of  Des- 
^  id — Worldly  Wiseman — Mount  Sinai — conversation 
with  Evangelist, 27 

The  Second  Stage. — The  Gate — conversation  with  Good- 
will— the  Interjireter's  house — Christian  entertained — the 
sights  there  shown  him, 50 

The  Third  Stage. — Loses  his  burden  at  the  Cross — Sim- 
ple, Sloth,  Presumption,  Formalist,  Hypocrisy — hill  Dif- 
ficulty— the  Arbor — misses  his  roll — the  palace  Beautiful 
— ther  Lions — talk  with  Discretion,  Piety,  Prudence  and 
Charity — wonders  shown  to  Christian — he  is  armed,     .        68 

The  Fojirth  Stage. — Valley  of  Humiliation — conflict  with 
ApoUyon — Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death — Giants  Pope 
and  Pagan, 94 

The  Fifth  Stage. — Discourse  with  Faithful — Talkative  and 
Faithful — Talkative's  character, 109 

The  Sixth  Stage. — Evangelist  overtakes  Christian  and 
Faithful — Vanity  Fair — the  Pilgrims  brought  to  trial — 
Faithful's  martyrdom, 137 

The  Seventh  Stage. — Christian  and  Hopeful — By-ends  and 
his  companions — plain  of  Ease — Lucre-hill — Demas — the 
River  of  Life — Vain-Contidence — Giant  Despair — the  pil- 
grim's beaten — the  Dungeon — the  Key  of  Promise,  .     .     154 

The  Eighth  Stage. — The  Delectable  Mountains — enter- 
tained by  the  Shepherds — a  by-way  to  hell,     ....     184 

2'Ae  Ninth  Stage. — Christian  and  Hopeful  meet  Ignorance 
— Turnaway — Little-Faith — the  Flatterer — the  net — chas- 
tised by  a  Shining  One — Atheist — Enchanted  Ground — 
Hopeful's  account  of  his  conversion — discourse  of  Clu'is- 
tian  and  Ignorance, ....     190 


4  CONTENTS 

Pago. 

The  Tenth  S^rtge— Talk  of  Christian  and  Hopeful— Tem- 
porary— the  Backslider — the  land  of  Beulah — Christian 
and  Hopeful  pass  the  River — welcome  to  the  Celestial  City,  227 


TART   II. 

Pilgrimage  of  Christiana  and  Her  Children,       .     261 

'riie  First  Stage. — Christiana  and  Mercy — Slough  of  Des- 
pond— knocking  at  the  Gate — tlie  Dog — talk  between  the 
pilgrims, 27J' 

The  Second  Stage. — The  Devil's  garden — two  ill-favored 
ones  assault  them — the  Reliever — entertainment  at  the 
Interpreter's  house — the  Significant  Rooms — Christiana 
and  Mercy's  experience, 289 

The  Third  Stage. — Accompanied  by  Great-Heart — the 
Cross — justified  by  Christ — Sloth  and  his  companions 
hung — the  hill  Dilliculty — the  Arbor, 311 

The  Fourth  Stage. — The  Lions — Giant  Grim  slain  by 
Great-heart — the  pilgrims  entertained — the  children  cate- 
chised by  Prudence — Mr.  Brisk — Matthew  sick — the  re- 
medy— sights  shown  the  pilgrims, 324 

The  Fifth  Stage. — Valley  of  Humiliation — Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death — Giant  Maul  slain, 351 

The  Sixth  Stage. — Discourse  with  Old  Honest — character 
and  history  of  Mr.  Fearing — I\Ir.  Self-will  and  some  pro- 
fessors— Gaius'  house — conversation — tlie  supper — Old 
Honest  and  Great-Heart's  riddles  and  discourse — Giant 
Slay-good  killed — Mr.  Fecble-mijid's  history — Mr.  Ready- 
to-halt — Vanity  Fair — Mr.  Miuison's  house — cheering  en- 
tertainment and  converse — a  Monster,    .  ....     367 

The  Seventh  Stage. — Hill  Lucre — River  of  Life — Giant 
Despair  killed — The  Delectable  Mountains — entertain- 
ment by  the  Shepherds, ...416 

The  Eighth  Stage. — Valiant-for-tioith's  victory — his  talk 
with  Great-Heart — the  Enchanted  Ground — Heedless  and 
Too-bold — Mr.  Stand-fast — Madam  Bubble's  temptations 
— the  land  of  Beulah — Christiana  summoned — her  part- 
ing addresses — she  passes  the  River — she  is  followed  by 
ileady-to-halt,  Feeble-mind,  Despondency  and  his  daugh- 
ter, Honest,  Valiant  and  Stand-fast, 43] 


THE    LIFE 
■  ov 

REV.   JOHN   BUNYAN. 


The  Rev.  John  Bunyan,  the  celebrated  author  of 
The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  many  other  useful 
works,  was  bora  at  Elstow,  near  Bedford,  England,  in 
the  year  1628. 

His  parents  were  very  poor,  but  gave  him  the  best 
education  in  their  power.  Such,  however,  was  his  ex- 
treme depravity,  that  he  addicted  himself,  even  in  child- 
hood, to  the  basest  practices,  particularly  to  cursing  and 
swearing,  in  which  he  exceeded  the  worst  of  his  wicked 
companions,  and  arrived  at  such  a  sad  pre-eminence  in 
sin,  that  he  became  the  ring-leader  of  the  profane. 

Yet,  amidst  all  these  enormities,  God  left  not  himself 
without  a  witness  in  his  bosom.  He  had  many  severe 
checks  of  conscience,  and  terrifj^Jfig  thoughts  of  hell. 
After  days  spent  in  sin,  his  dreams  were  sometimes-  pe- 
culiarly^ frightful.  The  fears  of  death  and  judgment  in- 
truded into  his  gayest  hours.  A  copious  narrative  of 
these  early  conflicts  and  crimes  is  to  be  found  in  his 
treatise  entitled,  Grace  abounding  to  the  Chief  of  Sin- 
ners. The  Lord  was  also  pleased  to  grant  him  several 
remarkable  deliverances  from  death.  Once  he  fell  into 
the  river  Ouse ;  at  another  time  he  -fell  into  the  sea, 
and  narrowly  escaped  being  drowned.  When  he  was 
seventeen  years  of  age  he  became  a  soldier  ;  and,  at  the 
siege  of  Leicester,  being  called  out  to  stand  sentinel, 
another  desiring  to  take  his  place,  he  consented,  and  his 


6  THE    LIFE    OF  ) 

comrade,  wlio  took  his  place,  was  shot  througli  the  head 
with  a  musket-ball. 

-  But  neither  mercies  nor  judgments  made  any  durable 
impression  on  his  hardened  heart.  He  was  not  only  in- 
sensible of  the  evil  and  danger  of  sin,  but  an  enemy  to 
every  thing  serious.  The  thought  of  religion,  or  even 
the  appearance  of  it  in  others,  was  an  intolerable  burden 
to  him. 

The  first  step  toward  his  reformation  was  his  marriage 
with  a  wpman  whose  parents  were  accounted  rehgious. 
Being  extremely  poor,  she  had  brought  him,  as  her  whole 
portion,  two  books.  The  Practice  of  Piety,  and  The 
Plain  Man's  Pathway  to  Heaven.  In  these  they  some- 
times read  together ;  and  his  wife  often  talked  to  him  of . 
the  godly  life  of  her  father.  By  these  means,  and  espe- 
cially in  consequence  of  hearing  a  sermon  against  Sab- 
bath-breaking, he  fomied  some  resolutions  of  reforma- 
tion, and  of  peifonning  a  few  rehgious  duties,  which  he 
then  thought  would  be  enough  to  carry  him  to  Heaven. 
His  convictions  were  not,  however,  sufficient  to  keep 
him  from  his  beloved  sports,  even  in  the  afternoon  of  that 
Sabbath  on  which  he  had  received  them,  when,  being 
engaged  in  a  game,  a  sentence  was  impressed  on  his 
mind  so  forcibly  that  he  thought  it  like  a  voice  from 
Heaven,  Wilt  thou  leave  thy  sins  and  go  to  Heaven,  or 
have  thy  sins  and  go  to  Hell?  This  excited  dreadful 
consternation  in  his  mind,  which  was  instantly  followed 
by  suggestions  that  he  was  an  enoraious  unparalleled  sin- 
ner— that  it  was  now  too  late  to  seek  after  Heaven — 

and  that  his  transgressions  were  beyond  the  reach  of 
mercy.    Despair  reached  his  mind,  and  he  foniied  this 

desperate  conclusion — that  he  must  be  miserable  if  he 
left  his  sins,  and  miserable  if  he  continued  in  his  sine ; 


HEV.    JOHN    BUNYAN.  / 

and  therefore  he  determined  to  take  his  fill  of  them,  as 
the  only  pleasure  he  was  likely  to  have.  It  may  justly 
be  feared  that  multitudes  perish  by  such  temptations  as 
these.  Their  language  is,  "  There  is  no  hope— but  we 
will  walk  after  our  own  devices,  and  we  will  every  one 
do  the  imagination  of  his  evil  heart." 

Contriving  how  to  gratify  himself  with  sin,  yet  de- 
riving no  satisfaction  from  it,  he  continued  about  a  month 
longer  ;  when  it  pleased  God  to  give  him  another  severe 
check  by  means  of  a  woman,  who,  though  a  notorious 
sinner  herself,  was  so  shocked  at  the  oaths  he  uttered, 
that  she  told  him  *'  he  was  the  most  ungodly  fellow  for 
swearing  that  she  had  ever  seen  in  her  life,  and  that  he 
was  enough  to  spoil  all  the  youth  in  the  town,  if  they 
came  into  his  company."  By  this  reproof,  from  such  a 
person,  he  was  entirely  confounded;  and  from  that  mo- 
ment he  refrained  in  general  from  swearing,  though  be- 
fore he  scarcely  ever  spoke  a  sentence  without  an  oath. 

About  this  time  he  had  several  remarkable  dreams,  in 
which  he  thought  that  the  earth  shook  and  opened  her 
mouth  to  receive  him — that  the  end  of  the  world  and  the 
day  of  judgment  were  arrived.  Once  he  dreamed  that 
he  was  just  dropping  into  the  flames  among  the  damned, 
and  that  a  person  in  white  shining  raiment  suddenly 
plucked  him  as  a  brand  out  of  the  fire.  These  dreams 
made  impressions  on  his  mind  which  were  never  for- 
gotten, and  perhaps  inclined  him,  many  years  after,  to 
publish  the  masterpiece  of  all  his  works,  The  Pilgrim's 
Vrogress,  under  the  similitude  of  a  dream. 

Soon  after,  he  fell  into  the  company  of  a  poor,  serious 
man,  whose  discourses  of  religion  and  of  the  Scriptures 
80  affected  him,  that  he  applied  himself  to  reading  the 
Bible,  especially  the  historical  parts  of  it. 


8  THE    LIFE    Oy 

By  degrees  a  reformation  of  manners  took  place,  which 
became  so  remarkable  that  his  neighbors  were  greatly 
surprised  at  it,  and  often  complimented  him  upon  it.  By 
these  commendations  he  was  greatly  pufTcd  up  wilh 
pride,  and  began  to  think  himself  a  very  good  christian, 
and,  to  use  his  own  words,  "  that  no  man  in  England 
could  ]ilease  God  better  than  he."  But  all  this  was  only 
lopping  off  the  branches  of  sin,  while  the  root  of  an  un- 
regenerated  nature  still  remained.  With  much  ditiicul- 
ty,  and  by  slow  degrees,  he  refrained  from  his  accus- 
tomed diversions  of  dancing  and  ringing  ;  he  rolincpiished 
the  latter  from  the  apprehension  that  one  of  the  bells,  or 
even  the  steeple  might  fall  and  crush  him  to  death.  But 
hitherto  he  remained  ignorant  of  Christ,  and  was  going 
about  to  establish  his  own  riglitcousness.  He  was  still  of 
that  generation  "who  are  pure  in  their  ovm  eyes,  and 
yet  not  washed  from  their  filthiness." 

Not  long  after,  the  providence  of  God  so  ordered  it 
that  he  went  to  work  at  Bedford,  and  happening  to  hear 
some  women,  who  were  sitting  at  a  door,  talk  about  the 
things  of  God,  his  curiosity  induced  him  to  listen  to 
them,  but  he  soon  found  their  conversation  above  his 
reach.  They  were  speaking  of  the  new-birth,  and  the 
work  of  God  in  their  hearts — how  they  were  convinced 
of  their  miserable  state  by  nature — how  God  had  visited 
their  souls  with  his  love  in  Christ  Jesus — with  what  pro- 
mises they  had  been  refreshed,  comforted,  and  supported 
under  affliction  and  temptations.  They  also  talked  of  the 
wretchedness  of  their  own  hearts,  and  of  their  unbelief — 
of  renouncing  their  own  works  and  righteousness,  as  in- 
sufficient to  justify  them  before  God.  All  this  appeared 
to  be  spoken  in  such  spiritual  language,  in  such  a  serious 
manner,  and  with  such  an  air  of  christian  joy  and  cheer 


REV.    JOHN    BUNYAN.  » 

fulness,  that  lie  seemed  like  one  wlio  had  found  a  new 

world. 

This  conversation  was  of  great  service  to  liim.     tie 
now  saw  that  his  case  was  not  so  good  as  he  had  fondly 
imagined;   that  among  all  his  thoughts  of  rehgion,  the 
grand  essential  of  it-tlie  new  BiRTH-had  never  enter- 
ed his  mind-that  he  had  never  derived  comfort  from 
the  promises  of  God-that  he  had   never  known   the 
placrae  of  his  own  heart,  having  never  taken  notice  of 
4iis%ecret  thoughts-and  that  he  was   entirely   unac- 
quainted with  Satan's  temptations,  and  the  way  to  resist 
them.    He  therefore  frequented  the  company  of  those 
persons  to  obtain    information;    his  mind  became    con- 
stantly intent  upon  gaining  spiritual  knowledge,  and  his 
whole  soul  'was  so  fixed  on  eternal  things,  that  it  \vas 
difficult  to  draw  his  mind  from  heaven  to  earth.    He 
now  her^m  to  read  his  Bible  as  it  were  wnth  new  eyes ; 
it  became  inexpressibly  sweet  and  pleasant  to  him,  be- 
cause it  held  forth  a  Savior  whom  he  now  felt  the  want 
of.    Reading,  meditation  and  prayer  to  understand  the 
Scriptures,  were  the  employments  in  which  he  delighted. 
■   Now  the  enemy  of  souls  assaulted  him  with  his  temp- 
tations.   One  of  the  principal  was,  whether  he  was  elect- 
ed or  not?    But  it  pleased  God  to  reheve  him,  by  the 
i  application  of  that  Scripture,  "  Look  at  the  generations 
of  old,  and  see,  did  ever  any  trust  in  God  and  were  con- 
'  founded?"     This  gave  him  much  encouragement,  as  if 
'  it  had  been  said,  "  Begin  at  Genesis,  and  read  to  the 
end  of  the  Revelation,  and  try  if  you  can  find  any  that 
ever  trusted  in  God  and  were  confounded  ;  and  if  none 
that  trusted  in  God  ever  miscarried,  then  your  duty  is  to 
trust  in  God,  and  not  to  concern  yourself  about  election, 
which  is  a  secret  thing." 


]0  THE    LIFE    OF 

Another  temptation  that  violently  assaulted  him  was, 
*'  How  if  the  day  of  grace  should  be'past  and  gone  V 
But  after  many  days  spent  in  bitterness  of  sjnrit,  he 
was  relieved  by  that  blessed  word,  *'  Compel  them  to 
come  in,  that  my  house  may  be  filled  :"  and  "yet  there 
is  room." 

Many  more  were  his  temptations,  of  which  the  reader 
may  find  a  large  account  in  his  Grace  Abounding, 
above  referred  to.  But  the  Lord,  ■vyho  knows  how  to 
deliver  the  godly  out  of  temptation,  was  pleased  to  de- 
liver him  out  of  all  his  spiritual  distresses,  and  to  fill  his 
soul  with  joy  and  peace  in  believing. 

To  this  happy  event,  under  the  blessing  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  the  conversation  he  had  with  experienced  chris- 
tians, and  the  valuable  labors  of  Mr.  Gifibrd,  then  Min- 
ister of  the  Gospel  at  Bedford,  were  chiefly  conducive. 
When  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  Mr.  Bunyan  joined  a 
congregation  of  pious  christians  at  Bedford.  His  natural 
abilities,  eminent  grace,  and  the  remarkable  temptations 
he  had  experienced,  soon  pointed  him  out  as  a  proper 
person  for  the  ministry.  Curiosity  naturally  excited  mul- 
titudes to  attend  his  preaching,  and  he  soon  found  thai 
his  labors  were  not  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 

Such  were  his  diffidence  and  modesty,  that  at  first  he 
thought  it  incredible  that  God  should  speak  to  the  hearts 
of  sinners  by  his  means.  But  he  was  encouraged  by 
many  seals  of  his  ministry.  His  views  of  the  work,  and 
bis  method  in  it,  deserve  notice  and  imitation.  The 
Lord  gave  him  much  compassion  for  perishing  sinners. 
He  studied  with  great  diligence  to  find  out  such  words  as 
might  awaken  the  conscience,  exhibit  Christ  in  all  his 
infinite  fulness,  and  show  the  sinner  that,  except  in  liis 
precious  atonement,  there  is  no  salvation. 


REV.    JOHW    BUNYAN.  11 

"  In  my  preaching,''  says  he,  *'  the  Lord  did  lead  me 
to  begin  where  his  word  begins,  with  sinners ;  to  con- 
demn all  flesh,  and  to  open  and  allege  that  the  curse  of 
God  doth  lay  hold  on  all  men,  as  they  come  into  the 
world,  because  of  sin.  This  part  of  my  work  I  fulfilled 
with  the  terrors  of  the  law  and  guilt  for  my  own  trans- 
gressions lying  heavy  on  my  conscience.  I  went  m3'self 
in  chains,  to  preach  to  them  in  chains ;  and  carried  that 
fire  in  my  own  conscience,  of  which  I  persuaded  them  to 
beware.  I  have  gone  full  of  a  sense  of  guilt  and  terror 
even  to  the  pulpit  door,  and  there  it  hath  been  taken  off, 
and  I  have  been  at  hberty  in  my  mind  until  I  have  done 
my  work,  and  then  immediately  it  has  returned  as  hea- 
vily as  before ;  yet  God  carried  me  on,  and  surely  with 
a  strong  hand,  for  neither  guilt  nor  hell  could  take  me 
off  my  work. 

"  Thus  I  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  years ;  after 
which  the  Lord  came  in  upon  my  soul  with  some  sure 
peace  and  comfort  through  Christ,  giving  me  many  sweet 
discoveries  of  his  blessed  grace.  And  I  did  much  labor 
to  hold  forth  Jesus  Christ  in  all  his  offices,  relations  and 
benefits,  unto  the  world ;  and  did  strive  also  to  discover, 
to  condemn  and  to  remove  those  false  supports  on  which 
the  world  lean,  and  by  depending  on  them,  fall  and 
perish. 

'*  When  I  have  been  preaching,  my  heart  hath  often, 
all  the  time  of  this  and  the  other  exercises,  with  great 
earnestness,  cried  to  God  that  he  would  make  the  word 
effectual  to  salvation;  wherefore  I  did  labor  so  to  speak 
as  that  thereby,  if  possible,  the  sin  and  the  person  guilty 
might  be  particularized.  And  when  I  have  done  the 
exercise,  it  hath  gone  to  my  heart  to  think  the  word 
should  now  fall  as  rain  on  stony  places;  still  wishing. 


VZ  THE    LIIE    OF 

O  that  tliey  who  liave  heard  me  did  but  see  as  I  do, 
what  sin,  and  death,  and  hell,  and  the  curse  of  God 
are!  and  what  the  grace,  and  love,  and  mercy  of  God 
are,  through  Christ,  to  men  who  are  yet  estranged  from 
him  !'  And  indeed  I  did  often  say  in  my  heart  before  the 
Lord,  that  if  to  be  hanged  up  presently  before  their  eyes 
would  be  a  means  of  awakening  them  and  confirming 
them  in  the  truth,  I  could  gladly  consent  to  it. 

"  I  never  cared  to  meddle  with  unimportant  points 
which  were  in  dispute  among  the  saints,  yet  it  pleased 
me  much  to  contend  with  great  earnestness  for  the  word 
of  faith,  and  the  remission  of  sins  by  the  sufferings  and 
death  of  Jesus.  I  saw  my  work  before  me  did  run  in 
another  channel,  even  to  carry  the  awakening  word ;  to 
that,  therefore,  I  did  adhere. 

'*  If  any  of  those  who  were  awakened  by  my  ministry 
fell  back,  I  can  truly  say,  that  their  loss  hath  been  more 
to  me  than  if  my  own  child  had  been  going  to  its  grave. 
My  heart  hath  been  so  v/rapped  up  in  the  glory  of  this 
excellent  work,  that  I  counted  myself  more  blessed  and 
honored  by  it,  than  if  God  had  made  me  emperor  of  the 
christian  world,  or  the  lord  of  all  the  glory  of  the  earth, 
without  it.  Oh,  these  words,  '  He  that  converteth  a  sin- 
ner from  the  error  of  his  way,  doth  save  a  soul  from 
death.  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness 
of  the  firmament,  and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteous-' 
ness,  as  the  stars,  for  ever  and  ever;'  James,  5:20;: 
Dan.  12:3;  these,  with  many  others  of  alike  nature, 
have  been  refreshments  to  me. 

"  My  great  desire,  in  fulfilling  my  ministry,  was  to 
get  into  the  darkest  places  of  the  country,  because  I  found  f 
my  spirit  leaned  most  after  awakening  and  converting] 
woiK  :  and  tlic  word  that  I  carried  did  lean  itself  most 


REV.    JOHN    BUNIAN.  13 

that  way  also :  '  Yea,  so  have  I  strived  to  preach  the 
Gospel,  not  where  Christ  was  named,  lest  I  should 
build  on  another  man's  foundation.'  "  Rom.  15  :  20. 

This  fidehty  excited  many  enemies ;  and  the  time  in 
which  he  lived  being  a  time  of  persecution  for  conscience 
sake,  he  was  thrown  into  prison,  and  there  continued,  in 
the  whole,  for  twelve  years. 

He  was  enabled  to  bear  this  tedious  imprisonment  pa- 
i  tiently.  The  Lord  was  very  gracious  to  him.  "I  nevei 
had,"  he  said  while  in  prison,  "in  all  my  life,  so  great 
an  insight  into  the  word  of  God  as  now.  Those  Scrip- 
tures which  I  saw  nothing  in  'before,  are  made,  in  this 
place  and  state,  to  shine  upon  me.  I  have  had  sweet 
sights  of  the  forgiveness  of  my  sins,  and  of  my  being 
with  Jesus  in  another  world.  '  O,  the  Mount  Sion,  the 
heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  innumerable  company  of  angels, 
and  God  the  Judge  of  all,  and  the  spirits  of  just  men 
made  perfect,'  and  Jesus,  have  been  sweet  unto  me  in  this 
place !  I  have  seen  that  here,  which  I  am  persuaded  I 
shall  never  while  in  this  world  be  able  to  express.  I  have 
seen  a  truth  in  the  words,  '  Whom  having  not  seen,  ye 
love  ;  in  whom,  though  now  you  see  him  not,  yet  believ- 
ing, ye  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory.'  " 

The  thoughts  of  his  afflicted  family  would  sometimes 
press  UDon  his  mind,  especially  the  case  of  one  of  his 
four  children  who  was  blind.  Mr.  Bunyan  was  a  man 
of  strong  affections,  a  tender  husband,  and  a  very  indul-' 
gent  parent.  But  he  was  supported  under  this  affliction 
by  these  two  Scriptures :  "  Leave  thy  fatherless  chil- 
dren, I  will  preserve  them  alive;  and  let  thy  widows 
trust  in  me."  The  Lord  hath  said,  *'  Verily,  it  shall  be 
well  with  thy  remnant ;  verily,  I  will  cause  the  enemy 
to  entreat  thee  well  in  the  time  of  evil." 


14  THE    LIFE    OF 

He  was  not  idle  during  his  long  and  severe  confine- 
ment, but  diligently  studied  his  Bible,  which,  with  the 
Book  of  Martyrs,  composed  his  whole  library.  His  own 
hands  a/so  ministered  to  the  necessity  of  his  indigent  fa 
mily ;  but  he  was  still  more  usefully  employed  in  preach- 
ing to  all  who  could  gain  access  to  the  jail,  and  with  a 
spirit  and  a  power  that  surprised  his  hearers. 

It  was   here  also  that   he  composed  several  useful 
treatises,  especially  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  a  book 
which  has  done  as  much  good,  perhaps,  as  any  other, 
except  the  Bible  ;    and  by  writing  which  he  has  proba- 
bly been  more  useful  than  if  he  had  enjoyed  the  unre- 
strained exercise  of  his  public  ministry.    In  composing 
it  he  was  evidently  favored  with  a  peculiar  measure  of 
the  Divine  assistance.     Within  the  confines  of  a  jail  he 
was  able  so  to  delineate  the  christian's  course,  with  its 
various   difficulties,   perils    and  conflicts,  that  scarcely 
any  thing  seems  to  have  escaped  his  notice.     The  most 
accurate  observer  will  hardly  find  one  character,  either 
good  or  bad,  or  one  fatal  delusion,  or  injurious  mistake, 
which  is  not  essentially  pointed  out  in  the  Pilgrim'' s  Pro-  , 
gress.    The  book  suits  all  the  various  descriptions  of  i< 
persons   who  profess    godliness,  and   relates  the    expe-  :' 
rience,  temptations,  conflicts,  supports  and  consolations: 
of  christians  in  our  own  times,  as  exactly  as  if  it  had  •( 
been  penned  for  their  own  immediate  benefit.     Cowperi) 
has  spoken  of  this  book  and  its  author  in  the  following,;; 


0  thou,  whom,  borne  on  fancy's  eager  wing 
Back  to  the  season  of  Hfc's  happy  spring, 

1  pleased  remember,  and  while  mem'ry  yet 
Holds  fast  her  office  here,  can  ne'er  forget. 


REV.    JOHN    BUNYAN.  15 

Ingenious  dreamer,  in  whose  well- tc  Id  tale 

Sweet  fiction  and  sweet  truth  alike  prevail 

Whose  hum'rous  vein,  strong  sense,  and  simple  stylo 

May  teach  the  gayest,  make  the  gravest  smile  ; 

Witty,  and  well  employed,  and  like  thy  Lord,  "' 

Speaking  in  parables  his  slighted  word. 

I  name  thee  not,  lest  so  despised  a  name 

Should  move  a  sneer  at  thy  deserved  fame ; 

Yet  e'en  in  transitory  life's  late  day, 

That  mingles  all  my  brown  with  sober  gray, 

Revere  the  man  whose  Pilgrim  marks  the  road, 

And  guides  the  Progress  of  the  soul  to  God. 

The  narrative  is  so  entertaining,  that  the  heart  be- 
comes interested  in  the  event  of  every  transaction  :  min- 
isters may  draw  from  it  the  most  valuable  instruction  as 
u  text-book  to  be  used  in  their  private  meetings ;  and 
parents  may  with  great  advantage  select  ])ortions  of  it  to 
-♦be  read  and  explained  to  their  cliildrcn. 

After  the  Lord  had  accomphshed  what  he  had  de- 
signed in  the  works  written  by  this  man  of  God  in  his 
dreary  solitude,  he  at  length  disposed  Dr.  Barlow,  then 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  and  others,  to  pity  his  undeserved 
Bufferings,  and  to  interest  themselves  in  procuring  his 
enlargement. 

His  active  spirit  soon  improved  the  liberty  afforded 
him :  he  visited  the  people  of  God  in  several  places,  es- 
pecially the  afflicted,  tempted  and  persecuted,  to  whom 
he  was  now  well  qualified  to  speak  a  word  in  season. 
He  took  this  opportunity  of  paying  his  grateful  acknow- 
ledgments to  his  friends  whose  kind  assistance  he  had  ex- 
perienced in  prison ;  and  as  occasion  offered  he  preach- 


16  THE    LIFE    OF 

ed  the  Gospel  with  great  boldness  and  acceptance,  par- 
ticularly to  the  congregation  at  Bedford,  of  whom  he  was 
now  chosen  minister. 

Amidst  all  his  popularity  and  success,  he  was  kept 
humble,  and  was  seldom  or  ever  known  to  speak  of  him- 
self. His  whole  behavior  was  exemplary,  so  that  malice 
herself  has  not  been  able  to  find,  even  on  the  closest 
inspection,  a  single  stain  on  his  reputation  and  moral 
character. 

His  valuable  life,  worn  out  with  sufferings,  age  and 
ministerial  labors,  was  closed  with  a  memorable  act  of 
christian  charity.  He  was  well  known  under  the  blessed 
character  of  a  peace-maker.  He  was  therefore  desired 
by  a  young  gentleman  in  the  neighborhood  of  Bedford, 
to  interpose  as  a  mediator  between  him  a«d  his  offended 
father,  who  lived  at  Reading,  in  Berkshire:  this  friendly 
business  he  cheerfully  undertook  and  happily  effected. 
But,  in  his  return  to  London,  being  overtaken  with  ex- 
cessive rain,  he  came  tq  a  friend's  on  Snow  Hill,  very 
wet,  and  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever,  the  pains  of 
which  he  bore  with  great  patience,  resigning  himself  to 
the  will  of  God,  desiring  to  be  called  away  that  he  might 
be  with  Christ,  looking  upon  life  as  a  delay  of  that  bless- 
edness to  which  his  soul  was  aspiring,  and  after  which  it 
was  thirsting.  In  this  holy,  longing  frame  of  spirit,  after 
a  sickness  of  ten  days,  he  breathed  out  his  soul  into  the 
liands  of  his  blessed  Redeemer,  Aug.  12,  1688,  aged  60. 

His  natural  abilities  were  remarkably  great;  his  fancy 
and  invention  uncommonly  fertile.  His  wit  was  sharp 
and  quick ;  his  memory  very  good,  it  being  customary 
with  him  to  commit  his  sermons  to  writing  after  h 
had  preached  them.  His  works  are  collected  in  two  vo- 
lumes folio,  and  contain  as  many  treatises  as  he  livs^ 


3 


REV.    JOHN    BUNVAN.  17 

ears.  His  judgement  was  sound  and  deep  in  the  essen- 
al  principles  of  the  Gospel,  as  his  writings  sufficiently 
vince.  His  piety  and  sincerity  toward  God  were  ap- 
arent  to  all  who  conversed  with  him.  He  constantly 
maintained  the  god-like  principle  of  love,  often  bewail- 
ig  that  there  should  be  so  much  division  among  chris- 
ans.  He  was  a  man  of  heroic  courage,  resolute  for 
!]irist  and  the  Gospel,  and  bold  in  reproving  sin  both  in 
uljlic  and  private ;  yet  mild,  condescending,  and  affable 
)  all.  Thus  lived  and  died  a  man  in  whose  character, 
mduct,  and  usefulness  that  Scripture  was  remarkably 
erified,  "Ye  see  your  calling,  brethren,  how  that  not 
any  wise  men  after  the  flesh,  not  many  mighty,  not 
any  noble,  are  called;  but  God  hath  chosen  the  foolish 
lings  of  the  world  to  confound  the  wise,  that  no  flesh 
lould  glory  in  his  presence," 


Pil.  Progr 


THE    AUTHOR'S 
APOLOGY   FOR   HIS   BOOK 


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

And  thus  it  was  :  I  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints,  in  this  our  gospel-day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey,  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things  which  I  set  down 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  crown  ; 
And  they  again  began  to  multiply, 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly  ; 
Nay,  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast 
I'll  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 
Should  prove  ad  infinitum,*  and  eat  out 
The  book  that  I  already  am  about. 
Well,  so  I  did  ;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
To  show  to  all  the  world  my  pen  and  ink 
In  such  a  mode  ;  1  only  thought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what :  nor  did  I  undertake 

*  Without  encL 


THE   author's    apology.  19 

Thereby  to  please  my  neighbor  ;  no,  not  I ; 
I  did  it  my  own  self  to  gratify. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  scribble :  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this, 
From  worser  thoughts,  which  make  me  do  amiss. 
Thus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight, 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white. 
For  having  now  my  method  by  the  end, 
Still  as  I  puU'd  it  came  ;  and  so  I  penned 
It  down  :  until  it  came  at  last  to  be, 
For  length  and  breadth,  the  bigness  which  you  see 

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

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

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

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


S^  THE   author's    apology. 

T  did  not  know,  but  hinder  tliem  I  might 
Of  that  which  would  to  them  be  great  dehght. 
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  ^vilt  not  read,  let  it  alone  ; 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  the  bone. 
Yea,  that  I  might  them  better  palliate, 
I  did  too  with  them  thus  expostulate : 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  style  as  this  ? 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
My  end — thy  good  ?    Why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
Dark  clouds  bring  waters  when  the  bright  bring  none 
Yea,  dark  or  bright,  if  they  their  silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  earth,  by  yielding  crops, 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either. 
But  treasures  up  the  fruit  they  yield  together  ; 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  their  fruit 
'  None  can  distinguish  this  from  that ;  they  suit 
Her  well  when  hungry  ;  but  if  she  be  full, 
She  spews  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessing  nuIL 

You  see  the  ways  the  fishennan  doth  take 
To  catch  the  fish ;  what  engines  doth  he  make  ! 
Behold  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits  ; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets  ; 
Yet  fish  there  be,  that  neither  hook  nor  line. 
Nor  snare,  nor  net,  nor  engine  can  make  thine ; 
They  must  be  groped  for,  and  be  tickled  too. 
Or  they  will  not  be  catch'd,  whate'er  you  do. 


THE    author's    apology.  21 

How  does  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game 
By  divers  means !  all  which  one  cannot  name : 
His  guns,  his  nets,  his  lime-twigs,  light  and  bell: 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands ;  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures  ?   Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  pleasG. 
Vea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle,  to  catch  this  ; 
Yet  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 
[f  that  a  pearl  may  in  a  toad's  head  dwell, 
A.nd  may  be  found  too  in  an  oyster-shell ; 
If  things  that  promise  nothing  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  gold  ,•  who  will  disdain, 
That  have  an  inkhng*  of  it,  there  to  look. 
That  they  may  find  it.    Now  my  little  book, 
(Though  void  of  all  these  paintings  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take,) 
I  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  will  stand  when  soundly  tried." 

Why,  what's  the  matter?  "  It  is  dark,"  What  though  ? 
"  But  it  is  feigned."  What  of  that?  I  trow 
Some  men  by  feigned  words,  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine. 
"  But  they  want  solidness."    Speak,  man,  thy  mind. 
*'  They  drown  the  weak  ;  metaphors  make  us  blind." 

Solidity,  indeed,  becomes  the  pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  divine  to  men : 

*  Hint,  whisper,  insinuation. 


22  THE  author's  apology. 

But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  metapliors  I  speak  ?     Were  not  God's  laws, 
His  Gospel  laws,  in  olden  time  held  forth 
By  types,  shadows,  and  metaphors  ?    Yet  loth 
Win  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  highest  wisdom  !    No,  he  rather  stoops. 
And  seeks  to  find  out  what,  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  calves  and  sheep,  by  heifers  and  by  rams, 
By  birds  and  herbs,  and  by  the  blood  of  lambs, 
God  speaketh  to  him ;  and  happy  is  he 
That  finds  the  light  and  grace  that  in  them  be. 

Be  not  too  forward  therefore  to  conclude 
That  I  want  solidness — that  I  am  rude  : 
All  things  sohd  in  show  not  solid  be ; 
All  things  in  parable  despise  not  we, 
Lest  things  most  hurtful  lightly  we  receive. 
And  things  that  good  are,  of  our  souls  bereave. 
My  dark  and  cloudy  words  they  do  but  hold 
The  truth,  as  cabinets  enclose  the  gold. 

The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors 
To  set  forth  truth  :  yea,  whoso  considers 
Christ,  his  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see, 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantles  be. 

Am  I  afraid  to  say,  that  holy  wiit, 
Which  for  its  style  and  jjhrase  puts  down  all  wit. 
Is  every  where  so  full  of  all  these  things. 
Dark  figures,  allegories  ?    Yet  there  springs 
From  that  same  book,  that  lustre,  and  those  rays 
Of  light  that  turn  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 


THE  author's  apology.  23 

Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look, 
Aiid  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  book 
He  findeth  any  ;  yea,  and  let  him  know. 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men, 
To  his  poor  one  I  durst  adventure  ten, 
That  they  will  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines 
Far  better  than  his  lies  in  silver  shrines. 
Come,  truth,  although  in  swaddling  clothes,  I  find 
Informs  the  judgment,  rectifies  the  mind ; 
Pleases  the  understanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit,  the  memory  too  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please  ; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words,  I  know,  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  wives'  fables  he  is  to  refuse ; 
But  yet  grave  Paul  him  no  where  doth  forbid 
The  use  of  parables  ;  in  which  lay  hid 
That  gold,  those  pearls,  and  precious  stones  that  were 
Worth  digging  for,  and  that  with  greatest  care. 

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

1.  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  my  method,  so  I  no  abuse 
Put  on  the  words,  things,  readers,  or  be  rude 
In  handling  figure  or  similitude, 


24  THE  author's  apology. 

In  application ;  but  all  that  I  may 
Seek  the  advance  of  truth  this  or  that  way. 
Denied  did  I  say?  Nay,  I  have  leave, 
(Example  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased,  by  their  words  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breatheth  now-a-days,) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee  that  excellentest  are. 

2.  1  find  that  men  as  high  as  trees  will  write 
Dialogue-wise  :  yet  no  man  doth  them  slight 
For  writing  so  :  indeed  if  they  abuse 
Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and  the  craft  they  use 
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  first  to  plough. 
To  guide  our  minds  and  pens  for  his  design? 
And  he  makes  base  things  usher  in  divine. 

3.  I  find  that  holy  writ,  in  many  places. 
Hath  semblance  v/ith  this  method,  where  the  casea 
Do  call  for  one  thing,  to  set  forth  another  : 

Use  it  I  may  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 
Truth's  golden  beams ;  nay,  by  this  method  may 
Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 

And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  pen. 
I'll  show  the  profit  of  my  book  ;  and  then 
Commit  both  thee  and  it  unto  that  hand 
That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stand. 

This  book  it  chalketh  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  prize : 


THE    AUTHOR'S    AFOLOUY.  25 

It  sliows  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes, 
What  he  leaves  undone ;  also  what  he  does  • 
It  also  shows  you  how  he  runs  and  runs 
Till  he  unto  the  gate  of  glory  comes. 
It  shows,  too,  who  set  out  for  life  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  crown  they  would  obtain ; 
Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labor,  and  like  fools  do  die. 

This  book  will  make  a  traveller  of  thee, 
If  by  its  counsel  thou  wilt  ruled  be ; 
It  will  direct  thee  to  the  Holy  Land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  directions  understand : 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful  active  be  ; 
The  blind  also  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  see  a  truth  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  mind  of  listless  men  affect ; 
It  seems  a  novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound  and  honest  Gospel  strains. 

Wouldst  thou  divert  thyself  from  melancholy  ? 
Wouldst  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  folly  ? 
Wouldst  thou  read  riddles,  and  their  explanation  3 
Or  else  be  drowned  in  thy  contemplation? 


26  THE    author's    apology. 

Dost  thou  love  picking  meat  ?  Or  wouldst  thou  see 
A.  man  i'  the  clouds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee  "? 
Wouldst  thou  be  in  a  dream  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep  ? 
Wouldst  thou  lose  thyself  and  catch  no  harm, 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm  ? 
Wouldst  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  know'st  not  what, 
And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  blest  or  not, 
By  reading  the  same  lines  ?  O  then  come  hither. 
And  lay  my  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together. 

John  Bun  tan 


THE 


PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS, 


IN  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 


THE    FIRST    STAGE. 


As  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world 
I  lighted  on  a  certain  place  where  was 

1        *         1  1    -1  1  -1  1  The  Jail. 

a  den,*  and  laid  me  down  in  that  place 
to  sleep ;  and  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed  a  dream.  I 
dreamed,  and  behold,  I  saw  a  man  clothed  with 
rags  standing  in  a  certain  place,  with  his  face  from 
his  own  house,  a  book  in  his  hand,  and  a  great 
burden  upon  his  back.  Isa.  64  :  6 ;  Luke,  14  :  33 ; 
Psalm  38  :  4.  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  con- 
tain, he  brake  out  with  a  lamentable  cry,  saying, 
"  What  shall  I  do  V  Acts,  2  :  37  ;  16  :  30  ;  Habak. 
1  :  2,  3. 

In  this  plight,  therefore,  he  went  home,  and  re- 
sti'ained  himself  as  long  as  he  could,  that  his  wife 

*  Bedford  jail,  in  which  the  author  was  a  prisoner  for  conscience 


2S  pilgrim's  sad  condition. 

and  children  should  not  perceive  his  distress ;  but 
he  could  not  he  silent  long,  because  that  his  trou- 
ble 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  fi'iend, 
am  in  myself  undone  by  reason  of  a  burden  that 
lieth  hard  upon  me ;  moreover,  I  am  certainly  in- 
formed that  this  our  city  will  be  burat 
with  fire  from  heaven ;  in  which  fear- 
ful overthrow,  both  myself,  with  thee  my  wife,  and 
„    ,  you  mv  sweet  babes,  shall  miserably 

He  knows    no    •'  •'  _  •' 

way  of  escape    come  to  ruin,  except  (the  which  yet  1 

as  yet.  .  „  , 

see  not)  some  way  oi  escape  can  oe 
found  whereby  we  may  be  delivered."  At  this  his 
relations  were  sore  amazed  ;  not  for  that  they  be- 
lieved that  what  he  had  said  to  them  was  true,  but 
because  they  thought  that  some  phrenzy  distem- 
per had  got  into  his  head  ;  therefore,  it  drawing  to- 
ward night,  and  they  hoping  that  sleep  might  set- 
tle 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 
^      ,    T,    .      them  ao^ain  :  but  they  be^an  to  be  hard- 

Camal  pnysic  o         '  j         o  ^ 

for  a  sick  soul.  eued.  They  also  thought  to  drive  away 
his  distemper  by  harsh  and  surly  carriage  to  him ; 
sometimes    they   would   deride,    sometimes   they 


EVANGELIST    DIRECTS    HIM.  29 

would  chide,  and  'sometimes  they  would  quite 
liLMilect  him.  Wherefore  he  began  to  retire  him- 
self to  his  chamber  to  pray  for  and  pity  them,  and 
al-o  to  condole  his  o^vn  misery;  he  would  also 
walk  solitarily  in  the  fields,  sometimes  reading, 
and  sometimes  praying :  and  thus  for  some  days 
ne  spent  his  time. 

Now  I  saw,  upon  a  time,  when  he  was  walking 
111  the  fields,  that  he  was  (as  he  was  wont)  read- 
ing: in  his  book,  and  greatly  distressed  in  his  mind; 
and  as  he  read,  he  burst  out,  as  he  had  done  be- 
fore, crying,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  ]" 
Acts,  16  :  30,  31. 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way,  and  that 
way,  as   if  he  would  run ;  yet  he  stood  still,  be- 
I  cause  (as  I  perceived)    he   could   not  tell  which 
;  way  to  go.  I  looked  then,  and  saw  a  man  named 
Evangelist  coming  to  him,  and  he  asked,  **  Where- 
fore dost  thou  cry  ?" 

He  answered,  "  Sir,  I  perceive,  by  the  book  in 
my  hand,  that  I  am  condemned  to  die,  and  after 
that  to  come  to  judgment,  and  I  find  that  I  am  not 
willing  to  do  the  first,  nor  able  to  do  the  second." 
Heb.  9  :  27  ;  Job,  10  :  21,  22  ;  Ezek.  22  :  14. 

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  bur- 
den that  is  upon  my  back  ^vill  sink  me  lower  than 
the  grave,  and  I  shall  fall  into  Tophet.  Isa.  30  :  33. 
And,  sir,  if  I  be  not  fit  to  go  to  prison,  I  am  not 


30  EVANGELIST    DIRECTS    HIM. 

fit  to  go  to  judgment,  and  from  thence  to  execu- 
tion; and  the  thoughts  of  these  things  make 
me  cry." 

Then  said  Evangelist,  "  If  this  be  thy  condition, 
^     .  ,.      ^  why  standest  thou  still  ]"    He  answer- 

Conviction  of  «' 

the  necessity  of  ed,    "  Bocauso  I  know  not  whither  to 
go."     Then  he  gave  him  a  parchment 
roll,  and  there  was  written  within,  "  Fly  from  the 
wrath  to  come."  Mat.  3  :  7. 

The  man  therefore  read  it,  and,  looking  upon 
Evangelist  very  carefully,  said,  "  Whither  must  I 
fly  ]"  Then  said  Evangelist,  (pointing  with  his 
finger  over  a  very  wide  field,)  **  Do  you  see  yon- 
der wicket-gate  ]"  Mat.  7  :  13,  14.  The  man  said, 
"  No."  Then  said  the  other,  "  Do  you  see  yonder 
Christ  and  the  shining  light  f'  Psalm  119  :  105;  2 
waytohimcan-   Pet.  1  :  19.     He  Said,  *'  I  think  I  do." 

not    be    found  .  ^^ 

without  the  Then  said  Jiivangelist,  **  Keep  that 
light  in  your  eye,  and  go  up  directly 
thereto,  so  shalt  thou  see  the  gate ;  at  which,  when 
thou  knockest,  it  shall  be  told  thee  what  thou  shalt 
do."  So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  man  began  to 
run..  Now  he  had  not  run  far  from  his  own  door 
when  his  wife  and  children,  perceiving  it,  began 
to  cry  after  him  to  return ;  but  the  man  put  his 
fingers  in  his  ears  and  ran  on,  crying,  "  Life  !  life ! 
etenial  life  !"  Luke,  14  :  26.  So  he  looked  not  be- 
hind him.  Gen.  19  :  17,  but  fled  toward  the  mid- 
dle of  the  plain. 

The  neidibors  also  came  out  to  see  him  run, 


OBSTINATE    AND    PLIABLE.  31 

Jer.  20  :  10 ;  and  as  he  ran,  some 
mocked,  others  threatened,  and  some  from  the  wrath 
cried  after  him  to  return ;  and  among  gazS^stock  to 
those  that  did  so,  there  were  two  that  *^^  '^°^^*^- 
resolved  to  fetch  him  back  by  force.  The  name  of 
the  one  was  Obstinate,  and  the  name  of  the  othei 
Pliable.  Now  by  this  time  the  man  was  got  a 
good  distance  from  them ;  but  however  they  were 
resolved  to  pursue  him,  which  they  did,  and  in  a 
little  time  they  overtook  him.  Then  said  the  man, 
**  Neighbors,  wherefore  are  ye  come  ]"  They 
said,  "  To  persuade  you  to  go  back  with  us." 
But  he  said,  **  That  can  by  no  means  be :  you 
dwell,"  said  he,  "  in  the  city  of  Destruction,  the 
place  also  where  I  was  born :  I  see  it  to  be  so , 
and  dying  there,  sooner  or  later  you  will  sink 
lOwer  than  the  grave,  into  a  place  that  burns  with 
fire  and  brimstone :  be  content,  good  neighbors, 
and  go  along  with  me." 

Obst.  What !  said  Obstinate,  and  leave  our 
friends  and  our  comforts  behind  us ! 

Chr.  Yes,  said  Christian,  (for  that  was  his 
name,)  because  that  all  which  you  forsake  is  not 
worthy  to  be  compared  with  a  little  of  that  I  am 
seeking  to  enjoy,  2  Cor.  4  :  18 ;  and  if  you  will  go 
along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you  shall  fare  as  I  my- 
self; for  there,  where  I  go,  is  enough  and  to  spare. 
Luke,  15  :  17.    Come  away,  and  prove  my  words. 

Obst.  What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you 
leave  all  the  world  to  find  them  "i 


32  OBSTINATE    AND    PLIABLE. 

Chr.  I  seek  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  unde- 
Sled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away,  1  Peter,  1:4;  and 
it  is  laid  up  in  heaven,  and  safe  there,  Heb.  11  :  16, 
to  be  bestowed,  at  the  time  appointed,  on  them  thrit 
diligently  seek  it.  Read  it  so,  if  you  will,  in  i 
book. 

Obst.  Tush,  said  Obstinate,  away  vdth  your 
book  ;  will  you  go  back  with  us  or  no  1 

Chr.  No,  not  I,  said  the  other,  because  I  have 
laid  my  hand  to  the  plough.  Luke,  9  :  62. 

Obst.  Come  then,  neighbor  Pliable,  let  us 
turn  again,  and  go  home  without  him :  there  is  a 
company  of  these  crazy-headed  coxcombs  that 
when  they  take  a  fancy  by  the  end  are  wiser  in 
their  o^vn  eyes  than  seven  men  that  can  render 
a  reason. 

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

Obst.  Yv^hat!  more  fools  still!  Be  ruled  by 
me  and  go  back ;  who  knows  whither  such  a  brain- 
sick fellow  will  lead  you  ]  Go  back,  go  back,  and 
be  wise. 

Chr.  Nay,  but  do  thou  come  with  thy  neighbor 
Chrisriat  and  Pliable  ;  there  are  such  things  to  be 
obstin^e^puu  ^g^^j  which  I  spoke  of,  and  many  more 
eouL  glories  beside.    If  you  believe  not  me, 

read  here  in  this  book ;  and  for  the  truth  of  what 
is  expressed  therein,  behold,  all  is  confirmed  by 


OBSTINATE    GOES    BACK.  33 

.  blood  of  Him  that  made  it.     Heb.  9  :  17-21. 

Pli.  Well,  neighbor  Obstinate,  said  Pliable,  I 

■  "srin  to  come  to  a  point;  I  intend  to  PUabieconsem- 

'    ,  .  ,       ,  .  T  ,  eth  to  go  with 

along  with  this  good  man,  and  to  chrisaan. 
t  in  my  lot  'v^'ith  him  :  but,  ray  good  companion 
you  know  the  way  to  this  desired  place  ? 
Chr.  I  am  directed  by  a  man,  whose  name  is 
E  vangelist,  to  speed  me  to  a  little  gate  that  is  be- 
i  re  us,  where  we  shall  receive  instructions  about 
tlie  way. 

Pli.  Come  then,  good  neighbor,  let  us  be  go- 
Then  they  went  botE  together. 
')bst.  And  I  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said 
^tinate  :  I  will  be  no  companion  of  obstinate  goes 
h  misled  fantastical  fellows.  ^^^-  ^^^"^ 

Xow  I  saw  in  my  di'eam,  that  when  Obstinate 
was  gone  back.  Christian  and  PHable 
went  talking  over  the  plain  ;  and  thus     christian  and 
they  began  their  discourse.  ^  ^' 

Chr.  Come,  neighbor  Pliable,  how  do  you  do  ? 
I  am  glad  you  are  persuaded  to  go  along  vn.th.  me. 
Had  even  Obstinate  himself  but  felt  what  I  have 
felt  of  the  powers  and  terrors  of  what  is  yet  unseen, 
he  would  not  thus  lightly  have  given  us  the  back 
Pli.  Come,  neighbor  Christian,  since  there  are 
none  but  us  two  here,  tell  me  now  farther,  what 
the  things  are,  and  how  to  be  enjoyed,  whither  we 
are  going. 

Chr.  I  can  better  conceive  of  them      Q^g  jj^j^^ 
with  my  mmd,  than  speak  of  them  with      ^speakabfe. 

Pil.  Progresi.  Q 


34  CHRISTIAN    AND    PLIABLE. 

my   tongue :  but  yet  since  you   are  desirous   to 
know,  I  will  read  of  them  in  my  book. 

Pli.  And  do  you  think  tha:  ^he  words  of  yo. 
book  are  certainly  true  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  verily ;  for  it  was  made  by  Him  th' 
cannot  lie.     Tit.  1  :  2. 

Pli.  Well  said  ;  what  things  are  they? 

Chr.  There  is  an  endless  kingdom  to  be  inhab 
ited,  and  everlasting  life  to  be  given  us,  that  we 
may  inhabit  that  kingdom  for  ever.  Isa.  45  :  17  ; 
John,  10  :  27-29. 

Pli.  Well  said ;   and  what  else  ? 

Chr.  There  are  crowns  of  glory  to  be  given 
us ;  and  garments  that  will  make  us  shine  like  the 
sun  in  the  firmament  of  heaven.  2  Tim.  4  : 6  ; 
Rev.  82  :  5  ;  Mat.  13  :  43. 

Pli.  This  is  very  pleasant ;  and  what  else  ? 

Chr.  There  shall  be  no  more  crying,  nor  sor- 
row, for  he  that  is  owner  of  the  place  will  wipe 
all  tears  from  our  eyes.  Isa.  25  :  8 ;  Rev.  7  :  16, 
17;  21  :  4. 

Pli.  And  what  company  shall  we  have  there  1 

Chr.  There  we  shall  be  with  seraphims  and 
cherubims,  creatures  that  will  dazzle  your  eyes  to 
look  on  them.  Isaiah,  6  :  2  ;  1  Thess.  4  :  16,  17. 
There  also  you  shall  meet  with  thousands  and 
ten  thousands  that  have  gone  before  us  to  that 
jDlace;  none  of  them  are  hurtful,  but  loving 
and  holy ;  every  one  walking  in  the  sight  of  God, 
and  standing  in  his  presence  with  acceptance  foi 


CHRISTIAN    AND    PLIABLE.  35 

ever.  In  a  word,  there  we  shall  see  the  elders 
with  their  goLlen  crowns,  Rev.  4:4;  there  we 
shall  see  the  holy  virgins  with  their  golden  harps, 
Rev.  14  :  1-5  ;  there  we  shall  see  men,  that  by 
the  world  were  cut  in  pieces,  burnt  in  flames,  eaten 
of  beasts,  drowned  in  the  seas,  for  the  love  they 
bare  to  the  Lord  of  the  place  ;  all  well,  and  cloth- 
ed with  immortality  as  with  a  garment.  John,  12  : 
25  ;  2  Cor.  5  :  2. 

Pli.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  ravish 
one's  heart.  But  are  these  things  to  be  enjoyed  1 
How  shall  we  get  to  be  sharers  thereof] 

Chr.  The  Lord,  the  governor  of  the  country, 
hath  recorded  that  in  this  book,  the  substance  of 
which  is.  If  we  be  truly  willing  to  have  it,  he  will 
bestow  it  upon  us  freely.  Isa.  55  :  1,  2 ;  John, 
6  :  37;   7:37;  Rev.  21  :  6;  22  :  17. 

Pli.  Well,  my  good  companion,  glad  am  I  to 
hear  of  these  things :  come  on,  let  us  mend  our  pace. 

Chr.  I  cannot  go  so  fast  as  I  would,  by  reason 
of  this  burden  that  is  on  my  back. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as  they  had 
ended  this  talk  they  drew  nigh  to  a  very  miry 
slough  that  was  in  the  midst  of  the  plain  :  and  they 
being  heedless,  did  both  fall  suddenly  into  the  bog. 
The  name  of  the  slough  was  Despond.  The  siou<rh  of 
Here,  therefore,  they  wallowed  for  a  Despond, 
time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with  dirt;  and 
Christian,  because  of  the  burden  that  was  on  his 
foi     back,  began  to  sink  in  the  mire. 


36  SLOUGH    OF    DESPOND. 

PLI.  Then  said  Pliable,  Ah,  neighbor  Christian, 
where  are  you  now  ] 

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

Pli.  At  this  Pliable  began  to  be  offended,  and 
angi'ily  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  ex- 
pect between  this  and  our  journey's  end]  May  1 
get  out  again  with  my  life,  you  shall  possess  the 
,,.     ^        ,     brave  country  alone  for  me.    And  with 

It  18  not  enougn  •' 

to  be  pliable,  that  he  gave  a  desperate  struggle  or 
two,  and  got  out  of  the  mire  on  that  side  of  the 
slough  which  was  next  to  his  own  house  :  so  away 
he  went,  and  Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the 
^,  .  .      .     SlouQ^h  of  Despond  alone  :  but  still  he 

Chnstian,  in  '^  ■•■ 

trouble,  seeks   endeavored  to  struffffle  to  that  side  of 

Btill  to  get  far-      .  ^  ,       ^  n       ■,  r-  i  • 

ther  fiom  his  the  slougli  that  was  larthest  irom  bis 
own  house,  and  next  to  the  wicket = 
gate ;  the  which  he  did,  but  could  not  get  out  be- 
cause 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  V 

Chr.  Sir,  said  Christian,  I  was  bid  to  go  this 

way  by  a  man  called  Evangelist,  who  directed  me 

also  to  yonder  gate,  that  I  might  escape  the  v.'^rath 

?o  come.    And  as  I  was  going  thither  I  fell  in  here. 

Help.  But  why  did  not  you  look 

The  promises.     .        ,  » 

for  the  steps  i 


CHRISTIAN    LIFTED    OUT.  37 

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

Help.  Then  said  he  give  me  thine  hand  :  so  he 
gave  him  his  hand,  and  he  drew  him  jjeip  lifts  biia 
out,  Psalm  40  :  2,  and  he  set  him  up-  °^*' 

on  sound  ground,  and  bid  him  go  on  his  way. 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  plucked  him  out, 
and  said,  "  Sir,  wherefore,  since  over  this  place  is 
the  way  from  the  city  of  DestiTiction  to  yonder 
gate,  is  it,  that  this  plat  is  not  mended,  that  poor 
travellers  might  go  thither  with  more  security  ]" 
And  he  said  unto  me,  **  This  miry  slough  is  such 
a  place  as  cannot  be  mended  :  it  is  the      „„  , 

*  ^  _  What  makes 

descent  whither  the  scum  and  filth  that      theSioughof 

...  .  Despond. 

attends  conviction  for  sm  doth  continu- 
ally run,  and  therefore  it  is  called  th(?  Slough  of 
Despond ;  for  still  as  the  sinner  is  awakened  about 
his  lost  condition,  there  arise  in  his  soul  many  fears 
and  doubts,  and  discouraging  apprehensions,  which 
all  of  them  get  together,  and  settle  in  this  place  : 
and  this  is  the  reason  of  the  badness  of  this  ground. 
**  It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  King  that  this 
place  should  remain  so  bad.  Isa.  35  :  3,  4.  His 
laborers  also  have,  by  the  direction  of  his  Majes- 
ty's.sui^veyors,  been  for  above  these  sixteen  hun- 
dred years  employed  about  this  patch  of  ground, 
if  perhaps  it  might  have  been  mended  :  yea,  and 
to  my  knowledge,"  said  he,  "here  have  been  swal- 
lowed up  at  least  twenty  thousand  cart-loads,  yea, 
millions  of  wholesome  instructions,  that  have  at  all 


38  THE    STEPS    OF    PROMISE. 

seasons  been  brought  from  all  places  of  tbe  king's 
dominions,  (and  they  that  can  tell,  say,  they  are 
the  best  materials  to  make  good  ground  of  the 
place,)  if  so  be  it  might  have  been  mended  :  but  it 
is  the  Slough  of  Despond  still,  and  so  will  be  when 
they  have  done  what  they  can. 

"  True,  there  are,  by  the  dii'ection  of  the  Law- 
_  .       fjiver,  certain  o-ood  and  substantial  steps. 

The  promises    »  '  o  i     ' 

of  forgiveness  placed  even  through  the  very  midst  of 

and  acceptance    \  .         -,  ■,        n  i       •  i  • 

to  life  by  faith  this  slough ;  out  at  such  time  as  this 
place  doth  much  spew  out  its  filth,  as  it 
doth  against  change  of  weather,  these  steps  are 
hardly  seen ;  or  if  they  be,  men,  through  the  Aizzi- 
ness  of  their  heads,  step  beside,  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."  1  Sam.  12  :  23. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  Pli- 
able was  got  home  to  his  house.  So  ' 
ho^^^^and  ^is  ^^^^  neighbors  came  to  visit  him ;  and 
S^hbors^  ^^^  some  of  them  called  him  wise  man  for 
coming  back,  and  some  called  him  fool 
for  hazarding  himself  with  Christian  :  others  again 
did  mock  at  his  cowardliness ;  saying,  "  Surely, 
since  you  began  to  venture,  I  would  not  have  been 
so  base  as  to  have  given  out  for  a  few  difficulties  :" 
so  Pliable  sat  sneaking  among  them.  But  at  last 
he  got  more  confidence,  and  then  they  all  turned 
•their  tales,  and  began  to  deride  poor  Christian  be- 
hind his  back.    And  thus  much  concerninor  Pliable. 


WORLDLY    WISEMAN.  39 

Now  as  Christian  was  walliing  solitarily  by  liim- 
self,  he  espied  one  afar  off  come  crossing  over 
the  field  to  meet  him ;  and  their  hap 

,  ^        Rlr.  Worldly 

was  to  meet  just  as  they  were  cross-  Wiseman  meets 
tng  the  way  of  each  other.  The  gen- 
tleman's name  that  met  him  was  Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman  :  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Carnal  Policy, 
a  very  gi-eat  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  Destruc- 
tion was  much  noised  abroad,  not  only  in  the 
town  where  he  dwelt,  but  also  it  began  to  be  the 
town  talk  in  some  other  places,) — Mr.  Worldly 
Wiseman,  therefore,  having  some  guess  of  him, 
by  beholding  his  laborious  going,  by  observing  his 
sighs  and  gi'oans,  and  the  like,  began  thus  to  enter 
into  some  talk  with  Christian. 

World.  How  now,  good  fellow.  Talk  betwixt 
whither  away  after  this  burdened  \viseman°' and 
manner?  <=^^'^^^^- 

Chr.  a  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever  1 
think  poor  creature  had !  And  whereas  you  ask 
me.  Whither  away !  I  tell  you,  sir,  I  am  going 
to  yonder  wicket-gate  before  me ;  for  there,  as  I 
am  informed,  I  shall  be  put  into  a  way  to  be  rid 
of  my  heavy  burden. 

World.  Hast  thou  a  wife  and  children  1 

Chr.  Yes ;  but  I  am  so  laden  with  this  burden 

*  Slight  knowledge. 


40  WORLDLY    WISEMAN. 

that  I  cannot  take  that  pleasure  in  them  as  for 
merly :  niethinks  1  am  as  if  I  had  none.  1  Cor. 
7  :  29. 

World.  Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me  if  I  give 
thee  counsel  ] 

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

World.  I  would  advise  thee  then,  that  thou 
with  all  speed  sret  thyself  rid  of  thy 

Worldly  Wise-  n         ■,  -i 

man's  counsel  burden ;    tor  thou  wilt  never  be  set- 
tled in  thy  mind  till  then  :  nor  canst 
thou  enjoy  the  benefits  of  the  blessings  which  God 
hath  bestowed  upon  thee  till  then. 

Chr.  That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be 
rid  of  this  heavy  burden  :  but  get  it  off  myself  I 
cannot,  nor  is  there  any  man  in  our  country  that 
can  take  it  off  my  shoulders ;  therefore  am  I  going 
this  way,  as  I  told  you,  that  I  may  be  rid  of  my 
burden. 

World.  Who  bid  thee  go  this  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  re 
member,  is  Evangelist. 

World.  I  beshrew*  him  for  his  counsel !  there 

is  not  a  more  dangerous  and  trouble- 

wZl'^n^'lfl  some  way  in  the  world  than  is  that  in- 

demneth  Evan-   ^q  ^hjch  he  hath  directed  thee ;  and 
gelist  8  counsel.  ' 

that  thou  shalt  find,  if  thou  wilt  bo 
*  Wi£b  a  cvxBQ  to. 


WORLDLY   AVISEMAN.  41 

lulled  by  his  counsel.  Thou  hast  met  with  some- 
thing, as  I  perceive,  already;  for  I  see  the  dirt  of 
the  Slough  of  Despond  is  upon  thee;  but  that 
slough  is  the  beginning  of  the  sorrows  that  do  at- 
tend those  that  go  on  in  that  way.  Hear  me ;  I  am 
older  than  thou :  thou  art  like  to  meet  with,  in  the 
way  which  thou  goest,  wearisomeness,  painfulness, 
hunger,  perils,  nakedness,  sword,  lions,  dragons, 
darkness,  and,  in  a  word,  death,  and  what  not. 
These  things  are  certainly  true,  having  been  con- 
firmed by  many  testimonies.  And  should  a  man 
so  carelessly  cast  away  himself  by  giving  heed  to 
a  stranger  1 

Chr.  Why,  sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is 
more  temble  to  me  than  all  these  rpj^g  f^.^^^  ^f 
things   which    you    have   mentioned :   *^   hea.n   of 

^  ,  ''  a  young  cnns- 

nay,  methinks  I  care  not  what  I  meet   tian. 

with  in  the  way,  if  so  be  I  can  also  meet  with 

deliverance  from  my  burden. 

World.  How  camest  thou  by  thy  burden  at 
fn-st  1 

Chr.  By  reading  this  book  in  my  hand. 

World.  I  thought  so  ;  and  it  has  happened  un- 
to thee   as  to  other  weak  men,  who,   ^     . 

He    does    not 

'ddlinor  with  thinors  too  hig^h  for  them,   like  that  men 

n       1      r>  11    •  1         ?  •  ^'io^^'i  beseri- 

suddenly  fall  mto  thy  distractions  ;    ous  in  reading 

..,,.*'.  ,         \        ,  the  Bible. 

iich  distractions  do  not  only  unman 
men,  as  thine  I  perceive  have  done  thee,  but  they 
run  them  upon  desperate  ventures,  to  obtain  they 
know  not  what. 


42  WORLDLY   WISEMAN. 

Chr.  I  know  what  I  would  obtain ;  it  is  ease 
from  my  heavy  burden. 

World.  But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease  this 
way,  seeing  so  many  dangers  attend  it  ?  especially 
since  (hadst  thou  but  patience  to  hear  me)  I  could 
direct  thee  to  the  obtaining  of  what  thou  desirest, 
without  the  dangers  that  thou  in  this  way  wilt  run 
thyself  into.  Yea,  and  the  remedy  is  at  hand.  Be- 
sides, I  will  add,  that  instead  of  those  dangers, 
thou  shalt  meet  with  much  safety,  friendship,  and 
content. 

Chr.  Sir,  I  pray  open  this  secret  to  me. 

World.  Why,  in  yonder  village  (the  village  is 
named  Morality)  there  dwells  a  gentleman  whose 
name  is  Legality,  a  very  judicious  man,  and  a  man 
of  a  very  good  name,  that  has  skill  to  help  men  off 
with  such  burdens  as  thine  is  from  their  shoulders ; 
yea,  to  my  knowledge,  he  hath  done  a 

He  prefers  mo-  i      t       /•  i     i  •  t 

raiity  before  the  great  deal  oi  good  this  Way;  ay,  and 
etiaitgate.  besides,  he  hath  skill  to  cure  those 
that  are  somewhat  crazed  in  their  wits  with  their 
burdens.  To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayst  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  mayst  be  eased  of  thy  burden ; 
and  if  thou  art  not  minded  to  go  back  to  thy  for- 
mer habitation,  (as  indeed  I  would  not  vnsh  thee,) 


11 


MOUNT    SINAI.  43 

thou  mayst  send  for  thy  wife  and  children  to  thee 
to  this  village,  where  there  are  houses  now  stand- 
ing empty,  one  of  which  thou  mayst  have  at  a 
reasonable  rate  :  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. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand ;  but 
presently  he  concluded.  If  this  be  true    christian  snar- 
which   this  gentleman  hath  said,   my   ^voridiywS 
wisest  course  is   to  take  his   advice :   ^^'^  words. 
tmd  with  that  he  thus  farther  spake. 

Chr.  Sir,  which  is  my  way  to  this  honest  man's 
house  1 

World.  Do  you  see  yonder  high  t  s*  aL 

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,  christian  afraid 
when  he  was  o^ot  now  hard  by  the  hill,    ^^^^  ^^o""t  ^\: 

&_  •'  '     nai  would   fall 

it  seemed  so  high,  and  also  that  side  «"  ^^^  'i«^<i- 
of  it  that  was  next  the  way-side  did  hang  so  much 
over,  that  Christian  was  afraid  to  venture  farther, 
lest  the  hill  should  fall  on  his  head;  wherefore 
there  he  stood  still,  and  wotted  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,  Exod.  19  :  16,   18,  out  of  the  hill,  that 


44  EVANGELIST   INSTRUCTS   HIM. 

made  Christian  afraid  that  he  should  be  burnt: 
here  therefore  he  did  sweat,  and  quake  for  fear. 
Heb.  12  :  21.  And  now  he  began  to  be  sorry  that 
he  had  taken  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman's  counsel; 
and  with  that  he  saw  Evangelist  coming  to  meet 
him,  at  the  sight  also  of  whom  he  began  to  blush 
Evano-eiist find-  ^^^  shame.  So  Evangelist  drew  near- 
un%r Mounts?.  ®^  ^^^  nearer;  and  coming  up  to  him, 
^^^-  he  looked  upon  him  with  a  severe  and 

dreadful  countenance,  and  thus  began  to  reason 
with  Christian. 

Evan.  What  doest  thou  here.  Christian]  said, 
he :  at  which  words  Christian  knew  not  what 
„        ,.  to  answer :    wherefore  at  present  he 

Evangelist  rea-  '  ^ 

Bons  afresh  with   stood   speccliless   bcfore   him.     Then 

Cnnstian.  -^  t        r«      i 

said  Evangelist  farther,  Art  not  thou 
the  man  that  I  found  crying  without  the  walls  of 
the  city  of  Destruction  "? 

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

Evan.  Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the  lit- 
tle vdcket-gate  1 

Chr.  Yes,  dear  sir,  said  Christian. 

Evan.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly 
turaed  aside  1    For  thou  art  now  out  of  the  way. 

Chr.  I  met  with  a  gentleman  so  soon  as  I  had 
got  over  the  Slough  of  Despond,  who  persuaded 
me  that  I  might,  in  the  village  before  me,  find  a 
man  that  could  take  off  my  burden. 

Evan.  What  was  he  1 

Chr.  He  looked  like  a  gentleman,  and  talked 


EVANGELIST    INSTRUCTS   HIM.  45 

much  to  me,  and  got  me  at  last  to  yield :  so  1 
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  1 
Chr.  Why,  he  asked  me  whither  I  was  going; 
and  I  told  him. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then  ] 
Chr.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  family :  and  I 
told  him.    But,  said  T,  I  am  so  laden  with  the  bur- 
den that  is  on  my  back  that  I  cannot  take  pleasure 
in  them  as  formerly. 

Evan.  And  what  said  he  then  1 
Chr.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  my  bur- 
den, and  I  told  him  it  was  ease  that  I  sought. 
And  said  I,  I  am  therefore  going  to  yonder  gate 
to  receive  further  direction  how  I  may  get  to  the 
place  of  deliverance.  So  he  said  that  he  would 
show  me  a  better  way,  and  short,  not  so  attended 
with  difficulties  as  the  way,  sir,  that  you  set  me 
in ;  which  way,  said  he,  will  direct  you  to  a  gen- 
leman's  house  that  hath  skill  to  take  off  these  bur- 
ns :  so  I  believed  him,  and  turned  out  of  that 
y  into  this,  if  haply  I  might  be  soon  eased  of 
y  burden.  But  when  I  came  to  this  place,  and 
held  things  as  they  are,  I  stopped,  for  fear  (as  ] 
id)  of  danger :  but  I  now  know  not  what  to  do. 
Evan.  Then  said  Evangelist,  Stand  still  a  lit- 
e,  that  I  may  show  thee  the  words  of  God.  So 
stood  trembling.     Then  said  Evangelist,  "  See 


46  EVANGELIST    INSTRUCTS    HIM. 

that  ye  refuse  not  Him  that  speaketh : 

Evangelist  con-  •^  ^ 

yinces  him  of  for  if  they  escaped  not  who  refused 

his  error.  i  •  ^  ^  i  i 

mm  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more 
shall  not  we  escaj^e,  if  we  turn  away  from  Him 
that  speaketh  from  heaven."  Heb.  12  :  25.  He 
said,  moreover,  "  Now  the  just  shall  live  by  faith ; 
but  if  any  man  draw  back,  my  soul  shall  have  no 
pleasure  in  him."  Heb.  10  :  38.  He  also  did  thus 
apply  them;  Thou  art  the  man  that  art  running 
into  this  misery;  thou  hast  begun  to  reject  the 
counsel  of  the  Most  High,  and  to  draw  back  thy 
foot  from  the  way  of  peace,  even  almost  to  the 
hazarding  of  thy  perdition. 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  feet  as  dead, 
crying,  Wo  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."  Matt.  12  :  31.  "Be  not 
faithless,  but  believing."  John,  20  :  27.  Then  did 
Christian  again  a  little  revive,  and  stood  up  trem- 
bling, as  at  first,  before  Evangelist. 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying.  Give  more 
earnest  heed  to  the  things  that  I  shall  tell  thee 
of  I  will  now  show  thee  who  it  was  that  deluded 
tiiee,  and  who  it  was  also  to  whom  he  sent  thee. 
Mr.  World-  The  man  that  met  thee  is  one  World- 
lfescS"'2y  ly  Wiseman;  and  rightly  is  he  so 
Evangelist.  called ;  partly  because  he  savoreth  on- 
ly the  doctrine  of  this  world,  1  John,  4:5;  (there- 
fore he  always  goes  to  the  town  of  Blorality  to 


EVANGELIST    INSTRUCTS    HIM.  47 

church;)  and  partly  because  he  loveth  that  doc- 
trine best,  for  it  saveth  him  best  from  the  cross, 
Gal.  6  :  12,  and  because  he  is  of  this  carnal  tem- 
per, therefore  he  seeketh  to  pervert  my  ways, 
though  right.  Now  there  are  three  things  in  this 
man's  counsel  that  thou  must  utterly  abhor. 

1.  His  turning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

2.  His  laboring  to  render  the  cross  odious  to 
thee. 

3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  lead 
eth  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," 
Luke,  13  :  24,  the  gate  to  which  I  send  thee ;  "  for 
strait  is  the  gate  that  leadeth  unto  life  and  few 
there  be  that  find  it."  Matt.  7  :  13,  14.  From  this 
little  wicket-gate,  and  from  the  way  thereto,  hath 
this  vvdcked  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  laboring  to  ren- 
der the  cross  odious  unto  thee ;  for  thou  art  to  prefer 
it  before  the  treasures  of  Egypt.  Heb.  11  :  25,  26. 
Besides,  the  King  of  glory  hath  told  thee,  that  he 
that  will  save  his  life  shall  lose  it.  And  he  that 
conies  after  him,  and  hates  not  his  father,  and 


48  EVANGELIST    INSTRUCTS   HIM. 

mother,  and  wife  and  childi-en,  and  brethren,  and 
sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot  be 
his  disciple.  Mark,  S  :  38 ;  John,  12  :  25  ;  Matt. 
10  :  39  ;  Luke,  14  :  26.  I  say,  therefore,  for  man 
to  labor  to  persuade  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  way  that  leadeth  to  the  ministration  of  death. 
And  for  this  thou  must  consider  to  whom  he  sent 
thee,  and  also  how  unable  that  person  was  to  de- 
liver thee  from  thy  burden. 

He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease,  being  by 
name  Legahty,  is  the  son  of  the  bond- woman  which 
now  is,  and  is  in  bondage  with  her  children.  Gal. 
4  :  21-27,  and  is,  in  a  mystery,  this  mount  Sinai, 
which  thou  hast  feared  ^vill  fall  on  thy  head.  Now 
if  she  -oath  her  children  are  in  bondage,  how  canst 
thou  expect  by  them  to  be  made  free  1  This  Le- 
gality, therefore,  is  not  able  to  set  thee  free  from 
thy  burden.  No  man  was  as  yet  ever  rid  of  his 
burden  by  him ;  no,  nor  ever  is  like  to  be ;  ye 
cannot  be  justified  by  the  works  of  the  law ;  for 
by  the  deeds  of  the  law  no  man  living  can  be  rid 
of  his  burden.  Therefore  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman 
is  an  alien,  and  Mr.  Legality  is  a  cheat;  and  for 
his  son  Ci\'ility,  notA\'ithstanding  his  simpering 
looks,  he  is  but  a  hypocrite,  and  cannot  help  thee. 
Believe  me,  there  is  nothing  in  all  this  noise  that 


EVANGELIST    INSTRUCTS    HIM.  49 

thou  hast  heard  of  these  sottish  men,  but  a  design 

to  beguile  thee  of  thy  salvation,  by  turning  thee 

from  the  way  in  which  I  had  set  thee.    After  this, 

E  vangelist  called  aloud  to  the  heavens  for  conlir- 

-tion  of  what  he  had  said ;   and  with  that  thero 

:ne  words  and  fire  out  of  the  mountain  under 

^vaich  poor  Christian  stood,  which  made  the  hair 

"  his  flesh  stand  up.     The  words  were  thus  pro- 

aiced,  "  As  many  as  are  of  the  works  of  the  law 

under  the  curse ;  for  it  is  written,  Cursed  is 

c  .  c^ry  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  which 

are  %vTitten  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them." 

Gal.  3  :  10. 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death,  and 

began  to   cry   out  lamentably;    even  cursing  the 

'•^le  in  which  he  met  mth  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman  ; 

1  calling  himself  a  thousand  fools  for  hearkening 

nis  counsel.    He  also  was  greatly  ashamed  to 

:ik  that  this  gentleman's  arguments,  flowing  only 

fium  the  flesh,  should  have  the  prevalency  with 

him  so  far  as  to  cause  him  to  forsake  the  right  way. 

This  done,  he  applied  himself  again  to  Evangelist 

ill  words  and  sense  as  follows. 

Chr.  Sir,  what  think  you  ?  Is  there  any  hope  ? 
May  I  now  go  back,  and  go  up  to  the  wicket-gate  ? 
all  I  not  be  abandoned  for  this,  and  sent  back 
m  thence  ashamed  ?    I  am  sorry  I      ^  .  . 

1  Chnecan  xr.- 

e  hearkened  to  this  man  s  counsel ;    qnires  ifte may 

•      -I       r        '  0  yet  be  happy. 

^  may  my  sm  be  torgiven  f 

EvAX.  Then  said  Evangelist  to  him,  Thy  sin 

Pil.  Progreis.  4 


50  EVANGELIST    COMFORTS    HIM. 

is  very  great,  for  by  it  thou  hast  committed  two 
evils  ;  thou  hast  forsaken  the  way  that  is  good,  to 
tread  in  forbidden  paths.    Yet  will  the   „        ,.  ^ 

i  Evangelist  com- 

man  at  the  gate  receive  thee,  for  he   f^i'^s  him. 
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."    Psalm  2  :  12. 


THE     SECOND    STAGE. 


Then  did  Christian  address  himself  to  go  back ; 
and  Evangelist,  after  he  had  kissed  him,  gave  him 
one  smile,  and  bid  him  God  speed ;  so  he  went  on 
with  haste,  neither  spake  he  to  any  man  by  the 
way ;  nor  if  any  man  asked  him,  would  he  vouch- 
safe 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  had'  left  to  follow 
Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman's  counsel.  So,  in  process 
of  time,  Cliristian  got  up  to  the  gate.  Now,  over 
the  gate  there  was  written,  "  Knock,  and  it  shall 
be  opened  unto  you."    Mat.  7  :  7. 

He  knocked,  therefore,  more  than  once  or 
tv/ice,  saying. 


■^. 


Christian  at  the  Wicket  gate.— p.  50. 


ENTERS    AT    THE    GATE.  51 

May  I  now  enter  here  7     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. 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  persDn  to  the  gate, 
named  Goodwill,  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.  I  am  ^villing  with  all  my  The  gate  wiu be 
heart,  said  he  ;  and  ^vith  that  he  open-  ken°heaiSdsin' 
,ed  the  gate.  °^^ 

So  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other 
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  the  captain,  from  thence      „  _ 

^  '  _  batan  envies 

both  he  and  they  that  are  with  him  those  that  enter 

•'  the  strait  gate. 

shoot  arrows  at  those  that  come  up  to 

this   gate,  if  haply  they  may  die  before  they  can 

enter  in.     Then  said  Christian,  I  re-  ^,  .  .  ' 

*  Christian  enters 

joice  and  tremble.    So  when  he  was  the  gate  %vith joy 

.  -IT,.         *^d  trembling.    , 

got  m,  the  man  of  the  gate  asked  him 
who  directed  him  thither. 

Chr.  Evangelist  bid  me  come  hither  and  knock, 

I  did  :  and  he  said,  that  you,  sir,     Talk  between 

would  tell  me  what  I  must  do.  gSSSl  ""^ 


52  TALK    WITH    GOODWILL. 

i 

Good.  An  open  door  is  set  before  thee,  and  no  ' 
man  can  shut  it. 

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

Good.  But  how  is  it  that  you  came  alone  ] 

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

Good.  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  again  :  also,  some 
of  my  neighbors  stood  crying  and  calling  after  me 
to  return ;  but  I  put  my  fingers  in  my  ears,  and  so 
came  on  my  way. 

Good.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  you,  to 
persuade  you  to  go  back  1 

Chr.  Yes,  both  Obstinate  and  Pliable :  but 
when  they  saw  that  they  could  not  prevail.  Obsti- 
nate went  railing  back,  but  Pliable  came  with  mo 
a  little  way. 

Good.  But  why  did  he  not  come  through  1 

Chr.  We  indeed  came  both  together  until  we 
came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond,  into  the  which 
we  also  suddenly  fell.  And  then  was  my  neighbor 
Pliable  discouraged,  and  would  not  venture  far- 
ther. Wherefore,  getting  out  again  on  the  side 
next  to  his  own  house,  he  told  me  1 

A  man  may  nave  ' 

company  when  sliould  possoss  the  brave  countrv  alone 

he  sets  out  for  -^  •' 

heaven,  and  yet  for  him ;  SO  he  wcnt  his  way,  and  J 
go  er  one.  ^^^^  mine :  he  after  Obstinate  and  1 
to  this  gate. 


TALK    WITH    GOODWILL.  53 

Good.  Then  said  Goodwill,  Alas,  poor  man  ! 
is  the  celestial  glory  of  so  little  esteem  with  him, 
that  he  counteth  it  not  worth  running  the  hazard 
of  a  few  difficulties  to  obtain  it  1 

Chr.  Truly,  said  Christian,  I  have  said  the 
truth  of  Pliable  ;  and  if  I  should  also  christian accus- 
say  all  the  truth  of  myself,  it  will  ap-  fo^e  them^^at 
pear  there  is  no  betterment  betwixt  *^®  s^'^^- 
him  and  myself  It  is  true,  he  went  back  to  his 
own  house,  but  I  also  turned  aside  to  go  into  the 
way  of  death,  being  persuaded  thereto  by  the  car- 
nal argument  of  one  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman. 

Good.  O  !  did  he  light  upon  you  ]  What !  he 
would  have  had  you  seek  for  ease  at  the  hands  of 
Mr.  Legality !  They  are  both  of  them  a  very 
cheat.    But  did  you  take  his  counsel  ] 

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

Good.  That  mountain  has  been  the  death  of 
many,  and  will  be  the  death  of  many  more ;  it  is 
well  you  escaped  being  by  it  dashed  in  pieces. 

Chr.  Why  truly  I  do  not  know  what  had  be- 
come of  me  there,  had  not  Evangelist  happily  met 
me  again  as  I  was  musing  in  the  midst  of  my 
dumps  ;  but  it  was  God's  mercy  that  he  came  to  me 
again,  for  else  I  had  never  come  hither.  But  now 
I  am  come,  such  a  one  as  I  am,  more  fit  indeed 
for  death  by  that  mountain,  than  thus  to  stand  talk- 


5-i  TALK    WITH   GOOD\yiLL. 

ing  w-ith  my  Lord.  But,  O  !  what  a  favor  is  this  to 
me,  that  yet  I  am  admitted  entrance  here  ! 

Good.    We    make  no  objections  against   any, 
notwithstanding  all  that  they  have  done  before  the 
Christian  13 com-  come  hither;  they  in  no  wise  are  cast 
SJer^i^n  out.  John,  6  :  37.  And  therefore,  good 
his  way.  Christian,  come  a  little  way  with  me 

and  I  will  teach  thee  about  the  way  thou  must 
go.  Look  before  thee  ;  dost  thou  see  this  narrow 
way "?  That  is  the  way  thou  must  go.  It  w^s  cast 
up  by  the  patriarchs,  prophets,  Christ  and  his  apos- 
tles, and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  rule  can  make  it ; 
this  is  the  way  thou  must  go. 

Chr.  But,  said  Christian,  are  there 
"^^ZT^   no  turnings  nor  windings  by  which  a 
^*y-  stranger  may  lose  his  way  1 

Good.  Yes,  there  are  many  ways  butt  dowTi 
upon  this  ;  and  they  are  crooked  and  wide  :  but  thus 
thou  mayst  distinguish  the  right  from  the  wronof, 
the  right  only  being  straight  and  narrow.  Mat.  7:14. 
ChriBtianweary  Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that 
of hiB  burden.  Christian  asked  him  further,  if  he 
could  not  help  him  off  with  his  burden  that  was  upon 
his  back.  For  as  yet  he  had  not  got  rid  thereof ; 
nor  could  he  by  any  means  get  it  off  without  helj). 
„       .       ,  He  told  him,  **  As  to  thy  burden,  be 

There  is  no  de-  ^  ^  *'  ' 

Uverance  from  content  to  bear  it  until  thou  comest  to 

burden  of  sin,  the  placc  of  deliverauce ;  for  there  it 

and  ^bio*od^^of  will  fall  from  thy  back  of  itself.'* 
Christ.  Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his 


THE    INTERPRETER'S    HOUSE.  55 

loins,  and  to  address  himself  to  his  jcumey.  So 
e  other  told  him,  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some 
-tance  from  the  gate,  he  would  come  to  the  house 

of  the  Interpreter,  at  whose  door  he  should  knock, 

~'^d  he  would  show  him  excellent  things.  Then 
iristian  took  his  leave  of  his  friend,  and  he  again 

bid  him  God-speed. 

Then  he  went  on  till  he  came  at  the  house  of 

the   Interpreter,*  ^^he^e   he   knocked  „  .  . 

i  '  Cjinstian  comes 

over  and  over.    At  last  one  came  to   ^2  *^  ^'^^  ^^ 

the  Interpreter. 

the  door,  and  asked  who  was  there. 

