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THE 



PILGRIM'S PR0GP4,ESS 



THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME; 



DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 



BY JOHN BTJNY 



MAR 30 1910 

PUBLISHED BY THB 

AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 
NO. 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW-YORK. 



D. Fanshaw Printer. 



Gieat pains have been taken in collating this edition with other copier, in 
order to reuder it a correct reprint of the original work. The original 
side notes, which often throw much light on the text, have been pre- 
served. 



This volume is perpetuated through the liberality of Rev. E. Burgess, 
Dedham, Mass. ; Nicholas Brown, Esq., Providence ; Hon. Stephen Van 
Rensselaer, Albany ; and Messrs. James Roosevelt, S. V. S. Wilder, Jo- 
seph Brewster, John Rankin, Wrn. M. Hoisted, R. T. Haines, Charles 
8tarr, and G. Hallock, New- York. 



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THE LIFE 

OF 

RBV. JOHN BUN7AN, 

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

His parents were very poor, but gave him the best educa- 
tion in their power. Such, however, was his extreme de- 
pravity, that he addicted himself, even in childhood, 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 with- 
out a witness in his bosom. He had many severe checks of 
conscience, and terrifying thoughts of hell. After days spent 
in sin, his dreams were sometimes peculiarly frightful. The 
fears of death and judgment intruded into his gayest hours. 
A copious narrative of these early conflicts and crimes is to 
be found in his treatise entitled, Grace abounding to Ike Chief 
of Sinners. 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 narrow- 
ly escaped being drowned. When he was seventeen years 
of age he became a soldier; and, at the siege of Leicester, 
being called o ut to stand sentine l, another desired to take his 
place ; he consented, and his comrade, who took his place, 
was shot through the head with a musket-ball. 

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

The first step toward his reformation was his marriage with 



4 THE LIFE Or 

a woman whose parents were accounted religious. Being 
extremely poor, she had brought him, as her whole portion, 
two books, The Practice of Piety, and The Plain Man's Path- 
way to Heaven. In these they sometimes read together; and 
his wife often talked to him of the godly life of her father. 
By these means, and especially in consequence of hearing a 
sermon against Sabbath-breaking, he formed some resolu- 
tions of reformation, and of performing a few religious du 
lies, 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 enor- 
mous unparalleled sinner — 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 formed 
this desperate conclusion — that he must be miserable if he 
left his sins, and miserable if he continued in his sins; and 
therefore he determined to take his fill of them, as the. only 
pleasure he was likely to have. It may justly be feared tha» 
multitudes perish by such temptations as these. Their Ian 
guage is, " There is no hope — but we will walk after our owi* 
devices, and we will every one do the imagination of his 
evil heart." 

Contriving how to gratify himself with sin, yet deriving 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 



IlET. JOH.t BUNYAN. 5 

that moment he refrained, in general, from swearing, though, 
before, 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 per- 
son in white shining raiment suddenly plucked him as a 
brand out of the fire. These dreams made impressions on 
his mind which were never forgotten, and perhaps inclined 
him, many years after, to publish the masterpiece of all his 
works. The Pilgrim's Progress, 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 so affected 
him, that he applied himself to reading the Bible, especially 
the historical parts of it. 

By degrees a reformation of manners took place, which be- 
came so remarkable, that his neighbors were greatly sur- 
prised at it, and often complimented him upon it. By these 
commendations he was greatly puffed up with pride, and 
began to think himself a very good Christian, and, to use his 
own words, "that no man in England could please God bet- 
ter than he." But all this was only lopping off the branches 
of sin, while the root of an unregenerated nature still re- 
mained. With much difficulty, and by slow degrees, he re* 
frained from his accustomed diversions of dancing and ring- 
ing; he relinquished 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 righteousness." He 
was still of that generation " who are pure in their own 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 sooa 

r 



THK LIKE OP 

found their conversation above his reach. They were speak- 
ing of the new-birth, and the work of God on their hearts 
— how they were convinced of their miserable state by na- 
ture—how God had visited their souls with his love in Christ 
Jesus; with what promises they had been refreshed, comfort- 
ed, and supported under affliction and temptations. They 
also talked of the wretchedness of their own hearts, and oi 
their unbelief— of renouncing their own works and righteous- 
ness, as insufficient to justify them before God. All this ap- 
peared to be spoken in such spiritual language, in such a se- 
rious manner, and with such an air of Christian joy and cheer- 
fulness, that he seemed like one who had found a new world. 

This conversation was of great service to him. He now 
saw that his case was not so good as he had fondly imagined ; 
that among all his thoughts of religion, the grand essential ot 
it — the new birth — had never entered his mind — that he had 
never derived comfort from the promises of God — that he 
had never known the plague of his own heart, having never 
taken notice of his secret thoughts — and that he was entire- 
ly unacquainted with Satan's temptations, and the way to re- 
sist them. He therefore frequented the company of those 
persons, to obtain information ; his mind became constantly 
intent upon gaining spiritual knowledge, and his whole soul 
was so fixed on eternal things, that it was difficult to draw his 
mind from heaven to earth. He now began to read his Bi- 
ble, as it were with new eyes; it became inexpressibly sweet 
and pleasant to him, because it held forth a Savior whom he 
now felt the want of. Reading, meditation, and prayer to un- 
derstand the Scriptures, were the employments in which he 
delighted. 

Now the enemy of souls assaulted him with his tempta- 
tions. One of the principal was, whether he was elected or 
not ? But it pleased God to relieve him, by the application o» 
that Scripture, " Look at the generations of old, and see. did 
ever any trust in God and were confounded?" 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 



REV. JOHN BUN TAN. 7 

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." 

Another temptation that violently assaulted him, was, 
"How if the day of grace should be past and gone?" But 
after many days spent in bitterness of spirit, 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, who knows how to deliver the godly out of 
temptation, was pleased to deliver 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 Christians, and the 
valuable labors of Mr. Gifford, then Minister 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. Curi- 
osity naturally excited multitudes to attend his preaching, and 
he soon found that 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 min 
istry. His views of the work, and his 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 fullness, and show the sinner that, except iu 
his precious atonement, there is no salvation. 

"In my preaching," says he, "the Lord did lead me to be- 
gin where his word begins, with sinners ; to condemn all flesh, 
and to open and alledge that the curse of God doth lay hold 
on all men, as they come into the world, because of sin. 



8 THE LIFE OF 

This part of my work I fulfilled with the terrors of the law, 
and guilt for my own transgressions lying heavy on my con- 
science. 7 went myself in chains, to preach to them in chains ; 
and carried that fire in my own conscience, of which I per- 
suaded them to beware. I have gone full of a sense of guilt 
and terror, even to the pulpit door, and there it hath been ta- 
ken off, and I have been at liberty 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 salva- 
tion ; wherefore I did labor so to speak as that thereby, if 
possible, the sin, and the person guilty, might be particula- 
rized. 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, ' O that they who have 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 



REV. JOHN BUNYAN. 9 

remission cf 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 wrapped 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 (he earth, without it. Oh, these words, 
* He that convertelh a sinner 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 
righteousness, as the stars, for ever and ever;' James, 5 : 20. 
Dan. 12: 3; these, Willi many others of a like 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 my spirit 
leaned most after awakening and converting work; and the 
word that I carried did lean itself most 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 fidelity 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 patient- 
ly. The Lord was very gracious to him. "I never had," 
he said, while in prison, " in all my life, so great an insight 
into the word of God as now. Those Scriptures 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 i"n another world. ' O, the 
Mount Sion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumerable com- 
pany of angels, and God the judge of all, and the spirits ot 
just men made perfect,' and Jesus, have been sweet unto me 



U THE LIFE OF 

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 ye see him not, yet believing, ye re 
joice with joy unspeakable and full of glory/" 

The thoughts of his afflicted family would sometimes prest 
upon 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 indulgent parent. But he was 
supported under this affliction by these two Scriptures, 
" Leave thy fatherless children, I will preserve them alive; 
and let thy widows trust in me." The Lord said, "Verily 
it shall be well with thy remnant ; verily I will cause the 
enemy to entreat thee well in the time of evil." 

lie was not idle during his long and severe confinement, 
but diligently studied his Bible, which, with the book of Mar- 
tyrs, composed his whole library. His own hands also min 
istered to the necessity of his indigent family; but he was still 
more usefully employed in preaching 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 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 probably been more useful than 
if he had enjoyed the unrestrained exercise of his public min- 
istry. In composing it, he was evidently favored with a pe- 
culiar measure of the Divine assistance. Within the confines 
of a jail, he was able so to delineate the Christian's course, 
with its various diffi culties, perils, and conflicts, that scarcely 
any thing seems to have escaped hTs~noTIce'. "The most accu- 
rate 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 Progress. The book 
suits all the various descriptions of persons who profess god- 
liness, and relates the experience, temptations, conflicts, sup- 
ports, and consvilations of Christians in our own times, as 
exactly as if it had been penned for their own immediate 



R£V. JOHN BUNYAN. 11 

benefit. Cowper has spoken of this book and its author in 

the following manner: 

■ Oh thou, whom, borne on fancy's eager wing 

" Back to the season of life's happy spring, 

"I pleased remember, and while mem'ry yet 

" Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget. 

" Ingenious dreamer, in whose well-told tale, 

" Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail; 

" Whose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style, 

" 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 becomes in- 
terested in the event of every transaction ; ministers may- 
draw from it the most valuable instruction, as a text-book to 
be used in their private meetings ; and parents may with 
great advantage select portions of it to be read and explained 
to their children. 

After the Lord had accomplished what he had designed in 
the works written by this man of God in his dreary solitude, 
lie at length disposed Dr. Barlow, then Bishop of Lincoln, 
and others, to pity his undeserved sufferings, 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, especially the 
afflicted, tempted, and persecuted, to whom he Avas now well 
qualified to speak a word in season. He took this opportu- 
nity of paying his grateful acknowledgments to his friends, 
whose kind assistance he had experienced in prison ; and as 
occasion offered, he preached the Gospel with great boldness 
and acceptance, particularly 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 himself. 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. 



12 THE LIFE OF KEY. JOHN BUNYAN. 

His valuable life, worn out with sufferings, age, and minis- 
terial labors, was closed with a memorable act of Christian 
charity. He was well known under the blessed character ot 
a peace-maker. He was therefore desired, by a young gen- 
tleman in the neighborhood of Bedford, to interpose as a me- 
diator between him and his offended falher, who lived at 
Heading, in Berkshire : this friendly business he cheerfully 
undertook, and happily effected. But, in his return to Lon- 
don, being overtaken with excessive rain, he came to a 
friend's on Snow Hill, very wet, and was seized with a vio- 
lent 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 blessedness 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 hands of his blessed Redeemer, August 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 com- 
mit his sermons to writing after he had preached them. His 
works are collected in two volumes folio, and contain as 
many treatises as he lived years. His judgment was sound 
and deep in the essential principles of the Gospel, as his wri- 
tings sufficiently evince. His piety and sincerity toward God 
were apparent to all who conversed with him. He constant- 
ly maintained the God-like principle of love, often bewailing 
that there should be so much division among Christians. He 
was a man of heroic courage, resolute for Christ and the Gos- 
pel, and bold in reproving sin, both in public and private; yet 
mild, condescending, and affable to all. Thus lived and died a 
man, in whose character, conduct, and usefulness, that Scrip- 
ture was remarkably verified, "Ye see your calling., breth- 
ren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many 
mighty, not many noble, are called ; but God hath chosen the 
foolish things of the world to confound the wise — that no 
flesh should glory in his presence." 



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 abou*. 
Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think 
To show to all the w T orld my pen and ink 
In such a mode ; I only thought to make 
I knew not what: nor did I undertake 
Thereby to please my neighbor: no, not I; 
I did it my own self to gratify. 

Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
In this my scribble : nor did I intend 

* Without end. 



THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 

But to divert myself in doing this, 

From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. 

Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 

And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 

For having now my method by the end, 

Still as I pull'd, it came; and so I penn'd 

It down : until it came at last to be, 

For length and breadth, the bigness which you sep 

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, Let them live ; some, Let them die , 
Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so; 
Some said, It might do good ; others said, No. 

Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
Which was the best thing to be done by me: 
At last I thought, Since 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; 
I did not know, but hinder them I might 
Of that which would to them be great delight. 
For those which were not for its coming forth, 
I said to them, Offend you I am loth : 
Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, 
Forbear to judge, till you do further see. 

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



THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 15 

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

May I not write in such a style as this? 
Iti 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 null. 

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

How does the fowler seek to catch his game 
By divers means ! 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 please. 
Yea, he must pipe and whistle, to catch this; 
Yet if he does so, that bird he will miss. 
If that a pearl may in a toad's head dwell, 
And may be found too in an oyster-shell ; 
If things that promise nothing do contain 
What better is than gold ; who will disdain, 



16 THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 

That have an inkling* 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,) 
Is not without those things that do excell 
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 : 
But must I needs want solidness, because 
By metaphors I speak 1 Were not God's laws, 
His gospel laws, in olden time held forth 
By types, shadows, and metaphors? Yet loth 
Will any sober man be to find fault 
With them, lest he be found for to assault 
The highest wisdom ! No, he rather stoops, 
And seeks to find out by what pins and loops, 
By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams, 
By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, 
God speaketh to him ; and happy is he 
That finds the light and grace that in them be. 

Be not too forward therefore to conclude 
That I want solidness — that I am rude: 
All things solid in show not solid be; 
All things in parable despise not we, 

" Hint, whisper, iutimution. 



THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 17 

Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, 
And things that good are of our souls bereave. 
My dark and cloudy words they do but hold 
The truth, as cabinets inclose the gold. 

The prophets used much by metaphors 
To set forth truth : yea, 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 wrif. 
Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit, 
Is every where so full of all these things, 
Dark figures, allegories ? Yet there springs 
From that same book, that lustre, and those rays 
Of light that turns our darkest nights to days. 

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

May we but stand before impartial men, 
To his poor one I durst adventure ten, 
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 

2* * 



18 THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 

That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that i*'er© 
Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. 

Let me add one word more. O man of God 
Art thou olFended ? 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, 
In application ; but all that 1 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 w r ords or ways, 
Than any man that breatheth now-a-days,) 
Thus to express my mind, thus to declare 
Things unto thee that excellentest are. 

2. I find that men as high as trees will writ* 
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 with this method, where the cases 



THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 19 

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 : 
It shows you whence he comes , whith e r he goe s , 
What he leaves undone ; al so what he joes : 
It alscTshows vou how he runs _a.nd runs 



Till he unto the gate of glory comes . 
It~sEows7too, who sejj£utjbrjhjpamain, 
As if the lasting crown theylwould obtain ; 
Here also you may see<f jie rea son why 
T hey lose their labo r, and l ikejfools 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 1 
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 minds of listless men affect: 



20 the author's apology. 

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 ? 
Or else be drowned in thy contemplation? 
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. 

Jonif B'/NYAT. 



THE 

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 

IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 



As I walked through the wilderness of this world, 
I lighted on a certain place where was a 
den,* and laid me down in that place to 
sleep ; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, 
and behold, I saw a man clothed with rags standing 
in~a-c^rtain place, with his face from his own house, 
-,n bpoj qin his hand , and a ^re at burden upon h is back, 
Isaiah, 64 : 6TLuke, 14 : 33 5 Psalm 38 : 4. flookecl, 
and saw him open the book, and read therein ; and as 
he read, he wept and trembled ; and not being able 
longer to contain , he br ake out with aJanifiiLtaMe_cry, 
saying, f r What shall I dofe Acts, 2:37; 16:30; 
HabakkuX'l' 2, ± 

In this plight, therefore, he went home, and re- 
strained himself as long as he could, that his wife 
and children should not perceive his distress ; but he 
could not be silent lo ng, because that_ his trouble in- 
creased. W hereto re at length he brake his mind to 
his wife and children ; and thus he began to talk to 
them : " O my dear wife," said he, " and you the 
children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in my- 
self undon e by reas on of a bur den that Uetlihardjipon 

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



22 the pilgrim's deplorable condition. 

me; moreover, I am certainly (Informed that thisjour 
""" . city will be burnt with fire fronTEeaven ; 

in which fearful overthrow, both myself, 
with thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall 
He knows no way miserably gome to_j-uin, except (the 
of escape as yet. w hich yet I see not) gome way of escape 
can be found whereb y we mav b e deli vered ." ' XtPthis 
his relations were sore amazed ; not for that they be- 
lieved that what he had said to them was true, but be- 
cause they thought that some phrenzy distemper had 
got into his head ; therefore, it drawing toward night, 
and they hoping th at sle ep might settle h is brains, with 
all haste they got him to bed. But the night was as 
troublesome to hinia^, thejday ; where fore, instead of 
sleeping, he spent it in(sigh jNand^ears7) So when the 
morning was come , theyw ould kn dwliow he did. He 
told them "Worse and worse:" he also set to talking 
to them again ; but they began to be hardened. They 

Camai physic ^ so thought to drive away his distemper 
for a sick soul. ^y harsh AHiKsurly carriage to him: 
sometimes they would (deride/ sometimes theywould 
chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. 
Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber 
to pray for and pity them, and also to €oTidole>hisow n 
misery ; he would also \^aJJ^oJi^rily_ja thejields, 
som^fmes Teadin g, and sometimesjj^aying :^and thus 
for some days he spent his time. v ~ ~^ "** — ' 

Now I saw, upon a time, when he was walking in 
thefields, that he was (as he was wont) reading i n his 
^ook, and greatly distressed in his mind ; and as he 
read, he burst out, as heTIacTTIone before, crying, 
" What shalH do to be saved?" Acts, 16 : 30, 31. 

I saw alsoThat Ee looked this way, and that way, as 
if he would run; yet he stood still, because (as I per- 



EVANGELIST DIRECTS HIM ARIGHT. 23 

ceived) he could not tell which way_to go. I looked 
then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to 
him, and he asked, " W herefore do sTthiou cry?" 

He answered, " Sir, I perceive, D~y the book in my 
hand, that I_a m condemn ed to die, and after that to 
co me to judg ment, Hebrews, 9 : 27 ; and I find that J 
auiiiuL willing to do the first, Job, 10 : 21, 22 ; nor able 
to do the second." Ezekiel, 22 : 14. 

Then said Evangelist, " Why not willing_t o die, 
since this life is attended with so many evils?" The 
man answe red, " Because I fear that this burden that 
is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, 
and I shall fall into Tophet, Isaiah, 30 : 33. And, sir, 
if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit to go to jud g- 
ment, and from thence to execution ; a nd the though ts 
oTtKese things make me cry." 

Then said Evangelist, "If this be thy condition, 
why standest thou still ?" He answered, Conviction of the 
"Because I know not whither to go." £^ ity of flee " 
Then he gave him a parchment roll, and there was 
written within, " Fly from the wrath to come." Mat- 
thew, 3 : 7. |W^JU. 

The man therefore rfead it, and, looking upon Evan- 
gelist very car^MLy^/ said, " Whither must I fl y ?" 
Then said fijcangelist, ^pointing with his nngerover a 
very wide field,) " Do you see yonder wicket-gate?" 
Matthew, 7 : 13, 14. The man said, " No." Then 
said the other, " Do you see yonder shin- Christ and the 
ing light?" Psalm 119 : 105; 2 Peter, ffi*JftS: 
1 : 19. He said, " I think I do." Then ou t thiLw ord. 
said Evangelist, " Keep that lignt in your eye, and ^o 
up^ixectly_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 



24 OBSTINATE AND PLIABLE PURSUE HIM. 

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 j but the man put h is fingers in his 
ears, and ran on, crying, " LijGsJ^life ! eternal life!" 
Luke, 14 : 2(T So he looked noTBehind him, Genesis, 
19 : 17, but fled toward the middle of the plain. 

The neighbors also came out to see him run, Jere 

They that flee miah, 20 : 10; and as he ran some mock- 
SSfirSSfedi olhers threatened, and some cried 
btock to the world, after him. to return; and among those 
that did-soyjjnpre wereftwo that resolved Jo fetch him 
backfbyJbrce. v The name of the one was Obstin ate, 
and ute name of the other Pliab le. Now by' this time 
the man was got a good distance from them ; but how- 
ever 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, 
" i n 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 neigh- 
bors, 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 Corinthians, 4 : 18; and if you will go along with 
me, and hold it, you shall fare as I myself; for there, 
where I go, is enough and to spare, 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 ? 



DIALOGUE WITH OBSTINATE AND PLIABLE. 25 

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

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

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 own eyes than 
seven men that can render a reason. 

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

Obst. What ! 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. Come with me neighbor Pliable; there are 
such things to be had which I spoke of, Christian and0b _ 
and many more glories beside. If you stinate puii for pu- 
believe not me, read here in this book ; a es soul * 
and for the truth of what is expressed therein, behold, 
all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made it, 
Hebrews, 9 : 17 : 21. 

Pli. Well, neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin 
to come to a point ; I intend to go along Wfobte consent- 

, , . * ' , & . eth to go with 

with this good man, and to cast in my christian, 
lot with him : but, my good companion, do you know 
the way to this desired place? 
Chr. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evan- 

3 



26 OBSTINATE GOES BACK. 

gelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, 

where we shall receive instruction about the way. 
Pli. Come then, good neighbor, let us be going. 

Then they went both together. 

Obst. And I will go back to my place, said Obsti- 
Obstinate goes nate : I will be no companion of such 

railing back. misled fantastical fellows. 
Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was 
Talk between ff 0ne back, Christian and Pliable went 

Christian and Pli- s „ . ' . . . , , 

able. talking over the plain; and thus they 

began their discourse. 

Chr. Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do ? I 
am glad you are persuaded to go along with me. 
Had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have felt 
of the 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 thing* 
are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we are going. 

Chr. I can better conceive of them with my mind, 

God's things un- than speak of them with my tongue : 

epeakable. but y et s } nce y OU are <J e sirOUS tO kllOW, 

I will read of them in my book. 

Pli. And do you think that the words of your booK 
are certainly true ? 

Chr. Yes, verily j for it was made by Him that can- 
not lie, Titus, 1 : 2. 

Pli. Well said ; what things are they ? 

Chr. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, 
and everlasting life to be given us, that we may inhabit 
that kingdom forever, Isaiah, 45 : 17 ; John, 10 ; 27, 29. 

Pli. "Well said ; and what else ? 