Chr.  Sir,  here  is  a  traveller  who  was  bid  by 
an  acquaintance  of  the  good  man  of  this  house  to 
call  here  for  my  profit ;  I  would  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  show  rae  excellent " 
things,  such  as  would  be  helpful  to  me  on  my 
journey. 

IxTER.  Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Come  in ;  I 
will  show    thee    that   which   wiU   be  ^^  ^  ^^^^ 
profitable  to  thee.    So  he  commanded       tained. 
his  man  to  light  the  candle,    and  bid   m 

*  The  Holy  Si^iiit 


5G  THE    INTERPRETER'S    HOUSE. 

Christian  follow  him;  so  he  had  him  into  a  pri- 
vate room,  and  bid  his  man  open  a  door ;  the 
which  when  he  had  done,  Christian  saw  the  pic- 
^,  .  .  ture  of  a  very  o^rave  person  han^  up 

Christian  sees  a  ^  '^   °  ^        ^  , 

brave  picture,  against  the  Wall;  and  this  was  tho 
fashion  of  it :  it  had  eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven,  the 
best  of  books  in  its  hand,  the  law  of  truth  was 
written  upon  its  lips,  the  world  was  behind  its 
back ;  it  stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with  men,  and  a 
crown  of  gold  did  hang  over  its  head. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ] 
Inter.  The  man  whose  picture  this  is,  is  one 
of  a  thousand :  he  can  beget  children,  1  Cor. 
4  :  15,  travail  in  birth  with  children.  Gal.  4  :  19, 
and  nurse  them  himself  when  they  are  born.  And 
Meaning  of  the  where as  thou  soest  him  with  his  eyes 
picture.  ^/-j.  ^p  ^Q  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in 
his  hand,  and  the  law  of  truth  writ  on  his  lips,  it  is 
to  show  thee,  that  his  work  is  to  know,  and  unfold 
dark  things  to  sinners  ;  even  as  also  thou  seest  him 
stand  as  if  he  pleaded  with  men.  And  whereas 
thou  seest  the  world  -as  cast  behind  him,  and  that 
a  crown  hangs  over  his  head  ;  that  is  to  show  thee, 
that  slighting  and  despising  the  things  that  are  pre- 
sent, for  the  love  that  he  hath  to  his  Master's  ser- 
vice, he  is  sure  in  the  world  that  coraes 

WTiy  he  show-  '  i  r        i  •  t 

ed  him  this  next  to  have  glory  lor  Ins  reward. 
picuie  rs.  -^oWy  said  the  Interpreter,  I  have 
showed  thee  this  picture  first,  because  the  man 
whose  picture  this  is,  is  the   only  man  whom  the 


THE    interpreter's    HOUSE.  57 

Lord  of  the  place  whither  thou  art  going  hath  au- 
thorized to  be  thy  guide  in  all  difficult  places  thou 
mayst  meet  with  in  the  way  :  wherefore  take  good 
heed  to  what  I  have  showed  thee,  and  bear  well 
in  thy  mind  what  thou  hast  seen,  lest  in  thy  jour- 
ney thou  meet  with  some  that  pretend  to  lead  thee 
right,  but  their  way  goes  down  to  death. 

Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into 
a  very  large  parlor  that  was  full  of  dust  because 
never  swept;  the  which  after  he  reviewed  it  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  choked.  Then  said  the 
Intei-preter  to  a  damsel  that  stood  by,  *'  Bring 
hither  water,  and  sprinkle  the  room;"  the  which 
when  she  had  done,  it  was  swept  and  cleansed 
with  pleasure. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ] 
Inter.  The  Interpreter  answered,  This  parlor 
is  the  heart  of  a  man  that  was  never  sanctified  by 
the  sweet  grace  of  the  gospel.  The  dust  is  his 
original  sin,  and  inward  corruptions,  that  have  de- 
filed the  whole  man.  Me  that  began  to  sweep  at 
first,  is  the  law ;  but  she  that  brought  water,  and ' 
did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  gospel.  Now  whereas  thou 
sawest,  that  so  soon  as  the  first  began  to  sweep, 
the  dust  did  so  fly  about  that  the  room  by  him 
could  not  be  cleansed,  but  that  tho\i  wast  almost 
choked  therewith ;  this  is  to  show  thee,  that  the 


58  THE    INTERPRETER'S   HOUSE. 

law,  instead  of  cleansing  the  lieart  (by  its  working) 
from  sin,  doth  revive ;  Rom.  7:9;  put  strength 
into;  1  Cor.  15  :  56;  and  increase  it  in  the  soul; 
Rom.  5  :  20  ;  even  as  it  doth  discover  and  forbid 
it,  for  it  doth  not  give  power  to  subdue.  Again,  as 
thou  sawest  the  damsel  sprinkle  the  room  with 
water,  upon  which  it  was  cleansed  with  pleasure  ; 
this  is  to  show  thee,  that  when  the  gospel  comes 
in  the  sweet  and  precious  influences  thereof  to  the 
heart,  then,  I  say,  even  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel 
lay  the  dust  by  sprinkling  the  floor  with  water,  so 
is  sin  vanquished  and  subdued,  and  the  soul  made 
clean,  through  the  faith  of  it,  and  consequently  fit 
for  the  King  of  glory  to  inhabit.  John,  15  :  3  ; 
Eph.  5:26;  Acts,  15:9;  Rom.  16  :  25,  26. 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpre- 
„    ,       ,, .      ter  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  had  hira 

He  snowed  mm  "^ 

Passion  and  Pa-   into  a  little  room,  where  sat  two  little 

tience. 

children,  each  one  in  his  chair.  The 
name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  the  name  of  i 
the  other  Patience.  Passion  seemed  to  be  much 
discontented,  but  Patience  was  very  quiet.  Then 
Christian  asked,  **  What  is  the  reason  of  the  dis- 
Passion  will  Content  of  Passion  1"  The  Interpreter 
have  it  now.  answered,  "The  governor  of  them 
would  have  him  stay  for  his  best  things  till  the  be- 
Patience  is  for  ginning  of  the  next  year,  but  he  will 
waiting.  j^^^^  ^^^  ^^^  ^  ^^^  Patience  is  willing 

to  wait." 

Then  I  saw   that   one  came   to   Passion,  and 


THE    interpreter's    HOUSE.  59 

bi  ought  him  a  bag  of  treasure,  and  poured  it  down 
at  his  feet :  the  which  he  took  up  and  Passion  hath 
rejoiced  therein,  and  withal  laughed  ^ScJf^'fa^'Si?- 
Patience  to  scorn.  But  I  beheld  but  a  es  all  away. 
while,  and  he  had  lavished  all  away,  and  had  no- 
thing left  him  but  rags. 

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

Inter.  So  he  said,  These  two  lads  are  figures ; 
Passion  of  the  men  of  this  world,  and  Patience  of. 
the  men  of  that  which  is  to  come  :  for  as  here  thou 
Beest,  Passion  will  have  all  now,  this  year,  that  is 
to  say,  in  this  world ;  so  are  the  men  of  this  world ; 
they  must  have  all  their  good  things  now ;  they 
cannot  stay  till  the  next  year,  that  is,  until  the 
next  world,  for  their  portion  of  good.  That  pro- 
verb, "  A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two  in  the 
bush,"  is  of  more  authority  with  them 
than  are  all  the  divine  testimonies  of  man  for  a  bird 

in  the  hand. 

the  good  of  the  world  to  come.  But  as 

thou  sawest  that  he  had  quickly  lavished  all  away, 

and  had  presently  left  him  nothing  but  rags,  so 

will  it  be  with  all  such   men  at  the  end  of  this 

world. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  Now  I  see  that  Pa- 
tience has  the  best  wisdom,  and  that 

_  ,  Patience  had 

upon  many  accounts.    1.  Because  he   the   best  wis- 
stays  for  the  best  things.    2.  And  also     ^^' 
because  he  will  have  the  glory  of  his,  when  the 
other  has  nothing  but  rags. 


GO  THE    interpreter's    HOUSE. 

Inter.  Nay,  you  may  add  another,  to  wit,  the 
glory  of  the  next  world  will  never  wear  out;  but 
these  are  suddenly  gone.  Therefore  Passion  had 
not  so  much  reason  to  laugh  at  Patience  because 

Things   that  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^   g^°^  things  first,  as  Pa- 
8re  first  must   tieuce  will  have  to  lauo'h  at  Passioii 

give  place ;  but  ,  '-'  ^ 

things  that  are   bocauso  he  had  his   best  things  last 

lastai-e  lasting.    ^         „  .  .  .^        . 

lor  nrst  must  give  place  to  last,  be- 
cause last  must  have  his  time  to  come ;  but  last 
gives  place  to  nothing ;  for  there  is  not  another  to 
^.       ,   J  , .     succeed :   he  therefore  that  hath  his 

Dives    had    his  ' 

good  things  first,  portion  first,  must  needs  have  a  time 
to  spend  it ;  but  he  that  hath  his  portion  last,  must 
have  it  lastingly  :  therefore  it  is  said  of  Dives,  "  In 
thy  lifetime  thou  receivedst  thy  good  things,  and 
likewise  Lazarus  evil  things  ;  but  now  he  is  com^ 
forted  and  thou    art   tormented."    Luke,  16  :  25 

Chr.  Then  I  perceive  it  is  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  are  temporal,  but  the  things  that 

■fe'' Mt*tS   are  not  seen  are  eternal.  2  Cor.  4  :  18. 

porai.  jg^jj.  ti^Qugh  this  be  so,  yet  since  things 

r;jn'esent,  and  our  fleshy  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  Interpretei 


THE    interpreter's    HOUSE.  61 

took  Christian  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a 
place  where  was  a  fire  burning  against  a  wall,  and 
one  standing  by  it,  always  casting  much  water 
upon  it,  to  quench  it ;  yet  did  the  fire  burn  higher 
and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  1 
The  Interpreter  answered,  This  fire  is  the  work 
of  grace  that  is  wrought  in  the  heart ;  he  that  casts 
water  upon  it  to  extinguish  and  put  it  out,  is  the 
devil :  but  in  that  thou  seest  the  fire  notwithstand- 
ing 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  ves- 
sel of  oil  in  his  hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also  con- 
tinually 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  gi'ace,  maintains  the 
work  already  begun  in  the  heart ;  by  the  means 
of  which,  notwithstanding  what  the  devil  can  do, 
the  souls  of  his  people  prove  gracious  still.  2  Cor. 
12  :  9.     And  in  that    thou    sawest    that  the  maff 
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  built  a  stately  palace,  beautiful  to  be- 
hold ;  at  the  sight  of  which  Christian  was  greatly 
J  delighted.    He  saw  also  upon  the  top  thereof  cer- 


62  THE  interpreter's  house. 

tain  persons  walking,  who  were  clothed  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  ink-horn  before  him,  to  take  the 
names  of  them  that  should  enter  therein ;  he  saw 
also  that  in  the  doorway  stood  many  men  in  armoi 
to  keep  it,  being  resolved  to  do  to  the  men  thai 
would  enter  what  hurt  and  mischief  they  could 
Now  was  Christian  somewhat  in  amaze.  At  last 
when  every  man  started  back  for  fear  of  the  armec 
men,  Christian  saw  a  man  of  a  very  stout  counte 
_       ,.    ^  nance  come  up  to  the   man   that  sai 

The  valiant  _       ^ 

man,  there  to  write,  saying,  "  Set  dovni  mj 

name,  sir;"  the  which  when  he  had  done,  he  sav\| 
the  man  draw  his  sword,  and  put  a  helmet  on  hif 
head,  and  rush  toward  the  door  upon  the  armec- 
men,  who  laid  upon  him  with  deadly  force ;  bu } 
the  man,  not  at  all  discouraged,  fell  to  cutting  anc' 
hacking  riiost  fiercely.  So  after  he  had  receive c 
and  given  many  wounds  to  those  that  attempted 
to  keep  him  out,  he  cut  his  way  through  them  al  j 
and  pressed  forward  into  the  palace;  at  whicl' 
there  was  a  pleasant  voice  heard  from  those  tha 
were  within,  even  of  those  that  walked  upon  the 
top  of  the  palace,  saying, 

Come  in,  come  in, 

Eternal  glory  thou  shalt  wiu 


THE    interpreter's    HOUSE.  63 

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

Now,  said  Christian,  let  me  go  hence.  Nay, 
s!  ay,  said  the  Interpreter,  till  I  have  showed  thee  a 
Jittle  more,  and  after  that  thou  shalt  go  thy  way. 
So  he  took  him  by  the  hand  a^ain  and  ^      .  ,., 

•'  °  Despair  like  an 

led  him  into  a  very  dark  room,  where   iron  cage. 
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  1  At  which  the  Interpreter  bid  him  talk  with 
the  man. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  man.  What  art  thou  1 
The  man  answered,  I  am  what  I  was  not  once. 

Chr.  What  wast  thou  once  1 

Man.  The  man  said,  I  was  once  a  fair  and 
flourishing  professor,  Luke,  8  :  13  ;  both  in  mi;ie 
own  eyes  and  also  in  the  eyes  of  others  :  I  once 
was,  as  I  thought,  fair  for  the  celestial  city,  and 
had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughts  that  I  should 
get  thither. 

Chr.  Well,  but  what  art  thou  now  ? 

^Ian.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and  am 
ihut  up  in  it,  as  in  this  iron  cage.  I  cannot  get  out. 
Dh  now  I  cannot ! 

Chr.  But  how  camest  thou  into  this  condition  1 

Man.    I  left  off  to  watch  and  be  sober  ;  I  laid 


64  THE    INTERPRETER'S    HOUSE. 

tlie  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  hope  for  such  a  man  as  this  1  Ask  him, 
said  the  Interpreter. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  hope,  but 
you  must  be  kept  in  the  iron  cage  of  despair  1 

Man.  No,  none  at  all. 

Chr.  Why,  the  Son  of  the  blessed  is  very  pitiful. 

Man.  I  have  crucified  him  to  myself  afresh. 
Heb.  6:6.  I  have  despised  his  person.  Luke, 
19  :  14.  I  have  despised  his  righteousness  ;  I  have 
counted  his  blood  an  unholy  thing  ;  I  have  done 
despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace,  Heb.  10  :  29  ;  there- 
fore I  have  shut  myself  out  of  all  the  promises,  and 
there  now  remains  to  me  nothing  but  threatenings, 
dreadful  threatenings,  faithful  threatenings  of  cer- 
tain judgement  and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall 
devour  me  as  an  adversary. 

Chr.  For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this 
condition  ] 

Man.  For  the  lusts,  pleasures,  and  profits  o\ 
this  world  ;  in  the  enjoyment  of  which  I  did  thei 
promise  myself  much  delight ;  but  now  every  on( 
of  those  things  also  bite  me,  and  gnaw  me  like  n 
burning  worm. 


THE    INTERPRETER'S   HOUSE.  65 

Chr.  But  canst  thou  not  now  repent  and  turn  1 

Man.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance.  His 
word  gives  me  no  encouragement  to  believe  ;  yea, 
himself  hath  shut  me  up  in  this  iron  cage  :  nor  can 
all  the  men  in  the  world  let  me  out.  Oh  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  man's  misery  be  remembered  by  thee, 
and  be  an  everlasting  caution  to  thee. 

Chr.  Well,  said  Christian,  this  is  fearful !  God 
help  me  to  watch  and  to  be  sober,  and  to  pray  that 
I  may  shun  the  cause  of  this  man's  misery.  Sir,  is 
it  not  time  for  me  to  go  on  my  way  now  1 

Inter.  Tarry  till  I  shall  show  thee  one  thing 
more,  and  then  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again  and  led 
him  into  a  chamber  where  there  was  one  rising  out 
of  bed  ;  and  as  he  put  on  his  raiment,  he  shook 
and  trembled.  Then  said  Christian,  Why  doth  this 
man  thus  tremble  1  The  Intei-preter  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  'hundered  and  lightened 
in  most  fearful  wise,  that  it  put  me  into  an  agony. 
So  I  looked  up  in  my  dream,  and  saw  the  clouds 
rack,  at  an  unusual  rate ;  upon  which  I  heard  a 
great  sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  man  sit- 
ting upon  a  cloud,  attended  with  the  thousands  of 

Pil.  Progress.  5 


66  THE    INTERPRETER'S    HOUSE. 

heaven ;  they  were  all  in  flaming  fire ;  also  the 
heavens  were  in  a  burning  flame.  I  heard  then  a 
voice,  saying,  '  Arise,  ye  dead,  and  come  to  judge- 
ment.' And  v^ith  that  the  rocks  rent,  the  graves 
opened,  and  the  dead  that  were  therein  came 
forth  :  some  of  them  were  exceeding  glad,  and 
looked  upward ;  and  some  sought  to  hide  them- 
selves 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. 
1  Cor.  155  1  Thes.  4:16;  Jude,  15;  John, 
5  :  28,  29  ;  2  Thes.  1  :  8-10;  Rev.  20  :  11-14  ; 
Isa.  26  :  21  ;  Micah,  7  :  16,  17;  Psalm  5:4; 
50  :  1-3  ;  Mai.  3  :  2,  3  ;  Dan.  7  :  9,  30.  I  heard 
it  also  proclaimed  to  them  that  attended  on  the 
man  that  sat  on  the  cloud,  *  Gather  together  the 
tares,  the  chaff,  and  stubble,  and  cast  them  into' 
the  burning  lake.'  Matt.  3:12;  18  :  30  ;  24  :  30  ; 
Mai.  4:1.  And  with  that  the  bottomless  j^it  open- 
ed, 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.'  Luke,  3  :  17.  And  with  that  I  saw 
many  catched  up  and  carried  away  into  the  clouds  ; 
but  I  was  left  behind.  1  Thes.  4  :  16,  17.  I  also 
sought  to  hide  myself,  but  I  could  not ;  for  the  man 


THE    interpreter's   HOUSE.  67 

that  sat  upon  the  cloud  still  kept  his  eye  upon  rae  : 
my  sins  also  came  into  my  mind ;  and  my  con- 
science did  accuse  me  on  every  side.  Rom.  2  : 
14,  15.    Upon  this  I  awakened  from  my  sleep." 

Chr.  But  what  was  it  that  made  you  so  afraid 
of  this  sio^ht  1 

Man.  Why  I  thought  that  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  con- 
science too  afflicted  me ;  and,  as  I  thought,  the  Judge 
had  always  his  eye  upon  me,  showing  indignation 
in  his  countenance. 

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

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

Inter.  Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy  mind, 
that  they  may  be  as  a  goad  in  thy  sides,  to  prick 
thee  forward  in  the  way  thou  must  go.  Then 
Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins,  and  to  address 
himself  to  his  journey.  Then  said  the  Interpreter, 
"  The  Comforter  be  always  with  thee,  good  Chris- 
tian, to  guide  thee  in  the  way  that  leads  to  the 
city."  So  Christian  went  on  his  way,  saying, 


k 


Hei-e  I  have  seen  things  rare  and  profitable, 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful,  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  wfiat  I  have  begun  to  take  in  hand 
Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  showed  me  were,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  O  good  Interpreter,  to  thee. 


68  LOSES    HIS    BURDEN. 


THE     THIRD     STAGE. 

Now  T  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  highway  up 
which  Christian  was  to  go  was  fenced  on  either 
side  with  a  wall,  and  that  wall  was  called  Salva- 
tion. Isa.  26  :  1.  Up  this  way  therefore  did  bur 
dened  Christian  run,  but  not  without  great  diffi- 
culty, 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,  tliat  just  as  Christian  came  up 
with  the  cross  his  burden  loosed  from  off  his 
shoulders,  and  fell  from  off  his  back,  and  began  to 
tumble,  and  so  continued  to  do  till  it  came  to  the 
mouth  of  the  sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  saw 
it  no  more. 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and 
When  God  re-  said  with  a  merry  heart,  "  He  hath 
^uiraSi^^b^r-  given  me  rest  by  his  sorrow,  and  life 
SSie'Lrfeal  by  his  death."  Then  he  stood  still  a 
for  joy.  while  to  look  and  wonder;  for  it  was 

very  surprising  to  him  that  the  sight  of  the  cross 
should  thus  ease  him  of  his  burden.  He  looked, 
therefore,  and  looked  again,  even  till  the  springs 
that  were  in  his  head  sent  the  waters  down  his 
cheeks.  Zee.  12  :  10.  Now  as  he  stood  looking 
and  weeping,  behold,  three  Shining  Ones  came  to 
him,   and  saluted  him  with  "  Peace  be  to  thee." 


'*  He  looked,  tlierefore,  and  looked  again."— p.  68. 


WEEPING    AND    REJOICING.  69 

So  the  first  said  to  him,  "  Thy  sins  be  forgiven 
thee,"  Mark,  2:5;  the  second  stripped  him  of  his 
rao-s,  and  clothed  him  with  chano^e  of  raiment, 
Zee.  3  :  4 ;  the  third  also  set  a  mark  on  his  fore- 
head, Eph.  1  :  13,  and  gave  him  a  roll  with  a  seal 
upon  it,  which  he  bid  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and 
that  he  should  give  it  in  at  the  celestial  gate :  sc 
they  went  their  way.  Then  Christian  gave  three 
leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on  singing, 

Thus  far  did  I  come  laden  with  my  sin  ; 

Nor  could  aught  ease  the  grief  that  I  was  in, 

Till  I  came  hither :  what  a  place  is  this  !  A  Christian  can 

Must  here  be  the  beginning  of  my  bliss  ?  foSe,  wh°en^God 

Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back  ?  doth    give  him 

, ,       ,  ,  .  Ill-  ,1    joy  iQ  his  heart. 

Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me  crack? 

Blest  cross  !  blest  sepulchre  !  blest  rather  be 
The  Man  that  there  was  put  to  shame  for  me ! 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  he  went  on  thus, 
even  until  he  came  at  the  bottom,  where  he  sav/, 
a  little  out  of  the  way,  three  men  fast 
asleep,  with  fetters  upon  their  heels.   and^Presump- 
The  name  of  the  one  was  Simple,  of  "°°* 
another  Sloth,  and  of  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,  Prov.  23  :  34,  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 


70  SLOTH    AND    PRESUMPTION. 

off  with  your  irons.  He  also  told  them,  If  he  that 
goeth  about  like  a  roaring  lion,  1  Pet.  5  :  8,  comes 
by,  you  will  certainly  become  a  prey  to  his  teeth. 
There  is  no  per-  With  that  they  lookecl  upon  him,  and 
i?GodVeneth  ^^o^^  ^^  I'^ply  in  this  sort:  Simple 
not  the  eyes.  gaid,  I  see  no  danger;  Sloth  said,  Yet 
a  little  more  sleep  ;  and  Presumption  said.  Every 
tub  must  stand  upon  its  own  bottom.  And  so  they 
lay  down  to  sleep  again,  and  Christian  went  on 
his  way. 

Yet  he  was  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  awa- 
kening of  them,  counselling  of  them,  and  proffer- 
ing 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  nar- 
row way ;  and  they  made  up  apace  to  him.  The 
name  of  the  one  was  Formalist,  and  the  name  of 
the  other  Hypocrisy.  So  as  I  said,  they  drew  up 
unto  him,  who  thus  entered  with  them  into  discourse. 

Chr.  Gentlemen,  whence  came  you,  and  whi- 

Christian  talks    ther  do  yOU  gO  1 

with  them.  Form,  and  Hyp.  We  were  born  in 

the  land  of  Vain-glory,  and  are  going  for  praise  to 
Mount  Zion. 

Chr.  Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  gate  which 
standeth  at  the  beginning  of  the  way  1  Know  ye 
not  that  it  is  written,  that  "he  that  cometh  not  in 
by  the  door,  but  climbeth  up  some  other  way,  the 


FORMALIST    AND    HYPOCRISY.  71 

same  is  a  thief  and  a  robber]"  John,  10  :  1. 
Form,  and  Hyp.  They  said,  that  to  go  to  the 
^ate  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 : 
for  what  they  did  they  had  custom  for,  and  could 
produce,  if  need  were,  testimony  that  would  wit- 
ness it,  for  more  than  a  thousand  years. 

Chr.  But,  said  Christian,  will  you  stand  a  trial 
at  law  \ 

Form,  and  Hyp.  They  told  him,  that  custom, 
it  beinff  of  so  lono;-  standino^  as  above  a  _,,      , 

o  o  o  They  that  come 

thousand  years,  would  doubtless  now   j^^o  the  way, 

•^  .  .but  not  by  the 

be  admitted  as  a  thin^  le^al  by  an  im-   door, thmk that 
partial  judge :  and  besides,  said  they,   something    in 

...  ^  •    ^      4.1  1     ^  ^^        '       vindication    of 

It  we  get  into  the  way,  what  matter  is  their  own prac- 
it  which  way  we  get  in  1  If  we  are  in, 
we  are  in  :  thou  art  but  in  the  way,  who,  as  we 
perceive,  came  in  at  the  gate  ;  and  we  also  are  in 
the  way,  that  came  tumbling  over  the  wall :  where- 
in now  is  thy  condition  better  than  ours  1 

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 


72  FORMALIST    AND    HYPOCRISY. 

way  :  therefore  I  doubt  you  will  not  be  found  true 
meTii  at  the  end  of  the  way.  You  come  in  by  your- 
selves 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  that  they  should  as  conscien- 
tiously do  them  as  he.  Therefqre,  said  they,  we 
see  not  wherein  thou  differest  from  us,  but  by  the 
coat  that  is  on  thy  back,  which  was,  as  we  trow, 
g-iven  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.  Gal. 
2  :  16.  And  as  for  this  coat  that  is  on  my  back,  it 
was  given  me  by  the  Lord  of  the  place  whither  I 
go  :  and  that,  as  you  say,  to  cover  my  nakedness 
with.  And  I  take  it  as  a  token  of  kindness  to  me  ; 
for  I  had  nothing  but  rags  before.  And 

Christian  has  got    ^        .  .,  ^  „ 

his  lord's  coat    bcsides  tlius  1  comiort  myself  as  I  go, 

on  his  back,  and     -,,.,_,  _ 

is  comforted  burely,  thmk  1,  when  1  come  to  the 
gate  of  the  city,  the  Lord  thereof  will 
know  me  for  good,  since  I  have  his  coat  on  my 
back  ;  a  coat  that  he  gave  me  freely  in  the  day 
He  is  comforted  that  he  stript  mo  of  my  rags.  I  have, 
Sl^k'^d  his  moreover,  a  mark  in  my  forehead,  of 
*°^^-  which  perhaps  you  have  taken  no  no- 


THE    HILL    DIFFICULTY.  73 

tice,  which  one  of  my  Lord's  most  intimate  asso- 
ciates fixed  there  in  the  day  that  my  burden  fell 
off  my  shoulders.  I  will  tell  you,  moreover,  that  1 
had  then  given  me  a  roll  sealed,  to  comfort  me  by 
reading  as  I  go  on  the  way  ;  I  was  also  bid  to  give 
it  in  at  the  celestial  gate,  in  token  of  my  certain 
going  in  after  it ;  all  which  things  I  doubt  you 
v/ant,  and  want  them  because  you  came  not  in  at 
the  gate. 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer ;  only 
they  looked  upon  each  other,  and  laughed.  Then  I 
saw  that  they   went   all   on,    save    that  ^^  .  .     , 

•'  '  Christian  has 

Christian  kept  before,  who  had  no  more  talk  with  him- 

.  .  self. 

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  re- 
freshed. 

I  beheld  then,  that  they   all   went  on  till  they 
came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  Difficulty, 
at  the  bottom  of  which   there  was  a  the  hiii   Diffi- 
spring.     There  were  also  in  the  same    ^^^^' 
place  two  other  ways    besides    that   which  came 
straight  from  the  gate  :  one  turned  to  the  left  hand, 
and  the  other  to  the  right,  at  the  bottom  of  the 
i  hill ;  but  the  narrow  way  lay  right  up  the  hill,  and 
!  the  name  of  the  going  up  the  side  of  the  hill  is 
i  called  Difficulty.  Christian  now  went  to  the  spring, 
Isa.  49  :  10,  and  drank  thereof  to  refresh  himself, 
and  then  began  to  go  up  the  hill,  saying, 


74  HE    CLIMBS    THE    HILL. 

The  hill,  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,  let's  neither  faint  nor  fear 
Better,  though  difficuU,  the  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  were  two  other  ways  to  go ,' 
and  supposing  also  that  these  two  ways  might 
meet  again  with  that  up  which  Christian  went  on 
the  other  side  of  the  hill ;  therefore  they  were  re- 
solved to  go  in  those  ways.  Now  the  name  of  one 
of  those  ways  was  Danger,  and  the  name  of  the 

other  Destruction.  So  the  one  took  the 
turain|"lm  of  way  which  is  called  Danger,  which  led 
t  e  way.  j^^^^  ^^^^  ^  great  wood ;  and  the  other 

took  directly  up  the  way  to  Destruction,  which 
led  him  into  a  wide  field,  full  of  dark  mountains, 
where  he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose  no  more. 

I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up 
the  hill,  where   I  perceived  he  fell  from  running 

to  going,  and  from  going  to  clamber- 
A  ward  of     ing  upon  his  hands  and  his  knees,  be- 
grace.  s  causo  of  the   stoopness  of  the  place. 

Now  about  the  midway  to  the  top  of  the  hill  was 
a  pleasant  Arbor,  made  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  for 
the  refreshment  of  weary  travellers.  Thither,  there- 
fore. Christian  got,  where  also  he  sat  down  to  rest 
him :  then  he  pulled  his  roll  out  of  his  bosom,  and 


THE    ARBOR.  75 

read  therein  to  his  comfort :  he  also  now  beo^an 
afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  coat  or  garment  that 
was  given  to  him  as  he  stood  by  the  cross.  Thus 
pleasing  himself  awhile,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slu]n- 
ber,  and  thence  into  a  fast  sleep,  w^liich  detain cl 
him  in  that  place  until  it  was  almost 
night;  and  in  his  sleep  his  roll  fell  out  g^io"^^' 
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."  Prov.  6  :  6.  And  with  that  Chris- 
tian 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  amain ;  the  name  of 
the  one  w^as  Timorous,  and  of  the  other 
Mistrust :  to  whom  Christian  said,  with"  Mistrust 
Sirs,  what's  the  matter  1  you  run  the  ^"^  i^o^o"^- 
wrong  way.  Timorous  answered,  that  they  were 
going  to  the  city  of  Zion,  and  had  got  up  that  dif- 
ficult place  :  but,  said  he,  the  farther  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  cou- 
ple of  lions  in  the  way,  whether  sleeping  or  wak- 
ing we  know  not,  and  we  could  not  think,  if  we 
came  within  reach,  but  they  would  presently  pull 
us  in  pieces. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian,  You  make  me  afraid; 


76  HE    MISSES   HIS    ROLL. 

but  whither  shall  T  fly  to  be  safe  ]  If  I  go  back  to 
my  own  country,  that  is  prepared  for  fire  and 
brimstone,  and  I  shall  certainly  perish  there  ;  if  I 
can  get  to  the  celestial  city,  I  am  sure  to  be  in 
„,  .  .     ,  ,      safety  there  :  I  must  venture.    To  ffo 

Christian  snakes  >'  ^  ^  ° 

otf  fear.  back  is  nothing  but  death  :  to  go  for- 
ward is  fear  of  death  and  life  everlasting  beyond 
it  :  I  will  yet  go  forward.  So  Mistrust  and  Timo- 
rous ran  dov/n  the  hill,  and  Christian  went  on  his 
way.  But  thinking  again  of  what  he  had  heard 
from  the  men,  he  felt  in  his  bosom  for  his  roll,  that 
Christian  misses  ^®  might  read  therein,  and  be  comfort- 
|;;"°3^J^\«J-^j^  ed;  but  he  felt,  and  found  it  not. 
comforted.  Then  was  Christian  in  great  distress, 

and  knew  not  what  to  do  ;  for  he  wanted  that 
which  used  to  relieve  him,  and  that  which  should 
He  is  perplexed  havo  been  his  pass  into  the  celestial 
forhisrou.  ^-^.^^  jjere,  therefore,  he  began  to  be 
much  perplexed,  and  knew  not  what  to  do.  At 
last  he  bethought  himself  that  he  had  slept  in  the 
arbor  that  is  on  the  side  of  the  hill ;  and  falling 
down  upon  his  knees,  he  asked  God  forgiveness 
for  that  foolish  act,  and  then  went  back  to  look 
for  his  roll.  But  all  the  way  he  went  back,  who 
can,  sufficiently  set  forth  the  sorrow  of  Christian's 
heart  ]  Sometimes  he  sighed,  sometimes  he  wept, 
and  oft  en-times  he  chid  himself  for  being  so  foolish 
to  fall  asleep  in  that  place,  which  was  erected  only 
for  a  little  refreshment  from  his  weariness.  Thus, 
therefore,  he  went  back,  carefully  looking  on  this 


FINDS    HIS    ROLL.  77 

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  soitow  the 
more,  by  brinojinoj  ao^ain  even  afresh,    ^^  .  . 

.  °     ^.      °  .  .  Christian     he- 

his  evil  of  sleeping  unto  his  mind,  waiis  his  foot 
Rev.  2:  4;  1  Thess.  5  :  6-8.  Thus,  '"""=""""°- 
therefore,  he  now  went  on,  bewailing  his  sinful  sleep, 
saying,  O  vvi-etched  man  that  I  am,  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  re- 
lief of  the  spirits  of  pilgi'ims  !  How  many  steps 
have  I  taken  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  sorrow,  which  I  might 
have  trod  with  delight  had  it  not  been  for  this 
sinful  sleep.  How  far  might  I  have  been  on  my 
way  by  this  time  !  I  am  made  to  tread  those 
steps  thrice  over,  which  I  needed  not  to  have 
ti'od  but  once :  yea,  now  also  I  am  like  to  be  be- 
nighted, for  the  day  is  almost  spent.  O  that  I  had 
not  slept ! 

Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to  the  arbor 
again,  where  for  a  while  he  sat  down 


Chi-istian   find- 

would  have    it)   looking    sorrowfully 


and  wept ;  but  at  last  (as  Providence   eth    his    roll 

■^  ^  ^  where  he  lost  it 


78  THE    PALACE    BEAUTIFUL. 

down  under  the  settle,  there  he  espied  his  roll,  the 
which  he  with  trembling  and  haste  catched  up,  and 
put  it  into  his  bosom.  But  who  can  tell  how  joy- 
ful this  man  was  when  he  had  gotten  his  roll  again  ] 
For  this  roll  was  the  assurance  of  his  life,  and  ac- 
ceptance at  the  desired  haven.  Therefore  he  laid 
it  up  in  his  bosom,  gave  thanks  to  God  for  direct- 
ing his  eye  to  the  place  where  it  lay,  and  with  joy 
and  tears  betook  himself  again  to  his  journey.  But 
oh  how  nimbly  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  vani- 
ty 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  be- 
nighted in  my  journey  !  I  must  walk  without  the 
sun,  darkness  must  cover  the  path  of  my  feet  and  I 
must  hear  the  noise  of  the  doleful  creatures,  be- 
cause of  my  sinful  sleep  !  Now  also  he  remem- 
bered the  story  that  Mistrust  and  Timorous  told 
him  of,  how  they  were  frighted  with  the  sight  of  the 
lions.  Then  said  Christian  to  himself  again.  These 
beasts  range  in  the  night  for  their  prey,  and  if  they 
should  meet  with  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I 
shift  them  1  How  should  I  escape  being  by  them 
lorn  in  pieces  1  Thus  he  went  on  his  way.  But 
while  he  was  bewailing  his  unhappy  miscarriage  he 
lift  up  his  eyes,  and  behold  there  was  a  very  state 
iy  palace  before  him,  the  name  of  which  was  Beau- 
tiful, and  it  stood  by  the  highway-side. 


Behold  there  was  a  very  stately  j ahice  before  him." — p.  7J3. 


THE    LIONS.  79 

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  the  Porter's  lodge  ;  and  looking  very 
narrowly  before  him  as  he  went,  he  espied  two 
lions  in  the  way.  Now,  thought  he,  I  see  the  dan- 
gers that  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were  driven  back 
by.  (The  lions  were  chained,  but  he  saw  not  the 
chains.)  Then  he  was  afraid,  and  thought  also 
himself  to  go  back  after  them ;  for  he  thought 
nothing  but  death  was  before  him.  But  the  Por- 
ter at  the  lodge,  whose  name  is  Watchful,  per- 
ceiving that  Christian  made  a  halt,  as  if  he  would 
go  back,  cried  unto  him,  saying.  Is  thy  strength  so 
small  1  Mark,  4  :  40.  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  direc- 
tions of  the  Porter,  he  heard  them  roar,  but  they 
did  him  no  harm.  Then  he  clapped  his  hands,  and 
went  on  till  he  came  and  stood  before  the  gate 
where  the  Porter  was.  Then  said  Christian  to  the 
Porter,  Sir,  what  house  is  this  ]  and  may  I  lodge 
here  to-night  ]  The  Porter  answered.  This  house 
was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  and  he  built  it 
for  the  relief  and  security  of  Pilgi'ims.  The  Porter 


80  TALK   WITH   THE    PORTER. 

also  asked  whence  he  was,  and  whither  he  was  going. 

Chr.  I  am  come  fi'om  the  city  of  Destruction, 
and  am  going  to  Mount  Zion  :  but  because  tlie  sun 
is  now  set,  I  desire,  if  I  may,  to  lodge  here  to-night. 

Port.  What  is  your  name  1 

Chr.  My  name  is  now  Christian,  but  my  name 
at  the  first  was  Graceless  :  I  came  of  the  race  of 
Japheth,  whom  God  will  persuade  to  dwell  in  the 
tents  of  Shem.    Gen.  9  :  27. 

Port.  But  how  doth  it  happen  that  you  come 
BO  late  1     The  sun  is  set. 

Chr.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that,  wretch- 
ed 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  brow  of 
the  hill :  and  then  feeling  for  it,  and  not  finding  it, 
I  was  forced  with  soitow  of  heart  to  go  back  to 
the  place  where  I  slept  my  sleep,  where  I  found 
it ;  and  now  I  am  come. 

Port.  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,  accord- 
ing to  the  rules  of  the  house.  So  Watchful  the 
Porter  rang  a  bell,  at  the  sound  of  which  came 
out  of  the  door  of  the  house  a  gi-ave  and  beautiful 
damsel,  named  Discretion,  and  asked  why  she  was 
called. 

The  Porter  answered,  This  man  is  on  a  journey 
from  the  city  of  Destruction  to  Mount  Zion ;  but 


TALK    WITH   DISCRETION.  Si 

being  weary  and  benighted,  he  asked  nie  if  he 
might  lodge  here  to-night :  so  I  told  him  I  would 
call  for  thee,  who,  after  discourse  had  with  him, 
mayst  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  at  last  she 
asked  his  name.  So  he  said.  It  is  Christian  :  and 
I  have  so  much  the  more  a  desire  to  lodge  here 
to-night,  because,  by  what  I  perceive,  this  place 
was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  for  the  relief  and 
security  of  pilgrims.  So  she  smiled,  but  the  water 
$tood  in  her  eyes ;  and  after  a  little  pause  she  said, 
I  will  call  forth  two  or  three  more  of  the  family. 
So  she  ran  to  the  door,  and  called  out  Prudence, 
Piety,  and  Charity,  who,  after  a  little  more  dis- 
course with  him,  had  him  into  the  family ;  and 
many  of  them  meeting  him  at  the  threshold  of  the 
house,  said.  Come  in,  thou  blessed  of  the  Lord ; 
this  house  was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  on 
purpose  to  entertain  such  pilgrims  in.  Then  he 
bowed  his  head,  and  followed  them  into  the  house 
So  when  he  was  come  in  and  sat  down,  they  gave 
him  something  to  drink,  and  consented  together 
that,  until  supper  was  ready,  some  of  them  should 
have  some  particular  discourse  with  Christian,  for 
the  best  improvement  of  time  ;  and  they  appoint- 

Pil.  Progress.  Q 


82  TALK    WITH   PIETY. 

ed  Piety,  Prudence,  and  Charity  to  discourse  with 
him  ;  and  thus  they  began. 

Piety.  Come,  good  Christian,  since  we  have 
Piety  discourses  hoon  SO  loving  to  you,  as  to  receivo  you 

^.-ith  him.  jj^^Q  Q^j,  house  this  night,  let  us,  if  j^er- 
haps  we  may  better  ourselves  thereby,  talk  with 
you  of  all  things  that  have  happened  to  you  in 
your  pilgi-image. 

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

Piety.  What  moved  you  at  first  to  betake 
yourself  to  a  pilgi'im's  life  1 

Chr.  I  was  driven  out  of  my  native  country  by 

a  dreadful   sound  that   was   in   mine 

wardrivj^o^t  ears  ;  to  wit,  that  unavoidable  destruc- 

coun^^   °^''   tion  did  attend  me  if  I  abode  in  that 

place  where  I  was. 

Piety.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you  came 
out  of  your  country  this  way  1 

Chr.  It  was  as  God  would  have  it ;  for  when 
I  was  under  the  fears   of  destruction  I  did  not  I 
know  whither  to  go;  but  by  chance 

How  he  got  in-      ,  ^  , 

to  the  way  to   there  came  a  man,   even  to  me,  as  1 
^°°"  was  trembling    and   weeping,    whose 

name  is  Evangelist,  and  he  directed  me  to  the 
Wicket-Gate,  which  else  I  should  never  have 
found,  and  so  set  me  into  the  way  that  hath  led 
me  directly  to  this  house. 

Piety.  But  did  you  not  come  by  the  house  of 
the  Interpreter] 


I 


TALK    WITH   PIETY.  83 

Chr.  Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the 
remembrance  of  which  will  stick  by 
me  as  long  as  I  live,  especially  three  what  he  saw  iu 
things  ;  to  wit,  how  Christ,  in  despite  "  ^^^" 
of  Satan,  maintains  his  work  of  grace  in  the  heart; 
how  the  man  had  sinned  himself  quite  out  of 
hopes  of  God's  mercy  :  and  also  the  dream  of  him 
that  thought  in  his  sleep  the  day  of  judgement 
was  come. 

Piety.  Why,  did  you  hear  him  tell  his  dream  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  and  a  dreadful  one  it  was,  I  thought  ; 
it  made  my  heart  ache  as  he  was  telling  of  it ;  but 
yet  I  am  glad  I  heard  it. 

Piety.  Was  this  all  you  saw  at  the  house  of 
the  Interpreter  ] 

Chr.  No  ;  he  took  me  and  had  me  where  he 
showed  me  a  stately  palace,  and  how  the  people 
were  clad  in  gold  that  were  in  it ;  and  how  there 
came  a  venturous  man,  and  cut  his  way  through 
the  armed  men  that  stood  in  the  door  to  keep  him 
out ;  and  how  he  was  bid  to  come  in,  and  win  eter- 
nal glory.  Methought  those  things  did  ravish  my 
heart  I  would  have  stayed  at  that  good  man's 
house  a  twelvemonth,  but  that  I  knew  I  had  far- 
llier  to  go. 

Piety.  And  what  saw  you  else  in  the  way  1 

Chr.  Saw*?  Why  I  went  but  a  little  farther, 

and  I  saw  one,   as  I   thought  in  my  mind,  hang 

,  bleeding  upon  a  tree ;   and  the  very  sight  of  him 

made  my  burden  fall  off  my  back ;  for  I  groaned 


84  TALK    WITH   PIETY. 

under  a  very  heavy  burden,  but  then  it  fell  down 
from  off  me.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  me,  for  I 
never  saw  such  a  thing  before  :  yea,  and  while  I 
stood  looking  up,  (for  then  I  could  not  forbear 
looking,)  three  Shining  Ones  came  to  me.  One  of 
them  testified  that  my  sins  were  forgiven  me,  an- 
other stripped  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.) 

Piety.  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  1  I  also  saw  Formality  and  Hypocrisy 
come  tumbling  over  the  wall,  to  go,  as  they  pre- 
tended, to  Zion ;  but  they  were  quickly  lost,  even 
as  I  myself  did  tell  them,  but  they  would  not  be- 
lieve. But,  above  all,  I  found  it  hard  work  to  get 
up  this  hill,  and  as  hard  to  come  by  the  lions* 
mouths  ;  and,  truly,  if  it  had  not  been  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  I  thank  God  I  am  here,  and  thank  you 
for  receiving  me. 

Then  Prudence    thought   good   to  ask  him  a 


TALK    WITH    PRUDENCE.  85 

few  questions,   and  desired  his  answer  to  them. 
Pr.  Do  you  not  think  sometimes  of 

,  n  1  0      Prudence  dis- 

the  country  from  whence  you  came  .'    courses  with 

Chr.  Yea ;  but  with  much  shame      ""* 
and  detestation.     Truly,  if  I  had  been  mindful  of 
that  country  from  whence  I  came  out, 

T        .    1      ,  11  .  ,  Christian's 

I  might  have  had  opportunity  to  have  thoughts  of  his 
returned,  but  now  I  desire  a  better  '^^^^^  ^^^^  ^' 
country,  that  is,  a  heavenly  one.  Heb.  11  :  15,  16. 

Pr.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with  you  some 
of  the  things  that  then  you  were  conversant 
withal  1 

Chr.  Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will;  espe- 
cially my  inward  and  carnal  cogitations,  wnth  which 
all  my  countrymen,  as  well  as  myself,  were  de- 
lighted. But  now  all  those  things  are  my  grief; 
and  mio^ht  I  but   choose   mine   own      ov  •  *^    . 

o  ^  Christian's 

things,  I  would  choose  never  to  think         choice, 
of  those  things  more  :  but  when  I  would  be  a  do- 
ing that  which  is  best,  that  which  is  worst  is  with 
me.  Rom.  7  :  15,  21. 

Pr.  Do  you  not  find  sometimes  as  if  those  things 
were  vanquished,  which  at  other  times  are  your 
perplexity  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom;  but  they 
are  to  me  golden  hours  in  which  such  christian's  gold- 
things  happen  to  me.  en  hours. 

Pr.  Can  you  remember  by  what  means  you 
find  your  annoyances  at  times  as  if  they  were 
vanquished  ] 


86  PRUDENCE,    AND    CHARITY. 

Chr.  Yes  ;  when  I  think  what  I  saw  at  the 
iiow  Christian  cross,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when  I  look 
gets  power  a-   ^pon  mv  broidered  coat,  that  will  do 

gainst  his   cor-        c  J 

i-uptions.  '  it ;  and  when  I  look  into  the  roll  that 
I  carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do  it ;  and  when 
my  thoughts  wax  warm  about  whither  I  am  going, 
that  will  do  it. 

Pr.  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 

would    be   at   I  hope  to  be  rid  of  all  those  things  that 

Mount  Zion.         ^     ^^  '      i 

to  this  day  are  m  me  an  annoyance  t^ 
me :  there  they  say  there  is  no  death,  Isa.  25  :  S  : 
Rev.  21  :  4;  and  there  I  shall  dwell  with  such 
company  as  I  like  best.  For,  to  tell  you  the  truth, 
I  love  Him  because  I  was  by  him  eased  of  my  bur- 
den; and  I  am  weary  of  my  inward  sickness.  I  would 
fain  be  where  I  shall  die  no  more,  and  with  the  com- 
pany that  shall  continually  cry.  Ho??/,  Holy,  Holy. 
Then    said    Charit}'-    to    Christian, 

Charity  dis-      ^^  c       '^  •    j 

courses  with  Have  you  a  family,  are  you  a  married 
^-  man? 

Chr.  I  have  a  wife  and  four  small  children. 

Char.  And  why  did  you  not  bring  them  aloni 
with  you  % 

Chr.  Then  Christian  wept  and  said,  Oh,  how| 

willingly  would  I  have  done  it!  butj 

to  hf  w^ife  a^d  they  were  all  of  them  utterly  averse  tO| 

cliiidren.  ^^  going  on  pilgrimage. 


TALK   WITH   CHARITY.  87 

Char.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and 
have  endeavored  to  show  them  the  danger  of  stay- 
ing behind. 

Chr,  So  I  did ;  and  told  them  also  what  God 
bad  shown  to  me  of  the  destruction  of  our  city ; 
but  I  seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked,  and 
they  believed  me  not.    Gen.  19  :  14. 

Char.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he  would 
bless  your  counsel  to  them  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection  ;  for 
you  must  think  that  my  wife  and  poor  children 
were  very  dear  to  me. 

Char.   But  did  you  tell  them  of   your  own 
Don'ow,  and  fear  of  destruction  ]    for  I  suppose 
that  destruction  was  visible  enough  to  you. 
Chr.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over. 

rrn  '1.1  r»  •  Christian's  fear 

iney  might  also  see  my  tears  m  my  of  perishing 
countenance,  in  my  tears,  and  also  in  ^^^^^a^*^  H^ 
my  trembling  under  the  apprehension  countenance. 
of  the  judgement  that  did  hang  over  our  heads  j  but 
all  was  not  sufficient  to  prevail  with  them  to  come 
with  me. 

Char.  But  what  could  they  say  for  themselves 
why  they  came  not  1 

Chr.  Why,  my  wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this 
wrorld,  and  my  children  were  given  to  The  cause  why 
die  foolish  delights  of  youth  ;   so,  what  ^",^  ,''''^^.  ,^°'^ 

o  J  >         f  children  did  not 

by  one   thing,    and  what  by  another,  eo  with  lum. 
they  left  me  to  wander  in  this  manner  alone. 
Char.    But  did  you  not  with  youi  vain  life 


88  TALK    WITH   CHARxTY. 

damp  all  that  you,  by  words,  used  by  way  of  per- 
suasion to  bring  them  away  with  you  1 

Chr.  Indeed  I  cannot  commend  my  life,  for  1 
am  conscious  to  myself  of  many  failings  therein. 
I  know  also,  that  a  man,  by  his  conversation,  may 
Boon  overthrow  what  by  argument  or  persuasion 
he  doth  labor  to  fasten  upon  others  for  their  good. 
Yet  this  I  can  say,  I  was  very  wary  of  giving  them 
Christian's  good  occasiou,  by  any  unseemly  action,  to 
forT'^^hS^"  w^ife"  ™^^®  them  averse  to  going  on  pilgrim- 
and  children.  ^ge.  Yea,  for  this  very  thing,  they 
would  tell  me  I  was  too  precise,  and  that  I  denied 
myself  of  things  (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. 

Char.  Indeed,  Cain  hated  his  brother,  1  John, 
3  :  12,  because  his  own  works  were  evil,  and  his 
brother's  righteous;  and  if  thy  wife 
of  their  blood  and  children  have  been  offended  with 
ey  pens  ^-^^^  ^^^  ^^^.^^  ^^^^  thereby  show  them- 
selves to  be  implacable  to  good ;  thou  hast  deliv- 
ered thy  soul  from  their  blood.    Ezek.  3  :  19. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  thus  they  sat  tall 
ing  together    until  supper  was  ready.     So  when 
What  Christian   ^^^^V  ^'^^  ^^^^  ready  they  sat  do;vn 
had  for  his  sup-   to  meat.  Now  the  table  was  furnished 

per. 

with  fat  things,  and  with  wine  that  was 
well  refined;  and  all  their  talk  at  the  table  was 


TALK     WITH     CHARITY.  89 

about  the  Lord  of  the  hill;  as  namely,  rpheir  talk  at 
about  what  he  had  done,  and  where-  supper. 
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  wanior,  and  had  fought 
with  and  slain  him  that  had  the  power  of  death, 
Heb.  2  :  14,  15 ;  but  not  without  great  danger  to 
himself,  which  made  me  love  him  the  more. 

For,  as  they  said,  and  as  I  believe,  said  Chris- 
tian, he  did  it  with  the  loss  of  much  blood.  But 
that  which  put  the  glory  of  grace  into  all  he  did, 
was,  that  he  did  it  out  of  pure  love  to  his  country. 
And  besides,  there  were  some  of  them  of  the  house- 
hold that  said  they  had  been  and  spoke  with  him 
since  he  did  die  on  the  cross ;  and  they  have  attest- 
ed, 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  stripped  himself  of  his  glory 
that  he  might  do  this  for  the  poor ;  and  that  they 
heard  him  say  and  affirm,  that  he  would  not  dwell 
in  the  mountain  of  Zion  alone.  They  said,  more- 
over, that  he  had  made  many  pilgrims 

,  -     .  J  I      c  (.jjj^gj  makes 

prmces,  though  by  nature  they  were  princes  of  beg- 
beggars  born,  and  their  original  had  ^^^* 
been  the  dunghill.  1  Sam.  2:8;  Psalm  113  :  7. 
Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night ; 
and  after  they  had  committed  themselves  to  their 
Lord  for  protection  they  betook  themselves  to  rest. 


90  THE    WONDERS    SHOWN 

The  pilgrim  they  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber, 
riu  .  .    ,  u  J,    whose  window  opened  toward  the  sun- 

Christian's  bed  »  ■•■ 

chamber.  rising.  The  name  of  the  chamber  was 
Peace,  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day,  and  then 
he  awoke  and  sang, 

Where  am  I  now  ?  Is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesus,  for  the  men  that  pilgrims  are, 
Thus  to  provide  that  I  should  be  forgiven, 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  heaven. 

So  in  the  morning  they  all' got  up  ;  and,  after  some 
more  discourse,  they  told  him  that  he  should  not 
depart  till  they  had  shown  him  the  rarities  of  that 
Christian  had  P^^ce.  And  first  they  had  him  into  the 
ind  *what^he  st^^^y*  where  they  showed  him  records 
saw  there.  of  the  greatest  antiquity  ;  in  which,  as 
I  remember  my  dream,  they  showed  him  the  pedi- 
gree of  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  that  he  was  the  Son 
of  the  Ancient  of  days,  and  came  by  eternal  gene- 
ration. Here  also  was  more  fully  recorded  the 
acts  that  he  had  done,  and  the  names  of  many  hun- 
dreds that  he  had  taken  into  his  service ;  and  how 
he  had  placed  them  in  such  habitations,  that  could 
neither  by  length  of  days,  nor  decays  of  nature,  be 
dissolved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy  acts 
that  some  of  his  servants  had  done  ;  as  how  they 
had  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought  righteousness, 
obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of 


TO   CHRISTIAN.  91 

ihe  sword,  out  of  weakness  were  made  strong, 
waxed  valiant  in  fig:ht  and  turned  to  flio^ht  the  ar- 
mies  of  the  aliens.    Heb.  11  :  33,  34. 

Then  they  read  again  another  part  of  the  re- 
cords of  the  house,  where  it  was  shown  how  wil- 
ling their  Lord  was  to  receive  into  his  favor  any, 
even  any,  though  they  in  time  past  had  offered  great 
affrontsto  his  person  and  proceedings.  Here  also 
were  several  other  histories  of  many  other  famous 
things,  of  all  which  Christian  had  a  view ;  as  of 
things  both  ancient  and  modern,  together  with 
prophecies  and  predictions  of  things  that  have 
their  certain  accomplishment,  both  to  the  dread 
and  amazement  of  enemies,  and  the  comfort  and 
solace  of  pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him,  and  had  him  into 
the  armory,  where  they  showed  him  christian  had  into 
all  manner  of  furniture  which  their  t^^e  armory. 
Lord  had  provided  for  pilgi'ims,  as  sword,  shield, 
helmet,  breastplate,  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  showed  him  some  of  the  engines  witli 
which  some  of  his  servants  had  done      ^    .  . 

Christian     is 

wonderful  things.    They   showed  him   made    to   see 
Moses'  rod ;  the  hammer  and  nail  with 
which  Jael  slew  Sisera ;  the   pitchers,    trumpets, 
and  lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon  put  to  flight  the 
armies  of  Midian.    Then  they  showed  him  the  ox- 


92  THE    WONDERS    SHOWN 

goad  wherewith  Shamgar  slew  six  hundred  men. 
They  showed  him  also  the  jaw-bone  with  which 
Samson  did  such  mighty  feats.  They  showed  him 
moreover  the  sling  and  stone  with  which  David 
slew  Goliah  of  Gath,  and  the  sword  also  with  which 
their  Lord  will  kill  the  man  of  sin  in  the  day  that 
he  shall  rise  up  to  the  prey.  They  showed  him  be- 
sides many  excellent  things,  with  which  Christian 
was  much  delighted.  This  done,  they  went  to  their 
rest  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  on  the  morrow 
he  got  up  to  go  forward,  but  they  aesired  him  to 
stay  till  the  next  day  also ;  and  then,  said  they, 
we  vdll,  if  the  day  be  clear,  show  you  the  Delec- 
table Mountains ;  which,  they  said,  would  yet  far- 
ther add  to  his  comfort,  because  they  were  nearer 
the  desired  haven  than  the  place  where  at  present 
he  was  ;  so  he  consented  and  stayed.  When  the 
morning-  was  up,  they  had  him  to  the 

Christianshow.  °  ^  n     i-n     i.         i       i 

ed  the  Deiecta-  top  oi  the  liouse,  and    Did    him  look 
oun  ains.  g^^^j.]^^  g^  j^^  ^-^^  ^^^  behold,  at  a  great 

distance,  he  saw  a  most  pleasant  mountainous 
country,  beautified  with  woods,  vineyards,  fruits  ol 
all  sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs  and  fountains, 
very  delectable  to  behold.  Isa.  33  :  16,  17.  Then 
he  asked  the  name  of  the  country.  They  said  it 
was  Immanuel's  land  ;  and  it  is  as  common  said 
they,  as  this  hill  is,  to  and  for  all  the  pilgrims. 
And  when  thou  comest  there,  fi'om  thence  thou 
mayst    see   to   the  gate  of   the  celestial  city,   as 


CHRISTIAN    IS    ARMED.  93 

the  shepherds  that  live  there  will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  himself  of  setting  forward, 
and  they  were  willing  he  should.  But  christian  seta 
first,  said  they,  let  us  go  again  into  the  forward, 
armory.  So  they  did,  and  when  he  came  there  they 
harnessed  him  fi-om  head  to  foot  with  what  was  of 
proof,  lest  perhaps  he  should  meet  with  assaults  in 
the  way.  He  being  therefore  thus  accoutred,  walk- 
ed out  with  his  friends  to  the  gate  ;  and  christian  sent 
there  he  asked  the  Porter  if  he  saw  away  ai-med. 
any  pilgrim  pass  by.  Then  the  Porter  answered. 
Yes. 

Chr.  Pray  did  you  know  him  1  said  he. 

Port.  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  bom.  How  far  do  you  think  he 
may  be  before  1 

Port.  He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  hill. 

Chr.  Well,  said  Christian,  good  Porter,  the 
Lord  be  ^vith  thee,  and  add  to  all  thy  ^^^  christian 
blessinsfs  much  increase  for  the  kind-   ^'^  the  Porter  • 


o 


Qcss  that  thou  hast  showed  me. 


greet  at  parting. 


94  PURSUES    HIS    JOURNEY. 

Qi\)t  Sonxti)    Stage. 

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  Chris- 
tian, As  it  was  difficult  coming  up,  so,  so  fer  as  I 
can  see,  it  is  dangerous  going  down.  Yes,  said 
Prudence,  so  it  is  ;  for  it  is  a  hard  matter  for  a 
man  to  go  down  into  the  valley  of  Humiliation,  as 
vaiie  of  ^^^^  ^^'^  now,  and  to  catch  no  slip  by 
Humiliation.  ^ho  way ;  therefore,  said  they,  we  are 
come  out  to  accompany  thee  down  the  hill.  So  he 
began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily  ;  yet  he  caught 
a  slip  or  two. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  good  com- 
panions, when  Christian  was  got  down  to  the  bot- 
tom 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. 

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 

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. 


CIUUSTIAN    AND    APOLLYON.  95 

Then  did  Christian  begin  to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast 
in  his  mind  whether  to  go  back,  or  to  stand  his 
ground.  But  he  considered  again  that  he  had  no  ar- 
mor for  his  back,  and  therefore  thous^ht    ^,  .  . 

^  Christian      Las 

that   to  turn  the   back  to   him  midit   no  annor  for 

,  .  ,  .  .        °         his  back. 

give  him  greater  advantage  with  ease 
to  pierce  him  with  his  darts  ;  therefore  he  resolved 
to  venture,  and  stand  his  ground ;  for,  thought  he, 
had  I  no  more  in  mine  eye  than  the  saving  of  my 
life,  it  would  be  the  best  way  to  stand. 

So  he  went  on,  and  Apollyon  met  him.  Now 
the  monster  was  hideous  to  behold ;  he  was  clothed 
with  scales  like  a  fish,  and  they  are  his  pride ;  he 
had  wings  like  a  dragon,  and  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  disdain- 
ful countenance,  and  thus  began  to  question  him. 

Apollyon.    Whence    came   you,   ^. 

•^  Discourse     be- 

and  whither  are  you  bound  1  twixi  christian 

^  T  n  1  •  /»    ^^  Apollyon. 

Chr.  1  am  come  irom  the  city  of 
Destruction,  which  is  the  place  of  all  evil,  and  I 
am  going  to  the  city  of  Zion. 

Apol.  By  this  I  perceive  that  thou  art  one  of 
my  subjects  ;  for  all  that  country  is  mine,  and  I 
am  the  prince  and  god  of  it.  How  is  it,  then,  that 
thou  hast  run  away  from  thy  king  ]  Were  it  not 
that  I  hope  thou  mayst  do  me  more  sei-vice,  I 
would  strike  thee  now  at  one  blow  to  the  ground. 

Chr.  I  was  indeed,  bom  in  vour  dominions. 


96  CHRISTIAN    AND    APOLLYON. 

but  your  service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  such 
as  a  man  could  not  Hve  on ;  for  the  wages  of  sin 
is  death,  Rom.  6  :  23  ;  therefore  when  I  was  come 
to  years,  I  did,  as  other  considerate  persons  do, 
look  out,  if  perhaps  I  might  mend  myself 

Apol.  There  is  no  prince  that  will  thus  lightly 
lose  his  subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet  lose  thee ;  but 
A  ou  on's  flat-  ^^^^®  ^^^^^  complaiuost  of  thy  service 
terj'.  and  wages,  be  content  to  go  back,  and 

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  ;" 

Apollyon  under-    ^        .      ,  .      ^ 

values  Christ's  but  it  is  Ordinary  for  those  that  have 
professed  themselves  his  servants,  af- 
ter a  while  to  give  him  the  slip,  and  return  again 
to  me.    Do  thou  so  too,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

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

Apol.  Thou  didst  the  same  by  me,  and  yet  I 
am  willing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt  yet 
turn  again  and  go  back. 

Chr.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my  nonage  : 
and  besides,  I  count  that  the  Prince,  under  whose 
banner  now  I  stand,  is  able  to  absolve  me,  yea, 
and  to  pardon  also  what  I  did  as  to  my  compliance 


CHRISTIAN   AND    APOLLYON.  97 

with  thee.  And  besides,  O  thou  destroying  Apol- 
lyon,  to  spetik  truth,  I  Uke  his  service,  his  wages, 
his  servants,  his  government,  his  company,  and 
countiy,  better  than  thine ;  therefore  leave  oft'  to 
persuade  me  further ;  I  am  his  sers'ant,  and  I  will 
follow  him. 

Apol.  Consider  again,  when  thou  ait  in  cool 
blooil,  what  tliou  ait  like  to  meet  with  ApoUyon 

in  the  way  that   thou   eroest.     Thou  pleads  the  griev- 

•'  =•  ous     ends     ot 

knowest  that   tor   the   most   part  his   chrisnansiodis- 

-    ,  suade  Christian 

servants  come   to  an  ill  end  because   fixim  jx-rsistiiig 

,  .  ,     in  his  way. 

they  are  transgressoi-s  against  me  and 
iiiy  ways.  How  many  of  them  have  been  put  to 
shameful  deaths  !  And  besides,  thou  countest  his  ser- 
vice better  than  mine  ;  wheivas  he  never  yet  came 
fi'om  the  place  whei-e  he  is,  to  deliver  any  tliat 
served  him  out  of  their  enemies'  hands ;  but  as  for 
me,  how  many  times,  as  all  the  world  very  well 
knows,  have  I  deliveivd,  either  by  power  or  fraud, 
those  that  have  faithfully  served  me,  from  him  and 
his,  though  taken  by  them !  And  so  will  I  deli- 
ver thee. 

Chk.  His  forbeaiing  at  present  to  deliver  them, 
is  on  purpose  to  try  their  love,  whether  they  will 
cleave  to  him  to  the  end ;  and  as  for  the  ill  end 
thou  sayest  they  come  to,  that  is  most  glorious  in 
tiieir  account.  For,  for  pi*esent  delivoi-ance,  they 
do  not  much  expect  it ;  for  they  stay  for  their  glo- 
ry ;  and  then  they  shall  have  it,  when  their  Princv 
conies  in  his  ajid  the  glory  of  the  angels. 


98  CONFLICT    BETWEEN 

Apol.  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful  in  thy 
service  to  him ;  and  how  dost  thou  think  to  receive 
wages  of  him  1 

Chr.  Wherein,  O  Apollyon,  have  I  been  un- 
faithful to  him  1 

A.POL.  Thou   didst   faint   at   first   setting   out, 

Apollyon     ^^^^^^  ^^o^  wast  almost  choked  in  the 

pleads  Chris-     milf  of  Dospond.    Thou  didst  attempt 

tian  s  xnfinni-  .  ••• 

ties  against  wrong  ways  to  be  lid  of  thy  burden, 
whereas  thou  shouldst  have  stayed  till 
thy  Prince  had  taken  it  off.  Thou  didst  sinfully 
sleep  and  lose  thy  choice  things.  Thou  wast  al- 
most persuaded  also  to  go  back  at  the  sight  of  the 
lions.  And  when  thou  talkest  of  thy  journey,  and 
of  what  thou  hast  seen  and  heard,  thou  ai't  inward- 
ly desirous  of  vain  glory  in  all  that  thou  sayest 
or  doest. 

Chr.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more  which 
thou  hast  left  out ;  but  the  Prince  whom  I  serve 
and  honor  is  merciful  and  ready  to  forgive.  But 
besides,  these  infirmities  possessed  me  in  thy  coun- 
try ;  for  there  I  sucked  them  in,  and  I  have  groan- 
ed under  them,  been  sorry  for  them,  and  have  ob' 
tained  pardon  of  my  Prince. 

APOli.  Then  Apollyon  broke  out  into  a  griev- 
ous rage,  saying,  I  am  an  enemy  to 
rage^°aUsupon  this  Prince;  I  hate  his  person,  his 
Christian.  laws,  and  people ;  I  am  come  out  on 

purpose  to  v/ithstand  thee. 

Chr.  Apollyon,  beware  what  you  do,  for  I  am 


CHRISTIAN   AND    APOLLYON.  99 

in  the  king's  highway,  the  way  of  holiness ;  there 
fore  take  heed  to  yourself. 

Apol.  Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the 
whole  breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of 
fear  in  this  matter.  Prepare  thyself  to  die  ;  for  1 
swear  by  my  infernal  den,  that  thou  shalt  go  no 
farther  :  here  will  I  spill  thy  soul.  And  with  that 
he  threw  a  flaming  dart  at  his  breast ;  but  Chris- 
tian 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  it  was  time 
to  bestir  him ;  and  Apollyon  as  fast  made  at  him, 
throwing  darts  as  thick  as  hail ;  by  the  which,  not- 
withstanding all  that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid 
it,  Apollyon  wounded  him  in  his  head,  ^^  .  . 

his  hand,  and  foot.    This  made  Chris-   wounded  in  his 

■,•     -,     1        1         A         11  1  understanding, 

tian  give  a  little  back  :  Apollyon,  there-  faith,  and  con- 
fore,  followed  his  work  amain,  and 
Christian  again  took  courage,  and  resisted  as  man- 
fully 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. 

Then  Apollyon,  espying  his  opportunity,  began 
to  gather  up  close  to  Christian,  and  ^vrestling  with 
him,  gave  him  a  dreadful  fall ;  and  with 
that  Christian's  sword  flew  out  of  his  eff  ch^utSi 
hand.  Then  said  Apollyon,  I  am  sure  ^^^^^  ^^ 
of  thee  now.    And  with  that  he  had 


100  CHRISTIAN'S    VICTORY. 

almost  pressed  him  to  death ;  so  that  Christian  be- 
gan to  despair  of  hfe.  But,  as  God  would  have  it, 
while  Apollyon  was  fetching  his  last  blow,  thereby 
to  make  a  full  end  of  this  good  man,  Christian 
nimbly  reached  out  his  hand  for  his  sword,  and 
caught  it,  saying,  Rejoice  not  against  me,  O  mine 
enemy :  when  I  fall,  I  shall  arise,  Mic.  7:8;  and 
with  that  gave   him  a  deadly  thrust, 

Christian's  vie-        -,  .   ^  t      i  •  -ii  ^-i^ 

tory  over  Apol-  which  made  him  give  back,  as  one  that 
^^°°*  had  received  his  mortal  wound.  Chris- 

tian perceiving  that,  made  at  him  again,  saying, 
Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are  more  than  con- 
querors through  Him  that  loved  us.  Rom.  8  :  37. 
And  with  that  Apollyon  spread  forth  his  dragon 
wings  and  sped  him  away,  that  Christian  saw 
him  no  more.  James,  4:7. 

In  this  combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he 

had  seen  and  heard  as  I  did,  what 
of^h?combS  y®^^"^S  ^^^^  hideous  roaring  Apollyon 
by  the   spec-   made  all  the  time  of  the  fight ;  he  spake 

like  a  dragon  :  and  on  the  other  side, 
what  sighs  and  groans  burst  from  Christian's  heart. 
I  never  saw  him  all  the  while  give  so  much  as  one 
pleasant  look  till  he  perceived  he  had  wounded 
Apollyon  with  his  two-edged  sword ;  then,  indeed, 
he  did  smile,  and  look  upward !  But  it  was  tJie 
dreadfullest  sight  that  ever  I  saw. 
^,  .  .      .  So  when  the  battle  was  over  Chris- 

Christian  gives 

God  thanks  for   tian  Said,   I  will  here  gave  thanks  to 

bisdehveraace.     ^^.  ,         n       ,      i    t  -,  „ 

Him  that  hath  delivered  me  out  of 


THE    SHADOW   OF   DEATH.  101 

the  mouth  of  the  lion ;  to  him  that  did  help  me 
against  Apollyon.    And  so  he  did,  saying, 

Grreat  Beelzebub,  the  captain  of  this  fiend, 

Design'd  ray  ruin;  therefore  to  this  end 

He  sent  him  hamess'd  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  make  him  fly  : 

Therefore  to  Him  let  me  give  lasting  praise, 

And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  always        ^ 

Then  there  came  to  him  a  hand  with  some  of 
the  leaves  of  the  tree  of  life,  the  which  Christian 
took,  and  applied  to  the  woi*^,ds  that  he  had  re- 
ceived in  the  battle,  and  was  healed  immediately. 
He  also  sat  down  in  that  place  to  eat  bread,  and 
to  drink  of  the  bottle  that  was  given  him  a  little 
before  :  so  being  refreshed,  he  addressed  himself 
to  his  journey,  with  his  sword  drawn  ^^^^^  ^^^^ 
in  his  hand ;  for,  he  said,  I  know  not   on  in  his  jour- 

'  '  ney    with    his 

but  some  Other  enemy  may  be  at  hand,   sword  drawn 

-in  his  hand. 

But  he  met  with  no  other  affront  from 
Apollyon  quite  through  this  valley. 

Now  at  the  end  of  this  valley  was  another,  called 
the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death ;  ^^  ^^^^^  ^^ 
and  Christian  must  needs  ^o  throuf^h   the  Shadow  oi 

°  °       Death. 

it,   because   the  way  to  the  Celestial 
City  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.    Now  this  valley 
is  a  very  solitary  place  :  the  prophet  Jeremiah  thus 
describes  it :  "A  wilderness,  a  land  of  deserts  and 
of  pits,  a  land  of  drought,  and  of  the  Shadow  of 


102  HOURORS    OF    THIS    VALLEY. 

Death,  a  land  that  no  man  "  (but  a  christian)  "  pass- 
eth  through,  and  where  no  man  dwelt."    Jer.  2  :  6. 

Now  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it  than 
in  his  fight  with  Apollyon,  as  by  the  sequel  you 
si]  all  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 

The  children  of     ,         ,  ,  „  _    . 

the    Spies  go   that  brought  up  an  evil  report  oi  the 

good  land.  Num.  13  :  32,  making  haste 

to  go  back ;  to  whom  Christian  spake  as  follows. 

Chr.  Whither  are  you  going  ] 

Men.  They  said,  Back,  back,  and  we  would 
have  you  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  Dring  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.    Psalm  44  :  19. 

Chr.  But  what  have  you  seen  1  said  Christian, 

Men.  Seen!  why  the  valley  itself,  which  is  as 
dark  as  pitch :  we  also  saw  there  the  hob  goblins, 


HORRORS    OF    THIS    VALLEY.  103 

satyrs,  and  dragons  of  the  pit :  we  heard  also  in 
that  valley  a  continual  howling  and  yelling,  as  of  a 
people  under  unutterable  miseiy,  who  there  sat 
bound  in  affliction  and  irons ;  and  over  that  valley 
hang  the  discouraging  clouds  of  confusion  :  death 
also  doth  always  spread  his  wdngs  over  it.  In  a 
word,  it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being  utterly  with- 
out order.    Job,  3:5;   10  :  22. 

Chr.   Then,  said  Christian,  I  perceive  not  yet, 

by  what  you  have  said,  but  that  this  is  my  way  to 

the  desired  haven.    Psalm  44  :.  IS,  19  ;  Jer.  2  :  6. 

Men.  Be  it  thy   way,  we  will  not  choose  it 

for  ours. 

So  they  parted,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way, 
but  still  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for  fear 
lest  he  should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  so  far  as  this  valley 
reached,  there  was  on  the  right  hand  a  very  deep 
ditch ;  that  ditch  is  it,  into  which  the  blind  have 
led  the  blind  in  all  ages,  and  have  both  there  mis- 
erably perished.  Again,  behold,  on  the  left  hand 
there  was  a  very  dangerous  quag,  into  which,  if 
even  a  good  man  falls,  he  finds  no  bottom  for  his 
foot  to  stand  on  :  into  that  quag  king  David  once 
did  fall,  and  had  no  doubt  therein  been  smothered, 
had  not  He  that  is  able  plucked  him  out.  Psalra 
69  :  14. 

The  pathway  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow, 
and  therefore  good  Christian  was  the  more  put  to 
it :  for  when  he  sought,  in  the  dark,  to  shun  the 


104  HORRORS    OF   THIS    VALLEY. 

ditch  on  the  one  hand,  he  was  ready  to  tip  ove: 
into  the  mire  on  the  other :  also,  when  he  sough 
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  ;  foi 
besides  the  danger  mentioned  above,  the  pathway 
was  here  so  dark,  that  ofttimes,  when  he  lifted  up 
his  foot  to  go  forward,  he  knew  not  where,  or  upon 
what  he  should  set  it  next. 

About  the  midst  of  this  valley  I  perceived  the 
mouth  of  hell  to  be,  and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the 
wayside.  Now,  thoug^^t  Christian,  what  shall  I  dol 
And  ever  and  anon  the  flame  and  smoke  would 
come  out  in  such  abundance,  with  sparks  and  hide- 
ous noises,  (things  that  cared  not  for  Christian's 
sword,  as  did  Apollyon  before,)  that  he  was  forced 
to  put  up  his  sword,  and  betake  himself  to  another 
weapon,  called  All-prayer,  Eph.  C  :  18  ;  so  he  cried, 
in  my  hearing,  O  Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  deliver  my 
soul.  Ps.  116  :  4.  Thus  he  went  on  a  great  while, 
yet  still  the  flames  would  be  reaching  toward  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  for- 
christianputtoa  Ward  to  meet  him,  he  stopped,  and 
staudfora  whue.  began  to  muse  what  he  had  best  to 


HORRORS    OF    THIS    VALLEY.  105 

do.  Sometimes  he  had  half  a  thought  to  go  back  ; 
then  again  he  thought  he  might  be  halfway  through 
the  valley.  He  remembered  also,  how  he  had  al- 
ready 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,  I  will  walk  in  the 
strength  of  the  Lord  God.  So  they  gave  back,  and 
came  no  farther. 

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  per- 
ceived it.  Just  when  he  was  come  over 
against  the  mouth  of  the  burning  pit,  ^Q  beUeve^tha^ 
one  of  the  wicked  ones  got  behind  him,  pJieimerwhSi 
and  stepped  up  softly  to  him,  and,  whis-  i*  "^^^  „^^^^ 
peringly,  suggested  many  grievous  thom  mto  his 
blasphemies  to  him,  which  he  verily 
thought  had  proceeded  from*  his  own  mind.  This 
put  Christian  more  to  it  than  any  thing  that  he 
met  with  before,  even  to  think  that  he  should 
now  blaspheme  Him  that  he  loved  so  much  be- 
fore. Yet  if  he  could  have  helped  it,  he  would  not 
have  done  it ;  but  he  had  not  the  discretion  either 
to  stop  his  ears,  or  to  know  from  whence  these 
blasphemies  came. 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in  this  disconso- 
late condition  some  considerable  time,  he  thought 


106  A    FELLOW-TRAVELLER. 

he  heard  the  voice  of  a  man,  as  going  before  him, 
saying,  Though  I  walk  tlirough  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  thou  art 
with  me.  Psalm  23  :  4. 

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  1  though  by  reason 
of  the  impediment  that  attends  this  place,  I  cannot 
perceive  it.  Job,  9:11. 

Thirdly,  For  that  he  hoped  (could  he  overtake 
them)  to  have  company  by  and  by.  So  he  went 
on,  and  called  to  him  that  was  before  ;  but  he  knew 
not  what  to  answer,  for  that  he  also  thought  him- 
self to  be  alone.  And  by  and  by  the 
aSaTof  dly^  day  broke  :  then  said  Christian,  "  He 
,  hath  turned  the  shadow  of  death  into 
the  morning."  Amos*  5  :  S. 

Now  morning  being  come,  he  looked  back,  not 
out  of  desire  to  return,  but  to  see,  by  the  light  of 
the  day,  what  hazards  he  had  gone  through  in  the 
dark.  So  he  saw  more  perfectly  the  ditch  that  was 
on  the  one  hand,  and  the  quag  that  was  on  the 
other ;  also  how  narrow  the  way  was  which  led 
betwixt  them  both.  Also  now  he  saw  the  hobgob- 
lins, and  satyrs,  and  dragons  of  the  pit,  but  all  afar 
off;  for  after  break  of  day  they  came  not  nigh,  ye(L 


MORNING    DAWNS.  107 

they  were  discovered  to  him,  according  to  that 
which  is  written,  **  He  discovereth  deep  things 
out  of  darkness,  and  bringeth  out  to  light  the  sha- 
dow of  death."  Job,  12  :  22. 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  with  this  de- 
liverance from  all  the  dangers  of  his  solitary  way  ; 
which  dangers,  though  he  feared  them  much  be- 
fore, 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 
this  second  part,  which  he  was  yet  to  part  of  this  vai- 
go,  was,  if  possible,  far  more  danger-  gg^g^"^  ^^' 
ous  ;  for,  from  the  place  where  he  now 
stood,  even  to  the  end  of  the  valley,  the  way  was 
all  along  set  so  full  of  snares,  traps,  gins,  and  nets 
here,  and  so  full  of  pits,  pitfalls,  deep  holes,  and 
shelvings  down  there,  that  had  it  now  been  dark, 
as  it  was  when  he  came  the  first  part  of  the  way, 
had  he  had  a  thousand  souls,  they  had  in  reason 
been  cast  away ;  but,  as  I  said,  just  now  the  sun 
was  rising.  Then  said  he,  *'  His  candle  shineth  on 
my  nead,  and  by  his  light  I  go  through  darkness." 
Job,  29  :  3. 

In  this  light,  therefore,  he  came  to  the  end  of 
the  valley.  Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  at  the 
end  of  the  valley  lay  blood,  bones,  ashes,  and  man- 
gled bodies  of  men,  even  of  pilgrims  that  had  gone 


108  POPE    AND    PAGAN. 

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  times;  by  whose  power  and  tyranny  the 
men,  whose  bones,  blood,  ashes.  &c.  lay  there, 
were  cruelly  put  to  death.  But  by  this  place  Chris- 
tian went  without  mucn  danger,  whereat  I  some- 
what wondered ;  but  I  have  learnt  since,  that  Pa- 
gan has  been  dead  many  a  day;  and  as  for  the 
other,  though  he  be  yet  alive,  he  is,  by  reason  of 
age,  and  also  of  the  many  shrewd  brushes  that  he 
met  with  in  his  younger  days,  grown  so  crazy  and 
stiff  in  his  joints  that  he  can  now  do  little  more 
than  sit  in  his  cave's  mouth,  grinning  at  pilgrims 
as  they  go  by,  and  biting  his  nails  because  he  can- 
not come  at  them. 

Sol  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way ;  yet, 
at  the  sight  of  the  old  man  that  sat  at  the  mouth 
of  the  cave  he  could  not  tell  what  to  think,  espe- 
cially because  he  spoke  to  him,  though  he  could 
not  go  after  him,  saying,  You  will  never  mend  till 
more  of  you  be  burned.  But  he  held  his  peace, 
and  set  a  good  face  on  it,  and  so  went  by,  and 
catched  no  hurt.     Then  sang  Christian, 

Oh  world  of  wonders  (I  can  say  no  less,) 
That  I  should  be  prcserv'd  in  that  distress 
That  I  have  met  with  here !  O  blessed  be 
That  hand  that  from  it  hath  deliver'd  me! 
Dangers  in  darkness,  devils,  hell,  and  sin 
Did  compass  me,  while  I  this  vale  wjvs  in ; 


You  will  never  mend  till  more  of  you  be  burned." — p.  108. 


1 


CHRISTIAN    SEES    FAITHFUL.  109 

Yea,  snares,  and  pits,  and  traps,  and  nets  did  lie 
My  path  about,  that  worthless  silly  I 
Might  have  been  catched,  entangled,  and  cast  down ; 
But  since  I  live,  let  Jesus  wear  the  crown. 


QL\}t   JTiftl)    Stage. 

Now  as  Christian  went  on  his  way  he  came  to 
a  little  ascent,  which  was  cast  up  on  purpose  that 
pilgi-ims  might  see  before  them;  up  there,  there- 
fore, 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  be- 
hind him;  to  whom  Christian  cried  again.  Stay, 
stay,  till  I  come  up  to  you.  But  Faithful  answer- 
ed, 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  christian  over- 
got  up  with  Faithful,  and  did  also  *^^^^  ^^^^^^i- 
overrun  him ;  so  the  last  was  first.  Then  did  Chris- 
uan  vaingloriously  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 


110  CHRISTIAN    AXD    FAITHFUL.  v 

chrisdan's  fau  lovingly  Oil  together,  and  had  sweet  i 
"id  Lego  loving-  discourse  of  all  things  that  had  hap-- 
lytogetner.  pened   to  them  in  their  pilgrimage; 

end  thus  Christian  began. 

Chr.  My  honored  and  well-beloved  brother 
Faithful,  I  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,  my  dear  friend,  to  have 
had  your  company  quite  fi'om  oui*  towm  ;  but  you 
did  oret  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  you  set  out  after  me  on  your 
pilgiimage  ? 

Faith.  Till  I  could  stay  no  longer ;  for  there 
Their  talk  about  ^^^s  a  gi'eat  talk  presently  after  you 
Shen^^^  aS?  ^^^®^'®  ^one  out,  that  oui'  city  would, 
came.  in  a  sliort  time,  with  fire  fi'om  heaven 

be  burnt  down  to  the  gi'ound. 

Chr.  What  !   did  your  neighbors  talk  so  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  it  was  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  gi'eat 
talk  thereabout,  yet  I  do  not  think  they  did  finnly 
believe  it.  For  in  the  heat  of  the  discom'se  1  heard 
some  of  them  deridingly  speak  of  you,  and  of  your 
desperate  journey;   for  so  they  called  this  your 


CHRISTIAN    A^'D    FAITHFUL.  HI 

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  my  escape. 

Chr.  Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  neighbor  Pliable  ? 

Faith.  Yes,  Christian,  I  heard  that  he  followed 
you  till  he  came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond,  where, 
as  some  said,  he  fell  in ;  but  he  would  not  be  known 
to  have  so  done ;  but  I  am  sure  he  was  soundly 
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  derision,  and  that  among  all  How  EUaWe 
sorts  of  people  :  some  do  mock  and  Tf wiinTSlS 
despise  him,  and  scarce  \vill  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  stirrred  up  even  His  enemies  to  hiss  at 
him,  and  make  him  a  proverb,  because  he  hath 
foi-saken  the  way.    Jer.  29  :  18,  19. 

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,  Well,  at  my  first  setting  out  I  had  hopes 


112  DISCOURSE    OF 

of  that  man ;  but  now  I  fear  he  will  perish  in  the 
overthrow  of  the  city.  For  it  has  happened  to  him 
according  to  the  true  proverb,  The  dog  is  turned 
to  his  vomit  again,  and  the  sow  that  was  washed 
to  her  wallowing  in  the  mire.    2  Pet.  2  :  22. 

Faith.  These  are  my  fears  of  him  too ;  but 
who  can  hinder  that  which  will  be  1 

Chr.  Well,  neighbor  Faithful,  said  Christian, 
let  us  leave  him,  and  talk  of  things  that  more  im- 
mediately concern  ourselves.  Tell  me  now  what 
you  have  met  with  in  the  way  as  you  came ;  for  I 
know  you  have  met  with  some  things,  or  else  it 
may  be  writ  for  a  wonder. 

Faith.  I  escaped  the  slough  that  I  perceived 
you  fell  into,  and  got  up  to  the  gate  without  that 
Faithful  assault-  danger ;  only  I  met  with  one  whose 
ed  by  Wanton.  ^^^^  ^^^s  Wanton,  who  had  like  to 
have  done  me  mischief. 

Chr.  It  was  well  you  escaped  her  net  j  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. 
Gen.  39  :  11-13.    But  what  did  she  do  to  you  ] 

Faith.  You  cannot  think  (but  that  you  knovv' 
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  con- 
tent of  a  good  conscience. 

Faith.  You  know  that  I  mean  all  carnal  and 
fleshly  content. 


II 


CHRISTIAN    AND    FAITHFUL.  113 

Chr.  Thank  God  that  you  escaped  her;  the 
abhorred  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  her  pit. 
Prov.  22  :  14. 