Chr. There are crowns of glory to be given us 
and garment* '^at will make us shine l'ke the sun in 



DIALOGUE BETWEEN CHRISTIAN AND PLIABLE. 27 

the firmament of heaven, 2 Timothy, 4:8; Revela- 
tion, 22: 5; Matthew, 13: 43. 

Pli. This is excellent ; and what else ? 

Cur. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow, 
for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears 
from our eyes, Isaiah, 25 : 8 ; Revelations, 7 : 16, 17 ; 
21 : 4. 

Pli. And what company shall we have there ? 

Chr. There we shall be with seraphims and cheru- 
bims, Isaiah, 6: 2; 1 Thessalonians, 4: 16. 17; Reve- 
lations, 5: 11; creatures that will dazzle your eyes to 
look on them. There also you shall meet with thou- 
sands and ten thousands that have gone before us to 
that place ; none of them are hurtful, but loving and 
holy ; every one walking in the sight of God, and 
standing in his presence with acceptance for ever. In 
a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden 
crowns, Revelations, 4:4; there we shall see the holy 
virgins with their golden harps, Revelations, 14 : 1:5; 
there we shall see men, that by the world w r ere cut in 
pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the 
seas, for the love they bare to the Lord of the place, 
John, 12: 25; all well, and clothed with immortality 
as with a garment, 2 Corinthians, 5 : 2, 3, 5. 

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

Chr. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath 
recorded that in this book, Isaiah, 55 : 1, 2 ; John 6 : 37. 
8 : 37 ; Revelations, 22 : 6 ; 22, 17 ; the substance of 
which is, If we be truly willing to have it, he will be- 
stow it upon us freely. 

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



28 THE SLOUGH OF DESPOND. — PLIABLE GOES BACK. 

Cim. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of 
this_burjLejLlbat 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 heed- 
less, did both fall suddenly into the bog. The name 

The siough of of the slough was Despond. Here, there- 
Dcspond. f ore) t hey ^allowed for a time, being 

grievously bedaubed with dirt ; and Christian, because 
of the burden that was on his back, began to sink in 
the mire. 

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 an- 
grily said to his fellow, Is this the ..happiness you have 
t old m e all this while of ? If we h ave such ilL speed ai 
our first setting out, what may we expect between this 
and our journey's end ? May I get out again with my 
it is not enough to life > you shall possess the brave coun- 
be pliable. try alone for me. And witli 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 
Christ.nn, in .rou- Slough of Despond alone : but still he 
i,i,-, M:ok 8 still to eu( i eav0 red to struggle to that side of 

pot farther from ^ iluv -" 00 

bis own house. the slough that was farthest irom his 
own house, and next to the wicket-gate ; the which 
he did, but could not get out because of the burden 
that was upon his back: but I beheld in my dream, 
that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and 
asked him " What he did there ?" 



CHRISTIAN LIFTED OUT BY HELP. 29 

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 wrath to come. 
And as I was going thither I fell in here. 

Help, But why did not you look for 

the Steps. The promises. 

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 
out, Psalm 40 : 2, and he set him upon Help "■■ him oul ' 
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 Destruction to yonder gate, is it, that 
this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go 
thither with more security ?" And he said unto me, 
" This miry slough is such a place as cannot be 
mended: it is the descent whither the What makes the 

, „, , , . . Slough of De- 

SCUm and filth that attends conviction 6 pond. 

for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called 
the Slough of Despond; for still as the sinner is 
awakened about his lost condition, there arise in his 
soul many fears and doubts, and discouraging appre- 
hensions, 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, Isaiah, 35 : 3, 4. His laborers 
also have, by the direction of his Majesty's surveyors, 
been for above these sixteen hundred years employed 
about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have 
been mended : yea, and to my knowledge," said he, 
3* 



30 THE STEPS OF PROMISES. — PLIABLE GETS HOME. 

"here have been swallowed up at least twenty thou- 
sand cart-loads, yea, millions of wholesome instruc- 
tions, that have at all seasons been brought from all 
places of the king's dominions, (and they that can tell, 
say, they are the best materials to make good ground 
of the place,) if so be it might have been mended ; but 
is the Slough of Despond still, and so will be when 
they have done what they can. 

" True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, 
The promises certain good and substantial steps, 
HSfSZ^Si Placed even through the very midst of 
by faith in CnriLit. this slough ; but 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 dizziness 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 Sa- 
muel, 12 : 23. 

Now I saw in my dream, that by this time Pliable 
Pliable got home, was got home to his house. So his 

and is visited by . , , • •, i - j 

bis neighbors. neighbors came to visit him ; and some 
of them called him wise man for coming back, and 
some called him fool for hazarding himself with 
Christian : others again did mock at his cowardliness ; 
saying, " Surely, since you began to venture, I would 
not have been so base to have given out for a few 
difficulties:" so Pliable sat sneaking among them. 
But at last he got more confidence, and then they all 
turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian 
behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. 

Now as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, 
he espied one afar off, come crossing over the field to 

Mr. Worldly meet him ; and their hap was to meet 
rtScSJT* just as they were crossing the way of 



CHRISTIAN MEETS MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN. 31 

€ach other. The gentleman's name that met him 
was Mr. Worldly Wiseman: he dwelt in the town of 
Carnal Policy, a very great town, and also hard-by 
from whence Christian came. This man then, meeting 
with Christian, and having some inkling* of him, (for 
Christian's setting forth from the city of Destruction 
was much noised abroad, not only in the town where 
he dwelt, but also it began to be the town talk in some 
other places,) — Mr. Worldly Wiseman, therefore, 
having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious 
going, by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, 
began thus to enter into some talk with Christian. 

W r ORLD. HOW nOW, gOOd fellow, W'hi- Talk betwixt Mr. 
, . , i , ,, Worldly Wiseman 

ther away after this burdened manner ? aud christian. 

Chr. A burdened manner indeed, as ever I think 
poor creature had ! And whereas you ask me, Whi- 
ther 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 ? 

Chr. Yes ; but I am so laden with this burden that 
1 cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly : me- 
thinks I am as if I had none, 1 Corinthians, 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 1 

World. I Would advise thee then, that thou 
with all speed get thyself rid of thy Worldly wise- 

«.,,.,- , , , man's counsel to 

burden ; for thou wilt never be settled christian. 
in thy mind till then : nor canst thou enjoy the bene- 
fits of the blessings which God hath bestowed upon 
thee, till then. 
Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid 

* Slight knowledge. 



32 THEIR CONVERSATION. 

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 remember, is 
Evangelist. 

World. I beshrew* him for his counsel ! there is 
Mr.WoridiyWise- not a more dangerous and troublesome 

E™^."™™- Wa Y "» the WOrld thai1 is lhat ilU0 

■ei« which he hath directed thee ; and that 

thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. 
Thou hast met with something, as I perceive, already ; 
for I see the dirt of the Slough of Despond is upon 
thee ; but that slough is the beginning of the sorrows 
that do attend those that go 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, dark- 
ness, and, in a word, death, and what not. These 
things are certainly true, having been confirmed by 
many testimonies. And why should a man so care- 
lessly castaway himself, by giving heed to a stranger ? 
Chr. Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more 
terrible to me than all these things which you have 
The frame of the mentioned: nay, methinks I care not 

heart of a young , _ ... . ., ... , _ 

christian. what I meet with in the way, if so be I 

can also meet with deliverance from my burden. 

World. How earnest thou by thy burden at first? 

Chr. By reading this book in my hand. 

World. I thought so ; and it has happened unto thee 

* WUu a curse to. 



CONVERSATION WITH MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN. 33 

as to other weak men, who, meddling He does net like 
with things too high for them, do sud- Sffin* 1 ^ 
denly fall into thy distractions ; which the Bible - 
distractions do not only unman men, as thine I per- 
ceive have done thee, but they run them upon des- 
perate ventures, to obtain they know not what. 

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

World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, 
seeing so many dangers attend it? especially since 
(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. Besides, I will add, 
that instead of those dangers, thou shalt meet with 
much safety, friendship, and content. 

Chr. Pray, sir, open this secret to me. 

World. Why, in youder 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 He prefers mo- 

, ,, , . . , rality before the 

shoulders ; yea, to my knowledge, he strait gate, 
hath done a great deal of good this way ; ay, and be- 
sides, 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 
hsuse 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: 
'.here, I say, thou mayst be eased of thy burden j and 
: f thou art not minded to go back to thy former habita- 
tion, (as indeed I would not wish thee,) thou mayst 



34 CHRISTIAN AFRAID OF MOUNT SINAI. 

send for thy wife and children to thee to this village, 
where there are houses now standing 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 pre- 
Christian snared sently he concluded, If this be true which 
by Mr. Worldly this gentleman hath said, my wisest 

Wiseman's words. , , , . , . , ... 

course is to take his advice : and with 
that he thus farther spake. 

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

Mount Sinai. World. Do you see yonder high hill? 

Chr. Yes, very well. 

World. By that hill you must go, and the first 
house you come at is his. 

So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. 

Christian afraid Legality's house for help : but, behold, 
2Sid M ff of to when he was got now hard by the hill, 
head - it seemed so high, and also that side of 

it that was next the way-side did hang so much over, 
that Christian was afraid to ventiwe further, lest the 
hill should fall on his head ; wherenre 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, Exodus, 19 : 16 : 18, 
out of the hill, that made Christian a. r raid that he 
should be burnt, here therefore he did sweat, and 
quake for fear, Hebrews, 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 



EVANGELIST MEETS HIM UNDER MOUNT SINAI. 35 

for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer Evangelist findeth 

. . Christian under 

and nearer; and coming up to nun, he Mount Sinai, 
looked upon him with a severe and dreadful counte- 
nance, and thus began to reason with Christian. 

Evan. What dost thou here, Christian? said he: at 
which words Christian knew not what to answer; 
wherefore at present he stood speechless before him. 
Then said Evangelist farther, Art not Evange i ist rea . 
thou the man that I found crying with- «■» afr «* h with 
out the walls of the city of Destruction ? 

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

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

Chr. Yes, dear sir, said Christian. 

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

Chr. I met with a gentleman 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 
lake off my burden. 

Evan. What was he ? 

Chr. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much 
'o me, and got me at last to yield: so I came hither; 
v mt when I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over the 
way, I suddenly made a stand ; lest it should fall on 
my head. 

Evan. What said that gentleman to you? 

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

Evan. And what said he then ? 

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



36 EVANGELIST CONVINCES HIM OF HIS ERROR. 

Evan. And what said he then? 

Chr. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden ; 
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 gentleman's house that hath skill to take off these 
burdens : so I believed him, and turned out of that 
way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my 
burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld 
things as they are, I stopped, for fear (as I said) of 
danger: but I now know not what to do. 

Evan. Then said Evangelist, Stand still a little, that 
Evangelist con- \ ma y show thee the words of God. So 

vinces him of hi* , . _ . ,. _. k , ■ 

error. he stood trembling. Then said Evange- 

list, " See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh : for if 
they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, 
much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from 
Him that speaketh from heaven." Hebrews, 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," Hebrews, 10 : 38. He also did thus 
apply them ; Thou art the man that art running into 
misery j thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the 
Most High, and to drawback 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," Matthew, 12 : 31. " Be not faithless, but believ- 
mg," John, 20 : 27. Then did Christian again a little 



Evangelist convinces him op his error. 37 

revive, and stood up trembling, 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 thee, and 
who it was also to whom he sent thee. That man that 
met thee is one Worldly Wiseman ; and Mr Worldly 
rightly is he so called ; partly because Wiseman describ- 

k. .i. i *Vu j *JL r*u- ed by Evangelist. 

he savoreth only of the doctrine of this 
world, 1 John, 4:5, (therefore he always goes to the 
town of Morality to church;) and partly because he 
loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him from the 
cross, Galatians, 6 : 12, and because he is of this carnal 
temper, 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 leadeth 
unto the administration of death. 

First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the 
way ; yea, and thine own consenting thereto ; because 
this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the 
counsel of a W T orldly 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." 
Matthew, 7 : 13 : 14. From this little wicket-gate, and 
from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned 
thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction : 
hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and 
abhor thyself for hearkening to him. 

Secondly, Thou must abhor his laboring to render 
the xtfoss odious unto thee ; for thou art to prefer it be- 
4 



38 EVANGELIST CONVINCES HIM OF HIS ERRO& 

fore the treasures of Egypt, Hebrews, 11 : 25, 26. Be* 
sides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that will 
save his life shall lose it. And he that comes after 
him, and hates not his father, and mother, and wife, 
and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his 
own life also, he cannot be my disciple, Mark, 8 : 38 j 
John, 12 : 25 ; Matthew, 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, aiwl 
also how unable that person was to deliver thee from 
thy burden. 

He to whom thou was sent for ease, being by name 
Legality, is the son of the bond-woman which now is, 
and is in bondage with her children, Galatians, 4 : 21 : 
27, and is, in a mystery, this mount Sinai, which thou 
hast feared will fall on thy head. Now if she with her 
children are in bondage, how canst thou expect by 
them to be made free ? This Legality, therefore, is not 
able to set thee free from thy burden. No man was as 
yet ever rid of his burden by him ; no, nor ever is like 
to be: ye cannot be justified by the works of the law ; 
for by the deeds of the law no man living can be rid 
of his burden. Therefore Mr. Worldly Wiseman is art 
alien, and Mr. Legality is a cheat ; and for his son 
Civility, notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but 
a hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there 
is nothing in all this noise that thou hast Heard of 
these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy 
salvation, by turning thee from the way in which I 



EVANGELIST CONVINCES HIM OF HIS ERROR. 39 

had set thee. After this, Evangelist called aloud to the 
heavens for confirmation of what he had said; and 
with that there came words and fire out of the moun- 
tain under which poor Christian stood, which made 
the hair of his flesh stand up. The words were thus 
pronounced, " As many as are of the works of the law 
are under the curse ; for it is written, Cursed is every 
one that continueth not in all things which are written 
in the book of the law to do them." Galatians, 3 : 10. 

Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and 
began to cry out lamentably; even cursing the time in 
which he met with Mr. Worldly Wiseman ; still calling 
himself a thousand fools for hearking to his counsel. 
He also was greatly ashamed to think that this gentle- 
man's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should 
have the prevalency with him so far as to cause him 
to forsake the right way. This done, he applied him- 
self again to Evangelist in 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 ? 
Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from 
thence ashamed? I am sorry I have christian inquire,, 
hearkened to this man's counsel ; but if he may yet be 
may my sin be forgiven ? app> * 

Evan. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very 
great, for by it thou hast committed two evils ; thou 
hast forsaken the way that is good, to tread in forbid- 
den paths. Yet will the man at the gate Evaugeiist com- 
receive thee, for he has good will for forts hha - 
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. Then did Chris- 
tian address himself to go back ; and Evangelist, after 
he had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him 



40 CHRISTIAN ENTERS IN AT THE GATE. 

God speed ; so he went on with haste, neither spake 
he to any man by the way ; nor if any asked him, 
would he vouchsafe them an answer. He went like 
one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, 
and could by no means think himself safe, till again he 
was got into the way which he had left to follow Mr. 
Wordly Wiseman's counsel. So, in process of time, 
Christian got up to the gate. Now, over the gate there 
was written, " Knock, and it shall be opened unto 
vou," Matthew, 7 : 7. 

He knocked, therefore, more than once or tvice, 
saying, 

" May I now enter here ? Will he within 
u 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 person 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 willing with all my heart, said he; and 
The gate will be with that he opened the gate, 
hearted sinned"" 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 cas*lp, of which 
Beelzebub is the captain ; from thence both he and they 
Satan envies those that are with him shoot arrows at those 

that cuter the strait , ^, . . - , , ., 

K ate. that come up to this gate, if haply they 



TALK WITH GOODWILL, 41 

may die before they can enter in. Then said Chris- 
tian. I rejoice and tremble. So when he christian entered 

, - , , -, the gate with joy 

was got in, the man of the gate asked and trembling, 
him who directed him thither. 

Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, as 
I did : and he said, that you, sir, would „ Talk between 

* . J ' ' Goodwill and 

tell me What I mUSt do. Christian. 

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 1 
Chr. Because none of my neighbors saw their dan- 
ger, 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 ? 

Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable : but when 
they saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate went 
railing back, but Pliable came with me a little way. 
Good. But why did he not come through ? 
Chr. We indeed came both together until we came 
to the Slough of Despond, into the which we also sud- 
denly fell. And then was my neighbor Pliable dis- 
couraged, and would not venture farther. Wherefore, 
getting out again on the side next to his A man may haye 

Own house, he told me I Should possess company when he 

the brave country alone for him : so he Jjj °^ d ° y r et e ^ 
went his way, and I came mine ; he Mthet d™*' 
after Obstinate, and I to this gate. 
4* 



42 TALK WITH GOODWILL. 

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 ? 

Chr. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of 

Christian accuseth Pliable 5 aild if l sh0lll(1 als0 Sa y the 

himself before the truth of myself, it will appear there is 
man a e gate no betterment betwixt him and myself. 
'Tis true, he went back to his own house, but I also 
turned aside to go into the way of death, being per- 
suaded thereto by the carnal argument of one Mr. 
Worldly Wiseman. 

Good. Oh ! did he light upon you ? What ! he would 
have had you seek for ease at the hands of Mr. Le- 
gality ! They are both of them a very cheat. But did 
you take his counsel ? 

Chr. Yes, as far as I durst. I went to find out Mr. 
Legality, until I thought that the mountain that stands 
by his house would have fallen upon my head ; where- 
fore there I was 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 become 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 talking with my Lord. But, oh! 
what a favor is this to me, that yet I am admitted 
entrance here ! 

Good. We make no objections against any, not- 
withstanding all that they have done before they come 



CHRISTIAN REACHES THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. 43 

hither : they in no wise are cast out, christian is com- 
John, 6 : 37. And therefore, good f° rted ^ ain ; mA 

' > ° directed yet on 

Christian, come a little way with me, his way. 
and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. 
Look before thee ; dost thou see this narrow way ? 
That is the way thou must go. It was cast up by the 
patriarchs, prophets, Christ and his apostles, and it is 
as straight as a rule can make it ; this is the way thou 
must go. 

Chr. But, said Christian, are there no turnings nor 
windings, by which a stranger may lose christian afraid of 

his Way. losing hU way 

Good. Yes, there are many ways abut down upon 
this ; and they are crooked and wide : but thus thou 
mayst distinguish the right from the wrong, the 
right only being straight and narrow, Matthew, 7 : 14. 

Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him 
further, if he could not help him off christian weary 
with his burden that was upon his of his burden, 
back. For as yet he had not got rid thereof, nor 
could he by any means get it off without help. 

He told him, " As to thy burden, be There is no de- 
content to bear it until thou comest to ^""and^urdw 
the place of deliverance ; for there it of *">, but b y tb « 
will fall from thy back of itself." Christ!" 1 

Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to 
address himself to his journey. So the other told 
him, that by that he was gone some distance from the 
gate, he would come at the house of the Interpreter, 
at whose door he should knock, and he would show 
him excellent things. Then Christian took his leave 
of his friend, and he again bid him God-speed. 

Then he went on till he came at the house of the 
Interpreter, where he knocked over and over. At 



44 the interpreter's house. 

christian comes j as t one came to the door, and asked 

to the house of the , _ 

Interpreter. WHO Was there. 

Chr. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an ac- 
quaintance of the good man of this house to call here 
for my profit ; I would therefore speak with the 
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 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 me excellent things, such as would be 
helpful to me on my. journey. 

Inter. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will 

show thee that which will be profitable to thee. So he 

commanded his man to light the candle, 

' and bid Christian follow him; so he 

had him into a private room, and bid his man open a 

door ; the which when he had done, Christian saw 

christian sees a the picture of a very grave person hang 
brave picture. up a g a i ns t the wall ; and this was the 
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 meaneth this ? 

Inter. The man whose picture this is, is one of a 
thousand. Whereas thou seest him with his eyes lift 

Meaning of the U P to heaven, the best of books in his 
picture. hand, and the law of truth writ on his 

lips, it is to show thee, that his work is to know, and 



the interpreter's hodse. 45 

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 things that are present, for the 
love that he hath to his Master's service, he is sure in 
the world that comes next to have glory for his re- 
ward. Now, said the Interpreter, I Why he showed 
have showed thee this picture first, be- fij™. pi ° 
cause the man whose picture this is, is the only man 
whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going 
hath authorized to be thy guide in all difficult places 
thou 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 journey 
thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right, 
but their way goes down to death. 

Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a 
very large 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 Interpreter 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, anil 
inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole mail. 
He that began to sweep at first, is the law ; but sll<3 
that brought water, and did sprinkle it, is the gospel, 



46 

Now whereas thou sawest, that as soon as the first be- 
gan to sweep, the dust did so fly about that the room 
could not by him be cleansed, but that thou wast 
almost choked therewith ; this is to show thee, that 
the law, instead of cleansing the heart (by its working) 
from sin, doth revive, Romans, 7: 9; put strength into, 
1 Corinthians, 15 : 56 ; and increase it in the soul, 
Romans, 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 sprink- 
ling 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; Ephesians, 5 : 26 ; Acts, 15:9; Romans, 
16:25, 26; John, 15: 13. 

I saw moreover in my dream, that the Interpreter 
took him by the hand, and had him into a little room, 

He showed him where sat two little children, each one 
tiLce. in his chair. The name of the eldest 

was Passion, and the name of the other Patience. 
Passion seemed to be much discontented, but Pa- 
tience was very quiet. Then Christian asked, " What 
is the reason of the discontent of Passion ?" The In- 

Passion will have terpreter answered, "The governor of 
il uow « them would have him stay for his best 

things till the beginning of next year ; but he will 

Patience it for have all now ; but Patience is willing 

waiting. to wa it." 

Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought 
him a bag of treasure, and poured it down at his 



THE INTERPRETER^ HOtJSE. 4? 

feit : the which he took up and rejoiced Pa»«on hath hi* 
therein, and withal laughed Patience to lavishes^away. 7 
scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished 
all away, and had nothing left him but rags; 

Chr. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Ex- 
pound this matter more fully to me. 