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

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

Faith.  No,  not  to  defile  myself;  for  I  remem- 
bered an  old  wilting  that  I  had  seen,  which  said, 
*'  Her  steps  take  hold  on  hell."  Prov.  5:5.  So  I 
shut  mine  eyes  because  I  would  not  be  bewitched 
with  her  looks.  Job,  31:1.  Then  she  railed  on 
me,  and  I  went  my  way. 

Chr.  Did  you  meet  with  no  other  assault  as 
you  came  1 

Faith.  When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 
called   Difficulty,  I   met  with  a  very 

-  Ill  IT  H^  ^^  assault- 

aged  man,  who  asked  me  what  1  was,    ed  by  Adam  the 

and  whither  bound.    I  told  him  that  I 

was  a  pilgrim,  going  to  the  Celestial  City.    Then 

said  the   old   man.  Thou   lookest   like   an  honest 

fellow;  wilt  thou  be  content  to  dwell  with  me  for 

the  wages  that  I  shall  give  thee  1    Then  I  asked 

him  his  name,  and  where  he  dwelt.    He  said  his 

name  was  Adam  the  first,  and  that  he  dwelt  in  the 

town  of  Deceit.    Eph.  4  :  22.    I   asked  him  then 

what  was  his  work,  and  what  the  wages  that  he 

would  give.    He  told  me,  that  his  work  was  many 

delights;  and  his  wages,  that  I  should  be  his  heir 

ai  last.    I  further  asked  him  what  house  he  kept, 

Pil.  PrograM.  8 


114  DISCOURSE    OF 

and  what  other  servants  he  had.  So  he  told  me 
that  his  house  was  maintained  with  all  the  dain- 
ties of  the  world,  and  that  his  servants  were  those 
of  his  own  begetting.  Then  I  asked  how  many 
children  he  had.  He  said  that  he  had  but  three 
daughters,  the  Lust  of  the  Flesh,  the  Lust  of  the 
Eyes,  and  the  Pride  of  Life,  1  John,  2 :  16 ;  and 
that  I  should  marry  them  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  1 

Faith.  Why,  at  first  I  found  myself  somewhat 
inclinable  to  go  with  the  man,  for  I  thought  he 
spoke  very  fair ;  but  looking  in  his  forehead,  as  1 
talked  with  him,  I  saw  there  written,  "  Put  off 
the  old  man  with  his  deeds." 

Chr.  And  how  then  ? 

Faith.   Then   it   came   burning  hot   into  my 
mind,  that  whatever  he  said,  and  however  he  fiat 
tered,  when  he  got  me  home  to  his  house  he  woul  I 
sell  me  for  a  slave.    So  I  bid  him  forbear  to  tal/ 
for  I  would  not  come  near  the  door  of  his  hous 
Then  he  reviled  me,  and   told  me  that  he  woui 
send  such  a  one  after  me  that  should  make  n 
vray  bitter  to  ray  soul.    So  I  turned  to  go  aw? 
from  him ;  but  just  as  I  turned  myself  to  go  then 
,1  felt  him  take  hold  of  my  flesh,  and  give  me  sue 
a  deadly  twitch  back  that  I  thought  he  had  puliu 
part  of  me  after  himself:  this  made  me  cry,  "C 


CHRISTIAN    AND    FAITHFUL.  115 

VNrretched  man."  Rom.  7  :  24.  So  I  went  on  my 
way  up  the  hill. 

Now  when  I  hacTgot  about  half  way  up  I  looked 
behind  me,  and  saw  one  cominfr  after  me,  su-ift  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  rest  me  ;  but  being  overcome  with  sleep,  I  there 
lost  this  roll  out  of  my  bosom. 

Faith.  But,  good  brother,  hear  me  out.  So 
soon  as  the  man  overtook  me,  it  was  but  a  word 
and  a  blow,  for  down  he  knocked  me  and  laid  me 
for  dead.  But  when  I  was  a  little  come  to  myself 
again,  I  asked  him  wherefore  he  served  me  so. 
He  said,  because  of  my  secret  inclining  to  Adam 
the  first.  And  with  that  be  stiiick  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  mer- 
cy :  but  he  said,.  I  know  not  how  to  show  mercy ; 
and  with  that  he  knocked  me  do^\^l  acrain.  He 
had  doubtless  made  an  end  of  me,  but  that  one 
came  by  and  bid  him  forbear. 

Chr.  WTio  was  that  that  bid  him  forbear  T 

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

Chr,  That  man  that  overtook  you  •j^  temper  of 
was  Moses.  He  spareth  none  ;  neither   ^'^•^ 


116  DISCOURSE    OF 

knoweth  he  how  to  show  mercy  to  those  that  trans- 
gress tlie  law. 

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  secm-ely  at  home,  and 
that  told  me  that  he  would  burn  my  house  over 
my  head  if  I  stayed  there. 

Chr.  But  did  you  not  see  the  house  that  stood 
there,  on  the  top  of  the  hill  on  the  side  of  which 
Moses  met  you  ] 

Faith.  Yes,  and  the  lions  too,  before  I  came 
at  it.  But  for  the  lions,  I  think  they  were  asleep, 
for  it  was  about  noon  ;  and  because  I  had  so  much 
of  the  day  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  that  you  had  called  at  the  house, 
for  they  would  have  showed  you  so  many  rarities 
that  you  would  scarce  have  forgot  them  to  the  day 
of  your  death.  But,  pray  tell  me,  did  you  meet 
nobody  in  the  Valley  of  Humility  1 

Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  one  Discontent,  who 
would  willingly  have  persuaded  me  to 

Faithful    as-  ,       ,  ?''.,,.  ,  . 

eauited  by  Dis-  go  back  again  With  him :  his  reason 
content  ^^^^  ^^^  ^1^^^^.  ^^^  valley  was  altogether 

without  honor.  He  told  me,  moreover,  that  to  go 
there  was  the  way  to  disoblige  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  my- 
self as  to  wade  through  this  valley. 


CHRISTIAN    AND    FAITHFUL,  117 

Chr.    Well,   and  how   did  you   answer  him  ? 
Faith.  I  told  him,  that  although  all  these  that 
he  named  might  claim   a  kindred  of 

,      ,  -11        /,'         '     1        11  Faithful's    an- 

me,  and  that  rightly,  (tor  indeed  they  swer  to  Dis 
were  my  relations  according  to  the 
flesh,)  yet  since  I  became  a  pilgrim  they  have  dis- 
o\vned  me,  and  I  also  have  rejected  them  ;  and 
therefore  they  were  to  me  no  more  now  than  if  they 
had  never  been  of  my  lineage.  I  told  him,  more- 
over, that  as  to  this  valley,  he  had  quite  misrepre- 
sented the  thing ;  for  before  honor  is  humility,  and 
a  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall.  Therefore,  said  I,  I 
had  rather  go  through  this  valley  to  the  honor  that 
was  so  accounted  by  the  wisest,  than  choose  that 
which  he  esteemed  most  worthy  of  our  affections. 
Chr.  Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  valley  1 
Faith.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame ;  but  of  all  the 
men  that  1  met  with  on  my  pilgrimage,  j^^  ^  ^^^^^^^^^ 
he,  I  think,  bears  the  wrong  name,  ^v  shame. 
The  others  would  be  said  nay,  after  a  little  argu- 
mentation, and  somewhat  else  ;  but  this  bold-faced 
Shame  would  never  have  done. 

Chr.  "Why,  what  did  he  say  to  you  1 
Faith.  What?  why  he  objected  against  reli- 
gion itself.  He  said  it  was  a  pitiful,  low,  sneaking 
business  for  a  man  to  mind  religion.  He  said  that  a 
tender  conscience  was  an  unmanly  thing ;  and  that 
for  a  man  to  watch  over  his  words  and  ways,  so 
as  to  tie  up  himself  from  that  hectoring  liberty  that 
tlie  brave  spirits  of  the  times  accustom  themselves 


118  DISCOURSE   OF 

unto,  would  make  him  the  ridicule  of  the  times.  He 
objected  also,  that  but  few  of  the  mighty,  rich,  or 
wise,  were  ever  of  my  opiuiou ;  nor  any  of  them 
neither,  before  they  were  persuaded  to  be  fools, 
and  to  be  of  a  voluntary  fondness  to  venture  the 
loss  of  all  for  nobody  knows  what.  1  Cor.  1  :  26 : 
3:18;  Phik  3  ;  7-9 ;  John,  7:48.  He,  more- 
over, objected  the  base  and  low  estate  and  con- 
dition of  those  that  were  chiefly  the  pilgi-ims  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  gi'oan- 
ing  home ;  that  it  was  a  shame  to  ask  my  neighbor 
forgiveness  for  petty  faults,  or  to  make  restitution 
where  I  have  taken  from  any.  He  said  also,  that 
religion  made  a  man  grow  strange  to  the  gi'eat, 
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  1 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  say  to  him  ? 

Faith.  Say  1  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say  at 
first.  Yea,  he  put  me  so  to  it,  that  my  blood  came 
up  in  my  face  ;  even  this  Shame  fetched  it  up,  and 
had  almost  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, 


CHRISTIAN    AND    FAITHFUL.  119 

Luke,  16  :  15.  And  I  thought  again,  This  Shame 
tells  me  what  men  are ;  but  he  tells  me  nothing 
what  God,  or  the  word  of  God,  is.  And  I  thought 
moreover,  that  at  the  day  of  doom  we  shall  ncjt 
be  doomed  to  death  or  life,  according  to  the  hec- 
tDiing  spirits  of  the  world,  but  according  to  the 
wisdom  and  law  of  the  Highest.  Therefore, 
thought  I,  what  God  says  is  best,  is  indeed  best, 
thousfh  all  the  men  in  the  world  are  against  it. 
Seeing,  then,  that  God  prefers  his  religion  ;  seeing 
God  prefers  a  tender  conscience  ;  seeing  they  that 
make  themselves  fools  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven 
are  wisest,  and  that  the  poor  man  that  loveth  Christ 
is  richer  than  the  greatest  man  in  the  world  that 
hates  him ;  Shame,  depart,  thou  art  an  enemy  to 
my  salvation.  Shall  I  entertain  thee  against  my 
sovereign  Lord  ]  how  then  shall  I  look  Him  in  the 
face  at  his  coming  1  Mark,  8  :  38.  Should  I  now 
be  ashamed  of  his  ways  and  servants,  how  can  I 
expect  the  blessing  1  But  indeed  this  Shame  was 
a  bold  villain  ;  I  could  scarcely  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  that  it  was  but  in  vain  to  at- 
'empt  farther  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 : 


120  DISCOURSE    OF 

The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  withal. 
That  are  obedient  to  the  heavenly  call, 
Are  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  flesh, 
And  come,  and  come,  and  come  again  afresh ; 
That  now,  or  some  time  else,  we  by  them  may 
Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 
O  let  the  pilgrims,  let  the  pilgrims  then 
Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men. 

Chr.  I  am  glad,  my  brot-her,  that  thou  didst 
withstand  this  villain  so  bravely  ;  for  of  all,  as  thou 
sayest,  I  think  he  has  the  vs^rong  name  ;  for  he  is 
so  bold  as  to  follow  us  in  the  streets,  and  to  attempt 
to  put  us  to  shame  before  all  men ;  that  is,  to  make 
us  ashamed  of  that  which  is  good.  But  if  he  was 
not  himself  audacious,  he  would  never  attempt  to 
do  as  he  does.  But  let  us  still  resist  him  ;  for  not- 
withstanding all  his  bravadoes,  he  promoteth  the 
fool,  and  none  else.  **  The  wise  shall  inherit  glory," 
S3.id  Solomon ;  "  but  shame  shall  be  the  promotion 
of  fools."    Prov.  3  :  35. 

Faith.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  Him  for  help 
against  Shame,  that  would  have  us  to  be  valiant 
for  truth  upon  the  earth. 

Chr.  You  say  true;  but  did  you  meet  nobody 
else  in  that  valley  ] 

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

Chr.  'Twas  well  for  you ;  I  am  sure  it  fared 
far  otherwise  with  me.  I  had  for  a  long  season,  as 
soon  almost  as  I  entered  into  that  valley,  a  dread- 


TALKATIVE    AND    FAITHFUL.  121 

fill  combat  with  that  foul  fiend  Apollyon ;  yea,  I 
thought  verily  he  would  have  killed  me,  especially 
when  he  got  me  down,  and  crushed  me  under  him, 
as  if  he  would  have  crushed  me  to  pieces;  for  aa 
he  threw  me,  my  sword  flew  out  of  my  hand;  nay, 
he  told  me  he  was  sure  of  me ;  but  I  cried  to  God, 
and  he  heard  me,  and  delivered  me  out  of  all  my 
troubles.  Then  I  entered  into  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  and  had  no  light  for  almost  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  was  Talkative,  walking  at 
a  distance  beside  them ;  for  in  this  place  there  was 
room  enough  for  them  all  to  walk.  He  was  a  tall 
man  and  somethino^  more  comely  at  a       „,  „    . 

o  •'  Talkative 

distance  than   at  hand.    To  this  man       desci-ibed. 
Faithful  addressed  himself  in  this  manner. 

Faith.  Friend,  whither  away  1  Are  you  going 
to  the  heavenly  country  1 

Talk.  I  am  going  to  the  same  place. 

Faith.  That  is  well;  then  I  hope  we  shall 
have  your  good  company  ? 

Talk.  With  a  very  good  will,  will  I  be  your 
companion. 

Faith.  Come  on,  then,  and  let  us      Faithful  and 

Talkative  enter 

go    together,    and   let   us    spend   our   into  discourse. 


122  DISCOURSE    OF 

time  in  discoursing  of  things  that  are  profitable. 
Talk.  To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to  me 
is  very  acceptable,  with  you  or  with  any  other ; 
and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  met  with  those  that  in- 
^  „    .    ,    ,.      cliiie  to  so  ffood  a  work  ;  for,  to  speak 

Talkative's  dis-  &  '  '  1 

Ukeot'biid  dis-  the  truth,  there  are  but  few  who  care 
thus  to  spend  their  time  as  they  are  in 
their  travels,  but  choose  much  rather  to  be  speak- 
ing of  things  to  no  profit ;  and  this  hath  been  a 
trouble  to  me. 

Faith.  That  is,  indeed,  a  thing  to  be  lamented; 
for  what  thing  so  worthy  of  the  use  of  the  tongue 
and  mouth  of  men  on  earth,  as  are  the  things  of 
the  God  of  heaven  ? 

Talk.  I  like  you  wonderful  well,  for  your  say- 
ing is  full  of  conviction ;  and  I  will  add.  What  thing 
is  so  pleasant,  and  what  so  profitable,  as  to  talk  of 
the  things  of  God  ]  V/hat  things  so  pleasant  1  that 
is,  if  a  man  hath  any  delight  in  things  that  are  won- 
derful. For  instance  :  if  a  man  doth  delight  to  talk 
of  the  history,  or  the  mystery  of  things  ;  or  if  a  man 
doth  love  to  talk  of  miracles,  wonders,  or  signs, 
where  shall  he  find  things  recorded  so  delightful, 
and  so  sweetly  penned,  as  in  the  holy  Scripture  ] 

Faith.  That  is  true  ;  but  to  be  profited  by  such 
things  in  our  talk,  should  be  our  chief  design. 

Talk.  That's  it  that  I  said  ;  for  to  talk  of  such 
things  is  most  profitable ;  for  by  so  doing  a  man 
may  get  knowledge  of  many  things  ;  as  of  the 
vanity  of  earthly  things,  and  the  benefit  of  things 


TALKATIVE    AND    FAITHFUL.  123 

above.  Thus  in  general ;  but  more  Taikative's  fine 
particularly,  by  this  a  man  may  learn 
the  necessity  of  the  new  birth,  the  insufficiency  of 
our  works,  the  need  of  Christ's  righteousness,  &c. 
Besides,  by  this  a  man  may  learn  what  it  is  to  re- 
pent, to  believe,  to  pray,  to  suffer,  or  the  like  :  by 
this,  also,  a  man  may  learn  what  are  the  great  prom- 
ises and  consolations  of  the  Gospel,  to  his  own  com- 
fort. Farther,  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  ne- 
cessity of  a  work  of  grace  in  their  soul,  in  order 
to  eternal  life  ;  but  ignorantly  live  in  the  works  of 
the  law,  by  which  a  man  can  by  no  means  obtain 
the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Faith.  But,  by  your  leave,  heavenly  knowledge 
of  these  is  the  gift  of  God ;  no  man  attaineth  to 
them  by  human  industry,  or  only  by  the  talk  of  them. 

Talk.  All  this  I  know  very  well,  for  a  man  can 
receive  nothing,  except  it  be  given  him  ohbraveTaika- 
from  heaven  ;   all   is   of  grace,  not  of  ^'^^• 

works.    I  could  give  you  a  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  dis- 
course upon  ? 


124  CHRISTIAN    DESCRIBES 

Talk.  AMiat  you  will.  I  will  talk  of  things 
^,  ^        ^  ,^      heavenly,  or   thino^    earthlv ;    thinsfs 

Oh  brave  Talka-  •  '  _  °  .    *' 

t^e.  moral,   or  things  evangelical ;  things 

sacred,  or  things  profane ;  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; 

Faidiful  be.^-  ^^^  stepping  tO  Christian,  (for  he  walk- 
ed by  Talkmire.  ed  all  this  while  by  himself,)  he  said 
to  him,  but  softly,  "What  a  brave  companion  have 
we  got !  Surely  this  man  will  make  a  very  excel- 
lent pilgrim. 

Chr.  At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and  said, 

This  man,  with  whom  you  are  so  taken, 

a  discovery  of  ^Wll  beguile  vrixh.  this  tongue  of  his 

FaiiiSTwho'hl   twenty  of  them  that  know  him  not. 

^^  Faith.  Do  you  know  him,  then] 

Chr.  Know  him]  Yes,  better  than  he  knows 
himself. 

Faith.  Pray  what  is  he  ] 

Chr.  His  name  is  Talkative :  he  dwelleth 
in  our  town.  I  wonder  that  you  should  be  a 
stransrer  to  him ;  only  I  consider  that  our  towr 
is  largre. 

Faith.  Whose  son  is  he  ?  And  whereabout 
doth  he  dwell  ] 

Chr.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Say-well.  He  dwelt 
in  Pratinor-Row;  and  he  is  knovm  to  all  that  are 
acquainted  with  him  by  the  name  of  Talkative,  of 

II 


talkatite's  character.  125 

Prating-Row ;  and,  notwithstanding  his  fine  tongue, 
he  is  but  a  sorry  fellow. 

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

Chr.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  a  thorough 
acquaintance  with  him,  for  he  is  best  abroad  ;  near 
home  he  is  ugly  enough.  Your  saying  that  he  is 
a  prett)'  man,  biings  to  my  mind  what  I  have  ob- 
sen^ed  in  the  work  of  a  painter  whose  pictures 
show  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  1 
smiled)  in  this  matter,  or  that  I  should  accuse  any 
falsely.  I  wiW  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  con- 
versation ;  all  he  hath  Heth  in  his  tongue,  and  his 
jeligion  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.  Re- 
member the  proverb,  "  They  say,  and  T^jkitire  talks 
do  not;''  but  the  kingdom  of  God  is  bmdoeanoc 
not  in  word,  but  in  power.  Matt.  23  :  3  ;  i  Cor. 
4  :  20.  He  talketh  of  prayer,  of  repentance,  of 
fiiith,  and  of  the  new  birth ;  but  he  knows  but  only 


126  CHRISTIAN    DESCRIBES 

to  talk  of  them.   I  have  been  in  his  family,  and  have 

obsei-ved  him  both  at  home  and  abroad  ;  and  I  know 

w^hat  I   say  of  him  is  the  truth.    His 

His  house  is    ,  .  „        ,.    .  , 

empty  of  reii-  hoiLse  IS  as  empty  01  religion  as  the 
^^"*  vv^hite  of  an  egg  is  of  savor.    There  is. 

there  neither  prayer,  nor  sign  of  repentance  for 
sin  J  yea,  the  brute,  in  his  kind,  serves  God  far 
„  .       ,  .  ,     better  than  he.    He  is  the  verv  stain. 

He  IS  a  stam  to  .       " 

religion.        reproach,  and  shame  of  religion  to  all 

that  know  him  ;  Rom.  2  :  23,  24  ;  it  can  hardly  have 

a  good  word  in  all  that  end  of  the  town  where  he 

dwells,  through  him.     Thus  say  the  common  peo- 

rr^  ^    pie  that  know  him,  '*  A  saint  abroad, 

The  proverb      ^  '  ' 

that  goes  of  him.  and  a  devil  at  home."  His  poor  fami- 
ly finds  it  so  ;  he  is  such  a  churl,  such  a  railer  at, 
and  so  unreasonable  with,  his  servants,  that  they 
Men  shun  to  neither  know  how  to  do  for  or  speak  to 
deal  with  him.   j^.^^    Men  that  have  any  dealings  with 

him  say.  It  is  better  to  deal  with  a  Turk  than  with 
him,  for  fairer  dealings  they  shall  have  at  their  hands. 
This  Talkative  (if  it  be  possible)  will  go  beyond 
them,  defraud,  beguile,  and  overreach  them.    Be- 
sides, he  brings  up  his  sons  to  follow  his  steps  j 
and  if  he  finds  in  any  of  them  a  foolish  timorous 
ness,  (for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of  a  ten 
der  conscience,)  he  calls  them  fools  and  blockhead? 
and  by  no  means  will  employ  them  in  much,  or 
speak  to  their  commendation  before  others.     Foi 
my  part,  I  am  of  opinion  that  he  has,  by  his  wicked 
life,  caused  many  to  stumble  and  fall ;  and  will  boi 


talkative's  character.  127 

if  God   prevents   not,    the    ruin    of  many   more. 

Faith.  Well,  my  brother,  I  am  bound  to  be- 
lieve 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  I  received  this  report  at  their 
hands  only,  that  are  enemies  to  religion,  I  should 
have  thought  it  had  been  a  slander,  a  lot  that  often 
falls  from  bad  men's  mouths  upon  good  men's 
names  and  professions.  But  all  these  things,  yea, 
and  a  great  many  more  as  bad,  of  my  own  know- 
ledge, I  can  prove  him  guilty  of.  Besides,  good 
men  are  ashamed  of  him  ;  they  can  neither  call 
him  brother  nor  fiiend  ;  the  very  naming  of  him 
among  them  makes  them  blush,  if  they  know  him. 

Faith.  Well,  I  see  that  saying  and  doing  aro 
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  but  a  dead      -iiie   carcass 

•  r»    •      1  1  .  of  reliirion. 

carcass,  so  saijing,  it  it  be  alone,   is  ^ 

but  a  dead  carcass  also.  The  soul  of  religion  is  the 
practical  part.  *'  Pure  religion  and  undefiled  be- 
fore God  and  the  Father,  is  this,  to  visit  the  father- 
less and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to  keep  hira- 


128  DISCOURSE    BETWEEN 

self  unspotted  from  the  world."  James,  1  :  27  ;  see 
also  verses  22-26.  This  Talkative  is  not  aware  of; 
he  thinks  that  hearing  and  saying  will  make  a  good 
christian ;  and  thus  he  deceiveth  his  own  soul. 
Hearing  is  but  as  the  sowing  of  the  seed ;  talking 
is  not  sufficient  to  prove  that  fi'uit  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.  Matt.  13  :  23.  It  will  not  be  said 
then,  Did  you  believe  1  but,  Were  you  doers,  or 
talkers  only  1  and  accordingly  shall  they  be  judged. 
The  end  of  the  world  is  compared  to  our  harvest, 
Matt.  13  :  30,  and  you  know  men  at  harvest  re- 
gard 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  Talka- 
tive will  be  at  that  day. 

Faith.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses 
by  which  he  describeth  the  beast  that  is  clean. 
Lev.  11;  Deut.  14.  He  is  such  a  one  that  part- 
eth  the  hoof,  and  cheweth  the  cud  ;  not  that  part- 
elh  the  hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth  the  cud  only. 
The  hare  cheweth  the  cud,  but  yet  is  unclean,  be- 
cause he  parteth  not  the  hoof.  And  this  truly 
Faithful convin-  resembleth  Talkative  :  he  cheweth  the 
ness°of  Taika"  cud,  he  seeketh  knowledge  ;  he  chew- 
^^®'  eth  upon  the  word,  but  ho  divideth  not 

the  hoof.  He  parteth  not  with  the  way  of  sinners  • 
but  as  the  hare,  he  retaineth  the  foot  of  the  dog  or 
bear,  and  therefore  he  is  unclean. 


FAITHFUL    AND    TALKATIVE.  129 

Chr.  You  have  spoken,  for  aught  I  know,  the 
tine  Gospel  sense  of  these  texts.  And  I  wiD 
add  another  thing  :  Paul  calleth  some  Talkative  like 
men,  yea,  and  those  gi-eat  talkers  too,  gound^",ftii^ou[ 
sounding  brass,  and  tinkling  cymbals,  li^e- 
1  Cor.  13:  1,  3;  that  is,  as  he  expounds  them  in 
another  place,  things  without  life  giving  sound. 
1  Cor.  14:  7.  Things  vdthout  life;  that  is,  with- 
out the  true  faith  and  grace  of  the  Gospel ;  and, 
consequently,  things  that  shall  never  be  placed  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  among  those  that  are  the 
children  of  life ;  though  their  sound,  by  their  talk, 
be  as  if  it  were  the  tongue  or  voice  of  an  angel. 

Faith,  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  com- 
pany at  first,  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  1 

Chr.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  se- 
rious discourse  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  to  Talkative,  Come,  what  cheer?  How 
is  it  now  ] 

Talk.  Thank  you,  well :  I  thought  we  should 

Pil.  rrogres?.  9 


130  DISCOURSE    BETWEEN 

have   had    a   great   deal   of  talk    by    this    time. 

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will,  we  will  fall  to  it  now ; 
and  since  you  left  it  with  rae  to  state  the  ques- 
tion, let  it  be  this  :  How  doth  the  saving  grace  of 
Ciod  discover  itself  when  it  is  in  the  heart  of  man] 

Talk.  I  perceive,  then,  that  our  talk  must  be 

Taikative's   ^^bout  the  power  of  things.    Weil,  it  i 
o?l  '^woS'  7f  ^  ^'^^T  S°^^  question,  and  I  shall  he 
grace.  willing  to  answer  you.     And  take  my 

answer  in  brief,  thus :  Fii-st,  where  the  grace  of 
God  is  in  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great  out- 
cry against  sin.     Secondly — 

Faith.  Nay,  hold,  let  us  consider  of  one  at 
once.  I  think  you  should  rather  say.  It  shows  it- 
self by  inclining  the  soul  t^  abhor  its  sin. 

Talk.  Why^-what  difference  is  there  between 
crying  out  against,  and  abhorring  of  sin  ] 

Faith.  Oh  !  a  great  deal.   A  man  may  cry  out 

against  sin  of  policy  ;  but  he  cannot  abhor  it  but  by 

virtue  of  a  godly  antipathy  against  it.   I  have  heard 

many  cry  out  against  sin  in  the  pul- 

To  ciy  out        .      J'        -^  1  .  1      .  -,,  ^    , 

against  sin  no   pit,  who  yet  Can  abide  It  well  enough 
°  '      in  the  heart,  house,  and  conversation. 

Gen.  3  :  15.  Joseph's  mistress  cried  out  with 
a  loud  voice,  as  if  she  had  been  very  holy ;  but  she 
would  willingly,  notwithstanding  that,  have  commit- 
ted 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. 


FAITHFUL    AND    TALKATIVE.  131 

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.  This  sign  should  have  been  first ;  but 
first  or  last,  it  is  also  false ;  for  know- 

'  Great  know- 

ledge, gi'eat  knowledge,  may  be   ob-   ledge  no  sign  of 

tained  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.  1  Cor. 

13  : 2.    When   Christ   said,    "  Do   you   know   all 

these  things  1"    and  the  disciples  had   answered. 

Yes,  he  added,  "  Blessed  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

He  doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in  the  knowing  of 

them,  but  in  the.  doing  of  them.    For  ^wo  kinds  of 

there  is  a  knowledge  that  is  not  at-     knowledge.. 

tended  with  doing :  "  He  that  knoweth  his  mas- 

er's  will,  and  doeth  it  not."    A  man  may  know 

like  an  angel,  and  yet  be  no  christian ;  therefore 

your  sign  of  it  is  not  true.    Indeed,  to  knoWy  is  a 

thing  that  pleascth  talkers  and  boasters  ;  but  to  do, 

that  which  pleaseth  God.     Not  that  the  heart 

can  be  good  without  knowledge,  for  without  that 

he  heart  is  naught.     There    are,  therefore,  two 

sorts  of  knowledge,  knowledge  that  resteth  in  the 

bare  speculation  of  things,  and  knowledge  that  is 

accompanied   with  the    grace  of  faith  and  love, 


132  DISCOURSE    BETWEEN 

True  know-      whicli  puts    a  man  upon   doins:  even 

led 26  attend-  ^  r  o 

ed  'with  en-      the  vriW  of  God  from  the  heart :   the 

deavors. 

first  of  these  will  serve  the  talker;  but 
without  the  other  the  true  christian  is  not  content, 
"  Give  me  understanding,  and  I  shall  keep  thy 
law ;  yea,  I  shall  obsei-ve  it  with  my  whole  heait." 
Psalm*  119  :  34. 

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

Faith.  Well,  if  you  please,  propound  another 
sign  how  this  work  of  gi'ace  discovereth  itself 
where  it  is. 

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

Faith.  Well,  if  you  will  not,  -will  you  give  roe 
leave  to  do  it  1 

Talk.  You  may  use  your  liberty. 

Faith.  A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discovereth 
itself,  either  to  him  that  hath  it,  or  to  standers  by. 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus  :  It  gives  him  con- 
One  good  eisn   viction  of  sin,  especially  the  defilement 
of  grace.      q£  ^-^  mature,  and  the  sin  of  unbelief 
for  the  sake  of  which  he  is  sure  to  be  damned  if 
he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's  hand  by  faith  ir 
Jesus  Christ.    This  sight  and  sense  of  things  work 
eth  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for  sin.    Psalm  38 
18      Jer.  31  :  19;    John,    16  :  8  ;     Rom.   7  :  21 
Mark,   16:16;  Gal.  2  :  16 ;    Rev.  1:6.    He  find 
eth,  moreover,  revealed  in  him  the  Savior  of  th- 
world,  and  the  absolute  necessity  of  closing  wit' 
him  for  life ;   at  the  which  he  findeth  hungering 


FAITHFUL    AXD     TALKATIVE.  133 

aiid  thirstings  after  him;  to  which  hungerings, 
&c.  the  promise  is  made.  Now,  according  to 
tlie  strength  or  weakness  of  his  faith  in  his  Sa- 
vior, so  is  his  joy  and  peace,  so  is  his  love  to 
holiness,  so  are  his  desires  to  know  him  more,  and 
alsj  to  serve  him  in  this  world.  But  though,  I 
SLiy  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  cori-uptions  now,  and 
his  abused  reason,  make  his  mind  to  misjudge  in 
this  matter ;  therefore  in  him  that  hath  this  work 
there  is  required  a  very  sound  judgement  before 
he  can  with  steadiness  conclude  that  this  is  a  work 
of  grace.  John,  16  :  9;  Gal.  2  :  15,  16;  Acts, 
4:12;   Matt.  5:6;  Rev.  21  :  6. 

To  others  it  is  thus  discovered  : 

1.  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his  faith 
in  Christ.  2.  By  a  life  answerable  to  that  confes 
sion ;  to  wit,  a  life  of  holiness ;  heart-holiness, 
family-holiness,  (if  he  hath  a  family,)  and  by  con- 
versation-holiness in  the  world ;  which  in  the 
general  teachelh  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  a  hj'pocrite  or  talkative  person 
may  do,  but  by  a  practical  subjection  in  faith  and 
love  to  the  power  of  the  word.  Job,  42  :  5,  6  ; 
Psalm  50 :  23  ;'  Ezek.  20  :  43  ;  Matt.  5:8;  John, 
14:15;  Rom.  10:10;  Ezek.  36:25;  Phil. 
1 :  27  ;  3  :  17-20.    And  now,  sir,  as  to  this  brief 


134  DISCOURSE    BETWEEN 

description  of  tlie  work  of  grace,  and  also  the  dis- 
covery of  it,  if  you  have  aught  to  object,  ol)ject : 
if  not,  then  give  me  leave  to  propound  to  you  a 
second  question. 

Talk.  Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  ohject. 
but  to  hear;  let  me,  therefore,  have  your  secuiul 
question. 

Faith.  It  is  this  :  Do  you  experience  this  first 
part  of  the  description  of  it  1  And  doth  your  life 
Another  "-ood  ^^^^  Conversation  testify  the  same  1  or 
sisa  of  grace,  standoth  your  religion  in  word  or 
tongue,  and  not  in  deed  and  truth  1  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  ap- 
proved, but  whom  the  Lord  commendeth.  Be- 
sides, to  say,  I  am  thus  and  thus,  when  my  con- 
versation, and  all  my  neighbors,  tell  me  T  lie,  is 
great  wickedness. 

Then  Talkative  at  first  began  to  blush  :  but,  re- 
covering himself,  thus  he  replied  :  You  come  now 
to  experience,  to  conscience,  and  to  God ;  and  to 
appeal  to  him  for  justification  of  what  is  spoken. 
Talkative  not  This  kind  of  discourse  I  did  not  ex 
fSuI's  ques-  P^ct ;  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 


FAITHFUL    AND    TALKATIVE.  136 

judge.    But  I  pray,  will  you  tell  me  why  you  ask 
me  such  questions  1 

Faith.  Because  I  saw  you  forward  to  talk,  and 
because  I  knew  not  that  you  had  aught  else  but 
notion.  Besides,  to  tell  you  all  the  truth,  I  have 
heard  of  you  that  you  are  a  man  whose  The  reason 
religion  lies  in  talk,  and  that  your  con-  J'jjj^  fi^'him 
versation  gives  this  your  mouth  pro-  thatquestiuu. 
fession  tiie  lie.  They  say  you  are  a  spot  among 
Christians,  and  that  religion  fareth  the    ^  .^, .  „    ,  . 

'  o  _  Faitlifiirs  plain 

worse  for  your  ungodly  conversation  ;  dealing  with 
that  some  have  already  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 
swearing,  and  lying,  and  vain  company-keeping, 
&c,  will  stand  together.  The  proverb  is  true  of 
you  which  is  said  of  a  harlot,  to  wit,  *'  Tliat  she  is 
a  shame  to  all  women."  So  are  you^  a  shame  to 
all  professors. 

Talk.  Since  you  are  so  ready  to  take  up  re- 
ports, and  to  judge  so  rashly  as  you  Talkative  bi.is 
do,  I  cannot  but  conclude  you  are  fuiihiui  adieu. 
some  peevish  or  melancholy  man,  not  fit  to  be  dis- 
coursed with;   and  so  adieu. 

Tlien  came  up  Christian,  and  said  to  his  bro- 
ther, I  told  you  how  it  would  happen  ;  your  words 
and  his  lusts  could  not  agree.  He  had  rather 
leave  yotlr  company  than  reform  his  life.  But  he 
is  gone  as  1  said,  let  him  go  ;  the  loss  is  no  man's 


136  FAITHFUL    AND    CHRISTIAN. 

A  good  rid-    jjut   his  owTi :    he   has  saved   us   the  ' 

dance.  ^         .  p  .  I 

trouble  of  going  from  him;  for  he  , 
continuing  (as  I  suppose  be  will  do)  as  he  is,  be  ' 
would  have  been  but  a  blot  in  our  company.  Be-  | 
sides,  the  apostle  says,  "  From  such  withdraw  i 
thyself."  j 

Faith.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little  dis-  ] 
course  with  him  ;  it  may  happen  that  he  will  think  i 
of  it  again :  however,  I  have    dealt  plainly  with 
him,  and  so  am  clear  of  his  blood  if  he  perisheth  | 

Chr.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as 
you  did.  There  is  but  little  of  this  faithful  dealing  * 
with  men  now-a-days,  and  that  makes  religion  to  i 
stink  so  in  the  nostrils  of  many,  as  it  doth  ;  for  they  j 
are  these  talkative  fools,  whose  religion  is  only  in  ! 
word,  and  who  are  debauched  and  vain  in  their  I 
conversation,  that  (being  so  much  admitted  into  ! 
the  fellowship  of  the  godly)  do  puzzle  the  world,  j 
blemish  Christianity,  and  grieve  the  sincere.  I  wish  i 
that  all  men  would  deal  with  such  as  you  have  | 
done ;  then  should  they  either  be  made  more  con-  ! 
formable  to  religion,  or  the  company  of  saints  ^ 
would  be  too  hot  for  them.   Then  did  Faithful  say,  j; 

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 
That's  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  i| 


EVANGELIST    AND    THE    PILGRIMS.      137 

seen  by  the  way,  and  so  made  that  way  easy, 
which  would  otherwise  no  doubt  have  been  te- 
dious to  them,  for  now  they  went  through  a  wil- 
derness, 


^he   Si^tl)    Stage. 

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  1  Then  Christian  looked,  and  said, 
It  is  my  good  friend  Evangelist.  Ay,  and  my  good 
fi-iend  too,  said  Faithful,  for  'twas  he  that  set  me 
on  the  way  to  the  gate.    Now  was 

E,.  ,  -,         Evangelist 

vangelist  come  up  unto  them,  and        overtakes 

thus  saluted  them.  *  ^™" 

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

Chr.  Welcome,  welcome,  my  good  Evange- 
list, the  sio^ht  of  thy  countenance  brino^s 

i_  .-L  •       .  1  •     1       They  are  glad 

to  my  remembrance  thy  ancient  kmd-   at  the  sight  of 
ness   and    unwearied    labors   for   my     ^^' 
eternal  good. 

Faith.  And  a  thousand  times  welcome  said 
good  Faithful,  thy  company,  O  sweet  Evangelist; 
how  desirable  is  it  to  us  poor  pilgi'ims  ! 

Evan.  Then  said  Evangelist,  how  hath  it  fared 


138  evangelist's  counsels. 

with  you,  my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last 
parting  ]  What  have  you  met  with,  and  how  have 
you  bQhaved  yourselves  1 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  hhn  of  all 
things  that  had  happened  to  them  in  tlie  way  ;  and 
how,  and  with  what  difficulty,  they  had  arrived  to 
that  place. 

Right  glad  am  I,  said  Evangelist,  not  that  you 

have    met  ^^'ith   trials,    but   that   you 

His  exhorta-   jjayg  been  victors,    and  for  that  vou 

tiun  to  iliem.      .  _  '     ^  •' 

have,     notwithstanding    many    weak- 
nesses, 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  soweth,  and  they  that  reap,  shall  rejoice 
together,"  John,  4:36;  that  is,  if  you  hold  out : 
*'  for  in  due  season  ye  shall  reap,  if  ye  faint  not." 
Gal.  6:9.  The  crown  is  before  you,  and  it  is  an 
incorruptible  one ;  *'  so  run  that  ye  may  obtain  it." 
1  Cor.  9  :  24-27.  Some  there  be  that  set  out  for 
this  crown,  and  after  they  have  gone  far  for  it, 
another  comes  in  and  takes  it  from  them  :  "  hold 
fast,  therefore,  that  you  have ;  let  no  man  take 
your  crown."  Rev.  3:11.  You  are  not  yet  out 
of  the  gun-shot  of  the  devil ;  "  you  have  not  re- 
sisted unto  blood,  striving  against  sin."  Let  the 
kingdom  be  always  before  you,  and  believe  stead- 
fastly concerning  the  things  that  are  invisible.  Let 
nothing  that  is  on  this  side  the  other  world  get 


evangelist's  counsels.  130 

within  you.  And,  above  all,  look  well  to  your  own 
hearts  and  to  tlie  lusts  thereof;  for  they  are  "  de- 
ctMtful  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  ex- 
hortations; but  told  him  withal  that 
they  would  have  him  speak  farther  to  him  tor  his  cx- 
ihem  for  their  help  the  rest  of  the 
way ;  and  the  rather,  for  that  tliey  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  overcome  them.  To  which  re- 
quest Faithful  also  consented.  So  Evangelist  be- 
gan as  folio weth. 

Evan.  My  sons,  you  have  heard  in  the  word 
of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  that  you  -^^  redicteth 
must  "  throuojh  many  tribulations  en-    what    troubles 

°  -^  they  shall  meet 

ter  into  the  kingdom  oi  lieaven  ;     and    with  in  vanity 

,  .  -Ill      Fair,     and     en 

again,  that  "  m  every  city,  bonds  and  courageth  them 
afflictions  abide  you;"  and  therefore  °^^^ 
you  cannot  expect  that  you  should  go  long  on 
your  pilgrimage  without  them,  in  some  sort  oi 
other.  You  have  found  something  of  the  truth  of 
these  testimonies  upon  you  already,  and  more 
U'ill  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  ]^y 
and  by  see  before  you;  and  in  that  town  you  will 
be  hai'dly  beset  with  enemies,  who  will  strain  hard 


140  VANITY    FAIR. 

but  they  will  kill  you  ;  and  be  you.  sure  tliat  one 
or  both  of  you  must  seal  the  testimony  which  you 
hold,  with  blood  ;  but  "  be  you  faithful  unto  death, 
and  the  King  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life." 
He  that  shall  die  there,  although  his  death  will 
He  whose  lot  it  ^®  unnatural,  and  his  pain,  perhaps, 
will  be  there  to    preat,  he  will  yet  have  the  better  of 

suffer,  will  have        .     „  ,,  ,      , 

the  better  of  hia  his  lellow ;  not  omy  becausc  he  will  be 
arrived  at  the  celestial  city  sooniest,  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  yourselves  like  men,  and 
*'  commit  the  keeping  of  your  souls  to  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  to^vn  there  is  a  fair  kept,  call- 
ed Vanity  Fair.  It  is  kept  all  the  year  long.  It 
beareth  the  name  of  Vanity  Fair,  because  the  town 
where  it  is  kept  is  lighter  than  vanity,  Psalm 
G2  :  9  ;  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."  Eccl.  11:8; 
see  also  1  :  2-14  ;  2  :  11-17  ;  Isa.  40  :  17. 

This  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing 
The  antiquity   of  ancient  Standing.     I  will  show  you 

of  this  fair     the  original  of  it. 


I 


VANITY    FAIR.  141 

Almost  five  thousand  years  ago  there  were  pil- 
grims walking  to  the  celestial  city,  as  these  two 
honest  persons  are  ;  and  Beelzebub,  Apollyon,  and 
Legion,  with  their  companions,  perceiving  by  the 
path  the  pilgrims  made,  that  their  way  to  the  city 
lay  through  this  town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived 
here  to  set  up  a  fair  ;  a  fair  wherein  should  be 
sold,  all  sorts  of  vanity,  and  that  it  should  last  all 
the  year  long.  Therefore  at  this  fair  are  all  such 
merchandise  sold  as  houses,  lands,  rj^g  merchan- 
trades,  places,  honors,  preferments,  ^^e  of  this  fair. 
titles,  countries,  kingdoms,  lusts,  pleasures;  and 
delights  of  all  sorts,  as  harlots,  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  color. 

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: 
BO  here  likewise  you  have  the  proper  places,  row%; 
streets,  (namely,  countries  and  kingdoms,)  where 
the  wares  of  this  fair  are  soonest  to  be  found. 
Here  is  the  Britain  Row,  the  French  The  streets  of 
Row,  the  Italian   Row,  the   Spanish        '^''^'^' 


142  VANITY    FAIR. 

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 
Vv'are  of  Rome  and  her  merchandise  is  greatly  pro- 
moted in  this  fair;  only  our  English  nation,  with 
some  others,  have  taken  a  dislike  tliereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City 
lies  just  througR  this  town  where  this  lusty  fair  is 
kept ;  and  he  that  would  go  to  the  city,  and  yet 
not  go  through  this  town,  "  must  needs  go  out  of 
the  world."  1  Cor.  5  :  10.  The  Prince  of  princes 
„,  .  ,     himself,  when  here,  went  throuo^h  this 

Chnst  went  '  '  o 

through  this  town  to  his  own  country,  and  that 
upon  a  fair-day  too  ;  yea,  and,  as  1 
think,  it  was  Beelzebub,  the  chief  lord  of  this 
fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy  of  his  vanities,  yea, 
would  have  made  him  lord  of  the  fair,  would  he 
but  have  done  him  reverence  as  he  went  through 
the  town.  Yea,  because  he  was  such  a  person  of 
honor,  Beelzebub  had  him  from  street  to  street, 
and  showed  him  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in 
a  little  time,  that  he  might,  if  possible,  allure  that 
Blessed  One  to  cheapen  and  buy  some  of  his  vani- 

^,1-      u.   ties ;  but  he  had  no  mind  to  the  mer- 

Chnst  boufrht  ' 

nothing  m  thi^   chancUse,  and,  therefore,  left  the  town 

ClU. 

Without  laymg  out  so  much  as  one 
farthing  upon  these  vanities;  Matt.  4  :  ]-8  ;  Luke, 
4  :  5-8.  This  fair,  therefore,  is  an  ancient  thing 
of  long  standing,  and  a  very  great  fair. 

Now  these  pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go 


HUBBUB    AT    THE    PILGRIMS.  143 

throuoh  this  fair.    Well,  so  they  did ;     '^'^  pilgrims 

c>  .  enter  the   fair. 

but  behold,  even  as  they  entered  into 

the  fair  all  the  people  in  the  fair  were  moved,  and 

llic  town  itself,  as  it  were,  in  a  hub-      ^     ... 

'  '  Tlic  fair  in  a 

Lub  about  them,  and  that  for  several   hubbub   about 

them. 

loasons:  i^  or, 

First,  The  pilgrims  were  clothed  with  such  kind 
of  raiment  as  was  diverse  from  the  The  first  cause 
raiment  of  any  that  traded  in  that  of  ^he  hubbub 
fair.  The  people,  therefore,  of  the  fair  made  a 
great  gazing  upon  them ;  some  said  they  were 
fools  ;  some  they  were  bedlams ;  and  some  they 
were    outlandish  men.  Job,  12  :  4  ;    1  Cor.  4  :  9. 

Secondly,  And  as  they  wondered  at  their  ap- 
parel, so  they  did  likewise  at  their  ^^  , 
speech ;  for  few  could  understand  cause  of  the 
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  barba- 
rians each  to  the  other.     1  Cor.  2  :  7,  8. 

Thirdly,  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse 
the  merchandisers  was,  that  these  pil-  Third  cause  ot' 
grims  set  very  light  by  aH  their  wares.  ^'^  ^'''^^''^^ 
They  cared  not  so  much  as  to  look  upon  them  ; 
and  if  they  called  upon  them  to  buy,  they  would 
put  their  fingers  in  their  ears  and  cry,  "  turn  away 
mine  eyes  from  beholding  vanity,"  Psalm  119:37, 
and  look  upward,  signifying  that  their  trade  and 
traffic  was  in  heaven.  Phil.  3  :  20,  21. 


144  THE    PILGRIMS 

One  chanced  mockingly,  beholding  the  carriage 
of  the  men,  to  say  unto  them,   "  What  will  ye 
buy  ]"  But  they,  looking  gravely  upon  him,  said, 
Fourth  cause  of  "We  buy  the  truth."    Proy.  23:23. 
Uie  hubbub,     j^^  ^-^^^  there  was  an  occasion  taken 
to  despise    the   men  the    more ;    some  mocking. 
They  are      some    taunting,    some     speaking    re- 
mocked,       proachfully,    and    some    calling   upon 
others  to  smite  them.    At  last  things  came  to  a 
hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch  that  all 
order  was  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  those  men  into  examination  about 
whom  the  fair  was   almost   overturned.    So   the 
They  are  ex-     ^^n    Were   brought   to    examination ; 
amined.        ^^^  ^^^gy.  ^.j^^^j  g^j-  ^pon  them    asked 

them  whence  they  came,  whither  they  went,  and 
whut  they  did  there  in  such  an  unusual  garb.    The 
They  tell  who     men    told    them    they   were    pilgrims 
whencr'they     ^nd  Strangers  in  the  world,  and  that  ; 
came.  ^^lej  were  going  to  their  own  country,  ' 

which  was  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  Heb.  1 1 : . 
13-16  ;  and  that  they  had  given  no  occasion  to 
the  men  of  the  town,  nor  yet  to  the  merchandisers, 
thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to  let  them  in  their  jour- 
ney, except  it  was  for  that,  when  one  asked  them 
what  they  would  buy,  they  said  they  would  buy 
They  are  not  the  truth.  But  they  that  were  ap- 
beiieved.      pointed  to  examine  them  did  not  be- 


11 


MUCH    PERSECUTED.  145 

lieve  them  to  be  any  other  than  bedlams  and  mad, 
or  else  such  as  came  to  put  all  things  into  a  con- 
fusion in  the  fair.  Therefore  they  Theyareputin 
took  them  and  beat  them,  and  be-  the  cage, 
smeared  them  with  dirt,  and  then  put  them  into  tlie 
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 
man's  sport,  or  malice,  or  revenge ;  the  great  one 
of  the  fair  laughing  still  at  all  that  befell  them. 
But  the  men  being  patient,  and  "not  Their  behavior 
rendering  railing  for  railing,  but  con-  ^  ^^^  ^^°^' 
trariwise,  blessing,"  and  giving  good  words  for 
bad,  and  kindness  for  injuries  done,  some  men  in 
the  fair  that  were  more  observing  and  less  preju- 
diced than  the  rest,  began  to  check  and  blame  the 
baser  sort  for  their  continual  abuses  done  by  them 
to  the  men.  They,  therefore,  in  an  angry  manner 
let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them  as  bad  as  the 
men  in  the  cage,  and  telling  them  that  they  seem- 
ed confederates,  and  should  be  made  partakers  of 
their  misfortunes.  The  others  replied,  that,  for 
aught  they  could  see,  the  men  were  quiet  and  so- 
ber, 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  themselves  all  the 
while  very  wisely  and  soberly  before  them,)  they 

Pil,  Progress.  1  0 


146  THE    PILGRIMS 

fell  to  some  blows  among  themselves,  and  did  harm 
They  are  One  to  anotliei".  Then  were  these  two 
Sors^  S^'tWs  poor  men  brought  before  their  exami- 
disturbaace.  j^^^g  again,  and  were  charged  as  being 
guilty  of  the  late  hubbub  that  had  been  in  the  fair. 
So  they  beat  them  pitifully,  and  hanged  irons 
upon  them,  and  led  them  in  chains  up 

Theyareledup        ■"•,-,  ^  t-  •         n  ^ 

and  down  the  and  down  the  lair,  tor  an  example 
for  a^"teiTor"to  and  ten'or  to  others,  lest  any  should 
others.  speak  in  their  behalf,   or  join  them- 

selves unto  them.    But  Christian  and  Faithful  be 
haved  themselves  yet  more  wisely,  and  received 
the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was  cast  upon  them 
with  so  much  meekness  and  patience,  that  it  won 
to  their  side  (though  but  few  in  com- 

Some  men  of      •         .  ^    ,  v  i      r» .  -i 

the  fair  won     parison  01  the  rest)  several  oi  the  men 

over  to  them.       -^  ^^^^    ^^.^_      ^j^.^    p^^    ^^^  ^^^^^^   ^^^^^ 

yet  into  a  greater  rage,  insomuch  that  they  conclud- 
ed the  dfeatli  of  these  two  men.    Wherefore  they 
threatened,  that  neither  cage  nor  irons 

Their  adversa-      ,        ,  ,  ,      .  t  i  i 

rios  resolve  to   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  ^ 

They  are  again         .  ,      ,  0.1  1  •  i 

put    into    the   with  them,    bo  they  put  them  m,  and 
ward '  brought   made  their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks. 
totiia.  Here,    also,    they  called    again    to 

mind  what  they  had  heard  from  their  faithful 
friend  Evangelist,  and  were  the  more  confirmed ' 


BROUGHT    TO    TRIAL.  147 

in  their  way  ami  sufferings,  by  what  he  told  them 
would  happen  to  them.  They  also  now  comforted 
each  other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  even  ho 
should  have  the  best  of  it :  therefore  each  man  se 
^retly  wished  that  he  might  have  that  preferment. 
But  committing  themselves  to  the  all-wise  dispo- 
sal of  Him  that  ruleth  all  things,  with  much  con- 
tent they  abode  in  the  condition  in  which  they 
were,  until  they  should  be  otherwise  disposed  of. 
Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they 
brought  tlicm  forth  to  their  trial,  in  order  to  their 
condemnation.  When  the  time  was  come,  they 
were  broufj:ht  bafore  their  enemies,  and  arraigmed. 
The  judge's  name  was  Lord  Hate-good ;  their  in- 
dictment was  one  and  the  same  in  substance, 
though  somewliat  varying  in  form ;  the  contents 
whereof  was  this  :  "  That  they  were 
enemies    to,     and    disturbers    of,    the      '^^^^  indict- 

'  ment 

trade ;    that   they    had    made   commo- 
tions and  divisions   in  the  town,   and  had  won  a 
party  to  their  own  most   dangerous  opinions,  in 
contempt  of  the  law  of  their  prince." 

Then  Faithfid   began  to  answer,   that  he  had 
il  V  set  himself  against  that  which  had 

,^  .  TT-  1  •      1  '    1  Fnithful    an- 

t  itseli  against  Him  that  is  higher  swers  for  him- 
.".)!  the  highest.  And,  said  he,  as  for 
distuibance,  I  make  none,  being  myself  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 


148  FAITHFUL'S    TRIAL. 

as  to  the  king  you  talk  ofj'smce  he  is  Beelzebub,  the 
enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy  him  and  all  his  angels. 

Then  proclamation  was  made,  that  they  that 
had  aught  to  say  for  their  lord  the  king  again..; 
the  prisoner  at  the  bar  should  forthwith  appear, 
and  give  in  their  evidence.  So  there  came  in  threo 
witnesses,  to  wit,  Envy,  Superstition,  and  Pick- 
thank.  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 
nvy  egins.  \Qj^g  time,  and  will  attest  upon  my 
oath  before  this  honorable  bench,  that  he  is 

Judge.  Hold — give  him  his  oath. 

So  they  sware  him.  Then  he  said,  My  lord,  this 
man,  notwithstanding  his  plausible  name,  is  one 
of  the  vilest  men  in  our  country ;  he  neither  re- 
gardeth  prince  nor  people,  law  nor  custom,  but 
doeth  all  that  he  can  to  possess  all  men  with  cer- 
tain of  his  disloyal  notions,  which  he  in  the  gene- 
ral calls  principles  of  faith  and  holiness.  And  in 
particular,  I  heard  him  once  myself  affirm,  that 
Christianity  and  the  customs  of  our  town  of  Vani- 
ty were  diametrically  opposite,  and  could  not  be 
reconciled.  By  which  saying,  my  lord,  ho  doth  at 
once  not  only  condemn  all  our  laudable  doings, 
but  us  in  the  doing  of  them. 

Then  did  the  judge  say  to  him,  Hast  thou  any 
more  to  say  1 


faithful's  trial.  149 

Envy.  My  Lord,  I  could  say  much  more,  only 
I  would  not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet  if  need 
be,  when  the  other  gentlemen  have  given  in  their 
evidence,  rather  than  any  thing  shall  be  wanting 
that  will  dispatch  him,  I  will  enlarge  my  testimony 
against  him.  So  he  was  bid  to  stand  by. 

Then  they  called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look 
upon  the  prisoner.    They  also  asked,    superstition 
what  he  could  say  for  their  lord  the       ^°^^°^'- 
king  against  him.     Then   they  sware  him ;  so  he 
began : 

Super.  My  lord,  1  have  no  great  acquaintance 
with  this  man,  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  further 
knowledge  of  him.  However,  this  I  know,  that  he 
is  a  very  pestilent  fellow,  from  some  discourse  that 
had  with  him,  the  other  day,  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  saying  of 
his,  my  lord,  your  lordship  very  well  knows  what 
necessarily  thence  will  follow,  to  wit,  that  we  still 
do  worship  in  vain,  are  yet  in  our  sins,  and  finally 
shall  be  damned :  and  this  is  that  which  I  have 
to  say. 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what 
he  knew  in  the  behalf  of  their  lord  the  king 
against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 

Pick.  My  lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  this  fel- 
low I  have  known  of  a  long  time,  and  pickthank-a  to* 
have  heard  him  speak  things  that  ought       timony. 


150  faithful's  trial. 

not  to  be  spoken  ;   lor  he  hath  laiicil  on  onr  nobJo 

prince  Beelzebub,  and  hatli*spoken  contemptibly 

of  his  honorable   iVieuds,   whose   names    aj"e,(  llie 

„    Lord  Old  iMan,   the  Lord  Carnal  l)e- 

Miis  are    jUI 

lords, luuigmii   lio-ht,  the  Lord  Luxurious,   the  liord 

ones.  .  ,      ,    . 

Desire  of  A'ain  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  tliese  noblemen  should  have  any  longer  a 
being  in  this  town.  Besides,  he  hath  not  been 
afraid  to  rail  on  you,  my  lord,  who  are  now  ap- 
pointed to  be  his  judge,  calling  you  an  ungodly 
villain,  with  many  other  such  like  vilifying  terms, 
with  which  he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the  gentry 
of  our  town. 

AVhen  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  the 
judge  directed  his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the 
bar,  saying.  Thou  runagate,  heretic,  and  traitor, 
hast  thou  heard  what  these  honest  gentlemen  have 
witnessed  against  thee  1 

Faith.  May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own 
defence  ? 

Judge.  SiiTah,  sirrah,  thou  deservest  to  live  no 
longer,  but  to  be  slahi  immediately  upon  the  place  ; 
yet  that  all  men  may  see  our  gentleness  toward  thee, 
let  us  hear  what  thou,   vile  runagate,  hast  to  say. 

Faith.  1.  I  say,  then,  in  answer  to  what  Mr. 
FaitiiftiTa  de-  Envy  hatli  spoken,  I  never  said  aught 
^ce  of  him-   but  tijis,  that  what  rule,   or  laws,   or 


faithful's  reply.  151 

custom,  or  people,  were  flat  against  the  word  of 
God,  are  diametrically  opposite  to  Christianity. 
If  I  have  said  amiss  in  this,  convince  me  of  my 
enor,  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, 
whatever  is  thrust  into  the  worship  of  God,  that  is 
not  agreeable  to  divine  revelation,  cannot  be  done 
but  by  a  human  faith,  which  faith  will  not  be  pro- 
fitable to  eternal  life. 

3.  As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  I  say, 
(avoiding  terms,  as  that  I  am  said  to  rail,  and  the 
like,)  that  the  prince  of  this  town,  with  all  the  rab- 
blemcnt,  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   speech  to  the 

•^  *^  jury. 

man  about  whom  so  great  an  uproar 
hath  been  made  in  this  town  ;  you  have  also  heard 
what  these  worthy  gentlemen  have  witnessed 
against  him ;  also  you  have  heard  his  reply  and 
confession ;  it  lieth  now  in  your  breasts  to  hang 
him,  or  save  his  life ;  but  yet  I  think  meet  to  in- 
stinct you  in  our  law. 


152  CHARGE    TO    THE     JURY. 

There  was  an  act  made  in  the  clays  of  Pharaoh 
the  great,  servant  to  our  prince,  that,  lest  those  of 
a  contrary  religion  should  multiply,  and  grow  too 
stronof  for  him,  their  males  should*  be  thrown  into 
ihe  river.  Exod.  1  :  22.  There  was  also  an  act 
made  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar  the  great, 
another  of  his  servants,  that  whoever  would  not 
fall  dov/n  and  worship  his  golden  image  should  be 
thrown  into  a  fiery  furnace.  Dan.  3  :  6.  There 
was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  that 
whoso  for  some  time  called  upon  any  God  but  him, 
should  be  cast  into  the  lion's  den.  Dan.  6  :  7. 
Now  the  substance  of  these  laws  this  rebel  has 
broken,  not  only  in  thought,  (which  is  not  to  be 
borne,)  but  also  in  word  and  deed ;  which  must, 
therefore,  needs  be  intolerable. 

For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  law  was  made  upon  a 
supposition  to  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  that  he  hath  al- 
ready confessed,  he  deserveth  to  die  the  death. 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  names  were  Mr. 
Blindman,  Mr.  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love- 
lust,  Mr.  Live-loose,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr.  Highmind, 
'Mr.  Enmity,  Mr.  Liar,  Mr.  Cruelty,  Mr.  Hate- 
light,  and  Mr.  Implacable  ;  who  every  one  gave  in 
his  private  verdict  against  him  among  themselves, 
and  afterward  unanimously  concluded  to  bring  him 
in  guilty  before  the  judge.   And  first  among  them- 


FAITHFUL    CONDEMNED.  153 

selves,  Mr.  Blindman,  the  foreman,  said,  I  see 
clearly  tliat  this  man  is  a  heretic.  Then  said  Mr. 
No-good,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth. 
Ay,  said  Mr.  Malice,  for  I  hate  the  very  looks  of 
him.  Then  said  Mr.  Love-lust,  I  could  never  en- 
dure him.  Nor  I,  said  Mr.  Live-loose,  for  he 
would  always  be  condemning  my  way.  Hang  him, 
hang  him,  said  Mr.  Heady.  A  sorry  scrub,  said 
Mr.  Highraind.  My  heart  riseth  against  him,  said 
Mr.  Enmity.  He  is  a  rogue,  said  Mr.  Liar.  Hang- 
ing is  too  good  for  him,  said  Mr.  Cruelty.  Let  us 
despatch  him  out  of  the  way,  said  Mr.  Hatelight. 
Then    said   Mr.   Implacable,    Might  I 

1  nn  iT«  TTT     They  conclude 

have  all  the  world  given  me,  i  could   to  bring  him  in 
not  be    reconciled  to  him  ;    therefore    ^^  ^° 
let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in  guilty  of  death. 

And  so  they  did  ;  therefore  he  was  presently 
condemned  to  be  had  from  the  place  where  he 
was,  to  the  place  from  whence  he  came,  and  there 
to  be  put  to  the  most  cruel  death  that  could  be 
invented. 

They,  therefore,  brought  him  out,  to  do  with 
him  according  to  their  law ;  and  first  they  scourged 
him,  then  they  buffeted  him,  then  they  The  cmei  death 
lanced  his  flesh  with  knives  ;  after  that  ^^  ^^^^^"'• 
they  stoned  him  with  stones  ;  then  pricked  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- 


154  faithful's  martyrdom. 

tudo  a  chariot  and  a  couple  of  horses  waiting  for 
Faithful,  who  (so  soon  as  his  adversaries  had  des- 
patched him)  was  taken  up  into  it,  and  straightway 
was  carried  up  through  the  clouds  with  sound  of 
trumpet,  the  neai"est  way  to  the  celestial  gate.  Biv 
Christian  is  stiu  as  for  Christian,  he  had  some  respite, 

a  ynsoner.  g^j-jj  ^y^g  remanded  back  to  prison  ;  so 
he  there  remained  for  a  space.  But  He  who  over- 
rules all  things,  having  the  power  of  their  rage  in 
his  own  hand,  so  wrought  it  about,  that  Christian 
for  that  time  escaped  tFem,  and  went  his  way. 

And  as  he  went  he  sang,  saying, 

■^Vell,   Faithful,  thou  hast  faithfully  profest 
Unto  thy  Lord,  with  whom  thou  shalt  be  blest, 
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  killed  thee,  thou  art  yet  alive. 


Qil)c    Qcvtxiil)    0ta0je. 


i 


Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  Christian  went 
,  .  .     ,  not   forth  alone  ;  for  there    was    one 

rimstian  has 

another  com-      whose  name  was  Hopeful,  (being  so 

made   by   the  beholding  of  Christian 

and  Faithful  in  their  words  and  behavior,  in  their 

sufferings  at  the  fair,)  whojoinedhimself  unto  him, 


HOPEFUL   JOIXS    CHRISTIAN.  155 

aiifl  entering  into  a  brotherly  covenant,  told  him 
that  he  would  be  his  companion.  Thus  one  died 
to  beai'  testimony  to  the  truth,  and  another  rises  out 
of  his  ashes  to  be  a  companion  with  Christian  in  his 

pilgrimage.      This    Hopeful     also     told    Therearcmore 

Christian,  that  there  were  many  more    ^J  t^e  men  of 

•^  the  fair  will  fol- 

of  the  men  in  the  fair  that  would  take    low. 
their  time  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw,  that  quickly  after  they  were  got  out 
of  the  fair  they  overtook  one  that  was    ^ 

•'  They  overtake 

going  before  them,  whose  name  was  By-ends. 
By-ends ;  so  they  said  to  him,  What  countryman, 
sir  ?  and  how  far  go  you  this  way  1  He  told  them 
that  he  came  from  the  town  of  Fair-speech,  and 
he  was  going  to  the  celestial  city ;  but  told  them 
not  his  name. 

From  Fair-speech  1  said  Christian  ;  is  there  any 
good  that  lives  there  ]    Prov.  26   :   25. 

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

Chr.  Pray,  sir,  what  may  I  call  you?  said 
Christian. 

By.  I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  you  to  me:  if 
you  be  going  this  way  I  shall  be  glad  By-ends  loth  to 
of  your  company;  if  not,  I  must  be  ^^^*«"«°^«- 
Content. 

Chr.  This  town  of  Fair-speech,  said  Christian, 
J  have  heard  of;  and,  as  I  remember,  they  say  it's 
a  wealthy  place. 

By.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is ;  and  I  have 
very  many  rich  kindred  there. 


156  DISCOURSE    WITH    BY-ENDS. 

( *HK.  Pray  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if  a 
man  may  be  so  bold  ? 

By.  Almost  the  whole  town ;  and  in  particular 
my  Lord  Turnabout,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my 
Lord  Fair-speech,  from  whose  ancestors  that  town 
first  took  its  name  ;  also  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr. 
Facing-both-ways,  Mr.  Any-thing ;  and  the  parson 
of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two-tongues,  was  my  mother's 
own  brother,  by  father's  side  ;  and,  to  tell  you  the 
truth,  I  am  become  a  gentleman  of  good  quality ; 
yet  my  great  grandfather  was  but  a  waterman, 
looking  one  way  and  rowing  another,  and  I  got 
most  of  my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

Chr.  Are  you  a  married  man? 

By.  Yes,  and  my  wife  is  a  very  virtuous  woman, 
the  daughter  .  of  a  virtuous   woman ; 

The   wife   and       .  ^  .       .  ^  , 

kindred  of  By-  she  was  my  Lady  b  eigmng  s  daugh- 
ter ;  therefore  she  came  of  a  very  hon- 
orable family,  and  is  arrived  to  such  a  pitch  of 
breeding  that  she  knows  how  to  cany  it  to  all, 
even  to  prince  and  peasant.  'Tis  true,  we  some- 
what differ  in  religion  from  those  of 
dififcrsfromoth-   the  Stricter  sort,  yet  but  in  two  small  ■ 

ers  in  religion.  '    ^         n      ^  ^   •  •      ^     • 

points  ;  nrst,  we  never  strive  against    ■ 
v/ind  and  tide.    Secondly,  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  him. 

Then  Christian  stepped  a  little  aside  to  his  fel- 
low Hopeful,  saying,  it  runs  in  my  mind  that  this 


DISCOURSE    WITH    BY-ENDS.  157 

is  one  By-ends,  of  Fair-speech  ;  and  if  it  be  he, 
we  have  as  very  a  knave  in  our  company  as  dwcll- 
eth  in  all  these  parts.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask 
him ;  methinks  he  should  not  be  ashamed  of  his 
name.  So  Christian  came  up  with  him  again,  and 
."^^aid,  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  1 

By.  This  is  not  my  name  ;  but,  indeed,  it  is  a 
nick-name  that  is  given  me  by  some  that  cannot 
abide  me,  and  I  must  be  content  to  bear  it  as  a  re- 
proach, as  other  good  men  have  borne  theirs  be- 
fore me. 

Chr.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion  to  men 
to  call  you  by  this  name  1 

By.  Never,  never  !  The  worst  that  ever  I  did  to 
give  them  an  occasion  to  give  me  this  jj^^^  By-ends 
name  was,  that  I  had  always  the  luck  s^^  ^^^  "^«- 
to  jump  in  my  judgement  with  the  present  way  of 
the  times,  whatever  it  was,  and  my  chance  was  to 
get  thereby ;  but  if  things  are  thus  cast  upon  me, 
let  me  count  them  a  blessing ;  but  let  not  the  mali- 
cious load  me,  therefore,  with  reproach. 

Chr.  I  thought,  indeed,  that  you  were  the  man 

that  I  heard  of;  and  to  tell  you  what  I  think,  ] 

fear  this  name  belongs  to  you  more  properly  than 

you  are  willino:  we  should  think  it  doth.    ,.     •■    . 

'  o  He   desires    to 

By.  Well,  if  vou  will  thus  imagine,   keep  comptmy 

,     ,      .  n     T  ^^^  Christian. 

I  cannot  help  it ;  you  shall  find  me  a 


158  BY-ENDS    BY    HIMSELF. 

fair  company -keeper,  if  you  will  still  admit  me 
your  associate. 

Chr.  If  you  will  go  with  us,  you  must  go  against 
wind  and  tide ;  the  which,  I  jDerceive,  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.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  lord  it  over 
my  faith ;  leave  me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me  go 
with  you. 

Chr.  Not  a  step  farther,  unless  you  will  do,  in 
what  I  propound,  as  we. 

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 

By-ends  and    ^g  J  ^[^[  before  vou  overtook  me,  even 

they  part.  '' 

go  by  myself  until  some  overtake  me 
that  will  be  glad  of  my  company. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  and 
Hopeful  forsook  him,  and  kept  their  distance  be- 
fore him  ;  but  one  of  them,  looking  back,  saw  threo 
men  following  Mr.  By-ends ;  and,  behold,  as  they 
came  up  with  him,  he  made  them  a  very  low  con- 
gee ;   and  they  also  gave  him  a  compliment.     The 

men's    names    were,     Mr.    Hold-the- 
He  .has  new   ^vrorld,  Mr.  Monev-love,  and  Mr.  Savo- 

corapanions.  '  •'  ' 

all,  men  that  Mr.  By-ends  had  former- 
ly been  acquainted  with,  for  in  their  minority  they 
were  school-fellows,   and  were  taught  by  one  Mr 


DISCOURSE    OF    BY-ENDS.  159 

Gripeman,  a  schoolmaster  in  Lovegain,  which  is  a 
market-town  in  the  county  of  Coveting,  in  the 
North.  This  schoolmaster  taught  them  the  art  of 
getting,  either  by  violence,  cozenage,  flattering, 
lying,  or  by  putting  on  a  guise  of  religion ;  and 
these  four  gentlemen  had  attained  much  of  the  art 
of  their  master,  so  that  they  could  each  of  them 
have  kept  such  a  school  themselves. 

Well,  when  they  had,  as  I  said,  thus  saluted 
each  other,  ]Mr.  Money-love  said  to  Mr.  By-ends, 
Who  are  they  upon  the  road  before  us  1  for  Chris- 
tian  and  Hopeful  were  yet  within  view. 

By.  They  are  a  couple  of  far  coun-      „      ^  ,  , 

*'  _  ■••  By-ends'  cna- 

trymen,  that,  after  their  mode,  are  ero-   racter  of  the 

.*'...  °         pilgrims. 

mg  on  pilgi'image. 

Money.  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. 

By.  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  ever  so  godly,  yet  if  he  jumps 
not  with  them  in  all  things,  they  thrust  him  quite 
out  of  their  company. 

Save.  That  is  bad;  but  we  read  of  some  that 
are  righteous  over  much,  and  such  men's  ligid- 
ness  prevails  with  them  to  judge  and  condemn 
all  but  themselves.  But  I  pray,  what,  and  how 
many,  were  the  things  wherein  you  differed  1 


160  DISCOURSE    OF    BY-ENDS 

By.  Why  they,  after  their  headstrong  manner, 
concltide  that  it  is  their  duty  to  rush  on  their  jour- 
ney 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  secuii' 
my  life  and  estate.  They  are  for  holding  their  no- 
tions, though  all  other  men  be  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  silver  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.  It  is  best  to  make  hay 
while  the  sun  shines.  You  see  how  the  bee  lieth 
still  in  winter,  and  bestirs  her  only  when  she  can 
have  profit  with  pleasure.  God  sends  sometimes 
rain*  and  sometimes  sunshine  :  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  se^ 
curity  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  ]i 
Abraham  and  Solomon  grew  rich  in  religion;  andj 
Job  says,  that  a  good  man  shall  lay  up  gold 


AND    HIS    COMPANIONS.  161 

dust ;  but  he  must  not  be  such  as  the  men  before 
us,  if  they  be  as  you  have  described  them. 

Save.  I  think  that  we  are  all  agreed  in  this 
matter ;  and  therefore  there  needs  no  more  words 
about  it. 

Money.  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.  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  1 

Money.  I  see  the  bottom  of  your  question  ; 
and  with  the  gentlemen's  good  leave  I  will  en- 
deavor to  shape  you  an  answer.  And  first,  to  speak 
to  your  question  as  it  concerneth  a  minister  him- 
self: suppose  a  minister,  a  worthy  man,  possessed 
but  of  a  very  small  benefice,  and  has  in  his  eye  a 
greater,  more  fat  and  plump  by  far ;  he  has  also 
now    an  opportunity  of  getting  it,  yet  so  as  by 

Pil.  Progress.  H 


IG2  DISCOURSE    OF    BY-ENDS 

being  more  studious,  by  preaching  more  frequent- 
ly and  zealously,  and,  because  tlie  temper  of  the 
people  requires  it,  by  altering  of  some  of  his  prin- 
ciples ;  for  my  pait,  I  see  no  reason  why  a  man 
may  not  do  this,  provided  he  has  a  call,  ay,  and 
more  a  gieat  deal  besides,  and  yet  be  an  honest 
man.    For  why  ] 

1.  His  desii-e  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful, 
(this  cannot  be  contradicted,)  since  it  is  set  before 
him  by  Providence ;  so  then  he  may  get  it  if  he 
can,  making  no  question  for  conscience  sake. 

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

3.  Now,  as  for  his  complying  with  the  temper 
of  his  people,  by  deserting,  to  serve  them,  some  ol 
his  principles,  this  argueth,  1.  That  he  is  of  a  self- 
denying  temper.  2.  Of  a  sweet  and  winning  de- 
portment. And,  3.  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  j  but  rather,  since  he  is  im- 
proved in  his  parts  and  industry  thereby,  be  count- 
ed as  one  that  pursues  his  call,  and  the  opportu- 
nity put  into  his  hand  to  do  good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question, 
wbich    concerns   the   tradesman   you   mentioned 


AND    HIS    COMPANIONS.  163 

Suppose  such  a  one  to  have  but  a  poor  employ  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  this  may  be  lawfully  done. 
For  why  ] 

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

2.  Nor  is  it  unla^vful  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  ^Ir.  Money-love  to 
Mr.  By-ends'  question  was  highly  ppplauded  by 
them  all;  wherefore  they  conrluded  upon  the 
whole,  that  it  was  most  wholesome  and  advanta- 
geous. And  because,  as  they  thought,  no  man  was 
able  to  contradict  it ;  and  because  Christian  and 
Hopeful  were  yet  ^vithin  call,  they  jointly  agreed 
o  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 
hem,  and  they  stopped  and  stood  still  till  they 
same  up  to  them ;  but  they  concluded  as  they 
^ent,  that  not  Mr.  By-ends,  but  old  Mr.  Hold-the- 


164  MR.    HOLD-THE-WORLD. 

World,  should  propound  the  question  to  them,  be- 
cause, as  they  supposed,  their  answer  to  him  would 
be  "without  the  remainder  of  that  heat  that  was 
kindled  bet^^-ixt  Mr.  By-ends  and  them  at  their 
parting  a  little  before. 

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

Then  said  Christian,  Even  a  babe  in  religion 
may  answer  ten  thousand  such  questions.  For  if  it 
be  unla\vful  to  follow  Christ  for  loaves,  as  it  is, 
John,  6  :  26  ;  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  wizards, 
that  are  of  this  opinion  : 

1.  Heathens :    for   when  Hamor  and  Shechem 
had  a  mind  tn  the  daughter  and  cattle  of  Jacob, 
and  saw  that  the^e  was  no  way  for  them  to  come 
at  them  but  by   being  circumcised,   they  said  to 
their  companions.  If  every  male  of  us  be  circup^- 
cised,  as  they  are  circumcised,  shall  not  their  c 
tie,  and  their  substance,  and  every  beast  of  theirs  . 
be  ours  1     Their  daughters  and  their  cattle  were 
that  which  they  sought  to  obtain,  and  their  religi' 
the    stalking-horse  they  made  use    of  to  come  at, 
them.     Read  the  whole  story,   Gen.  34  :  20-24. 

2.  The  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  also  of  this 
religion :  long  prayers  were  their  pretence ;  but  to 


AND    HIS    COMPANIONS.  165 

get  widows'  houses  was  their  intent,  and  greater 
damnation  was  from  God  their  judgement.  Luke, 
20  :  46,  47. 

3.  Judas  the  devil  was  also  of  this  religion  :  he 
was  religious  for  the  bag,  that  he  might  be  pos- 
sessed of  what  was  put  therein  ;  but  he  was  lost, 
cast  away,  and  the  very  son  of  perdition. 

4.  Simon,  the  wizard,  was  of  this  religion  too ; 
for  he  would  have  had  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he 
might  have  got  money  therewith  :  and  his  sentence 
from  Peter's  mouth  was  according.  Acts,  8  :  19-22. 

o.  Neither  will  it  go  out  of  my  mind,  but  that 
that  man  who  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, 
affimiatively,  as  I  perceive  you  have  done,  and  to 
accept  of  (as  authentic)  such  answer,  is  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  Christian's  an- 
swer ;  so  there  was  a  gi^eat  silence  among  them. 
?«lr.  By-ends  and  his  company  also  staggered,  and 
kept  behind,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful  might 
outgo  them.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  If 
tliese  men  cannot  stand  before  the  sentence  of  men, 
what  will  they  do  with  the  sentence  of  God  ]  And 


166  DEMAS    INVITES    THE 

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  1 

Then    Christian    and    Hopeful    outv/ent    them 

again,  and  went  till  they  came  at  a  dc- 

The  ease  that  Hcate   plain,   called  Ease,  where  they 

piijmms     have  i  '  '  •' 

IS  but  uttie  in   went    with   much    content :    but    that 

this  life.  ,  ' 

plain  was  but  narrow,  so  they  were 
quickly  got  over  it.  Now  at  the  farther  side  of  that 
plain  was  a  little  hill,  called  Lucre,  and  in  that 
hill  a  silver  mine,  which  some  of  them  that  had 
formerly  gone  that  way,  because  of  the  rarity  of  it, 
had  turned  aside  to  see ;  but  going  too  near  the 

brim  of  the  pit,  the  ground,  being  de- 
Lucre-hill  a   eeitful   under  them,   broke,  and  they 

dangerous  hill.  _  '  . 

were  slain  :  some  also  had  been  maim- 
ed there,  and  could  not,  to  their  dying  day,  be 
their  own  men  ao^ain. 

Demas  at  the  Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  a  lit- 
hiii  Lucre.  j|g  ^^  ^i^g  j,^^^^  over-against  the  silver 
mine,  stood  Demas,  (gentleman-like,)  to  call  pas- 
He  calls  to  sengers  to  come  and  see  ;  who  said  to 
Hol^ful'tocome  Christian  and  his  fellow,  Ho  !  turn  aside 
^  ^^™^-  hither,  and  I  will  show  you  a  thing. 

Chr.  What  thing  so  deserving  as  to  turn  us 
out  of  the  way  to  see  it  ] 

Demas.  Here  is  a  silver  mine,  and  some 
digging  in  it  for  treasure ;  if  you  will  come, 
with  a  little  pains  you  may  richly  provide  for 
yourselves. 


PILGRIMS    TO    TURN    ASIDE.  167 

Hope.  Then  said  Hopeful,  let  us  Hopeful  tempted 

^  to  £jo,  but  Christi- 

n^O  see.  an  holds  him  back. 

Chr.  Not  I,  said  Christian  ;  I  have  heard  oi 
this  place  before  now,  and  how  many  there  have 
been  slain ;  and,  besides,  that  treasure  is  a  snare 
to  those  that  seek  it,  for  it  hindereth  them  in  their 
pilgrimage. 

Then  Christian  called  to  Demas,  saying,  Is  not 
the  place  dangerous  1  Hath  it  not  hindered  many 
in  their  pilgrimage  ] 

Demas.  Not  very  dangerous,  except  to  those 
that  are  careless ;  but  Avithal,  he  blushed  as  he 
spake. 

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

Hope.  I  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends 
comes  up,  if  he  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:mas.  Then  Demas  called  again,  saying, 
but  will  you  not  come  over  and  see  1 

Chr.  Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying, 
Demas,  thou  art  an  enemy  to  the  right  ways  of  the 
Lgrd  of  this  way,  and  hast  been  already  condemn- 
ed for  thine  own  turning  aside,  by  one  of  his  Ma- 
jesty's judges,  2  Tim.  4:13;  and  why  seekest 
thou  to  bring  us  into  the  like  condemnation  1  Be- 
sides, if  we  at  all  turn  aside,  our  Lord  the  King 


168  BY-EXDS    JOINS    DEMAS. 

will  certainly  hear  thereof,  and  will  there  put  us  to 
shame,  where  we  would  stand  A\dth  boldness  be- 
fore him. 

Demas  cried  again,  that  he  also  was  one  of  their 
fiateraity  ;  and  that  if  they  would  tarry  a  little  he 
also  himself  would  walk  with  them. 

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

Demas.  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  in  their  steps  ;  it  is  but  a  devilish  prank  that 
thou  usest :  thy  father  was  hanged  for  a  traitor, 
and  thou  deservest  no  better  reward.  2  Kings, 
5  :  20-27;  Matt.  26  :  14,  15;  27:  3-5.  Assure 
thyself,  that  when  we  come  to  the  King  we  will 
tell  him  of  this  thy  behavior.  Thus  they  went 
their  way. 

By  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions  were 
By-ends  goes  co!^©  again  within  sight,  and  they  at 
over  to  Demas.  ^he  first  beck  Went  over  to  Demas. 
Now,  whether  they  fell  into  the  pit  by  looking 
over  the  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went  down 
to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered  in  the 
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 
sans:  Christian  : 


THE    PILLAR.  1G9 

By-ends  and  silver  Demas  both  agree  ; 
One  calls,  tlie  other  runs,  that  he  may  be 
A  sharer  in  his  lucre  :  so  these  two 
Take  up  in  this  world,  and  no  fartlier  go. 

Now  I  saw  that,  just  on  the  other  side  of  this 
plain  the  pilgi'ims  came  to  a  place  ^^^  ^^  ^ 
where  stood  an  old  monument  hard  by   strange  monu- 

•'     ment. 

the  highway-side,  at  the  sight  of  which 
they  were  both  concerned,' because  of  the  strange- 
ness of  the  form  thereof:  for  it  seemed  to  them  as 
if  it  had  been  a  woman  transformed  into  the  shape 
of  a  pillar.  Here,  therefore,  they  stood  looking  and 
looking  upon  it,  but  could  not  for  a  time  tell  what 
they  should  make  thereof  At  last  Hopeful  espied, 
written  above  upon  the  head  thereof,  a  writing  in 
an  unusual  hand ;  but  he  being  no  scholar,  car.etl 
to  Christian  (for  he  was  leai-ned)  to  see  if  he  could 
pick  out  the  meaning:  so  he  came,  and  after  a 
little  laying  of  letters  together  he  found  the  same 
to  be  this,  "  Remember  Lot's  wife."  So  he  read 
it  to  his  fellow ;  after  which  they  both  concluded 
that  that  was  the  pillar  of  salt  into  which  Lot's 
wife  was  turned  for  herlookino^  back  with  a  covet- 
ous  heart  when  she  was  ffoinsr  from  Sodom  for 
safety.  Gen.  19  :  26.  Which  sudden  and  amazing 
sight  gave  them  occasion  for  this  discourse. 

Chr.  Ah !  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable 
sight,  it  came  opportunely  to  us  after  the  invitation 
which  Demas  gave  us  to  come  over  to  •  view  the 


170  DISCOURSE    ABOUT 

hill  Lucre;  and  had  we  gone  over,  as  he  desired- 
us,  and  as  thou  wast  inclined  to  do,  my  brother,  , 
we  had,  for  aught  I  know,   been   made,  like  this 
woman,  a  spectacle  for  those  that  shalLcome  after 
to  behold. 