Inter. So he said, These two lads are figures ; Pas- 
sion of the men of this world, and Patience of the men 
of that which is to come : for as here thou seest, Pas- 
sion 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 por- 
tion of good* That proverb, "A bird in The wotwiy man 
the hand is worth two in the bush," is hand* bird in th ° 
of more authority with them than are all the divine 
testimonies of the good of the world to come. But as 
thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and 
had presently left him nothing but rags, so will it be 
with all such men at the end of this world. 

Chr. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience 
has the best wisdom, and that upon ma- Patience had th0 
ny accounts. 1. Because he stays for b est wisdom. 
the best things. 2. And also because he will have the 
glory of his, when the other has nothing but rags. 

Inter. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the° glory 
of the next world will never wear out ; but these are 
suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not so much 
reason to laugh at Patience, because he ThiDgs that ara 
had his good things first, as Patience will fim must ?»va 
have to laugh at Passion, because he had Sat" L^tJt^aS 
his best things last ; for first must give lagtin e- 
place to last, because last must have his time to come ; 
but last gives place to nothing; for there is not another 



48 the interpreter's house. 

to succeed ; he therefore that hath his portion nrst 5 
Dives had his must needs have a time to spend it ; but 
good things first, j^ t h at ^th his portion last, must have 
it lastingly : therefore it is said of Dives, " In thy life- 
time thou receivedst thy good things, and likewise 
Lazarus evil things ; but now he is comforted 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 
The first things are temporal, but the things that are not 
are but temporal. seen are eternal. 2 Cor. 4: 18. But 
though this be so, yet since things present, 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, Romans, 
7: 15—25. 

Then I saw in my dream, that the Interpreter took 
Christian by the hand, and led him into a place where 
was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing 
by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench 
it ; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter. 
Then said Christian, What means this ? 
The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of 
grace that is wrought in the heart ; he that casts water 
upon it to extinguish and put it out) is the devil : but 
in that thou seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher 
and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So 
he had him about to the other side of the wall, where 
he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of the 
which he did also continually cast (but secretly) into 
the fire. 



TtiE INTERPRETER'S HOtJSE. 49 

llien said Christian, What means this ? 

The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who con- 
tinually, with the oil of his grace^ maintains the work 
already begun in the heart ; by the means of whichj 
notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his 
people prove gracious still, 2 Corinthians, 12 : 9. And 
in that thou sawest, that the mail 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 by the hand, 
and led him into a pleasant place, where was built a 
stately palace, beautiful to behold; at the sight of 
which Christian was greatly delighted. He saw also 
upon the top thereof certain persons walking,' who 
were clothed all in gokh 

Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? 

Then the Interpreter took him and led him up to^ 
ward 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 armor to keep it, being resolved to do 
to the men that 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 
armed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout coun- 
tenance come up to the man that sat ^, 

r . The valiant man. 

there to write, saying, " Set down my 
name sir ;" the which when he had done, he saw the 
man draw his sword, and put a helmet upon his head, 
and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who 
5 



60 THE iNtEfiPRETfell's HOUSE, 

laid upon him with deadly force ; but the man, not at 
all discouraged) fell to cutting and hacking most fierce- 
ly. So after he had received and given many wounds 
to those that attempted to keep him out, Matthew, 11: 
12; Acts, 14: 22; he cut his way through therh all, 
and pressed forward into the palace ; at which there 
was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, 
even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, 
saying) 

41 Come in, come inj 

" Eternal glory shalt thou win." 

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

Now, said Christian, Let me go hence. Nay, sta3 r , 
said the Interpreter, until I have showed thee a little 
more, and after that thou shalt go thy way. So he 
Despair like ail took him by the hand again, and led 
iron cage. jjj m j nt0 a ver y dark room, where there 

sat a man in an iron cage. 

Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad j 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 ? 
The man answered, I am what I was not once? 

Chr. What was thou once ? 

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



51 

Chr. Well, but what art thou now? 

Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in 
it, as in this iron cage. I cannot get out, Oh now I 
cannot ! 

Chr. But how earnest thou into this condition ? 

Max. Heft off to watch and be sober: I laid the 
reins upon the neck of my lusts 5 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 are there 
no hopes for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the 
Interpreter. 

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

Max. No, none at all. *— 

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

Max. I have crucified him to myself afresh, He- 
brew, 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, Hebrew, 10 : 28, 29 ; therefore I shut 
myself out of all the promises, and there now remains 
to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, 
fearful threatenings of certain judgment and fiery 
indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary. 

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

Max. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this 
world; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise 
myself much delight j but now every one of those 
things also bite me, and gnaw me, like a burning 
worm. 



52 THE INTERPRETER S HOUSE. 

Chr. But canst thou not now repent and turn ? 

Man. God hath denied me repentance. His word 
gives me no encouragement to believe ; yea, himself 
hath shut me up in this iron. cage: nor can all the 
men in the world let me out 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? 

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, lie shook and 
trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man 
thus tremble ? The Interpreter then bid him tell to 
Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began, 
and said, " This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, 
and behold the heavens grew exceeding black ; also it 
thundered and lightened in most fearful wise, that it 
put me into an agony. So I looked up in my dream, 
and saw the clouds rack, at an unusual rate ; upon 
which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also 
a man sitting upon a cloud, attended with the thou- 
sands of heaven; they were all in flaming fire; also 
the heavens were in a burning flame. I heard then a 
great voice, saying, " Arise, ye dead, and come to 
judgment." And with that the rocks rent, the graves 
opened, and the dead that were therein came forth : 



THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. 53 

some of them were exceeding glad, and looking up- 
ward ; and some sought to hide themselves under the 
mountains. Then I saw the man that sat upon the 
cloud, open the book and bid the world draw near. 
Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued 
out and came before him, a convenient distance be- 
twixt him and them, as betwixt the judge and the 
prisoners at the bar, 1 Corinthians, 15 ; 1 Thessaloni- 
ans, 4: 16; lade, 15; John, 5: 28, 29; 2 Thessaloni- 
ans, 1:8; 10 ; Revelations, 20 : 11 ; 14 ; Isaiah, 26 : 
21 ; Micah, 7 : 16, 17 ; Psalm 5 : 4 ; 50 ; 1 . 3 ; Malachi, 
3 : 2, 3 ; Daniel, 7 : 9, 10. I heard it also proclaimed 
to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, 
1 Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and 
cast them into the burning lake,' Matthew, 3:12; 13 : 
30; 24: 30; Malachi, 4:1. And with that the bot- 
tomless pit opened, just whereabout I stood ; out of the 
mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, 
smoke, and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was 
also said to the same persons, ' Gather my wheat into 
the garner,' Luke, 3, 17. And with that I saw many 
catched up and carried away into the clouds ; bat I 
was left behind, 1 Thessalonians, 4 : 16, 17. I also 
sought to hide myself, but I could not ; for the man 
that sat upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me : 
my sins also came into my mind ; and my conscience 
did accuse me on every side, Romans, 2 : 14, 15. Upon 
this I awakened from my sleep." 

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

Man. Why I thought that the day of judgment was 
come, and that I was not ready for it : but this af- 
frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several, 
and left me behind : also the pit of hell opened her 
5* 



54 CHRISTIAN LOSES HIS BURDEN AT THE CROSS. 

mouth just where I stood. My conscience too afflicted 
me ; and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye 
upon me, showing indignation in his countenance." 

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

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

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

" Here have I seen tilings rare and profitable, 

" Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable 

" In what 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." 

Now I saw in my dream, that the highway which 
Christian was to go was fenced on either side with a 
wall, and that wall was called Salvation, Isaiah, 26 : 1. 
Up this way therefore did burdened Christian run, 
but not without great difficulty, because of the load on 
his back. 

He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat as- 
cending; and upon that place stood a cross, and a lit- 
tle below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in my 
dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross 
his burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from 
off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to 
do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it 
fell in, and I saw it no more. 



WEEPING AND REJOICING AT THE CROSS OF CHRIST. 55 

Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said 
with a merry heart, " He hath given me When God re _ 
rest by his sorrow, and life bv his death." leafies "* of our 

mi -,-. i ■■, " ■. & uilt and l>urdeu, 

then he stood still a while to look and we are as those 
wonder; for it was very surprising to that leap for joy ' 
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, Zechariah, 12 : 10. Now as 
he stood looking and weeping, behold, three Shining 
Ones came to him, and saluted him with " Peace be to 
thee." So the first said to him, " Thy sins be forgiven 
thee," Mark, 2 : 5, the second stripped him of his rags, 
and clothed him with change of raiment, Zechariah, 3 : 
4, the third also set a mark on his forehead, Ephesians, 
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 ; so they went their way. 
Then Christian gave three leaps for joy, and went on 
singing, 

" Thus far did I come laden'with my sin; 

" Nor could 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? sing, though alone, 

* Must here the burden fall from off my back ? oiye hi • • . • 

" Must here the strings that bound it to me crack ? heart. 

41 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 saw, a little out 
of the way, three men fast asleep, with simple, sioth, 
fetters upon their heels. The name of and Presumption, 
the one was simple, of another Sloth, and of the third 
Presumption. 

Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to 



56 SIMPLE, SLOTH, AND PRESUMPTION. 

them, if peradventure he might awake them, and cried, 
You are like them that sleep on the top of a mast, 
Proverbs, 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 off with your irons. 
He also told them, If he that goeth about like a roar- 
ing lion 1 Peter, 5 : 8, comes by, you will certainly 
become a prey to his teeth. With that they looked 
There is no per- upon him, and began to reply in this 

suasion will do, if <n- i -j t j ^i m 

God opeueth not sort : Simple said, I see no danger ; Sloth 
the eyes. sa [^ Yet a little more sleep ; and Pre- 

sumption said, Every tub must stand upon its own 
bottom. And so they lay down to sleep again, and 
Christian went on his way. 

Yet was he troubled to think, that men in that dan- 
ger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so 
freely offered to help them, both by awakening of 
them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them 
off with their irons. And as he was troubled there- 
about, he espied two men come tumbling over the 
wall on the left hand of the narrow way ; and they 
made up apace to him. The name of the one was 
Formalist, and the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, 
as I said, they drew up unto him, who thus entered 
with them into discourse. 

Chr. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither do 

Christian talks YOU gO ? 

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

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

Chr. Why came you not in at the gate which stand- 
eth at the beginning of the way ? Know ye not that it 
is written, that " he that cometh not in by the door, 
but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief 
and a robber?" John, 10 : 1. 



FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY. 57 

Form, and Hyp. They said, that to go to the gate 
for entrance v/as 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 ? 

F0R1M. and Hyp. They told him, that as for that, he 
needed not to trouble his head thereabout : for what 
they did they had custom for, and could produce, if 
need were, testimony that would witness it, for more 
than a thousand years. 

Chr. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a 
trial at law ? 

Form, and Hyp. They told him, that custom, it be- 
ing of so long standing as above a thou- Thev that come 
sand years, would doubtless now be ad- into , the Y ay \ but 

, , . . . «ot bv the door, 

nutted as a thing legal by an impartial think that thev can 
judge : and besides, said they, if we get SS^K 
into the way, what matter is it which own practice, 
way we get in? If we are in, we are in : thou art but 
in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate ; 
and we also are in the way, that came tumbling over 
the wall: wherein now is thy condition better than 
ours? 

Chr. I walk by the rule of my Master : you walk by 
the rude working of your fancies. You are counted 
thieves already by the Lord of the way : therefore I 
doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the 
way. You come in by yourselves without his direc- 
tion, 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 



58 FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY 

on every man in his way, without much conference 
one with another ; save that these two men told Chris- 
tian, that as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not 
but that they should as conscientiously do them as he. 
Therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou dif- 
ferest from us, but by the coat that is on thy back, 
which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy 
neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness. 

Cur. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved 
since you came not in by the door, Galatians, 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 his kindness to me; for I had nothing but 

Christian has got ra S S before - Alld besides thllS I COm- 

liis Lord's coat on f or t myself as I go. Surely, think I, 
comforted ^here- when I come to the gate of the city, the 
w,th - Lord thereof will know me for good, 

since I have his coat on my back; a coat that he gave 
He is comforted me freely in the day that he stript me of 

also with his mark _ , ■ • • 

and his roil. my rags. I have, moreover, a mark in 

my forehead, of which perhaps you have taken no no- 
tice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates 
fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoul- 
ders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given me 
a roll sealed, to comfort me by reading as I go in the 
way ; I was also bid to give it in at the celestial gate, 
in token of my certain going in after it ; all which 
things I doubt you want, and want them because you 
came not in at the gate. 

To these things they gave him no answer ; only 
they looked upon each other, and laughed. Then I 
christian has talk saw that they went on all, save that 
with himself. Christian kept before, who had no more 



CHRISTIAN REACHES THE HILL DIFFICULTY. 59 

talk but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly, 
and sometimes comfortably ! also he would be often 
reading in the roll that one Of the Shining Ones gave 
him', by which he was refreshed. 

I beheld then* that they all went on till they came 
to the foot of the hill Difficulty, at the He come8 10 m 
bottom of which there was a spring, hill Difficulty. 
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 hill ; but the narrow way lay right 
up the hill, and the name of the going up the side of 
the hill is Called Difficulty. Christian How went to 
the spring, Isaiah, 49: 10; and drank thereof to re- 
fresh himself, and then began to go up the hill, saying, 

The hill, tlidugh 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. 

Setter, though difficult, the right way to go, 

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

The other two also came to the foot of the hill. 
But When they saw that the hill was steep and high, 
and that there Were two other ways to go ; and sup- 
posing also that these two ways might meet again 
with that up which Christian went on the other side 
of the hill ; therefore they were resolved to go in 
those Ways; NoW the name of one of those ways 
was Danger, and the name of the other Destruction. 
So the one took the way Which is called The danger or 

,.,,,,. . , , turning out of tho 

Danger, which led him into a great way. 
Wood ; and the other took directly up the way to De- 
struction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark 
mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no 
more. 



60 HE CLiMfiS THE HtLL.— THE ARBOft. 

I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the 
hill, where I perceived he fell from running to goings 
and from going to clambering upon his hands and his 
a woni of grace, knees, because of the steepness of the 
place. Now about 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, therefore, 
Christian got, Where also he sat down to rest him i 
then he pulled his roll out of hisbosonij and read therein 
to his comfort j he also now began afresh to take a re- 
view of the coat or garment that was given him as he 
stood by the cross. Thus pleasing himself awhile, he 
at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast sleeps 
which detained him in that place until it was almost 

He that sleep.-, is night j and in his sleep his roll fell out 
aIoser - 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," Proverbs, 6 : 6. And with that Christian sud- 
denly 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 to meet him amain ; the name 

christian meets r t j ie one was Timorous, and of the 

with Mistrust and ' » 

Timorous. other Mistrust : to whom Christian said, 

Sirs, what's the matter? you run the wrong way 
Timorous answered, that they were going to the city 
of Zion, and had got up that difficult place : but, said 
he, the 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 couple of 
lions in the way, whether sleeping or waking we know 
not , and we could not think, if we came within reachj 
but they would presently pull us in pieces. 



HE MISSES HiS ROLL. 61 

Chr. Then said Christian, You make me afraid; 
but whither shall I 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 go back is nothing but Christian sh*k«* 
death: to go forward is fear of death offfenr - 
and life everlasting beyond it: I will yet go forward. 
So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill, and 
Christian went on his way. But thinking again of what 
he heard from the man, he felt in his bosom for his 
roll, that he might read therein, and be christian misses 
comforted ; but he felt, and found it not. hifi \ ott «*«i" '»« 

' . » used to take corn- 

Then was Christian in great distress, fort. 

and knew not what to do; for he wanted that which 
used to relieve him, and that which should have been 
his pass into the celestial city. Here, therefore, 
he began to be much perplexed, and He is pe rpi«ed 
knew not what to do. At last he be- for his roU - 
thought himself that he had slept in the arbor that is 
on the side of the hill ; and falling down upon his 
knees, he asked God forgiveness for that his foolish 
act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all 
the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth 
the sorrow of Christian's heart ? Sometimes he sighed, 
sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself 
for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which 
was erected only for a little refreshment from his 
weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully 
looking on this side and on that, all the way as he 
went, if happily he might find his roll that had been 
his comfort so many times in his journey. He went 
thus till he came again within sight of the arbor 
where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed 
6 



62 HE GOES TO THE ARBOR AND FINDS HIS ROLL. 

his sorrow the more, by bringing again even 
christian bewails afresh, his evil of sleeping unto his 
hi S fooii8h 8 iee P ing. mindj Revelations, 2 ; 4; 1 Thessaloni- 
ans, 5 : 6 — 8. Thus, therefore, he now went on, be- 
wailing his sinful sleep, saying, O wretched 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 in- 
dulge the flesh as to use that rest for ease to my flesh 
which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the 
relief of the spirits of pilgrims ! How many steps have 
I 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 trod but once : 
yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is 
almost spent. O that I had not slept ! 
Now by this time he was come to the arbor again, 
„, . . , , , Where for a while he sat down and wept : 

Christian nndeth . , ' 

his roll where he but at last (as Providence would have 
loetl1, it) looking sorrowfully down under the 

settle, there he espied his roll, the Which he with trem- 
bling and haste catched up, and put it into his bosom. 
But who can tell how joyful this man was when he 
had gotten his roll again ? For this roll Was the as- 
surance of his life, and acceptance at the desired haven. 
Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to 
G«d for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and 
with joy and tears betook himself again to his journey. 
But oh how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the 
hill ! Yet, before he got up, the sun went down upon 
Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity 



THE PALACE CALLED BEAUTIFUL. 63 

of his sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again 
began to condole with himself : Oh thou sinful sleep ! 
how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my jour- 
ney ! I must walk without the sun, darkness must 
cover the path of my feet and I must hear the noise of 
the doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep ! Now 
also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timo- 
rous told him, of how ihey were frighted with the 
sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself 
again, These beasts range in the night for their prey, 
and if they should meet with me in the dark, how 
should I shift them ? how should I escape being by 
them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on his way. But 
while he was thus bewailing his unhappy miscarriage, 
he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately 
palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful, 
and it stood just by the highway -side, Revelations, 3 : 
2 ; 1 Thessalonians, 5 : 7, 8. 

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 dangers that Mistrust and Timo- 
rous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, 
but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and 
thought also himself to go back after them ; for he 
thought nothing but death was before him. But the 
Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiv- 
ing that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, 
cried unto him, saying, Is thy strength so small ? 
Mark, 4 : 40. Fear not the lions, for they are chained, 
and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and 



64 THE LIONS. — CONVERSATION WITH THE PORTER. 

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

Then I saw that he went on trembling for fear of 
the lions : but taking good heed to the directions of 
the Porter, he heard them roar, but they did him no 
harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till 
he came and stood before the gate where the Porter 
was. Then said Christian to the Porter, Sir, what house 
is this ? and may I lodge here to-night ? The Porter 
answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, 
and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. 
The Porter also asked whence he was, and whither he 
was going. 

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

Port. What is your name ? 

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

Port. But how doth it happen that you come so 
late ? The sun is set. 

Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man 
as 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 finding it not, I was forced with 
sorrow of heart to go back to the place where I slept 
my sleep, where I found it ; and now I am come. 

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, according to the rules of the 



CONVERSATION WITH DISCRETION. 65 

house. So Watchful the Porter rang a bell, at the 
sound of which came out of the door of the house a 
grave 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 being 
weary and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge 
here to-night: so I told him I would call for thee, 
who, after discourse had with him, mayest do as 
seemeth thee good, even according to the law of the 
house. 

Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he 
was going j 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 per- 
ceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for 
the relief and security of pilgrims. So she smiled, but 
the water stood in her eyes; and after a little pause 
she said, I will call forth two or three more of the fa- 
mily. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, 
Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse 
with him, had him into the family ; and many of them 
meeting him at the threshold of the house, said, Come 
in, thou blessed of the Lord ; this house was built by 
the Lord of the hill on purpose to entertain such pil- 
grims 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 to- 
gether that, until supper was ready, some of them 
should have some particular discourse with Christian, 
for the best improvement of time ; and they appointed 
6* 



66 TALK WITH PIETY, 

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

Piety. Come, good Christian, since we have been 

Piety discourses so loving to you to receive you into 
with him. our nouse tn j s night, let us, if perhaps 

we may better ourselves thereby, talk with you of 
all things that have happened to you in your pil- 
grimage. 

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 pilgrim's life? 

Chr. I was driven out of my native country by a 

How Christian dreadful sound that was in mine 
was driven out of ears ; to wit, that unavoidable destruc- 
country. ^^ ^ 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 ? 

Chr. It was as God would have it ; for when I was 

under the fears of destruction I did not know whither 

How he got into to go ; but by chance there came a man, 

the way to Zion. even to me) as j 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. 
Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the remem- 
a rehearsal of Drance °f which will stick by me as 

what he saw in the long as I live, especially three things; 
to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, 

maintains his work of grace in the heart; how the man 



PRUDENCE, AND CHARITY. 67 

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 judgment was come. 

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

Chr. Yesj 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 eternal 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 farther 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 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 be- 
fore : 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 for- 
given me , another 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 ? j 



68 TALK WITH PIETY, 

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 pretended, to Zion ; but they 
were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them, but 
they would not believe. But, above all, I found it 
hard work to get up this hill, and as hard to come 
by the lions' mouths ; and truly, if it had not been 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 few 
questions, and desired his answer to them. 

Prudence dis- Pr. Do you not think sometimes of 
courses with him. the coimtry from whe nce you came ? 

Chr. Yea ; but with much shame and detestation. 

. r Truly, if I had been mindful of that 

thought/ of his country from whence I came out, I 

native country. might haye ha( j opportunity to have 

returned, but now I desire a better country, that is, a 
heavenly one, Hebrews, 11 : 15, 16. 

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

Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially 

my inward and carnal cogitations, with which all my 

countrymen, as well as myself, were delighted. But 

now all those things are my grief; and might I but 

choose mine own things, I would choose 

Christian's choice. lL . , e :, ' , • 

never to think of those things more ; 
*"Tit when I would be a doing that which is best, 
that which is worst is with me, Romans, 7: 15; 21. 



PRUDENCE, AND CHARITY. 69 

Pr. Do you not find sometime 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 things christian's golden 
happen to me. hour3 ' 

Pr. Can you remember by what means you find 
your annoyances at times as if they were vanquished 1 

Chr. Yes ; when I think of what I saw at the cross, 
that will do it ; and when I look upon How christian 
my broidered coat, that will do it : and p ts power against 

; , , , , \ g , , -r his corruptions. 