Hope.  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  so  foolish,  and 
am  made  to  wonder  that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot's 
wife  ;  for  wherein  was  the  difference  betwixt  her 
sin  and  mine  ]  She  only  looked  back,  and  I  had  a 
desire  to  go  see.  Let  grace  be  adored  j  and  let 
me  be  ashamed  that  ever  such  a  thing  should  be  in  j 
mine  heart.  ' 

Chr.    Let  us  take  notice  of  what  we  see  here, 
for  our  help  for  time  to  come.  This  woman  escap- 
ed one  judgement,  for  she  fell  not  by  the  destruc- •• 
tion  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  cau- 
tion and  examj)le  ;  caution,  that  we  should  shun  ;' 
her  sin,  or  a  sign  of  what  judgement  will  overtake  | 
such  as  shall  not  be  prevented  by  this  caution  ;  so  ^ 
Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram,  with  the  two  hun-  I 
dred  and  fifty  men  that  perished  in  their  sin,  did  \ 
also  become  a  sign  or  example  to  others  to  be-  ; 
ware.  Numb.  16  :  31,  32;  26  :  9,  10.  But  abova  | 
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  look-  il 
ing  behind  her  after  (for  we  read  not  that  she  f 
stepped  one  foot  out  of  the  way)  was  turned  into  | 

! 


lot's  wife.  171 

a  pillar  of  salt;  especially  since  the  judgement 
which  overtook  her  did  make  her  an  example 
within  sight  of  where  they  are  ;  for  they  cannot 
choose  but  see  her,  did  they  but  lift  up  their  eyes. 
Chr.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and  it 
argueth  that  their  hearts  are  grown  desperate  in 
the  case ;  and  I  cannot  tell  who  to  compare  them 
to  so  fitly,  as  to  them  that  pick  pockets  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  judge,  or  that  will  cut  purses  under 
the  gallows.  It  is  said  of  the  men  of  Sodom,  that 
they  were  "  sinners  exceedingly,"  because  they 
■  were  sinners  "  before  the  Lord,"  that  is,  in  his 
eye-sight  and  notwithstanding  the  kindnesses  that 
he  had  showed  them ;  for  the  land  of  Sodom  was 
now  like  the  garden  of  Eden  heretofore.  Gen. 
13  :  10-13.  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. 
An(\  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  examj^les  that 
are  set  continually  before  them  to  caution  them 
to  the  contrary,  must  be  partakers  of  severest 
;  judgements. 

i  Hope.  Doubtless  thou  hast  said  the  truth  ;  but 
Iwhat  a  mercy  is  it  that  neither  thou,  but  especially 
!  I,  am  not  made  myself  this  example  !  This  minis- 
\\  tereth  occasion  to  us  to  thank  God,  to  fear  before 
1 1  him,  and  always  to  remember  Lot's  wife. 
')      I  saw  then  that  they  went  on  their  way  to  a 


172  THE    RIVER   OF    LIFE. 

pleasant  river,  which  David  the  king  called  "  the 
river  of  God  ;"  but  John,  "  the  river  of  the  water 
of  life."    Ps.  65:9;   Rev.  22  :  1 ;  Ezek.  47  :  1-9. 
.    .  Now  their  way  lay  just  upon  the  bank 

of  this  river:  here,  therefore,  Christiau 
and  his  companion  walked  with  great  delight ; 
they  drank  also  of  the  water  of  the  river,  which 
w:is  pleasant  and  enlivening  to  their  weary  spirits. 
Trees  by  the  Besides,  on  the  banks  of  this  river,  on 
river.  either  side,  were  green  trees  with  all 

manner  of  fruit :  and  the  leaves  they  ate  to  pre- 
vent surfeits,  and  other  diseases  that 
leaves  of  Ihe    are   incident  to  those   that  heat   their 
^^^^'  blood  by  travel.    On  either  side  of  the 

river  was  also  a  meadow,  curiously  beautified  with 
lilies ;   and  it  was   gi-een   all  the  year 

A   meadow  m  .  "  *' 

which  they  Ue   louff.     In  this  meadow  they  lay  down 

down  to  sleep  5^ 

and  slept,  for  here  they  might  lie  dowTi 
safely.  Ps.  23  :  2  ;  Isa.  f4  :  30.  When  they  awoke 
they  gathered  again  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees,  and 
drank  again  of  the  water  of  the  river,  and  then 
lay  down  again  to  sleep.  Thus  they  did  several 
days  and  nights.    Then  they  sang, 

Behold  ye  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  who  can  tell 
What  pleasant  fruit,  yea,  leaves,  these  trees  do  yield, 
Will  soon  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  field. 


BY-PATH    MEADOW.  173 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on,  (for  the}? 
were  not  as  yet  at  their  journey's  end,)  they  ate, 
and  drank,  and  departed. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  had  not 
journeyed  far,  but  the  river  and  the  way  for  a  time 
parted,  at  which  tliey  were  not  a  little  soiTy;  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  souls  of  the  pilgi'ims 
were  much  discouraged  because  of  the  way.  Numb. 
21:4.  Wherefore  still  as  they  went  on,  they  wished 
for  a  better  way.    Now  a  little  before 

•'  By-patn  mea- 

them,  there  was  on  the  left  hand  of  the  ^o"^- 

road  a  meadow  and  a  stile  to  go  over  into  it,  and 
that  meadow  is  called  By-path  meadow.  Then  said 
Christian  to  his  fellow,  If  this  meadow  lieth  along 
by  our  way-side,  let's  go  over  into  it.  Then  he 
went  to  the  stile  to  see,  and  behold  a  path  lay  along 
by  the  way  on  the  other  side  of  the 

_  -r       •  T  ^  •  1       One  temptation 

fence,    it    is   accordmg  to   my  wish,   makes  way  for 

said   Chi'istian;    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  ] 

Chr.  That  is  not  likely,  said  the  other.  Look, 
cloth  it  not  go  along  by  the  way-side  ]  So  Hope- 
ful, being  persuaded  by  his  fellow, 
went  after  him  over  the  stile.  When  tianTLay  lead 
they  were  gone  over,  and  were  got  into  J'^^  °^^^  °^* 
die  path,  they  found  it  very  easy  for 


174  VAIX-CONFIDENCE    LOST. 

their  feet ;  and  withal,  they  looking  before  them,  es- 
pied a  man  walking  as  they  did,  and  his  name  was 
Vain-Confidence  :  so  they  called  after 
6udd2?y'!?Ikn  ^^^"^'  ^"^  asked  him  whither  that  way 
in   wiih  stran-   led.    He  Said,  To  the  Celestial  Gate. 

gers. 

Look,  said  Christian,  did  not  I  tell 
you  so  1  by  this  you  may  see  we  are  right.  So 
they  followed,  and  he  went  before  them.  But  be- 
hold the  night  came  on,  and  it  grew  very  dark  ; 
so  that  they  that  went  behind  lost  the  sight  of 
him  that  went  before. 

He  therefore  that  went  before,  (Vain-Confidence 
A  pit  to  catch  the  by  name,)  not  seeing  the  way  before 
mm,  tell  mto  a  deep  pit,  which  was 
on  purpose  there  made,  by  the  prince  of  those 
grounds,  to  catch  vain-glorious  fools  withal,  and 
was  dashed  in  pieces  with,  his  fall.     Isa.  9  :  16. 

Now  Christian  and  his  fellow  heard  him  fall.  So 
they  called  to  know  the  matter,  but  there  was  none 
to  answer,  only  they  heard  a  groaning.  Then  said 
H(jpeful,  Where  are  we  now  ]  Then  was  his  fel- 
low silent,  as  mistrusting  that  he  had  led  him  out 
of  the  way  ;  and  now  it  began  to  rain,  and  thunder 
and  lighten  in  a  most  dreadful  manner,  and  the 
water  rose  amain. 

Reasoning  be-  Then  Hopeful  groaned  in  himself, 
S^'Sxd  H^  saying.  Oh  that  I  had  kept  on  my  way  ! 
^  Chr.  Who  could  have  thought  that 

this  path  should  have  led  us  out  of  the  way  1 

Hope.  I  was  afraid  on't  at  the  very  first,  and 


PILGRIMS    IN    TROUBLE.  175 

therefore  gave  you  that  gentle  caution.     I  would 

have  spoken  plainer,  but  that  you  are  older  than  I 

Chr.  G  ood  brother,  be  not  offend-      ^,  .  .    . 

Christian  3  ro- 

ed  ;   I  am  soiTy  1  have  broudit  thee      pemmice   ibr 
out  or  the  way,  and  that  1  have  put      brother  out  ct 

,  .  ...  ,  -r,  the  way. 

thee  into  such  nnmment  danger.  Fray, 

my  brother,  forgive  me  ;  1  did  not  do  it  of  an  ev:' 

intent. 

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  bro- 
ther ;  but  we  must  not  stand  here ;  let  us  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,  be- 
cause by  my  means  we  are  both  gone  out  of  the  way. 

Hope.  No,  said  Hopeful,  you  shall  not  go  first, 
for  your  mind  being  troubled  may  lead  you  out  of 
the  way  again.  Then  for  their  encouragement  they 
heard  the  voice  of  one  saying,  **  Let  thine  heart  bo 
toward  the  highway,  even  the  way  that  thou  went- 
est  turn  again."  Jer.  31  :  21.  But  by  this  time 
the  waters  were  greatly  risen,  by  rea- 

r       T,-    1      1  C         •  -U      1      They  are  in  dan. 

son  01  which  the  way  oi  going  back   ger  of  diovmin? 
was  veiy  dangerous.  (Then  I  thought  ^    ^^^° 
that  it  is  easier  going  out  of  the  way  when  we  are 
in,  than  going  in  when  we  are  out.)    Yet  they  ad- 
ventured to  go  back  ;  but  it  was  so  dark,  and  the 


176  GIANT    DESPAIR. 

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 
Uie  giounds  of  dowu  there  till  the  day  brake  ;  but, 
Giaiit  Despair.  ^^.^^  ^^e^yj^  they  fell  asleep.  Now 
there  was,  not  far  from  the  place  where  they  lay,  a 
castle,  called  Doubting  Castle,  the  owner  where- 
of wels  Giant  Despair,  and  it  was  in  his  grounds 
they  now  were  sleeping  :  wherefore  he,  getting  up 
in  the  morning  early,  and  walking  up  and  down 
in  his  fields,  caught  Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep 
in  his  gi'ounds.  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 
lold  him  they  were  pilgrims,  and  that  they  had  . 
lost  their  way.  Then  said  the  giant,  You  have  this  j 
He  finds  them  in  night  trespassed  on  me  by  trampling 
ciSS^Sm^lo  in  and  lying  on  my  grounds,  and 
Doubting  Castle,  therefore  you  must  go  along  with  me. 
So  they  were  forced  to  go,  because  he  was  strong- 
er than  they.  They  also  had  but  little  to  say,  for 
they  knew  themselves  in  a  fault.  The  giant,  there- 
fore, drove  them  before  him,  and  put  them  into 

his  castle,  into  a  very  dark  dungeon, 
nefs  S^thS-    nasty,  and  stinking  to  the   spirits  of 

imprisonment      ^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^       jj^^^^  ^^^^^    ^^^^    j^^ 

from   Wednesday    morning   till    Saturday   night, 
without  one  bit  of  bread  or  drop  of  diink,  or  light, 


The  Giant  exulting  over  his  captives, — p.  176. 


GIANT    DESPAIR.  177 

or  any  to  ask  how  they  did  :  they  were,  tlierefore, 
here  in  evil  case,  and  were  far  from  friends  and 
acquaintance.  Psahn  88  :  18.  Now  in  this  place 
Christian  had  double  sorrow,  because  it  was 
through  his  unadvised  counsel  that  they  were 
brought  into  this  distress. 

Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  wife,  and  her  name 
was  Diffidence  :  so  when  he  was  gone  to  bed  he 
told  his  wife  what  he  had  done,  to  wit,  that  he  had 
taken  a  couple  of  prisoners,  and  cast  them  into  his 
dungeon  for  trespassing  on  his  grounds.  Then 
he  asked  her  also  what  he  had  best  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 
mercy.  So  when  he  arose  he  getteth  him  a  grie- 
vous crabtree  cudgel,  and  goes  down  into  the  dun- 
geon to  them,  and  there  first  falls  to  rating  of  them 
as  if  tney  were  dogs,  although  they  gave  him  ne- 
ver a  word  of  distaste.  Then  he  falls  upon  them, 
j  and  beats  them  fearfully,  in  such  sort  on  Thursday 
I  that  they  were  not  able  to  help  them-  ^'^^^  fZ^^^^'- 
selves,  or  to  turn  them  upon  the  floor,  eoners. 
I'his  done,  he  withdraws  and  leaves  them  there  to 
condole  their  misery,  and  to  mourn  under  their  dis- 
tress :  so  all  that  day  they  spent  their  time  in  no- 
thing but  sighs  and  bitter  lamentations.  T\:e  next 
night  she,  talking  with  her  husband  further  about 
ihem,  and  understanding  that  they  were  yet  alive, 

pa   Progress.  12 


178  THE    PILGRIMS    DISCOURSE 

did  advise  him  to  counsel  them  to  make  away  with 

On  Frida      themselvcs.     So    when   morning  was 

Giant  Despair    come  he  Qfoes  to  them  in  a  surly  man- 

to  kill  them-    ner,  as  before,  and  perceivmg  them  to 

eelves,  .  •  i       i  •  i  i 

be  very  sore  with  the  stripes  that  he 
bad  given  them  the  day  before,  he  told  them,  that 
since  they  were  never  like  to  come  out  of  that 
place,  their  only  way  would  be  forthwith  to  make 
an  end  of  themselves,  either  with  knife,  halter,  or 
poison :  for  why,  said  he,  should  you  choose  to  live, 
seeing  it  is  attended  with  so  much  bitterness  1 
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 
The  giant  some-  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits,  (for  he 
times  has  fits,  sometimes  in  sunshiny  weather  fell  in- 
to fits,)  and  lost  for  a  time  the  use  of  his  hands ; 
wherefore  he  withdrew,  and  left  them  as  before  to 
consider  what  to  do.  Then  did  the  prisoners  con- 
sult between  themselves,  whether  it  was  best  to 
take  his  counsel  or  no ;  and  thus  they  began  to  | 
discourse :  " 

CllR.    Brother,  said   Christian,  what    shall  we 
do  1    The  life  that  we  now  live  is  miserable.    For  ' 
my  part,   I  know  not  whether  it  is  best  to  live 

Christian      thus,  or  to  die  out  of  hand.    My  soul  ! 
cmshed.      chooseth   strangling   rather  than    life,  ^ 
and  the  grave  is  more  easy  for  me  than  this  dun> 
geon.  Job,  7:15.    Shall  we  be  ruled  by  the  giant  ?  | 

Hope.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dre(ul« 


IN    THE    DUNGEON.  179 

fill,  atid  death  would  be  far  more  welcome  to  me 
than  thus  for  ever  to  abide ;  but  yet  let  us  con- 
sider, the  Lord  of  the  country  to  which  we  are 
going  hath  said,  "  Thou  shalt  do  no  murder,"  no, 
not  to  another  man's  person ;  much  more  then  are 
we  forbidden  to  take  his  counsel  to  kill  ourselves. 
Besides,  he  that  kills  another,  can  but  commit 
murder  upon  his  body ;  but  for  one  to  kill  himself, 
is  to  kill  body  and  soul  at  once.  And,  moreover, 
my  brother,  thou  talkest  of  ease  in  the  Hopeful  com- 
grave,  but  hast  thou  forgotten  the  hell  foitahim. 
whither  for  certain  the  murderers  go  1  for  "  no 
murderer  hath  eternal  life,"  &:c.  And  let  us  con- 
sider 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  hands.  Who  knows  but 
that  God,  who  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  that  he  may, 
in  a  short  time,  have  another  of  his  fits  before  us, 
and  may  lose  the  use  of  his  limbs  ]  And  if  evei 
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,  how- 
c?ver,  my  brother,  let  us  be  patient,  and  endure  a 
while ;  the  time  may  come  that  may  give  us  a 
happy  release  ;  but  let  us  not  be  our  own  murder 
ers.    With  these  words  Hopeful   at  present  did 


ISO  DISCOURSE    IN    THE    DUNGEON. 

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  in- 
to the  dungeon  again,  to  see  if  his  prisoners  ha^l 
taken  his  counsel.  But  when  he  came  tl*ere  he 
found  them  alive ;  and  truly,  alive  was  all ;  for 
now,  what  for  want  of  bread  and  water,  and  by 
reason  of  the  wounds  they  received  when  he  beat 
them,  they  could  do  little  but  breathe.  But  I  say, 
he  found  them  alive ;  at  which  he  fell  into  a  grie- 
vous rage,  and  told  them,  that  seeing  they  had  dis- 
obeyed 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  swoon  ;  but  coming  a  little  to 
himself  again,  they  renewed  their  discourse  about 
the  giant's  counsel,  and  whether  yet  they  had  best 
take  it  or  no.  Now  Christian  again  seemed  for 
doing  it ;  but  Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as 
followeth : 

Hope.  My  brother,  said  he,  rememberest  thou 
Hopeftii  comforts  not  liow  valiant  thou  hast  been  here- 
iLfSerthfnS    toforo  ?     Apollyon  could   not  crush 

to  remembrance,     ^j^^^^    ^^^    ^q^|J    ^^    ^^^^    ^^^^^    j|^_|gj 

hear,  or  see,  or  feel,  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death.  What  hardship,  terror,  &,nd  amazement 
hast  thou  already  gone  through  !  and  art  thou  now 
nothing  but  fears  !  Thou  seest  that  I  am  in  the 
dungeon  with  thee,  a  far  weaker  man  by  nature 


THE    giant's    wife.  181 

than  thou  art.  Also  this  giant  hath  wounded  me 
as  well  as  thee,  and  hath  also  cut  off  the  bread  and 
water  from  my  mouth,  and  with  thee  I  mourn 
without  the  light.  But  let  us  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 ;  where- 
fore let  us  (at  least  to  avoid  the  shame  that  it  be- 
comes 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  conceniing 
the  prisoners,  and  if  they  had  taken  his  counsel : 
to  which  he  replied,  They  are  sturdy  rogues  ;  they 
choose  rather  to  bear  all  hardships  than  to  make 
away  with  themselves.  Then  said  she,  Take  them 
into  the  castle-yard  to-mon'ow,  and  show  them  the 
bones  and  skulls  of  those  that  thou  hast  ah  eady  dis- 
patched, and  make  them  believe,  ere  a  week  comes 
to  an  end,  thou  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  shows  them  as  his  wife  had  bidden  him. 
These,  said  he,  were  pilgrims,  as  you  are,  once, 
and  they  trespassed  on  my  grounds  as  on  s-turda 
vou  have  done  :   and  when  I  thousrht   the  giant  threat 

■;.     ,  .  .  ,  r,        eued  that  short- 

tit  1  tore  them  m  pieces,  and  so  with-    lyhewouidpuii 
T  T       •  n     T  ,  them  in  pieces. 

m   ten  days  I  will   do   you :   get  you 

down  to  your  den  again      And  vnth  that  he  beat 


182  THE    KEY    OF    PROMISE, 

them  all  the  way  thither.  They  lay,  therefore,  all 
day  on  Saturday  in  a  lamentable  case,  as  before. 
Now  when  night  was  come,  and  when  Mrs.  Diffi- 
dence and  her  husband,  the  giant,  were  got  to  bed, 
ihey  began  to  renew  their  discourse  of  their  pri- 
soners ;  and  withal  the  old  giant  wondered  that  he 
could  neither  by  his  blows  nor  counsel  bring  them 
to  an  end.  And  with  that  his  wife  replied,  I  fear, 
said  she,  that  they  live  in  hopes  that  some  will 
come  to  relieve  them  ;  or  that  they  have  picklocks 
about  them,  by  the  means  of  which  they  hope  to 
escape.  And  sayest  thou  so,  my  dear !  said  the 
giant ;  I  will  therefore  search  them  in  the  morning. 

Well,  on  Saturday,  about  midnight,  they  began 
to  pray,  and  continued  in  prayer  till  almost  break 
of  day. 

Now,  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Chiistian. 

as  one  half  amazed,  brake  out  into  this  passionate 

speech  ;    What  a  fool,  quoth  he,  am  I,  thus  to  lie 

in  a  stinking  dungeon,  when  I  may  as  well  walk 

,  .      at  liberty !     I  have  a  key  in  my  bo- 

A  key  m  Chris-  *'  .  . 

tian's  bosom,  call-    som,  Called  Promise,  that  will,  I  am 

ed  Promise,  opens  ^     ^  t      i      .      -i->.       , 

any  lock  in  Doubt-  persuaded.  Open  any  lock  m  Doubt- 
"^°   ^^  °'  ing  Castle.    Then  said  Hopeful,  that 

is  good  news  :  good  brother,  pluck  it  out  of  ihy 
bosom  and  try. 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom,  and 
began  to  try  at  the  dungeon-door,  whose  bolt,  as 
he  turned  the  key,  gave  back,  and  the  door  flew 
open  with  ease,  and  Christian  and  Hopeful  both 


I 


THEY    ESCAPE.  183 

came  out.  Then  he  went  to  the  outward  door  that 
leads  into  the  castle-yard,  and  with  his  key  opened 
that  door  also.  After  that  he  went  to  the  iron  gate, 
for  that  must  be  opened  too,  but  that  lock  went 
desperately  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,  and  so  were  safe,  be- 
cause they  were  out  of  his  jurisdiction. 

Now  when  they  were  gone  over  the  stile,  they 
bfegan  to  contrive  with  themselves  what  they  should 
do  at  that  stile,  to  prevent  those  that  shall  come 
after  from    falling^   into  the   hands   of  .    .„ 

.  '^  A  pillar  erected 

Giant  Despair.     So  they  consented  to   by     christian 

-        ^  ...  T  and  his  fellow. 

erect  there  a  pillar,  and  to  engrave 
upon  the  side  thereof  this  sentence  :  "  Over  this 
stile  is  the  way  to  Doubting  Gastle,  which  is  kept 
by  Giant  Despair,  who  despiseth  the  King  of  the 
celestial  country,  and  seeks  to  destroy  his  holy  pil- 
gi'ims."  Many,  therefore,  that  followed  after,  read 
what  was  wi'itten,  and  escaped  the  danger.  This 
done,  they  sang  as  follows  : 

Out  of  the  v/ay  we  went,  and  then  we  found 

Wbat  '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  prisoners  are, 

Wlioffe  ea«:tle'9  I>oubting,  and  whose  name's  Despedr. 


184  THE    DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS. 


aCI)e   (!^i0l)tl)    Stage, 

They  went  then  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable 
Tiie  Delectable   Mountains,  which  mountains  belong  to 

Mountains.        ^j^^  j^^^,^  ^^  ^^^^  j^.j^  ^^  ^j^.^j^  ^^^^  ^^^^ 

spoken  before.    So  they  went  up  to  the  mountains, 

to  behold  the  gardens  and  orchards,  the  vineyards 

and  fountains  of  water ;  where  also  they 

Tney  are  re-  ^*' 

freshed  in  the   drank  and  washed  themselves,  and  did 

mountains.  r>        i  r»    i  •  i        -vt  i 

freely  eat  oi  the  vmeyards.  Now  there 
were  on  the  tops  of  these  mountains  shepherds 
feeding  their  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  high- 
way-side. The  pilgrims,  therefore,  went  to  them, 
and  leaning  upon  their  staffs,  (as  is  common  with 
Talk  with  the   weary  pilgrims  when  they  stand  to  talk 

Shepherds.        ^^.^^^    ^^^    ^^     ^^^    ^^^^^     ^-^^^     ^^-^^^^ 

Whose  delectable  mountains  are  these,  and  whose 
be  the  sheep  that  feed  upon  them  ] 

She  P.  These  mountains  are  Emmanuel's  land, 
and  they  are  within  sight  of  his  city ;  and  the 
sheep  also  are  his,  and  he  laid  down  his  life  for 
them.  John,  10  :  11,  15. 

Chr.  Is  this  the  way  to  the  celestial  city  1 

She  P.  You  are  just  in  your  way. 

Chr.  How  far  is  it  thither"? 

She  p.  Too  far  for  any  but  those  who  shall  get 
thither  indeed. 

Chr.  Is  the  way  safe  or  dangerous  1 

She  P.  Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be  safe; 


THE    SHEPHERDS.  185 

but  transgi-essors    shall  fall  therein.    Hos.  14  :  9. 

Chr.  Is  there  in  this  place  any  relief  for  pil- 
grims that  are  weary  and  faint  in  the  way  1 

Shep.  The  Lord  of  these  mountains  hath  given 
us  a  chargp  not  to  be  forgetful  to  entertain  stran- 
gers :  therefore  the  good  of  the  place  is  before 
you.  Heb.  13  :  2. 

I  saw  also  in  my  dream,  that  when  the  Shep- 
herds perceived  that  they  were  wayfaring  men, 
they  also  put  questions  to  them,  (to  which  they 
made  answer  as  in  other  places,)  as.  Whence  came 
you  ?  and.  How  got  you  into  the  way  ?  and.  By 
what  means  have  you  so  persevered  therein  ]  for 
but  few  of  them  that  begin  to  come  hither,  do 
show  their  face  on  these  mountains. 
But  when  the  Shepherds  heard  their  ^efcomltS 
answers,  being  pleased  therewith,  they 
looked  very  lovingly  upon  them,  and  said.  Wel- 
come to  the  Delectable  Mountains. 

The  Shepherds,  1  say,  whose  names  were 
Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful, 
and  Sincere,  took  them  by  the  hand,  J.^e^gS^hgrd''/. 
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 
g'  ay  here  awhile,  to  be  acquainted  with  us,  and 
yet  more  to  solace  yourselves  with  the  good  of 
these  Delectable  Mountains.  Then  they  told  them 
that  they  were  content  to  stay.  So  they  went  to 
their  rest  that  night,  because  it  was  very  late. 


186  MOUNTAIN    OF    ERROR. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  in  the  morning 
the  Shej)herds  called  up  Christian  and  Hopeful 
to  walk  with  them  upon  the  mountains.  So  they 
went  forth  with  them,  and  walked  awhile,  having 
a  pleasant  prosj)ect  on  every  side.  Then  said  the 
Shepherds   one  to  another,    Shall  we 

They  are  -^  .  to 

shown  won-     SHOW  thoso  pilsfrims    somo  wonders  i 

ders 

So  when  they  had  concluded  to  do  it, 
they  had  them  first  to  the  top  of  a  hill  called  Er- 
ror, which  was  very  steep  on  the  far- 
The  mountain   j-jj^st  side,  and  bid  them  look  down  to 

of  LiTor. 

the  bottom.  So  Christian  and  Hopeful 
looked  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  1 
The  Shepherds  answered,  Have  you  not  heard  of 
them  that  were  made  to  err,  by  hearkening  to  Hy- 
meneus  and  Philetus,  as  concerning  the  faith  of 
the  resuiTection  of  the  body]  2  Tim.  2  :  17,  18. 
They  answered.  Yes.  Then  said  the  Shepherds, 
Those  that-you  see  lie  dashed  in  pieces  at  the  bot- 
tom of  this  mountain  are  they  ;  and.  they  have  con- 
tinued to  this  day  unburied,  as  you  see,  for  an  ex- 
ample to  others  to  take  heed  how  they  clamber 
too  high,  or  how  they  come  too  near  the  brink  of 
this  mountain. 

Then  I  saw  that  they  had  them  to  the  top  of 

another  mountain,   and  the  name  of 

Mount  Caution.  .       ^         .  i     i  •  i       ,  ,       i 

that  is  Caution,  and  bid  them  look 
afar  off;  which,   when  they  did,  they  perceived, 


MOUNT    CAUTION.  187 

as  they  thought,  several  men  walking  up  and  down 
among  the  tombs  that  were  there ;  and  they  per- 
Iceived  that  the  men  were  blind,  because  they 
i  stumbled  sometimes  upon  the  tombs,  and  because 
!  they  could  not  get  out  from  among  them.  Then 
[  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ] 
I  The  Shepherds  then  answered.  Did  you  not  see 
I  a  little  below  these  mountains  a  stile  that  led  into 
ia  meadow,  on  the  left  hand  of  this  way  1  They 
I  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  ; 
i  and  these  men  (pointing  to  them  among  the  tombs) 
'  came  once  on  pilgrimage,  as  you  do  now,  even  un- 
til 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 
I  taken  by  Giant  Despair,  and  cast  into  Doubting 
[Castle,  where,  after  they  had  awhile  been  kept  in 
the  dungeon,  he  at  last  did  put  out  their  eyes,  and 
|l§d  them  among  those  tombs,  where  he  has  left 
them  to  wander  to  this  very  day,  that  the  saying  ot 
the  wise  man  might  be  fulfilled,  **  He  that  wander- 
eth  out  of  the  way  of  understanding  shall  remain 
'in  the  congregation  of  the  dead."  Prov.  21  :  16. 
I  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked  upon  one  an- 
other, 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  waa  a 


188  A    BY-WAY    TO    HELL. 

door  on  the  side  of  a  hill ;  and  they  opened  the 
door,  and  bid  them  look  in.  They  looked  in,  there- 
fore, and  saw  that  within  it  was  very  dark  andjl 
smoky ;  they  also  thought  that  they  heard  there  ajl 
rumbling  noise,  as  of  fire,  and  a  cry  of  some  tor-jl 
mented,  and  that  they  smelt  the  scent  of  brimstone.] 
Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ]L 

A  by-way  to  hell.     rT^^        r^^  ■,  -i  n      ^  mi   •      •  T 

Ihe  bhepherds  told  them,  Ihis  is  a  by- 
way to  hell,  a  way  that  hypociites  go  in  at;  name-! 
ly,  such  as  sell  their  birth-right,  with  Esau;  such 
as  sell  their  Master,  with  Judas  ;  such  as  blaspheme  ji 
the  Gospel,  with  Alexander ;  and  that  lie  and  dis- '; 
semble,  with  Ananias  and  Sapphira  his  wife. 

Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  Shepherds,  I  perceive 
that  these  had  on  them,  even  every  one,  a  show  of 
pilgrimage,  as  we  have  now  ;  had  they  not  ] 

She  P.  Yes,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

Hope.  How  far  might  they  go  on  in  pilgrimage 
in  their  day,  since  they,  notwithstanding,  were  mis- 
erably cast  away  1 

She  P.  Some  farther,  and  some  not  so  far  as 
these  mountains. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims  one  to  the  other.  We  had 
need  cry  to  the  Strong  for  strength. 

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

By  this  time  the  pilgrims  had  a  desire  to  go  for- 
ward, and  the  Shepherds  a  desire  they  should ;  so 
they  walked  together  toward  the  end  of  the  moun 
tains.    Then  said  the  Shepherds  one  to  another 


THE    PILGRIMS    DEPART.  189 

Let  us  here  show  the  pilgrims  the  gates  of  the  Ce- 
lestial City,  if  they  have  skill  to  look  xhe  shepherds' 
through  our  perspective  glass.  The  perspective-giass. 
pilgrims  lovingly  accepted  the  motion  :  so  they  had 
them  to  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  called  Clear,  and 
gave  them  the  glass  to  look. 

Then  they  tried  to  look ;  but  the  remembrance 
of  that  last  thing  that  the  Shepherds  ^he  ft-uits  of 
had  shown  them  made  their  hands  shake,  servile  fear. 
by  means  of  which  impediment  they  could  not  look 
steadily  through  the  glass  ;  yet  they  thought  they 
saw  something  like  the  gate,  and  also  some  of  the 
glory  of  the  place.  Then  they  went  away  and 
sang: 

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

When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of  the 
Shepherds  gave  them  a  note  of  the  way.  a  two-fold  cau- 
Another  of  them  bid  them  beware  of  ^°^- 
the  Flatterer.  The  third  bid  them  take  heed  that 
they  slept  not  upon  the  Enchanted  Ground.  And 
the  fourth  bid  them  God  speed.  So  I  awoke  from 
mv  dream. 


4r 


190  IGNORANCE. 


And  I  slept,  and  dreamed  again,  and  saw  the 

same  two  pilginms  going  down  the  mountains  along 

the  highway  towards  the  city.    Now  a  little  below 

these  mountains,  on  the  left  hand,  lieth 

Conceit""om  Cf  the  country  of  Conceit;    from  which 

^'orauce!''"'^  ^°'   country  there  comes  into  the  way  in 

which    the    pilgrims  walked,    a   little 

crooked  lane.    Here,  therefore,  they  met  with  a 

very  brisk  lad  that  came  out  of  that  country,  and 

nd  ^^^  name  was  Ignorance.    So  Christian 

Ignorance  have    askod  him  from  what  parts  he  came, 

some  talk.  i       i  •  i         i 

and  whither  he  was  gomg. 

Ignor.  Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  country  that  lieth 
off  there,  a  little  on  the  left  hand,  and  I  am  going 
to  the  Celestial  City. 

Chr.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the 
gate,  for  you  may  find  some  difficulty  there  ] 

Ignor.  As  other  good  people  do,  said  he. 

Chr.  But  what  have  you  to  show  at  that  gate, 
that  the  gate  should  be  opened  to  you  1 

Ignor.  I  know  my  Lord's  will,  and  have  been 
The  grounds  ^  S^°^  ^'^'^''5  I  pay  every  man  his 
of  Ignorance's  owu  ;  I  pray,  fast,  pay  tithes,  and  give 
alms,  and  have  left  my  country  for  whi- 
ther I  am  going. 

Chr.  But  thou  earnest  not  in  at  the  wicket- 
gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  this  way ;  thou  earnest 


IGNORANCE.  191 

in  hither  through  that  same  crooked  lane,  and 
therefore  I  fear,  however  thou  mayst  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. 

Ignor.  Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  me, 
[  know  you  not :  be  content  to  follow  „     „  , 

^  •'^  He  telletli 

the  religion  of  your  country,  and  I  every  one  he  13 
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  it  is  a  groat  way  off 
of  our  country.  I  cannot  think  that  any  man  in  all 
our  parts  doth  so  much  as  know  the  way  to  it  j 
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  the  way. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise  in 
his  own  conceit,  he  said  to  Hopeful  whisperingly. 
"  There  is  more  hope  of  a  fool  than  of  him."  Prov. 
26  :  12.  And  said,  moreover,  •'  When  he  that  is 
a  fool  walketh  by  the  way,  his'wisdom  faileth  him, 
and  he  saith  to  every  one,  that  he  is  a 
fool."  Eccles.  10  :  3.    What  shall  we   ?o^  f°  ,<=«^ 

It  to  a  fool. 

talk  farther  with  him,  or  outgo  him  at 
present,  and  so  leave  him  to  think  of  what  he  hath 
heard  already,  and  then  stop  again  for  him  after- 
wards, and  see  if  by  degrees  we  can  do  any  good 
Co  him  1    Then  said  Hopeful, 


Id2  turnaway's  destruction 

Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 

On  what  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 

Good  counsel  to  embrace,  lest  he  remain 

iStiJl  ignorant  of  what's  the  chiefest  gain. 

God  saith,  those  that  no  understanding  have, 

(Although  he  made  them,)  them  he  will  not  save. 

Hope.  He  further  added,  "  It  is  not  good,  i 
think,  to  say  so  to  him  all  at  once ;  let  us  pass  him 
by,  if  you  will,  and  talk  to  him  anon,  even  as  he  is 
able  to  bear  it. 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he  came 
after.  Now  when  they  had  passed  him  a  little  way, 
they  entered  into  a  very  dark  lane,  where  they 
met  a  man  whom  seven  devils  had  bound  with 
seven  strong  cords,  and  were  carrying  him  back 
to  the  door  that  they  saw  on  the  side  of  the  hill. 
Matt.  12  :  45 ;  Prov.  5  :  22.  Now  good  Christian 
began  to  tremble,  and  so  did  Hopeful,  his  compa- 
nion ;  yet,  as  the  devils  led  away  the  man.  Chris- 
tian looked  to  see  if  he  knew  him ;  and  he  thought 
it  might  be  one  Turn-away,  that  dwelt  in  the  town 
of  Apostacy.  But  he  did  not  perfectly 
tion  of  one  see  his  face,  for  he  did  hang  his  head  . 
um-away.  j.j^^  ^  thief  that  is  found ;  but  being 
gone  past.  Hopeful  looked  after  him,  and  espied 
on  his  back  a  paper,  with  this  inscription,  "  Wan- 
ton professor,  and  damnable  apostate." 

Then  said  Christian   to  «his  fellow. 
Christian  tell-   -^^^^  j  ^^^j  ^^  remembrance  that  whicli 


eth  his  compa 
uion  { 
Little 


"'-  %'S  °^    was  told  me  of  a  thing  that  happened 
to  a  good  man  hereabout.    The  name; 


LITTLE-FAITH   ROBBED.  193 

of  the  man  was  Little-Faith ;  but  a  good  man, 
and  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sincere.  The  thing 
was  this.  At  the  entering  in  at  this  passage, 
there  comes  down   from   Broadway-       „     ^ 

•'  Broadway- 

gate  a  lane,  called  Dead-man's-lane ;     gate.  Dead- 

so  called  because  of  the  murders  that 
are  commonly  done  there ;  and  this  Little-Faith 
going  on  pilgrimage,  as  we  do  now,  chanced  to  sit 
down  there  and  sleep.  Now  there  hapj^ened  at 
that  time  to  come  down  the  lane  from  Broadway- 
gate,  three  sturdy  rogues,  and  their  names  were 
Faint-Heart,  Mistrust,  and  Guilt,  three  brothers ; 
and  they  espying  Little-Faith  where  he  was,  came 
galloping  up  with  speed.  Now  the  good  man  was 
ijust  awaked  from  his  sleep,  and  was  getting  up  to 
go  on  his  journey.  So  they  came  up  all  to  him, 
and  with  threatening  language  bid  him  stand.  At 
this  Little-Faith  looked  as  white  as  a  sheet,  and 
had  neither  power  to  fight  nor  fly. 
Then  said  Faint-Heart,    Deliver  thy   robbed"!yS 

(urse ;  but  he  making  no  haste  to  do  ^^JgJJJ^^'^'' 
it,  (for  he  was  loth  to  lose  his  mo- 
ney,) Mistrust  ran  up  to  him,  and  thrusting  his 
hand  into  his  pocket  pulled  out  thence 
a  bag  of  silver.  Then  he  cried  out,  way'^hS^sfh-eri 
Thieves,  thieves!  With  that  Guilt,  S^tS°°'^^ 
with  a  great  club  that  was  in  his  hand, 

truck  Little-Faith  on  the  head,  and  with  that  blow 
felled  him  flat  to  the  ground,  where  he  lay  bleed- 
ing as  one  that  would  bleed  to  death.    All  this 

PiL  ProffreH.  1  *^ 


194  little-faith's  troubles. 

while  the  thieves  stood  by.  But  at  last  they  hear 
ing  that  some  were  upon  the  road,  and  fearing 
lest  it  should  be  one  Great-Grace  that  dwells  in 
the  town  of  Good-Confidence,  they  betook  them- 
selves 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 
scramble  on  his  way.     This  was  the  story. 

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

Chr.  No;  the  place    where   his  jewels    were 
they  never  ransacked ;  so  those  he  kept 
lost  not  his  best   Still.    But,  as  I   was    told,    the   good 
t  uigs-  j^g^jj  ^g^g  much  afflicted   for  his  loss ; 

for  the  thieves  got  most  of  his  spending-money. 
That  which  they  got  not  (as  I  said)  were  jewels ; 
also  he  had  a  little  odd  money  left,  but  scarce 
enough  to  bring  him  to  his  journey's  end.  Nay, 
(if  I  was  not  misinformed,)  he  was  forced  to  beg 

Little  Faith  ^^  ^®  Went,  to  keep  himself  alive,  for 
forced  to  beg  his  iowels  he  might  not  sell :  but  beg 

tohisjoumcy's  '^  i         i  i  i    , 

end.  and  do  what  he  could,  he  went  (as  we 

say)  with  many  a  hungry  belly  the  most  part  ot 
the  rest  of  the  way.   1  Pet.  4  :  18. 

Hope.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not  from 
him  his  certificate,  by  which  he  was  to  receive  his 
admittance  at  the  Celestial  Gate  ! 

Chr.    It  is  a   wonder;    but   they 

He  kept  not  his  ,  ,  ,      ^  .         -,   . 

beet  things   by   got  not  that,  though  they  missed  it  not 

JiiB  own  cunning,     ^f  ,  -,  .  /•  i  •         r- 

through  any  good  cunning  of  his  ;  for 


LITTLE-FAITH.  195 

he  being  dismayed  by  their  coming  upon  him,  had 
neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any  thing :  so  it 
was  more  by  good  providence  than  by  his  endea- 
vor that  they  missed  of  that  good  thing.  2  Tim 
1  :  12-14  ;  2  Pet.  2  :  9. 

Hope.  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  his  money.  In- 
deed he  forgot  it  a  great  part  of  the  rest  of  his 
journey  ;  and  besides,  when  at  any  time  it  came 
into  his  mind,  and  he  began  to  be  comforted  there- 
with, then  would  fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss  come 
again  upon  him,  and  these  thoughts  would  swallow 
up  all. 

Hope.  Alas,  poor  man,  this  could  He  is  pitied  by 
not  but  be  a  great  grief  to  him.  ^"^^* 

^  Chr.  Grief?  Ay,  a  grief  indeed!  Would  it 
not  have  been  so  to  any  of  us,  had  we  been  used 
as  he,  to  be  robbed  and  wounded  too,  and  that  in 
a  strange  place,  as  he  was  1  It  is  a  wonder  he  did 
not  die  with  grief,  poor  heart.  I  was  told  that  he 
scattered  almost  all  the  rest  of  the  way  with  no- 
thing bat  doleful  and  bitter  complaints  ;  telling  also 
to  all  that  overtook  him,  or  that  he  overtook  in  the 
way  as  he  went,  where  he  was  robbed,  and  how; 
who  they  were  that  did  it,  and  what  he  had  lost  • 


196  DISCOURSE    ABOUT 

how  he  was  wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  escaped 
with  life. 

Hope.  But  it  is  a  wonder  that  his  necessity  did 
not  put  him  upon  selling  or  pawming  some  of  his 
jewels,  that  he  might  have  where^vith  to  relievo 
liimself  in  his  journey. 

Chr.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose  head  is 
Christian  re-  the  shell  to  this  very  day.  For  what 
fowfo?ana/S:  s^^^^^  ^^  pa^u  them  ]  or  to  whom 
eedJy  speaking,  should  he  Sell  them  ]  In  all  that  coun- 
try where  he  was  robbed,  his  jewels  were  not  ac- 
counted of;  nor  did  he  want  that  rehef  which 
could  from  thence  be  administered  to  him.  Be- 
sides, had  his  jewels  been  missing  at  the  gate  of 
the  Celestial  City,  he  had  (and  that  he  knew  well 
enough)  been  excluded  fi'om  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  birthright,  and  that  for  a  mess  of  pottage, 
Heb.  12  :  16  ;  and  that  birthright  was  his  greatest 
jewel ;  and  if  he,  why  might  not  Little-Faith  do 
so  too  ] 

Chr.  Esau  did  sell  his  birthright  indeed,  and 
so  do  many  besides,  and  by  so  doinu- 

Discourse  about  •'  ^  i  i  •  "r 

Esau  and  Little-  exclude  themselves  from  the  chief 
blessing,  as  also  that  caidfF  did  ;  but 
you  must  put  a  difference  betwixt  Esau  and  Little- 
Faith  :  and  also  betwixt  their  estates.  Esau's  birth- 
lightwas  typical;  but  Little-Faith's  jewels  were 


LITTLE-FAITH.  197 

not  SO.  E -au's  belly  was  his  god  ;  but  Esau  was  ruled 
Little-Faith's  belly  was  not  so.  Esau's  ^  ^^^' 
want  lay  in  his  fleshly  appetite  ;  Little-Faith's  did 
not  so.  Besides,  Esau  could  see  no  further  than  to 
the  fulfilling  of  his  lusts  ;  For  I  am  at  the  point  to 
die,  said  he  ;  and  what  good  will  this  birthright  do 
me  ]  Gen,  25  :  32.  But  Little-Faith,  though  it  was 
his  lot  to  have  but  a  little  faith,  was  by  his  little 
faith  kept  from  such  extravagances,  and  made  to 
see  and  prize  his  jewels  more  than  to  sell  them,  as 
Esau  did  his  birthright.  You  read  not  any  where 
that  Esau  had  faith,  no,  not  so  much  as  a  little  ; 
therefore  no  marvel,  where  the  flesh  Y.saM  never  had 
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  occasion  cannot  be  turned  away.  Jer.  2  :  24. 
When  their  minds  are  set  upon  their  lusts  they 
will  have  them,  whatever  they  cost :  Littie-Faith 
but  Little-Faith  was  of  another  tem-  ^^^^  ""^^l^^ 
per ;  his  mind  was  on  things  divine ;  po^^e. 
his  livelihood  was  uj)on  things  that  were  spiritual, 
and  from  above  ;  therefore  to  what  end  should  he 
that  is  of  such  a  temper  sell  his  jewels  (had  there 
been  any  that  would  have  bought  them)  to  fiU  his 
mind  with  empty  things  ?  Will  a  man  give  a  penny 
to  fill  his  belly  with  hay  ]  or  can  you  a  comparison 
persuade  the  turtle-dove  to  live  upon  ^^S^^dove^d 
caiTion,  like  the  ciow?    Though  faith-   t^^rew. 


198  DISCOURSE    ABOUT 

less  ones  can,  for  caraal  lusts,  pawn,  or  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.  I  acknowledge  it;  but  yet  your  severe 
reflection  had  almost  made  me  angry. 

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

Hope.  But,  Christian,  these  three  fellows,  I  am 
Hopeful  swag-  porsuadod  in  my  heart,  are  but  a  com- 
gers.  pany  of  cowards  ;  would  they  have  run 

else,  think  you,  as  they  did  at  the  noise  of  one  that 
was  coming  on  the  road  ]  Why  did  not  Little- 
Faith  pluck  up  a  greater  heart  1  He  might,  me- 
thinks,  have  stood  one  brush  with  them,  and  have 
yielded  when  there  had  been  no  remedy. 

Chr.  That  they  are  cowards,  many  have  said, 
No  great  heart  ^^^  few  have  fOund  it  SO  in  the  time  ot 
there  is^bu^Mt^-  ^^^^1.  As  for  a  great  heart,  Little-Faith 
tie  faith  j^g^^j  none  ;  and  I  perceive  by  thee,  my 

brother,  hadst  thou  been  the  man  concerned,  thou 
art  but  for  a  brush,  and  then  to  yield.  And,  verily, 
We  have  more  si^ce  this  is  the  height  of  thy  stomach 
courage  when   j^^^  ^j^gy  ^j,q  g^j-  ^  distance  from  us, 

we  are  out,  than  J  ■ 

rfi^henwearein.   should  they  appear  to  thee,  as  they  did 


LITTLE-FAITH.       ^  199 

to  him,  they  might  put  thee  to  second  thoughts. 
But  consider  again,  that  they  are  but  journey- 
men thieves ;  they  serve  under  the  king  of  the  bot- 
tomless pit,  who,  if  need  be,  will  come  to  their  aid 
himself,  and  his  voice  is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion. 
1  Pet.  5  :  8.  I  myself  have  been  en-  christian  teiis 
sracred  as  this  Little-Faith  was,  and  I    ^^  o^^'".  ^^l'«- 

^   °        ,  .  .  nence   in  this 

found  it  a  terrible  thing.  These  three  ^aso. 
villains  set  upon  me,  and  I  beginning  like  a  chris- 
tian 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  clothed  with  armor  of  proof.  Ay,  and 
yet,  though  I  was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard 
work  to  quit  myself  like  a  man ;  no  man  can  tell 
what  in  that  combat  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  ^he  Kind's 
appeared  ;  and  no  marvel,  for  he  is  the  champion. 
King's  champion.  But  I  trow  you  will  put  some 
difference  between  Little-Faith  and  the  King's 
diampion.  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  Goliath  as  David  did  1  or  that  there 
should  be  the  strength  of  an  ox  in  a  wren  1  Same 
ai'e  strong,  some  are  weak ;  some  have  great  faith 


200  '    DISCOURSE    ABOUT 

some  have  little :  this  man  was  one  of  the  weak, 
and  therefore  he  went  to  the  wall. 

Hope.  I  would  it  had  been  Great-Grace  foi 
their  sakes. 

Cfir.  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,  Mistrust,  or  the  other,  it 
shall  go  hard  but  they  will  throw  up  his  heels.  And 
when  a  man  is  down,  you  know,  what  can  he  do  ] 

Whoso  looks  well  upon  Great-Grace's  face,  will 
see  those  scars  and  cuts  there  that  shall  easily  give 
demonstration  of  what  I  say.  Yea,  once  I  heard 
that  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,  Ps.  88 ;  and 
Hezekiah  too,  though  champions  in  their  days, 
were  forced  to  bestir  them  when  by  these  assault 
ed  ;  and  yet,  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 ; 


LITTLE-FAITH.  201 

and  of  him  it  is  said,  "  The  sword  of  Leviathan's 
him  that  layeth  at  him  cannot  hold;  smrdiaess. 
the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  habergeon.  He  es- 
teemeth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as  rotten  wood. 
The  arrow  cannot  make  him  fly  ;  sling-stones  are 
turned  with  him  into  stubble.  Darts  are  counted 
as  stubble  ;  he  laugheth  at  the  shaking  of  a  spear." 
Job,  41  :  26-29.  What  can  a  man  do  in  this  case  ] 
It  is  true,  if  a  man  could  at  every  turn  have  Job's 
horse,  and  had  skill  and  courage  to  ride  him,  he 
raight  do  notable  things.  "  For  his  neck  is  clothed 
with  thunder.     He  will  not  be  afraid   ^  ,,    . 

The    excellent 

as   a    grasshopper:    the    srlory   of  his   mettle  that  is  in 

.°  .  \^\  ^^  T     .         ■,         Job's  hoise. 

nostrils  IS  terrible.  He  paweth  m  the 
valley,  and  rejoiceth  in  his  strength  ;  he  goeth  on 
to  meet  the  armed  men.  He  mocketh  at  fear,  and 
is  not  affrighted,  neither  turneth  he  back  from  the 
sword.  The  quiver  rattleth  against  him,  the  glit- 
tering 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 
battle  afar  off*,  the  thunder  of  the  captains,  and  the 
shoutinors."  Job,  39  :  19-25. 

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 
have  been  foiled,  nor  be  tickled  at  the  thoughts  of 
our  own  manhood ;  for  such  commonly  come  by 
the  worst  when  tried.     Witness  Peter,  of  whom  1 


202  THE    FLATTERER 

raade  mention  before  :  he  would  swagger,  ay,  he 
would ;  he  would,  as  his  vain  mind  prompted  him 
to  say,  do  better,  and  stand  moi'e  for  his  Master 
than  all  men :  but,  who  so  foiled  and  run  down  by 
those  villains  as  he  1 

When,  therefore,  we  hear  that  such  robberies 
are  done  on  the  King's  highway,  two  things  be- 
come us  to  do. 

1.  To  go  out  harnessed,  and  to  be  sure  to  take 
a  shield  with  us  ;  for  it  was  for  want  of  that,  that 
he  who  laid  so  lustily  at  Leviathan  could  not  make 
him,  yield  ;  for,  indeed,  if  that  be  wanting,  he  fears 
us  not  at  all.  Therefore,  he  that  had  skill  hath  said, 
"Above  all,  take  the  shield  of  faith,  wherewith  ye 
shall  be  able  to  quench  all  the  fiery  darts  of  the 
wicked."    Eph.  6  :  16. 

2.  It  is  good,  also,  that  we  desire  of  the  King  a 
It  is  good  to    convoy,  yea,  that  he  will  go  with  us 

have  a  convoy,  himself.  This  made  David  rejoice 
when  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  ;  and 
Moses  was  rather  for  dying  where  he  stood,  than 
to  go  one  step  without  his  God.  Exod.  33  :  15. 
0  my  brother,  if  he  will  but  go  along  with  us,  what 
need  we  be  afraid  of  ten  thousands  that  shall  set 
themselves  against  us  ?  Ps.  3  :  5-8 ;  27  :  1-3.  But 
without  him,  the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the  slain. 
Isa.  10  •,  4. 

I,  for  ray  pait,  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 


SEDUCES    THE    PILGRIMS.  203 

any  manhood.  Glad  shall  I  be  if  I  meet  with  no 
more  such  brunts ;  though  I  fear  we  are  not  got 
beyond  all  danger.  However,  since  the  lion  and 
bear  have  not  as  yet  devoured  me,  I  hope  God  will 
also  deliver  us  from  the  next  uncircumcised  Philis- 
tine.    Then  sansf  Christian : 

Poor  Little-Faith  !  hast  been  among  the  thieves  ? 
Wast  robbed  ?     Remember  this,  whoso  believes, 
And  get  more  faith  ;  then  shall  you  vii";tors  be 
Over  tea  thousand,  else  scarce  over  three. 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed.   They 
went  then  till  they  came  at  a  place    , 

*'  .         ^  .  A  way  and  a  way. 

v/here  they  saw  a  way  put  itself  into 

their  way,  and  seemed  withal  to  lie  as  straight  as 

the  way  which    they    should  go ;  and  here  they 

i  knew    not   which    of  the    two  to    take,  for   both 

seemed  straight  before  them  ;   therefore  here  they 

stood  still  to  consider.     And  as  they  were  thinking 

about  the  way,  behold  a  man,  black  of  flesh,  but 

covered  with  a  very  light  robe,  came  to  them,  and 

i  asked  them  why  they  stood  there.    They  answered, 

i  they  were  going  to  the  Celestial  City,  but  knew 

'  not  which  of  these  ways  to  take.     "  Follow  me," 

i  said  the  man,  "  it  is  thither  that  I  am  going."     So 

they  followed  him  in  the  way  that  but  now  came  into 

the  road,  which  by  degrees  turned,  and   ^^^^^^^  ^^^  ^.^ 

turned  them  so  far  from  the  city  that   ^^Ho^  deluded. 

they  desired  to  go  to,  that  in  a  little  time  their  faces 

were  turned   away  from  it;   yet  they   They  are  taken 

followed  him.     But  by  and  by,  before        ^  ^  "*''• 


204  THE    NET. — A    SHINING    ONE. 

they  were  aware,  he  led  them  both  within  the  com- 
pass of  a  net,  in  which  they  were  both  so  entangled 
that  they  knew  not  what  to  do ;  and  with  that  the 
white  robe  fell  off  the  black  man's  back.  Then 
they  saw  where  they  were.  Wherefore  there  they 
lay  crying  some  time,  for  they  could  not  get  them- 
selves out. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Now 
They  bewail  ^o  I  ^^^  myself  in  an  error.  Did  not 
their  condition.  j|jg  Shepherds  bid  us  beware  of  the 
Flatterer  1  As  is  the  saying  of  the  wise  man,  so 
we  have  found  it  this  day  :  "  A  man  that  flatter- 
eth  his  neighbor,  spreadeth  a  net  for  his  feet." 
Prov.  29 :  5. 

Hope.  They  also  grave  us  a  note  of  directions 
about  the  way,  for  our  more  sure  finding  thereof; 
but  therein  we  have  also  forgotten  to  read,  and 
have  not  kept  ourselves  from  the  paths  of  the  de- 
stroyer. Here  Da^'id  was  wiser  than  we,  for,  saith 
he,  "  Concerning  the  works  of  men,  by  the  word 
of  thy  lips  I  have  kept  me  from  the  paths  of  the 
destroyer."  Psalm  17  :  4.  Thus  they  lay  bewail- 
A  Shining  One  i^g  themselves  in  the  net.  At  last 
S^l  wh^^S  they  espied  a  Shining  One  coming  to 
his  hand.  ward  them  with  a  whip  of  small  cords 

in  his  hand.  When  he  was  come  to  the  place  where 
tbey  were,  he  asked  them  whence  they  came,  and 
what  they  did  there.  They  told  him  that  they 
were  poor  pilgrims  going  to  Zion,  but  were  led 
out  of  their  way  by  a  black  man  clothed  in  white. 


CHASTISES  THEM    SORELY.  205 

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.  Dan.  11  :  32 ;  2  Cor. 
11  :  13,  14.  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  let  them  back  to  the 
way  which  they  had  left  to  follow  the  Flatterer. 
Then  he  asked  them,  saying,  Where  They  are  ex- 
did  you  lie  the  last  night  1  They  said,  ?^kted^of 
With  the  Shepherds  upon  the  Delec-  fo^g^tf^ness 
table  Mountains.  He  asked  them  then  if  they  had 
not  of  the  Shepherds  a  note  of  direction  for  the 
way.  They  answ^ered,  Yes.  But  did  you  not,  said 
he,  when  you  were  at  a  stand,  pluck  out  and  read 
your  note  1  They  answered,  No.  He  asked  them, 
Why  ]  They  said  they  forgot.  He  asked,  more- 
over, if  the  Shepherds  did  not  bid  them  beware  of 
the  Flatterer.  They  answered,  Yes ;  Deceivers  fine 
but  we  did  not  imagine,  said  they,  that  spoken. 
this  fine-spoken  man  had  been  he.  Rom.  16  :  17, 18. 
Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  he  commanded 
them  to  lie  do^^^l:  which  when  they 

,      They  are  whip- 
did,  he  chastised  them  sore,  to  teach   pedandsemoo 

ihem    the     good    way    wherein    they 

Bhould  walk,   Deut.  25  :  2 ;  2  Chron.  6  :  27;  and 

as  he  chastised  them,  he  said,  "  As  many  as  I  love 

I  rebuke  and  chasten  ;  be  zealous,  therefore,  and 

repent."   Rev.  3  :  19.     This  done,   he  bids   them 

go  on  their  way,  and  take  good  heed  to  the  other 


206         ATHEIST    MEETS    THE    PILGRIMS. 

directions  of  the  Shepherds.  So  they  thanked 
him  for  all  his  kindness,  and  went  softly  along  the 
riglit  way,  singing  : 

Come  hither,  you  that  walk  along  the  way, 
See  how  the  pilgrims  fare  that  go  astray  : 
They  catched  are  in  an  entangled  net, 
'Cause  they  good  counsel  lightly  did  forget ; 
'Tis  true  they  rescued  were  ;  but  yet,  you  see. 
They're  scourged  to  boot :  let  this  your  caution  be. 

Now,  after  a  while,  they  perceived  afar  off  one 
coming  softly,  and  alone,  all  along  the  high-way  to 
meet  them.  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow, 
Yonder  is  a  man  with  his  back  toward  Zion,  and 
he  is  coming  to  meet  us. 

Hope.  I  see  him;  let  us  take  heed  to  ourselves 
The  Atheist  ^^w  lest  he  should  provo  a  flatterer 
meets  thena.  ^jg^^  g^  j^^  drew  nearer  and  nearer, 
and  at  last  came  up  to  them.  His  name  was  Athe- 
ist, and  he  asked  them  whither  they  were  going. 

Chr.  We  are  going  to  Mount  Zion. 
He  laughs  at         Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great 
^^'       laughter. 

Chr.  What's  the  meaning  of  your  laughter  *? 

Atheist.  I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  per- 
sons you  are,  to  take  upon  you  so  tedious  a  jour- 
ney, and  yet  are  like  to  have  nothing  but  your 
travel  for  your  pains. 

They  reason  Chr.  Why,  man,  do  you  think  we 

together.        ^YiaW  not  be  receded  1 


THEY    OPPOSE    ATHEIST.  207 

Atheist.  Received !  There  is  not  such  a  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  my  own 
country  I  heard  as  you  now  affirm,  and  from  thai 
hearing  went  out  to  see,  and  have  been  seeking 
this  city  these  twenty  years,  but  find  no  more  of 
it  than  I  did  the  first  day  I  set  out.  Eccles.  10  :  15 ; 
Jer.  17  :  15. 

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,  had  there  been  such  a  place  to 
be  found,  for  I  have  gone  to  seek  it  The  Atheist 
farther  than  you,)  I  am  going  back  coment"£thS 
again,  and  will  seek  to  refresh  myself  ^'°^^'^- 
I  with  the  things  that  I  then  cast  away  for  hopes  of 
that  which  I  now  see  is  not. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  his  com 
I  panion.  Is  it  true  which  this  man  hath  christian  prov 

,    gaid  1  6^^  ^  brother 

Hope.  Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  flatterers. 
Remember  what  it  cost  us  once  al-  Hopeful's  gra 
ready  for  our  hearkening  to  such  kind  "°"^  answer 
of  fellows.  What!  no  Mount  Zion  ?  Did  wo 
not  see  from  the  Delectable  Mountains  the  gate 
of  the  city  1  Also,  are  we  not  now  to  walk 
by  faith  1  2  Cor.  5:7.  Let  us  go  on,  lest  the 
man   with    the   whip    overtake    us    again.     You 


208  THE    ENCHANTED    CROUND. 

Remembrance   should  have  taught  me  that  lesson, 

of   former    chas-         ,  .    ,     x        -n  i  •         i 

tisement  is  a  help  which  i  Will  sound  you  in  the  ears 
temptatioZ'^^^^^  withal :  "  Cease,  my  son,  to  hear  the 
instruction  that  causeth  to  err  from 
the  words  of  knowledge."  Prov.  19  :  27.  I  say, 
my  brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  believe 
to  the  saving  of  the  soul. 

CllR.  My  brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question 
to  thee,  for  that  I  doubted. of  the  truth  of  our  be- 
A  fruit  of  an  Hof  mysolf,  but  to  prove  thee,  and  to 
honest  heart.  ^^^^^i  from  thee  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  thee  and 
me  go  on,  knowing  that  we  have  belief  of  the 
truth,  and  no  lie  is  of  the  truth.  1  John,  2  ;  21. 

Hope.  Now  do  I  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of 
God.  So  they  turned  away  from  the  man,  and  he, 
laughing  at  them,  went  his  way. 

I  then  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  un- 
til they  came  into  a  certain  country 

They  come  to  •' .  •' 

the  enchanted   whoso  air  naturally  tended  to  make  one 

drowsy,  if  he  came  a  stranger  into  it. 

And  here  Hopeful  began  to  be  very  dull,  and  heavy 

HopeM  begms   to  sleep  ;  wherefore  he  said  unto  Chris- 

to^e  drowsy.      ^^^^  j  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^.^^  ^^  j^^^_ 

sy  that  I  can  scarcely  hold  open  mine  eyes  ;  let  us 
lie  down  here  and  take  one  nap. 
Christian  keeps       'CuR.  By  no  means,  said  the  other, 
bim  awake,      jgg^  sleeping  WO  never  awake  more. 
Hope.  Why,  my  brother  !  sleep  is  sweet  to  the 


THE  ENCHANTED  GROUND.      209 

laboring  man ;  we  maybe  refi'eshed  if  we  take  a  nap, 
Chr.  Do  you  not  remember  that  one  of  the  Shep- 
herds bid  us  beware  of  the  Enchanted  Ground  1  He 
meant  by  that,  that  we  should  beware  of  sleeping ; 
wherefore  "  let  us  not  sleep  as  do  others,  but  let  us 
i\'atch  and  be  sober."     1  Thes.  5  :  6. 

Hope.  I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault;  and 
had  I  been  here  alone,  I  had  by  sleep- 

,        ,  -  \        ,         ^^  \       He  is  thankfuL 

mo^  run  the  danger  oi  death.     1  see  it 
is  true  that  the  wise  man  saith,  **  Two  are  better 
than  one."    Eccles.  4  :  9.    Hitherto  hath  thy  com- 
pany been  my  mercy  ;  and  thou  shalt  have  a  good 
reward  for  thy  labor. 

Chr.  Now,  then,  said  Christian,      ^    ... 

'  '  _  '        Good  discourse 

to  prevent  drowsiness  in  this  place,  let  prevemeth  drow- 

61I16SS 

us  fall  into  good  discourse. 

Hope.   With  all  my  heait,  said  the  other. 

Chr.  Where  shall  we  begin  1 

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

Chr.  I  will  sing  you  first  this  song  : 

When  saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither, 

And  hear  how  these  two  pilgrims  talk  together ; 

Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them  in  any  wise 

Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsy,  slumb'ring  eyes. 

Saints'  fellowship,  if  it  be  managed  well. 

Keeps  them  awake,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell. 

Chr.    Then  Christian  began,  and   They  begin  at  the 

o       '  beginning  of  theii 

said,  I  will  ask  you  a  question.    How   conversion. 
:ame  you  to  think  at  first  of  doing  what  you  do  now  ] 

Pi!.  Progress.  X4 


210  hopeful's  account 

Hope.  Do  you  mean,  how  I  came  at  first  to 
look  after  the  good  of  my  soul  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

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

Chr.  What  things  were  they  1 

Hope.  All  the  treasures  and  riches  of  the 
Hopeful's  life  be-  world.  Also  I  delighted  much  in  ri- 
fore  conversion,  oting,  revelling,  drinking,  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  di- 
vine, which,  indeed,  I  heard  of  you,  as  also  of  be 
loved  Faithful  that  was  put  to  death  for  his  faith 
and  good  living  in  Vanity  Fair,  that  the  end  of 
these  things  is  death,  Rom.  6  :  21-23  ;  and  that  for 
these  things'  sake  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  upoij 
the  children  of  disobedience.  Eph.  5  :  6. 

Chr.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the 
power  of  this  conviction  ? 

Hope.  No,  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  kno\7 
Hopeful    at   the  ovil  of  sin,  nor  the  damnation  that 
eyesaSStthe   ^Hows  upon  the  commissiou  of  it;  but 
^^s^it.  endeavored,  when  my  mind  at  first  be- 

gan to  be  shaken  with  the  word,  to  shut  mine  eyes 
against  the  light  thereof. 

Chr.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  carrying 


OF    HIS    CONVERSION.  211 

of  it  thus  to  the  first  workings  of  God's  blessed 
Spirit  upon  you  1 

Hope.  The  causes  were,  1.  I  was  ignorant  that 
this  was  the  work  of  God  upon  me.  I 

,  ,        .         ,  ,         .  -  Reasons  of  bis 

never  thought  that  by  awakenings  lor  resisting  the 
sin,  God  at  first  begins  the  conversion  ^^ 
of  a  sinner.  2.  Sin  was  yet  very  sweet  to  my  flesh, 
and  I  was  loth  to  leave  it.  3.  I  could  not  tell  how 
to  part  with  mine  old  companions,  their  presence 
and  actions  were  so  desirable  unto  me.  4.  The 
hours  in  which  convictions  were  upon  me,  were 
such  troublesome  and  such  heart-afii'ighting  hours, 
that  I  could  not  bear,  no,  not  so  much  as  the  re- 
membrance 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  1 

Hope.  Many  things  ;  as,  whenhehadiost 

1.  If  I  did  but  meet  a  good  man  in  ?,trbroughui 
the  streets  ;  or,  ^s^"^ 

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

3.  If  my  head  did  begin  to  ache  ;  or, 

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

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


212  hopeful's  account 

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  judgement. 

Chr.  And  could  you  at  any  time,  with  ease,  get 
off  the  guilt  of  sin,  when  by  any  of  these  ways  it 
came  upon  you  1 

Hope.  No,  not  I ;  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  turaed 
against  it,)  it  would  be  double  torment  to  me. 

Chr.  And  how  did  you  do  then  ? 

Hope.  I  thought  I  must  endeavor 
no^T^nger^sTate   to  mend  my  life  ;   or  else  thought  I,  1 
f  fuY^  turset   ^^  «^^«  t«  be  damned, 
then  he   endea-        Chr.  And    did  you   endeavor  to 

vors  to  mend.  *' 

mend  ] 

Hope.  Yes,  and  fled  from,  not  only  my  sins, 
but  sinful  company  too,  and  betook  me  to  religious 
duties  ;  as  praying,  reading,  weeping  for  sin,  speak- 
ing truth  to  n  y  neighbors,  &c.  These  things  did 
I,  with  many  others,  too  much  here  to  relate. 

Chr.   And  did  you  think  yourself  well  then  ] 

Hope.  Yes,  for  a  while ;  but  at  the  last  my 
Then  he  thought  trouble  Came  tumbling  upon  me 
himself  well.  again,  and  that  over  the  neck  of  all 
my  reformations. 

Chr.  How  came  that  about,  since  you  were 
now  reformed  1 

Hope.  There   were  several  things  brought  it 


OF   HIS   CONVERSION.  213 

upon  me,    especially  such  sayino^s  as   Reformation  at 

T  A  i-i  •    1  last  could   not 

these  :  "All  our  righteousnesses  are  as  help,  and  why. 
filthy  rags."  Isa.  64  :  6.  "  By  the  works 
of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be  justified."  Gal.  2  :  16. 
"  When  ye  have  done  all  these  things,  say,  We  are 
unprofitable  ;"  Luke,  17  :  10  ;  with  many  more 
such  like.  From  whence  I  began  to  reason  with 
myself  thus  :  If  all  my  righteousnesses  are  as  filthy 
rags,  if  by  the  deeds  of  the  law  no  man  can  be  jus- 
tified, and  if,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  yet 
unprofitable,  then  is  it  but  a  folly  to  think  of  heaven 
by  the  law.  I  farther  thouofht  thus  :   If  ^„  .  . 

*'  ^  _  Hisbeingadebt- 

a  man  runs  a  hundred  pounds  into  the  oi"  fo  the  law 
shopkeeper's  debt,  and  after  that  shall 
pay  for  all  that  he  shall  fetch  ;  yet  if  his  old  debt 
stand  still  in  the  book  uncrossed,  the  shopkeeper 
may  sue  him  for  it,  and  cast  him  into  prison,  till  he 
shall  pay  the  debt. 

Chr.  Well,  and  how  did  you  apply  this  to 
yourself  1 

Hope.  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself:  I  have 
by  my  sins  run  a  great  way  into  God's  book,  and 
my  now  reforming  will  not  pay  off"  that  score. 
Therefore  I  should  think  still,  under  all  my  pre- 
sent amendments,  But  how  shall  I  be  freed  from 
that  damnation  that  I  brought  myself  in  danger  ol 

Iby  my  former  transgressions  1 
Chr.  a  very  good  application  :  but  pray  go  on 
Hope.  Another   thing   that   hath  troubled  me 
ever  since  my  late  amendments  is,  that  if  I  look 


214  hopeful's  account 

His  espying  bad   naiTowlv  into  tlie  best  of  what  I  do 

things  in  his  best  .  .  ... 

duties  troubled  now,  i  Still  See  Sin,  iiew  Sin,  mixing 
"^  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do  ;  so 

that  now  I  am  forced  to  conclude,  that  notwith- 
standing my  former  fond  conceits  of  myself  and 
duties,  I  have  committed  sin  enough  in  one  day  to 
send  me  to  hell,  though  my  former  life  had  been 
faultless. 

Chr.  And  what  did  you  do  then  1 

Hope.  Do !  I  could  not  teU  what  to  do,  until  I 
broke  my  mind  to  Faithful ;  for  he  and  I  were  well 
„, .        ,    , .      acquainted.  And  he  told  me,  that  un- 

This  made  him  ^  .  .        ' 

break  his  mind  less  I  could  obtaiu  the  ri<?hteousness 

to  Faithfiil,  who       ^  ,  i      i      •  i  • 

toid  him  the  way  01  a  man  that  never  had  sinned,  nei 
ther  mine  owti,  nor  all  the  righteous- 
ness of  the  world,  could  save  me. 

Chr.  And  did  you  think  he  spake  true  1 

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

Chr.  But  did  you  think,  when  at  first  he  sug- 
gested 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  sound- 
ed strangely ;  but  after  a  little  more  talk  and  com- 
pany with  him,  I  had  full  conviction  about  it. 

Chr.  And   did   you   ask   him    what   man  this 


OF    HIS    CONVERSION.  215 

was,    and  how   you  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.  Heb.  10  :  12-21.  And  thus,  said  Amorepai-ticu- 
he,  you  must  be  justified  by  him,  even  Jhe^way^tTbe 
by  trusting  to  what  he  hath  done  by  ^^^^'^• 
himself  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  and  suffered  when 
he  did  hang  on  the  tree.  Rom.  4:5;  Col.  1  :  14 ; 
1  Pet.  1:19.  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  ? 

Hope.  I  made  my  objections  against  my  believ- 
ing, for  that  I  thought  he  was  not  will-      jjg  ^QyVj^a  of 

ing  to  save  me.  acceptation. 

Chr.  And  what  said  Faithful  to  you  then  1 
Hope.  He  bid  me  go  to  him  and  see.  Then  I 
said  it  was  presumption.  He  said,  No ;  for  I  was 
invited  to  come.  Matt.  1 1  :  28.  Then  ^g  ig  tetter  in- 
he  gave  me  a  book  of  Jesus's  inditing,  structed. 
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.  Matt. 
24  :  35.  Then  I  asked  him  what  I  must  do  when 
I  came  ;  and  he  told  me  I  must  entreat  upon  my 
knees,  Psalm  95  :  6  ;     Dan.  6  :  10 ;  with  all  my 


216  HOPEFUL  S    ACCOUNT 

heart  and  soul,  Jer.  29  :  12,  13,  the  Father  to  re- 
veal him  to  me.  Then  I  asked  him  further,  how  ] 
must  make  my  supplications  to  him ;  and  he  said, 
Go,  and  thou  shalt  find  him  upon  a  mercy-seat, 
\vhere  he  sits  all  the  year  long  to  give  pardon  and 
forgiveness  to  them  that  come.  Ex.  25  :  22  ;  Lev. 
16  :  2  ;  Num.  7  :  89 ;  Heb.  4  :  16.  I  told  him  that 
I  knew  not  what  to  say  when  I  came  ; 

He  is  bid  to  pray.  i  i      i  •  i  i  •        m  rn     i 

and  he  bid  me  say  to  this  eiiect :  G-od 
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  righteousness,  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 
Savior  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  this  opportunity,  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  1 

Hope.    Yes,  over,  and  over,  and 

He  prays. 

over. 

Chr.  And  did  the  Father  reveal  the  Son  to  you  1 

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  1 

Hope.  What  1  why,  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do. 


OF    HIS    CONVERSION.  217 

Chr.  Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off 
praying  ] 

Hope.  Yes;   and  a  hundred  times  twice  told. 

Chr.  And  what  was  the  reason  you  did  not  ] 

Hope.  I  believed  that  it  was  true  which  hath 
oeen  told  me,  to  wit,  that  without  the  righteous- 
ness of  this  Christ,  all  the  world  could  not  save 
me  ;  and  therefore,  thought  I  with  my-      ^^^  ^^^^^  ^ 

self,  if  I  leave  off,  I  die,  and  I  can  but   leave  otf  pray- 
ing, and  why. 
die  at  the  throne  of  gi'ace.  And  withal 

this  came  into  my  mind,  "If  it  taiTy,  wait  for  it ; 

because  it  will  surely  come,  and  wil]  not  tany." 

Hab.  2:3.     So  I  continued  praying  until  the  Fa- 

ther  showed  me  his  Son. 

Chr.  And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  1 
Hope.  I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes, 

but  with  the  eyes  of  my  understand-      _  .     . 

•^  *'  Christ  18  re- 

ing,  Eph.  1  :  18,  19  ;  and  thus  it  was.  veaied  to  him. 
One  day  I  was  very  sad,  I  think  sad- 
der than  at  any  one  time  in  my  life ;  and  this  sad- 
ness was  through  a  fresh  sight  of  the  greatness  and 
vileness  of  my  sins.  And  as  I  was  then  looking 
for  nothing  but  hell,  and  the  everlasting  damnation 
of  my  soul,  suddenly,  as  I  thought,  I  saw  the  Lord 
Jesus  looking  down  from  heaven  upon  me,  and 
saying,  "  Believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
thou  shalt  be  saved."    Acts,  16  :  31. 

But  I  replied.  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very  great 
sinner  :  and  he  answered,  "  My  grace  is  sufficient 
for  thee."  2  Cor.  12  :  9.  Then  I  said,  "  But,  Lord, 


218  hopeful's  account 

what  is  believing?"  And  then  I  saw  from  that 
saying,  "  He  that  cometh  to  me  shall  never  hun- 
ger, and  he  that  belie veth  on  me  shall  never  thirst," 
John,  6  :  35,  that  believing  and  coming  was  all 
one  ;  and  that  he  that  came,  that  is,  that  ran  out  in 
his  heart  and  affections  after  salvation  by  Christ, 
he  indeed  believed  in  Christ.  Then  the  water  stood 
in  mine  eyes,  and  I  asked  further,  **  But,  Loid, 
may  such  a  great  sinner  as  I  am  be  indeed  accept- 
ed of  thee,  and  be  saved  by  thee  V  And  I  heard 
him  say,  "  And  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no 
wise  cast  out."  John,  6  :  37.  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  1  Then  he  said,  **  Christ  Jesus  came  into  the 
world  to  save  sinners."  1  Tim.  1  :  15.  He  is  the 
end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that 
believes.  Rom.  10  :  4,  and  chap.  4.  He  died  for 
our  sins,  and  rose  again  for  our  justification.  Rom. 
4  :  25.  He  loved  us,  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 
in  his  own  blood.  Rev.  1  :  5.  He  is  Mediator  be- 
tween God  and  us.  1  Tim.  2  :  5.  He  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  us.  Heb.  7  :  25.  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  submitting  to  the  penalty 
thereof,  was  not  for  himself,  but  for  him  that 
will  accept  it  for  his  salvation,  and  be  thankful. 
And  now  was  my  heart  full    of  joy,    mine    eyes 


OF    HIS    CONVERSION.  219 

full  of  tears,  and  min'e  affections  ininning  over 
with  love  to  the  name,  people,  and  ways  of  Jesus 
Christ. 

Chr.  This  was  a  revelation  of  Christ  to  your 
Boul  indeed.  But  tell  me  particularly  what  effect 
this  had  upon  your  spirit. 

Hope.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  world,  not- 
withstanding all  the  righteousness  thereof,  is  in  a 
state  of  condemnation.  It  made  me  see  that  God 
the  Father,  though  he  be  just,  can  justly  justify  the 
coming  sinner.  It  made  me  greatly  ashamed  of 
the  vileness  of  my  former  life,  and  confounded  me 
with  the  sense  of  mine  own  ignorance ;  for  there 
never  came  a  thought  into  my  heart  before  now 
that  showed  me  so  the  beauty  of  Jesus  Chiist.  It 
made  me  love  a  holy  life,  and  long  to  do  something 
for  the  honor  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  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  Hopeful  looked 
back,  and  saw  Ignorance,  whom  they  had  left  be- 
hind, 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  trow  it  would  not  have  hurt  him 
had  he  kept  pace  with  us  hitherto. 

Chr.  That  is  true,  but  I  warrant  you  he  thirili 
eth  otherwise. 


220  DISCOURSE    OF 

Hope.  That  I  think  he  doth;  but,  however 
let  us  tarry  for  him.     (So  they  did.) 

Then  Christian  said  to  him,  Come 

Voung  Igno-  ,  , 

ranee  comes    away,    man;     why    do    you    stay    so 

up  again.  behind] 

Ignor.  I  take  my  pleasure  in  walking  alone, 
even  more  a  great  deal  than  in  company,  unless  1 
like  it  the  better,  said  he. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  (but  softly,) 
Did  I  not  tell  you  he  cared  not  for  our  company  ? 
But  however,  said  he,  come  up,  and  let  us  talk 
away  the  time  in  this  solitary  place.  Then,  di- 
recting his  speech  to  Ignorance,  he  said.  Come, 
how  do  you  do  ]  How  stands  it  between  God  and 
your  soul  now  1 

Ig-NOR.  I  hope,  well ;    for  I  am  al- 

Ignorance's  r  t\       n  t  •  i 

hope,  and  the  ways  tull  oi  good  motions  that  come 
groun  o  It.       .^j.^  ^y  mind  to  comfort  me  as  I  walk. 

Chr.  What  good  motions  1  Pray  tell  us. 

Ignor.  Why,  I  think  of  God  and  heaven. 

Chr.  So  do  the  devils  and  damned  souls. 

Ignor.  But  I  think  of  them  and  desire  them. 

Chr.  So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to  come 
there.  "  The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desireth,  and 
hath  nothing."  Prov.  13 :  4. 

Ignor.  But  I  think  of  them  and  leave  all  for 
them. 

Chr.  That  I  doubt ;  for  to  leave  all  is  a  very 
hard  matter  ;  yea,  a  harder  matter  than  many  are 
aware  of    But  why,    or  by   what,  art  thou  per-; 


CHRISTIAN   AND   IGNORANCE.  221 

suaded  that  thou  hast  left  all  for  God  and  heaven  ] 

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  The  wise  man  says,  "  He  that  trusts  in 
his  own  heart  is  a  fool."  Prov.  28  :  26. 

Ignor.  That  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart ;  but 
mine  is  a  good  one. 

Chr.  But  how  dost  thou  prove  that  1 

Ignor.  It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  heaven. 

Chr.  That  may  be  through  its  deceitfulness ; 
for  a  man's  heart  may  minister  comfort  to  him  in 
the  hopes  of  that  thing  for  which  he  has   yet  no 
!  gi'ound  to  hope. 

Ignor.  But  my  heart  and  life  agi-ee  together; 
and  therefore  my  hope  is  well  grounded. 

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

Ignor.  My  heart  tells  me  so. 

Chr.  "  Ask  my  fellow  if  I  be  a  thief."  Thy 
heart  tells  thee  so  !  Except  the  word  of  God 
beareth  witness  in  this  matter,  other  testimony  is 
of  no  value. 

\  Ignor.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  hath 
[good  thoughts'?  and  is  not  that  a  good  life  that  is 
according  to  God's  commandments  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath  good 
thoughts,  and  that  is  a  good  life  that  is  according 
[to  God's  commandments;  but  it  is  one  thing  in- 
deed to  have  these,  and  another  thing  only  to 
think  so. 

Ignor    Pray,  what  count  you  good  thoughts 


222  DISCCURSE    OF 

and  a   life   according   to    God's  commandments'? 

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

Ignor.     What    be    good   thoughts    respecting 
ourselves  '? 
What  are  good        ^HR.  Such  as  agi'ce  with  the  vi^ord 

thoughts.        of  God. 

Ignor.  When  do  our  thoughts  of  ourselves 
agree  v^ith  the  w^ord  of  God  ] 

Chr.  When  v;^e  pass  the  same  judgement  upon 
ourselves  which  the  word  passes.  To  explain  my- 
self: the  word  of  God  saith  of  persons  in  a  natural 
condition,  "There  is  none  righteous,  there  is  none 
that  doeth  good."  It  saith  also,  that  "  every  imagi- 
nation of  the  heart  of  man  is  only  evil,  and  that 
continually."  Gen.  6:5;  Rom.  3.  And  again, 
"  The  imagination  of  man's  heart  is  evil  from  his  : 
youth."  Gen.  S  :  21.  Now,  then,  when  we  think 
thus  of  ourselves,  having  sense  thereof,  then  are 
our  thoughts  good  ones,  because  according  to  the 
word  of  God. 

Ignor.  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  judgement  upon  ouj 
hearts,  so  it  passeth  a  judgement  upon  our  ways ; 
and  when  the  thoughts  of  our  hearts  and  ways 
agree  with  the  judgement  which  the  word  giveth  of 


CHRISTIAN    AND    IGNOHANCE.  223 

both,  then  are  both  good,  because  agreemg  thereto. 

Ignor.  Make  out  your  meaning. 

Chr.  Why,  the  word  of  God  saith,  that  man's 
ways  are  crooked  ways,  not  good,  but  perverse ; 
it  saith,  they  are  naturally  out  of  the  good  way, 
that  they  have  not  known  it.  Psalm  125  :  5 ; 
Prov.  2  :  15;  Rom.  3  :  12.  Now  when  a  man 
thus  thinketh  of  his  ways,  1  say  when  he  doth 
sensibly,  and  with  heart -humiliation,  thus  think, 
ithen  hath  he  good  thoughts  of  his  own  ways,  be- 
cause his  thoughts  now  agree  with  the  judgement 
of  the  word  of  God. 

Ignor.  What  are  good  thoughts  concerning 
Godi 

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  have  we 
right  thoughts  of  God  when  we  think  that  he 
knows  us  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  and  can 
see  sin  in  us  when  and  where  we  can  see  none  in 
ourselves:  when  we  think  he  knows  our  inmost 
thoughts,  and  that  our  heart,  with  all  its  depths, 
is  always  open  unto  his  eyes ;  also  when  we 
think  that  all  our  righteousness  stinks  in  his  nos- 
trils, and  that  therefore  he  cannot  abide  to  see  us 
stand  before  him  in  any  confidence,  even  in  all  otir 
best  performances. 


224  DISCOURSE    OF 

Ignoe.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool  as  to 
think  that  God  can  see  no  further  than  I;  or  that  1 
would  come  to  God  in  the  best  of  my  performances] 

Chr.  Why,  how  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter  ] 

Ignor.  Why,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must  be- 
lieve in  Christ  for  justification. 

Chr.  How!  think  thou  must  believe  in  Christ, 
when  thou  seest  not  thy  need  of  him  !  Thou  nei- 
ther seest  thy  original  nor  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  the  necessity  of  Christ's  personal  righ- 
teousness to  justify  thee  before  God.  How,  then, 
dost  thou  say,  I  believe  in  Christ  ? 

Ignor.  I  believe  well  enough  for  all  that. 

Chr.  How  dost  thou  believe  1 

Ignor.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners ; 
Tiie  faith  of  ^^^  tihat  I  shall  be  justified  before  God 
Ignorance.  f^om  the  curso,  through  his  gi^acious 
acceptance  of  my  obedience  to  his  laws.  Or  thus, 
Christ  makes  my  duties,  that  are  religious,  accept- 
able 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  desci'ibed  in  the  word. 

2.  Thou  believest  with  a  false  faith ;  because 
it  taketh  justification  from  the  personal  righteous- 
ness of  Christ,  and  applies  it  to  thy  own. 


CHRISTIAN    AND    IGNORANCE.  225 

3.  This  faith  maketh  not  Christ  a  justifier  of 
thy  person,  but  of  thy  actions ;  and  of  thy  person 
for  thy  actions'  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 
flying  for  refuge  unto  Christ's  righteousness ; 
(which  righteousness  of  his  is  not  an  act  of  grace 
by  which  he  maketh,  for  justification,  thy  obe- 
dience accepted  with  God,  but  his  personal  obe- 
dience to  the  law,  in  doing  and  suffering  for  us 
what  that  required  at  our  hands ;)  this  righteous- 
ness, I  say,  true  faith  accepteth ;  under  the  skirt 
of  which  the  soul  being  shrouded,  and  by  it  pre- 
sented as  spotless  before  God,  it  is  accepted,  and 
acquitted  from  condemnation. 

Ignor.  What !  would  you  have  us  trust  ta 
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  1 

Chr.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name 
is,  so  art  thou  :  even  this  thy  answer  demonstra 
teth  what  I  say.  Ignorant  thou  art  of  what  jus- 
tifying 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 

Pil.  Progrew.  15 


226  FOLLY    OF    IGNORANCE. 

of  the  true  effects  of  saving  faith  in  this  righteous 
ness  of  Christ,  which  is  to  bow  and  win  over  the 
lieart  to  God  in  Christ,  to  love  his  name,  his  word, 
ways,  and  people,  and  not  as  t^hoij  ignorantly 
imaginest. 

Hope.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  had  Christ  revealed 
to  him  from  heaven. 

Ignor.  What !  you  are  a  man  for  revelations  ; 
I  do  believe,  that  what  both  you  and 

Ignorance  *' 

jangles  with       all  the  rest  of  you  say  about  that  mat- 
ter, is  but  the  fruit  of  distracted  brains. 
Hope.  Why,  man !    Christ  is  so  hid  in  God 
from  the  natural  apprehensions  of  the  flesh,  that 
he  cannot  by  any  man  be  savingly  known,  unless 
God  the  Father  reveals  him  to  him. 
•   Ignor.  That  is  your  faith,  but  not  mine:  yet 
He  speaks  re-   "^i"^,  I  doubt  not,  is  as  good  as  yours, 
proachtuiiy  of  thouf^h  I  havo  uot  in  my  head  so  many 

what  he  knows  ^  °   ^  *'  *' 

not  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  com- 
panion 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  ex- 
ceeding greatness  of  his  mighty  power  ;  Matt.  11  : 
27  ;  1  Cor.  12  :  3 ;  Eph.  1  :  17-19  ;  the  working  of 
which  faith,  I  perceive,  poor  Ignorance,  thou  art 
ignorant  of    Be   awakened   then,  see  thine  own 


IGNORANCE    STAYS    BEHIND.  227 

wretchedness,  and  fly  to  the  Lord  Jesus ;  and  by 
his  ricrhteousness,  which  is  the  ri2:hteousness  ol 
God,  (for  he  himself  is  God,)  thou  shalt  be  de 
hvered  from  condemnation. 