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 on the cross : and there I hope to Whv christian 

.».„:', , . , , . would be at Mount 

be rid of all those things that to this zion. 
day are in me an annoyance to me : there they say 
there is no death, Isaiah, 25 : 8 ; Revelations, 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 burden ; and I am weary 
of my inward sickness. I would fain be where I shall 
die no more, and with the company that shall conti- 
nually cry, Holy, Holy, Holy. 

Then said Charity to Christian, Have charity discour*- 
you a family, are you a married man ? es with him - 

Chr. I have a wife and four small children. 

Char. And why did you not bring them along with 
you? 

Chr. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how will- 
ingly wc-jld I have done it ! but they christian's love 
were all of them utterly averse to my *y£ s en wife aad 
going on pilgrimage. 



70 TALK WITH PIETY, 

Char. But you should have talked with them, and 
have endeavored to have shown them the danger of 
staying behind. 

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

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

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

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

christian's fear Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over, 
be ^TinTis""?^ They might also see my fears in my 
counteuance. countenance, in my tears, and also in 
trembling under the apprehension of the judgment 
that did hang over our heads ; but all was not suffi- 
cient to prevail with them to come with me. 

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

Chr. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, 

The cause why and my children were given to the fool- 
5re.rd1d n not Ch go Ui delights of youth j so, what by one 
with him. thing, and what by another, they left 

me to wander in this manner alone. 

Char. But did you not with your vain life damp all 
that you, by words, used by way of persuasion to 
bring them away with you ? 

Chr. Indeed I cannot commend my life, for I am 
conscious to myself of many failings therein. I know 
also, that a man, by his conversation, may soon over- 



prudence, and charity. ?1 

IhroW 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 occasion, by any 
unseemly action, to make them averse to going on 
pilgrimage. 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. 

Chr, Indeed, Cain hated his brother, 1 John, 3 : 12 ; 
because his own works were evil, and his brother's 
righteous ; and if thy wife and children Christian c i ear 
have been offended with thee for this, <* *»•»* blood if 

i i l " e y perish. 

they thereby show them?flves to be 

implacable to good ; tho' W A^t delivered thy soul from 

their blood, Ezekiel, 3 : & 

Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking 
together until supper was ready. So when they had 
made ready they sat down to meat. Now the table 
was furnished with fat things, and wine what Christian 
that was well refined ; and all their talk bad for his •»»"• 
at the table was about the Lord of the hill ; as namelv. 
about what he had done, and wherefore Their talk at 
he did what he did, and why he had su PP er - 
builded that house ; and by what they said, I perceived 
that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with 
and slain him that had the power of death, Hebrew, 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 Christian, he 
did it with the loss of much blood. But that whieh 
pit the glory of grace into all he did, was, that he did 



72 THE WONDERS SHOWN TO CHKfSTiAlb 

it out of pure love to this country. And besides, tfrefd 
were some of them of the household that said they had 
been and spoke with him sinee he did die on the cross * 
and they have attested, that they had it from his own 
lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the 
like is not to be found from the east to the west. They, 
moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed , 
and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory that 
he might do this for the poor ; and that they had 
heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in 
the mountain of Zion alone. They said, moreover, 
Christ makes that he had made many pilgrims prin- 
prince 6 of beggars. cegj though by nature they were beggars 
born, and their original had been the dunghill, 1 Sa- 
muel, 2:8; Psalm 113:7. 

Thus they discoursed toother till late at night ; and 
after they had committed 4V+ ' jiselves to their Lord for 
their protection they betOv-^ '.Viemselves to rest. The 
pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose 
Christian's bed- window opened toward the sun-rising* 
chamber. T j 1(J name f fljg cnam ber 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 *ba\ I should be forgiven, 
And dwell already the next door to heaven. 

JSo in the morning they all got up ; and, after some 
more discourse, they to ] d him that he should not de- 
part till they had shown him the rarities of that place- 
Christian had And first they had, him into the study, 
into the study, wn ere they showed him records of the 

and what he saw J 

there. greatest antiquity ; in which, as I re- 

member my dream, they showed him the pedigree of 



- 



THE WONDERS SHOWN TO CHRISTIAN. 73 

the Lord of the hill, that he was the Son of the An- 
cient of days, and came by that eternal generation. 
Here also was more fully recorded the acts that he 
had done, and the names of many hundreds that he 
had taken into his service ; and how he had placed 
them in such habitations, that could neither by length 
of days, nor decays of nature, be dissolved. 

Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that 
some of his servants had done ; as how they had 
subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained 
promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the 
violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of 
weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight 
and turned to flight the armies of the aliens, Hebrews, 
11:33,34. 

Then they read again another part of the records 
of the house, where it was shown how willing their 
Lord was to receive into his favor any, even any, 
though they in time past had offered great affronts to 
his person and proceedings. Here also were several 
ether 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 all christian had into 
manner of furniture which their Lord the armor y- 
had provided for pilgrims, 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. 
7 



74 THE WONDERS SHOWN TO CHRISTIAN. 

They also showed him some of the engines with 

Christie is made wnicl1 some of his ****** had done 

to see ancient wonderful things. They showed him 
Moses' rod j 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 ; s 
goad wherewith Sham gar slew six hundred men. 
They showed him also the jaw-bone with which Sam- 
son did such mighty feats. They showed him more- 
over 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 thai he shall rise up to 
the prey. They showed him besides many excellent 
things, with which Christian was much delighted. 
This done, they went to their rest again. 

Then I saw in my dream, that on ihe morrow he 
got up to go forward, but they desired him to stay till 
the next day also 3 and then, said they, we will, if the 
day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains ; 
which, they said, would yet farther 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 tu 

christian show- the to P of the house, and bid him look 
fid the Delectable south. So he did, and behold, at a great 
distance, he saw a most pleasant, moun- 
tainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, 
fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and foun 
tains, very delectable to behold, Isaiah, 33 : 16, 17.. 
Then he asked the v\ame of the country. They said 
it was ImmannePs la.id ; and it is as common said 
mey, as this hill is, to tnd for all the pilgrims. And 
when thou comest there from thenc?, said they, thou 



CHRISTIAN IS ARMED AND PURSUES HIS JOURNEY. 75 

mayest see to the gate of the celestial city, as the shep- 
herds that live there will make appear. 

Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and 
they were willing he should. But first, christian sets 
said they, let us go again into the ar- forward - 
mory. So they did, and when he came there they 
harnessed him from head to foot with what was of 
proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the 
way. He being therefore thus accoutred, walked out 
with his friends to the gate ; ami there Christian sent 
he asked the Porter if he saw any pil- awa ^ armed - 
grim pass by. Then the Porter answered, Yes. 

Chr. Pray did you know him ? said he. 

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

Chr. O, said Christian, I know him; he is my towns- 
man, my near neighbor; he comes from the place 
where I was born. How far do you think he may be 
before ? 

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

Chr. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord 
be with thee, and add to thy blessings How Christian 
much increase for the kindness thou *"<* the Porter 

hast Showed tO me. greet at parting. 

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, re- 
iterating their former discourses, till they came to go 
down the hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult 
coming up, so, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going 
down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is ; for it is a hard 
matter for a man to go down into the valley of Humi- 
liation, as thou art now, and to catch no The valley of Hu- 
slip by the way ; therefore, said they, filiation. 



76 CHRISTIAN MEETS APOLLYON. 

are we come out to accompany thee down the hill. So 
he began to go down, but very warily ; yet he caught 
a slip or two. 

Then I saw in my dream, that these good compa- 
nions, when Christian was got down to the bottom of 
the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and 
a cluster of raisins ; and then he went his way. 

But now, in this valley of Humiliation, poor Chris- 
tian was hard put to it ; for he had gone but a little 
way before he espied a foul fiend coming over the field 
to meet him : his name is Apollyon. Then did Chris- 
tian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether 
to go back, or to stand his ground. But he considered 
Christian has no again that he had no armor for his back, 
armor for his back. an( i ti iere fore thought that to turn the 
back to him might give him greater advantage with 
ease to pierce him with his darts ; therefore he resolved 
to venture, and stand his ground ; for, thought he, had 
I no more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it 
would be the best way to stand. 

So he went on, and Apoltyon met him. Now the 
monster was hideous to behold ; he was clothed with 
scales like a fish, and they arc 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 came up to Christian he beheld 
him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to 
question with him. 

Apollyon. Whence come you, and 

Discourse ne- J ' 

twixtchristianand whither are you bound? 

Apollyon. Chr j am CQme from the c[{y q( De _ 

struction, which is the place of all evil, and I am go- 
ing to the city of Zion. 
Apol. By this I perceive that thou art one of my 



apollyon's deceitful discourse. 77 

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 
that thou mayest do me more service, I would strike 
thee now at one blow to the ground. 

Chr. I was, indeed, born in your dominions, but 
your service was hard, and your wages such as a man 
could not live on ; for the wages of sin is death, Ro- 
mans, 6 : 23 ; therefore when I was come to years, I 
did, as other considerate persons do, look out, if per- 
haps I might mend myself. 

Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose 
his subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee; but since 
thou complainest of thy service and Apollyon's flat- 
wages, be content to go back, and what ter ^- 
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 pro- 
verb, "changed a bad for a worse;" but - Apollyon under . 
it is ordinary for those that have pro- v ?\ies Christ's ser- 
fessed themselves his servants, after a 
while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do 
thou so too, and all shall be well. 

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

Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am 
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 

7* 



78 apollyon's deceitful discourse. 

also what I did as to my compliance with thee. And 
besides, thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, 
I like his service, his wages, his servants, his govern- 
ment, his company, and country, better than thine; 
therefore leave off to persuade me farther ; I am his 
servant, and I will follow him. 
Apol. Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, 
Apollyon pleads what thou art like to meet with in the 

rfffiEEL-tW that thou s° est - Thou knowest 

dissuade christian that for the most part his servants come 

troin persisting m x 

his way. to an ill end, because they are trans • 

gressors against me and my ways. How many of 
them have been put to shameful deaths ! And besides, 
thou countest his service better than mine ; whereas he 
never came yet from the place where he is, to deliver 
any that served him out of my hands ; but as for me, 
how many times, as all the world very well knows, 
have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that 
have faithfully served me, from him and his, though 
taken by them ! And so I will deliver thee. 

Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them, is 
on purpose to try their love, whether they will cleave 
to him to the end ; and as for the ill end thou sayest 
they come to, that is most glorious in their account. 
For, for the present deliverance, they do not much ex- 
pect it ; for they stay for their glory ; and then they 
shall have it, when their Prince comes in his, and the 
glory of the angels. 

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

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

Apol. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when 



CONFLICT BETWEEN CHRISTIAN AND APOLLYON. 79 

thou wast almost choked in the Gulf of Apoiiyon pleads 
Despond. Thou didst attempt wrong christian's iufirmi- 

, . • ■ •; , , . ties against him. 

ways to be rid 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 also almost persuaded 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 art inwardly 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 country; for there I 
sucked them in, and I have groaned under them, been 
sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my Prince. 

Apol. Then Apoiiyon broke out into a grievous 
rage, saying, I am an enemy to this ApoHyon, in 

t» • t i ■> ■ i • -i i ra ? e i falls upon 

Prince ; 1 hate his person, his laws, and christian, 
people ; I am come out on purpose to withstand thee. 