Ignor.  You  go  so  fast  I  cannot  keep  pace  witl) 
you;  do  you  go  on  before:  I  must  The  talk  broka 
stay  awhile  behind.  '^p- 

Then  they  said — 

Well,  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be. 
To  slight  ^^ood  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  tho'.i  yet  shalt  slight  it,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser.  Ignorance,  I'll  warrant  thee. 


T=#»#«#=- 


9ri)e    SCentI)    Stage. 

Then  Christian  addressed  himself  thus  to  his 
fellow : 

Chr.  Well,  come,  my  good  Hopeful,  I  per- 
ceive that  thou  vmd  I  must  walk  by  ourselves  again. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they  went  on  apace 
before,  and  Ignorance  he  came  hobbling  after. 
Theti  said  Christian  to  his  companion,  I  much 
pity  this  poor  man  :  it  will  certainly  go  ill  with 
him  at  last. 


228  CHrcISTIAN    AND    HOPEFUL. 

Hope.  Alas  !  there  are  abundance  in  our  town 
in  his  condition,  whole  families,  yea,  whole  streets, 
and  that  of  pilgrims  too  ;  and  if  there  be  so  many 
in  our  parts,  how  many  think  you  must  there  be 
in  the  place  where  he  was  born ! 

Chr.  Indeed,  the  word  saith,  "  He  hath  blind- 
ed their  eyes,  lest  they  should  see,"  &c. 

But,  now  we  are  by  ourselves,  what  do  you 
think  of  such  men  1  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  youi 
self,  for  you  are  the  elder  man. 

Chr.  Then  I  say,  sometimes  (as  I  think)  they 
may ;  but  they  being  naturally  ignorant,  under- 
stand not  that  such  convictions  tend  to  their  good ; 
and  therefore  they  do  desperately  seek  to  stifle 
them,  and  presumptuously  continue  to  flatter  them- 
selves in  the  way  of  their  own  hearts. 

Hope.  I  do  believe,  as  you  say,  that  fear  tends 
The  good  use     much  to    men's    good,    and    to   make 

of  fear.  them  right  at  their  beginning  to  go  on 

pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Without  all  doubt  it  doth,  if  it  be  right  : 
lor  so  says  the  word,  *'  The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
Deginning  of  wisdom,"  Job,  28  :  28  ;  Psalm  111  : 
10;   Prov.  1:7;    9  :  10. 

Hope.  How  will  you  describe  right  fear  1 
'    „.  . ,  ^  Chr.    True  or  vmht  fear  is  discov- 

Right  fear.  ,         » 

ered  by  three  things  : 


CHRISTIAN    AND    HOPEFUL.  229 

1.  By  its  rise  :  it  is  caused  by  saving  convic- 
tions for  sin. 

2.  It  drivotli  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of  Christ 
for  salvation. 

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  any  thing  that  may 
dishonor  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  1 

Chr.    Why  1  are  you  weary  of  this  discourse  ] 

Hope.  No,  verily,  but  that  I  would  know  where 
we  are. 

Chr.  We  have  not  now  above  two  miles  further 
to  go  thereon.     But  let  us  return  to  our  matter. 

Now  the  ignorant  know  not  that  such  convic 
lions  as  tend  to  put  them  in  fear,  are 
for  their  good,  and  therefore  they  seek     persons  stifle 
to  stifle  them.  '=°°^'''=^^°"- 

Hope.  How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them] 

Chr.  1.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wi'ought 
by  the  devil,  (though  inde-ed  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  arc,  they  have  none  al  all ;  and  therefore  they 


230  TALE    OF    TEMPORARY. 

harden  their  hearts  against  them.     3.  They  pre- 
Bume  they  ought  not  to  fear,  and  therefore,  in  des- 
pite of  them,  wax  presumptuously  confident. 
They  see  that  those  fears  tend  to  take  away  fro; 
tliem  their  pitiful  old  self-holinesp,  and  therefo: 
ihey  resist  them  with  all  their  miglit. 

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  an- 
other profitable  question. 

Hope.  With  all  my  heart;  but  you  shall  still 
begin. 

Chr.    Well,    then,  did  you   know,  about   ten 
Talk  about  one   years   ago,   one    Tempoiary  in   your 
'lemporary.     pg^j-f-g^  ^}jq  ^^g  g,  forward  man  in  re- 
ligion then? 

Hope.  Know  him  !  yes ;  he  dwelt  in  Graceless, 
a  town  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and  he 
dwelt  next  door  to  one  Turnback. 

Ohr.  Right ;  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof  with 
him.  Well,  that  man  was  much  awakened  once  : 
I  believe  that  then  he  had  some  sight  of  his  sins, 
and  of  the  wages  that  were  due  thereto. 

Hope.  I  am  of  your  mind,  for  (my  house  not 
being  above  three  miles  from  him)  he  would  o' 
times  come  to  me,  and  that  vnth  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  V* 


TALK    OF    TEMPORARY.  231 

Chr.  He  told  me  once  that  he  was  resolved  to 
go  on  pilgrimage,  as  we  go  now ;  but  all  of  a  sud- 
den he  grew  acquainted  with  one  Saveself,  and 
then  he  became  a  stranger  to  me. 

Hope,  Now,  since  we  are  talking  about  him, 
let  us  a  little  inquire  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  judgement, 
four  reasons  for  it : 

1.  Though  the  consciences  of  such  men  are 
awakened,  yet  their  minds  are  not  changed :  there- 
fore, when  the  power  of  guilt  weareth  away,  that 
which  provoked  them  to  be  religious  ceaseth ; 
wherefore  they  naturally  turn  to  their  old  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  alienated  from  his  vomit, 
he  tunis  him  about,  and  licks  up  all ;  and  so  it  is 
true  which  is  written,  "  The  dog  is  turned  to  his 
own  vomit  again."  2  Pet.  2  :  22.  Thus,  I  say,  be- 
ing hot  for  heaven,  by  virtue  only  of  the  sense  and 
feai'  of  the  torments  of  hell,  as  their  sense  of  hell 
and  fear  of  damnation  chills  and  cools,  so  their  de- 
sires for  heaven  and  salvation  cool  also.  So  then  it 
comes  to  pass,  that  when  their  giiilt  and  fear  is  gone, 


232  TALK    OF    TEMPORARY. 

their  desires  for  heaven  and  happiness  die,  and  they 
return  to  their  course  again. 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that 
do  overmaster  them  :  I  speak  now  of  the  fears  that 
they  have  of  men  :  "  For  the  fear  of  man  bringeth 
a  snare."  Prov.  29  :  25.  So  then,  though  they 
seem  to  be  hot  for  heaven  so  long  as  the  flames  of 
hell  are  about  their  ears,  yet,  w^hen  that  terror  is 
a  little  over,  they  betake  themselves  to  second 
thoughts,  namely,  that  it  is  good  to  be  wise,  and 
not  to  run  (for  they  know  not  what)  the  hazard  of 
losing  all,  or  at  least  of  bringing  themselves  into 
unavoidable  and  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  the  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  at  first, 
if  they  loved  that  sight,  might  make  them  fly  whi- 
ther 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  choose 
such  ways  as  will  harden  them  more  and  more. 


TALK    OF    TEMPORARY.  233 

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  that  he 
hath  any  detestation  of  the  offence,  as  it  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  showed  you  the  reason  of 
their  going  back,  do  you  show  me  the  manner 
thereof. 

Chr.  So  I  will  willingly  : 

1.  They  draw  oflf  their  thoughts,  all  that  they 
may,  from  the  remembrance  of  God,  jj^^  j^e  Apos- 
death,  and  judgement  to  come.  ^^^®  S"^^  ^^^^ 

2.  Then  they  cast  off  by  degi'ees  private  duties, 
as  closet  prayer,  curbing  their  lusts,  watching,  sor- 
row for  sin,  and  the  like. 

3.  Then  they  shun  the  company  of  lively  and 
warm  christians. 

4.  After  that,  they  grow  cold  to  public  duty,  as 
hearing,  reading,  godly  conference,  and  the  like. 

5.  They  then  begin  to  pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in 
the  coats  of  some  of  the  godly,  and  that  devilishly, 
that  they  may  have  a  seeming  color  to  throw  reli- 
gion (for  the  sake  of  some  infirmities  they  have  es- 
pied in  them)  behind  their  backs. 

6.  Then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  associate 


234  THEY   ARRIVE    AT    BEULAH. 

themselves  with,  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  show  them- 
selves 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  Enchanted  Ground, 
and  entering  into  the  country  of  Beulah ;  Isa. 
62  :  4-12  ;  Cant.  2  :  10-12  ;  whose  air  was  very 
sweet  and  pleasant ;  the  way  lying  directly  through 
it,  they  solaced  themselves  there  for  a  season. 
Yea,  here  they  heard  continually  the  singing  of 
birds,  and  saw  every  day  the  flowers  appear  in  the 
earth,  and  heard  the  voice  of  the  turtle  in  the  land. 
In  this  countiy  the  sun  shineth  night  and  day  : 
wherefore  this  was  beyond  the  Valley  of  the  Sha- 
dow of  Death,  and  also  out  of  the  reach  of  Giant 
Despair ;  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so 
much  as  see  Doubting  Castle.  Here  they  were 
within  sight  of  the  City  they  were  going  to;  also 
here  met   them    some  of  the  inhabi- 

Angels. 

tants  thereof;  for  in  this  land  the  Shui- 


THEIR    FEELINGS   IN    BEULAH.  235 

ing  Ones  commonly  walked,  because  it  was  upon 
the  borders  of  heaven.  In  this  land  also  the  con- 
tract between  the  Bride  and  the  Bridegroom  was 
renewed  ;  yea,  here,  "  as  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth 
over  the  bride,  so  doth  their  God  rejoice  over 
them."  Here  they  had  no  want  of  corn  and  v/ine  ; 
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  of  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,"  &c. 

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  streets  thereof  were 
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  awhile,  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  or- 


236  THEIR   FEELINGS    IN    BEULAH. 

cliards,  vineyards,  and  gardens,  and  their  gates 
opened  into  the  highway.  Now,  as  they  came  up 
to  these  places,  behold  the  gardener  stood  in  the 
way ;  to  whom  the  pilgrims  said.  Whose  goodly 
vineyards  and  gardens  are  these]  He  answered. 
They  are  the  King's,  and  are  planted  here  for  his 
own  delight,  and  also  for  the  solace  of  pilgrims. 
So  the  gardener  had  them  into  the  vineyards,  and 
bid  them  refresh  themselves  with  the  dainties ; 
Deut.  23  :  24 ;  he  also  showed  them  there  the 
Kingr's  w^alks  and  arbors  where  he  delighted  to  be  : 
and  here  they  tarried  and  slept. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream  that  they  talked 
more  in  their  sleep  at  this,  time  than  ever  they  did 
in  all  their  journey  ;  and,  being  in  a  muse  there- 
about, the  gardener  said  even  to  me.  Wherefore 
musest  thou  at  the  matter  1  it  is  the  nature  of  the 
fruit  of  the  gi'apes  of  the$e  vineyards  "  to  go  down 
so  sweetly  as  to  cause  the  lips  of  them  that  are 
asleep  to  speak."  Cant.  7  :  9. 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  awoke  they  addressed 
themselves  to  go  up  to  the  City.  But,  as  I  said, 
the  reflection  of  the  sun  upon  the  City  (for  the 
City  was  pure  gold,  Rev.  21  :  18,)  was  so  ex- 
ti-eraely  glorious  that  they  could  not  as  yet  with 
open  face  behold  it,  but  through  an  instrument 
made  for  that  purpose.  2  Cor.  3  :  IS.  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. 


THEY    REACH    THE    RIVER.  237 

These  men  asked  the  pilgiims  whence  they 
came  ;  and  they  told  them.  They  also  asked  them 
where  they  had  lodged,  what  difficulties  and  dan- 
gers, what  comforts  and  pleasures,  they  had  met 
with  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  that 
they  would ;  But,  said  they,  you  must  obtain  it  by 
your  own  faith.  So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they 
went  on  together  till  they  came  in  sight  of  the  gate. 

Now  I  further  saw,  that  betwixt  them  and  the 
gate  was  a  river;  but  there  was  no 
bridge  to  go  over ;  and  the  river  was 
very  deep.  At  the  sight  therefore  of  this  river  the 
pilgi'ims  were  much  stunned;  but  the  men  that 
went  with  them  said.  You  must  go  through  or  you 
cannot  come  at  the  gate. 

The  pilgi-ims  then  began  to  inquire  if  there  was 
no  other  way  to  the  gate.  To  which  they  answered, 
Yes ;  but  there  hath  not  any,  save  two,  to  wit, 
Enoch  and  Elijah,  been  permitted  to  tread  that 
path  since  the  foundation  of  the  world,  nor  shall 
until  the  last  trumpet  shall  sound.  The  pilgrims 
then,  especially  Christian,  began  to  despond  in 
their  mind,  and  looked  this  way  and  Diaih  not 
that,  but  no  way  could  be  found  by  ^trough'y 
them  by  which  they  might  escape  the  iJiihTs Sdin' 
river.    Then  tliey  asked  the  men  if  the    to  glory. 


238  christian's  distress 

waters  were  all  of  a  depth.     They  said,  No ,  yet 
Angels  help   ^^^^J  could  not  help  them  in  that  case ; 

abi^'''  "throSh   -^*^^'  ^^^^  ^^^^J'  y^^  ^^^^^  ^"^  ^^  deeper 
death.  or  sliallower  as  you  believe  in  the  King 

of  the  place. 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the  water, 
and  entering,  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  cheer,  my 
brother :  I  feel  the  bottom,  and  it  is  good.  Then 
said  Christian,  Ah !  my  friend,  the  sorrows  of 
death  have  compassed  me  about,  I  shall  not  see 
the  land  that  flows  with  milk  and  honey.  And 
with  that  a  great  darkness  and  horror 

Christian's  con-     _  ,,  /-,!••  i  i  n  i 

flict  at  the  hour  fell  upon  Christian,  so  that  he  could 
not  see  before  him.  Also  here  he  in  a 
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 
spoke  still  tended  to  discover  that  he  had  horror 
of  mind,  and  heart-fears  that  he  should  die  in  that 
river  and  never  obtain  entrance  in  at  the  gate. 
Here  also,  as  they  that  stood  by  perceived,  he  was 
much  in  the  troublesome  thoughts  of  the  sins  that 
he  had  committed,  both  since  and  before  he  began 
to  be  a  pilgrim.  It  was  also  observed,  that  he  was 
ti'oubled  with  apparitions  of  hobgoblins  and  evil 


IN    THE    RIVER.  239 

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 
awhile,  he  would  rise  up  again  half  dead.  Hope- 
ful did  also  endeavor  to  comfort  him,  saying, 
Brother,  I  see  the  gate,  and  men  standing  by  to 
receive  us ;  but  Christian  would  answer.  It  is 
you,  it  is  you  they  wait  for ;  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 
is  said  of  the  wicked,  "  There  are  no  bands 
in  their  death,  but  their  strength  is  firm ;  they 
are  not  troubled  as  other  men,  neither  are  they 
plagued  like  other  men."  Psalm  73  :  4,  5.  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  re- 
ceived of  his  goodness,  and  live  upon  him  in  youi 
distresses. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  was  in 
a  muse  awhile.  To  whom  also  Hopeful  added 
these  words,  Be  of  good  cheer,  Jesus  Christ  mak- 
eth  thee  whole.    And  with  that  Christian  brake  out 


240  THEY    CROSS    THE    RIVER. 

with  a  loud  voice,  Oh,  I  see  him  again;  and  he 
tells  me,  "  When  thou  passest  through 
livered  from  his  the  waters,  I  wiU  be  with  thee;  and 
fears  in  death.  ^^^,^^^^1  the  rivers,  they  shall  not  over- 
flow thee."  Isa.  43  :  2.  Then  they  both  took  cour 
age,  and  the  enemy  was  after  that  as  still  as  a 
stone,  until  they  were  gone  over.  Christian,  there- 
fore, presently  found  ground  to  stand  upon,  and  so 
it  followed  that  the  rest  of  the  river  was  but  shal- 
low.    Thus  they  got  over. 

Now  upon  the  bank  of  the  river,  on  the  other 

side,  they  saw  the  two  shining  men  again,  who 

there  waited  for  them.    Wherefore   being   come 

,  ,     out  of  the  river,  they  saluted  them,  say- 

The  angels  do  ...  "^ 

wait  for  them   ing.  We  are  mmistering  spirits,  sent 

80  soon  as  they     p       ,  .     .  r         ■,  i  i     ■,,  , 

are  passed  out  lorth  to  mmistor  tor  those  that  shall  be 
oftiswoi  .  |-jgipg  Qf  salvation.  Thus  they  went 
along  toward  the  gate. 

Now  you  must  note,  that  the  City  stood  upon  a 
mighty  hill;  but  the  pilgrims  went  up  that  hill 
with  ease,  because  they  had  these  two  men  to  lead 
them  up  by  the  arms  :  they  had  likewise  left  their 
They  have  put  mortal  garments  behind  them  in  the 
off  mortality,  ^ver ;  for  though  they  went  in  with 
them,  they  came  out  without  them.  They  there- 
fore went  up  here  with  much  agility  and  speed, 
though  the  foundation  upon  which  the  City  was 
framed  was  higher  than  the  clouds,  they  therefore 
went  up  through  the  region  of  the  air,  sweetly 
talking  as  they  went,  being  comforted  because  they 


OTHER    SIDE    OF    THE    RIVER.  241 

safely  got  over  the  river,  and  had  such  glorious 
companions  to  attend  them. 

The  talk  that  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  "  Mount  Sion,  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem,  the  innumerable  company  of  angels, 
and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect."  Heb. 
12  :  22-24.  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  eveiy 
day  with  the  King,  even  all  the  days  of  eternity 
Rev.  2:7;  3  :  4,  5 ;  22  :  5.  There  vott  shall  not 
see  again  such  things  as  you  saw  when  ^  ou  were 
in  the  lower  region  upon  the  earth ;  to  wit,  sor- 
row, sickness,  affliction,  and  death  ;  **  For  the  for- 
mer things  are  passed  away."  Rev.  21  :  4.  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  1  To  whom  it  was  an- 
swered. 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.  Gal.  6  :  7,  8.    In  that  place  you 

PU.  Progress.  16 


242  HAPPINESS    OF    HEAVEN. 

must  wear  crowns  of  gold,  and  enjoy  the  perpetual 
sight  and  vision  of  the  Holy  One  :  for  "  there  you 
shall  see  him  as  he  is."  1  John,  3  :  2.  There  also 
you  shall  serve  Him  continually  with  praise,  with 
shouting  and  thanksgiving,  whom  you  desired  to 
serve  in  the  world,  though  with  much  difficulty, 
because  of  the  infirmity  of  your  flesh.  There  your 
eyes  shall  be  delighted  with  seeing,  and  your  ears 
with  hearing  the  pleasant  voice  of  the  Mighty  One. 
There  you  shall  enjoy  your  friends  again  that  are 
gone  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 
clothed  with  glory  and  majesty,  and  put  into  an 
equipage  fit  to  ride  out  with  the  King  of  Glory. 
When  he  shall  come  with  sound  of  trumpet  in  the 
clouds,  as  upon  the  wings  of  the  wind,  you  shall 
come  with  him ;  and  when  he  shall  sit  upon  the 
throne  of  judgement,  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  judgement,  be- 
cause 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.  1  Thess.  4  :  14-17 ;  Jude,  14,  15  ;  Dun. 
7  ;  9,  10 ;    1  Cor.  6  :  2,  3. 

Now  while  they  were  thus  drawing  toward  the 
gate,  behold  a  company  of  the  heavenly  host  came 
out  to  meet  them :  to  whom  it  was  said  by  tha 


WELCOME    OF    ANGELS.  243 

Other  two  shining  ones,  These  are  the  men  that 
have  loved  our  Lord,  w^hen  they  were  in  the 
W)rld,  and  that  have  left  all  for  his  holy  name, 
aiid  he  hath  sent  us  to  fetch  them,  and  we  have 
brought  them  thus  far  on  their  desired  journey,  that 
tliey  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  mamage-supper  of  the  Lamb."  Rev.  19  :  9. 
There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to  meet  them 
several  of  the  King's  trumpeters,  clothed  in  white 
and  shining  raiment,  who,  wiih  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,  and  some  on  the  left,  (as  it 
were  to  guard  them  through  the  upper  regions,) 
continually  sounding  as  they  went,  with  melodious 
noise,  in  notes  on  high  :  so  that  the  very  sight  was 
to  them  that  could  behold  it  as  if  heaven  itself  was 
come  down  to  meet  them.  Thus  therefore  they 
walked  on  together;  and,  as  they  walked,  ever 
and  anon  these  trumpeters,  even  with  joyful 
sound,  would,  by  mixing  their  music  with  looks 
and  gestures,  still  signify  to  Christian  and  his  bro- 
ther how  welcome  they  were  into  their  c-mpany, 


244  THE    CELESTIAL    CITY. 

and  with  what  gladness  they  came  to  meet  theiii. 
And  now  were  these  two  men,  as  it  were,  in  hea- 
ven, before  they  came  to  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  thereta 
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  express- 
ed ! — Thus  they  came  up  to  the  gate. 

Now  when  they  were  come  up   to   the    gate, 
there  was  wiitten  over  it  in  letters  of  gold, 

"BLESSED  ARE  THEY  THAT  DO  HIS  COM- 
*'MANDMENTS,  THAT  THEY  MAY  HAVE 
"  RIGHT  TO  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE,  AND  MAY 
"ENTER  IN  THROUGH  THE  GATES  INTO 
"  THE    CITY."  ] 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  shining  men 
bid  them  call  at  the  gate  :  the  which  when  they 
did,  some  from  above  looked  over  the  gate,  to  wit, 
Enoch,  Moses,  and  Elijah,  &:c.  to  whom  it  was 
said.  These  pilgrims  are  come  from  the  City  of 
Dcitruction,  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  re- 
ceived in  the  beginning;  those  therefore  wei 
carried  in  unto  the  King,  who,  when  he  had  rei 


THE    CELESTIAL    CITY.  240 

them,  said,  Where  are  the  men  ]  To  whom  it 
was  answered,  They  are  standing  without  the 
gate.  The  King  then  commanded  to  open  the 
gate,  *'  That  the  righteous  nation  (said  he)  that 
kecpeth  the  truth  may  enter  in."  Isa.  26  : 2. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  these  two  me  a 
went  in  at  the  gate  ;  and  lo  !  as  they  entered,  they 
were  transfigured ;  and  they  had  raiment  put  on 
that  shone  like  gold.  There  were  also  that  met 
them  with  harps  and  crowns,  and  gave  them  to 
them  ;  the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and  the  crowns 
in  token  of  honor.  Then  I  heard  in  my  dream 
that  all  the  bells  in  the  City  rang  again  for  joy, 
and  that  it  was  said  unto  them, 

"ENTER  YE  INTO  THE  JOY  OF  OUR  LORD." 

I  also  heard  the  men  themselves,  that  they  sang 
with  a  loud  voice,  saying, 

"  BLESSIXG,  AND  HONOR,  AND  GLORY,  AND 
"POWER,  BE  UNTO  HIM  THAT  SITTETH 
"  UPON  THE  THRONE,  AND  UNTO  THE 
"LAMB,  FOR  EVER  AND  EVER." 

Now,  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  ihe 
men,  I  looked  in  after  them,  and  behold  the  City 
slione  like  the  sun;  the  streets  also  were  paved 
with  gold ;  and  in  them  walked  many  men,  with 
crowns  on  their  heads,  palms  in  their  hau'3s,  and 
golden  harps,  to  sing  praises  withal. 


240  THE    END    OF    IGXORANCE. 

They  were  also  of  them  that  had  wings,  and  they 
answered  one  another  without  inteiTnission,  say- 
in?,  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  thingr?, 
I  turned  my  head  to  look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance 
ignorancecomes   come  up  to   the  river  side  ;    but  he 

up  to  the  river,    g^^^  ^^^   ^^.g^.^  ^^^    ^-^^^^   without   half 

the  difficulty  which  the  other  two  men  met  with. 
For  It  happened  that  there  was  then  in  that  place 
Vain-Hopedoes  ^^^  Vaiu-Hope,  a  feiTjTuan,  that  with 
ferry  him  over,  j^^g  j^Q^t  helped  him  over ;  so  he,  as  the. 
others  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  looked 
over  the  top  o^the  gate,  Whence  come  you  1  and 
what  would  you  have  1  He  answered,  I  have  ate . 
aid  drank  in  the  presence  of  the  King,  and  he  lias 
taught  in  our  sti-eets.  Then  they  asked  him  for  his 
certificate,  that  they  might  go  in  and  show  itio  th< 
King:  so  he  fumbled  in  his  bosom  for  one,  and 
found  none.  Then  said  they.  Have  you  none  1  but 
the  man  answered  never  a  word.  So  they  told  the 
Kinor,  but  he  would  not  come  down  to  see  him,  but 
commanded  the  two  shininoj  ones,  that  conducted 


coxcLUSiON.  247 

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  car- 
ried him  through  the  air,  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in 
tlie  side  of  the  hill,  and  put  him  in  there.  Then  T 
saw  that  there  was  a  way  to  hell  even  from  the 
gate  of  heaven,  as  well  as  from  the  City  of  De- 
stiuction.     So  I  awoke,  and  behold  it  was  a  dream. 


CONCLUSION. 

Now,  reader,  I  have  told  my  dream  to  thee. 

See  if  thou  canst  interpret  it  to  me, 

Or  to  thyself,  or  neighbor  :  but  take  heed 

Of  misinterpreting ;  for  that,  instead 

Of  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse : 

By  misinterpreting,  evil  ensues. 

Take  heed  also  that  thou  be  not  extreme 

In  playing  with  the  outside  of  my  dream : 

Nor  let  my  figure  or  similitude 

Put  thee  into  a  laughter,  or  a  feud. 

Leave  this  for  boys  and  fools  ;  but  as  for  thee, 

Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  master  see. 

Put  by  the  curtains,  look  within  my  vail, 

Turn  up  my  metaphor's,  and  do  not  fail. 

There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  thou'lt  fiiK? 

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  throws  away  the  apple  for  the  core  : 

But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 

I  know  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again. 


THE 

PILGRIM'S  PROTtRESS 

FROM 

THIS    WORLD 

TO 

THAT    WHICH  IS    TO    COME 

DELIVERED  UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM. 


PART   II. 
WHEREIN  IS  SET  FORTH  THE  MANNER 

OF  THE 

SETTING  OUT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  WIFE  &  CHILDREN: 

THEIB 

DANGEROUS   JOURNEY, 

AND 

SAFE  ARRIVAL   AT  THE  DESIRED  COUNTRY. 


I  have  used  similitudes^ — Hosea,  12  :  10. 


THE    AUTHOR'S 

WAY  OF  SENDING  FORTH 

HIS 

SECOND  Part  of  the  pilgrim, 


Go  now,  my  little  Book,  to  every  place 

Where  my  first  Pilgrim  has  but  shown  his  face : 

Call  at  their  door  :  if  any  say,  Wlio'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  they'll  know  them  by  their  looks,  or  name . 

But  if  they  should  not,  ask  them  yet  again, 

If  formerly  they  did  not  entertain 

One  Christian,  a  Pilgrim?     If  they  say 

They  did,  and  were  delighted  in  his  way ; 

Then  let  them  know  that  these  related  were 

Unto  him  :  yea,  his  wife  and  children  are. 

Tell  them,  that  they  have  left  their  house  and  homo ; 
Are  turned  Pilgrims  :  seek  a  world  to  come  ; 
That  they  have  met  ^vith  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  e^dls ; 


252  THE  author's  account 

Yea,  tell  them  also  of  the  next  who  have, 
Of  love  to  pilgrimage,  been  stout  and  brave 
Defenders  of  that  way  ;  and  how  they  still 
Refuse  this  world  to  do  their  Father's  will. 
Go  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  he  for  them  provides ; 
Though  they  meet  with  rough  winds  and  swelling  tides , 
How  brave  a  calm  they  will  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  firstling ;  and  will  grace 
Thee  and  thy  fellows  with  such  cheer  and  fare 
As  show  well,  they  of  Pilgrims  lovers  are. 

OBJECTION    I. 

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. 

'Tis  true,  some  have,  of  late,  to  counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own  my  title  set ; 
Yea,  others  half  my  name,  and  title  too, 
Have  stitched  to  their  books,  to  make  them  do. 


or    HIS    SECOND    PART.  253 

But  yet  they,  by  their  features,  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whose'er  they  are. 

If  such  thou  meet'st  with,  then  thine  only  way. 
Before  them  all,  is  to  say  out  thy  say 
In  thine  own  native  language,  which  no  man 
Now  useth,  nor  with  ease  dissemble  can. 

If,  after  all,  they  still  of  you  shall  doubt, 
Thinking  that  you,  like  gypsies,  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  testify  you  pilgrims  be ; 
Yea,  I  will  testify  that  only  you 
My  pilgrims  are,  and  that  alone  wiU  do. 

OBJECTION    II. 

But  yet,  perhaps  I  may  inquire  for  him 
Of  those  who  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  book  has  travell'd  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. 


ibi  THE    author's    account 

In  France  and  Flanders,  where  men  kill  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  famiUar  with  them  be. 

'Tis  in  New  England  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  lo\dng  countenance, 
As  to  be  trimm'd,  new  cloth'd,  and  deck'd  with  gems 
That  it  might  show  its  features,  and  its  limbs. 
Yet  more  :  so  comely  doth  my  Pilgrim  walk. 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  sing  and  talk. 

If  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear 
My  Pilgrim  knows  no  ground  of  shame  or  fear 
City  and  country  will  him  entertain, 
"With  Welcome,  Pilgrim ;  yea,  they  can't  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by. 
Or  sliows  his  head  in  any  company. 

Brave  gallants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  love. 
Esteem  it  much,  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk;  yea,  with  deHght 
Say,  my  lark's  leg  is  better  than  a  kite, 
^oung  ladies,  and  young  gentlewomen  too, 
Do  not  small  kindness  to  my  Pilgrim  show  :  i 

Their  cabinets,  their  bosoms,  and  their  hearts 
My  pilgrim  has  ;  'cause  he  to  them  imparts 
His  pretty  riddles  in  such  wholesome  strains, 
As  yield  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 


or    HIS    SECOND    PART.  255 

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  ray  holy  Pilgrim  meet, 
Salute  him  will;  will  wish  him  well,  and  tay 
IJe  is  the  only  stripling  of  the  day. 

The}'  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
Wliat  they  have  heard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 

Yea,  some  that  did  not  love  him  at  the  first. 
But  call'd  him  fool  and  noddy,  say  they  must. 
Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend : 
And  to  those  whom  they  love  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore,  my  Second  Part,  thou  need'st  not  be 
Afraid  to  show  thy  head  :  none  can  hurt  thee. 
That  wish  but  well  to  him  that  went  before: 
'Cause  thou  com'st  after  with  a  second  stoie 
Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable, 
For  young,  for  old,  for  stagg'ring,  and  for  stable. 

OBJECTION    III. 

But  some  there  be  that  say,  He  laughs  too  loud  j 
And  some  do  sa}'.  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. 


256  THE  author's  account 


One  may,  I  think,  say,  Both  his  laughs  and  cries 
May  well  be  guess'd  at  by  his  wat'ry  eyes. 
Soijie  things  are  of  that  nature,  as  to  make 
One's  fanc}'  chuckle,  while  his  heart  doth  ache  • 
When  Jacob  saw  his  Rachel  ^vith  the  sheep, 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

WTiereas  some  sajs  A  cloud  is  in  his  head ; 
That  doth  but  show  his  wisdom's  covered 
With  his  own  mantle — and  to  stir  the  mind 
To  search  well  after  what  it  fain  would  find, 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  in  words  obscure 
Do  but  the  godly  mind  the  more  allure 
To  study  what  those  sa\Tngs  should  contain 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  cloudy  strain. 
I  also  know  a  dark  similitude 
WiU  on  the  curioroj  fancy  more  intrude. 
And  will  stick  fal&tfer  in  the  heart  and  head 
Than  things  from  similes  not  borrowed. 

WTierefore,  my  Book,  let  no  discouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels.     Behold  I  thou  art  sent 
To  friends,  not  foes  ;  to  friends  that  will  give  pi  a 
To  thee,  thy  Pilgrims,  and  thy  words  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  first  Pilgrim  left  conceal'd. 
Thou,  my  brave  second  Pilgrim,  hast  reveal'd  : 
What  Christian  left  lock'd  up,  and  went  his  way. 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  key. 


OF    HIS    SECOXfD    FA&T.  3&7 

OBJECTION.    IV. 

But  some  love  not  the  method  of  your  first :    " 
Romance  they  count  it;  throw't  away  as  dust. 
[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  lo\'ing  wise  them  greet ; 
Render  them  not  reviling  for  re\ile. 
But,  if  they  fro\^-n,  I  pr'ythee  on  them  smile : 
Perhaps  'tis  nature,  or  some  ill  report, 
Has  made  them  thus  despise,  or  thus  retort. 

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

Go  then,  my  little  book,  and  show  to  all 

That  entertain,  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall. 

What  thou  shalt  keep  close  shut  up  from  the  rest ; 

And  wish  what  thou  shalt  show  them  may  be  bless'd 

To  them  for  good,  and  make  them  choose  to  be 

Pilgrims,  by  better  far  than  thee  or  me. 
Pil.  Projrress.         "  17 


268  THE  author's  account 

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

Go,  also,  tell  them  who  and  what  they  be 
That  now  do  go  on  pilgrimage  with  thee ; 
Say,  Here's  my  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  doating  sinners  to  his  rod, 
'Tis  like  those  days  wherein  the  young  ones  cry'd 
Hosanna!  when  the  old  ones  did  deride. 

Next  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  whom  you  found. 
With  his  white  hairs  treading  the  Pilgrim's  ground  ; 
Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was ; 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bare  the  cross. 
Perhaps  with  some  gray  head  this  may  prevail 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  love,  and  sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also,  how  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  spiril  . 
He  is  a  good  man,  and  doth  life  inherit. 


OF    HIS    SECOND    PART.  259 

Tell  them  of  Master  Feeble-mind  also, 
Who  not  beCire,  but  still  behind  would  go. 
Show  them  iflso,  how  he  had  like  been  slain, 
And  how  ouv  Great-Heart  did  his  life  regain. 
This  man  ^\  as  true  of  heart ;  though  weak  in  grace 
One  might  true  godhness  read  in  his  face. 

Then  tell  ^hem  of  Master  Ready-to-Halt, 
A  man  with  crutches,  but  much  without  fault. 
Tell  them  h^'W  Master  Feeble-Mind  and  he 
Did  love,  an.  I  in  opinion  much  agree. 
And  let  all  k)iow,  though  weakness  was  their  chance- 
Yet  sometimes  one  could  sing,  the  other  dance 

Forget  not  Master  Valiant-for-the-Truth, 
That  man  of  courage,  though  a  very  youth  : 
Tell  every  one  his  spirit  was  so  stout. 
No  man  could  ever  make  him  face  about ; 
And  how  Great-Heart  and  he  could  not  forbear 
But  pull  doA/n  Doubting  Castle,  slay  Despair  ! 

Overlook  "iOt  Master  Despondency, 
Nor  much  afraid  his  daughter,  though  they  lie 
Under  such  mantles,  as  may  make  them  look 
(With  some)  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 
They  softly  went,  but  sure ;  and,  at  the  end. 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  Pilgrims  was  their  friend. 
When  thou  hast  told  the  world  of  all  these  things, 
Then  turn  about,  my  Book,  and  touch  these  strings  x 
Wliich,  if  bit  touched,  will  such  music  make. 
They'll  make  a  cripple  dance,  a  giant  quake. 


260  PRErACE    TO    SECOND    PART. 

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

Now  may  this  little  Book  a  blessing  be 
To  those  who  love  this  little  Book  and  me  : 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say, 
His  money  is  but  lost  or  thrown  away. 
Yea,  may  this  second  Pilgrim  yield  that  fruit 
As  may  with  each  good  Pilgrim's  fancy  suit ; 
And  may  it  some  persuade,  that  go  astray, 
To  turn  their  feet  and  heart  to  the  right  way, 

Is  the  hearty  prayer  of 

The  Author, 

John  Bunyan. 


THE 


PILGRIM'S    PROGRESS, 


IN  THE  SBELITUDE  OF  A  DREAiL 


PART   II. 


Courteous  Companions, 

Some  time  since,  to  tell  you  my  dream  that  T 
fiad  of  Christian  the  pilgrim,  and  of  his  dangerous 
ourney  toward  the  celestial  country,  was  pleasant 
o  me  and  profitable  to  you.  I  told  you  then  also 
A^hat  I  saw  concerning  his  wife  and  children,  and 
low  unwilling  they  were  to  go  with  him  on  pil- 
grimage ;  insomuch  that  he  was  forced  to  go  on  his 
progress  without  them  ;  for  he  durst  not  run  the 
langer  of  that  destruction  which  he  feared  would 
Dome  by  staying  with  them  in  the  City  of  De- 
itruction  :  wherefore,  as  1  then  showed  you,  he  left 
hem  and  departed. 

Now  it  hath  so  happened,  through  the  multipli- 
ity  of  business,  that  I  have  been  much  hindered 
ind  kept  back  from  nay  wonted  travels  into  those 
[)arts  whence  he  went,  and  so  could  not,  till  now, 
)btain  an  opportunity  to  make  further  inquiry  after 
;h€)se  whom  he  left  behind,  that  I  might  give  you 
m  account  of  them.    But  having  had  some  con- 


262  MR     SAGACITY. 

ceras  that  way  of  late,  I  went  dov/n  again  thither- 
ward. Now  having  taken  up  my  lodging  in  a 
wood  about  a  mile  off  the  placy,  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  travel- 
ling, methought  I  got  up  and  went  with  him.  So 
as  we  walked,  and  as  travellers  usually  do,  I  was  as 
if  we  fell  into  a  discourse ;  and  our  talk  happened 
to  be  about  Christian  and  his  travels  ;  for  thus  I 
began  with  the  old  man  : 

Sir,  said  T,  what  town  is  that  there  below,  that 
lieth  on  the  left  hand  of  our  way  1 

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.  , 

I  thought  that  was  that  city,  quoth  I ;  I  went 
once  myself  through  that  town ;  and  therefor© 
know  that  this  report  you  give  of  ii"  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  perce;ve  you  to  be  a 
veil-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  of  this  town,  (whose  name  was  Christian,) 
that  went  on  a  pilgrimage  up  toward  the  higbei 
regions  1 


HAPPINESS    OF    CHRISTIAN.  2G3 

Sag.  Hear  of  him !  Ay,  and  I  also  heard  of 
the  molestations,  troubles,  wars,  captivities,  cries, 
groans,  frights,  and  fears,  that  he  met  with  and 
had  on  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  Lmay  say  that  his  hazardous  journey 
has  got  many  well-wishers  to  his  ways  ;  for,  though 
when  he  was  here  he  was  fool  in  every  man's 
mouth,  yet  now  lie  is  gone  he  is  highly 
commended  of  all.  For  'tis  said  he  are  well  TpoS 
lives  bravely  where  he  is :  yea,  many  of  ?ho' called S 
them  that  are  resolved  never  to  run   7"^'^^  ^^^^y  ^® 

nere. 

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  in  the  Fountain  of 

life,  and  has  what  he  has  without  labor  and  sorrow, 

for  there  is  no  grief  mixed  therewith.    But,  pray 

I  what  talk  have  the  people  about  him  1 

I      Sag.    Talk !    the  people  talk   strangely  about 

;  him  :  some  say  that  he  now  walks  in  white,  Rev. 

!  3  :  4 ;  that  he  has  a  chain  of  gold  about  his  neck  ; 

;  that  he  has  a  crown  of  gold,  beset  with  pearls, 

I  upon  his  head  :  others  say,  that  the  shining  ones, 

who  sometimes  showed  themselves  to  him  in  his 

journey,  are  become  his  companions,  and  that  he 

18  as  familiar  wdth  them  in  the  place  where  he  is 


264  HAPPINESS    OF    CHRISTIAN.  j 

as  here  one  neighbor  is  with  another.    Besidt },  it  i 
is  confidently  affirmed  concerning  liim,   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  favors  of  him  that  is  Judge  of  all  , 
there.  Zech.  3:7;   Luke,  14  :  14,  15.    Moreover,  j 
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  pilgi'im.  Jude,  14,  15. 

For  they  say  that  now  he  is  so  in  the  affections 
-,  .  .    ,     of  his  Prince,  that  his  Sovereign  is  so  i 

Cnnstian  s  '  o  j 

King  will  take   mucli  Concerned   with  the   indig-nities  1 

Christian's  part.  r-^^     •  °  i 

that  were  cast  upon  Christian  when  he 
became  a  pilgrim,  that  he  will  look  upon  all  as  if 
done  unto  himself;  Luke,  10  :  16  ;  and  no  marvel, 
for  it  was  for  the  love  that  he  had  to  his  Prince 
that  he  ventured  as  he  did. 

I  dare  say,  quoth  I,  I  am  glad  on't ;   I  am  glad  j 
for  the  poor  man's  sake,  for  that  now  he  has  rest  J 
from  his  labor,  and  for  that  he  now  reapeth  the  be- 
nefit of  his  tears  with  joy  ;  and  for  that  he  has  gotj 
beyond  the  gun-shot  of  his  enemies,  and  is  out  oti 
the  reach  of  them  that  hate  him.  Rev.  14:   13  ;i 
Psalm  126  :  5,  6.    I  also  am  glad  for  that  a  rumoi 
of  these  things  is  noised  abroad  in  this  country; 


CHRISTIANA    AND    SONS.  265 

who  can  tell  but  that  it  may  work  some  good  effecli 
on  some  that  are  left  behind  ]  But,  pray,  sir,  while 
it  is  fi'esh  in  my  mind,  do  you  hear  any  thing  of  his 
wife  and  children?  Poor  hearts  !  I  wonder  in  my 
mind  what  they  do. 

Sag.  Who  ]  Christiana  and  her  sons  ]  They  arc 
like  to  do  as  well  as  Chnstian  did  him-    ^    ,  .,. 

Good  tidmgs  of 

self:    for  though  thev  all  played  the    christian's  wife 

'  1  111.  and  children. 

tool  at  first,  and  would  by  no  means 
be  persuaded  by  either  the  tears  or  entreaties  of 
Christian,    yet    second    thoughts    have    wrought 
wonderfully  with  them  :  so  they  have  packed  up, 
and  are  also  gone  after  him. 

Better  and  better,  quoth  I :  but,  what !  wife  and 
children,  and  all  ] 

Sag.  It  is  true :  I  can  give  you  an  account  of 
the  matter,  for  I  was  upon  tlic  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  affii-m  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  considerable  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,)  after  her  husband  was  gone  over 


26G  CHRISTIANA'S    MOANINGS. 

the  river,  and  she  could  hear  of  him  no  more,  her 
thoughts  began  to  work  in  her  mind.    First,  for 
that  she  had  lost  her  husband,    and  for  that  the 
loving  bond  of  that  relation  was  utterly  broken  be- 
twixt 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  relations.     This,  therefore,  of 
thai\ii4  ciiuri^   her  husband  did  cost  her  many  a  tear. 
reiaik.ns.  ^""^^^    ^ut  this  was  Tiot  all ;  for  Christiana 
did  also  begin  to  consider  with  herself, 
whether  her  unbecoming  behavior  toward  her  hus- 
band was  not  one  cause  that  she  saw  him  no  more, 
and  that  in  such  sort  he  was  taken  away  from  her. 
And  upon  this  came  into  her  mind,  by  swarms,  all 
her  unkind,  unnatural,  and  ungodly  carriage  to  her 
dear  friend ;   which  also  clogged  her  conscience, 
and  did  load  her  with  guilt.     She  was,  moreover, 
much  broken  with  recalling  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  persuasions  ol 
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 ;  especially  that  bitter  outcry  of  his,  "  What 
shall  I  do  to  be  saved  V  did  rintj  in  her  ears  most 
dolefully. 


o 


CHRISTIANA'S    DISCOURSE.  267 

Then  said  she  to  her  children,  Sons,  we  are  all 
undone.  1  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  hindered  you  of 
life.  With  that  the  boys  fell  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  it  is  like  to 
do  now.  For,  though  I  formerly  foolishly  imagin- 
ed, concerning  the  troubles  of  your  father,  that  they 
proceeded  of  a  foolish  fancy  that  he  had,  or  for  that 
he  was  overrun  with  melancholy  humors  ;  yet  now 
it  will  not  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  they  sprang 
from  another  cause  ;  to  wit,  for  that  the  light  of  life 
was  given  him ;  James,  1  :  23-25 ;  John,  8  :  12  ; 
by  the  help  of  which,  as  I  perceive,  he  has  escap- 
ed the  snares  of  death.  Prov.  14  :  27.  Then  they 
all  wept  again,  and  cried  out.  Oh  !  wo  worth  the 
day! 

The  next  night  Christiana  had  a  dream ;  and, 
behold,  she  saw  as  if  a  broad  parch-  Christiana's 
ment  was  opened  before  her,  in  which  dream. 
were  recorded  the  sum  of  her  ways  ;  and  the 
crimes,  as  she  thought,  looked  very  black  upon  her. 
Then  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her  sleep,  "  Lord, 
liave  mercy  upon  me,  a  sinner!"  Luke,  18  :  13; 
and  the  little  children  heard  her. 

After  this  she  thought  she  saw  two  very  ill-fa- 
vored ones  standing  by  her  bed-side,  and  saying, 
What  shall  we  do  with  this  woman  1  for  she  cries 


268  CHRISTIANA'S    DREAM. 

Mark  this :  this  out  for  mercy,  waking  and  sleeping ; 
sence  of  heu^^  if  she  be  Suffered  to  go  on  as  she  be- 
gins, 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,  but  she  will  become  a  pilgi-im. 

Now  she  awoke  in  a  great  sweat ;  also  a  trem- 
bling was  upon  her ;  but  after  a  while  she  fell  to 
sleeping  again.  And  then  she  thought  she  saw 
Help  against  dis-  Christian  her  husband  in  a  place  of 
couragement.  j^j'gg  among  many  immortals,  with  a 
harp  in  his  hand,  standing  and  playing  upon  it  be- 
fore One  that  sat  on  a  throne  with  a  rainbow  about 
his  head.  She  saw  also,  as  if  he  bowed  his  head 
with  his  face  to  the  paved  work  that  was  under  his 
Prince's  feet,  saying,  ''  I  heartily  thank  my  Lord 
and  King  for  bringing  me  into  this  place."  Then 
shouted  a  company  of  them  that  stood  round  about, 
and  harped  with  their  harps ;  but  no  man  living 
could  tell  what  they  said  but  Christian  and  his 
companions. 

Next  morning,  when  she  was  up,  had  prayed 
to  God,  and  talked  with  her  children  awhile,  one 
knocked  hard  at  the  door ;  to  whom  she  spake  out, 
saying,  "  If  thou  comest  in  God's  name,  come  in." 
So  he  said,  *'Amen;"  and  opened  the  door,  and 
saluted  her  with,  "  Peace  be  to  this  house."  The 
which  when  he  had  done,  he  said,  **  Christiana, 
knowest  thou  wherefore  I  am  come  V     Then  she 


THE    VISIT    OF   SECRET.  269 

blushed  and  trembled ;  also  her  heart  began  to  waix 
warm  vnth  desires  to  know  from  whence  he  came, 
and  what  was  his  en'and  to  her.  So  he  said  unto 
her,  "  My  name  is  Secret;  I  dwell  with  those  that 
are  on  high.  It  is  talked  of  where  I  dwell  as  if 
ihou  hadst  a  desire  to  go  thither :  also  there  is  a 
report  that  thou  art  aware  of  the  evil   „      .  . 

1  1  r-  IT  Convictions  sc- 

thou  hast  formerly  done   to  thy  hus-   condcd  by  ti- 

,-,.,,.  r>    1       1  •  din<:s  of  God's 

band,  m  hardening  ol  thy  heart  against  readiness  to 
his  way,  and  in  keeping  of  these  babes 
in  their  ignorance.  Christiana,  the  Merciful  One  hath 
sent  me  to  tell  thee,  that  he  is  a  God  ready  to  for- 
give, and  that  he  taketh  delight  to  multiply  the 
pardon  of  offences.  He  also  would  have  thee  to 
know,  that  he  inviteth  thee  to  come  into  his  pre- 
sence, to  his  table,  and  that  he  will  feed  thee  with 
the  fat  of  his  house,  and  with  the  heritage  of  Ja- 
cob 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  all  be  glad  when  they  shall  hear  the  sound  of 
thy  feet  step  over  thy  Father's  threshold." 

Christiana  at  this  was  gi-eatly  abashed  in  herself, 
and  bowed  her  head  to  the  gi'ound.  This  visiter 
proceeded  and  said,  "  Chiistiana,  here  is  also  a 
letter  for  thee,  which  I  have  brought  from  thy  hus- 
band's King."  So  she  took  it,  and  opened  it,  but 
it  smelt  after  the  manner  of  the  best  perfume. 
Cant  1:3.    Also  it  was  written  in  letters  of  gold. 


270  THE   A'lSlT    OF   SECRET. 

The  contents  of  the  letter  were  these,  That  the 
King  would  have  her  to  do  as  did  Christian  her 
husband ;  for  that  was  the  way  to  come  to  his  City 
ciirisciiuia  quite    ^nd  to  dwell  in  his  presence  with  joy 

overcome.  f^^.     ^^^^j,       J^^     j^^Jg    ^Jjg    ^^^^    WOmai) 

was  quite  overcome ;  so  she  cried  out  to  her  vis 
iter,  Sir,  will  you  cany  me  and  my  children  with 
you,  that  we  also  may  go  and  worship  the  King  ] 
Then  said  the  visiter,  Christiana,  the  bitter  is 
before  the  sweet.  Thou  must  through  troubles, 
83  did  he  that  went  before  thee,  enter  this  Celes- 
tial  City.  Wherefore  I  advise  thee  to 
tion's  to  chiisti-  do  as  did  Christian  thy  husband;  go 
^^'  to    the  wicket-gate   yonder,  over  the 

plain,  for  that  stands  at  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  heart ;  for  it 
is  one  of  the  songs  that  thou  must  sing  while  thou 
art  in  this  house  of  thy  pilgrimage ;  Psalm  1 19  :  54  ; 
also  this  thou  must  deliver  in  at  the  further  gate. 
Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  this  old  gentleman, 
as  he  told  me  the  story,  did  himself  seem  to  be 
greatly  affected  therewith.  He  moreover  proceed- 
ed, and  said  :  So  Christiana  called  her  sons  togeth- 
er, and  bec^an  thus  to  address  herself 

Chnsdana  prays  t»  t 

her  sons  to  take    uuto  them  :   **  My  SOUS,  1  have,  as  you 

may  perceive,  been  of  late  under  much 

exercise  in  my  soul  about  the  death  of  your  father : 


SHE    INVITES    HER   SONS.  271 

not  for  tliat  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  mise- 
rable. My  carriage  also  to  your  father  in  his  dis- 
tress is  a  great  load  to  my  conscience ;  for  I  har- 
dened both  mine  own  heart  and  yours  against  him, 
and  refused  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrimage. 

The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now  kill  me 
outright,  but  that  for  a  dream  which  I  had  last 
night,  and  but  that  for  the  encouragement  which 
this  strano^er  has  tnven  me  this  mornino^.  Come, 
my  children,  let  us  pack  up  and  be  gone  to  the 
gate  that  leads  to  the  celestial  country,  that  we 
may  see  your  father,  and  be  with  him  and  his 
companions  in  peace,  according  to  the  laws  oi 
that  land. 

Then  did  her  children  burst  out  into  tears,  for 
joy  that  the  heart  of  their  mother  was  so  inclined. 
So  their  visiter  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  women  that  were  Chiistiana's      ^.  , 

Timorous    and 

neio^hbors  came  up  to  her  house,  and    Mercy  come  to 

111  T  rr.  "^^^^     Chriidana. 

knocked  at  her  door.     To  whom  she 

said  as  before,  If  you  come  in  God's  name,  como 

in.   At  this  the  women  were  stunned  :    ^^  .  .     , 

'     Christianas   new 

for  this  kind  of  lansua^e  they  used   lanL^ia-e     stuns 

,  °       ^.  •'     T  heroldneichbors. 

not  to   hear,  or  to  perceive  to  drop 

from  the  lips  of  Christiana.  Yet  they  came  in  :  but 


272  TIMOROUS    AND    MERCY. 

behold,  they  f(;und  the  good  woman  preparing  to 
be  gone  from  her  house. 

So  they  beg&,n,  and  said,  Neighbor,  pray  what  is 
your  meaiJng  by  this  1 

Christiana  answered  and  said  to  the  eldest  of 
them,  whose-  name  was  Mrs.  Timorous,  I  am  pre- 
paring for  a  journey. 

This  Timorous  was  daughter  to  him  that  met 
Christian  upon  the  Hill  of  Difficulty,  and  would 
have  had  him  go  back  for  fear  of  the  lions. 

Tim.  For  what  journey,  I  pray  you? 

Chr.  Even  to  go  after  my  good  husband.  And 
with  that  she  fell  a  weeping. 

Tim.  I  hope  not  so,  good  neighbor;  pray,  for 
your  poor  childien's  sake,  do  not  so  unwomanly 
cast  away  yourself. 

Chr.  Nay,  my  children  shall  go  with  me;  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 ! 

Chr.  O  neighbor !  knew  you  but  as  much  as 
I  do,  I  doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go  along 
with  me. 

Tim.  Pr'ythee,  what  new  knowledge  hast  thou 
got  that  so  worketh  off  thy  mind  from  thy  friends, 
and  that  tempteth  thee  to  go  nobody  knows  where  ] 

Chr.   Then   Christiana    replied,   1    have    been 

sorely  afflicted  since  my  husband's  departure  from 

me ;  but  specially  since  he  went  over 

the  river.  But  that  which  troubleth  me 


DISCOURSE    OF    CHRISTIANA.  273 

most  is,  my  churlish  carriage  to  him  when  he  was 
under  his  distress.  Besides,  I  am  now  as  he  was 
then  ;  nothing  will  serve  me  but  going  on  pilgrim- 
age. I  was  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  com- 
panion of  immortals,  and  has  a  house  now  given 
him  to  dwell  in,  to  which  the  best  palace  on  earth, 
if  compared,  seems  to  me  but  as  a  dunghill.  2  Cor. 
5  :  1-4.  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  plucked  out  her  letter, 
and  read  it,  and  said  to  them,  What  now  will  you 
say  to  this  1 

Tim.  Oh,  the  madness  that  has  possessed  thee 
and  thy  husband,  to  run  yourselves  upon  such  dif- 
ficulties !  You  have  heard,  I  am  sure,  what  your 
husband  did  meet  with,  even  in  a  manner  at  the 
first  step  that  he  took  on  his  way,  as  our  neighbor 
Obstinate  can  yet  testify,  for  he  went  along  with 
him;  yea,  and  Pliable  too,  until  they,  like  wise 
men,  were  afraid  to  go  any  further.  We  also  heard, 
over  and  above,  how  he  met  with  the  The  reasonings 
'  lions,  Apallyon,  the  Shadow  of  Death,  °^'^^  ^^'^■ 
'  and  many  other  things.  Nor  is  the  danger  that  he 
met  with  at  Vanity  Fair  to  be  forgotten  by  thee. 
For  if  he,  though  a  man,  was  so  hard  put  to  it, 

Pfl.  Progress.  JCt 


274  DISCOUB.SE    OF    TIMOROUS. 

what  canst  thou,  being  but  a  poor  woman,  dol 
Consider  also,  that  these  lour  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  body, 
keep  thou  at  home. 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  Tempt  me  not,  my 
neighbor :  I  have  now  a  price  put  into  my  hands 
to  get  gain,  and  I  should  be  a  fool  of  the  gieatesl 
size  if  I  should  have  no  heart  to  strike  in  with  the 
opportunity.  And  for  that  you  tell  me  of  all  these 
troubles  which  I  am  like  to  meet  with 

A  pertinent  re- 
ply  to   fleshly    in  the  way,  they  are  so  far  from  being 

reasoning.  /'  -^  ^ 

to  me  a  discouragement,  that  they  show 
I  am  in  the  right.  The  bitter  must  come  before 
the  sweet,  and  that  also  will  make  the  sweet  the 
sweeter.  Wherefore,  since  you  came  not  to  my 
house  in  God's  name,  as  I  said,  I  pray  you  to  be 
gone,  and  not  to  disquiet  me  further. 

Then  Timorous  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her  fal- 
low, Come,  neighbor  Mercy,  let  us  leave  hei  in  her 
own  hands,  since  she  scorns  our  counsel  and  com* 
pany.  But  Mercy  was  at  a  stand ;  and  could  not 
Merc  'a  bow  ^^  readily  comply  with  her  neighbor ; 
els  yearn  over   a,nd  that  for  a  two-fold  reason.   1.  Her 

Cnnstiana.  ^       .     . 

bowels  yearned  over  Chnstiana.  So 
she  said  within  herself.  If  my  neighbor  will  needs 
be  gone,  I  will  go  a  little  way  with  her  and  help 
her.  2.  Her  bowels  yearned  over  her  own  soul ; 
for  what  Christiana  had  said  had  taken  some  hold 


MERCY    AND    CHRISTIANA.  275 

upon  her  mind.  Wherefore  she  said  within  herself 
again,  I  will  yet  have  more  talk  with  this  Christia- 
na; and,  if  I  fiad  truth  and  life  in  what  she  shall 
say,  I  myself  with  my  heart  shall  also  go  witli 
her.  Wherefore  Mercy  began  thus  to  reply  to  her 
neighbor  Timorous  : 

Mer.  Neighbor,  I  did  indeed  come  with  you  to 
see  Christiana  this  morning ;  and,  since  she  is,  as 
you  see,  taking  her  last  farewell  of  the  country, 
I  think  to  walk  this  sun-shiny  morning  a  little  with 
her,  to  help  her  on  her  way.  But  she  told  her  not 
of  her  second  reason,  but  kept  it  to  herself 

Tim.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a  fool- 
ing too  ;  but  t  ake  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  herself  to  her  jour-     Timorous  for- 

-o    4.         1  T-i-  ,     sakes  her,  but 

ney.      nut     when      limorOUS     was     got    Mercy    cleaves 

home  to  her  house  .she  sends  for  some   ^^  ^^'■• 
of  her  neighbors,  to  wit,   Mrs.   Bat's-Eyes,   INIrs. 
Inconsiderate,  jMrs.  Light-Mind,  and  Mrs.  Know- 
j\othinff.    So  when  they  were  come  to  ^ 

her  house,  she  ialls  to  tellinor  of  the  sto-  acquaints    hor 

.  IP,.  11    friends  what  the 

ly  ot  Christiana,  and  oi  her  intended  good  christiiuia 

•       1    -  11  1         ,    T         intends  to  do. 

journey.    And  tUus  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 
it  is  our  custom ;    and  she  answered,  If  you  come 


27G  MRS.   INCONSIDERATE. 

in  God*s  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  shprt,  that  she  was 
now  of  a  mind  to  go  on  pilgrimage,  as  did  her  hus- 
band. She  told  me  also  of  a  dream  that  she  had, 
and  how  the  King  of  the  country  where  her  hus- 
band was  had  sent  an  inviting  letter  to  come  thither. 
Mrs.  Know-No-  Then  Said  Mrs.  Know-Nothing,  And 
thing.  what !   do  you  think  she  will  go  ] 

Tim.  Ay,  go  she  will,  whatever  comes  on't ; 
and  methinks  I  know  it  by  this ;  for  that  which 
was  my  great  argument  to  persuade  her  to  stay  at 
home  (to  wit,  the  troubles  she  was  like  to  meet 
with  on  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  doth,  it  makes 
the  sweet  the  sweeter. 

Mrs.  Bat's-Eyes.  Oh,  this  blind  and  foolish 
woman !  said  she ;  and  will  she  not 
take  warning  by  her  husband's  afflic- 
tions ]  for  my  part,  I  see  if  he  were  here  again  he 
would  rest  himself  content  in  a  whole  skin,  and 
never  run  so  many  hazards  for  nothing. 

Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  saying.  Away 

Mrs.  incon.    with   sucli  fantastical    fools    from  the 

siderate.      town  !    a  good  riddance,  for  my  part, 

I  say,  of  her !  should  she  stay  where  she  dwells, 


MERCY    AND    C3IRISTIANA.  277 

and  retain  this  her  mind,  who  could  live  quietly  by 
her  1  for  she  will  either  be  dumpish,  or  unneigh- 
borly,  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  :  it  was  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    Mrs.  Light  Mind, 
was  yesterday  at  Madam  Wanton's,    ^adamWant 
where  we  were  as  merry  as  the  maids,    she  that  had  like 

1  •    1      1        1  1  1        1  ^°  haye  been  too 

For  who  do  you  thmk  should  be  there  hard  for  Faith- 
but  I  and  Mrs.  Love-the-Flesh,  and  ^  ^  ^^ 
three  or  four  more,  with  IMrs.  Lechery,  Mrs.  Filth, 
and  some  others  :  so  there  we  had  music  and  danc- 
ing, and  what  else  was  meet  to  fill  up  the  plea- 
sure. And  I  dare  say,  my  lady  herself  is  an  ad- 
mirable well-bred  gentlewoman,  and  Mr.  Lechery 
is  as  pretty  a  fellow. 


==^®#d<^ 


^{)c  SixQt  Stage, 


By  this  time  Christiana  was  got  on  her  way,  and 
Mercy  went  along  with  her :  so  as  they  went,  her 
children  being  there   also,   Christiana  Discourse 

began  to  discourse.    And,  Mercy,  said   and  good cSis- 
Christiana,  I  take  this  as  an  unexpected 


278  MERCY    AND    CHRISTIANA. 

favor,  that  thou  shouldest  set  forth  out  of  dooij 
with  me  to  accompany  me  a  little  in  the  way. 
Mer.  Then  said  young  Mercy,  {for  she  was  but 

Mercy  inclines     JOUng,)     If  I    thought    it    WOuld    be    t' > 

to  go.  purpose  to  go  with  you,  I  would  never 
go  near  the  town  any  more. 

Chr.  Well,  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  cast  in  thy 
lot  with  me  :  I  well  know  what  will  be  the  end 
of  our  pilgrimage  :  my  husband  is  where  he  would 
not  but  be  for  all  the  -gold  in  the  Spanish  mines. 
Nor  shalt  thou  be  rejected,  though  thou  goest  but 
upon  my  invitation.  The  King,  who  hath  sent  for 
me  and  my  children,  is  one  that  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. 

Mer.  But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I  also 
Mercy  doubts    sbould    be   entertained?    Had    I    this 

of  acceptance,      j^^pg     ^^^    ^,q^    ^^^q    jj^^t     can     tell,     I 

would  make  no  stick  at  all,  but  would  go,  being 
helped  by  Him  that  can  help,  though  the  way  was 
never  so  tedious. 

Chr.  Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee  wlic' 
thou  shalt  do;  go  with  me  to  tliB  Wicket-Gate, 
and  there  I  will  further  inquire  for 
larTs'S-To'tS  thee;  and  if  there  'hou  shalt  no 
ciirist^andpro-  ^^^^  with  encouragement,  I  will  b. 
mises 'there  to    content  that  thou  return  to  thy  place  ; 

mquiro  for  her.  .     i 

I  will  also  pay  thee  for  thy  kmdness 


I 


MERCY    ENCOURAGED.  279 

which  thou  showest  to  me  and  my  children  in  the 
accompanying  of  us  in  our  way  as  thou  dost. 

Mer.   Then  will  I   go  thither,  and   will  take 
what  shall  follow  ;  and  the  Lord  ffrant 

'  '^  Mercy  prays. 

that  my  lot  may  there  fall,  even  as  the 

King  of  heaven  shall  have  his  heart  upon  me. 

Christiana  then  was  glad  at  heart :  not  only  that 
she  had  a  companion  :  but  also  for  that   ^,  ■ .  .       ,  , 

"  '  Christiana  glad 

she  had  prevailed  with  this  poor  maid   of  Mercy's  com- 

.  .  .  pany. 

to  fall  in  love  with  her  own  salvation. 
So  they  went  on  together,  and  Mercy  began   to 
weep.    Then  said  Christiana,  Wherefore  weepeth 
my  sister  so  1 

Mer.  Alas  !   said  she,  who  can  but  lament,  that 
shall  but  rl(rhtlv  consider  what  a  state     .. 

^     <=»       •'  _  Mercy  grieves 

and  condition  my  poor    relations  are   for  her  camai 

,  .       .      ■  .    c  ,  rt    relauons. 

m  that  yet  remam  m  our  smlul  town  J 
And  that  which  makes  my  grief  the  more  heavy  is, 
because  they  have  no   instructor,  nor  any  to  tell 
them  what  is  to  come. 

Chr.  Pity  becomes  pilgrims ;  and  thou  dost 
weep  for  thy  friends,  as  my  good  Christian  did  for 
me  when  he  left  me  :  he  mourned  for  that  I  would 
not  heed  nor  regard  him ;  but  his 
Lord  and  ours  did  gather  up  his  tears,  prayerswele 
and  put  them  into  his  bottle ;  and  now  his'Te'iafiona 
both  I  and  thou,  and  these,  my  sweet  f^^""  "^^ 
babes,  are  reaping  the  fruit  and  benefit 
of  them.  ,  I  hope,  Mercy,  that  these  tears  of  thino 
will  not  be  lost ;  for  the  truth  hath  said,  that  **  they 


280  SLOUGH    OF    DESPOND. 

that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap  in  joy."   And  "  he  that 
goeth  forth  and  weepeth,  bearing  precious  seed, 
shall  doubtless  come  again  with  rejoicing,  bringing 
his  sheaves  with  him."  Psalm  126  :  5,  6. 
Then  said  Mercy, 

Let  the  Most  Blessed  be  my  guide. 

If  it  be  his  blessed  will, 
Untc  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  ways 

Whate'er  shall  me  betide. 

And  let  him  gather  them  of  mme 

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  Christiana  came  to  the  Slough  of  Despond 
she  began  to  be  at  a  stand  ;  For,  said  she,  this  is 
the  place  in  which  my  dear  husband  had  like  to  have 
been  smothered  with  mud.  She  perceived,  also, 
that  notwithstanding  the  command  of  the  King  to 
make  this  place  for  pilgrims  good,  yet  it  was  rather 
worse  than  formerly.  So  I  asked  if  that  was  true. 
Yes,  said  the  old  gentleman,  too  true  ;  for  many 
riieir  own  car-  there  be  that  pretend  to  be  the  King's 
StSaS'^S-'r  laborers,  and  that  say  they,  are  for 
word  of  life.      mending   the    King's    highways,   who 


ARRIVAL    AT    THE    GATE.  281 

bring  dirt  and  dung  instead  of  stones,  and  so  mar  in- 
stead of  mending.  Here  Christiana  therefore,  with 
her  boys,  did  make  a  stand.  But  said  Mercy  the 
Mercy^  Come,  let  us  venture,  only  let  S^h  o?Des' 
us  be  wary.  Then  they  looked  well  to  ^°^'^' 
their  steps,  and  made  a  shift  to  get  staggering  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  have  been  in,  and 
that  not  once  or  twice.  Now  they  had  no  sooner 
got  over,  but  they  thought  they  heard  words  that 
said  unto  them,  *'  Blessed  is  she  that  believeth, 
for  there  shall  be  a  performance  of  those  things 
which  were  told  her  from  the  Lord."  Luke,  1:45. 

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 
tliink  no  Slough  of  Despond  would  discourage  me. 

Well,  said  the  other,  you  know  your  sore,  and 
T  know  mine ;  and,  good  friend,  we  shall  all  have 
enough  evil  before  we  come  to  our  journey's  end. 
For  can  it  be  imagined  that  the  people  who  design 
to  attain  such  excellent  glories  as  we  do,  and  who 
are  so  envied  that  happiness  as  we  are,  but  that 
we  shall  meet  with  what  fears  and  snares,  with 
what  troubles  and  afflictions  they  can  possibly  as- 
sault us  with  that  hate  us  1 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  dream  out 
my  dream  by  myself.  Wherefore,  methought  I 
saw  Christiana,  and  Mercy,  and  the  boys,  go  all 
of  them  up  to  the  gate :  to  which  when  they 
were   come,  they   betook   themselves   to  a   short 


282  THE    DOG   BARKING. 

Prayer  should  be    debate,  about  how  tliev  must  manage 

made  with  consi-  _  _  ''  *-" 

deration  and  fear,    their  calling  at  the  gate,  and  what 

BB  well  as  in  faith  ,11  -i  i-  i  ti 

and  hope.  should   be    saiQ  unto    mm   that    did 

open  to  them  :  so  it  was  concluded,  since  Christiana 
was  the  eldest,  that  she  should  knock  for  entrance 
and  that  she  should  speak  to  him  that  did  open, 
for  the  rest.  So  Christiana  began  to  knock,  and  as 
her  poor  husband  did,  she  knocked  and  knocked 
again.  But  instead  of  any  that  answered,  they  all 
thought  that  they  heard  as  if  a  dog  came  barking 
upon  them ;  a  dog,  and  a  great  one 
devil,  an  enemy  too  :  D.nd  this  made  the  women  and 
children  afraid.  Nor  durst  they  for  a 
while  to  knock  any  more,  for  fear  the  mastiff 
should  fly  upon  them.  Now  therefore  they  were 
greatly  tumbled  up  and  down  in  their  minds,  and 
Christiana  and  knew  not  what  to  do ;  knock  they  durst 
XiexeSout  not,  for  fear  of  the  dog  ;  go  back  they 
prayer.  durst  not,  for  fear  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 
than  they  did  at  first.  Then  said  the  keeper  of  the 
gate.  Who  is  there  1  So  the  dog  loft  off"  to  bark, 
and  he  opened  unto  them. 

Then  Christiana  made  low  obeisance,  and  said. 
Let  not  our  Lord  be  offended  with  his  hand-maid- 
ens, for  that  we  have  knocked  at  his  princely  gate. 
Then  said  the  keeper,  Whence  come  ye  ]  And 
what  is  it  that  you  would  have  % 


CHRISTIANA    RECEIVED.  283 

Christiana  answered,  We  are  come  fi'om  whence 
Christian  did  come,  and  upon  the  same  errand  as 
he  ;  to  wit,  to  be,  if  it  shall  please  you,  graciously 
admitted  by  this  gate  into  the  way  that  leads  unto 
the  Celestial  City.  And  I  answer,  my  Lord,  in 
the  next  place,  that  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  now  become  a  pilgrim  that 
but   a  while   ao^o   abhorred    that  life]     Then   she 

o 

bowed  her  head,  and  said.  Yea ;  and  so  are  these 
my  sweet  babes  also. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand  and  led  her  in, 
and  said  also,  Suffer  little  children  to   „     „,  .  . 

HowChnstiana 

come  unto  me  ;  and  with  that  he  shut  isenteitainedat 
up  the  gate.  This  done,  he  called  to 
a  trumpeter  that  was  above,  over  the  gate,  to  en- 
tertain Christiana  with  shouting,  and  the  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  with- 
out, trembling  and  crying,  for  fear  that  she  was  re- 
jected. But  when  Christiana  had  got  admittance 
for  herself  and  her  boys,  then  she  began  to  make 
intercession  for  Mercy. 

Chr.  And  she  said,  My  Lord,  T  have  a  com- 
panion of  mine  that  stands  yet  with-  Christiana's 
out,  that  is  come  hither  upon  the  same   prnyer  for  her 

■^  .  triund  Mercy. 

account  as  myself:   one  that  is  much 

dejected  in   her  mind,  for  that  she  comes,  as  she 


284  MERCY    WELCOMED. 

ihinks,  without  sending  for :  whereas  1  was  sent 
for  by  my  husband's  King  to  come. 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be   very  impatient,  and 

Delays  make  each  minute  was  as  long  to  her  as  an 
soul  the^Sorl  hour ;  wherefore  she  prevented  Chris- 
fervent,  tiana  from  a  fuller  interceding  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  1 
And  Christiana  said,  It  is  my  friend. 

So  he  opened  the  gate,  and  looked  out,  but 
Mercy  was  fallen  down  without  in  a 
swoon,  for  she  fainted,  and  was  afraid 
that  no  gate  should  be  opened  to  her. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said,  Dam- 
sel, 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  unto  thee,  into 
thy  holy  temple."  Jonah,  2  :  7.  Fear  not,  but 
stand  upon  thy  feet,  and  tell  me  wherefore  thou 
art  come. 

Mer.  I  am  come  for  that  unto  which  I  was 
never  invited,  as  ray  friend  Christiana  was.  Hers 
was  from  the  King,  and  mine  was  but  from  her. 
Wherefore  T  fear  I  presume. 

Keep.  Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  with  her  to 
this  place  ] 

Mer.  Yes;  and  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come 


'J'lien  he  took  her  by  the  hand." — p.  284. 


MERCY    WELCOMED.  286 

And  if  there  is  any  grace  and  forgiveness  of  sins 
to  spare,  1  beseech  that  thy  poor  handmaid  may 
be  a  partaker  thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  hand,  and  led 
her  gently  in,  and  said,  I  pray  for  all  them  that  be- 
lieve on  me,  by  what  means  soever  they  come  unto 
me.  Then  said  he  to  those  that  stood  by.  Fetch 
something  and  give  it  to  Mercy  to  smell  on, 
thereby  to  stay  her  faintings  :  so  they  fetched  her 
a  bundle  of  myiTh,  and  a  while  after  she  was 
revived. 

And  now  were  Christiana  and  her  boys,  and 
Mercy,  received  of  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  the 
way,  and  spoken  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. 
Song,  i  :  2 ;  John,  20  :  20. 

Now  I  saw  in  ray  dream  that  he  spake  many 
good  words  unto  them,  whereby  they  were  great- 
I  ly  gladdened.  He  also  had  them  up  to  the  top  of 
the  gate,  and  showed  them  by  what  deed  they 
I  were  saved  ;  and  told  them  withal,  that  that  sight 
they  would  have  again  as  they  went  chnst crucified 
along  in  the  way,  to  their  comfort.  '^^''  ^^^  °'^"- 

So  he  I'^ft  them  awhile  in  a  summer  parlor  be- 


286  TALK    OF    THE    CHRISTIANS. 

low,  where  they  entered  into  talk  by  themselves ; 

and   thus    Christiana    began.    O  how 

™^  between   gj^^^j  ^Hi  1  that  we  are  got  in  hither  ! 

Mer.  So  you  well  may;  but  I,  oi 

all,  have  cause  to  leap  for  joy. 

Chr.  I  thought  one  time,  as  I  stood  at  the  gate, 
because  I  had  knocked  and  none  did  answer,  that 
all  our  labor  had  been  lost,  especially  when  that 
ugly  cur  made  such  a  heavy  barking  against  us. 

Mer.  But  my  worst  fear  was  after  I  saw  that 
you  was  taken  into  his  favor,  and  that  I  was  left 
behind.  Now,  thought  I,  it  is  fulfilled  which  is 
vn-itten,  "  Two  women  shall  be  grinding  at  the 
mill ;  the  one  shall  be  taken,  and  the  other  left." 
Matt,  24  :  41.  I  had  much  ado  to  forbear  crying 
out,  Undone !  And  afraid  I  was  to  knock  any 
more ;  but  when  I  looked  up  to  what  was  written 
over  the  gate,  I  took  courage.  I  also  thought  that 
I  must  either  knock  again,  or  die ;  so  I  knocked, 
but  I  cannot  tell  how ;  for  my  spirit  now  strug- 
gled between  life  and  death. 

Chr.  Can  you  not  tell  how  you  knocked]  I 
am  sure  your  knocks  were  so  earnest  that  the 
very  sound  of  them  made  me  start ;  1 
thinks  her  com^  thought  I  uevor  heard  such  knocking 
CS"than^r  in  all  my  life;  I  thought  you  would 
come  in  by  a  violent  hand,  or  take  the 
kingdom  by  storm.  Matt.  11  :  12. 

Mer.  Alas  !  to  be  in  my  case,  who  that  so  wa:S 
could  but  have  done  so  1    You  saw  that  the  door 


TALK    OF    THE    CHRISTIANS.  2S7 

was  shut  upon  me,  and  that  there  was  a  most 
cruel  (log  thereabout.  Who,  I  say,  that  was  so 
faint-hearted  as  I,  would  not  have  knocked  with 
all  their  might  1  But  pray,  what  said  my  Lord  to 
iriy  rudeness  ]    Was  he  not  angiy  with  me  ] 

Chr.  When  he  heard  your  lumbering  noise, 
he  gave  a  wonderful  innocent  smile ;    o,  .  .    ,       , 

C"  '     Cnnst   pleased 

I  believe   what  you   did  pleased  him    with  loud  and 

•^  ■•  .  restless  prayer. 

well,  for  he   showed    no    sign    to  the 

contrary.  But  I  marvel  in  my  heart  why  he  keeps 

Buch  a  dog  :  had  I  known  that  before, 

I  should  not  have  had  heart  enough   flr^t  dTd^know 

to  have  ventured  myself  in  this  man-   meet  with  iriS 

ner.    But  now  we  are  in,  we  are  in,  joumey  to  hea- • 

'  '     ven,    It   would 

and  I  am  orlad  with  all  my  heart.  i^ardiy  ever  set 

^  •'  out. 

Mer.  I  will  ask,  if  you  please,  next 
time  he  comes  down,  why  he  keeps  such  a  filthy 
cur  in  his  yard ;  I  hope  he  will  not  take  it  amiss. 

Do  so,  said  the  children,  and  persuade  him  to 
hang:  him :  for  we  are   afraid  he  will      „, 

o  '  »   The  children 

bite  us  when  we  e:o  hence.  are  afmid    of 

-.  1  1  T  .the  dog. 

k50  at  last  he  came  down  to  them 
again,  and  Mercy  fell  to  the  ground  on  her  face 
before  him,  and  worshipped,  and  said,  "  Let  my 
Lord  accept  the  sacrifice  of  praise  which  I  now 
offer  unto  him  with  the  calves  of  my  lips." 

So  he  said  unto  her,  Peace  be  to  thee ;  stand 
up.  But  she  continued  upon  her  face,  and  said, 
"  Righteous  art  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with 
thee  ;  yet  let  me  talk  with  thee  of  thy  judgments.' 


288  EXPLANATION 

Jer.  12  :  1.    Wherefore  dost  thou  keep  so  cruel 
a  dog  in  thy  yard,  at  the  sight  of  which 

Mercy  expos-  *^    "^  - 

tuiates  about     such  women  and  children  as  we  are 
°^'  ready  to  fly  from  thy  gate  for  fear  1 

He  answered   and  said,   That  dog  has  anolher 
owner ;   he  also  is  kept  close   in  an- 

The  Devil.  ,  '        ,  .        \  ... 

Other  man  s  ground,  only  my  pilgnms 
iiear  his  barking  :  he  belongs  to  the  castle  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  out  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 
come  and  knock  at  this  gate  for  entrance.  Some- 
times also  he  has  broken  out,  and  has  worried 
some  that  I  loved ;  but  I  take  all  at  present  pa- 
tiently. I  also  give  my  pilgrims  timely  help,  so 
that  they  are  not  delivered  to  his  power,  to  do 
with  them  what  his  doggish  nature  would  prompt 
him  to.  But  what,  my  purchased  one,  I  trow, 
hadst  thou  known  never  so  much  beforehand,  thou 
wouldst  not  have  been  afraid  of  a  dog.  The  beg- 
A  check  to  the  g^rs  that  go  from  door  to  door,  will, 
carnal  fear  of  rather  than  lose  a  supposed  alms,  run 

the  hazard  of  the  bawling,  barking, 
and  biting  too  of  a  dog  ,•  and  shall  a  dog,  a  dog  in 
anpther  man's  yard,  a  dog  whose  barking  I  turn 
to  the  profit  of  pilgi'ims.  keep  any  from  coming  to 


CHRISTIANA'S    SONG.  289 

me%  I  deliver  them  from  the  lions,  and  my  darling 
from  the  power  of  the  dog.     Psalm  22  :  21,  22. 
Mer.     Then  said    Mercy,   I   con-    ^^  .  . 

•'  Christians,  when 

fess  my  ignorance :    I  spake  what  1    wise  enough,  ac- 

-^  quiesco    in    the 

understood  not ;   i  acknowledge  that    wisdom  of  their 
thou  doest  all  thins's  well. 

Chr.  Then  Christiana  began  to  talk  of  their 
journey,  and  to  inquire  after  the  way.  So  he  fed 
them,  and  washed  their  feet,  and  set  them  in  the 
way  of  his  steps,  according  as  he  had  dealt  with 
her  husband  before. 


STIje    Qeconh    Stage. 


So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they  walked  on 
their  way,  and  had  the  weather  very  comfortable 
to  them. 

Then  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying, 

Blesa'd  be  the  day  that  I  beg:an 

A  pilgrim  for  to  be ; 
And  blessed  also  be  the  man 

That  thereto  moved  me. 


290  THE  devil's  garden. 

*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) 

Shows  what  our  end  will  be. 

Now  there  was,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall 
tliat  fenced  in  the  way  up  which  Christiana  and 
The  devil's  '^ai-  ^®^  companions  were  to  go,  a  garden, 
^^^-  and  that  garden  belonged  to  him  whose 
was  that  barking  dog,  of  whom  mention  was  made 
before.  And  some  of  the  fruit-trees  that  gi'ew  in 
that  garden  shot  their  branches  over  the  wall ; 
and  being  mellow,  they  that  found  them  did  gather 
them  up,  and  eat  of  them  to  their  hurt.  So  Chris- 
tiana's boys,  as  boys  are  apt  to  do,  being  pleased 
with  the  trees,  and  with  the  ft'uit  that  hung  there- 

The  children     ^"'  ^^^  P^"^^    ^^^^'  ^"^    ^®o^"  ^^  ^^^• 

eat  of  the  ene-  Their  mother  did  also  chide  them  for 
SO  doing,  but  still  the  boys  went  on. 
Well,  said  she,  my  sons,  you  transgi^ess,  for  that 
fruit  is  none  of  ours ;  but  she  did  not  know  that  it 
belonged  to  the  enemy :  I'll  warrant  you  if  she 
had  she  would  have  been  ready  to  die  for  fear. 
But  that  passed,  and  they  went  on  their  way.  Now 
by  that  they  were  gone  about  two  bow-shots  from 
the  place  that  led  them  into  the  way,  they  espied 
two  very  ill-favored  ones  coming  down  apace  to 


TWO    ILL-FAVORED    OXES.  291 

meet  them.  With  that  Christiana  and  Mercy  her 
friend  covered  themselves  with  their  veils,  and  so 
kept  on  their  journey :  the  children  also  went  on 
before  ;  so  that  at  last  they  met  toge-  Two  m-favor- 
ther.  Then  they  that  came  down  to  chSanTana 
meet  them,  came  just  up  to  the  women,  ^^^^'^y- 
as  if  they  would  embrace  them ;  but  Christiana 
said,  Stand  back,  or  go  peaceably  as  you  should. 
Yet  these  two,  as  men  that  are  deaf,  regarded  not 
Christiana's  words,  but  began  to  lay  hands  upon 
them  :  at  that  Christiana  waxing  very  wroth,  spum- 
ed at  them  with  her  feet.  Mercy  also,  as  well  as 
she  could,  did  what  she  could  to  shift  them.  Chris- 
tiana again  said  to  them.  Stand  back,  and  be  gone, 
for  we  have  no  money  to  lose,  being  pilgrims,  as 
you  see,  and  such  too  as  live  upon  the  charity  of 
our  friends. 

Ill-Fav.  Then  said  one  of  the  two  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. 

Chr.  Now  Christiana,  imagining  what  "they 
should  mean,  made  answer  agjain,  We  will  neither 
hear,  nor  regard,  nor  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask. 
We  are  in  haste,  and  cannot  stay ;  our  business  is 
a  business  of  life  and  death.  So  as^ain  she  and  her 
companion  made  a  fresh  essay  to  go  past  them ; 
but  they  letted  them  in  their  way. 

Ill-Fav.  And  they  said.  We  intend  no  hurt  to 


202  THEV    ARE    RESCUED. 

your  lives  ;    it    is  another  thing  we  would   have. 

Chr.  Ay,  quoth  Christiana,  you  would  have  us 

body  and  soul,  for  I  know  it   is  for 

the  cnes  out.  '' 

that  you  are  come  ;  but  we  will  die 
rather  upon  the  spot  than  to  suffer  ourselves  to 
be  brought  into  such  snares  as  shall  hazard  oui 
well-being  hereafter.  And  with  that  they  bolh 
shrieked  out  and  cried.  Murder  !  murder!  and  so 
put  themselves  under  those  laws  that  are  provided 
for  the  protection  of  women.  Deut.  22  :  25-27 
But  the  men  still  made.their  approach  upon  them, 
with  design  to  prevail  against  them.  They  there- 
fore cried  out  again. 

Now,  they  being,  as  1  said,  not  far  from  the  gate 
in  at  which  they  came,  their  voice  was 

It  is  good  to  cry  •' 

out  when  we   heard  fiom  whence  they  were,  thither  f 

are  assaulted.  ^  n  ^      i         i 

wherefore  some  ot  the  house  came 
out,  and  knowing  tirat  it  ^vas  Christiana's  tongue, 
The  Reliever  ^^^J  ^^^^^^  haste  to  her  relief  But  by 
comes.  j-^g^^  l-].jgy  ^vere  got  within  sight  of 
them  the  women  were  in  a  very  gi-eat  scuffle ;  the 
children  also  stood  crying  by.  Then  did  he  that 
came  in  for  their  relief  call  out  to  the  ruffians,  say- 
ing, What  is  that  thing  you  do ;  would  you  make 
my  Lord's  people  to  transgress  %  He  also  at- 
tempted to  take  them,  but  they  did  make  their  es- 
^,    .„        ^     cape  over  the  wall  into  the  erarden  of 

The  ill  ones  fly         -t^  o 

to  the  devil  for   the  man  to  whom  the  erreat  dos"  be- 

relief 

longed ;  so  the  dog  became  their  pro 
tector.    This  reliever  then  came  up  to  the  women, 


THE    RELIEVER.  293 

aud  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,  otherwise  we  had 

been  overcome. 

Relieve R.  So  after  a  few  more  words  this  re- 
liever said  as  followeth :   I  marvelled      „,    „  ,. 

The  Reliever 

much  when  you  were  entertained  at   tsikstothewo 
J  the  gate  above,  seeing  ye  knew  that 
I  ye  were  but  weak  women,  that  you  petitioned  not 

the   Lord  for  a  conductor ;  then  might  you  have 

avoided  these  troubles  and  dangers ;   for  he  would 

have  granted  you  one. 

Chr.  Alas !  said  Christiana,  we  were  so  taken 

with  our  present  blessing^,  that    dan- 

^  /.  ,  Mark  this! 

gers  to  come  were  torgotten  by  us. 
Beside,  who  could  have  thought,  that  so  near  the 
King's  palace  there  could  have  lurked  such  naugh- 
ty ones  ]  Indeed,  it  had  been  well  for  us  had  we 
asked  our  Lord  for  one  ;  but  since  our  Lord  knew 
it  would  be  for  our  profit,  I  wonder  he  sent  not 
one  cilong  with  us. 

Rel.  It  is  not  always  necessary  to  gi-ant  things 
not  asked  for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  weiosefornot 
become  of  little  esteem  ;  but  v/hen  the  ^king. 
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  conductor,  you 
would  not  either  so  have  bewailed  that  oversight 


294  THE    RELIEVER. 

] 

of  yours,  in  not  asking  for  one,  as  now  you  have 
occasion  to  do.  So  all  things  work  for  good,  and 
tend  to  make  you  more  wary. 

Chr.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord,  and 
confess  our  folly,  and  ask  one  1 

Rel.  Your  confession  of  your  folly  I  will  pre- 
sent 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  one  of  my  Lord's 
lodgings,  which  he  has  prepar'^d  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. 
Ezek.  36  :  37.  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.   . 

Mer.  Then  said  Mercy,  What  a  sudden  blank 
The  mistake  of  ^^  here  !     I  made  account  that  we  had 

Mercy.         been    past    all    danger,    and   that    we 
should  never  see  soitow  more. 

Chr.   Thy  innocency,  my  sister,  said  Chnstiana 
Christiana's      ^o  Mercy,  may  excuse  thee  much  ;*  but 
^^^-  as   for  me,  my  fault  is  so   much  the 

greater,  for  that  I  saw  this  danger  before  I  came 
out  of  the  doors,  and  yet  did  not  provide  for  it 
when  provision  might  have  been  had.     I-  am  much  i 
to  be  blamed.  J 

Mer.  Then  said  Mercy,  How  knew  you  this  4f 
before  you  came  from  home  1  Pray  open  to  me  *' 
this  riddle. 


THE    DREAM    REPEATED.  295 

Chr.  Why,  I  will  tell  you.  Before  I  set  foot 
out  of  doors,  one  ni^ht  as  I  lay  in  my  ^,  .  .  . 
bed  I  had  a  dream  about  this  ;  for  me-  dream  repeat- 
thought  I  saw  two  men,  as  like  these 
r.s  ever  any  in  the  world  could  look,  stand  at  my 
bed's  feet,  j^lotthig  how  they  might  prevent  my 
salvation.  I  will  tell  you  their  very  words.  They 
said,  (it  was  when  I  was  in  my  troubles,)  What 
shall  we  do  with  this  woman  1  for  she  ciies  out- 
waking  and  sleeping  for  forgiveness  ;  if  she  be  suf- 
fered to  sfo  on  as  she  bes:ins,  we  shall  lose  her  as  wo 
have  lost  her  husband.  This  you  know  might  have 
made  me  take  heed,  and  have  provided  when  pro- 
vision might  have  been  had. 

Mer.  Well,  said  Mercy,  as  by  this  neglect  we 
have  an  occasion  ministered  unto  us  to  Mercy  makes 
behold  our  own  imperfections,  so  our  |^°^^  neglect  of 
Lord  has  taken  occasion  thereby  to  ^"^'• 
make  manifest  the  riches  of  his  grace ;  for  he,  as 
we  see,  has  followed  us  with  unasked  kindness, 
and  has  delivered  us  from  their  hands  that  were 
stronger  than  we,  of  his  mere  good  pleasure. 

Thus  now  when  they  had  talked  away  a  little 
more  time,  they  drew  near  to  a  house  which  stood 
in  the  way,  which  house  was  built  for  the  relief  of 
pilgrims,  as  you  will  find  more  fully  related  in  the 
first  part  of  these  records  of  the  Pilgi'im's  Progress. 
So  they  drew  on  towards  the  house  ;  (the  house  of 
the  Interpreter;)  and  when  tliey  came  to  the  door 
they  heard  a  great  talk  in  the  house.     Then  they 


296         THE  interpreter's  house. 

Talk  iu  the  In-  g^ve  ear,  and  heard,  as  they  thought, 
SJuf^ciSfa!  Christiana  mentioned  by  name;  foi 
na'3  going  onpii-    yQ^  must  know  that  there  went  alon? 

gnmage.  -^  o 

even  before  her,  a  tialk  of  her  and  hei 
children's  going  on  pilgrimage.  And  this  was  th(^ 
most  pleasing  to  them,beQause  they  had  heard  that 
she  was  Christian's  wife,  that  woman  who  was  some 
time  ago  so  unwilling  to  hear  of  going  on  pilgrim- 
age. Thus,  therefore,  they  stood  still,  and  heard 
the  good  people  within  commending  her  who  they 
She  knocks  at  kittle  thought  stood  at  the  door.  At  last 
the  door.  Christiana  knocked,  as  she  had  done 
at  the  gate  before.  Now,  when  she  had  knocked 
„,      ,  there  came  to  the  door  a  youn^  damsel, 

The   door  is  j  o  y 

opened  to  them    and  Opened  the  door,  and  looked,  and 

by  Innocent.  ■,,■,-, 

behold  two  women  were  there. 

Dam.  Then  said  the  damsel  to  them,  With 
whom  would  you  speak  in  this  place  % 

Chr.  Christiana  answered,  We  understand  that 
this  is  a  privileged  place  for  those  that  are  become 
pilgrims,  and  we  now  at  this  door  are  such  :  where- 
fore 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  loth  to- 
night to  go  any  further. 

Dam.  Pray  what  may  I  call  your  name,  that  I 
may  tell  it  to  my  Lord  within  1 

Chr.  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 


THE    INVITATION.  297 

is  my  companion,  and  is  going  on  pilgrimage  too. 
Innocent.  Then  Innocent  ran  in,  (for  that  was 
her  name,)  and  said  to  those  within,  Can  you  think 
who  is  at  the  door  1  There  is  Christiana  and  her 
children,  and  her  companion,  all  waiting  for  enter 
tainment  here.     Then  they  leaped  for        .    ^  ^ 

•^      ,     ^  Joy  m  the  house 

joy,   and  went  and  told  their  master,   of  the  interpre- 

c,       1  11  -    .       ^  .  ter  that  Christi- 

bo  he  came  to  the  door,  and  lookmg   ana   is  turned 
upon  her,  he  said.  Art  thou  that  Chris-       ^^'^™* 
tiana  whom  Christian  the  good  man  left  behind  him 
when  he  betook  himself  to  a  pilgrim's  life  1 

Chr.  I  am  that  woman  that  was  so  hard-hearted 
as  to  slight  my  husband's  troubles,  and  that  left 
him  to  go  on  his  journey  alone,  and  these  are  his 
four  children ;  but  now  I  also  am  come,  for  I  am 
convinced  that  no  way  is  right  but  this. 

Inter.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  is  written  of 
the  man  that  said  to  his  son,  *'  Go  w^ork  to-day  in 
my  vineyard ;  and  he  said  to  his  father,  I  will  not : 
but  afterwards  repented  and  went."  Matt.  21  :  29. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  So  be  it,  Amen. 
God  make  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  were 
talking  of  thee  but  now,  for  tidings  have  come  to 
us  before  how  thou  art  become  a  pilgrim.  Come, 
children,  come  in ;  come,  maiden,  come  in.  So  he 
had  them  all  into  the  house. 


298  THEIR   HAPPY    RECEPTION. 

So  when  they  were  within  they  were  bidden  to 
sit  down  and  rest  them  ;  the  which  when  they  had 
done,  those  that  attended  upon  the  pilgrims  in  the 
house  came  into  the  room  to  see  them.  And  one 
smiled,  and  another  smiled,  and  they  all  smiled 
Old  saints  glad  ^^  j^Y  ^^at  Christiana  was  become  a 
oneT^wX^'^n  pil^i"!^'  They  also  looked  upon  the 
God's  ways.  boys,  they  stroked  them  over  their 
faces  with  the  hand  in  token  of  their  kind  recep- 
tion of  them :  they  also  carried  it  lovingly  to 
Mercy,  and  bid  them  all  welcome  into  their  mas- 
ter's house. 

After  a  while,  because  supper  was  not  ready,  the 

Interpreter  took  them  into  his  Signifi- 

cj^t  Ro£'    cant  Rooms,  and  showed  them  what 

Christian,    Christiana's   husband,  had 

seen  some  time  before.    Here  therefore  they  saw 

the  man  in  the  cage,  the  man  and  his  dream,  the 

man  that  cut  his  way  through  his  enemies,  and  the 

picture  of  the  biggest  of  them  all,  together  with  the 

rest  of  those  things  that  were  then  so  profitable  to 

Christian. 

This  done,  and  after  those  things  had  been  some- 
what digested  by  Christiana  and  her  company,  the 
Interpreter  takes  them  apart  again,  and  has  them 
first  into  a  room  where  was  a  man  that 

The  man  with  i  t     i       i  in  ■, 

'hs  muck-rake    could  look  no  way   but  downwards, 
bxpoun  e  -with  a  muck-rake  in  his  hand.     There 

stood  also  one  over  his  head,  with  a  celestial  ciown 
in  his  hand,  and  proffered  him  that  crown  for  his 


THE    MUCK-RAKE.  299 

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  persuade  myself  that  I 
know  somewhat  the  meaning  of  this  :  for  this  is  the 
figure  of  a  man  of  this  world ;  is  it  not,  good  sir  1 

Inter.  Thou  hast  said  right,  said  he;  and  his 
muck-rake  doth  show  his  carnal  mind.  And  where- 
as thou  seest  him  rather  give  heed  to  rake  up  straws 
and  sticks,  and  the  dust  of  the  floor,  than  to  do  what 
he  says  that  calls  to  him  from  above  with  the  celes- 
tial crown  in  his  hand  ;  it  is  to  show  that  heaven  is 
but  as  a  fable  to  some,  and  that  things  here  are 
counted  the  only  things  substantial.  Now,  whereas 
it  was  also  showed  thee  that  the  man  could  look  no 
way  but  downwards,  it  is  to  let  thee  know  that  earth- 
ly things,  when  they  are  with  power  upon  men's 
minds,  quite   carry  their  hearts   away  from  God. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  O  deli-        ^^  .  .     , 

Chnstianaa 

ver  me  from    this   muck-rake.    Prov.   prayer  against 

the  muck-rake. 

30  :  8. 

Inter.  That  prayer,  said  the  Interpreter,  has 
lain  by  till  it  is  almost  rusty :  "  Give  me  not 
riches,"  is  scarce  the  prayer  of  one  in  ten  thou- 
sand. Straws,  and  sticks,  and  dust,  with  most,  are 
the  gi'eat  things  now  looked  after. 

With  that  Christiana  and  Mercy  wept,  and  said, 
It  is,  alas !  too  true. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  showed  them  this, 
he  had  them  into  the  very  best  room  in  the  house  ; 


300  THE    SPIDER. 

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  nothinor  to  be 

Of  the  Spider.  /  •  t  i 

seen  but  a  very  great  spider  on  the 
wall,  and  that  they  overlooked. 

Mer.  Then  said  Mercy,  Sir,  I  see  nothing: 
but  Christiana  held  her  peace. 

Inter.  But  said  the  Interpreter,  Look  again. 
She  therefore  looked  again,  and  said,  Here  is  not 
Talk  about  the   ^uy  thing   but   an    ugly   spider,  who 

Spider.  hangs  by  her  hands  upon  the  wall. 
Then  said  he,  Is  there  but  one  spider  in  all  this 
spacious  room  1  Then  the  water  stood  in  Chris- 
tiana's eyes,  for  she  was  a  woman  quick  of  appre- 
hension :  and  she  said.  Yea,  Lord,  there  are  more 
here  than  one;  yea,  and  spiders  whose  venom  is 
far  more  destructive  than  that  which  is  in  her 
The  Interpreter  then  looked  pleasantly  on  her, 
and  said.  Thou  hast  said  the  truth.  This  made 
Mercy  to  blush,  and  the  boys  to  cover  their  faces ; 
for  they  all  began  now  to  understand  the  riddle. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,  "  The  spider 
taketh  hold  with  her  hands,  as  you  see,  and  is  in 
kings'  palaces."  Prov.  30  :  28.  And  wherefore  is 
this  recorded,  but  to  show  you,  that  how  full  of 
the  venom  of  sin  soever  you  be,  yet  you  may,  by 
the  hand  of  Faith,  lay  hold  of  and  dwell  in  the 
best  room  that  belongs  to  the  King's  house  above  ?] 

Chr.  T  thought,  said  Christiana,  of  somethinj 


THE    HEN    AND    CHICKENS.  301 

of  this  ;  but  I  could  not  imagine  it  at  all.  I  thought 
that  we  were  like  spiders,  and  that  we  looked 
like  ugly  creatures,  in  what  fine  rooms  soever  we 
were  :  but  that  by  this  spider,  that  venomous  and 
ill-favored  creature,  we  were  to  learn  how  to  act 
faith,  that  came  not  into  my  thoughts ;  and  yet  she 
had  taken  hold  with  her  hands,  and,  as  I  see, 
dwelleth  in  the  best  room  in  the  house.  Gfod  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  into  another  room,  where  were  a 
hen  and  chickens,    and  bid  them  ob- 
serve awhile.     So  one  of  the  chickens   <^^^^?  ^^^  ^^ 

chickens 

went  to  the  trough  to  drink  ;  and  every 
time  she  drank  she  lifted  up  her  head  and  her 
eyes  toward  heaven.  See,  said  he,  what  this  little 
chick  doth,  and  learn  of  her  to  acknowledge  whence 
your  mercies  come,  by  receiving  them  with  look- 
ing 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 
the  day  long.  2.  She  had  a  special  call,  and  that 
she  had  but  sometimes.  3.  She  had  a  brooding 
note,  Mat.  23  :  37.    And,  4.  She  had  an  outcry. 

Now,  said  he,  compare  this  hen  to  your  King, 
and  these  chickens  to  his  obedient  ones ;  for  an- 
swerable to  her,  he  himself  hath  his  methods  which 


302  THE    GARDEN. 

he  walketh  in  towards  his  people.  By  his  commuii 
call  he  gives  nothing;  by  his  special  call,  he  al- 
ways has  something  to  give ;  he  has  also  a  brood- 
ing voice,  for  them  that  are  under  his  wing ;  and 
he  has  an  outcry,  to  give  the  alarm  when  he  seeth 
the  enemy  come.  I  choose,  my  darlings,  to  lead 
you  into  the  room  where  such  things  are,  because 
you  are  women,  and  they  are  easy  for  you. 

Chr.  And,  sir,  said  Christiana,  pray  let  us  see 
some  more.  So  he  had  them  into  the  slaughter- 
house, where  was  a  butcher  killing  a 
and  the  sheep,  sheep ;  and  behold,  the  sheep  was 
quiet,  and  took  her  death  patiently. 
Then  said  the  Interpreter,  You  must  learn  of  this 
sheep  to  suffer,  and  to  put  up  with  wrongs  with- 
out urmurings  and  complaints.  Behold  how  qui- 
etly 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 

Of  the  garden.  .  t     t-.  -,     ^  «     <-!      /-n     • 

said,  Do  you  see  all  these  i  bo  Chris- 
tiana said,  Yes.  Then  said  he  again.  Behold,  the 
flowers  are  diverse  in  stature,  in  quality,  and  co- 
lor, and  smell,  and  virtue  ;  and  some  are  better 
than  others;  also  where  the  gardener  hath  set 
them,  there  they  stand,  and  quarrel  not  one  with 
another. 
^,  ,    ^  ,^  Again,  he  had  them  into  his  field, 

Of  aie  field.  ,.!,,,  .  -,         ,  1 

which  he  had  sown   with   wheat  and 


ROBIN    AND    SPIDER.  303 

corn  :  but  when  they  beheld  the  tops  of  all  were 
cut  off,  and  only  the  straw  remained,  he  said  again, 
This  ground  was  dunged,  and  ploughed,  and  sow- 
ed, but  what  shall  we  do  with  the  crop  1  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 ;  3nd  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  q^  j^jg  ^.^^^j^ 
in  his  mouth.  So  the  Interpreter  said,  and  the  spider. 
Look  here.  So  they  looked,  and  Mercy  wondered  : 
but  Christiana  said.  What  a  disparagement  is  it  to 
such  a  pretty  little  bird  as  the  robin-red-breast, 
he  being  also  a  bird  above  many  that  loveth  to 
maintain  a  kind  of  sociableness  with  men !  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, 
color  and  carriage.  They  seem  also  to  have  a  very 
great  love  for  professors  that  are  sincere;  and, 
above  all  others,  to  desire  to  associate  with  them, 
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 


304  interpreter's  sayings. 

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, 

Pray,  and  you   bocause  supper  as  yet  was  not  ready, 

whicfyerues    Christiana  again  desired  that  the  In- 

unreveaied.        terpreter   would  either  show    or   tell 

some  other  things  that  are  profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began,  and  said  :  The  fat- 
ter the  sow  is,  the  more  she  desires  the  mire;  the 
fatter  the  ox  is,  the  more  gamesomely  he  goes  to 
the  slaughter ;  and  the  more  healthy  the  lustfii] 
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  v/ith  that  which  in 
God's  sight  is  of  great  price.  'Tis  easier  watching 
a  night  or  two,  than  to  sit  up  a  whole  year  to- 
gether :  so  'tis  easier  for  one  to  begin  to  profess 
well,  than  to  hold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end. 
Every  shipmaster,  when  in  a  storm,  will  willingly 
cast  that  overboard  which  is  of  the  smallest  value 
in  the  vessel ;  but  who  will  throw  the  best  out 
first  ]  None  but  he  that  feareth  not  God.  One  leak 
will  sink  a  ship,  and  one  sin  will  destroy  a  sinner. 
He  that  forgets  his  friend  is  ungi-ateful  unto  him ; 
but  be  that  forgets  his  Savior  is  unmerciful  to  him- 
self. He  that  lives  in  sin,  and  looks  for  hajDpiness 
hereafter,  is  like   him    that    soweth   cockle,    and 


OF    THE    ROTTEN    TREE.  305 

thinks  to  fill  his  barn  with  wheat  or  barley.  If  a 
man  would  live  well,  let  him  fetch  his  last  clay  to 
hiin,  and  make  it  always  his  company-keeper. 
Whispering,  and  change  of  thoughts,  prove  that 
cin  is  in  the  world.  If  the  world,  which  God  sets 
light  by,  is  counted  a  thing  of  that  worth  with  men, 
what  is  heaven,  that  God  commendeth  !  If  the  life 
that  is  attended  with  so  many  troubles,  is  so  loth 
to  be  let  g»  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  be  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  of  the  tree  that 
them  to  a  tree  whose  inside  was  all  is  rotten  at  heart. 
rotten  and  gone,  and  yet  it  grew  and  had  leaves. 
Then  said  Mercy,  What  means  this  1  This  tree, 
said  he,  whose  outside  is  fair,  and  whose  inside  is 
rotten,  is  that  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  tinderbox. 

Now  supper  was  ready,  the  table  spread,  ar.d  all 
things  set  on  the  board :   so  they 
down,  and  did  eat,  when  one  had  given   supper. 

Pil.  Frogreae.  2(1 


306  CHRISTIANA'S    EXPERIENCE. 

thanks.  And  the  Interpreter  did  usually  entertain 
those  that  lodged  with  him  with  music  at  meals ; 
so  the  minstrels  played.  There  was  also  one  thaf 
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  any  thing 

Whereof  I  stand  in  need  ?  • 

When  the  song  and  music  were  ended  the  In- 
_  „  terpreter  asked  Christiana  v/hat  it  was 

Talk  at  supper.  -^ 

that  at  first  did  move  her  thus  to  be- 
take herself  to  a  pilgrim's  life.    Christiana  answer- 
,  ed,  First,  the  loss  of  mv  husband  came 

A  repetition  of    ^  _  ^     •' 

Christiana's  ex-  jnto  my  mind,  at  which  I  was  heartily 
grieved;  but  all  that  was  but  natural 
affection.  Then  after  that  came  the  troubles  and 
pilgrimage  of  my  husband  into  my  mind,  and  also 
how  like  a  churl  I  had  earned  it  to  him  as  to  that. 
So  guilt  took  hold  of  my  mind,  and  would  have 
drawn  me  into  the  pond,  but  that  opportunely  1 
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  dreami 
and  the  letter  together  so  wrought  upon  my  mindi 
that  they  forced  me  to  this  way. 

Inter.  But  met  you  with  no  opposition  befoi 
you  set  out  of  doors  ? 

Chr.  Yes,  a  neighbor   of  mine,  one  Mrs. 


mercy's  experience.  307 

morous  :  she  was  akin  to  him  that  would  have  per- 
suaded my  husband  to  go  back  for  fear  of  the  Uons. 
She  also  so  befooled  me,  for,  as  she  called  it,  my 
intended  desperate  adventure ;  she  also  urged 
v/hat  she  could  to  dishearten  me  from  it,  the  hard- 
ships 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-looking  ones,  that  I 
thought  did  plot  how  to  make  me  miscarry  in  my 
journey,  that  hath  troubled  me  much :  yea,  it  still 
runs  in  my  mind,  and  makjes  me  afraid  of  every 
one  that  I  meet,  lest  they  should  meet  me  to  do 
me  a  mischief,  and  to  turn  me  out  of  my  way. 
Yea,  I  may  tell  my  Lord,  though  I  would  not  have 
every  body  know  of  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. 

Then  said   the  Interpreter,  Thy   beginning  is 
good;   thy  latter  end  shall  greatly  increase.    So 
he   addi-essed  himself  to  Mercy,  and   ^  question  p;u 
said  unto  her.  And  what  moved  thee       ^°  *^"*=y- 
to  come  hither,  sweet  heart  ] 

Mer.   Then  Mercy  blushed  and  trembled,  and 
for  a  while  continued  silent. 

Inter.  Then  said  he,  Be  not  afraid;  only  be- 
lieve, and  speak  thy  mind. 

Mer.  So  she  began,  and  said,  Truly,  sir.  m^^ 


308  mercy's   experience. 

want  of  experience  is  that  which  makes  me  covet 
„      ,  to  be    in  silence,  and  that  also  that 

Mercy's  answer.  ^  ' 

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  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  ? 

Me  R.  Why,  when  our  friend  here  was  packing 
up  to  be  gone  from  our  town,  I  and  another  went 
accidentally  to  see  her.  So  we  knocked  at  the 
door  and  went  it.  When  we  were  within,  and 
seeing  what  she  was  doing,  we  asked  her  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  burn- 
ed within  me.  And  I  said  in  my  heart,  If  this  be  true 
1  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  our  town.  But 
yet  I  came  away  with  a  heavy  heart  j  not  for  that 


THE    BATH.  309 

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 
Kingr. 

o 

Inter.  They  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou  hast 
given  credit  to  the  truth  ;  thou  art  a  Ruth,  who 
did,  for  the  love  she  bare  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.  Ruth,  2:11, 
12.  The  Lord  recompense  thy  work,  and  a  full 
reward  be  given  thee  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel, 
under  whose  wings  thou  art  come  to  trust. 

Now  supper  was  ended,  and  preparation  was 
made  for  bed  :  the  women  were  laid     _ 

'  Tney  undress 

singly  alone,   and  the  boys  by  them-   themselves  for 
selves.    Now  when  Mercy  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.     .. 

•^         _  Mercy  s  good 

So  she  lay  blessing  and  praising  G  od,      night's  rest, 
who  had  such  favor  for  her. 

In  the  morning  they  arose  with  the  sun,  and 
]>repared  themselves  for  their  departure;  but  the 
Interpreter  would  have  them  tarry  a  while;  For, 
said  he,  you  must  orderly  go  from  hence.  Then 
said  he  to  the  damsel  that  first  opened  unto  them, 
Take  them  and  have   them   into  the     _,,    .  .,    ^ 

The  batn  of 

garden    to  the   bath,   and  there  wash    Sanctificatioii. 


310  THEY    ARE    SEALED. 

them  and  make  them  clean  from  the  soil  which 
they  have  gathered  by  travelling.  Then  Innocent 
the  damsel  took  them  and  led  them  into  the  gar- 
den, and  brouofht  them  to  the  bath ;  so  she  told 
them  that  there  they  must  wash  and  be  clean,  for 
60  her  Master  would  have  the  women  to  do  that 
called  at  his  house  as  they  were  going  on  pilgrim- 
^  ^  .    .     age.    Then  they  went  in  and  washed, 

They  wash  in  it.       o  *^ 

yea,  they  and  the  boys,  and  all ;  and 
they  came  out  of  that  bath,  not  only  sweet  and 
clean,  but  also  much  enlivened  and  strengthened 
in  their  joints.  So  when  they  came  in  they  look- 
ed fairer  a  deal  than  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  were  washed  in  his 
,  ^    batb.   So  the  seal  was  brousrht,  and  he 

They  are  sealed.  ^  " 

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,  Exod.  13  :  8-10,  when  they  came  out  of 
the  land  of  Egypt ;  and  the  mark  was  set  between 
their  eyes.  This  seal  greatly  added  to  their  beau- 
ty, for  it  was  an  ornament  to  their  faces.  It  also 
added  to  their  gravity,  and  made  their  counte- 
Ijances  more  like  those  of  angels. 


GREAT-HEART.  31i 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  damsel 
that  waited  upon  these  women,  Go  into  the  vestry, 
and  fetch  out  garments  for  these  people.     So  she 
went   and  fetched  out  white  raiment,        rj.^^^  ^^^ 
and  laid  it  down  before   him  ;  so  he  cIoiIk  a. 

commanded  them  to  put  it  on;  it  was  fine  linen, 
white  and  clean.  When  the  women  were  thus 
adorned  they  seemed  to  be  a  teiTor  one  to  the 
other ;  for  that  they  could  not  see  that 
glory  each  one  had  in  herself,  which  "^^^  ^^^^• 
they  could  see  in  each  other.  Now  therefore  they 
began  to  esteem  each  other  better  than  themselves. 
For,  You  are  fairer  than  I  am,  said  one ;  and, 
You  ai'e  more  comely  than  I  am,  said  another. 
The  children  also  stood  amazed,  to  see  into  what 
fashion  they  were  brought. 


==|p©#«a 


(2ri)e    Qlijith    Stage. 

The  Interpreter  then  called  for  a  man-sei-vant 
of  his,  one  Great-heart,  and  bid  him  take  a  sword, 
and  helmet,  and  shield,  and.  Take  these  my  daugh- 
ters, said  he,  conduct  them  to  the  house  called 
Beautiful,    at   which    place   they    wdll   rest   next. 


312  THEY    COME    TO    THE    CROSS. 

So  he  took  his  weapons,  and  went  before  them ; 
and  the  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  sang : 

This  place  hath  been  our  second  stage. 

Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  things,  that  from  age  to  a^e 

To  others  hid  have  been. 

The  dunghill-raker,  spider,  hen. 

The  chicken,  too,  to  me 
Have  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  dream  that  these  went  on 
and  Great-heart  before  them.  So  they  went,  and 
came  to  the  place  where  Christian's  burden  fell 
off  his  back  and  tumbled  into  a  sepulchre.  Here 
then  they  made  a  pause ;  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, 


OF    OUR    BEING    JUSTIFIED.  3J3 

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  it  is  to  have  pardon 
by  deed,  or  in  the  way  that  it  was  obtained,  INIr. 
Great-heart,  I  suppose  you  know,  wherefore,  if 
you  please,  let  us  hear  your  discourse  thereof. 

Great.  Pardon  by  the  deed   done,  is  pardon 
obtained  by  some  one  for  another  that 
hath  need  thereof;  not  by  the  person   ^^^^  SiJ^rwL 
pardoned,  but  in  the  way,  saith  another,    or'^^'diSoSS 
in  which  I  have  obtained  it.     So  then,    ?^°y,^Tf  J""!* 

'     Utied  by  Christ. 

to  speak  to  the  question  more  at  large, 
the  pardon  that  you,  and  Mercy,  and  these  boys 
have  attained,  was  obtained  by  another:  to  wit, 
by  him  that  let  you  in  at  the  gate.  And  he  hath 
obtained  it  in  this  double  way ;  he  hath  performed 
righteousness  to  cover  you,  and  spilt  his  blood  to 
wash  you  in. 

Chr.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  righteousness  to 
us,  what  will  he  have  for  himself? 

Great.  He  has  more  righteousness  than  you 
have  need  of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself 

Chr.  Pray  make  that  appear. 

Great.  With  all  my  heart:  but  first  I  must 
premise,  that  He  of  whom  we  are  now  about  to 
ipeak  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  na- 
tures a  righteousness  belongeth,  and  each  righteous- 
ness is  essential  to  that  nature  ;  so  that  one  may  as 


314  OF    OUR   BEING  i 

easily  cause  the  nature  to  be  extinct  as  to  separate 
its  justice  or  righteousness  from  it.  Of  these  righ- 
teousnesses 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  joined  in  one 
And  this  is  not  the  righteousness  of  the  Godhead, 
as  distinguished  from  the  manhood  ;  nor  the  righ- 
teousness 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  intrusted  with.  If 
he  parts  with  his  first  righteousness,  he  parts  with 
his  Godhead ;  if  he  parts  with  his  second  righteous- 
ness, he  parts  with  the  purity  of  his  manhood  ;  if  he 
parts  with  his  third,  he  parts  with  that  perfection 
which  capacitates  him  for  the  office  of  mediation. 
He  has  therefore  another  righteousness,  which 
standeth  in  performance,  or  obedience  to  a  revealed 
will ;  and  that  is  what  he  puts  upon  sinners,  and 
that  by  which  their  sins  are  covered.  Wherefore 
he  saith,  "As  by  one  man's  disobedience  many 
were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience  of  one 
shall  many  be  made  righteous."  Rom.  5  :  19. 

Chk,.  But  are  the  other  righteousnesses  of  no 
use  to  us  1 

Great.  Yes  ;  for  though  they  are  essential  to 


JUSTIFIED    BY    CHRIST.  315 

his  natures  and  office,  and  cannot  he  communicated 
unto  another  ;  yet  it  is  by  virtue  of  them  that  the 
righteousness  that  justifies  is  for  that  purpose  effi- 
cacious.    The  righteousness  of  his  Godhead  gives 
virtue  to  his  obedience ;  the  righteousness  of  his 
i:  manhood    giveth    capability    to   his    obedience   to 
1  justify  ;   and  the  righteousness  that  standeth  in  the 
I  union  of  these  two  natures,  to  his  office,   giveth 
[authority  to  that  righteousness  to  do  the  work  for 
which  it  was  ordained. 

So  then  here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as 
God,  has  no  need  of;  for  he  is  God  without  it. 
Here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  man,  has  no 
need  of  to  make  him  so  ;  for  he  is  perfect  man  with- 
out 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 

t  Christ,  as  God,  and  as  God-man,  has  no  need  of  with 
reference  to  himself,  and  therefore  he  can  spare  it ; 
a  justifying  righteousness,  that  he  for  himself  want- 
eth  not,  and  therefore  giveth  it  away.  Hence  it  is 
called  the  gift  of  righteousness.  This  righteous- 
ness, since  Christ  Jesus  the  Lord  has  made  himself 
under  the  law,  must  be  given  away ;  for  the  law 
doth  not  only  bind  him  that  is  under  it,  to  do  justly, 
but  to  use  charity.  Wherefore  he  must,  or  ought, 
by  the  law,  if  he  hath  two  coats,  to  give  one  to  him 
ihat  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. 


316  OF    OUR   BEING  '         jj 

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  worked,  and  hath  given  away  what  he 
"WTought  for,  to  the  next  poor  beggar  he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed,  there 
must  something  be  paid  to  God  as  a  price,  as  well 
as  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  justified  by 
way  of  redemption,  a  price  being  paid  for  the  harms 
we  have  done ;   and  this  is  by  the  blood  of  your 
Lord,  who  came  and  stood  in  your  place  and  stead, , 
and  died  your  death  for  your  transgressions.     Thus  ; 
has  he  ransomed  you  from  your  transgressions  by 
blood,    and  covered  your  polluted  and  deformed  i 
souls  with  righteousness,  Rom.  8:34,  for  the  sake  - 
of  which  God  passeth  by  you,   and  will  not  hurt  t 
you  when  he  comes  to  judge  the  world.  Gal.  3  :  13. . 

Chr.  This  is  brave  !   Now  I  see  that  there  was  ^ 
Christiana af-    Something  to  be  learned  by  our  being; 
wf ^ofre?em'^   pardoned  by  word  and  deed.     Good  ' 
tion.  Mercy,   let  us  labor  to  keep  this  in 

mind  :  and,  my  children,  do  you  remember  it  also. 
But,  sir,  was  not  this  it  that  made  my  good  Chris- 
tian's burden  fall  from  off  his  shoulders,  and  that 
made  him  give  three  leaps  for  joy? 
HowtheGtiings        Great.    Yes,  it  was  the  belief  of  I 
Christian's  bur-   this  that  cut  thoso  Strings  that  could  not  ' 
dentohimwere  ^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^^^  means;  and  it  was  to  ! 


JUSTIFIEJD    BY    CHRIST.  317 

give  him  a  proof  of  the  virtue  of  this,  that  he  was 
suffered  to  carry  his  burden  to  the  cross. 

Chr.  I  thought  so  :  for  though  ray  heart  was 
lightsome  and  joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten  times  more 
lightsome  and  joyous  now.  And  I  am  persuaded 
by  what  I  have  felt,  though  I  have  felt  but  little  as 
yet,  that  if  the  most  burdened  man  in  the  world  was 
here,  and  did  see  and  believe  as  I  now  do,  it  would 
make  his  heart  the  more  merry  and  blithe. 

Great.  There  is  not  only  comfort  and  the  ease 
of  a  burden  brouorht  to  us  by  the  sig-ht    „        ^    . 

°  *'  °         How    aflfection 

and  consideration  of  these,  but  an  en-    to  Christ  is  be- 

1  T      /^       •         1  •  ,       .         „         got  in  the  soul. 

deared  aiiection  begot  m  us  by  it :  tor 
who  can  (if  he  doth  but  once  think  that  pardon 
comes  not  only  by  promise,  but  thus)  but  be  af- 
fected with  the  way  and  means  of  his  redemption, 
and  so  with  the  man  that  hath  wrought  it  for  him  ] 
Chr.  True,  methinks  it  makes  my  heart  bleed, 
to  think  that  he  should  bleed  for  me.  Oh !  thou 
loving  One  :  Oh!  thou  blessed  One.  Thou  deserv- 
est  to  have  me  ;  thou  hast  bought  me.  cause  of  admi- 
Thou  deservest  to  have  me  all :  thou  ration. 
hast  paid  for  me  ten  thousand  times  more  than  J 
am  worth.  No  marvel  that  this  made  the  tears 
stand  in  my  husband's  eyes,  and  that  it  made  hiai 
Uudge  so  nimbly  on.  I  am  persuaded  he  wished 
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  was 


318  END    AND    CRIMES    OF 

Madam  Wanton  too.  Surely,  surely,  their  hearts 
would  be  affected;  nor  could  the  fear  of  the  one, 
nor  the  powerful  lusts  of  the  other,  prevail  with 
them  to  go  home  again,  and  refuse  to  become  good 
pilgrims. 

Great.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of  your 
affections;  will  it,  think  you,  be  always  thus  with 
you  1  Besides,  this  is  not  communicated  to  every 
one,  nor  to  every  one  that  did  see  your  Jesus 
bleed.  There  were  that  stood  by,  and  that  saw 
the  blood  run  from  his  heart  to  the  gTOund,  and  yet 
were  so  far  off  this,  that,  instead  of  lamenting, 
they  laughed  at  him,  and,  instead  of  becoming  his 
disciples,  did  harden  their  hearts  against  him.  So 
that  all  that  you  have,  my  daughters, 
with  Christ  and   you  havo  bv  peculiar  impression  made 

with   what    he     *  ,.    .  ^      . 

has  done,  is  a  by  a  divme  Contemplating  upon  what 
I  have  spoken  to  you.  Remember  that 
'twas  told  you,  that  the  hen,  by  her  common  call, 
gives  no  meat  to  her  chickens.  This  you  have  there- 
fore by  a  special  grace. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  until 
they  were  come  to  the  place  that  Simple,  and  Sloth, 
and  Presumption,  lay  and  slept  in  when  Christian 
went  by  on  pilgrimage :  and  behold,  they  were 
hanged  up  in  irons  a  little  way  off  on  the  other  side. 
Simple,  Sloth,  Mer.  Then  Said  Mercy  to  him  that 
rion  ^i?ngT;  ^as  their  guide  and  conductor.  What 
and  why.  g^j.g  theso  three  men  1  and  for  what  are 

they  hanged  there  ] 


SIMPLE    AND    HIS    COMPANIONS.         319 

Great.  These  three  men  were  men  of  bad 
qualities ;  they  liad  no  mind  to  be  pilgrims  them- 
selves, and  whomsoever  they  could  they  hindered. 
They  were  sloth  and  folly  themselves,  and  whom- 
soever they  could  persuade  they  made  so  too,  and 

lial  taught  them  to  presume  that  they  should  do 

U  at  lust.  They  were  asleep  when  Christian 
wont  by,  and  now  you  go  by,  they  are  hanged. 

Mer.   But   could  they  persuade   any  to  be  of 


leir 


opmion 


Great.  Yes,  they  turned  several  out  of  the 
way.     There  was  Slow-pace  that  they 

11  1  1  mi  1  Their  crimes 

persuaded  to  do  as  they.  1  hey  also 
prevailed  with  one  Short-wind,  with  one  No-heart, 
with  one  Linger-after-lust,  and  with  one  Sleepy- 
head, and  with  a  young  woman,  her  name  was 
Dull,  to  turn  out  of  the  way  and  become  as  they. 
Besides,  they  brought  up  an  ill  report  of  your 
Lord,  persuading  others  that  he  was  a  hard  task- 
master. They  also  brought  up  an  evil  I'eport  of 
the  good  land,  saying  it  was  not  half  so  good  as 
some  pretended  it  was.  They  also  began  to  vilify 
his  servants,  and  to  count  the  best  of  them  med- 
dlesome, troublesome,  busy-bodies.  Further,  they 
would  call  the  bread  of  God  husks ;  the  comforts 
of  his  children,  fancies ;  the  travel  and  labor  of 
pilgrims,  things  to  no  purpose. 

Chr.  Nay,  said  Christiana,  if  they  were  such. 
they  should  never  be  bewailed  by  me  :  they  have 
but  what  they  desei-ve ;  and  I  think  it  is  well  that 


320  THE    HILL    OF    DIFFICULTY 

they  stand  sa  near  the  highway,  that  others  may  i 
see  and  take  warning.     But  had  it  not  been  well  ii  1 
their  crimes  had  been  engi-aven  in  some  plate  oi 
iron  or  brass,  and  left  here  where  they  did  theii ' 
mischiefs,  for  a  caution  to  other  bad  men  1 

Great.  So  it  is,  as  you  may  well  perceive,  if 
you  will  go  a  little  to  the  wall. 

Mer.   No,  no;  let  them  hang,  and  their  names 
rot,  and  their  crimes  live  for  ever  against  them.    I 
think  it  a  high  favor  that  they  were  hanged  beforo 
we  came  hither  :  who  knows  else  what  they  might ; 
have  done  to  such  poor  women  as  we  are.    Then  i 
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  to  the  foot 
of  the  hill  Difficulty,  w^here  again  the  good  Mr. 
Great-heart  took  an  occasion  to  tell  them  what 
happened  there  when  Christian  himself  went  by. 
So  he  had  them  first  to  the  spring.  Lo,  saith  he, 
this  is  the  spring  that  Christian  drank  of  before  he 
went  up  this  hill :  and  then  it  was  clear  and  good  ; 
but  now  it  is.  dirty  with  the  feet  of 

It  is  difficult  ,  1      •  1  •! 

getting  of  good    some  that  are   not    desirous  that  pil- 

rouSu?  times!   gf  ims  here  should  quench  their  thirst. 

Ezek.  34  :   18,  19.     Thereat  Mercy 


THE    TWO    BY-WAYS.  321 

said,  And  why  so  envious,  trow  1  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  showed  them  the  two  by-ways  that 
were  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  where  Formality  and 
Hypocrisy  lost  themselves.  And,  said  he,  these 
are  dangerous  paths.  Two  were  here  cast  away 
when  Christian  came  by ;  and  although,  as  you 
see,  these  ways  are  since  stopped  up 

.  1         ,     .         *^  n  ..     ,  ^  The  paths, 

with    chains,    posts,    and  a  ditch,  yet   though  barred 

there  are  those  that  will  choose  to  ad-   keep  all  from 

venture  here  rather  than  take  the  pains   ^°"^^  ^    ^^ 

to  go  up  this  hill. 

< !      Chr,  "  The   way    of    transgressors   is   hard." 

f'  Prov.  13:15.    It  is  a  wonder  that  they  can  get 

i  I  into  these  ways  without  danger  of  breaking  their 

f..j  necks. 

ill     Great.   They  will  venture  ;  yea,  if  at  any  time 
:'  any  of  the  King's  servants  do  happen  to  see  them, 
and  do  call  upon  them,  and  tell  them  that  they 
vure  in  the  wrong  way,  and  do  bid  them  beware 
^l^of  the  danger;  then  they  railingly  return  them  an- 
swer, and  say,  "  As  for  the  word  that  thou  hast 
spoken  unto  us  in  the  name  of  the  King,  we  will 

P)l.  Progress.  21 


322  THE    ARBOR. 

not  hearken  unto  thee  ;  but  we  will  certainly  lio 
whatsoever  thing  goeth  out  of  our  own  mouth." 
Jer.  44  :  16,  17.  Nay,  if  you  look  a  little  further, 
you  shall  see  that  these  ways  are  made  caution nry 
enough,  not  only  by  these  posts,  and  ditch,  and 
chain,  but  also  by  being  hedged  up  :  yet  they  wil] 
choose  to  go  there. 

Chr.  They  are    idle  :    they   love    not    to  talia 
pains  :  up-hill  way  is  unpleasant  to  them.     So   if; 
The  reason   ^^  fulfilled  unto  them  Bs  it  is  written, 
ctrosftrgotn   "  The  way  of  the  slothful  man  is  as 
by-ways.  hedge  of  thorns."  Prov.  15  :  19.    Yc 

they  will  rather  choose  to  walk  upon  a  snare  tharj 
to  go  up  this  hill,  and  the  rest  of  this  way  to  the. 
city. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up  tl 
The  hui  puts  the   ^ill,  and  up  the  hill  they  went.     B; 

pilgrims  to  it.  before  they  got  to  the  top  Christiana 
began  to  pant,  and  said,  I  dare  say  this  is  a  breatl 
ing  hill;  no  marvel  if  they  that  love  their  ea; 
more  than  their  souls  choose  to  themselves 
smoother  way.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  must  f 
down  :  also  the  least  of  the  children  began  to  cr 
Come,  come,  said  Great-heart,  sit  not  down  here 
for  a  little  above  is  the  Prince's  arbor.  Then  1 
took  the  little  boy  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  i; 
thereto. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  arbor  they  wer 
They  sit  in  the   ^ery  willing  to  sit  down,  for  they  were 
^'^°''-        all  in  a  pelting  heat.    Then  said  Mei-- 


m  THE    PILGRIMS    REFRESHED.  323 

cy,  "  How  sweet  is  rest  to  them  that  labor,"  Matt. 
11  :28;  and  how  good  is  the  Prince  of  pilgiims 
to  provide  such  resting-places  for  them  !  Of  this 
arbor  I  have  heard  much ;  but  I  never  saw  it  be- 
fore. But  here  let  us  beware  of  sleeping ;  for.  as 
I  have  heard,  it  cost  poor  Christian  dear. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great- Heart  to  the  little  ones. 
Come,  my  pretty  boys,  how  do  you  do  ]  what 
think  you  now  of  going  on  pilgrimage  ?  ^he  little  boys 
Sir,  said  the  least,  I  was  almost  beat   ^fj^^  ^°  *^« 

'  '  guide,  and  also 

out  of  heart ;  but  I  thank  you  for  lend-  ^o  Mercy. 
ing  me  a  hand  at  my  need.  And  I  remember  now 
what  my  mother  hath  told  me,  namely,  that  the 
way  to  heaven  is  as  a  ladder,  and  the  way  to  hell 
!  is  as  down  a  hill.  But  T  had  rather  go  up  the  lad- 
der to  life  than  go  down  the  hill  to  death. 
\if  Then  said  Mercy,  But  the  proverb  is,  **  To  go 
down  the  hill  is  easy."  But  James  said,  (for  that 
was  his  name,)  The  day  is  coming  when,  in  my 
opinion,  going  down  the  hill  will  be  the  hardest 
of  all.  'Tis  a  good  boy,  said  his  master ;  thou  hast 
given  her  a  right  answer.  Then  Mercy  smiled, 
but  the  little  boy  did  blush. 

Chr.  Come,  said  Christiana,  will  you  eat  a  bit 
to  sweeten  your  mouths  while  you  sit  ,j^gy  refresh 
here  to  rest  your  legs  1  for  I  have  here  themselves. 
a  piece  of  pomegranate  which  Mr.  Interpreter  put 
into  my  hand  just  when  I  came  out  of  his  door; 
he  gave  nie  also  a  piece  of  an  honeycomb,  and  a 
little   bottle    of  spirits.    1  thought   he    gave   you 


324         CHRISTIANA'S    FORGETFULNESS. 

something,  said  Mercy,  because  he  called  you 
aside.  Yes,  so  he  did,  said  the  other  ;  but,  said 
Christiana,  it  shall  be  still  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  re- 
turn ;  much  good  may  what  you  have  do  you  :  at 
home  I  eat  the  same  every  day. 


^\)c  iTourtl)    Stage. 

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  forgot 
to  take  her  bottle  of  spirits  with  her, 

Christiana  for-  t     i     i  i       i 

gets  her  bottie   SO  she  Sent  her  little  boy  back  to  fetch 

it.     Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  this  is 

a  losing  place;  here   Christian  lost  his  roll,  and 


THE    STAGE.  325 

here  Christiana  left  her  bottle  behind  her  :  sir,  what 
is  the  cause  of  this  1  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  pilgrims,  in  some  things,  come  off  losers.  Pil- 
grims should  watch,  and  remember  what  they  have 
already  received,  under  their  greatest  enjoyments  ; 
but  for  want  of  doing  so,  oftentimes  their  rejoicing 
ends  in  tears  and  their  sunshine  in  a 
cloud;  witness  the  story  of  Christian  Mark  this. 
at  this  place. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous  met  Christian,  to  persuade  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  there- 
on, and  underneath  the  reason  of  raising  up  that 
stage  in  that  place  rendered.     The  verses  were  : 

Let  him  that  sees  this  stage,  take  heed 

Unto  his  heart  and  tongue  ; 
Lest,  if  he  do  not,  here  he  speed 

As  some  have  long  agone. 

The  words  underneath  the  verses  were,  "  This 
stage  was  built  to  punish  those  upon,  who,  through 
timorousness  or  mistrust,  shall  be  afraid  to  go  fur- 
ther on  pilgiimage.  Also,  on  this  stage  both  Mis- 
trust   and    Timorous    were   burned   through    tho 


326  THE    LIONS 

tongue  with  a  hot  iron  for  endeavoring  to  hinder 
Christian  on  his  journey." 

Then  said  Mercy,  This  is  much  like  to  the  say- 
ofthe  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." 
Psalm  120  ;  3,  4. 

So  they  went  on  till  they  came  within  sight  of  the 
lions.  Now  Mr.  Great-heart  was  a  strong  man,  so 
he  was  not  afraid  of  a  lion.  But  yet  when  they 
were  come  up  to  the  place  where  the  lions  were, 

An  emblem  of  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^  ^''^^^^  before.  Were  now 
thosethatgoon    grlad  to  cringe  behind,  for  they  were 

bravely    when        ^     .  ,  . 

there  is  no  dan-    afraid  of  the   lions :    so  they  stepped 

ger,  but  shrink  *         i  •        i     • 

when  troubles  bacK,  and  went  behind.  At  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  1 

Now  as  they  went  on  Mr.  Great-heart  drew  his 
sword,  with  intent  to  make  a  way  for  the  pilgi'ims 
in  spite  of  the  lions.  Then  there  appeared  one 
Of  Grim,  the  that,  it  seems,  had  taken  upon  him  to 
ba^cki^  the  li-  back  the  lions  ;  and  he  said  to  the  pil- 
ons.  gi'ims'  guide,  What  is  the  cause  of  your 

coming  hither  1  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.  Then  said  the  pilgrims'  guide.  These 
women  and  children  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and 


,^m  m 


Greut-heail's  conflict  and  victory. — p.  .526. 


aaiM,    THE    GIANT.  327 

ibis  is  the  way  they  must  go ;  and  go  it  they  shall, 
hi  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  ]ate  lain  much  unoc- 
cupied, and  was  almost  grown  over  with  gi'ass. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  Thouo:h  the  high- 
ways  have  been  unoccupied  heretofore,  and  though 
the  travellers  have  been  made  in  times  past  to  walk 
through  by-paths,  it  must  not  be  so  now  I  am  risen, 
naw  I  am  risen  a  mother  in  Israel.    Judges,  5:7. 

Grim.  Then  he  swore  by  the  lions  that  it  should, 
and  therefore  bid  them  turn  aside,  for  they  should 
not  have  passage  there. 

But  Great-heart  their  guide  made  first  his  ap- 
proach unto  Grim,  and  laid  so  heavily    .  ^  , ,  ^ 

c  '  •'A  fight  betwixt 

on  him  with  his  sword  that  he  forced   Grimand  Great- 

heart. 

him  to  retreat. 

Grim.  Then  said  he  that  attempted  to  back  the 
lions.  Will  you  slay  me  upon  my  own  ground  ] 

Great.  It  is  the  King's  highway  that  we  are 
in,  and  in  this  way  it  is  that  thou  hast  placed  the 
lions  ;  but  these  women,  and  these  children,  though 
weak,  shall  hold  on  their  way  in  spite  of  thy  lions. 
And  with  that  he  gave  him  again  a  downright  blow, 
and  brought  him  upon  his  knees.  With  this  blow 
also  he  broke  his  helmet,  and  with  the  next  he  cut 


328  THE  porter's  lodge. 

off  an  arm.     Then  did  the  giant  roar  so  hideously 
that  his  voice  frightened  the  women,  and  yet  they 
were  glad  to  see  him  lie  sprawling  upon  the  ground. 
Now  the  lions  were  chained,  and  so  of 
themselves  could  do  nothing.     Where- 
fore, 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  shall  hap- 
pen to  you  from  the  lions.     They  therefore  went 
They  pass  by   ^^»  ^^^  ^^®  womeu  trembled  as  they 
the  hons.       passed  by  them  ;  the  boys  also  looked 
as  if  they  would  die  ;  but  they  all  got  by  without 
further  hurt. 

Now  when  they  were  within  sight  of  the  Por- 
ter's lodge  they  soon   came  up  unto   it,  but  they 
made  the  more  haste  after  this  to  go  thither,  be- 
cause it  is  dangerous  travelling  there 

They    come    .,.101  i 

to  the  Porter's  m  the  night,  bo  when  they  were  come 
^°  ^^"  to  the  gate  the  guide  knocked,  and  the 

Porter  cried,  Who  is  there  ]  But  as  soon  as  the 
guide  had  said,  It  is  I,  he  knew  his  voice,  arid 
came  down,  for  the  guide  had  oft  before  that  come 
thither  as  a  conductor  of  pilgi'ims.  When  he  was 
come  down  he  opened  the  gate ;  and  seeing  the 
guide  standing  just  before  it,  (for  he  saw  not  the 
women,  for  they  were  behind  him,)  he  said  unto 
him,  How  now,  Mr.  Great-heart,  what  is  your  busi- 
ness here  so  late  at  night  1  I  have  brought,  said 
he,  some  pilgrims  hither,  where,  by  my  Lord's 
commandment,  they  must  lodge  :  I  had  been  here 


GREAT-HEART    LEAVES    THEM.  329 

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. 

PoR.  Will  you  not  go  in,  and  stay  till  morn 
iiig] 

Great.  No,  I  v^ill  return  to  my  a^e^''^tf"'o''''!'o 
Lord  to-night.  back. 

Chr.  O,  sir,  I  know  not  how  to  be  willing  you 
should  leave  us  in  our  pilgrimage,  you  have  been 
so  faithful  and  so  loving  to  us  ;  you  have  fought  so 
stoutly  for  us,  you  have  been  so  hearty  in  counsel- 
ling of  us,  that  I  shall  never  forget  your  favor  to- 
wards us. 

Mer.  Then  said  Mercy,  O  that  we  might  have 
thy  company  to  our  journey's  end!  ThepiigrimB 
How    can    such    poor  women   as  we   implore      hia 

•••  company  still. 

hold  out  in  a  way  so  full  of  troubles  as 
this  way  is,  without  a  friend  and  defender  1 

James.  Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the 
boys.  Pray,  sir,  be  persuaded  to  go  with  us,  and 
help  us,  because  we  are  so  weak,  and  the  way  so 
dangerous  as  it  is. 

Great.  I  am  at  my  Lord's  commandment;  if 
he  shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite  through, 
I  will  willingly  wait  upon  you.  But  here  you 
failed  at  first ;  for  when  he  bid  me  ^  ^^^^  ^^^ 
come    thus    far    with    you,    then    you   want  of  asking 

,  "  for  it. 

should  have  begged  me  of  him  to  have 

gone  quite  through  with  you,  and  he  would  have 


330  PILGRIMS    ENTERTAINED. 

granted  your  request.  However,  at  present  I 
must  withdraw ;  and  so,  good  Christiana,  Mercy, 
and  my  brave  children,  adieu. 

Then  the  Porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Chris- 
tiana of  her  country,  and  of  her  kindred.  And  she 
said,  I  came  from  the  city  of  Destruction.  I  am 
a  widow  woman,  and  my  husband  is  dead ;  his 
name  was  Christian,  the  pilgrim. 

How !  said  the  Porter,  was  he  your  husband  ? 
Yes,  said  she,  and  these  are  his  children  ;  and  this, 
pointing  to  Mercy,  is  one  of  my  townswomen. 

Then  the  Porter  rang  his  bell,  as  at  such  times 
he  is  wont,  and  there  came  to  the  door  one  of  the 
damsels,  whose  name  was  Humble-mind ;  and  to 
her  the  Porter  said,  Go  tell  it  within  that  Chris- 
tiana, the  wife  of  Christian,  and  her  children,  are 
come  hither  on  pilgrimage.  She  went  in  there- 
fore, and  told  it.  But  oh,  what  noise 
news^fthepii-  for  gladness  was  there  within  when 
giuns  coming.  ^^^  damscl  did  but  drop  that  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  thee.  So  she  went  in,  and  they  followed  her 
that  were  her  children  and  companions.  Now 
when  they  were  gone  in,  they  were  had  into  a 
large  room,  where  they  were  bidden  to  sit  down : 


PILGRIMS    ENTERTAINED.  331 

50  they  sat  down,  and  the  chief  of  the  house  were 
called  to  see  and  welcome  the  guests.  Then  they 
came  in,  and  understanding  who  they  were,  did 
salute  each  other  with  a  kiss,  and  said,  christians' love 
Welcome,  ye  vessels  of  the  grace  of  JS^^SSx^ 
God  ;  welcome  to  us,  your  friends.         °"^^^- 

Now,  because  it  was  somewhat  late,  and  be- 
cause the  pilgrims  were  weary  with  their  journey, 
and  also  made  faint  with  the  sight  of  the  fight,  and 
of  the  terrible  lions,  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  a  lamb, 
with  the  accustomed  sauce  belonging  thereto ; 
Exod.  12  :  21;  John,  1  :  29 ;  for  the  Porter  had 
heard  before  of  their  coming,  and  had  told  it  to 
them  within.  So  when  they  had  supped,  and  end- 
ed their  prayer  with  a  psalm,  they  desired  they 
might  go  to  rest. 

But  let  us,  said  Christiana,  if  we  may  be  so  bold 
as  to  choose,- be  in  that  chamber  that  was  my  hus- 
band's when  he  was  here ;  so  they  had  them  up 
thither,  and  they  all  lay  in  a  room.  When  they 
were  at  rest,  Christiana  and  Mercy  entered  into 
discourse  about  thino-s  that  were  convenient. 

o 

Chr.  Little  did  I  think  once,  when        ^^  .  „    . 

'  Chnsts  ho- 

my husband  went  on  pilgrimage,  that   som  is  for  all 

I  should  ever  have  followed  him. 

Mer.  And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying  in  his 

bed,  and  in  his  chamber  to  rest,  as  you  do  now. 


332  MERCY'S    DREAM. 

Chr.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of  see 
ing  his  face  with  comfort,  and  of  worshipping  the 
Lord,  the  King,  with  him ;  and  yet  now  I  beheve 
I  shall. 

Mer.  Hark  !   don't  you  hear  a  noise  1 

Chr.  Yes,  it  is,  as  I  believe,  a  noise 
of  music,  for  joy  that  we  are  here. 

Mer.  Wonderful!  Music  in  the  house,  music 
in  the  heart,  and  music  also  in  heaven,  for  joy  that 
we  are  here  !  Thus  they  talked  a  while,  and  then 
betook  themselves  to  sleep. 

So  in  the  morning  when  they  were  awake, 
Mercy  did  laugh  Christiana  said  to  Mercy,  What  was 
in  her  sleep.  ^j^g  matter  that  you  did  laugh  in  youi 
sleep  to-night "?     I  suppose  you  were  in  a  dream. 

Mer.  So  I  was,  and  a  sweet  dream  it  was  ;  but 
are  you  sure  I  laughed  ] 

Chr.  Yes,  you  laughed  heartily ;  but  prithee, 
Mercy,  tell  me  thy  dream. 

Mer.  I  was  dreaming  that  I  sat  all  alone  in  a  so- 
litary place,  and  was  bemoaninof  of  the 

Mercy's  dream.  j'  ^  ^ 

hardness  of  my  heart.  Now  I  had  not 
sat  there  long  but  methought  many  were  gathered 
about  me  to  see  me,  and  to  hear  what  it  was  that 
T  said.  So  they  hearkened,  and  I  went  on  bo- 
moaning  the  hardness  of  my  heart.  At  this  some 
of  them  laughed  at  me,  some  called  me  fool,  and 
some  began  to  thrust  me  about.  With  that,  me- 
what  her  ^^ought  I  looked  up  and  saw  one  com- 
dreamwas.        ^^g  y^[i}i  wings  towards  me.     So  he 


mercy's  dream.  333 

came  directly  to  me,  and  said,  Mercy,  what  aileth 
thee  1  Now  when  he  had  heard  me  make  my 
complaint,  he  said.  Peace  be  to  thee ;  he  also 
wiped  my  eyes  with  his  handkerchief,  and  clad  me 
in  silver  and  gold.  Ezek.  16  :  8-11.  He  put  a 
chain  about  my  neck,  and  ear-rings  in  my  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  fol- 
lowed 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  i-ather  like  the  sun,  and  I  thought  that  I  saw 
your  husband  there  :  so  I  awoke  from  my  dream. 
But  did  I  laugh  1 

Chr.  Laugh !  ay,  and  well  you  might  to  see 
yourself  so  well.  For  you  must  give  me  leave  to 
tell  you  that  it  was  a  good  dream ;  and  that  as  you 
have  begun  to  find  the  first  part  true,  so  you  shall 
find  the  second  at  last.  *'  God  speaks  once,  yea 
twice,  yet  man  perceiveth  it  not ;  in  a  dream,  in  a 
vision  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon 
men,  in  slumberings  upon  the  bed."  Job,  33  :  14, 
15.  We  need  not,  when  a-bed,  to  lie  awake  to 
talk  with  God ;  he  can  visit  us  while  we  sleep, 
and  cause  us  then  to  hear  his  voice.  Our  heart 
oftentimes  wakes  when  we  sleep,  and  God  can 
K.peak  to  that,  either  by  words,  by  proverbs,  by 


334  THE    PILGRIMS    STAY. 

signs  and  similitudes,  as  well  as  if  one  was  a\^ake. 
Mer.  Well,  I  am  glad  of  my  dream  ;  for  I  hope 
ere  long  to  see  it  fulfilled,  to  the  mak- 
''EVi^;-   ing  nie  laugh  again.  ^ 

Chr.  I  think  it  is  now  high  time 
to  rise,  and  to  know  what  we  must  do. 

Mer.  Pray,  if  they  invite  us  to  stay  awhile,  let  us 
willingly  accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am  the  more  will- 
ing to  stay  awhile  here,  to  grow  better  acquainted 
with  these  maids  :  methinks  Prudence,  Piety,  and 
Charity,  have  very  comely  and  sober  countenances. 
Chr.  We  shall  see  what  they  will  do. 
So  when  they  were  up  and  ready,  they  came 
down,  and  they  asked  one  another  of  their  rest, 
and  if  it  was  comfortable  or  not. 

Mer.  Very  good,   said  Mercy  :  it  was  one  of 

the  best  night's  lodgings  that  ever  I  had  in  my  life. 

Then  said  Prudence  and  Piety,  if  you  will  be 

persuaded  to  stay    here    awhile,    you    shall  have 

what  the  house  will  afford. 

Char.  Ay,  and  that  with  a  very  good  will,  said 

Charity.    So  they   consented,    and    stayed    there 

about  a  month,  or  above,   and  became 

somJtime^'^^   Very  profitable  one  to  another.    And 

because    Prudence     would     see    how 

Christiana  had  brought  up  her  children,  she  asked 

leave  of  her  to  catechise  them.  So  she 

siieT  uT^cate-   gave  her  free  consent.    Then  she  be- 

SS  cmSlt   gan  with  the  youngest,   whose  name 

was  James. 


THE    CHILDKEN    CATECHISED.  335 

Prud.  And  she  said,  Come,  James,  canst  thou 
toll  me  who  made  thee  ]    , 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the     -^^^YseT*^' 
Son,  and  God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy.  And  canst  thou  tell  who 
saved  thee  1 

James.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

Prud.  Good  boy  still.  But  how  doth  God  the 
Father  save  thee  ? 

James.  By  his  grace. 

Prud.  How  doth  God  the  Son  save  thee  1 

James.  By  his  righteousness,  death  and  blood, 
and  life. 

Prud.  And  how  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost 
save  thee  I 

James.  By  his  illumination,  by  his  renovation, 
and  by  his  preservation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  You  are  to 
be  commended  for  thus  bringing  up  your  children. 
I  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 
next  youngest. 

Prud.  Then  she  said,  Come,  Joseph,  (for  his 
name  was  Joseph,)  will  you  let  me  catechise  you  1 

Joseph.  With  all  my  heart.  ^^^^^^  ^^^^^ 

Prud.  What  is  man  ]  chised. 

Joseph.  A  reasonable  creature,  so  made  by 
God,  as  my  brother  said. 


:^36  THE    CHILDREN    CATECHISED. 

Prud.  What  is  supposed  by  this  word,  saved  1 

Joseph.  That  man,  by  sin,  has  brought  him- 
self into  a  state  of  captivity  and  misery. 

Prud.  What  is  supposed  by  his  being  saved 
by  the  Trinity  1 

Joseph.  That  sin  js  so  gi-eat  and  mighty  a  ty 
rant  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  poor 
men] 

Joseph.  The  glorifying  of  his  name,  of  his 
grace,  and  justice,  &c.  and  the  everlasting  happi- 
ness of  his  creature. 

Prud.  Who  are  they  that  will  be  saved  ? 

Joseph.  They  that  accept  of  his  salvation. 

Prud.  Good  boy,  Joseph ;  thy  mother  hath 
taught  thee  well,  and  thou  hast  hearkened  unto 
what  she  has  said  unto  thee. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel,  who  was  the 
eldest  but  one  : 

Samuel  cate-       Prud.  Come,  Samuel,  are  you  will- 
chised.       j^g  |.jja,t  I  should  catechise  you*? 

Sam.  Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  please. 

Prud.  What  is  heaven"? 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  blessed,  because 
God  dwelleth  there. 

Pru.  Whatishein 

Sam.  a  place  and  state  most  woful,  because  it 
is  the  dwelling-place  of  sin,  the  devil,  and  death. 


THE    CHILDREN    CATECHISED.  337 

Prud.  Why  wouldst  thou  go  to  heaven  % 

Sam.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him  with- 
out weariness ;  that  I  may  see  Christ,  and  love  him 
everlastingly ;  that  I  may  have  that  fulness  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  in  me  which  I  can  by  no  means  here 
enjoy. 

Prud.  A  very  good  boy,  and  one  that  has 
learned  well. 

Then  she  addressed  herself  to  the  eldest,  whose 
name  was  Matthew ;  and  she  said  to   Matthew  cate- 
him,  Come,  Matthew,  shall  I  also  cate-         ^^^^"i- 
chise  you? 

Matt.  With  a  very  good  will. 

Prud.  I  ask  then,  if  there  was  ever  any  thing 
that  had  a  being  antecedent  to  or  before  God  I 

Matt.  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  ] 

Matt.  It  is  the  holy  word  of  God. 

Prud.  Is  there  nothing  written  therein  but 
what  you  understand  1 

Matt.  Yes,  a  gieat  deal. 

Prud.  What  do  you  do  when  you  meet  with 
places  therein  that  you  do  not  understand  1 

Matt.  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. 

Pil.  Progress.  22 


338  REMARKS    BY    PRUDENCE. 

Prud.  How  believe  you  as  touching  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead  1 

Matt.  I  believe  they  shall  rise  the  same  that 
was  buried;  the  same  in  nature,  though  not  in 
corruption.  And  I  believe  this  upon  a  double  ac- 
count :  first,  because  God  has  promised  it ;  second- 
ly, because  he  is  able  to  perform  it. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  the  boys,  You  must  still 
Pnidence's  con-  hearken  to  your  mother ;  for  she  can 
cSSSgJfthe  teach  you  more.  You  must  also  dili^ 
^"^^  gently  give  ear  to  what  good  talk  you 

shall  hear  from  others ;  for  your  sakes  do  they 
speak  good  things.  Observe  also,  and  that  with 
carefulness,  what  the  heavens  and  the  earth  do 
teach  you ;  but  especially  l^e  much  in  the  medita- 
tion of  that  book  which  was"* the  cause  of  your  fa- 
ther'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  pilgiims  had  been  at  this 
place  a  week,  Mercy  had  a  visiter  that  pretended 
Mercy  has  a   some  good  will  unto  her,  and  his  nam 

sweet-heart.  ^^^  jyj-^,^  Brisk ;  a  man  of  some  breed- 
ing, 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  her  ■ 


MERCY    HAS    A    SWEET-HEART.  3U^ 

self  in  doing ;  for  when  she  had  nothing  to  do  for 
herself,  she  would  be  making  hose  and  garments 
for  others,  and  would  bestow  them  upon  those  that 
had  need.  And  Mr.  Brisk  not  knowingr  where  or 
how  she  disposed  of  what  she  made,  seemed  to  be 
greatly  taken,  for  that  he  found  her  never  idle.  I 
-will  warrant  her  a  good  housewife,  quoth  he  to 
himself. 

Mercy  then  revealed  the  business  Mercy  inquires 
to  the  maidens  that  werr.  of  the  house,  cLcemiSlS 
and  inquired  of  them,  concerning  him,  ^"^'^• 
for  they  did  know  him  better  than  she.  So  they 
told  her  that  he  was  a  very  busy  young  man,  and 
one  who  pretended  to  religion,  but  was,  as  they 
feared,  a  stranger  to  the  power  of  that  which  is 
good. 

Nay  then,  said  Mercy,  I  will  look  no  more  on 
him  ;  for  I  purpose  never  to  have  a  clog  to  my  soul. 

Prudence  then  replied,  that  there  needed  no 
matter  of  great  discouragement  to  be  given  to  him  ; 
her  continuing:  so  as  she  had  beQ:un  to  do  for  the 
poor  would  quickly  cool  his  courage. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes  he  finds  her  at  her 
old  work,  makimr  things  for  the  po(n'. 

rni  -11  -?Tri        T      -,  ■    r,        Talk  betwlxt 

1  hen  said  he.  What !  always  at  it  j  Mercy  and  Mr. 
Yes,  said  she,  either  for  myself  or  for 
others.  And  what  canst  thou  earn  a  day  ]  said  he. 
I  do  these  things,  said  she,  that  I  may  be  rich  in 
good  works,  laying  up  in  store  for  myself  a  good 
foundation  against  the  time  to  come,  that  I  may 


340  MR.    BRISK    LEAVES    MERCY. 

lay  hold  on  eternal  life.  1  Tim.  6  :  17-19.  Why, 
He  forsakes  pr'ythee,  wliat  doest  thou  with  them  1 
her,  and  why.  g^-^  j^^^  Clothe  the  naked,  said  she. 
With  that  his  countenance  fell.  So  he  forbore  to 
come  at  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  1 
yea,  he  will  raise  up  an  ill  report  of  thee  ;  for,  not- 
Mercy,  in  withstanding  his  pretence  to  religion, 
merr^etecte^d  ^"^  ^^^  Seeming  lovo  to  Mercy,  yet 
while  Mercy  in    Mercv  and  he  are  of  tempers  so  dif- 

tne    name     of  •'  .  •••       . 

Mercy  is  uked.  ferent  that  I  believe  they  will  never 
come  together. 

Mer.  I  might  have  had  husbands  before  now, 
though  I  spoke  not  of  it  to  any  ;  but  they  were 
such  as  did  not  like  my  conditions,  though  never 
did  any  of  them  find  fault  with  my  person.  So  they 
and  I  could  not  agi'ee. 

Prud.  Mercy  in  our  days  is  but  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. 

Mer.  Well,  said  Mercy,  if  nobody  will  have  me, 
I  will  die  unmarried,  or  my  conditions  shall  be  to 
Mercy's  resoiu-  ^^^  ^s  a  husbaud  :  for  I  cannot  change 
tion.  ^y  nature  :  and  to  have  one  who  lies 

cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose  never  to  admit 
of  as  long  as  I  live.  I  had  a  sister  named  Bountiful, 


MATTHEW    FALLS    SICK.  341 

that  was  married  to  one  of  these  churls,  How  Mercy's 
but  he  and  she  could  never  agi'ee;  but  e?bylierS 
because  my  sister  was  resolved  to  do  ^^^' 
as  she  had  begun,  that  is,  to  show  kindness  to  the 
poor,  therefore  her  husband  first  cried  her  down 
at  the  cross,  and  then  turned  her  out  of  his  doors 

Prud.  And  yet  he  was  a  professor,  I  waiTanl 
you"? 

Mer.  Yes,  such  a  one  as  he  was,  and  of  such 
as  he  the  world  is  now  full  :  but  I  am  for  none  ot 
them  all. 

Now  Matthew,  the  eldest  son  of  Christiana,  fell 
sick,  and  his  sickness  was  sore  upon  Matthew  faUs 
him,  for  he  was  much  pained  in  his         "'^^• 
bowels,  so  that  he  was  with  it  at  times  pulled,  as 
it  were,  both  ends  together.    There  dwelt  also  not 
far  from  thence  one  Mr.  Skill,  an  ancient  and  well- 
approved  physician.    So  Chi'istiana  desired  it,  and 
they  sent  for  him,  and  he  came.    When  he  was 
entered  the  room,  and  had  a  little  ob-   Gripes  of  con- 
served the  boy,  he  concluded  that  he       science, 
was  sick  of  the  gripes.     Then  he  said  to  his  mother. 
What  diet  has  Matthew  of  late  fed  upon  ]  Diet ! 
said  Christiana,  nothing  but  what  is  wholesome. 
The  physician  answered,  This  boy  has  been  tam- 
pering with  something  that  lies  in  his   The  physician's 
stomach  undigested,  and  that  will  not     Judgment 
away  without  means.    And  I  tell  you  he  must  be 
purged,  or  else  he  will  die. 

Sam.  Then  said  Samuel,  Mother,  what  waa  that 


342  MATTHEW    IS    SICK. 

Samuel  puts  his   wliicli  my  brother  did  gather  up  and 

mother  in  mind  ,  r  .^i 

of  the  fruit  his   ^^^^  '^s  soon  as  WG  were  come  irom  the 

brother  did  eat.     g^^^  ^^^^    ig  ^^    ^I^q    ^^^^^    of  j-l^Jg    ^^y  ] 

You  know  that  lliere  was  an  orchard  on  the  left 
hand,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  and  some  of 
the  trees  hung  over  the  wall,  and  my  brother  did 
pluck  and  eat. 

Chr.  True,  my  child,  said  Christiana,  he  did 
take  thereof  and  did  eat :  naughty  boy  as  he  was, 
T  chid  him,  and  yet  he  would  eat  thereof. 

Skill.  I  knew  he  had  eaten  something  that  was 
not  wholesome  food  ;  and  that  food,  to  wit,  that 
fruit,  is  even  the  most  hurtful  of  all.  It  is  the  fruit 
of  Beelzebub's  orchard.  I  do  marvel  that  none 
did  warn  you  of  it;  many  have  died  thereof. 

Chr.  Then  Christiana  began  to  cry ;  and  she 
said,  Oh,  naughty  boy  !  and  Oh,  careless  mother  ! 
what  shall  I  do  for  my  son  1 

Skill.  Come,  do  not  be  too  much  dejected ; 
the  boy  may  do  well  again,  but  he  must  purge  and 
vomit. 

Chr.  Pray,  sir,  try  the  utmost  of  your  skill 
with  him,  whatever  it  costs. 

Skill.  Nay,  I  hope  I  shall  be  icasonable.  So 
he  made  him  a  purge,  but  it  was  too  weak ;  it  was 
said  't  was  made  of  the  blood  of  a  goat,  the  ashes 
of  a  heifer,  and  some  of  the  juice  o-^  hyssop.  Heb. 
9  :  13,  19  ;  10  :  1-4.  When  Mr.  Skill  had  seen 
that  that  purge  was  too  weak,  he  made  one  to 
the   purpose.     It  was  made  ex  came  et  sanguine 


MEDICINE    BY    MR.    SKILL.  343 

Ch?-isti*  John,  6  :  54-57  ;  Heb.  9  :  14;  The  Latin  i 
(you  know  physicians  give  strange  me- 
dicines to  their  patients  ;)  and  it  was  made  into 
pills,  with  a  promise  or  two,  and  a  proportionable 
quantity  of  salt.  Mark,  9  :  49.  Now  he  was  to  take 
them  three  at  a  time,  fasting,  in  half  a  quarter  of 
a  pint  of  the  tears  of  repentance.  Zech.  12  :  10. 
When  this  potion  was  prepared,  and  brought  to 
the  boy,  ho  was  loth  to  take  it,  though  The  boy  loth  to 
torn  with  the  gripes  as  if  he  should  be  take  the  physic, 
pulled  in  pieces.  Come,  come,  said  the  physician, 
you  must  take  it.  It  goes  against  my  stomach,  said 
the  boy.  I  must  have  you  take  it,  said  his  mother. 
I  shall  vomit  it  up  again,  said  the  boy.  Pray,  sir, 
said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Skill,  how  does  it  taste  1  It 
has  no  ill  taste,  said  the  doctor ;  and  with  that  she 
touched  one  of  the  pills  \vith  the  tip  of 

,  -,-       T,V       1  -11  The  mother 

her  tongue.  Oh,  Matthew,  said  she,  tastes  it  and  per 
this  potion  is  sweeter  than  honey.  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  to  rest  quietly :  it  put  him  into  a 
fine  heat  and  breathing  sweat,  and  did  quite  rid  him 
of  his  gripes.  So  in  a  little  time  he  got  a  v/ord  of  God 
up,  and  walked  about  with  a  staff,  and  faith. 


*  Of  the  flesh  and  blood  of  Christ 


344  MATTHEW    RESTORED. 

would  go  from  room  to  room,  and  talk  with  Pru- 
dence, Piety,  and  Charity,  of  his  distemper,  and 
how  he  was  healed. 

So  when  the  boy  was  healed,  Christiana  asked 
Air.  Skill,  saying.  Sir,  what  will  content  you  for 
your  pains  and  care  to  and  of  my  child  1  And  he 
said,  You  must  pay  the  Master  of  the  College  of 
Physicians;  Heb.  13  :  11-15;  according  to  rules 
made  in  that  case  and  provided. 

Chr.  But,  sir,  said  she,  what  is  this  pill  good 
for  else  1 

Skill.  It  is  a  universal  pill ;  it  is  good  against 
all  the  diseases  that  pilgrims  are  inci- 
versarremedy!  ^eut  to  ;  and  when  it  is  well  prepared 
it  will  keep  good,  time  out  of  mind. 

Chr.  Pray,  sir,  make  me  up  twelve  boxes  ofthem ; 
for  if  I  can  get  these  I  will  never  take  other  physic. 

Skill.  These  pills  are  good  to  prevent  dis- 
eases, as  well  as  to  cure  when  one  is  sick.  Yea, 
I  dare  say  it,  and  stand  to  it,  that  if  a  man  will  but 
use  this  physic  as  he  should,  it  will  make  him  live 
for  ever.  John,  6  :  51.  But,  good  Christiana,  thou 
must  give  these  pills  no  other  way  but  as  I  have 
prescribed  ;  for  if  you  do,  they  will  do  no  good. 
So  he  gave  unto  Christiana  physic  for  herself,  and 
her  boys,  and  for  Mercy  :  and  bid  Matthew  take 
heed  how  he  ate  any  more  green  plumbs,  and 
kissed  them,  and  went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before,  that  Prudence  bid  the 
boys,  that  if  at  any  time  they  would,  they  should 


THE    UNIVERSAL    PILL.  345 

ask  her  some  questions  that  might  be  profitable, 
and  she  would  say  something  to  them. 

Matt.  Then    Matthew,    who   had   been   sick, 
asked  her,  why  for  the  most  part  phy- 
SIC   should    be    bitter  to   our  palates. 

Prud.  To  show  how  unwelcome  the  word  of 
God  and  the  effects  thereof  are  to  a  carnal  heart. 

Matt.  Why  does  physic,  if  it  does  good, 
purge,  and  cause  to  vomit  ] 

Prud.  To  show  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. 

Matt.  What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the 
flame  of  our  fire  go  upward,  and  by 
seeing:  the  beams  and  sweet  influences   ^^ ^^'  ^^  "^ 

o  the  sun. 

of  the  sun  strike  downward  ] 

Prud.  By  the  going  up  of  the  fire  we  are 
taught  to  ascend  to  heaven  by  fervent  and  hot  de- 
sires. And  by  the  sun  sending  his  heat,  beams, 
and  9weet  influences  downward,  we  are  taught 
that  the  Savior  of  the  world,  though  high,  reaches 
down  with  his  grace  and  love  to  us  below. 

Matt.  Whence   have    the   clouds 

-     .  -  Of  the   clouds. 

their  water  i 

Prud.  Out  of  the  sea. 

Matt.  What  may  we  learn  from  that  1 

Prud.  That  ministers  should  fetch  their  doc- 
trine from  God. 

Matt.  Why  do  they  emptj  themselves  upon 
the  earth  1 


34G  PRUDENCE    AND    MATTHEW. 

Prud.  To  show  that  ministers  should  give  out 
what  they  know  of  God  to  the  world. 

Matt.  Why  is  the  rainbow  caused 

Ofthe  rainbow. 

by  the  sun  i 
Prud.  To  show  that   the   covenant  of  God's 
grace  is  confirmed  to  us  in  Christ. 

Matt.  Why  do  the  springs  come 

Of  the  springs.     „  ,  i  i       i  in 

from  the  sea  to  us  through  the  earth  i 
Prud.  To  show  that  the  grace  of  God  comes 
to  us  through  the  body  of  Christ. 

Matt.  Why  do  some  of  the  springs  rise  out 
of  the  tops  of  high  hills  ] 

Prud.  To  show  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. 

Matt.  Why  doth    the    fire    fasten 

Of  the  candle,  .  .,/        •    i    o 

upon  the  candle-wick  { 

Prud.  To  show  that  unless  grace  doth  kin- 
dle upon  the  heart  there  will  be  no  true  light  of 
life  in  us. 

Matt.  Why  are  the  wick,  and  tallow  and  all, 
spent  to  maintain  the  light  of  the  candle  ? 

Prud.  To  show  that  body  and  soul,  and  all, 
should  be  at  the  service  of,  and  spend  themselves 
to  maintain  in  good  condition  that  grace  of  God 
that  is  in  us. 

Matt.  Why  doth  the  pelican  pierco 

Of  the  peUcan.    ,  ,  •  i    i         i  mi  /i 

her  own  breast  with  her  bill  i 
Prud.  To  nourish  her  young  ones  with  her 
blood,  and  thereby  to  show  that  Christ  the  blessed 


REQUEST    FOR   GREAT-HEART.  347 

SO  loved  his  young,  (his  people,)  as  to  save  them 
from  death  by  his  blood. 

Matt.   What   may   one   learn    by 

,  •'         ^  "^        Of  the  cock. 

hearmg  the  cock  to  crow  i 

Prud.  Learn  to  remember  Peter's  sin,  and 
Peter's  repentance.  The  cock's  crowing  shows 
also,  that  day  is  coming  on :  let,  then,  the  crowing 
of  the  cock  put  thee  in  mind  of  that  last  and  ter- 
rible day  of  judgment. 

Now  about  this  time  their  month  was  out ; 
wherefore  they  signified  to  those  of  the  house, 
that  it  was  convenient  for  them  to  up  and  be  go- 
ing. Then  said  Joseph  to  his  mother.  It  is  proper 
that  you  forget  not  to  send  to  the 
house  of  Mr.  Interpreter,  to  pray  him  somt^times^au 
to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should  Jj^-^yi?"^  '° 
be  sent  unto  us,  that  he  may  be  our 
conductor  for  the  rest  of  the  way.  Good  boy,  said 
she,  I  had  almost  forgot.  So  she  drew  up  a  peti- 
tion, 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  contents  of  the  petition,  said  to  the  messenger, 
Go,  tell  them  that  I  will  send  him. 

When  the  family  where  Christiana  was  saw  that 
tliey  had  a  purpose  to  go  forward,  they  ^^^^  ^^^^^^ 
called  the  whole  house  together,  to  ffive   to  ^e  gone  on 

,  their  way. 

thanks  to  their  King  for  sending  of  them 

such  profitable  guests  as  these.    Which  done,  they 

said  unto  Christiana,  And  shall  we  not  show  thee 


348  THE    SIGHTS    SHOWN 

something  as  our  custom  is  to  do  to  pilgrims,  on 

which  thou  raayest  meditate  when  thou  art  upon 

the  way  ]     So  they  took  Christiana,  her  children, 

and  Mercy,  into  the  closet,  and  showed 

them  one  of  the  apples  that  Eve  ate  of, 

and  that  she  also  did  give  to  her  husband,  and  that 

for  the  eating  of  which  they  were  both  turned  out 

of  paradise,  and  asked  her  what  she  thought  that 

was.     Then  Christiana  said,  It  is  food  or  poison,  I 

A  sight  of  sin   know  uot  which.    So  they  opened  the 

IS  amazing.      matter  to  her,  and  she  held  up   her 

hands  and  wondered.     Gen.  3:6;    Rom.  7  :  24. 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  place  and  showed  her 

Jacob's  ladder.  Gen.  28  :  12.    Now  at 

Jacob's  ladder. 

that  time  there  were  some  angels  as- 
cending upon  it.  So  Christiana  looked  and  looked 
to  see  the  angels  go  up ;  so  did  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany. Then  they  were  going  into  another  place, 
to  show  them  something  else ;  but  James  said  to 
A  sight  of  Christ  liis  mother.  Pray  bid  them  stay  here  a 
IS  taking.  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  v^here  did 

hang  up  a  golden  anchor.    So  they  bid 

Golden  anchor.     ^^     .     .  i       •     i  r-  '  -,     ■, 

Christiana  take  it  down ;  for,  said  they, 
You  shall  have  it  with  you,  for  it  is  of  absolute 
necessity  that  you  should,  that  you  may  lay  hold 
of  that  within  the  vail ;  Heb.  6:19;  and  stand 
steadfast  in  case  you  should  meet  with  turbulent 


TO    THE    PILGRIMS.  349 

weather;  Joel,  3  :  16 ;  so  they  were  glad  thereof. 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  the  mount 
upon  which  Abraham  our  father  offered  of  Abraiiam  of- 
up  Isaac  his  son,  and  showed  them  the  fering  up  Isaac. 
altar,  the  wood,  the  fire,  and  the  knife,  for  they 
remain  to  be  seen  to  this  very  day.  Gen.  22  :  9. 
iWhen  the^  had  seen  it,  they  held  up  their  hands, 
iand  blessed  themselves,  and  said.  Oh  !  what  a  man 
ifor  love  to  his  Master,  and  for  denial  to  himself, 
was  Abraham ! 

After  they  had  showed  them  all  these  things, 
Prudence  took  them  into  a  dining-  Prudence's  vir- 
room,  where  stood  a  pair  of  excellent  finals, 
virginals;*  so  she  played  upon  them,  and  turned 
what  she  had  showed  them  into  this  excellent 
song,  saying. 

Eve's  apple  we  have  showed  you  ; 

Of  that  be  you  aware: 
You  have  seen  Jacob's  ladder  too, 

Upon  which  angels  are. 
An  anchor  you  received  have  ; 

But  let  not  these  suffice, 
Until  with  Abra'm  you  have  gave 

Your  best  a  sacrifice. 

Now  about  this  time  one  knocked  at  the  door. 
So  the  Porter  opened,  and  behold,  Mr.    ^r.  creat-heait 
Great-heart  was  there:  but  when  he     comes  again, 
was  come  in,  what  joy  was  there  !    For  it  came  now 
afresh  again  into  their  minds  how  but  a  while  ago 

*A  musical  instrument. 


350  THE    PILGRIMS    GO    ON. 

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  eaqli  of  you 

He  bmigs  a  •'  •'  *' 

token  from  his   a  bottle  of  wino,  and  also  some  parched 

Lord  with  him.  i  •  i  p 

corn,  together  with  a  couple  of  pome- 
granates :  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  to  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 
King's  highway  as  you  go.  But,  said  he,  the  thieves  - 
are  taken,  and  will  shortly  be  tried  for  their  lives. 
Then  Christiana  and  Mercy  were  afraid ;  but  Mat- 
thew 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 

Christiana  takes    ^^^^'^  ^^^^^^^^  t<^  ^^U  for    all   the  kind- 

her  leave  of  the   nesses   that  you  have  showed  to  me 

Porter.  .  '' 

since  I  came  hither  ;  and  also  for  that 
you  have  been  so  loving  and  kind  to  my  children. 
I  know  not  how  to  gratify  your  kindness  ;  where- 
fore, pray,  as  a  token  of  my  respect  to  you,  accept 
of  this  small  mite.    So  she  put  a  gold  angel*  in  his 


*A  gold  angel  was  a  coin  of  the  value  of  ten  shillings  sterling, 
and  according  to  the  comparative  value  of  money  in  Bunyan's 
time,  equal  at  least  to  a  guinea  at  the  present  time. 


THE    BIRDS    SINGING.  351 

baud ;  and  he  made  her  low  obeisance,  and  said, 
*•  Let  thy  garments  be  always  white  ;  rj.^^  porter's 
and  let  thy  head  want  no  ointment."  blessing. 
Eccles.  9  :  8.  Let  Mercy  live  and  not  die,  and  let 
not  her  works  be  few.  Deut.  33  :  G.  And  to  the 
boys  he  said,  Do  you  fly  youthfiil  lusts,  and  follow 
after  godliness  with  them  that  are  grave  and  wise  ; 
2  Tim.  2  :  22 ;  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. 


QL\)e  i^iftl)  Stage. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they  went  forward 
until  they  were  come  to  the  brow  of  the  hill ;  where 
Piety  bethinking  herself,  cried  out,  Alas !  I  have  for- 
got 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 
rifrlit  hand,  a  most  curious  melodious  note,  with 
vvoids  much  like  these  : 

Through  all  my  life  thy  favor  is 

So  frankly  show'd  to  me, 
That  ill  thy  house  for  evermore 

My  dwelling-placo  shall  be. 


352  piety's  present. 

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  firmly  stood, 

And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure. 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence  who  it  was  that 
made  those  curious  notes.  Song,  2  :  11,  12.  They 
are,  answered  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  desirable  to  be  in. 

By  this  time  Piety  was  come  again.    So  she 
Piety  bestow-   Said  to  Christiana,  Look  here,  I  have 
onVeratpS  brought   thee   a  scheme  of  all  those 
ing-  things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our  house, 

upon  which  thou  mayest  look  when  thou  findest 
thyself  forgetful,  and  call  those  things  again  to  re- 
membrance 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  was  slippery  ;  but  they  were  very  care- 
ful ;  so  they  got  down  pretty  well.  When  they 
were  down  in  the  valley,  Piety  said  to  Christiana, 


ir 


VALLEY    OF    HUMILIATION.  353 

This  is  the  place  wliere  Christian,  your  husband, 
met  with  the  foul  fiend  Apollyon,  and  wliere  they 
had  that  dreadful  fight  that  they  had  :  I  know  you 
cannot  but  have  heard  thereof.  But  be  of  jjood 
courage ;  as  long  as  you  have  here  Mr.  Great- 
heart  to  be  your  guide  and  conductor  we  hope 
you  will  fare  the  better.  So  when  these  two  had 
committed  the  pilgrims  unto  the  conduct  of  their 
guide  he  went  forward,  and  they  went  after. 

Great.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  We  need 
not  be  so  afraid  of  this  valley,  for  here    ,,  ^ 

•^  Mr.  Great-heart 

is  nothino;'  to  hurt  us,  unless  we  pro-   at  the  Vaiiey  of 

.  /-n     •         Humiliation. 

cure  It  to  ourselves.  It  is  true.  Chris- 
tian did  here  meet  with  Apollyon,  with  whom  he 
also  had  a  sore  combat :  but  that  fray  was  the  fruit 
of  those  slips  which  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, 
when  ihey  hear  that  some  fi'ightful  thing  has  be- 
fallen such  a  one  in  such  a  place,  are  of  opinion 
that  that  place  is  haunted  with  some  foul  fiend  or 
evil  spirit ;  when,  alas  !  it  is  for  the  fruit  of  their 
own  doinff  that  such  thinors  do  befall 

°  °  .  .      .  The  reason 

them  there.  This  Valley  of  Humiliation   why  christian 

n  '        ir'         n      '   t*  I  ^  "L        '"'^^  ^°  beset  in 

IS  of  itselt  as  rruittul  a  place  as  any  the   the  vaiiey  o( 

„.  -,    -r  11      HumiUation 

crow  flies  over  :   and  1  am  persuaded, 
if  we  could  hit  upon  it,  we  might  find  somewhere 
hereabout  something  that  might  give  us  an  account 
why  Christian  was  so  hardly  beset  in  this  place. 

Pil.  Progresj.  23 


354  VALLEY    OF    HUMILIATION. 

Then  said  James  to  his  mother,  Lo,  yonder 
stands  a  pillar,  and  it  looks  as  if  something  was 
written  thereon  ;  let  us  go  and  see  what  it  is.  So 
they  went,  and  found  there  written,  "  Let  Chris- 
A  pillar  with  an  tiau's  slips  before  he  came  hither,  and 
inscription  on  it.  ^he  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  something  hereabouts  that  would  give  intima- 
tion of  the  reason  why  Christian  was  so  bard  be- 
set in  this  place  1  Then  turning  himself  to  Chris- 
tiana, he  said.  No  disparagement  to  Christian 
more  than  to  any  others  whose  hap  and  lot  it  was. 
For  it  is  easier  going  up  than  down  this  hill,  and 
that  can  be  said  but  of  few  hills  in  all  these  parts 
of  the  world.  But  we  will  leave  the  good  man ; 
he  is  at  rest :  he  also  had  a  brave  victory  ovei 
his  enemy.  Let  Him  grant,  that  dwelleth  above, 
that  we  fare  no  worse,  when  we  come  to  be  tried, 
than  he. 

But  we  will  come  again  to  this  Valley  of  Hu- 
This  valley  a  filiation.  It  is  the  best  and  most 
brave  place,  fruitful  piece  of  ground  in  all  these 
parts.  It  is  fat  ground,  and  as  you  see,  consisteth 
much  in  meadows  ;  and  if  a  man  was  to  come  here 
in  the  summer-time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he  knew  not 
any  thing  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  delighted 
himself  in  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  he  might  see  that 
which  would  be  delightful  to  him.  Behold  how 
green  this  valley  is  ;  also  how  beautiful  with  lilies 


shepherd's  bo^  singing.  355 

Song,  2:1.  I  have  known  many  laboring  men 
that  have  got  good  estates  in  this  Valley  of  Hu- 
miliation ;  for  God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  giveth 
..     v  •     ■       ffrace  to  the  humble.  James,  4:6:1 

Men  thnve  in      o  >  j     -^ 

the  Valley  of     Pet.  5 :  5.     Indeed  it  is  a  very  fruitful 

Humiliation.  i    i      i     i     •         r» 

soil,  and  doth  bring  forth  by  handfuls. 
Some  also  have  wished  that  the  next  way  to  theii 
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  is 
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  clothes,  but  of  a  fresh  and  well- 
favored  countenance  ;  and  as  he  sat  by  himself  he 
sung.  Hark,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  to  what  the 
shepherd's  boy  saith.  So  they  hearkened,  and  ho 
said, 

He  that  is  down,  needs  fear  no  fall ; 

He  that  is  low,  no  pride ; 
He  that  is  humble,  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  gTiide. 

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  beat  from  age  to  age. 


356  CHRIST'S    COUNTRY-HOUSE. 

Then  said  the  guide,  Do  you  hear  him  1  I  will 
dare  to  say  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears 
more  of  that  herb  called  heart's-case  in  his  bosom, 
than  he  that  is  clad  in  silk  and  velvet.  But  we 
will  proceed  in  our  discourse. 

Tn  this  valley  our  Lord  formerly  had  his  coun 

try  house  :  he  loved  much  to  be  here. 

in  the  ^flesh   He  loved  also  to  walk  these  meadows, 

^yious^Tn   for  l^e  found  the  air  was  pleasant.    Be- 

the  Valley  of  gi Jes,  here  a  man  shall  be  free  from 

Humiliation.  ' 

the  noise,  and  from  the  huiTyings  of 
this  life  :  all  states  are  full  of  noise  and  confusion  ; 
only  the  Valley  of  Humiliation  is  that  empty  and 
solitary  place.  Here  a  man  shall  not  be  so  let  and 
hindered  in  his  contemplation  as  in  other  places  he 
is  apt  to  be.  This  is  a  valley  that  nobody  walks 
in  but  those  that  love  a  pilgrim's  life.  And  though 
Christian  had  the  hard  hap  to  meet  here  with 
Apollyon,  and  to  enter  with  him  in  a  brisk  en- 
counter, yet  I  must  tell  you,  that  in  former  times 
men  have  met  with  angels  here ;  Hos.  12  :  4,  5  ; 
have  found  pearls  here ;  Matt.  13  :  46 ;  and  have 
in  this  place  found  the  words  of  life.  Prov.  8 :  35. 
Did  I  say  our  Lord  had  here  in  former  days  hia 
country-house,  and  that  he  loved  here  to  walk  1  I 
will  add : — in  this  place,  and  to  the  people  thai 
love  and  trace  these  grounds,  he  has  left  a  yearly 
revenue  to  be  faithfully  paid  them  at  certain  sea- 
sons, for  their  maintenance  by  the  way,  and  for  their 
further  encouragement  to  go  on  in  their  pilgi'image. 


FORGETFUL    GREEN.  35? 

Sam.  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  where- 
about was  the  fight  1  for  I  perceive  this  valley  is 
large. 

(iREAT.  Your  father  had  the  battle  with  Apol- 
lyon at  a  place  yonder  t)efore  us,  in  a  narrow  pas- 
sao^e,    iust    beyond  Fororetful  Green. 

.°.     .     .       J      1  ,         °.        -,  Forgetful  Green. 

And  indeed  that  place  is  the  most 
dangerous  place  in  all  these  parts.  For  if  at  any 
time  pilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt,  it  is  when  they 
forget  what  favors  they  have  received,  and  how 
unworthy  they  are  of  them.  This  is  the  place 
also  where  others  have  been  hard  put  to  it.  But 
more  of  the  place  when  we  are  come  to  it ;  for  I 
persuade  myself,  that  to  this  day  there  remains 
either  some  sign  of  the  battle  or  some  monument 
to  testify  that  such  a  battle  there  was  fought. 

Mer.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  I  am  as  well  in 
this  valley  as  I  have  been  any  where  Humility  a 
else  in  all  our  journey  :  the  place,  me-  ^'^^^^  ^^^^• 
thinks,  suits  with  my  spirit.  I  love  to  be  in  such 
places,  where  there  is  no  rattling  with  coaches, 
nor  rumbling  with  wheels.  Methinks,  here  one 
may,  without  much  molestation,  be  thinking  what 
he  is,  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  as  the  fishpools  in  Hesh 
bon.    Song,  7:4.     They  that  go  rightly  through 


358  THE    PLACE    WHERE 

this  valley  of  Baca,  make  it  a  well ;  the  rain  that 
God  sends  down  from  heaven  upon  them  that  are 
here,  also  fiUeth  the  pools.  This  valley  is  that  from 
whence  also  the  King  will  give  to  his  their  vine- 
yards, and  they  that  go  through  it  shall  sing,  as 
Christian  did,  for  all  he  met  with  Apollyon.  Psalr 
84  :  5-7  ;  Hos.  2  :  15. 

Great.  'Tis  true,  said  their  guide ;  I  have  gone 
An  experimeut   through  this  valley  many  a  time,  and 

upon  It.  never  was  better  than  when  here.  I 
have  also  been  a  conductor  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  trembleth  at  my  word." 
Isa.  66  :  2. 

Now  they  were  come  to  the  jolace  where  the 
aforementioned  battle  was  fought.  Then  said  the 
guide  to  Christiana,  her  children,  and  Mercy,  This 
Thepiace  where  ^s  the  place  ;  on  this  ground  Christian 
Christian  and  the    stood,  and  UD  there  Came  Apollyon 

fiend  did  fight.  ,  ■'■  r       j 

against  him.  And,  look,  did  I  not  tell 
you  1  here  is  some  of  your  husband's  blood  upon 
these  stones  to  this  day.  Behold,  also,  how  here 
and  there  are  yet  to  be  seen  upon  the  place  some 
of  the  shivers  of  Apollyon's  broken  darts.  See 
also  how  they  did  beat  the  gi'ound  with  their  feet 
Some  signs  of  the  ^^  they  fought,  to  make  good  their 
battle  remain,  p^^es  against  each  other ;  how  also 
with  their  by-blows  they  did  split  the  very  stones 
in  pieces.  Verily,  Christian  did  here  play  the  man, 


CHRISTIAN    FOUGHT.  359 

and  showed  himself  as  stout  as  Hercules  could,  had 
he  been  here,  even  he  himself.  When  Apollyon 
was  beat,  he  m^jle  his  retreat  to  the  next  valley, 
that  is  called  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
unto  which  we  shall  come  anon.  Lo,  yonder  also 
stand*  a  monument  on  which  is  engra-     . 

1  y-ii     .     •  .  A  monument 

ven  this  battle,  and  Christian  s  victory,     of  christian  s 
to   his  fame  throughout  all  ages.    So 
because  it  stood  just  on  the  v^ay-side  before  them, 
they  stepped  to  it,  and  read  the  writing,  which 
word  for  word  was  this  : 

Hard  by  here  was  a  battle  fought, 
Most  strange,  and  yet  most  true; 

Christian  and  Apollyon  sought 
Each  other  to  subdue. 

The  man  so  bravely  play'd  the  man, 

He  made  the  fiend  to  fly; 
Of  which  a  monument  I  stand. 

The  same  to  testify. 

When  they  had  passed  by  this  place  they  came 
upon  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death.  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  daylight, 
and  because  Mr.  Great-heart  was  their  conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  valley  they 
thought  they  heard  a  groaning  as  of  ^^^^^^  ^^^^ 
dying    mm  ;   a  very  great  groaning. 


360  THE    VALLEY    OF    THE 

They  thought  also  that  tliey  did  hear  words  of  lam- 
entation, spoken  as  of  some  in  extreme  torment. 
These  things  made  the  boys  to  quake ;  the  women 
also  looked  pale  and  wan  ;  but  their  guide  bid  theui 
be  of  good  comfort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they  thought 

The  ground  ^^^^  ^^^J  ^^^^  ^^6  grouud  begin  to  shake 
shakes.  under  them,  as  if  some  hollow  place 
was  there  :  they  heard  also  a  kind  of  hissing,  as 
of  serpents,  but  nothing  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. 

Now  James  began  to  be  sick ;  but  1  think  the 
James  sick  with    cause  thereof  was  fear:  so  his  mother 
fear.  gave  him  some  of  that  glass  of  spirits 

that  had  been  given  her  at  the  Interpreter's  house, 
and  three  of  the  pills  that  Mr  Skill  had  prepared, 
and  the  boy  began  to  revive.  Thus  they  went  on 
till  they  came  to  about  the  middle  of  the  valley ; 
and  then  Christiana  said,  Methinks  I  see  something 
yonder  upon  the  road  before  us,  a  thing  of  a  shape 

The  fiend  ap-     such  as  I  have  not  seen.     Then  said 

pears.  Joseph,  Mother,  what  is  it  1    An  ugly 

thing,  child  ;   an  ugly  thing,  said  she.    But,  mother, 

what  is  it  like]  said  he.     'Tis  like  I  cannot  tell 

The piigi-ims     what.  Said  she;  and  now  it  is  but  a 

are  afraid.        y^^^^^  ^^^  ^^_    rpj^^^  ^^.^  ^^^^  j^  .^  ^.^^^^ 

Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  let  them  that  are 


SHADOW    OF    DEATH.  3G1 

most  afraid  keep  close  to  me.  So  the  fiend  came 
on,  and  the  conductor  met  it ;  but  Great-heart  en- 
when  it  was  just  come  to  him  it  van-  ^ourages^hem. 
ished  to  all  their  sights.  Then  remembered  they 
what  had  been  said  some  time  ago,  "  Resist  tlie 
devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you."  James,  4  :  7. 

They  went  therefore  on,  as  being  a  little  re- 
freshed. But  they  had  not  gone  far  before  Mercy, 
hjokinor  behind  her,  saw,  as  she  thouoht, 
somethmg  most  like  a  lion,  and  it  came  at 
a  great  padding  pace  after ;  and  it  had  a  hollow  voice 
of  roaring :  and  at  every  roar  it  gave,  it  made  the 
valley  echo,  and  all  their  hearts  to  ache,  save  ihe 
lieart  of  him  thai  was  their  guide.  So  it  came  up, 
and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  behind,  and  put  the  pih 
grims  all  before  him.  The  lion  also  came  on  apace, 
and  Mr.  Great-heart  addressed  himself  to  give  him 
battle.  1  Pet.  5  :  8,  9.  But  when  he  saw  that  it 
was  determined  that  resistance  should  be  made,  ho 
also  drew  back,  and  came  no  further. 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  conductor 
went  before  them,  till  they  came  to  a  place  where 
was  cast  up  a  pit  the  whole  breadth 
of  the  way  ;  and  before  they  could  be  "^  ^^^tis/"''' 
prepared  to  go  over  that,  a  great  mist 
raid  a  dai'kness  fell  upon  them,  so  that  they  could 
not  see.  Then  said  the  pilgrims,  Alas  !  what  now 
shall  we  do  1  But  their  guide  made  answer,  Fear 
not,  stand  still,  and  see  what  an  end  will  be  put  to 
tills  also  :  so  they  stayed  there,  because  their  path 


362  THE    VALLEY    OF    THE 

was  marred.  They  then  also  thought  that  they  did 
hear  more  apparently  the  noise  and  rushing  of  the 
enelnies ;  the  fire  also,  and  smoke  of  the  pit,  were 
much  easier  to  be  discerned.  Then  said  Chris- 
„,  .  ^  tiana  to  Mercy,  Now  I  see  what  my 

Christiana  now  ./ '  j 

knows  what   poor  husband  went  through.    I  have 

her  husband    |  i        n    i  •         i  f        t 

felt.  heard  much  oi  this  place,  but  I  nevei 

was  here  before  now.  Poor  man  !  he  went  here  all 
alone  in  the  night;  he  had  night  almost  quite 
through  the  way ;  also  these  fiends  were  busy 
about  him,  as  if  they  would  have  torn  him  in 
pieces.  Many  have  spoken  of  it ;  but  none  can  tell 
wlmt  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  should 
mean  until  they  come  in  themselves.  The  heart 
knoweth  its  own  bitterness ;  and  a  stranger  inter- 
meddleth  not  with  its  joy.  Prov.  14  :  10.  To  be 
here  is  a  fearful  thing. 

Great.  This  is  like  doing  business  in  great 
waters,  or  like  going  down  into  the  deep.  This  is 
like  being  in  the  heart  of  the  sea,  and  like  going 
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.  Isa.  50  :  10.  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  my 
own  savior;  but  I  trust  we  shall  have  a  good  deli- 


SHADOW    OF    DEATH.  363 

verance.  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  deliverance,  for  there  was  now  no 

1        .        1      •  1  1  They  pray. 

let  m  their  way  :  no,  not  there,  where 
but  now  they  were  stopped  with  a  pit.  Yet  they 
were  not  got  through  the  valley.  So  they  went  on 
still,  and  met  with  great  stinks  and  loathsome 
smells,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  them.  Then 
said  Mercy  to  Christiana,  It  is  not  so  pleasant  be- 
ing 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  here  as  it  is  to  abide  here 
always;  and   for   aught  I  know,  one   bo^rrepiies! 
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  I  ever  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  1  Then  said 
the  guide,  Look  to  your  feet,  for  we  shall  present- 
ly 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 


364  GIANT    MAUL. 

the  snares  they  espied  a  man  cast  into  the  ditch  on 
the  left  hand,  with  his  flesh  all  rent 
slain,  and Tak?-  ^^^1  torn.  Then  Said  the  guide,  that  is 
heed  preserv-  ^^^^  Heedless,  that  was  going  this 
way  :  he  has  lain  there  a  great  while. 
There  was  one  Take-heed  with  him  when  he  was 
taken  and  slain ;  but  he  escaped  their  hands.  You 
cannot  imagine  how  many  are  killed  hereabouts, 
and  yet  men  are  so  foolishly  venturous  as  to  set 
out  lightly  on  pilgrimage,  and  to  come  without  a 
guide.  Poor  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  never  have  done  it. 

Now  they  drew  toward  the  end  of  this  way; 

and  just  there  where  Christian  had  seen  the  cave 

when  he  went  by,    out   thence  came 

Maul,   a    giant,     n       ^      -\/r       i  •  mi  '       i\t       t     t  i 

quaiTcia    with   torth  Maui,  a  giant.     1  his  Maul  did 

Great-heart.  ^  •-,  m       •  -.i 

use  to  spoil  young  pilgrims  with  so- 
phistry ;  and  he  called  Great-heart  by  his  name, 
and  said  unto  him,  How  many  times  have  you 
been  forbidden  to  do  these  things  ?  Then  said  Mr. 
Great-heart,  What  things  1  What  things  !  quoth 
the  giant ;  you  know  what  things  :  but  I  will  put 
an  end  to  your  trade. 

Bat  pray,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  before  we  fall 
to  it,  let  us  understand  wherefore  we  must  fight 
Now  the  women  and  children  stood  trembling,  and 
knew  not  what  to  do.  Quoth  the  giant.  You  rob 
the  country,  and  rob  it  with  the  worst  of  thefts. 


BATTLE    WITH    GIANT    MAUL.  3G5 

These  are    but    generals,    said  Mr.   Great-heart  j 
come  to  particulars,  man. 

Then  said  the  giant,  Thou  practisest  the  craft 
of  a  kidnapper ;  thou  gatherest  up  wo-  ^^^.^  ^^.^.^ 
men  and  children,  and  earnest  them   ters  counted  ;is 

kidnappers 

mto  a  strange  country,  to  the  Weak- 
ening of  my  master's  kingdom.  But  now  Great- 
heart  replied,  I  am  a  servant  of  the  God  of  heaven  ; 
my  business  is  to  persuade  sinners  to  repentance. 
I  am  commanded  to  do  my  endeavors  to  turn  men, 
women,  and  children,  from  darkness 

-.    ,  ,    „  ,  p  c^  The   giant  and 

to  light,  and  from  the  power  ot  batan    Mr. Great-heait 
unto  God ;  and  if  this  be  indeed  the   ^^^    ^ 
ground  of  thy  quaiTel,  let  us  fall  to  it  as  soon  as 
thou  wilt. 

Then  the  giant  came  up,  and  Mr  Great-heart 
went  to  meet  him ;  and  as  he  went  he  drew  his 
sword,  but  the  giant  had  a  club.  So  without  more 
ado  they  fell  to  it,  and  at  the  first  blow  the  Giant 
struck  Mr.  Great-heart  down  upon  one  of  his 
knees.  With  that  the  women  and  chil-      ,„   ,    . ,, 

Weak    folks 

dren  cried  out.  So  Mr.  Great-heart  re-      prayers  some 

.        ,      _  times      help 

covering  himself,  laid  about  him  in  full  stiong  folks' 
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  cauldron. 

Then  they  sat  down  to  rest  them;  but  Mr. 
Great-heart  betook   himself  to  prayer.    Also  the 


366  THE    GIANT    SLAIN. 

women  and  children  did  nothing  but  sigh  and  cry 

all  the  time  that  the  battle  did  last. 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken  breath, 

they  both  fell  to  it   again,   and  Mr.  Great-heart, 

with  a  blow,  fetched  the  giant  down 

The  giant  to  the  orround.  Nay,  hold,  let  me  re- 
struck  down.  o  J  '  » 

cover,  quoth  he.  So  Mr.  Great-heart 
fairly  let  him  get  up ;  so  to  it  they  went  again ; 
and  the  giant  missed  but  little  of  all  to  breaking 
Mr.  Great-heart's  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  beo^an  to 

He  is  slain,  and  iiiiii-  -, 

his  head  dis-  famt,  and  could  hold  up  his  club  no 
longer.  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  second- 
ed his  blow,  and  smit  the  head  of  the  giant  from 
his  shoulders.  Then  the  women  and  children  re- 
joiced, and  Mr.  Great-heart  also  praised  God  for 
the  deliverance  he  had  wrought. 

When  this  was  done,  they  amongst  them  erected  ! 
a  pillar,  and  fastened  the  giant's  head  thereon,  and  i 
wrote  under  it  in  letters  that  passengers  might! 
read : 


He  that  did  wear  this  head  was  one 

That  pilgrims  did  misuse ; 
He  stopt  their  way,  he  spared  none, 

But  did  them  all  abuse  ; 
Until  that  I,  Great-heart,  arose, 

The  pilgrim's  guide  to  be ; 
Until  that  I  did  him  oppose 

That  was  their  enemy. 


I 


DISCOURSE    OF    THE    FIGHT.  367 


@:i)e   0i^tl)   Stage. 

Now  I  saw  that  they  went  on  to  the  ascent  thai 
I  was  a  little  way  off,  cast  up  to  be  a  prospect  foi 
(pilgrims.     That  was  the  place  from  whence  Chris- 
itian  had  the   first   sight  of  Faithful   his    brother. 
!  Wherefore,  here  they  sat  down  and  rested.    The;/ 
I  also  here  did  eat  and  drink,  and  make  merry,  for 
i  that  they  had  gotten  deliverance  from  this  so  dan- 
I  gerous  an  enemy.     As  they  sat  thus  and  did  eat, 
I  Christiana  asked  the   guide  if  he  had  caught  no 
\  hurt   in  the  battle.     Then   said    Mr.   Great-heart, 
j  No,  save  a  little  on  my  flesh ;    yet  that  also  shall 
;  be  so  far  from  being  to  my  detriment,  that  it  is  at 
present  a  proof  of  my  love  to  m.y  Master  and  you, 
and  shall  be  a  means,  by  grace,  to  increase  my  re- 
ward at  last. 

Chr.  But  were  you  not  afraid,  good  sir,  when 
you  saw  him  come  with  his  club  ? 

Great.  It  is  my  duty,  said  he,  to  mistrust  my 
own  ability,  that  1  may  have  reliance    Discourse  of 
on  Him  who  is  stronger  than  all.  the  fight. 

Chr.  But  what  did  you  think  when  he  fetched 
you  do^vn  to  the  ground  at  the  first  blow  1 

Great.    Why,  I  thought,  quoth  he,  that  so  my 

Master  himself  was  seiTed,  and  yet  he  it  was  that 

conquered  at  last.  2  Cor.  4:10,  11 ;   Rom.  8  :  37. 

Matt.  When  you  all  have  thought  what  you 


3^8  THEY   MEET    OLD    HONEST. 

Matthew  here    please,  I  think  God  has  been  wonder- 
admires  God's      „  -,  ,  1     X.1     •      i_   •       • 
goodness.           lully  good  unto  US,  Doth  in  bringing  us 

out  of  this  valley,  and  in  delivering  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.  Then 
they  got  up,  and  went  forward. 

Now  a  little  before  them  stood  an  oak,  and  un- 
der it,  when  they  came  to  it,  they  found  an  old 
^,,„  pilo^rim  fast  asleep.     They  knew  that 

Old  Honest        ^    ^  ,        ,      ^  •        i      i 

asleep  under  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  lifted  up  his  eyes, 
cried  out.  What's  the  matter  ]  who  are  you  1  and 
what  is  your  business  here  1 

Great.  Come,  man,  be  not  so  hot;  here  are 
One  saint  some-  ^one  but  foends.  Yet  the  old  man 
*hSrf?hi8ene  S^^s  up,  aiid  stauds  upou  his  guard, 
my.  and  will  know  of  them  what  they  are. 

Then  said  the  guide,  My  name  is  Great-heart:  I 
am  the  guide  of  these  pilgrims  that  are  going  to 
the  celestial  country. 

Hon.   Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  I  cry  you  mercy : 

I  feared   that   you   had    been    of  the 

Great-heart  and   company  of  thosG  that  some  time  ago 

did  rob  Little-faith  of  his  money  ;  but, 

now  I  look  better  about  me,  I  perceive  you  are" 

honester  people. 


DISCOURSE    WITH    OLD    HONEST.         360 

Great.  Why,  what  would  or  could  you  have 
done  to  have  helped  yourself,  if  indeed  we  had 
been  of  that  company  1 

Hon.  Done  1  Why,  I  would  have  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. 

Great.  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. 

Hon.  And  by  this  also  I  know  that  thou  know- 
est  what  true  pilgrimage  is ;  for  all  others  do  think 
that  we  are  the  soonest  overcome  of  any. 

Great.  Well,  now  we  are  so  happily  met, 
pray  let  me  crave  your  name,  and  the  name  of  the 
place  you  came  from. 

Hon.  My  name  !    I  cannot ;  but  I  came  from 
the  town  of  Stupidity :  it  lieth  about     whence  Mr. 
four  degrees  beyond  the  city  of  De-    ^°°^^*  <=^®' 
struction. 

Great.  Oh  !  Are  you  that  countryman  1  Then 
I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you  ;  your  name  is 
old  Honesty,  is  it  not  1 

Hon.  So  the  old  gentleman  blushed,  and  said, 
Not  Honesty  in  the  abstract,  but  Honest  is  my 
name ;  and  I  wish  that  my  nature  may  agree  to 
what  I  am  called.  But,  sir,  said  the  old  gentleman, 
how  could  you  guess  that  I  am  such  a  man,  since 
I  came  from  such  a  place! 

Pil.  Progress.  04 


370  OLD    HONEST    BLESSES    THEM. 

Great.  I  had  heard  of  you  before  by  my  Mas- 
stupified  ones  ^®^»  ^o^'  ^^  knows  all  things  that  are 
?hosr'merSy  ^^^^  ^^  the  earth.  But  I  have  often 
cainai.  wondered  that  any  should  come  from 

your  place  :  for  your  town  is  worse  than  is  the 
city  of  Destruction  itself 

Hon.  Yes,  we  lie  more  off  from  the  sun,  and  so 
are  more  cold  and  senseless.  But  were  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  has  been  with  me. 

Great.  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  their 
names,  and  how  they  had  fared  since  they  set  out 
on  their  pilgrimage. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  My  name  I  suppose 

oidHonestand  ^^^  ^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^5  g^^*^  Christian 
Christiana  talk,    was  my  liusband,  and  these  four  are 

his    children.     But    can    you    think   how    the    old 

gentleman  was  taken  when  she  told  him  who  she 

was  \    He  skipped,  lie  smiled,   he  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,  have  made  his  name  famous. 


TALK    ABOUT    MR.   FEARING.  371 

Then  he  turned  him  to  the  boys,  and  asked  them 
of  their  names,  which  they  told  him.  Then  said 
he  unto  them,  Matthew,  be  thou  like     ^,,  ,,    ^^ 

'  _  '  Old  Mr.  Hon- 

Matthew   the    publican,   not   in   vice,     est's  blessing 

...  ■!.  _  r^  -,        °^  them. 

but  m  Yutue.  Matt.  10  :  3.  Samuel, 
said  he,  be  thou  like  Samuel  the  prophet,  a  man 
of  faith  and  prayer.  Psalm  99  :  6.  Joseph,  said  he, 
be  thou  like  Joseph  in  Potiphar's  house,  chaste, 
and  one  that  flees  from  temptation.  Gen.  39.  And 
James,  be  thou  like  James  the  just,  and  like 
James  the  brother  of  our  Lord.  Acts,  1  :  13. 
Then  they  told  him  of  Mercy,  and  how  she  had 
left  her  town  and  her  kindred  to  come  along  with 
Christiana,  and  with  her  sons.  At  that  the  old 
honest  man  said,  Mercy  is  thy  name  :  jjg  biesseth 
by  mercy  shalt  thou  be  sustained  and  Mercy. 
carried  through  all  those  difficulties  that  shall  as- 
sault 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  well  pleased,  and  smiled 
upon  his  companions. 

Now,  as  they  walked  along  together,  the  guide 
asked  the  old  gentleman  if  he  did  not 

■AT       r^        •  Talk  of  one  Mr. 

know  one  Mr.  Fearmg,  that  came  on       Fearing, 
pilgrimage  out  of  his  parts. 

Hon.  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 
inet  with  in  all  my  days 


372  TALK    ABOUT 

Great.  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  upon  what  would  come  upon  us 
hereafter,  I  was  with  him. 

Great.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  Master's 
house  to  the  gates  of  the  celestial  city. 

Hon.  Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  troublesome 
one. 

Great.  I  did  so;  but  I  could  very  well  bear 
it ;  for  men  of  my  calling  are  oftentimes  entrusted 
with  the  conduct  of  such  as  he  was. 

Hon.  Well  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little  of  him, 
and  how  he  managed  himself  under  your  conduct. 

Great.  Why,   he   was   always   afi'aid  that  he 

should  come  short  of  whither  he  had 

troublesome^      a  desire  to  go.     Every  thing  frighten- 

pilgrimage.  ^^   j^-^    ^,^^^  j^^  j^^^^.^  ^^^  ^^^^  ^p^^T. 

of,  if  it  had  but  the  least  appearance  of  opposition 
„.  ,  ,     .         in  it.    I  heard  that  he  lay  roarina  at 

HiS  behavior  at  ./  o 

the  Slough  of  the  Slough  of  Despond  for  above  a 
month  together ;  nor  durst  he,  for  all 
he  saw  several  go  over  before  him,  venture,  though 
they  many  of  them  offered  to  lend  him  their  hands. 
He  would  not  go  back  again  neither.  The  celes- 
tial city — he  said  he  should  die  if  he  came  not  to 
it ;  and  yet  he  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 


MR.    FEARING.  373 

Despond  a  great  while,  as  I  have  told  you,  one 
sunshiny  morning,  I  don't  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 
Despond  in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  he  carried  every 
vvhere  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  j^jg  behavior 
he  would  venture  to  knock.  When  at  the  gate, 
the  gate  was  opened  he  would  give  back,  and  give 
place  to  others,  and  say  that  he  was  not  worthy. 
For,  for  all  he  got  before  some  to  the  gate,  yel 
many  of  them  v/ent  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  stepped  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  door 
to  thee  ;  come  in,  for  thou  art  blessed.  With  that 
he  got  up,  and  went  in  trembling ;  and  when  he 
was  in  he  was  ashamed  to  show  his  face.  Well, 
oiler- he  had  been  entertained  there  awhile,  as  you 
know  how  the  manner  is,  he  was  bid  go  on  his  way 


374  TALK    ABOUT 

and  also  told  the  way  lie  bliould  l;ako.  So  he  went 
on  till  came  to  our  h(nise ;  but  as  he  behaved  him- 
Belf  at  ihe  gate,  so  he  did  at  my  Master  the  Inter- 
preter's door.  He  lay  there  about  in  the  cold  a 
good  while,  before  he  would  adventure  to  call; 
yet  he  would   not   eo  back  :  and   the 

Ilia  behavior    "  i        i  i     i  -vt 

at  the  interpre-  nights  wero  loug  and  cold  then.  Nay, 
ho  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  hirn  a  stoui 
and  valiant  conductor,  because  ho  was  himself  km 
chicken-hearted  a  man  ;  and  yet  for  all  that  he  w.im 
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  drjjection,  that  though  he  saw 
several  others  for  knocking  get  in,  yet  he  w;i 
afraid  to  venture.  At  last,  I  think  I  looked  out  nl 
the  window,  and  perceiving  a  man  to  be  up  anri 
down  about  the  door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and  asked 
what  he  was ;  but,  poor  man,  the  water  stood  in 
his  eyes ;  so  1  perceived  what  he  wanted.  I  went 
therefore  in,  and  told  it  in  the  house,  and  we  show- 
ed the  thing  to  our  Lord:  so  he  sent  me  out  again, 
to  entreat  Jiim  to  come  in ;  but  I  dare  say,  I  had 
hard  work  to  do  it.  At  last  he  came  in  ;  and  I 
iiowhewuBen-  ^^^^  ^''^Y  that  for  my  Lord,  he  carried 
temined there,  jj-  wonderfully  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  thereon,  and  said 


MR.    FEARING.  375 

his  desire  siiould  be  granted.  So  when  he  had 
been  there  a  good  while,  he  seemed  to  get  some 
heart,  and  to  be  a  Httle  more  comfort-  He  is  a  uuie  en- 
able. For  my  Master,  you  must  know,  Sifeter's"^^ 
is  one  of  very  tender  bowels,  especially  ^^^^se. 
to  them  that  are  afraid ;  wherefore  he  earned  it  su 
toward  him  as  might  tend  most  to  his  encourage- 
ment. 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  be- 
fore, gave  him  a  bottle  of  spirits,  and  some  com- 
fortable things  to  eat.  Thus  we  set  forward,  and 
I  went  before  him ;  but  the  man  was  but  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 
would  be  his  end  also.  Only  he  seem- 
ed glad  when  he  saw  the  Cross  and  ly^afrSd  Shen 
the  Sepulchre.  There  I  confess  he  bltrbm'che?^^ 
desired  to  stay  a  little  to  look  j  and  "^^^l^^^  '^"^ 
he  seemed  for  a  while  after  to  be  a 
little  cheery.  When  he  came  to  the  hill  Difficulty, 
he  made  no  stick  at  that,  nor  did  he  much  fear  the 
lions ;  for  you  must  know  that  his  troubles  were 
not  about  such  things  as  these ;  his  fear  was  about 
his  acceptance  at  last. 

I  got  him  in  at  the  house  Beautiful,  I  think  before 
he  was  willing.  Also  when  he  was  in,  I  brought 
him  acquainted  with  the  damsels  of  the  place ;  but 
he  was  ashamed  to  make  himself  much  in  compa- 


376  TALK    ABOUT 

ny.    He  desired  much  to  be  alone ;  yet  he  always 
loved  good  talk,  and  often  would  get 

Dumpish    at    ,     ,  .     ,       ,  ,  ,  .  „ 

the  house  Beau-  behind  the  skreen  to  hear  it.  He 
also  loved  much  to  see  ancient  things, 
and  to  be  pondering  them  in  his  mind.  He  told 
me  afterward,  that  he  loved  to  be  in  those  two 
houses  from  which  he  came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  gate, 
and  that  of  the  Interpreter,  but  that  he  durst  not 
be  so  bold  as  to  ask. 

When  we  went  also  from  the  house  Beautiful, 
down  the  hill,  into  the  Valley  of  Hu- 

Pleasant  in  .,.      .  ,  ,      t  ,, 

the  Valley  of     miliatiou,   he  Went  down   as  well  as 

Humilianon.         ^^^^   j    ^^^    ^   ^^^    -^  ^^^  |-^^  ,    £^^  j^^ 

cared  not  how  mean  he  was,  so  he  might  be  happy 
at  last.  Yea,  I  think  there  was  a  kind  of  sympa- 
thy betwixt  that  valley  and  him ;  for  I  never  saw 
him  better  in  all  his  pilgrimage  than  he  was  iu 
that  valley. 

Here  he  would  lie  down,  embrace  the  ground, 
and  kiss  the  very  flowers  that  grew  in  this  valley. 
Lam.  3  :  27-29.  He  would  now  be  up  every 
morning  by  break  of  day,  tracing  and  walking  to 
and  fro  in  the  valley. 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Much  perplex-  Galley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  I 
of  th?sSow  thought  I  should  have  lost  my  man  : 
of  Death.  not  for  that  he  had  any  inclination  to 

go  back;  that  he  always  abhorred;  but  he  was 
ready  to  die  for  fear.  Oh,  the  hobgoblins  will 
have  me  !  the  hobgoblins  will  have  me !  cried  he ; 


MR.    FEARING.  377 

aiid  I  could  not  beat  him  out  of  it.  He  made  such 
a  noise,  and  such  an  outcry  here,  that  had  they  but 
heard  him,  it  was  enough  to  encourage  them  to 
come  and  fall  upon  us. 

But  this  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that  this 
valley  was  as  quiet  when  we  went  through  it  as 
ever  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  had  passed  over  it. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all :  -^e 
will  therefore  only  mention  a  passage  or  two  more. 
When  he  was  come  to  Vanity  Fair,  I  His- behavior  at 
thousfht  he  would  have  fouorht  with  all  ^^""y  f^"'- 
the  men  in  the  Fair.  I  feared  there  we  should 
have  been  both  knocked  on  the  head,  so  hot  was 
he  against  their  fooleries.  Upon  the  Enchanted 
Ground  he  was  very  wakeful.  But  when  he  was 
come  at  the  river  where  v/as  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  I  saw  it  in  all  my  life ;  so  he 
went  over  at  last,  not  much  above  wetshod.  When 
he  was  going  up  to  the  gate  I  began  His  boldness  at 
to  take  leave  of  him,  and  to  wish  him  *^^*- 

a  good  reception  above.    So  he   said,  I  shall,  I 


378  TALK    ABOUT 

shall.  Then  parted  we  asunder,  and  I  saw  him  no 
more. 

Hon.   Then  it  seems  he  was  well  at  last  1 

Great.  Yes,  yes,  I  never  had  doubt  about  him. 
He  was  a  man  of  a  choice  spirit,  only  he  was  al- 
ways kept  very  low,  and  that  made  his  life  so  bur- 
densome to  himself,  and  so  troublesome  to  others. 
Psalm  88.  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.  Rom.  14  : 
21;   1  Cor.  8:  13. 

Hon.  But  what  should  be  the  reason  that  such  a 
good  man  should  be  all  his  days  so  much  in  the  dark  1 

Great.  There  are  two  sorts  of  reasons  for  it. 
One  is,  the  wise  God  will  have  it  so : 

Reasons  why  '  .  , 

good  men  are  some  must  pipe,  and  some  must  weep. 
so  in  the  dark.    ^^^^^^  h  :  16.    Now  Mr.  Fearing  was 

one  that  played  upon  the  bass.  He  and  his  fel- 
lows sound  the  sackbut,  whose  notes  are  more 
doleful  than  the  notes  of  other  music  are :  though 
indeed,  some  say,  the  bass  is  the  ground  of  music. 
And  for  my  part,  I  care  not  at  all  for  that  profes- 
sion which  begins  not  in  heaviness  of  mind.  The 
first  string  that  the  musician  usually  touches  is  the 
bass,  when  he  intends  to  put  all  in  tune.  God  also 
plays  upon  this  string  first,  when  he  sets  the  soul 
in  tune  for  himself  Only  there  was  the  imperfec- 
tion of  Mr.  Fearing ;  he  could  play  upon  no  other 
music  but  this  till  toward  his  latter  end. 


MR.    FEARING.  379 

[I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  metaphorically  for  the 
ripening  of  the  wits  of  young  readers,  and  because, 
in  the  book  of  the  Revelation,  the  saved  are  com- 
pared to  a  company  of  musicians  that  play  upon 
their  trumpets  and  harps,  and  sing  their  songs  be- 
fore the  throne.     Rev.  5:8;   14  :  2,  3.] 

Hon.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one  may 
see  by  the  relation  which  you  have  given  of  him. 
Difficulties,  lions,  or  Vanity  Fair,  he  feared  not  at 
all ;  it  was  only  sin,  death,  and  hell,  that  were  to 
him  a  terror,  because  he  had  some  doubts  about 
his  interest  in  that  celestial  country. 

Great.  You  say  right;  those  were  the  things 
that  were  his  troublers ;  and  they,  as  ^  ^jogg  ^^,0^^ 
you  have  well   observed,   arose  from  ^^"^• 

the  weakness  of  his  mind  thereabout,  not  from 
weakness  of  spirit  as  to  the  practical  part  of  a 
pilgi'im's  life.  I  dare  believe  that,  as  the  proverb 
is,  he  could  have  bit  a  fire-brand,  had  it  stood  in 
his  way ;  but  the  things  with  which  he  was  oppress- 
ed, no  man  ever  yet  could  shake  off  with  ease. 

Chr.  Then  said  Christiana,  This  relation  of 
Mr.  Fearing  has  done  me  good:  I  Christiana's 
thought  nobody  had  been  like  me.  sentence. 
But  I  see  there  was  some  semblance  betwixt  this 
good  man  and  me  :  only  we  differed  in  two  things. 
His  troubles  were  so  great  that  they  broke  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  entertainment ;  but  my  trouble 


380  TALK    ABOUT    IVIR.    FEARING. 

was  always  such  as  made  me  knock  the  louder, 

Mer.  If  I  might  also  speak  my  heart,  I  must 
Mercy's  sen-      ^^7  ^^^^  Something  of  him  has   also 

tence.  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.  O,  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  was  one  thing 
Matthew's  sen-   ^^^^  made  me  think  that  I  was  far  from 

tence.  having  that  within  me  which  accompa- 

nies salvation.  But  if  it  was  so  with  such  a  good 
man  as  he,  why  may  it  not  also  go  well  with  me  ? 

James.  No  fears,  no  grace,  said  James.  Though 
James'  sen-  there  is  not  always  grace  where  there 
tence.  jg  i)^q  f^ar  of  hell;  yet,  to  be  sure, 
there  is  no  grace  where  there  is  no  fear  of  God. 

Great.  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  begin- 
ning have  neither  middle  nor  end.  But  we  will 
here  conclude  our  discourse  of  Mr.  Fearing  after 
we  have  sent  after  him  this  farewell : 

Well,  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear 

Thy  God,  and  wast  afraid 
Of  doing  any  thing,  while  here, 

That  would  have  thee  betrayed. 
And  didst  thou  fear  the  lake  and  pit  7 

Would  others  do  so  too  ! 
For,  as  for  them  that  want  thy  wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo. 


T^LK    OF    SELF-WILL.  381 

Now  I  saw  that  they  still  went  on  in  their  talk. 
For  after  Mr.  Great-heait  had  made  an  end  with 
Mr.  Fearing,  Mr.  Honest  began  to  tell  them  of 
another,  but  his  name  was  Mr.  Self- 

•  1,       TT  Til-  -ir.  1  OfMr.Self-wilL 

Will.    Jtle  pretended  himseli  to  be  a 
pilgrim,  said  Mr.  Honest ;  but  I  persuade  myself 
he  never  came  in  at  the    gate  that  stands  at  the 
head  of  the  way. 

Great.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  with  *him  about  it] 
Hon.  Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice  ;  but  he 
would  always  be  like  himself,  self-will- 

,    TT  •  1  n  r  O^d  Honest 

ed.  He  neither  cared  lor  man,  nor  argu-   had  talked  with 
ment,  nor  yet  example  ;  what  his  mind 
prompted  him  to,  that  he  would  do,  and  nothing 
else  could  he  be  got  to  do. 

Great.  Pray  what  principles  did  he  hold?  for 
I  suppose  you  can  tell. 

Hon.  He  held  that  a  man  might  follow  the  viceB 
as  well  as  the  virtues  of  pilgrims ;  and 
that  if  he  did  both,  he  should  be  cer-       opin^s.^ 
tainly  saved. 

Great.  How  ]  If  he  had  said,  it  is  possible  for 
the  best  to  be  guilty  of  the  vices,  as  well  as  to 
partake  of  the  virtues  of  pilgi'ims,  he  could  nol 
much  have  been  blamed ;  for  indeed  we  are  ex- 
empted 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  opinion  that  it  was  al- 
lowable so  to  be. 


382  TALK    OF    SELF-WII4.. 

Hon.  Ay,  ay,  so  I  mean,  and  so  he  believed 
and  practised. 

Great.  But  what  grounds  had  he  for  his  so 
saying  ] 

Hon.  Why,  he  said  he  had  the  Scripture  for 
his  warrant. 

Great.  Prithee,  Mr.  Honest,  present  us  with 
a  few  particulars. 

Hon.  So  I  will.  He  said,  to  have  to  do  with 
other  men's  wives  had  been  practised  by  David, 
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  midwives  of 
Egypt  lied,  and  so  did  saved  Rahab,  and  there- 
fore 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  fa- 
ther in  a  way  of  guile  and  dissimulation,  and  there- 
fore he  could  do  so  too. 

Great.  High  base  indeed  !  And  are  you  sure 
he  was  of  this  opinion  1 

Hon.  I  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring 
Scripture  for  it,  bring  arguments  for  it,  &c. 

Great.  An  opinion  that  is  not  fit  to  be  with 
any  allowance  in  the  world  ! 

Hon.  You  must  understand  me  rightly :  he  did 
not  say  that  any  man  might  do  this ;  but  that  they 
who  had  the  virtues  of  those  that  did  such  things, 
might  also  do  the  same. 


TALK    OF    SELF-WILL.  383 

Great.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a  con- 
clusion 1  For  this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  be- 
cause good  men  heretofore  have  sinned  of  infirmi- 
ty, therefore  he  had  allowance  to  do  it  of  a  pre- 
sumptuous mind ;  or  that  if,  because  a  child,  by 
the  blast  of  the  wind,  or  for  that  it  stu'.iibled  at  a 
stone,  fell  down  and  defiled  itself  in  the  mire, 
therefore  he  might  wilfully  lie  down  and  wallow 
like  a  boar  therein.  Who  could  have  thought  that 
any  one  could  so  far  have  been  blinded  by  the 
power  of  lust  ]  But  what  is  written  must  be  true  ; 
they  "  stumble  at  the  word,  being  disobedient, 
whereunto  also  they  were  appointed."  1  Peter,  2  : 
8.  His  supposing  that  such  may  have  the  godly 
men's  virtues,  who  addict  themselves  to  their  vices, 
is  also  a  delusion  as  strong  as  the  other.  To  eat 
up  the  sin  of  God's  people,  Hos.  4:8,  as  a  dog 
licks  up  filth,  is  no  sign  of  one  that  is  possessed 
with  their  virtues.  Nor  can  I  believe  that  one  who 
is  of  this  opinion  can  at  present  have  faith  or  love 
in  him.  But  I  know  you  have  made  some  strong 
objections  against  him ;  prithee  what  can  he  say 
for  himself? 

Hon.  Why,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of  opi- 
nion, seems  abundantly  more  honest  than  to  do  it, 
and  yet  hold  contrary  to  it  in  opinion. 

Great.  A  very  wicked  answer.  For  though 
to  let  loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opinions 
are  agahist  such  things,  is  bad ;  yet  to  sin,  and 
plead  a  toleration  so  to  do,  is  worse  :  the  one  stum- 


384  TALK    ABOUT 

bles  beholders  accidentally,  the  other  leads  them 
mto  the  snare. 

Hon.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind,  that 
have  not  this  man's  mouth ;  and  jthat  makes  going 
on  pilgrimage  of  so  little  esteem  as  it  is. 

Great.  You  have  said  the  truth,  and  it  is  to 
be  lamented  :  but  he  that  feareth  the  King  of  pa- 
radise shall  come  out  of  them  all. 

Chris.  There  are  strange  opinions  in  the  world. 
I  know  one  that  said,  it  was  time  enough  to  re- 
pent when  we  come  to  die. 

Great.  Such  are  not  over- wise;  that  man 
^vould  have  been  loth,  might  he  have  had  a  week 
to  run  twenty  miles  in  his  life,  to  defer  his  journey 
to  the  last  hour  of  that  week. 

Hox.  You  say  right ;  and  yet  the  generality  of 
them,  who  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  J 
have  taken  notice  of  many  things. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  set  out  as  if  they 
would  drive  all  the  world  before  them,  who  yet 
have,  in  a  few  days,  died  as  they  in  the  wilder- 
ness, and  so  never  got  sight  of  the  promised  land. 
I  have  seen  some  that  have  promised  nothing  at 
first  setting  out  to  be  pilgrims,  and  who  one  would 
have  thought  could  not  have  lived  a  day,  that  have 
yet  proved  very  good  pilgi'ims.  I  have  seen  some 
who  have  run  hastily  forward,  that  again  have,  af- 
ter a  little  time,  run  just  as  fast  back  again.  I  have 


SOME    PROFESSORS.  385 

seen  some  who  have  spoken  veiy  well  of  a  pil- 
grim's life  at  first,  that  after  a  whiie  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  on  their  way  there  came 
one  running  to  meet  them,   and  said, 
Gentlemen,    and    you  of  the  weaker   ^"^^^Jbil^  °' 
eoit,   if  you  love  life,  shift  for  your- 
selves, for  the  robbers  are  before  you. 

Great.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  They  be 
the  three  that  set   upon    Little-Faith   heretofore. 
"Well,  said  he,  we  are  ready  for  them  : 
so  they  went  on  their  way.  Now  tliey      ^SudS!^ 
looked  at   every    turning    when    they 
should  have   met   with  the  ^-illains ;  but  whether 
they  heard  of  Mr.  Great-heart,  or  whether  they 
had  some  other  game,   they  came  not  up  to  the 
pilgrims. 

Christiana  then  wished  fur  an  inn  to  refiresh 
herself  and  her  children,  because  they 
were  wear\'.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  wishes  for  an 
There  is  one  a  little  before  us,  where  ""' 
a  very  honorable  disciple,  one  Gains  dwells.  Rom. 
IG  :  23.  So  they  all  concluded  to  tura  in  thither ; 
Pfl.  Propws.  25 


386  THE    riLGKIMS 

and  the  rather,  because  the  old  gentleman  gave 
him  so  good  a  report.  When  they  came  to  the 
door  they  went  in,  not  knocking,  for  folks  use  not 
to  knock  at  the  door  of  an  inn.  Then  they  called 
for  the  master  of  the  house,  and  he  came  to  them 
So  they  asked   if  they  might  lie  there  that  night. 

Gaius.  Yes,  gentlemen,  if  you  be  true  men  ; 
for  my  house  is  for  none  but  pilgrims, 
tains  them,  and    Then  Were  Christiana,  Mercy,  and  the 
°^'  boys,  the  more  glad,  for  that  the  inn- 

keeper was  a  lover  of  pilgrims.  So  they  called  for 
rooms,  and  he  showed  them  one  for  Christiana 
and  her  children,  and  Mercy,  and  another  for  Mr 
Great-heart  and  the  old  gentleman. 

Great.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Good 
Gaius,  what  hast  thou  for  supper  1  for  these  pil- 
grims have  come  far  to-day,  and  are  weary. 

Gaius.  It  is  late,  said  Gaius,  so  we  cannot  con 
veniently  go  out  to  seek  food ;  but  such  as  we  have 
you  shall  be  welcome  to,  if  that  will  content. 

Great.  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. 

Then  he  went  down   and  spake  to  the   cook 
whose  name  was  Taste-that-which-is- 

Game's  cook. 

good,  to  get  ready  supper  for  so  many 
pilgrims.  This  done,  he  comes  up  again,  saying, 
„„  Come,  my  o^ood  friends,  you  are  wel- 

He  comes   up  '       j     o  '  j 

again.         corae  to  me,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  havo 


AT    GAIUS'S    HOUSE.  387 

a  house  to  entertain  you  in ;  and  while  supper  is 
making  ready,  if  you  please,  let  us  entertain  one 
another  with  some  good  discourse;  so  they  all 
said.  Content. 

Gaius.   Then  said  Gains,   Whose  wife  is  this 
aged  matron  1   and  whose  dauo^hter  is 

,  .  110  Talk  between 

this  young  damsel  (  Cuius   and   hi5 

Great.  This  woman  is  the  wife  of  ^^^ 
one  Christian,  a  pilgrim  of  former  times  ;  and  these 
are  his  four  children.  The  maid  is  one  of  her  ac- 
quaintance, one  that  she  hath  persuaded  to  come 
with  her  on  pilgrimage.  The  boys  take  all  after 
their  father,  and  covet  to  tread  in  his  steps ;  yea, 
if  they  do  but  see  any  place  where  the  old  pilgi'im 
hath  lain,  or  any  print  of  his  foot,  it  ministereth 
joy  to  their  hearts,  and  they  covet  to  lie  or  tread 
in  the  same. 

Gaius.  Then  said  Gaius,  Is  this  Christian's 
wife,  and  are  these  Christian's  chil- 
dren 1  I  knew  your  husband's  father,  ancestors!  ^  ^ 
yea,  also  his  father's  father.  Many 
have  been  good  of  this  stock ;  their  ancestors  dwelt 
first  at  Antioch.  Acts,  11  :  26.  Christian's  proge- 
nitors (I  suppose  you  have  heard  your  husband 
talk  of  them)  were  very  worthy  men.  They  have, 
above  any  that  I  know,  showed  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. 


388  THE    PILGRIMS 

Stephen,  that  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  family 
from  whence  your  husband  sprang,  was  knocked 
on  the  head  with  stones.  Acts,  7  :  59,  60.  James, 
another  of  this  generation,  was  slain  with  the  edge 
of  the  sword.  Acts,  12  :  2.  To  say  nothing  of  Paul 
and  Peter,  men  anciently  of  the  family  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  Poly  carp,  that  played 
the  man  in  the  fire.  There  was  he  that  was  hanged 
up  in  a  basket  in  the  sun  for  the  wasps  to  eat ;  and 
he  whom  they  put  into  a  sack,  and  cast  into  the 
sea  to  be  drowned.  It  would  be  impossible  utter- 
ly to  count  up  all  of  that  family  who  have  suffered 
injuries  and  death  for  the  love  of  a  pilgiim'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. 
Great.  Indeed,  Sir,  they  are  likely  lads  :  they 
seetn  to  choose  heartily  their  father's  ways. 

Gaius.  That  is  it  that  I  said.  Wherefore  Chris- 
tian's family  is  like  still  to  spread  abroad  upon  the 
face  of  the  ground,  and  yet  to  be  nu- 
ChStiana       Hierous  upon  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  let 
about  her       Christiana  look  out  some  damsels  for 

boys. 

her  sons,  to  whom  they  may  be  be- 
trothed, &c.  that  the  name  of  their  father,  and  the 
house  of  his  progenitors,  may  never  be  forgotten 
in  the  world. 


AT    GAIUS'S    HOUSE.  389 

Hon.  'Tis  pity  his  family  should  fall  and  be 
extinct. 

Gaius.  Fall  it  cannot,  but  be  diminished  it 
may ;  but  let  Christiana  take  my  advice,  and  that 
IS  the  way  to  uphold  it.  And,  Christiana,  said 
tliis  innkeeper,  I  am  glad  to  see  thee  and  thy 
friend  Mercy  together  here,  a  lovely  couple.  And 
if  I  may  advise,  take  Mercy  into  a  nearer  re- 
lation to  thee  :  if  she  will,  let  her  be  given  to  Mat- 
thew thy  eldest  son.     It  is  the  way  to 

•'  ...  o.  •*■  i^a'ch  be- 

preserve  a  posterity  in  the  earth.    So     tween  Mercy 

,  .  -  111  7   •  ^<i  Matthew 

this  match  was  concluded,  and  in  pro- 
cess of  time  they  were  married  :   but  more  of  that 
hereafter. 

Gaius  also  proceeded,  and  said,  I  will  now 
speak  on  the  behalf  of  women,  to  take  away  their 
reproach.  For  as  death  and  the  curse  came  into 
the  world  by  a  woman.  Gen.  3,  so  also  did  life  and 
health  :  God  sent  forth  his  Son,  made  of  a  woman. 
Gal.  4  :  4.  Yea,  to  show  how  much  they  that 
came  after  did   abhor  the    act  of  the   „„ 

Why  women  of 

mother,  this  sex  in  the  Old  Testament   old  so  much  de- 

1       1  -n  -c    ^  M  1  •  sired  children 

coveted  children,  it  happily  this  or 
that  woman  might  be  the  mother  of  the  Savior  of 
the  world.  I  will  say  again,  that  when  the  Savior 
was  come,  women  rejoiced  in  him,  before  either 
man  or  angel.  Luke,  1  :  42-46.  I  read  not  that 
ever  any  man  did  give  unto  Christ  so  much  as 
one  gi-oat;  but  the  women  followed  him,  and 
ministered  to  him  of  their  substarice.  Luke,  8  :  2,  3. 


390  THE    SUPPER. 

'Twas  a  woman  that  washed  his  feet  with  tears, 
Luke,  7  :  37-50  ;  and  a  woman  that  anointed  his 
body  to  the  burial.  John,  11  :  2;  12  :  3.  They 
were  women  who  wept  when  he  was  go?ng  to  the 
cross,  Luke,  23 :  27 ;  and  women  that  followed 
him  from  the  cross.  Matt.  27  :  55,  56  ;  Luke,  23  : 
55 ;  and  that  sat  over  against  his  sepulchre  when 
he  was  buried.  Matt.  27  :  61.  They  were  women 
that  were  first  with  him  at  his  resurrection-morn, 
Luke,  24  :  1 ;  and  women  that  brought  tidings  first 
to  his  disciples  that  he  was  risen  from  the  dead. 
Luke,  24  :  22,  23.  AVomen  therefore  are  highly 
favored,  and  show  by  these  things  that  they  are 
sharers  with  us  in  the  grace  of  life. 

Now  the  cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  supper 
was  almost  ready,  and  sent  one  to  lay 
the  cloth,  and  the  trenchers,  and  to  set 
the  salt  and  bread  in  order. 

Then  said  Matthew,  The  sight  of  this  cloth,  and 
of  this  forerunner  of  the  supper,  begetteth  in  me  a 
greater  appetite  to  my  food  than  I  had  before. 

Gaius.  So  let  all  ministering  doctrines  to  thee 
in  this  life  beget  in  thee  a  greater  desire  to  sit  at 
the  supper  of  the  great  King  in  his  kingdom;,  for 
all  preaching,  books,  and  ordinances  here,  are  but 
What  is  to  be  ^^  ^^®  laying  of  the  ti'enchers,  and  the 
faylLT^of^X  setting  of  salt  upon  the  board,  when 
dotifaSdVen!  compared  with  the  feast  which  our 
chers.  Lord  will  make  for  us  when  we  come 

to  bis  house. 


THE    SUPPER.  391 

So  supper  came  up.  And  first  a  heave-shoulder 
and  a  wave-breast  w^ere  set  on  the  table  before 
them;  to  show  that  they  must  begin  their  meal 
with  prayer  and  praise  to  God.  The  heave-shoul- 
der David  lifted  up  his  heart  to  God  with;  and 
with  the  wave-breast,  where  his  heart  lay,  he  used 
to  lean  upon  his  harp  when  he  played.  Lev.  7  : 
32-34;  10:14,  15;  Psalm  25:1;  Heb.  13:15. 
These  two  dishes  were  very  fresh  and  good,  and 
they  all  ate  heartily  thereof. 

The  next  they  brought  up  was  a  bottle  of  wine, 
as  red  as  blood.  Deut.  32  :  14  ;  .Tudg.  9  :13 ;  John, 
15  :  5.  So  Gains  said  to  them,  Drink  freely  ;  this 
is  the  true  juice  of  the  vine  that  makes  glad  the 
heart  of  God  and  man.  So  they  drank  and  were 
merry. 

The  next  was  a  dish  of  milk  well  crumbed  ;  Gaius 
said,  Let  the  boys  have  that,  that  they 

,  1         -,    -r>         «      .     ^  A  dish  of  milk. 

may  grow  thereby.  1  Ir'et.  2  :  1,  2. 

Then  they  brought  up  in  course  a  dish  of  butter 
and  honey.  Then  said  Gaius,  Eat  q^  ^oney  and 
freely  of  this,  for  this  is  good  to  cheer  butter. 
up  and  strengthen  your  judgments  and  under- 
standings. This  was  our  Lord's  dish  when  he  was 
n  child;  *'  Butter  and  honey  shall  he  eat,  that  he 
may  know  to  refuse  the  evil,  and  choose  the 
good."  Isa.  7  :  15. 

Then  they  brought  them  up  a  dish  of  apples, 
and  they  were  very  good-tasted  fruit.  ^  dish  of  ap- 
Then  said  Matthew,  May  we  eat  ap-        p'®^ 


392  THE    SUPPER. 

pies,  since  it  was  sucli  by  and  with  which  the  ser- 
pent beguiled  our  first  mother  1 
Then  said  Gains : 


Apples  were  they  with  which  we  were  beguil'd  ; 
Yet  sin,  not  apples,  hath  our  souls  defil'd ; 
Apples  forbid,  if  ate,  corrupt  the  blood  ; 
To  each  such,  when  commanded,  does  us  good ; 
Drink  of  his  flagons  then,  thou  church,  his  dove, 
And  eat  his  apples,  who  art  sick  of  love. 

Then  said  Matthew,  I  made  the  scruple,  be- 
cause I  a  while  since  was  sick  with  the  eating  of 
fruit. 

Gaius.  Forbidden  fruit  will  make  you  sick; 
but  not  what  our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking  they  were  pre- 
sented with  another  dish,  and  it  was  a 
dish  of  nuts.  Song,  6:11.  Then  said 
some  at  the  table,  Nuts  spoil  tender  teeth,  espe- 
cially the  teeth  of  children :  which  when  Gaius 
heard,  he  said : 

~     Hard  texts  are  nuts,  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters,) 
Whose  shells  do  keep  their  kernels  from  the  eaters ; 
Open  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 


MATTHEW    AND    MERCY.  393 

we  are  cracking  your  nuts,  if  you  please,  do  you 
open  this  riddle  : 

A   man  there  was,  though  some  did  count  him     ,     .,,, 

J  -A.  riddle  put 

mad,  forth  by  old 

The  more  he  cast  Sway,  the  more  he  had.  Honest. 

Tlien  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondering  what 
good  Gains  would  say ;  so  he  sat  still  a  while,  and 
then  thus  replied  : 


He  who  bestows  his  goods  upon  the  poor, 
Shall  have  as  much  again,  and  ten  times  more. 


Gaiua  opens  it 


won- 


Then  said  Joseph,  I  dare  say,  sir,      j^^^  ^ 
I  did  not  think  you  could  have  found  ders. 

it  out. 

Oh !  said  Gaius,  I  have  been  trained  up  in  this 
way  a  gi'eat  while :  nothing  teaches  like  expe- 
rience. I  have  learned  of  my  Lord  to  be  kind, 
and  have  found  by  experience  that  I  have  gained 
thereby.  There  is  that  scattereth,  and  yet  in- 
creaseth ;  and  there  is  that  withholdeth  more  than 
is  meet,  but  it  tendeth  to  poverty.  There  is  that 
maketh  himself  rich,  yet  hath  nothing:  there  is 
that  maketh  himself  poor,  yet  hath  great  riches. 
Frov.  11  :24;    13:7. 

Then  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana,  his  mo- 
ther, 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 


S94  great-heart's  riddle. 

we  go  any  further.  The  which  Gaius,  the  ho^t, 
over-hearing,  said,  With  a  very  good  will,  my  child. 

So  they  stayed  there  more  than  a  month,  and 
Matthew  and  ^orcy  was  given  to  Matthew  to  wife. 
Mercy  married.  While  they  Stayed  here,  Mercy,  as  her 
custom  w^as,  would  be  making  coats  and  garments 
to  give  to  the  poor,  by  which  she  broiight  a  very 
good  report  upon  the  pilgrims. 

But  to  return  again  to  our  story.  After  supper 
^.    ,  the  lads  desired  a  bed,  for  they  were 

The  boys  go  to  ^  ^       '  •'         ^ 

bed,  the  rest  sit   weary    with    travelling".     Then    Gaius 

up.  ''  °       , 

called  to  show  them  their  chamber; 
but  said  Mercy,  I  will  have  them  to  bed.  So  she 
had  them  to  bed,  and  they  slept  well :  but  the  rest 
sat  up  all  night;  for  Gaius  and  they  were  such 
suitable  company  that  they  could  not  tell  how  to 
part.  After  much  talk  of  their  Lord,  themselves, 
Old  Honest  and  their  journey,' old  Mr.  Honest,  he 
'^°^^-  that  put  forth  the  riddles  to  Gaius,  be- 
gan to  nod.  Then  said  Great-heart,  What,  Sir, 
you  begin  to  be  drowsy ;  come,  rub  up  now,  here 
is  a  riddle  for  you.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  let  us 
liear  it.     Then  replied  Mr.  Great-heart : 


He  that  will  kill,  must  first  be  overcon^e  : 
Who  live  abroad  would,  fir.st  must  die  at  home. 


Ha !  said  Mr.  Honest,  it  is  a  hard  one ;  hard  to 
expound,  and  harder  to  practise.  But,  come,  land-' 
lord,  said  he,  I  will,  if  you  please,  leave  my  part 


A    COMPARISON.  3^5 

to  you  :   do  you  expound  it,  and  I  will  hear  what 
you  say. 

No,  said  Gains,  it  was  put  to  you,  and  it  is  ex- 
pected you  should  answer  it.  Then  said  the  old 
gentleman : 

He  first  by  grace  must  conquered  be, 

That  sin  would  mortify  ;  ipjjg  n^die 

Who  that  he  lives  would  convince  me,  opened. 

Unto  himself  must  die. 

It  is  right,  said  Gains  ;  good  doctrine  and  ex- 
perience teach  this.  For  first,  until  grace  displays 
itself,  and  overcomes  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  one  that  knows  either  reason  or  grace  believe 
that  such  a  man  can  be  a  living  monument  of  grace 
ihat  is  a  slave  to  his  own  corruptions.      . 

\  A  question 

And  now  it  comes   into  my  mind,  I     worth  the 

minding. 

will  tell  you  a  story  worth  the  hear- 
ing. There  were  two  men  that  went  on  pilgrim- 
age; the  one  began  when  he  was  young,  the 
other  when  he  was  old.  The  young  man  had 
strong  corruptions  to  grapple  with  ;  the  old  man's 
were  weak  with  the  decays  of  nature.  The  young 
man  trod  his  steps  as  even  as  did  the  old  one,  and 
was  eveiy  way  as  light  as  he.  Who  now,  or 
which  of  them,  had  their  graces  shining  clearest, 
since  both  seemed  to  be  alike  ] 


39G  great-heart's  discourse. 

Hon.  The   young   man's   doubtless.    For  that 
which  makes  head  against  the  greatest 

A  comparison.  .   .  .  ^ 

opposition,  gives  best  demonstration 
that  it  is  strongest ;  especially  when  it  also  holdeth 
pace  with  that  which  meets  not  with  half  so  much, 
as  to  be  sure  old  age  does  not.  Besides,  I  have 
observed   that   old   men  have  blessed  themselves 

with  this  mistake  :   namely,  taking-  the 

A  mistake. 

decays  of  nature  for  a  gracious  con- 
quest over  corruptions,  and  so  have  been  apt  to 
beguile  themselves.  Indeed,  old  men  that  are  gi-a- 
cious  are  best  able  to  give  advice  to  them  that  are 
young,  because  they  have  seen  most  of  the  empti- 
ness of  things :  but  yet,  for  an  old  and  a  young 
man  to  set  out  both  together,  the  young  one  has  the 
advantage  of  the  fairest  discovery  of  a  work  of 
grace  within  him,  though  the  old  man's  corrup- 
tions are  naturally  the  weakest.  Thus  they  sat 
talking  till  break  of  day. 

Now  when  the  family  v/ere  up,  Christiana  bid 
her  son  James  that  he  should  read  a  chapter; 
so  he  read  the  53d  of  Isaiah.  When  he  had  done. 
Another  ques-  ^^'  Honest  asked  why  it  was  said 
*^o°-  that  the  Savior  was  to  come  "  out  of  a 

dry  gi'ound;"  and  also  that  "he  had  no  form  os 
comeliness  in  him." 

Great.  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^ 


GIANT    SLAY-GOOD.  397 

ihe  words  are  spoken  in  the  person  of  unbelievers, 
who,  because  they  want  the  eye  that  can  see  into 
our  Prince's  heart,  therefore  they  judge  of  him  by 
the  meanness  of  his  outside,  just  hke  those  who, 
not  knowing  that  precious  stones  are  covered  over 
with  a  homely  crust,  when  they  have  found  one, 
because  they  know  not  what  they  have  found,  cast 
it  away  again,  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.  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  him  with  one  Feeble-mind  Giant  aiay-good 
in  his   hand,   whom  his   sen-ants  had  tbund  with  one 

'       ^  ^  ^        ^        Feeble-nund  lu 

brought  unto  him,  havinof  taken  him  in  ^i*  ^^nd. 
the  way.     Now  the  giant  was  rifling  him,  with 
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 
liis  friends  at  the  mouth  of  his  cave,  with  their 
weapons,  he  demanded  what  they  wanted. 


398  SLAY-GOOD    KILLED. 

Great.  We  want  thee ;  for  we  are  come  to 
revenge  the  quaiTels  of  the  many  that  thou  hast 
slain  of  the  pilgrims,  when  thou  hast  dragged 
them  out  of  the  King's  highway  :  wherefore  come 
out  of  thy  cave.  So  he  armed  himself  and  came 
out,  and  to  battle  they  went,  and  fought  for  above 
an  hour,  and  then  stood  still  to  take  wind. 

Slay.  Then  said  the  giant,  Why  are  you  here 
on  my  ground  ] 

Great.  To  revenge  the  blood  of  pilgrims,  as  I 
told  thee  before.  So  they  went  to  it  again,  and  the 
giant  made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back  :  but  he  came 
up  again,  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  mind  he  let 
fly  with,  such  stoutness  at  the  giant's 
assaulted  and  head  and  sides,  that  he  made  him  let 
his  weapon  fall  out  of  his  hand.  So  he 
smote  him,  and  slew  him,  and  cut  oflf  his  head,  and 
brought  it  away  to  the  inn.  He  also  took  Feeble- 
mind,  the  pilgrim,  and  brought  him  with  him  to 
his  lodgings.  When  they  were  come  home  they 
showed  his  head  to  the  family,  and  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  fel 
into  his  hands. 

Feeble.    Then   said  the  poor  man,   I   am   a 

sickly  man,  as  you  see  :    and  because  death  did 

usually  once  a  day  knock  at  my  door, 

How  Feeble-    t      i  i       t      i        t  i 

mind  came  to   1   thought  I  should  never  be  well  at 
^     "■      home;  so  I  betook  myself  to  a  pilgrim's 


feeble-mixd's  history.  399 

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,  though  I  can  but  crawl, 
spend  my  life  in  the  pilgi-im's  way.  ^Mien  I  came 
at  the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  the  way,  the  Lord 
,of  that  place  did  entertain  me  freely;  neither  ob- 
jected he  against  my  weakly  looks,  nor  against  my 
feeble  mind :  but  o-ave  me  such  thinsrs  as  were 
necessary  for  my  journey,  and  bid  me  hope  to  the 
end.  When  I  came  to  the  house  of  the  Interpre- 
ter I  received  much  kindness  there ;  and  because 
the  hill  of  Difficulty  was  judged  too  hard  for  me, 
T  was  carried  up  that  by  one  of  his  sei'vants.  In- 
deed, I  have  found  much  relief  from  pilgrims, 
tliough  none  were  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,  1  Thess.  5  :  14,  and  so  went  on 
their  own  pace.  When  I  was  come  to  Assault- 
lane,  then  this  giant  met  with  me,  and  bid  me  pre- 
pare 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  would  not  kill  me. 
^Also  when  he  had  got  me  into  his  den,  since  1 
went  not  with  him  willingly,  I  believed  I  should 
come  out  alive  asr^iin ;  for  I  have  heard, 

.°.\         .  ,  Mark  thisi 

that  not  any  pilgi'im  that  is  taken  cap- 
tive by  violent  hands,  if  he  keeps  heartwhole  to- 


400  FEEBLE-MIND    COMFORTED. 

ward  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  have,  as 
you  see,  escaped  with  life,  for  the  which  I  thank 
my  King  as  the  author,  and  you  as  the  means. 
Other  brunts  I  also  look  for ;  but  this  I  have  re- 
solved on,  to  wit,  to  run  when  I  can, 
to  go  when  I  cannot  run,  and  to  creep 
when  I  cannot  go.  As  to  the  main,  I  thank  Him 
that  loved  me,  I  am  fixed ;  my  way  is  before  me, 
my  mind  is  beyond  the  river  that  has  no  bridge, 
though  I  am,  as  you  see,  but  of  a  feeble  mind. 

Hon.  Then  said  old  Mr.  Honest,  Have  not  you, 
some  time  ago,  been  acquainted  with  one  Mr. 
Fearing,  a  pilgrim  1 

Feeble.  Acquainted  with  him!  Yes,  he  came 

from  the  town  of  Stupidity,  which  lieth  four  de 

grees  to  the  northward  of  the  city  of  Destruction, 

and  as  many  off  of  where  I  was  bom  :    yet  we 

were  well  acquainted,  for  indeed  he 

Mr.  Fearing  Mr.  ^  /.    i        ,       i  i 

Feeble-mind's   was    my  uncle,    my  father's   brother. 
He  and  I  have  been  much  of  a  tem- 
per :   he  was  a  little  shorter  than  I,  but  yet  we 
were  much  of  a  complexion. 

Hon.    I   perceive    you    knew  him,    and   I   am 

Feeble-mind    ^P^  ^^  believe  also  that  you  were  re- 

F^arkT^'s^^i   ^^^^^   ^^®  ^^  another;    for  you  have 

tures.  liis  whitely  look,  a  cast  like  his  with 

your  eye,  and  your  speech  is  much  alike. 

Feeble.  Most  have  said  so  that  have  known 


i 


FEEBLE-Ml.XD    COMFORTED.  401 

US  both :  and,  besides,  what  I  have  read  in  him  I 
have  for  the  most  part  found  in  myself. 

Gaius.  Come,  sir,  said  good  Gaius,  be  of  good 
cheer ;  you  are  welcome  to  me  and  to 
my  house.   What  thou  hast  a  mind  to,    Gaius^mfnns 
call  for  freely ;  and  what  thou  w^ouldst 
have  my  servants  do  for  thee,  they  will  do  it  with 
a  leady  mind. 

Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  This  is  an  unex- 
pected favor,  and  as  the  sun  shining  out  of  a  very 
dark  cloud.     Did  sfiant  Siay-ffood  in- 

°  ,  ,        Notice  to  be 

tend  me  this  favor  when  he  stopped   taken  of  Provi- 
me,  and  resolved  to  let  me  go  no  fur- 
ther ]    Did  he  intend,  that  after  he  had  rifled  my 
pockets  I  should  go  to  Gaius,  mine  host  ?     Yet 
so  it  is. 

Now  just  as  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gaius  were 
thus  in  talk,  there  came  one  running, 
and  called  at  the  door,  and  said.  That  one  Nlt-right 
about  a  mile  and  a  half  off  there  was  Sunderboit^  * 
one  Mr.  Not-right,  a  pilgrim,  struck 
dead  upon  the  place  where  he  w^as,  with  a  thun- 
derbolt. 

Feeble!  Alas!  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  is  he 
slain  ]    He  overtook  me  some  days  be-       ,^    ^    ^, 

•'  Mr.  Feeblo 

fore  I  came  so  far  as  hither,  and  would      mind's  com 

mentuponit. 

bo  my  company-keeper.    He  was  also 
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  taken  to  live. 

Pit  Progreas.  26 


402  JAMES    MAilRlED. 

What  one  would  think  doih  seek  to  slay  outri-sb;, 

Ofttimes  delivers  from  the  saddest  plight. 

That  very  Providence  whose  face  is  death, 

Doth  ofttimes  to  the  lowly,  life  bequeath. 

I  taken  was,  he  did  escape  and  flee ; 

Hands  cross'd  gave  death  to  him  and  life  to  me. 

Now  about  this  time  Matthew  and  Mercy  were 
married ;  also  Gaius  gave  his  daughter  Phebe  to 
James,  Matthew's  brother,  to  wife;  after  which 
time  they  yet  stayed  about  ten  days  at  Gaius's 
house,  spending  their  time,  and  the  seasons,  Uke 
as  pilgrims  use  to  do. 

When  they  were  to  depart  Gaius  made  them  a 
feast,  and  they  did  eat  and  drink,  and  were  mer- 
ry. Now  the  hour  was  come  that  they 

The  pilgi-ims  ,  ^  p  -\r       n         ^ 

prepare  to  go    must  be  gone ;  whereiore  Mr.  (jrreat- 
torward.  heart  called  for  a  reckoning.  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  p: 
from  the  good  Samaritan,  who  had  promised  him, 
at  his  return,  whatsoever  charge  he  was  at  with 
them,  faithfully  to  repay  him.  Luke,  10  :  34,  2' 
Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  him  ; 

Great.  Beloved,  thou  doest  faithfully  whatso- 
ever thou   doest  to  the  brethren,  and 

How  they  greet  ,        ,  , 

one  another  at   to  Strangers,  who  have  borne  witness 
uai-tmg.  ^^  ^^_^^  charity  before  the  church,  whom 

if  thou  ^yet  bring  forward  on  their  journey,  after  a 
godly  sort,  thou  shalt  do  well.  3  John,  5,  6.  Then 


THE    PILGRIMS    LEAVE.  403 

Gaius  took  his  leave  of  them  all,  and        ^  .    . 

Gaius  8  L"ist 

his  children,   and  particularly  of  Mr.      kindness    to 
Feeble-mind.  He  also  gave  him  some- 
thing 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 
fare  as  the  rest. 

Feeble.  Alas!  I  want  a  suitable  companion. 
You  are  all  lusty  and  strong,  but  I,  as  you  see, 
am  weak  ;  I  choose  therefore  rather  to 

,     ,  .     ,     ,  ,  f.  Feeble-mind 

come  behmcl,  Jest,    by  reason  oi    my      for  going  be- 
many  infirmities  I   should  be  both  a 
burden  to  myself  and  to  you.     I  am,  as  I  said,  a 
man  of  a  weak  and  feeble  mind,  and  shall  be  of- 
fended and  made  weak  at  that  which  others  can 
bear.    I  shall  like  no  laughing ;  1  shall 
like  no  gay  attire ;  I  shall  like  no  un-      "^^or^t^^^ 
profitable    questions.     Nay,    I  am  so 
weak  a  man  as  to  be  offended   with  that  which 
others  have  a  liberty  to  do.  I  do  not  yet  know  all  the 
truth  :  I  am  a  very  ignorant  christian  man.    Some- 
times, if  I  hear  some  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  it  trou- 
bles me,  because  I  cannot  do  so  too.  It  is  with  me 
as  it  is  with  a  weak  man  among  the  strong,  or  as 
with  a  sick  man  among  the  healthy,  or  as  a  lamp 
despised ;  so  that  I  know  not  what  to  do.    "  He  that 
is  ready  to  s-ip  with  his  feet  is  as  a  lamp  despised 


404  MR.    READY-TO-HALT. 

ill  the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease."  Job,  12  :  5. 

Great.  But,  brother,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I 

have  it  in  commission  to   comfort  the 

Great-heart's     feeble-minded,     and    to    support    the 

commission.  ••■  ••■ 

weak.    You  must  needs  go  along  with 

us ;  we  will  wait  for  you ;  we  will  lend  you  our 

help  ;  we  will  deny  ourselves  of  some 

A  christian      thinsfs,  both  opinionative  and   practi- 
spiiit  ^  ^  ^  .,,         -^ 

cal,  for  your  sake  :  we  will  not  enter 

into  doubtful  disputations  before  you  :  we  will  be 

made  all  things  to  you,  rather  than  you  shall  be 

left  behind.  1  Thess.  5:14;  Rom.  14  ;  1  Cor.  8:9- 

13  ;  9  :  22. 

Now  all  this  while  they  were  at  Gaius's  door ; 
and  behold,  as  they  were  thus  in  the  heat  of  their 
discourse,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  came  by,  with  his 
crutches  in  his  hand,  and  he  also  was  going  on 
pilgrimage. 

Feeble.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  to  him, 

Man,  how  camest  thou  hither  1    I  was  but  now 

complaining  that  I  had  not  a  suitable 

fad^^to^lee  companion,  but  thou  art  according  to 
Ready-to-halt   j^y  -vvish.     Welcome,   welcome,   irood 

come.  •'  '  '    o 

Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  I  hope  thou  and  I 
may  be  some  help. 

Ready.  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. 

Feeble.  Nay,  said  he,  though  I  thank  thee  for 


TALK    OF    THE    PILGRIMS.  405 

I 

'  thy  good  will,  I  am  not  inclined  to  halt  before  I  am 
Jame.  Howbeit,  I  think,  when  occasion  is,  it  may 
help  me  against  a  dog. 

Ready.  If  either  myself  or  my  crutches  can 
do  thee  a  pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy  command, 

I  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind. 

r  Thus  therefore  they  went  on.  Mr.  Great-heail 
and  Mr.  Honest  went  before,  Christiana  and  her 
children  went  next,  and  Mr.  Feeble-mind  came  be- 
hind, .  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  with  his  crutches. 
Then  said  Mr.  Honest, 

Hon.  Pray,  Sir,  now  we  are  upon  the  road, 
tell  us  some  profitable  things  of  some 

.        .  New  talk. 

that  have  gone  on  pilgrimage  before  us. 

Great.  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 

i  work  he  had  to  go  through  the  Valley  of  the  Sha- 

I  dow  of  Death.  Also  1  think  you  cannot  but  have 
heard  how  Faithful  was  put  to  it  by  Madam  Wan- 
ton, 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 

I  good  Faithful  was  hardest  put  to  it  with  Shame : 

ihe  was  an  unwearied  one. 

I      Great.  Ay  ;  for,  as  the   pilgrim  well  said,  ho 

I  of  all  men  had  the  wrong  name. 

!      Hon.  But  pray,  Sir,  where  was  it  that  Christian 

i  and  Faithful  met  Talkative  ]  That  same  was  also 
a  notable  one. 


406  TALK    OF    THE    PILGRIMS. 

Great.  He  was  a  confident  fool ;  yet  many 
follow  his  ways. 

Hon.  He  had  like  to  have  beguiled  Faithful. 

Great.  Ay,  but  Christian  put  him  into  a  way 
quickly  to  find  him  out. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  place 
where  Evangelist  met  with  Christian  and  Faith- 
ful, and  prophesied  to  them  what  should  befall 
them  at  Vanity  Fair.  Then  said  their  guide, 
Hereabouts  did  Christian  and  Faithful  meet  with 
Evangelist,  who  prophesied  to  them  of  what  trou- 
bles they  should  meet  with  at  Vanity  Fair. 

Hon.  Say  you  so  ?  I  dare  say  it  was  a  hard 
chapter  that  then  he  did  read  unto  them. 

Great.  It  was  so,  but  he  gave  them  encou- 
ragement withal.  But  what  do  we  talk  of  them  1 
They  were  a  couple  of  lion-like  men  ;  they  had 
set  their  faces  like  a  flint.  Do  not  you  remember 
how  undaunted  they  were  when  they  stood  before 
the  judge  1 

Hon.  Wel^ :   Faithful  bravely  'ouffered. 

Great.  So  he  did,  and  as  brave  things  came 
on't ;  for  Hopeful,  and  some  others,  as  the  story 
relates  it,  were  converted  by  his  death. 

Hon,  Well,  but  jDray  go  on ;  for  you  are  well 
acquainted  with  things. 

Great.  Above  all  that  Christian  met  with 
after  he  had  passed  through  Vanity  Fair,  one  By- 
ends  was  the  arch  one. 

Hon.  By-ends  !   what  was  he  ? 


VANiTV    FAIK.  407 

Great.  A  very  arch  fellow,  a  downright  hy- 
pocrite, one  that  woi^ld  be  religious  whichever 
way  the  world  went;  but  so  cunning  that  he 
would  be  sure  never  to  lose  or  suffer  for  it.  He 
had  liis  mode  of  leiigion  for  every  fresh  occasion, 
and  his  wife  was  as  good  at  it  as  he.  He  would 
turn  from  opinion  to  opinion  ;  yea,  and  plead  for 
so  doing  too.  But  so  far  as  I  could  leani,  he  can\e 
to  an  ill  end  with  his  by-ends,  nor  did  I  ever  hear 
that  any  of  his  children  were  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 

^  •'  "^  They  come 

Fair  is  kept.    So  when  they  saw  that   within  sight  of 

^  ,  ''   .  Vfinity  Fair. 

they  were  so  near  the  town,  they  con- 
sulted with  one  another  how  they  should  pass 
through  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  con- 
ductor of  pilgrims  through  this  town.  Now,  I  am 
acquainted  with  one  Mr.  Mnason,  Acts,  21  :  16,  a 
Cyprusian  by  nation,  an  old  disciple,  at  whose 
house  we  may  lodge.  If  you  think  good  we  will 
turn  in  there. 

Content,  said  old  Honest;  Content,  said  Chris- 
tiana; Content,  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind;  and  so 
they  said  all.  Now  you  must  think  it  was  even- 
tide by  that  they  got  to  the  outside  of  the  town; 
but  Mr.  Great-heart  knew  the  way  to  the  old 
man's  house.    So  thither  they  came ;  and  he  call- 


408  MR.  mxason's  house. 

ed  at  the  door,  and  the  old  man  within  knew  his 

tongue  as  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  1 

They  enter  into  '  .  •'  /»/-,. 

one  Mr.  Mna-   So  they  said,  From  the  house  of  Gains 

son's  to  lodge.  ^  .  •  i     i 

our  friend.  1  promise  you,  said  he, 
you  have  gone  a  good  stitch.  You  may  well  bo 
weary  ;   sit  down.     So  they  sat  down. 

Great.  Then  said  their  guide,  Come,  what 
cheer,  good  sirs  ?  I  dare  say  you  are  welcome  to 
my  friend. 

Mnas.  I  also,  said  Mr.  Mnason,  do  bid  ycm 
welcome ;  and  whatever  you  want,  do  but  say, 
and  we  will  do  what  we  can  to  get  it  for  you. 

Hon.  Our  great  want,  a  while  since,  was  har- 
Theyaregiadof  bor  and  good  company,  and  now  I 

entertainment.      J^Qpg  ^^q  ^^^Ve  both. 

Mnas.  For  harbor,  you  see  what  it  is ;  but  for 
good  company,  that  will  appear  in  the  trial. 

Great.  Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  will  you 
have  the  pilgrims  wp  into  their  lodging  ] 

Mnas.  I  will,  said  Mr.  Mnason.  So  he  had 
them  to  their  respective  places ;  and  also  showed 
them  a  very  fair  dining-room,  where  they  might 
be,  and  sup  together  until  the  time  should  come 
to  go  to  rest. 

Now  when  they  were  seated  in  their  places, 
and  were  a  little  cheery  after  their  journey,  Mr. 
Honest  asked  his  landlord  if  there  was  any  store 
of  good  people  in  the  to^vn. 


MNASON  S    FRIENDS.  409 

Mnas.  We  have  a  few ;  for  indeed  they  are  but 
a  few  when  compared  with  them  on  the  other  side. 

Hon.  But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of  them  1 
for  the  sight  of  good  men  to  them  that 
are  going  on  pilgrimage  is  like  the  ap-   ^TomeT the 
pearing  of  the  moon  and  stars  to  them   |^°'JoP^°p^^  °^ 
that  are  sailing  upon  the  seas. 

Mnas.  Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his 
foot,  and  his  daughter  Grace  came  up.  So  he 
said  unto  her,  Grace,   go  you,  tell  my 

t>  •        -I        Tv^/-i  •        ^TXTi  Some  sent  for. 

iriends,  JNIr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy-man, 
Mr.  Love-saints,  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Peni- 
tent, that  I  have  a  friend  or  two  at  my  house  who 
have  a  mind  this  evening  to  see  them.  So  Grace 
went  to  call  them,  and  they  came ;  and  after  salu- 
tation made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the  table. 
Then  said  Mr.  Mnason  their  landlord,  My  neigh- 
bors, I  have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of  strangers 
come  to  my  house;  they  are  pilgrims  :  they  come 
from  afar,  and  are  goipg  to  mount  Zion.  But  who, 
quoth  he,  do  you  think  this  is  1  pointing  his  finger 
to  Christiana.  It  is  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Chris- 
tian, the  famous  pilgrim,  who,  with  Faithful  his  bro- 
ther, was  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  comfortable  surprise.  They 
then  asked  her  of  her  welfare,  and  if  these  young 
men  were  her  husband's  sons.  And  when  she  had 
told  them  they  were,  they  said,  The  King  whom  you 


410  HONEST    AND    CONTRITE. 

love  and  serve  make  you  as  your  father,  and  bring 
you  where  he  is  in  peace. 

Hon.  Then  Mr.  Honest  (when  they  were  all 

sat  down)  asked  Mr.  Contrite  and  the 

^S5?  li?  Ho-   ^®^^»  ^^  what  posture  their  town  was 

nest    and    Mr.     at  present. 
Contrite.  £^ 

CONT.  You  may  be  sure  we  are 
full  of  hurry  in  fair-time.  'Tis  hard  keeping  our 
hearts  and  spirits  in  good  order  when  we  are  in  a 

cumbered  condition.  He  that  lives  in 
watchfulness."    sucli  a  place  as  this  is,   and  has  to  do 

with  such  as  we  have,  has  need  of  an 
item  to  caution  him  to  take  heed  every  moment  of 
the  day. 

Hon.  But   how    are   your    neighbors   now  for 
quietness  1 

CoNT.  They    are    much    more    moderate  now 

than  formerly.  You  know  how  Chris- 
not^sThot^Tt  tian  and  Faithful  were  used  at  our 
SSi^'"''^  ^^   town;  but  of  late,  I  say,    they  have 

been  far  more  moderate.  I  think  the 
blood  of  Faithful  lieth  as  a  load  upon  them  till 
now ;  for  since  they  buraed  him  they  have  been 
ashamed  to  burn  any  more.  In  those  days  we  were 
afraid  to  walk  the  streets  j  but  now  we  can  show 
5ur  heads.  Then  the  name  of  a  professor  was  odi- 
ous ;  now,  especially  in  some  parts  of  our  town, 
(for  you  know  our  town  is  large,)  religion  is  count- 
ed honorable.  Then  said  Mr.  Oontrite  to  them, 
Pray  how  fareth  it  with  you  in  your  pilgrimage  ] 


STATE    OF    VANITY    FAIR.  411 

how  stands    the    country    affected  towards   you  1 

Hox.  It  happens  to  us  as  it  happeneth  to  way- 
faring men  ;  sometimes  our  way  is  clean,  some- 
times 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  be- 
hind we  know  not ;  but  for  the  most  part  we  find 
it  true  that  has  been  talked  of  old,  A  good  man 
must  suffer  trouble. 

CONTR.  You  talk  of  rubs  :  what  iiibs  have  you 
met  withal  ? 

Hon.  Nay,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart,  our  guide ;  for 
lie  can  give  the  best  account  of  that. 

Great.  We  have  been  beset  three  or  four 
times  already.  First,  Christiana  and  her  children 
were  beset  by  two  ruffians,  who  they  feared  would 
take  away  their  lives.  We  were  beset  by  Giant 
Bloody-man,  Giant  Maul,  and  Giant  Slay-good. 
Indeed,  we  did  rather  beset  the  last  than  were 
beset  by  him.  And  thus  it  was  :  after  we  had  been 
some  time  at  the  house  of  Gaius  mine  host,  and 
of  the  whole  church,  we  were  minded  upon  a  time 
to  take  our  weapons  with  us,  and  go  see  if  we 
could  light  upon  any  of  those  that  are  enemies  to 
ilgrims ;  for  we  heard  that  there  was  a  notable 
one  thereabouts.  Now  Gaius  knew  his  haunt  bet- 
ter than  I,  because  he  dwelt  thereabout.  So  we 
looked,  and  looked,  till  at  last  we  discerned  the 


412  CONFLICTS    OF    CHRISTIANS. 

• 

mouth  of  his  cave  :  then  we  were  glad,  and  pluck- 
ed up  our  spirits.  So  we  approached  up  to  his 
don  ;  and  lo,  when  we  came  there,  he  had  dragged, 
by  mere  force,  into  his  net,  this  poor  man,  Mr. 
Feeble-mind,  and  was  about  to  bring  him  to  his 
end.  But  when  he  saw  us,  supposing,  as  we  thought, 
he  had  another  prey,  he  left  the  poor  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. 

Feeble.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  I  found 
this  true,  to  my  cost  and  comfort :  to  my  cost, 
when  he  threatened  to  pick  my  bones  every  mo- 
ment ;  and  to  my  comfort,  when  I  saw  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  his  friends,  with  their  weapons,  ap- 
proach so  near  for  my  deliverance. 

Holy.  Then  said  Mr.  Holy-man,  There  are 
Mr.  Holy-man's   ^wo    things    that    they    have    need   to 

speech.  possoss  who  go  ou  pilgi'image ;  cou- 
rage, and  an  unspotted  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. 

Mr.  Love.  LovE.  Then  Said  Mr.  Love-saints,  J 

saints'  speech,    ^jope  this  caution  IS  not  needful  among 


MORE    MARRIAGES.  413 

you :  but  truly  there  are  many  that  go  upon  the 
road,  who  rather  declare  themselves  strangers  to 
pilgrimage  than  strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth. 

Dare.  Then  said  Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  'Tis  true. 
They  have  neither  the  pilgrim's  weed,  ^j^j.  Dare-not- 
nor  the  pilgrim's  courage  ;  they  go  not  ^^'^  speech, 
uprightly,  but  all  awry  with  their  feet ;  one  shoe 
goeth  inward,  another  outward ;  and  their  hosen 
are  out  behind :  here  a  rag,  and  there  a  rent,  to 
the  disparagement  of  their  Lord. 

Pen.  These  things,  said  Mr.  Penitent,  they 
ought  to  be  troubled  for ;  nor  are  the  ^^^  Penitent's 
pilgrims  like  to  have  that  gi'ace  put  speech. 
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,  un- 
to which  they  went,  and  refreshed  their  weary 
bodies :  so  they  went  to  rest. 

Now  they  staid  in  the  fair  a  gi-eat  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  stayed  here,  was 
long,  for  it  was  not  now  as  in  former  times. 
Wherefore  the  pilgrims  grew  acquainted  with 
many  of  the  good  people  of  the  town,  and  did 
them  what  service  they  could.  Mercy,  as  she  was 
wont,  labored  much  for  the  poor :  wherefore  their 
bellies  and  backs  blessed  her,  and  she  was  there 


414  A   MONSTER. 

an  ornament  to  her  profession.  And,  to  say  the 
truth,  for  Grace,  Phebe,  and  Martha,  they  were 
all  of  a  very  good  nature,  -and  did  much  good  in 
their  places.  They  were  also  all  of  them  very  fruit- 
ful ;  so  that  Christian's  name,  as  was  said  before 
was  like  to  live  in  the  world.  ■, 

While  they  lay  here  there  came  a  monster  out 
of  the  woods,  and  slew  many  of  the 
people  of  the  town.  It  would  also 
carry  away  their  children,  and  teach  them  to  suck 
its  whelps.  Now  no  man  in  the  town  durst  so 
much  as  face  this  monster ;  but  all  fled  when  they 
heard  the  noise  of  his  coming. 

The  monster  was  like  unto  no  one  beast  on  the 

earth.  •Its    body  was    like   a    dragon, 

JT     and  it  had  seven  heads  and  ten  horns. 

It  made  great  havoc  of  children,  and  yet  it  was 

governed  by  a  woman.  Rev.  17:3.     This  monster 

propounded    conditions   to    men,    and 

His  nature.      ^       ^  n       i      •       i  • 

such  men  as  loved  their  lives  more 
than  their  souls  accepted  of  those  conditions.  So 
they  came  under. 

Now  Mr.  Great-heart,  together  with  those  who 
came  to  visit  the  pilgrims  at  Mr.  Mnason's  house, 
entered  into  a  covenant  to  go  and  engage  this 
beast,  if  perhaps  they  might  deliver  the  people  of 
this  town  from  the  paws  and  mouth  of  this  so  de« 
vouring  a  seipent. 

Then  did  Mr.  Great-heart,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr 
Holy-man,   Mr.  Dare-not-lie,   and   Mr.   Penitent 


II 


THE    MONSTER    RETREATS.  415 

with  their  weapons,  go  forth  to  meet  him.  Now 
the  monster  at  first  was  very  rampant,  and  looked 
upon  these  enemies  with  gi'eat  dis-  jj^^^  j^g  jg  p^. 
dain ;  but  they  so  belabored  him,  s'^s^^- 
being  sturdy  men  at  arms,  that  they  made  him 
make  a  retreat :  so  they  came  home  to  Mr.  Mna 
son's  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.  At 
these  seasons  did  these  valiant  worthies  watch  him 
n,  and  did  still  continually  assault  him  ;  insomuch 
that  in  process  of  time  he  became  not  only  wound- 
ed, but  lame.  Also  he  has  not  made  that  havoc  of 
the  townsmen's  children  as  formerly  he  had  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  reverent  esteem  and  respect  for  them.  Upon 
this  account,  therefore,  it  was,  that  these  pilgrims 
got  not  much  hurt  here.  True,  there  were  some 
of  the  baser  sort  that  could  see  no  more  than  a 
mole,  nor  understand  any  more  than  a  beast; 
uiese  had  no  reverence  for  these  men,  and  took 
no  notice  of  their  valor  and  advectures. 


416  LEAVE    VANITY   FAIR. 


®l)e   gjeoentl)    Stage. 

Well,  the  time  grew  on  that  the  pilgrims  must 
go  on  their  way ;  wherefore  they  prepared  for 
their  jouraey.  They  sent  for  their  friends ;  they 
conferred  with  them ;  they  had  some  time  set 
apart  therein  to  commit  each  other  to  the  pro- 
tection of  their  Prince.  There  were  again  that 
brought  them  of  such  things  as  they  had,  that  were 
fit  for  the  weak  and  the  strong,  for  the  women  and 
the  men,  and  so  laded  them  with  such  things  as 
were  necessary.  Acts,  28  :  10.  Then  they  set 
forward  on  their  way;  and  their  friends  accom- 
panying them  so  far  as,  was  convenient,  they  again 
committed  each  other  to  the  protection  of  their 
King,  and  departed. 

They  therefore  that  were  of  the  pilgrims'  com- 
pany went  on,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before 
them.  Now  the  women  and  children  being  weak- 
ly, they  were  forced  to  go  as  they  could  bear ;  by 
which  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.  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  thoy 


THE    HILL    LUCRE.  417 

had  a  benefit  by  such  a  manly  suffering  as  his  was. 

They  went  on  therefore  after  this  a  good  way 
further,  talking  of  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  how 
Hopeful  joined  himself  to  Christian  after  that 
Faithful  was  dead. 

Now  they  were  come  up  with  the  hill  Lucre, 
where  the  silver  mine  was  which  took  Demas  ofi' 
from  his  pilgrimage,  and  into  which,  as  some 
think.  By-ends  fell  and  perished  j  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 
Buch  knowledge  and  rij^eness  of  wit  as  they  were, 
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,  espe 
cially  if  that  thing  upon  which  they  look  has  an  at- 
tracting virtue  upon  the  foolish  eye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  to 
tlie  river  that  was  on  this  side  of  the  Delectable 
Mountains  ;  to  the  river  where  the  fine  trees  grow 
on  both  sides,  and  whose  leaves,  if  taken  inward- 
ly, are  good  against  surfeits  :  m  here  the  meadows 
are  green  all  the  year  long,  and  where  they  might 
lie  down  safely.     Psalm,  23  :  2. 

By  this  river  side,  in  the  meadows,  there  were 
cotes  and  folds  for  sheep,  a  house  built  for  the 
uounshing  and  bringing  up  of  those  lambs,  the 

Pil.  Progress.  27 


418  HOUSE    FOR   LAMBS. 

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  ga- 
ther these  lambs  with  his  arm,  and  caiTy  them  in 
his  bosom,  and  gently  lead  those  that  were  with 
young.  Heb.  5:2;  Isa.  40  :  11.  Now  to  the  care 
of  this  man  Christiana  admonished  l^er  four  daugh- 
ters to  commit  their  little  ones,  that  by  these  wa- 
ters they  might  be  housed,  harbored,  succored, 
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,  will  bring  them  again ;  he 
will  also  bind  up  that  which  was  broken,  and  will 
strengthen  them  that  are  sick.  Jer.  23  :  4 ;  Ezek. 
34  :  11-16.  Here  they  will  never  want  meat, 
drink,  and  clothing ;  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  nur- 
ture and  admonition,  and  shall  be  taught  to  walk 
in  right  paths,  and  that  you  know  is  a  favor  of  no 
small  account.  Also  here,  as  you  see,  are  delicate 
waters,  pleasant  meadows,  dainty  flowers,  variety 
of  trees,  and  such  as  bear  wholesome  fruit ;  fruit, 
not  like  that  which  Matthew  ate  of,  that  fell  over 
the  wall  out  of  Beelzebub's  garden  ;  but  fruit  that 
procurelh  health  where  there  is  none,  and  that 
continueth  and  inscreaseth  it  where  it  is.  So  they 
were  content  J;o  commit  their  little  ones  to  him; 
and  that  which  was  also  an  encourajjement  to  them 


BY-PATH    MEADOW.  419 

SO  to  do,  was,  for  that  all  this  was  to  be  at  the 
charge  of  the  King,  and  so  was  as  an  hospital  to 
young  children  and  orphans. 

Now  they  went  on.  And  when  they  were  come 
They  bemg  come  ^^  By-path  Meadow,  to  the  stile  OVCI 
to  By-path,  stile,    which  Christian  went  with  his  fellow 

rave   a   mind  ^o 

Lave  a  pluck  with    Hopoful,  when  they  were  taken  by 

Giant  Despair.  ^.-r^  •  i.  t-x,. 

Giant  Despair  and  put  into  Doubting- 
castle,  they  sat  down,  and  consulted  what  was  best 
to  be  done :  to  wit,  now  they  were  so  strong,  and 
had  got  such  a  man  as  Mr.  Great-heart  for  their 
conductor,   whether  they  had   not  best  to   make 
an  attempt  upon  the  giant,   demolish   his  castle, 
and  if  there  were  any  pilgi-ims  in  it,  to  set  them 
at  liberty  before  they  went  any  further.     So  one 
said  one  thing,  and  another  said  the  contrary.    One 
questioned  if  it  was  lawful  to  go  upon  unconse- 
crated  ground ;   another  said  they  might,  provided 
their  end  was  good ;    but   Mr.   Great-heart   said, 
Though  that  assertion  offered  last  cannot  be  uni- 
versally true,  yet  I  have  a  commandment  to  resist 
sin,  to  overcome  evil,  to  fight  the  good  fight  of 
faith :  and  I  pray,  with  whom  should  I  fight  this 
good  fight,   if  not    with    Giant  Despair  ?    I  will 
tlierefore  attempt  the  taking  away  of  his  life,  and 
the  demolishing  of  Doubting-castle.  Then  said  he, 
Who  will  go  with  me  1     Then  said  old  Honest,  I 
will.    And  so  will  we  too,    said   Christiana's  four 
sons,  Matthew,   Samuel,  Joseph,  a^d  James  ;  for 
they  were  young  men  and  strong.   1  John,  2  :  13, 


420  GIANT    DESPAIR, 

14.  So  they  left  the  women  in  the  road,  and  with 
them  Ml.  Feeble-mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt 
with  his  crutches,  to  be  their  guard,  until  they 
came  back  ;  for  in  that  place,  though  Giant  Despair 
dwelt  so  near,  they,  keeping  in  the  road,  a  little 
child  might  lead  them.  Isa.  11:6. 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the  four 
young  men,  went  to  go  up  to  Doubting-castle,  to 
look  for  Giant  Despair.  "^Mien  they  came  at  the 
castle  gate  they  knocked  for  entrance  with  an  un- 
usual 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  Despaii-  ?  Mr. 
Great-heart  replied.  It  is  I,  Great-heart,  one  of  the 
King  of  the  celestial  country's  conductors  of  pil- 
grims to  their  place ;  and  I  demand  of  thee  tliat 
thou  open  thy  gates  for  my  entrance  :  prepare  thy- 
self also  to  fio:ht,  for  I  am  come  to  tcike  away  thy 
head,  and  to  demolish  Doubting-castle. 

Now  Giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a  gianl, 
thought  no  man  could  overcome  him : 

Despair  has  "" 

overcome  an-  and  again  thought  he,  Since  hereto- 
fore I  have  made  a  conquest  of  angels, 
shall  Great-heart  make  me  afi-aid  ?  So  he  har- 
nessed himself,  and  went  out.  He  had  a  cap  c 
steel  upon  his  head,  a  breast-plate  of  fire  girded  to 
him,  and  he  came  out  in  iron  shoes,  \vith  a  great 
club  in  his  hand.  Then  these  six  men  made  up  to 
him,  and  beset  him  behind  and  before :  also,  when 


GIANT    DESPAIR    KILLED.  421 

DiflGiclence  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 

veiy  loth  to  die.    He  stiiiggled  hard,   ^^^^^^"^ 

and  had,  as  they  say,  as  many  Hves  as 

a  cat ;  but  Great-heait  was  his  death,  for  he  left 

him  not  till  he   had   severed  his   head   from  his 

shoulders. 

Then  they  fell  to  demolishing  Doubting-castle, 
and  that  you  know  might  with  ease  be 
done,  since  Giant  Despair  was  dead.  ^*^^^^;^ 
They  v/ere  seven  days  in  destroying 
of  that ;  and  in  it  of  pilgrims  they  found  one  Mr. 
Despondency,  almost  stai-ved  to  death,  and  one 
Much-afi-aid,  his  daughter  :  these  two  they  saved 
alive.  But  it  would  have  made  you  wonder  to 
have  seen  the  dead  bodies  that  lay  here  and  there. 
in  the  castle-yard,  and  how  full  of  dead  men's 
bones  the  duucreon  was. 

A\Tien  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  companions  had 
performed  this  exploit,  they  took  Mr.  Desponden- 
cy, and  his  daughter  Much-afi^d,  into  their  pro- 
tection ;  for  they  were  honest  people,  though  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  companions  they  came,  and 
showed  them  what   they  had  done.    Now  when 


422  THE    PILGRIMS    REJOICING. 

Feeble-mind  and  Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it  was  tlie 
_      ,  head  of  Giant  Despair   indeed,    they 

They  nave  mu-  .  ^  '  ^ 

sic  and  dancing  were  Very  jocund  and  merry.  Now 
Christiana,  if  need  was,  could  play 
upon  the  viol,  and  her  daughter  Mercy  upon  the 
lute  :  so  since  they  were  so  merry  disposed,  she 
played  them  a  lesson,  and  Ready-to-halt  would 
dance.  So  he  took  Despondency's  daughter,  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  music  handsomely. 

As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not  so 
much  to  him ;  he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  danc- 
ing, for  that  he  was  almost  starved.  So  Christiana 
gave  him  some  of  her  bottle  of  spirits  for  present 
relief,  and  then  prepared  him  something  to  eat  ; 
and  in  a  little  time  the  old  gentleman  came  to  him- 
self, and  began  to  be  finely  revived. 

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  high- 
way side,  right  over  against  the  pillar  that  Chris- 
tian erected  for  a  caution  to  pilgrims  that  camo 
after,  to  take  heed  of  entering  into  his  grounds- 
Then  he  writ  under  it  upon  a  marble  stono 
these  verses  following : 

This  is  the  head  of  him  whose  name  only 
In  former  times  did  pilgrims  terrify. 


^^yk 


Gnat-heart  and  his  goodly  company. — p.  423. 


THE    DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS.         423 

His  castle's  down,  and  Diffidence  his  wife 
Brave  Mr.  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  life. 
Despondency,  his  daughter  Much-afraid, 
Great-heart  for  them  also  the  man  has  play'd. 
Who  hereof  doubts,  if  he'll  but  cast  his  eye 
Up  hither,  may  his  scruples  satisfy. 
This  head  also,  when  doubting  cripples  dance, 
Doth  show  from  fears  they  have  deliverance. 

When  these  men  had  thus  bravely  showed  them- 
selves against  Doubting-castle,  and  had  slain  Giant 
Despair  they  went  forward,  and  went  on  till  they 
came  to  the  Delectable  Mountains,  where  Chris- 
tian 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  gi'eat  a  train  fol- 
low 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  ] 

Then  Mr.  Great-heart  replied  ; 

First,  here  is  Christiana  and  her  train. 
Her  sons,  and  her  sons'  wives,  who  like  the  wain, 
Keep  by  the  pole,  and  do  by  compass  steer 
From  sin  to  grace,  else  they  had  not  been  hero. 
Next  hei-e'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. 


424         THE    DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS. 

Despondency,  good  man,  is  coming-  after, 
And  so  also  is  INIuch-afraid,  his  daughter. 
May  we  have  entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  further  go  ?    Let's  know  whereon  to  trust. 

i.'hen  said  the  Shepherds,  This  is  a  comfortahie 

company.  You  are  welcome  to  us  ;  for 

Their  enter-     ^g  havo  for  the  feeble,  as  well  as  for 

tamment.  ' 

the  strong.  Our  Prince  has  an  eye  to 
what  is  done  to  the  least  of  these ;  therefore  infir- 
mity must  not  be  a  block  to  our  entertainment. 
Matt.  25  :  40.  So  they  had  them  to  the  palace 
door,  and  then  said  unto  them,  Come  in,  Mr.  Fee- 
ble-mind ;  come  in,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt ;  come  in, 
Mr.  Despondency,  and  Mrs.  Much-afraid  his 
daughter.  These,  Mr.  Great-heart,  said  the  Shep- 
herds to  the  guide,  we  call  in  by  name,  for  that  they 
are  most  subject  to  draw  back  ;  but  as  for  you,  and 
the  rest  that  are  strong,  we  leave  you  to  your  wont- 
ed liberty.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  This  day  T 
see  that  grace  doth  shine  in  your  faces,  and  that 

you  are  my  Lord's  shepherds  indeed  : 

A  description     ^        ,  ,  i      t    i  t 

of  false  shep-   lor  that  you  have  not  pushed  these  dis- 
eased neither  with  side  nor  shoulder, 
but  have  rather  strewed  their  way  into  the  palace 
with  flowers,  as  you  should.  Ezek.  34  :  21. 

So  the  feeble  and  weak  went  in,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart  and  the  rest  did  follow.  When  they  were 
also  set  down  the  Shepherds  said  to  those  of  the 
weaker  sort.  What  is  it  that  you  would  have  1  for, 
said  they,  all  things  must  be  managed  here  to  the 


THE    DELECTABLE    MOUNTAINS.         425 

supporting  of  the  weak,  as  well  as  to  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  respec 
lively  unto  his  proper  place. 

When  morning  was  come,  because  the  moun- 
tains were  high  and  the  day  clear,  and  because  it 
was  the  custom  of  the  Shepherds  to  show  the  pil- 
grims before  their  departure  some  rarities,  there- 
fore after  they  were  ready,  and  had  refreshed  them- 
selves, the  Shepherds  took  them  out  into  the  fields, 
and  showed  them  first  what  they  had  shown  to 
Chiistian  before. 

Then  they  had  them  to  some  new  places.  The 
first  was  Mount  Marvel,  where  they 

,       ,      T  11111  1 .         Mount  Mai-rel 

looked,  and  beheld  a  man  at  a  dis- 
tance that  tumbled  the  hills  about  with  words. 
Then  they  asked  the  Shepherds  what  that  should 
mean.  So  they  told  them,  that  that  man  was  the 
son  of  one  Mr.  Great-grace,  of  whom  you  read  in 
the  first  part  of  the  records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Pro- 
gi'ess ;  and  he  is  set  there  to  teach  pilgrims  hov/  to 
believe  down,  or  to  tumble  out  of  their  ways,  what 
difficulties  they  should  meet  with,  by  faith.  Mark, 
11  :  23,  24.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  know 
him,  he  is  a  man  above  many. 

Then  they  had  them  to  another,  place,  called 
Mount    Innocence.     And    there    tlicy     ..     ^  . 
saw  a  man  clothed  all  in  white ;   and         cpnco. 


426  MOUNT    CHARITY. 

two  men,  Prejudice  and  Ill-will  continually  casting 
dirt  upon  him.  Now  behold,  the  dirt,  whatsoever 
they  cast  at  him,  would  in  a  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  1  The  Shepherds  answered,  This 
man  is  named  Godly-man,  and  this  garment  is  to 
show  the  innocency  of  his  life.  Now  those  that 
throw  dirt  at  him  are  such  as  hate  his  well-doing ; 
but,  as  you  see,  the  dirt  will  not  stick  upon  his 
clothes,  so  it  shall  be  with  him  that  liveth  inno- 
cently 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,  where  they  showed  them  a 
man  that  had  a  bundle  of  cloth  lying 
before  him,  out  of  w^hich  he  cut  coats  and  gar- 
ments 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  1  This  is,  said  the 
Shepherds,  to  show  you,  that  he  who  has  a  heart 
to  give  of  his  labor  to  the  poor,  shall  never  want 
wherewithal.  He  that  watereth,  shall  be  watered 
himself.  And  the  cake  that  the  widow  gave  to  the 
prophet  did  not  cause  that  she  had  the  less  in  her 
barrel. 

They  had  them  also  to  the   place  where  they 


FOOL    AND    WANT-WIT.  427 

saw   one    Fool,    and    one    Want-wit,      ^,         ,    , 

\  .         .  '        The  work  of 

washinsr  an  Ethiopian,  with  intention   one  Foo!   and 

,       ,  .  1  •  ,  1  1  0"6    Want- wit. 

to  make  him  white  ;  but  the  more  they 
washed  him  the  blacker  he  was.  Then  they  asked 
the  Shepherds  what  that  should  mean.  So  they 
told  them,  saying.  Thus  it  is  with  the  vile  person  ; 
all  means  used  to  get  such  a  one  a  good  name, 
shall,  in  conclusion,  tend  but  to  make  him  more 
abominable.  Thus  it  was  with  the  pharisees  ;  and 
so  it  shall  be  with  all  hypocrites. 

Then  said  Mercy,  the  wife  of  Matthew,  to  Chris- 
tiana her  mother.    Mother,   I   would,      ..        , 

Mercy  has  a 

if  it  miffht  be,  see  the  hole  in  the  hill,  ^^^^  to  see  the 
or  that  commonly  called  the  by-way  to 
hell.  So  her  mother  brake  her  mind  to  the  Shep- 
herds. Then  they  went  to  the  door ;  it  was  on  the 
side  of  an  hill ;  and  they  opened  it,  and  bid  Mercy 
hearken  a  while.  So  she  hearkened,  and  heard  one 
saying.  Cursed  be  my  father  for  holding  of  my 
feet  back  from  the  way  of  peace  and  life.  Another 
said,  Oh,  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 
was  as  if  the  very  earth  groaned  and  quaked  un- 
der 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  shown  them  aJl 


428  A    LOOKING-GLASS. 

these  tilings,  then  they  had  them  back  to  the  pa- 
lace, and  entertained  them  with  what  the  house 
would  afford.  But  Mercy,  being  a  young  and  mar- 
ried woman,  longed  for  something  that 
and^'f  r*^ha^'  ^^®  ^^^  there,  but  was  ashamed  to  ask. 
Her  mother-in-law  then  asked  her 
what  she  ailed,  for  she  looked  as  one  not  well. 
Then  said  Mercy,  There  is  a  looking-glass  hangs 
up  in  the  dining-room,  off  which  I  cannot  take  my 
mind ;  if,  therefore,  I  have  it  not,  I  think  I  shall 
miscarry.  Then  said  her  mother,  I  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 
itwasthe^word  features  exactly;  and  turn  it  but  an- 
other way,  and  it  would  show  one  the 
very  face  and  similitude  of  the  Prince  of  pilgrims 
himself  Yes,  I  have  talked  with  them  that  can 
tell,  and  they  have  said  that  they  have  seen  the 
very  crown  of  thorns  upon  his  head  by  looking  in 
that  glass ;  they  have  therein  also  seen  the  holes 
in  his  hands,  his  feet,  and  his  side.  Yea,  such  an 
excellency  is  there  in  this  glass,  that  it  will  show 
him  to  one  where  they  have  a  mind  to  see  him ; 


GIFTS    OF    THE    SHEPHERDS.  429 

whether  living  or  dead;  whether  in  earth  or  in 
heaven ;  whether  in  a  state  of  humiUation  or  in  his 
exaltation ;  whether  coming  to  suffer  or  coming  to 
reign.  James,  1  :  23 ;  1  Cor.  13  :  12  ;  2  Cor.  3  :  IS. 

Christiana  therefore  went  to  the  Shepherds 
apart :  now  the  names  of  the  Shepherds  were 
Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere, 
and  said  unto  them,  There  is  one  of  my  daugh- 
ters, a  breeding  woman,  that  I  think  doth  long  for 
something  that  she  hath  seen  in  this  house  ;  and 
she  thinks  that  she  shall  miscarry  if  she  should  by 
you  be  denied. 

Experience.  Call  her,  call  her,  she  shall  as- 
suredly have  what  we  can  help  her  to.  So  they 
called  her,  and  said  to  her,  Mercy,  what  is  that 
thing  thou  wouldst  have  1  Then  she  blushed,  and 
said.  The  gi-eat  glass  that  hangs  up  in  the  dining- 
room.     So  Sincere  ran  and  fetched  it, 

.  .  .  She  doth  not 

and  with  a  joyful  consent  it  was  given   lose  her  long- 
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 
tilings  as  they  desired,  and  to  their  husbands  great 
commendations,  for  that  they  had  joined  with  Mr. 
G  reat-heart  in  the  slaying  of  Giant  Despair  and 
the  demolishing  of  Doubting-castle. 

About  Christiana's  neck  the  Shep-   ?,°^;^|omS^ 
herds  put  a  bracelet,  and  so  did  they   pi.grims. 
I  about  the  necks  of  her  four  daughters  ;  also  they 


430  THE    PILGRIMS    AI>ORX£D. 

put  ear-rings  in  their  ears,  and  jewels  on  their 
foreheads. 

AVhen  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they  let 
them  go  in  peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those  cer- 
tain cautions  which  before  were  given  to  Christian 
and  his  companion.  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  when  the  danger  was  nigh  the  approaching. 
What  cautions  Christian  and  his  companion  had 
received  of  the  Shepherds,  they  had  also  lost  by 
that  the  time  was  come  that  they  had  need  to  put 
them  in  practice.  Wherefore,  here  wa.s  the  advan- 
tage that  this  company  bad  over  the  other. 

From  thence  they  went  on  singing,  and  they  said. 

Behold  how  fitly  are  the  stages  set 

For  their  reUef  that  pilgrims  are  become. 

And  bow  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,  though  pilgrims,  joyful  lives  may  live. 

They  do  upon  us  too,  such  things  bestow, 
That  show  we  pilgrims  are  where'er  we  go. 


ONE    TURN-AWAY.  431 


@:i)e   (!:i9l)tl)   Stage. 

Wlien  they  were  gone  fi-om  the  Shepherds  they 
quickly  came  to  the  place  where  Christian  met 
with  one  Turn-away  that  dwelt  in  the  town  of 
Apostacy.  Wherefore  of  him  Mr.  Great-heart 
their  guide  did  now  put  them  in  mind,  saying,  This 
is  the  place  where  Christian  met  with  one  Tura- 
away,  who  carried  with  him  the  charactei  of  his 
rebellion  at  his  back.  And  this  I  have  to  say  con- 
cerning this  man ;  he  would  hearken  to  no  coun- 
sel, but  once  a  falling,  persuasion  could  not  stop 
him.  When  he  came  to  the  place  where  the  cross 
and  sepulchre  were,  he  did  meet  with 
one  that  bid  him  look  there ;  but  he  away  managed 
gnashed  with  his  teeth,  and  stamped,  '  ^^°'  ^^^* 
and  said  he  was  resolved  to  go  back  to  his  own 
town.  Before  he  came  to  the  gate  he  met  with 
Evangelist,  who  offered  to  lay  hands  on  him,  to 
turn  him  into  the  way  again ;  but  this  Turn- away 
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  over 
with  blood.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Who  art 
thou  ]    The  man  made  answer,  saying,  T  am  one 


432  V"ALIAXT-FOE,-TRUTH. 

whose  name  is  Valiant-for-truth.    I  am  a  pilgrim, 
and  am   gjoino^  to   the  Celestial  City. 

One  VaUant-    t.  _.  5"        ^  .  ,  •' 

for-truth  beset  Now,  as  i  was  iH  i»y  Way,  there  were 
thre^  men  that  did  beset  me,  and  pro- 
pounded unto  me  these  three  things  :  1.  Whether 
I  would  become  one  of  them.  2.  Or  go  back  from 
whence  I  came.  3.  Or  die  upon  the  place.  Prov. 
1  :  11-14.  To  the  first  I  answered,  I  had  been  a 
true  man  for  a  long  se::son,  and  therefore  it  could 
not  be  expected  that  I  should  now  cast  in  my  lot 
with  thieves.  Then  they  demanded  what  I  would 
say  to  the  second.  So  I  told  them  the  place  from 
whence  I  came,  had  I  not  found  incommodity  there, 
I  had  not  forsaken  it  at  all ;  but  finding  it  alto- 
gether 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  far  more  dear  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, 
Wild-head,  Inconsiderate,  and  Pragmatic,  drew 
upon  me,  and  I  also  drew  upon  them.  So  we  fell 
to  it,  one  against  three,  for  the  space  of  above 
three  hours.  They  have  left  upon  me,  as  you  see, 
Bome  of  the  marks  of  their  valor,  and  have  al-r. 
carried  away  v\dth  them  some  of  mine.  They  are 
but  just  now  gone :  I  suppose  they  might,  as  the 
saying  is,  hear  your  hoi;se  dash,  and  so  they  bo- 
took  themselves  to  flij^ht. 


HIS    VICTORY.  433 

Great.  But  here  was  great  odds,  three 
against  one. 

Valiant.  'Tis  time;  but  little  or  more  are 
nothing  to  him  that  has  the  truth  on  his  side  . 
"•■  Though  an  host  should  encamp  against  me," 
said  one,  Psalm  27  :  3,  "  my  heart  shall  not  tear: 
thousfh  wai*  should  lise  agjainst  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  Samson  slay  with  the  jaw-bone 
of  an  ass ! 

Great.  Then  said  the  guide,  Why  did  you  not 
cry  out,  that  some  might  have  come  in  for  your 
succor  ? 

Valiant.  So  I  did  to  my  King,  who  I  knew 
could  hear  me,  and  afford  invisible  help,  and  that 
was  sufficient  for  me. 

Great.  Then  said  Great-heart  to  Mr.  Valiant- 
for-truth,  thou  hast  worthily  behaved  thyself;  let 
me  see  thy  sword.  So  he  showed  it  him. 

When  he  had  taken  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked 
thereon  a  while,  he  said.  Ha  !  it  is  a  right  Jerusa- 
lem blade. 

Valiant.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of  these 
blades,  with  a  hand  to  wield  it,  and  skill  to  use  if, 
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  edge  will  never  blunt.  It  will  cut 
desh  and  bones,  and  soul  and  spirit,  and  all 
Heb.  4  :  12. 

Ptl.  Progresj.  2*i 


434  HIS    VICTOKY. 

Great.  But  you  fought  a  great  while;  I  won- 
der you  was  not  weary. 

Valiant.  I  fought  till  my  sword  did  cleave  to 
my  hand ;  and  then  they  were  joined 

The  word.  .  .„  ,  *^  „ 

The  faith.       together  as  it  a  sword  gi'ew  out  oi  my 
"  ^^  '  arm ;  and  when  the  blood  ran  through 

my  fingers,  then  I  fought  with  most  courage. 

Great.  Thou  hast  done  well;  thou  hast  re- 
sisted unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.  Thou  shalt 
abide  by  us,  come  in  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 
was  delighted  in  him,  (for  he  loved  one  greatly 
that  he  found  to  be  a  man  of  his  hands,)  and  be- 
cause there  were  in  company  those  that  were  fee- 
ble and  v/eak,  therefore  he  questioned  with  him 
about  many  things ;  as  first,  what  countryman 
he  was. 

Valiant.  I  am  of  Dark-land;  for  there  v/as  i 
bom,  and  there  my  father  and  mother  are  still. 

Great.  Dark-land!  said  the  guide;  doth  not' 
that  lie  on  the  same  coast  with  the  City  of  De- 
struction ] 

Valiant.  Yes,  it  doth.  Now  that  which  caus-j 

ed  me  to  come  on  pilgrimage  was  this,.! 

liant  came  to    We  had  one  Mr.  Tell-true  come  into! 

go  on  pilgi-im-  i  i     •        i  i       i 

l^ge.  our  parts,  and  he  told  it  about  what] 

Christian  had  done  that  went  from  tbel 


GREAT-HEART    Ax\'D    VALIANT.  435 

City  of  Destruction  ;  namely,  how  he  had  forsaken 
his  wife  and  children*  and  had  betaken  himself  to 
a  pilgrim's  life.  It  was  also  confidently  reported 
how  he  had  killed  a  serp'jnt  that  did  come  out  to 
resist  him  in  his  journey  ;  and  how  he  got  through 
to  whither  he  intended.  It  was  also  told  w^hat  wel 
come  he  had  at  all  his  Lord's  lodgings,  especially 
when  he  came  to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City  • 
for  there,  said  the  man,  he  was  received  with  sound 
of  trumpet  by  a  company  of  shining  ones.  He  told 
also  how  all  the  bells  in  the  city  did  ring  for  joy 
at  his  reception,  and  what  golden  garments  he  was 
clothed  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. 

Great,   You  came  in  at  the  gate,  did  you  not  1 

Valiant.  Yes,  yes ;  for  the  same 
man  also  told  us,   that    all   would  be      He  be-ina 
nothing  if  we  did   not  begin  to  enter  ^°^^^- 

this  way  at  the  ccate. 

Great.   Look    you,    said   the   guide  to  Chris- 
tiana, the  pilgrimage  of  your  husband      christians 
and   what  he    has  gotten    thereby,  is   name  famous, 
spread  abroad  far  and  near. 

Valiant.  Why,  is  this  Christian's  wife? 

Great.  Y^es,  that  it  is  j  and  these  also  are  his 
four  sons. 


436  TALK    OF    VALIANT 

Valiant.  What,  and  going  on  pilgrimage  too  ] 

Great.  Yes,  verily,  they  are  following  after. 

Valiant.  It  glads  me  at  the  heart.   Good  man, 

how  joyful  will  he  be  when  he  shaJl 

He  is  much  j|-j  ^^  ^-^^.^  would  not  go  with  him, 

rejoiced    to  ^         _    o 

SCO    Chris-     ygj;  to  enter  after  him  in  at  the  gates 

tian'a    wife.       -^  .  .  ^ 

into  the  Celestial  City. 

Great.  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  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. 

Great.  Do  you  think  they  shall  know  them- 
selves then,  or  that  they  shall  rejoice  to  see  them- 
selves in  thpt  bliss  ]  and  if  they  think  they  shall 
know  and  do  this,  v/hy  not  know  others,  and  re- 
joice in  their  welfare  also  1  Again,  since  relations 
are  our  second  self,  though  that  state  will  be  dis- 
solved there,  ;;'et  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,  1  perceive  whereabouts  yon 
are  as  to  this.  Have  you  any  more  things  to  ask 
me  about  my  beginning  to  come  on  pilgrimage  ? 

Great.  Yes ;  were  your  father  and  mother 
willing  that  you  should  become  a  pil,gi'im  ? 

Valiant.  O  no;  they  used  all  moans  imagin- 
able to  persuade  me  to  stay  at  home. 


AND    GREAT-HEART.  437 

G  REAT.  Why,  what  could  they  say  against  it  ? 

Valiant.  They  said  it  was  an  idle  life ;  and 
if  I  myself  were  not  inclined  to  sloth 
and  laziness,  I  would  never  counte-   biingSuTcksSr 
nance  a  pilgrim's  condition.  werJId/iL^  Ws 

Great.  And   what   did  they  say   ^^y- 
else? 

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. 

Great.  Did  they  show  you  wherein  this  way 
is  so  dangerous  ? 

Valiant.  Yes;  and  that  in  many  particulars. 

Great.  Name  some  of  them. 

Valiant.  They  told  me  of  the  Slough  of  Be, 
spond,  where  Christian  was  well  nigh 
smothered.  They  told  me  that  there  '^bn^'"fbioSr 
were  archers  standing  ready  in  Beel- 
zebub-castle to  shoot  them  who  should  knock  at 
the  Wicket-gate  for  entrance.  They  told  me  also 
of  the  wood  and  dark  mountains ;  of  the  hill  Diffi- 
culty ;  of  the  lions  ;  and  also  of  the  three  giants, 
Bloody-man,  Maul,  and  Slay-good.  They  said, 
moreover,  that  there  was  a  foul  fiend  haunted  tlie 
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  dark- 
ness, where  the  way  is  full  of  snares,  pits,  traps, 
and  gins.    They  told  me  also  of  giant  Despair,  of 


438  TALK    OF    VALIANT 

Doubting-castle,  and  of  the  ruin  that  the  pilgnnis 
met  with  here.  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  there  was  no  bridge ;  and  that  that  river  did 
lie  betwixt  me  and  the  Celestial  Country. 

Great.  And  was  this  alii 

Valiant.  No.  They  also  told  me  that  this  way 
was  full  of  deceivers,  and  of  persona 

The  second.        ,  ,  .  .        ,  ^  , 

that  lay  m  wait  there  to  turn  good 
men  out  of  the  path. 

Great.  But  how  did  they  make  that  ontl 

Valiant.  They  told  me  that  Mr.  Worldly- 
wiseraan  did  lie  there  in  wait  to  deceive.  They 
said  also,  that  there  were  Formality  and  Hypo- 
crisy 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  was  sent  back  to  the  hole  that  was  in  the  side 
of  the  hill,  and  made  to  go  the  by-way  to  hell. 

Great.  I  promise  you  this  was  enough  to  dis- 
courage you  ;  but  did  they  make  an  end  here  1 

Valiant.  No,  stay.   They  told  me  also  of  many 

that  had  tried  that  way  of  old,  and  that 
The  third.        .      ^  -^      ,  . 

had  gone  a  great  way'  therein,  to  see 

if  they  could  find  something  of  the  glory  there 

that  so  many  had  so  much  talked  of  from  time  to 

time,  and  how  they  came  back  again,  and  befooled 


AND    GREAT-HEART.  439 

themselves  for  setting  a  foot  out  of  dcjors  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  what  they  could 
find,  but  not  one  of  them  had  found  so  much  ad- 
vantage by  going  as  amounted  to  the  weight  of  a 
feather. 

Great.  Said  they  any  thing  more  to  discour- 
age you  1 

Valiant.  Yes.  They  told  me  of  one  Mr.  Fear 
ing-,  who  was  a  pilo^rim,  and  how  he 

„  °     ,  ,  .  1-11  The  fourth. 

found  his  way  so  solitary  that  he  never 
had  a  comfortable  hour  therein  ;  also,  that  Mr.  De- 
spondency had  like  to  have  been  starved  therein : 
yea,  and  also  (which  I  had  almost  forgot)  that  Chris- 
tian himself,  about  whom  there  has  been  such  a 
noise,  after  all  his  adventures  for  a  celestial  crown, 
was  certainly  drowned  in  the  Black  River,  and 
never  went  a  foot  further ;  however  it  was  smo- 
thered up. 

Great.  And  did  none  of  these  things  discou- 
rage you  1 

Valiant.  No  ;  they  seemed  but  as  so  many 
aothings  to  me. 

Great.  How  came  that  about  ] 

Valiant.  Why,   I   still    beUeved     ^owhegot 
what  Mr.  Tell-true  had  said  ;  and  that      over  these 

Btumbung- 

cftrried  me  beyond  them  all.  blocks. 


440  THE    PILGRIM'S    SONG. 

Great.  Then  this  was  your  victory,  even  your 
faith. 

Valiant.  It  w^as  so.  I  believed,  and  therefore 
came  out,  got  into  the  vv^ay,  fought  all  that  set 
themselves  against  me,  and,  by  believing,  am  come 
to  this  place. 

Who  would  true  valor  see, 

Let  him  come  hither; 
One  here  will  constant  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather , 
There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent 
His  first  avow'd  intent 

To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Whoso  beset  him  round 

With  dismal  stories. 
Do  but  themselves  confound ; 

His  strength  the  more  is. 
No  lion  can  him  fright, 
He'll  with  a  giant  fight, 
But  he  will  have  a  right 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin  nor  foul  fiend 
Can  daunt  his  spiiit; 
He  knows  he  at  the  end 
Shall  life  inherit. 
'     Then  fancies  fly  away 

He'll  not  fear  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.     And  that  place  was  all  grown  over 


ENCHANTED    GROUND.  441 

witli  briers  and  thorns,  excepting  here  and  there, 
where  was  an  enchanted  arbor,  upon  which  if  a 
man  sits,  or  in  which  if  a  man  sleeps,  it  is  a  ques- 
tion, some  say,  whether  ever  he  shall  rise  or  wake 
again  in  this  world.  Over  this  forest,  therefore, 
they  went  both  one  and  another,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart  went  before,  for  that  he  was  the  guide ;  and 
Mr.  Valiant-for-truth  came  behind,  being  rear- 
guard, for  fear  lest  peradventure  some  fiend,  or 
dragon,  or  giant,  or  thief,  should  fall  upon  their 
rear,  and  so  do  miscliief.  They  went  on  here,  each 
man  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand ;  for  they 
knew  it  was  a  dangerous  place.  Also  tbey  cheered 
up  one  another  as  well  as  they  could.  Feeble- 
mind,  Mr.  Great-heart  commanded  should  come 
up  after  him ;  and  jNIr.  Despondency  was  under 
the  eye  of  ]Mr.  Valiant. 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great  mist  and 
darkness  fell  upon  them  all;  so  that  they  could 
scarce,  for  a  great  while,  the  one  see  the  other. 
Wherefore  they  were  forced,  for  some  time,  to 
feel  one  for  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  through  the  encouraging  words  of  him 
that  led  in  the  front,  and  of  him  that  brought  them 
up  behind,  they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag 
along. 


442  THE    ARBOR. 

The  way  also  here  was  very  wearisome,  through 
dirt  and  slabbiness.  Nor  was  there,  on  all  this 
ground,  so  much  as  one  inn  or  victualling-houso 
wherein  to  refresh  the  feebler  sort.  Here,  there- 
fore, 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 
m  the  mire ;  while  one  cries  out,  I  am  down  ;  and 
another.  Ho,  where  are  you  1  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  pro- 
.       ,  misin^   much    refreshino^    to    the    pil- 

An  arbor  on  ^       o  ^  o  r 

the  enchanting  grims ;  for  it  was  finely  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,  wa=5 
tempting;  for  the  pilgrims  already  began  to  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  aught  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  the  dangers  when 
they  were  at  them,  that  usually  v/hen  they  were 
nearest  to  them  they  did  most  pluck  up  their  spirits, 
and  hearten  one  another  to  deny  the  flesh.  This 
Tiie  name  of  arbor  was  called  The  Slothful's  Friend,  j 
uie  arbor.       ^^^  ^v^as  made  on  purpose  to  allure,  j 


THE    MAP.  443 

if  it  might  be,  sume  of  the  pilgrims  there  to  take 
up  their  rest  when  weary. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  in 
this  their  soUtary  ground  till  they  came  rj^^  ^ay  diffi- 
to  a  place  at  which  a  man  is  apt  to  "^"^^^  ^"  ^"'^• 
lose  his  way.  Now,  though  when  it  was  light  their 
guide  could  well  enough  tell  how  to  miss  those, 
ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the  dark  he  was  put 
to  a  stand.  But  he  had  in  his  pocket  -pjie  guide  has 
a  map  of  all  ways  leading  to  or  from  feSV^t^T 
the  celestial  city  ;  wherefore  he  struck  fr°°^  the  city. 
a  light,  (for  he  never  goes  without  his  tinder-box 
also,  and  takes  a  view  of  his  book  or  map,  which 
bids  him  to  be  careful  in  that  place  to  turn  to  the 
riofht  hand.  And  had  he  not  been  careful  here  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 
pilcrrimage    but    would   have    one    of 

^    ^  °  ,  ,  God's  book. 

these  maps   about  him,    that  he  may 

look,  when  he  is  at  a  stand,  which  is  the  way  he 

must  take. 

Then  they  went  on  in  this  Enchanted  Ground 
till    they    came    to    where   there    was 
another  arbor,  and  it  was  built  by  the   and  two  asleep 
highway-side.    And  in  that  arbor  there 


444  HEEDLESS    AND    TOO-BOLD. 

lay  two  men,  whose  names  were  Heedless  and 
Too-bold.  These  two  went  thus  far  on  pilgrimage ; 
but  here,  being  wearied  with  their  journey,  they 
sat  down  to  rest  themselves,  and  so  fell  fast  asleep. 
When  the  pilgi'ims  saw  them,  they  stood  still  and 
bhook  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  awake  them, 
that  is,  if  they  could;  but  with  this  caution,  name- 
ly, to  take  heed  that  they  themselves  did  not  sit 
down  nor  embrace  the  offered  benefit  of  that  arbor. 
So  they  went  in,  and  spake  to  the  men,  and 
^^     .,   .       called  each  by  his  name,  for  the  Sfuide, 

The  pilgrans  ^  •'  '  o  ' 

tiy  to  awake   it  seems,  did  know  them ;  but  there 

them.  . 

was  no  voice  nor  answer.  1  hen  the 
guide  did  shake  them,  and  do  what  he  could  to 
disturb  them.  Then  said  one  of  them,  I  will  pay 
you  when  I  take  my  money.  At  which  the  guide 
shook  his  head.  I  will  fight  so  long  as  I  can  hold 
my  sword  in  my  hand,  said  the  other.  At  that, 
one  of  the  children  laughed. 

Then  said  Christiana,  What  is  the  meaninsf  of 

o 

Their  endeavor  this  1  The  guide  Said,  They  talk  in 
is  fruitless.  ^|-jg'^  sleep.  If  you  strike  them,  beat 
them,  or  whatever  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 


ENCHANTED    GROUND.  44o 

of  a  ship,  Prov.  23  :  34,  35,  When  I  awake,  1  will 
seek  it  yet  again.  You  know  when  men  talk  in 
their  sleep  they  say  any  thing;  but  their  words 
are  not  governed  either  by  faith  or  reasiMi. 
There  is  an  incoherency  in  their  words  now,  as 
there  was  before  betwixt  their  going  on  pilgrimage 
and  sitting  down  here.  This,  then,  is  the  mischief 
of  it :  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  de- 
sirous to  sit  down  as  when  they  are  weary  1  and 
when  so  like  to  be  weary  as  when  almost  at  their 
journey's  end  1  Therefore  it  is,  I  say,  that  the 
Enchanted  Ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the  land 
Beulah,  and  so  near  the  end  of  their  race.  Where- 
fore 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  awake  them. 

Then  the  pilgi'ims  desired,  with  trembhng,  to 
go  forward  ;  only  they  prayed  their  guide  to  strike 
a  light,  that  they  might  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by 
the  help  of  the  light  of  a  lantern.    So  he  struck  a 
.light,  and  they  went  by  the  help  of  that 
through  the  rest  of  this   way,   though     '^^t^e'jfjjj^"^ 
the  darkness   was    very  great.  2  Pet. 
1  :  19.  But  the  children  began  to  be  sorely  weary, 


446  STAND-FAST    JOINS    THEM. 

and  tliey  cried  out  unto  Him  that  loveth  pilgrims 
to  make  their  way  more  comfortable, 
cry  for  weaii-  So  by  that  they  had  gone  a  little  fur- 
ther 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  they  were  almost  at  the  end  of  this 
ground  they  perceived    that  a  little  before  them 
was  a  solemn  noise  as  of  one  that  was  much  con- 
cerned. So  they  went  on,  and  looked 
on  Us  knces"in    boforc  them  :   and  behold  they  saw,  as 
Groui'd'''^"'^'''^    ^^^y  thought,  a  man  upon  his  knees, 
v/ith   hands    and   eyes   lifted   up,    and 
speaking,  as  they  thought,'  earnestly  to  one  that 
was  above.     They  drew  nigh,  but  could  not  tell 
what  he  said ;  so  they  went  softly  till  he  had  done 
When  he  had  dorte  he  got  up,   and  began  to  run 
towards  the  Celestial  City.    Then  Mr.  Great-heart 
called  after  him,  saying,  Soho,  friend  !   let  us  have 
your  company,   if  you  go,  as  I  suppose  you  dcj,  l 
the  Celestial  City.     So  the  man  sto])ped,  and  thr 
came  up  to  him.     But  as  soon  as  Mr.  Honest  suv 
him  he  said,  I  know  this  man.    Then  said  Mr.  Va 
liant-for-truth,  Prythee,  who  is  it  1    It  is  one,  said 
he,    that    comes    from    whereabout    I 
"^Sta^SL  ^     dwelt.     His  name  is  Stand-fast ;  he  is 
certainly  a  right  good  pilgrim. 
So  they  came  up  to  one  another ;  and  presently 


STAND-FAST    AND    HONEST.  417 

Stand-fast  said  to  old  Honest,  Ho,  father  Honest, 
are  you  there  1  Ay,  said  he,  that  I  am, 

*l  -D-    1,4.      1    J         Talk  betwixt 

as  sure  as  you  are  there.  Kight  glad  him  and  Mr. 
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  on  your  knees.  Then 
Mr.  Stand-fast  blushed,  and  said,  But  why,  did 
you  see  me  ]  Yes,  that  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  could  I  think  ?  I  thought  we  had 
an  honest  man  upon  the  road,  and  therefore  should 
have  his  company  by  and  by.  If  you  thouG^ht 
not  amiss,  said  Stand-fast,  how  happy  am  I  !  But 
if  I  be  not  as  I  should,  'tis  I  alone  must  bear  it. 
That  is  true,  said  the  other ;  but  your  fear  doth 
further  confirm  me  that  thing^s  are  rioht  betwixt 
the  Pnnce  of  pilgiims  and  your  soul.  For  he  saith, 
"  Blessed  is  the  man  that  feareth  always."  Prov. 
28  :  14. 

Valiant.  Well  but,  brother,  I  pray  thee  tell 
us  what  was  it  that  was  the  cause  of 
thy  being  upon  thy  knees  even  now:    him  afprayor 
was  it  for  that  some  special  mercy  laid   ^ 
obligations  upon  thee,  or  how  1 

Stand.  Why,  we  are,  as  you  see,  upon  the 
Enchanted  Ground  ;  and  as  I  was  com- 
ing along  I  was  musing  with  myr;elf  of    JJJ^t^VeJch^ 
what  a  danQ-erous  nature  the  road  in     Wm  upon  his 

■^  knees. 

this  place  was,  and  how  many  that  had 


443  MADAM    BUBBLE. 

LJine  even  thus  far  on  pilgi'image  had  here  been 
stopped  and  been  destroyed.  I  thought  also  of  the 
manner  of  the  death  with  which  this  place  destroy- 
eth  men.  Those  that  die  here,  die  of  no  violent 
distemper :  the  death  which  such  die  is  not  griev- 
ous 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  him,  said, 
Did  you  see  the  two  men  asleej)  in  the  arbor  1 

Stand.  Ay,  ay,  I  saw  Heedless  and  Too-bold 
there ;  and  for  aught  I  know,  there  they  will  lie 
till  they  rot.  Prov.  10:7.  But  let  me  go  on  with 
my  tale.  As  I  was  thus  musing,  as  I  said,  there 
was  one  in  very  pleasant  attire,  but  old,  who  pre- 
sented herself  to  me,  and  offered  me  three  things, 
to  wit,  her  body,  her  purse,  and  her  bed.  Now 
the  truth  is,  I  was  both  weary  and  sleepy.  I  am 
also  as  poor  as  an  owlet,  and  that  perhaps  the 
witch  knew.  Well,  I  repulsed  her  once  and  again, 
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  1 
would  be  ruled  by  her,  she  would  make  me  great 
and  happy;  for,  said  she,  I  am  the  mistress  of  the 
world,  and  men  are  made  happy  by  me.  Then  I 
asked  her  name,  and  she  told  me  it  was 
bie.  or  this  vain  Madam  Bubble.  This  set  me  further 
from  her;  but  she  still  followed  me 
with  enticements.   Then  I  betook  me,  as  you  saw 


MADAM    BUBBLE.  449 

to  my  knees,  and  with  hands  lifted  up,  and  cries 
I  prayed  to  Him  that  had  said  he  would  help.  So 
just  as  you  came  up  the  gentle-woman  went  her 
way.  Then  I  continued  to  give  thanks  for  this  ray 
gi'eat  deliverance  ;  for  I  verily  believe  she  intended 
no  good,  but  rather  sought  to  make  stop  of  me  in 
my  journey. 

Hox.  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. 

Stand.  Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

Hon.  Madam  Bubble  !  Is  she  not  a  tall,  come- 
ly dame,  somewhat  of  a  swarthy  complexion  1 

Stand.  Right,  you  hit  it :  she  is  just  such  a  one. 

Hon.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly,  and 
give  you  a  smile  at  the  end  of  a  sentence  1 

Stand.  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 
money,  as  if  that  was  her  heart's  delight  ] 

Stand.  'Tis  just  so;  had  she  stood  by  all  this 
while  you  could  not  more  amply  have  set  her  forth 
before  me,  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. 

Great.  This  woman  is  a  witch,  and  it  is  by 
virtue  of  her  sorceries  that  this  ground 
is  enchanted.    Whoever  doth  lay  his 
nead  down  in  her  lap,  had  as  good  lay  it  down  oii 

Pil.  Proff.  29 


460  MADAM    BUBBLE. 

that  block  over  which  the  axe  doth  hang ;  and  wlio- 
ever  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  oi 
pilgrims.  James,  4  :  4.  Yea,  this  is  she  that  hath 
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  another, 
now  commending,  and  then  preferring  the  excel- 
lences of  this  life.  She  is  a  bold  and  impudent  slut : 
she  will  talk  with  any  man.  She  always  laugheth 
poor  pilgrims  to  scorn,  but  highl}'-  commends  the 
rich.  If  there  be  one  cunning  to  get  money  in  a 
place,  she  will  speak  well  of  him  from  bouse  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  time,  and  open  places  of  cheating ;  and  she 
will  say  and  avow  it,  that  none  can  show  a  good 
comparable  to  hers.  She  promiseth  to  dwell  with 
children's  children,  if  they  will  but  love  her  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 
t. )  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  vnW  pro- 
mise to  some  cro\vns  and  kingdoms  if  they  will 
but  take  her  advice ;  yet  many  hath  she  brought 


MADAM    BUBBLE.  451 

lo  the  haller,  and  ten  thousand  times  more  to  hell. 

Stand.  Oh  !  said  Stand-fast,  what  a  mercy  is  it 
that  I  did  resist  her ;  for  whither  might  she  have 
drawn  me ! 

Great.  Whither  1  nay,  none  but  God  knows 
whither.  But  in  general,  to  be  sure,  she  would 
have  dra\\Ti  thee  into  many  foolish  and  hurtful 
lusts,  which  droAMi  men  in  destruction  and  perdi- 
tion. 1  Tim.  6  :  9.  'Twas  she  that  set  Absalom 
against  his  father,  and  Jeroboam  against  his  mas- 
ter. 'Twas  she  that  persuaded  Judas  to  sell  hia 
Lord ;  and  that  prevailed  with  Demas  to  forsake 
the  godly  pilgi'im's  life.  None  can  tell  of  the  mis- 
chief that  she  doth.  She  makes  variance  betwixt 
rulers  and  subjects,  betwixt  parents  and  children, 
betwixt  neighbor  and  neighbor,  betwixt  a  man  and 
his  wife,  betwixt  a  man  and  himself,  bet^vixt  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit.  Wherefore,  good  Mr.  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  they 
broke  out  and  sang : 

What  danger  is  the  pilgrim  in  ! 

How  many  are  his  foes ! 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  sin 

No  liNdng  mortal  knows. 

Some  in  the  ditch  are  spoiled,  yea  can 

Lie  tumbling  in  the  mire : 
Some,  though  they  shun  the  frjing-pan. 

Do  leap  into  the  fire. 


452  THE    LAND    OF    BEULAH. 

After  this  I  beheld  until  they  were  come  into 
the  land  of  Beulah,  where  the  sun  shineth  night 
and  day.  Here,  because  they  were  weary,  they 
betook  themselves  awhile  to  rest.  And  because 
this  country  was  common  for  pilgrims,  and  be- 
cause the  orchards  and  vineyards  that  were  hero 
belonged  to  the  King  of  the  celestial  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  trum- 
pets continually  sound  so  melodiously,  that  they 
could  not  sleep,  and  yet  they  received  as  much  re- 
freshing as  if  they  had  slept  their  sleep  ever  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,  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 
celestial  visions  !  In  this  land  they  heard  nothing, 
saw  nothing,  felt  nothing,  smelt  nothing,  tasted 
Death  bitter  ^^^^^^S  ^^^^  "^^^  offensive  to  their  sto- 
to  the  flesh  but   mach  or  mind  ;   only  when  they  tasted 

Eweet    to    the  .  ^ 

eouL  of  the  water  of  the  river  over  which  ^ 


MESSENGER    TO    CHRISTIANA.  453 

lliey  were  to  go,  they  thought  that  it  tasted  a  little 
bitterish  to  the  palate ;  but  it  proved  sweeter  when 
it  was  down. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  record  kept  of  the 
names  of  them  that  had  been  pilgiims  of  old,  and 
a  history  of  all  the  famous  acts  that  they  had  done. 
It  was  here  also  much  discoursed,  how  the  river  to 
some  had  had  its  flowings,  and  what 

,  ,  .  .     ,         ,      T        1  .,  1  1  Death  has  its  eb- 

ebbings  it  has  had  while  others  have   bings  and  flow 

T^  v         1  •  ings  like  the  tide. 

gone  over.    It  has  been  in  a  manner 

dry  for  some,  while  it  has  ovei'flowed  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  spike- 
nard and  saffron,  calamus,  and  cinnamon,  with  all 
the  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh,  and  aloes,  with 
all  chief  spices.  With  these  the  pilgrims'  cham- 
bers were  perfumed  while  they  stayed  here ;  and 
with  these  were  their  bodies  anointed,  to  prepare 
them  to  go  over  the  river,  when  the  time  appoint- 
ed was  come. 

Now  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for  the 
good  hour,  there  was  a  noise  in  the  town  thai 
there  was  a  post  come  from  the  Celestial  City, 
with  matter  of  great  importance  to  one 

°       ,  \  ,     ,  A  messenger 

Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christian  the   ofdeathsentto 

.  .  ^         .        Christiana. 

pilgrim.     So    inquiry   was    made    tor 

her,  and  the  house  was  found  out  where  she  was 


454  SHE    PREPARES    TO    GO. 

So  the  post  presented  her  with  a  letter.    The  con- 
tents were,  Hail,  good  woman  ;  I  bring 
3  messag  .  tidinsfs  that  the  Master  calleth  for 

o 

thee,  and  expecteth  that  thou  shouldst  stand  in 
his  presence  in  clothes  of  immortality  within  thes?' 
ten  days. 

When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  her  he  gave 
her  therewith  a  sure  token  that  he  was  a  rruo  mes- 
sengfer,  and  was  come  lo  bid  her  make  haste  to  be 
gone.  The  token  was,  an  arrow  with  a  point 
sharpened  with  love,  let  easily  into  her  heart, 
which  by  degrees  wrought  so  effectually  with 
her,  that  at  the  time  appointed  she  must  be  gone. 

When  Christiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come, 
,    and  that  she  was  the  first  of  this  com- 

How  wel- 
come death  is   panv  that  was  to  ffo  over,  she  called 

to    them    that    ^       ^  ^  ° 

have  nothing  to  tor  Mr.  (jrreat-heart  her  guide,  and 
told  him  how  matters  were.  So  he 
told  her  he  was  heartily  glad  of  the  news,  and 
could  have  been  glad  had  the  post  come  for  him. 
Her  speech  to  Then  she  bid  him  that  he  should  give 
her  guide.  advice  how  all  things  should  be  pre- 
pared 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 

To  her  chU-  ^^^  blessing,  and  told  them  that  she 

"^®°-        had  read  with  comfort  the  mark  that 

was  set  in  their  foreheads,  and  Vv-as  glad  to  see 

them  with  her  there,  and  that  they  had  kept  their 


HER   PARTING    ADVICE.  455 

garments  so  white.  Lastly,  she  bequeathed  to  the 
poor  that  little  she  had,  and  commanded  her  sons 
and  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.  rp^jj^.  y^^jj^^t. 
Valiant-for-truth,  and  said  unto  him,  for-truih. 
Sir,  you  have  in  all  places  showed  yourself  true- 
hearted  ;  be  faithful  unto  death,  and  my  King  \\dll 
give  you  a  crown  of  life.  Rev.  2  :  10.  I  would 
also  entreat  you  to  have  an  eye  to  my  children ; 
and  if  at  any  time  you  see  them  faint,  speak  com- 
fortably to  them.  For  my  daughters,  ray  sons' 
wives,  they  have  been  faithful,  and  a  fiilfilling  of 
the  promise  upon  them  will  be  their  rj,^  ^j^.  ^^^^^ 
end.  But  she  gave  Mr.  Stand-fast  a  ring.  ^^^t- 

Then  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and  said 
of  him,  "  Behold  an  Israelite  indeed, 

1  •  M     •>>     T   1  1        ^r.      To  Old  Honest 

m  whom  is  no  guile  !  .  J  ohn,  1  :  47. 
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  how- 
ever the  weather  is  in  my  journey,  I  shall  have 
time  enough  when  I  come  there  to  sit  down  and 
rest  me  and  dry  me. 

Then  came   in  that  good  man,  Mr.  Ready-to- 
halt,  to  see  her.    So  she  said  to  him,   ^0  Mr.  Ready- 
Thy   travel    hitherto    has   been   with         *°-^*^^- 
difficulty ;  but  that  ^^dll  make  thy  rest  the  sweeter. 


456  SHE    PASSES    THE    RIVER. 

Watch  and  be  ready ;  for  at  an  hour  when  ye  thhiK 
not,  the  messenger  may  come. 

After  him  came  Mr.  Despondency  and  his  daugh 

ter  Much-afraid,   to  whom   she   said, 
dency'  and  his   You  ought,  with  thankfulness,  for  evei 
^^^    ^'  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  watchful,  and 
cast  away  fear;  be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end. 
Then  she  said  to  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  Thou  wast 

delivered  fi'om  the  mouth  of  giant  Slay- 
^°  ^miifd^^^'^"   goo^'  that  thou  mightest  live  in  the 

light  of  the  living,  and  see  thy  King 
with  comfort.  Only  I  advise  thee  to  repent  of  thine 
aptness  to  fear  and  doubt  of  his  goodness,  before 
he  sends  for  thee;  lest  thou  shouldst,  when  he 
comes,  be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for  that  fault 
with  blushing. 

Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must  be 

gone.    So  the  road  was  full  of  people 

Her  last  day,    °  .  -,        ■,  .  -rT      f 

and  manner  of  to  see  her  take  her  journey.  But  be- 
epar  e.  hold,  all  the  banks  beyond  the  river 
were  full  of  horses  and  chariots,  which  were  come 
down  from  above  to  accompany  her  to  the  city 
gate.  So  she  came  forth,  and  entered  the  river, 
with  a  beckon  of  farewell  to  those  that  followed 
her.  The  last  words  that  she  was  heard  to  say 
were,  1  come.  Lord,  to  be  with  thee  and  bless 
thee  !  So  her  children  and  friends  returned  to  their 


READY-TO-HALT    SUMMONED.  457 

place,  for  those  that  waited  for  Christiana  had  car- 
ried her  out  of  their  sight.  So  she  went  and  called, 
and  entered  in  at  the  gate  with  all  the  ceremonies 
of  joy  that  her  husband  Christian  had  entered  with 
before  her.  At  her  departure  the  children  wept. 
But  Mr.  Great-heart  and  Mr.  Valiant  played  upon 
the  well-tuned  cymbal  and  harp  for  joy.  So  all  de- 
parted to  their  respective  places. 

In  process  of  time  there  came  a  post  to  the  town 
again,  and  his  business  was  with  Mr. 

-rV        1  11        CI     1       •  •        1  1  •  ^^i"-  Ready-to- 

Keady-to-halt.  bo  he  mquired  him  out,  halt  summon- 
and  said,  I  am  come  fi-om  Him  whom 
thou  hast  loved  and  followed,  though  upon  crutch- 
es ;  and  my  message  is  to  tell  thee  that  he  expects 
thee  at  his  table  to  sup  with  him  in  his  kingdom, 
the  next  day  after  Easter;  wherefore  prepare  thy- 
self for  this  journey.  Then  he  also  gave  him  a  to- 
ken that  he  was  a  true  messenger,  saying,  "  I  have 
broken  thy  golden  bowl,  and  loosed  thy  silver 
cord."  Ecc.  12  :  6. 

After  this  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his  fel- 
low-pilgi'ims,  and  told  them,  saying,  I  am  sent  for, 
and  God  shall  surely  visit  ydu  also.  So  he  desired 
Mr.  Valiant  to  make  his  will.  And  because  he  had 
nothing  to  bequeath  to  them  that  should  survive 
him  but  his  crutches,  and  his  good  wishes,  there- 
fore thus  he  said.  These  crutches  I  be-       ^ 

'  ^  Promises. 

queath  to  my  son,  that  shall  tread  in 

.1111  -1,  His  will 

my  steps,  with  a  hundred  warm  wishes 

that  he  may  prove  better  than  I  have  been.  Then 


458  FEEBLE-MIND    SUMMONED. 

he  thanked  Mr.  Great-heart  for  his  conduct  and 
kindness,  and  so  addressed  himself  to  his  journey. 
When  he  came  to  the  brink  of  the  river  he  said, 
Now  I  shall  have  no  more  need  of  these  crutches, 
since  yonder  are  chariots    and  horses  for  me  to 
ride  on.  The  last  words  he  was  heard 
His  last  words,   to  say  Were,    Welcome  life !     So  he 
went  his  way. 
After  this  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  tidings  brought 
him  that  the  post  sounded  his  horn  at 
^s^moTe"^     his  chamber-door.    Then  he  came  in, 
and  told  him,   saying,  I  am  come  to 
tell  thee  that  thy  Master  hath  need  of  thee,  and 
that  in  a  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  win- 
dows shall  be   darkened."    Eccles.  12  :  3.     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 
^e  makes  no   should  I  make  a  will  1   As  for  my  fee- 
ble mind,  that  I  will  leave  behind  me, 
for  that  I  shall  have  no  need  of  in  the  place  whither 
I  go,  nor  is  it  worth  bestowing  upon  the  poorest 
pilgrims  :  wherefore,  when  T  am  gone,  I  desire  that 
you,    Mr.  Valiant,    would    bury  it  in  a  dunghill. 
This  done,  and  the  day  being  come  on  which  he 
was  to  depart,  he  entered  the  river  as  the  rest. 


DESPONDENCY    SUMMONED  450 

His  last  words  were,  Hold  out,  faith 

-,  .  ,    tn      1  ^        His  last  words. 

and  patience !   bo  he  went  over  to  the 
other  side. 

When  days  had  many  of  them  passed  away  Mr. 
Despondency  was  sent  for;  for  a  post  was  come, 
and    brought    this    message    to    him  : 

m  IT  II  ^^^-   Despon- 

Iremblmg  man  !  these  are  to  summon  dency  sum- 
thee  to  be  ready  with  the  King  by  the  ^°^''  ' 
next  Lord's  day,  to  shout  for  joy  for  thy  deliver- 
ance from  all  thy  doubtings.  And,  said  the  mes- 
senger, that  my  message  is  true,  take  this  for  a 
proof:  so  he  gave  him  a  grasshopper  to  be  a  bur- 
den unto  him.  Eccles.  12  :  5. 

Now  Mr.  Despondency's  daughter,  whose  name 
was  Much-afraid,  said,  when  she  heard 
what  was  done,  that  she  would  go  with     '^gotrtoo*^'^ 
her  father.     Then  Mr.  Despondency 
said  to  his  friends.  Myself  and  my  daughter,  you 
know  what  we  have  been,  and  how  troublesome- 
ly  we  have  behaved  ourselves  in  every  company. 
My  will  and  my  daughter's  is,  that  our 
desponds  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  which  we  entertained  when 
we  first  began  to  be  pilgrims,    and    could  never 
shake  them  off  after ;  and  they  will  walk  about, 
s,nd  seek  entertainment  of  the  pilgrims  :  but  for 
^•jr  sakes,  shut  the  doors  upon  them.    When  the 


4G0  MR.    HONEST    SUMMONED. 

time  was  come  for  them  to  depart,  they  went 
„.  ,  up  to  the  brink  of  the  river.  The  last 

His  last  words.       ^  f     -^r         -r>, 

words  of  Mr.  Despondency  were, 
Farewell,  night ;  welcome,  day !  His  daughter 
went  through  the  river  singing,  but  none  could 
understand  what  she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass  a  while  after,  that  there 
was  a  post  in  the  town  that  inquired  for  Mr.  Ho- 
nest.   So  he  came  to  the  house  where  he  was, 

Mr.  Honest  ^^^  delivered  to  his  hand  these  lines  : 
summoned.  Thou  art  commanded  to  be  ready 
against  this  day  seven-night,  to  present  thyself  be- 
fore thy  Lord  at  his  Father's  house.  And  for  a 
token  that  my  message  is  true,  **  All  the  daughters 
of  music  shall  be  brought  low."  Eccles.  12  :  4. 
Then  Mr.  Honest  called  for  his  friends,  and  said 

He  makes  no  ^^^^  them,  I  die,  but  shall  make  no 
will.  will.  As  for  my  honesty,  it  shall  go 
with  me  ;  let  him  that  comes  after  be  told  of  this. 
When  the  day  that  he  was  to  be  gone  was  come, 
he  addressed  himself  to  go  over  the  river.  Now 
the  river  at  that  time  overflowed  its  banks  in  some 

Good-conscience  P^^^^^  '  ^^^  ^^^  Honest,  in  his  life- 
helps  Mr.  Honest  time,  had  spoken  to  one  Good-cou- 
over  the  river.  .  ^  ^ 

science  to  meet  him  there,  the  which 
he  also  did,  and  lent  him  his  hand,  and  so  helped 
him  over.  The  last  words  of  Mr.  Honest  were, 
Grace  reigns  !    So  he  left  the  world. 

After  this  it  was  noised  abroad  that  Mr.  Valiant- 
for-truth  was  taken  with  a  summons,  by  the  same 


STAND-FAST    SUMJ^ONED.  4G1 

post  as  the  other,  and  had  this  for  a  to-       ^^^  vaiiant- 
ken  that  the  summons  was  true,  *'  That   for-truth  sum- 

1  •     ^  11  ^         n  moned. 

his  pitcher  was  broken  at  the  foun- 
tain."  Eccl.  12  :  6.    When  he   understood  it,  he 
called  for  his  friends,  and  told  them  of  it.    Then 
said  he,  I  am  going  to  my  Father's ;  and  though 
with  great  difficulty  I  have  got  hither,  yet  now  I 
do  not  repent  me  of  all  the  trouble  I  have  been  at 
to   aiTive   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  will  now  be  my  rewarder.    When  the 
day  that  he  must  go  hence  was  come,  many  ac- 
companied him  to  the  river-side,  into  which  as  he 
went,  he  said,  "  Death,  where  is  thy 

^,,       .       ,         ,  -,  -,  His  last  words. 

stmg  i      And  as  he  went  down  deeper, 
he  said,  "Grave,  where  is  thy  victory]"   1  Cor. 
15  :  55.    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. This  Mr.  Stand-fast  was  he  whom  ^^j.  stand-fast 
the  rest  of  the  pilgrims  found  upon  his  summoned, 
knees  in  the  Enchanted  Ground.  And  the  post 
brought  it  him  open  in  his  hands  :  the  contents 
thereof  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  raessen- 


462  stand-fast's  last  words. 

ger,  you  need  not  doubt  of  the  truth  of  my  mes- 
sage ,•  for  here  is  a  token  of  the  truth  thereof, 
"  Thy  wheel  is  broken  at  the  cistern."  Eccl.  12  :  6. 

He  calls  for  Then  he  called  to  him  Mr.  Great- 
Mr.  Greai-heart.  i^ieart,  who  was  their  guide,  and  said 
unto  him,  Sir,  although  it  was  not  my  hap  to  be 
much  in  your  good  company  during  the  days  of  my 

His  speech  to  pilgi'image,  yet,  since  the  time  I  knew 
him.  y.Q^^  yQ^  have  been  profitable  to  me. 
When  I  came  from  home  I  left  behind  me  a  wife 
and  five  small  children ;  let  me  entreat  you,  at 
your  retui'n,  (for  I  know  that  you  go  and  return  to 
your  Master's  house,  in  hopes  that  you  may  yet  be 
a  conductor  to  more  of  the  holy  pilgi'ims,)  that  you 
send  to  my  family,  and  let  them  be  acquainted 
with  all  that  hath  and  shall  happen  unto  me.    Tell 

His  errand  to  them  moreover  of  my  happy  arrival  at 
his  famUy.  |-|-^jg  p]a,ce,  and  of  the  present  and  late 
blessed  condition  I  am  in.  Tell  them  also  of  Chris- 
tian and  Christiana  his  ^vife,  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  fami- 
ly, unless  it  be  prayers  and  tears  for  them ;  of 
which  it  will  suffice  that  you  acquaint  them,  if  per- 
fidventure  they  may  prevail.  When  Mr.  Standfast 
had  thus  set  things  in  order,  and  the  time  being 
come  for  him  to  haste  him  away,  he  also  went 
do\\Ti  to  the  river.  Now  there  was  a  great  calm 
at  that  time  in  the  river ;  wherefore  Mr.  Stand-fast, 


STAXD-FAtST'S    LAST    WORDS.  463 

when  he  was  about  half  way  in,  stood  awhile,  and 
talked  with  his  companions  that  had  waited  upon 
him  thither.     And  he  said,   This  river 

,  ,  ,         His  last  words. 

has  been  a  terror  to  many ;  yea,  the 
thoughts  of  i%  also  have  often  frightened  me ;  but 
now  raethinks  I  stand  easy ;  my  fodt  is  fixed^upon 
that  on  which  the  feet  of  the  priests  that  bare  the 
ark  of  the  covenant  stood  while  Israel  went  over 
Jordan.  Joshua,  3  :  17.  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 
convoy  that  waits  for  me  on  the  other  side,  do  lie 
as  a  glowing  coal  at  my  heart.  I  see  myself  now 
at  the  end  of  my  journey ;  my  toilsome  days  are 
ended.  I  am  going  to  see  that  head  which  was 
crowned  with  thorns,  and  that  face  which  was  spit 
upon  for  me.  I  have  formerly  lived  by  hearsay  alid 
faith ;  but  now  I  go  where  I  shall  live  by  sicrht, 
and  shall  be  with  Him  in  whose  company  I  de- 
light myself  I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spok- 
en of;  and  wherever  I  have  seen  the  print  of  his 
shoe  in  the  earth,  there  I  have  coveted  to  set  my 
foot  too.  His  name  has  been  to  me  as  a  civet-box  ; 
yea,  sweeter  than  all  perfumes.  His  voice  to  me 
has  been  most  sweet,  and  his  countenance  I  have 
more  desired  than  they  that  have  most  desired  the 
light  of  the  sun.  His  words  I  did  use  to  gather  for 
my  food,  and  for  antidotes  against  my  faintings.  He 
hath  held  me,  and  hath  kept  me  from  mine  iniqui- 
ties ;  yea,  my  steps  hath  he  strengthened  in  his  way 


464  THE  author's  farewell. 

Now  while  he  was  thus  in  discourse  his  counte- 
nance 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  with  horses  and  chariots,  with  trum- 
peters and  pipers,  with  singers  and  players  upon 
stringed  instruments,  to  welcome  the  pilgrims  as 
they  went  up  and  followed  one  another  in  at  the 
beautiful  gate  of  the  city. 

As  for  Christiana's  children,  the  four  boys  that 
Christiana  brought,  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. 

Should  it  be  my  lot  to  go  that  way  again,  I  may 
give  those  that  desire  it  an  account  of  what  I  here 
^m  silent  about :   meantime  I  bid  my  reader 

Farewell. 


THE    END, 


fi6  4     ^W 


^C■ 


Deacidified  using  the  Bookkeeper  procei 
■<f'       A"^'        *      Neutralizing  agent:  Magnesium  Oxide 
^  '"^  -^       Treatment  Date:  March  2009 


-  PreservationTechnologie 

A  WORLD  LEADER  IN  COLLECTIONS  PRESERVATI 

111  Thomson  Park  Drive 
Cranberry  Township,  PA  16066 
(724)779-2111 


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