Chr. Apoiiyon, beware what you do, for I am in 
the king's highway, the way of holiness ; therefore 
take heed to yourself. 

Apol. Then Apoiiyon straddled quite over the 
whole breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear 
in this matter. Prepare thyself to die ; for I swear 
by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no farther: 
here will I spill thy soul. And with that he threw a 
flaming dart at his breast ; but Christian had a shield 
in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented 
the danger of that. 

Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to 
bestir him ; and Apoiiyon as fast made at him, throw- 
ing darts as thick as hail; by the which, notwith- 






80 CONFLICT BETWEEN CHRISTIAN AND APOLLYON. 

standing all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apol- 
Christian wounded lvon wounded him in his head, his 
taftaSSSt^d, and foot. This made Chris- 
versation. tiaii give a little back : Apollyon, there- 

fore, followed his work amain, and Christian again 
took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. 
This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till 
Christian was almost quite spent. For you must 
know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must 
needs grow weaker and weaker. 

Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to 
close to Christian, wrestling with him, gave him a 
Apollyon casteth dreadful fall ; and with that Christian's 

Christian down to , _ - , . . , „. . , 

the ground. sword flew out of his hand. Then said 

Apollyon, I am sure of thee now. And with that he 
had almost pressed him to death ; so that Christian 
began to despair of life. But, as God would have it, 
while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to 
make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly 
reached out his hand for his sword, and caught it, say- 
ing, Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I 
fall, I shall arise, Micah, 7:8; and with that gave him 
christian's victory a deadly thrust, which made him give 
over Apollyon. back, as one that had received his mor- 
tal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him 
again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are moie 
than conquerors through Him that loved us, Romans, 
8: 37. And with that Apollyon spread forth his dra- 
gon's wings, and sped him away, that Christian saw 
him no more, James, 4: 7. 

In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had 
A brief relation of se en and heard as I did, what yelling 

the combat by the ... . . .. , „ 

epectator. and hideous roaring Apollyon made all 

the time of the fight ; he spake like a dragon : and on 



christian's victory. 81 

the other side, what sighs and groans burst from 
Christian's heart. I never saw him all the while give 
so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had 
wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword ; then, 
indeed, he did smile, and look upward ; but it was the 
dreadfullest fight that ever I saw. 

So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will 
here give thanks to Him that hath Chrigtian gives 
delivered me out of the mouth of the Gotl tlianks ft* hi* 
lion ; to him that did help me against 
Apollyon. And so he did, saying, 

Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend, 
Design'd my ruin ; therefore to this end 
He sent him harness'd out, and he with rage, 
That hellish was, did fiercely me eng.ige : 
But blessed Michael helped me, and I, 
By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly. 
Therefore to Him let mc give lastin? 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 wounds that he had received in the bat- 
tle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in 
that place to eat bread, and to drink of the bottle that 
was given to 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 christian gnes 
not but some other enemy may be at JJ™ h ^ *^JJJ 
hand. But he met with no other af- drawn in his hand, 
front from Apollyon quite through this valley. 

Now at the end of this valley was another, called 
the Valley of the Shadow of Death; TheVaiieyofthe 
and Christian must needs go through Sbadoff of DeatiK 
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 



82 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 

M'ilderness, a land of deserts and pits, a land of 
drought, and of the Shadow of Death, a land that no 
man" (hut a christian) " passeth through, and where 
no man dwelt," Jeremiah, 2 : 6. 

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

I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was 
got to the borders of the Shadow of Death, there 

The children of met him two men, children of them 
the spies go back. that brought up an evil report of the 
good land, Numbers, 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 in- 
deed we were almost past coming back ; for had we 
gone a little further, we had not been here to bring 
the news to thee. 

Chr. But what have you met with? said Christian. 

Men. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the 
Shadow of Death, but that by good hap we looked be- 
fore us, and saw the danger before we came to it; 
Psalm 44: 19; 107:19. 

Chr. But what have you seen? said Christian. 

Men. Seen ! why the valley itself, which is as dark 
as pitch : we also saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and 
dragons of the pit : we heard also in that valley a con- 
tinual howling and yelling, as of a people under unut- 
terable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and 
irons ; and over that valley hangs the discouraging 
clouds of confusion : death also doth always spread his 



THE HORRORS OF THIS VALLEY. 83 

wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, be- 
ing utterly without order, Job, 3 : 5 5 10 : 22. 

Chr. Then, said Christian, I perceive not yet^ by 
Avhat you have said, but that this is my way to the 
desired haven, Psalm 44 : 18, 19 ; Jeremiah, 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 5 that 
ditch is it, into which the blind have led the blind in 
all ages, and have both there miserably perished, 
Again, behold, on the left hand there was a very dan- 
gerous 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, Psalm 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 ditch on the 
one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on 
the other: also, when he sought to escape the mire, 
without great carefulness he would be ready to fall 
into the ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him 
here sigh bitterly; for beside 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 way side, 
Now, thought Christian, what shall I do ? And ever 
and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such 



84 THE HORRORS OF THIS VALLEY. 

abundance, with sparks and hideous noises, (things 
that cared not for Christian's sword, as did Apollyon 
before,) that he was forced to put up his sword, and 
betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer, 
Eph. 6 : IS ; so he cried, in my hearing, O Lord, I be- 
seech thee, deliver my soul, Psalm 116 : 4. Thus lie 
went on a great while, yet still the flames would be 
reaching toward him 5 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- 
» stand fora white, ward to meet him, he stopped, and began 

to muse what he had best to do. Some- 
times he had half a thought to go back; then again lie 
thought he might be half way through the valley. He 
remembered also, how he had already vanquished 
many a danger; and that the danger of going back 
might be much more than for to go forward. So he re- 
solved 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 ?ave 
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 perceived it. Just 

when he was come over against the 

Christian made he- . . . . 

lieve that he spake mouth of the burning pit, one of the 

Si^&^bS wicked ones S 0t behind him > and ste P" 

suggcsted them iu- p e d up softly to him, and, whisperingly, 

to his mind. 1 +.* . ui u • 

suggested many grievous blasphemies 



A FELLOW TRAVELLER OVERHEARD— MORNING DAWNS. 85 

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 
lie should now blaspheme Him that he loved so much 
before. 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 blas- 
phemies came. 

When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate 
condition some considerable time, he thought he heard 
the voice of a man, as going before him, saying, Though 
I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I 
will fear no 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, 
{hough in that dark and dismal state. And why not, 
thought he, with me ? though by reason of the impedi- 
ment 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 himself to be alone. And by 
and by the day broke : then said Chris- 
tian, "He hath turned the shadow of brJk of day* 
death into the morning," Amos, 5 : 8. 

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. 
8 



85 THE GIANTS, POPE AND PAGAN, OF THE VALLEY; 

Also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dra- 
gons of the pit, but all afar oft'; for after break of day 
they came not nigh, yet they were discovered to him, 
according to that which is written " He discovereth 
deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light 
the shadow of death," Job, 12 ; 22. 

Now was Christian much affected with this delive- 
rance from all the dangers of his solitary way; which 
dangers, though he feared them much before, yet he 
saw them more clearly now, because the light of the 
day made them conspicuous to him. And about this 
lime 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 dange- 
The sorond art Y0US ) Y et tms second part, which he was 
bf mi: vaiiey very yet to go, was, if possible, far more dange- 
rous ; for, from the place where he now 
stood, even to the end of the valley, the way was all 
along sei 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 
lie came the first part of the way, had he had a thou- 
sand souls, they had in reason been cast away ; but, as 
I said, just now the sun was rising. Then said he, 
" His candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go 
through darkness," 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 mangled bodies 
of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way for- 
merly ; and while I was musing what should be the rea- 
son, I espied a little before me a cave, where two 
giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old time ; by whose 
power and tyranny the men, whose bones, blood, ashes, 



SONG OF DELIVERANCE — CHRISTIAN SEES FAITHFUL. 87 

&c. lay there, were cruelly put to death. But by this 
place Christian went without much danger, whereat I 
somewhat wondered ; but I have learnt since, that 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 cannot come at them. 

So I 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, especially because he 
spoke to him, though he could not go after him, say- 
ing, 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 preserved in that distress 

That I have met with here ! O blessed be 

That hand that from it hath deliver'd me l 

Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, 

Did compass me, while I tins vale was in ; 

Yea, snares, and pits, and traps, and nets did lie 

My path about, that worthless, silly I 

Might have been catch'd, entangled, and cast down . 

But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown. 

Now as Christian went on his way, he came to a 
little ascent, which was cast up on purpose that pil- 
grims might see before them; up there, therefore, 
Christian went ; and looking forward, he saw Faithful 
before him upon his journey. Then said Christian 
aloud, Ho, ho ; so-ho ; stay, and I will be your com- 
panion. At that Faithful looked behind him ; to whom 
Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up to you. 
But Faithful answered, No, I am upon my life, and 
the avenger of blood is behind me. 



88 CHRISTIAN OVERTAKES FAITHFUL. 

At this Christian was somewhat moved, and put- 
christiaa over- ting to all his strength, he quickly got 
takes Faithful. up with Faithful, and did also overrun 
him ; so the last was first. Then did Christian vain- 
gloriously smile, because he had gotten the start of his 
brother ; but not taking good heed to his feet, he sud- 
denly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until 
Faithful came up to help him. 
Then I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly 
on together, and had sweet discourse 
mttkeaPaithrtilaiid of all things that had happened to them 
he go lovingly to- j n t j ie i r pilgrimage : and thus Christian 

gether. r ° ° ' 

began. 

Chr. My honored and well-beloved brother Faith- 
ful, 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. 
fFAjyh. I had thought, dear friend, to have had your 
cWptfny quite from our town ; but you did get the 
start of me ; wherefore I was forced to come thus 
much of the way alone. 

Chr. How long did you stay in the City of Destruc- 
tion before you set out after me on your pilgrimage 1 

Faith. Till I could stay no longer ; for there was 

_ . _ . great talk presently after you were 

Their talk about ° r ' J , 

the country from gOlie OUt, that 0111* City WOllld, in a 
whence they came. gh()rt ^^ wUh fire from heayen be 

burnt down to the ground. 

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 1 

Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk 
thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly believe 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 89 

it. For in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of 
them deridingly speak of you, and of your desperate 
journey ; for so they called this your pilgrimage. But 
I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city will 
be with fire and brimstone from above ; and therefore 
I have made 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 p)iable waa 
sorts of people : some do mock and des- accounted of when 

i ■ t >ti , t • he got home. 

pise him, and scarce will any set him 

on work. He is now seven times worse than if he 

had never gone out of the city. 

Chr. But 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 turncoat ; 
he was not true to his profession ! I think God has 
stirred up even His enemies to hiss at him, and make 
him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way, Jere- 
miah, 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 of 
that man ; but now I fear he will perish in the over- 
throw of the city. For it has happened to him accord- 
8* 



90 DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 

ing to the true proverb, "The dog is turned to his 
vomit again, and the sow that was washed to her wal- 
lowing in the mire, 2 Peter, 2 : 22. 

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

Chr. Well, neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us 
leave him, and talk of things that more immediately 
concern ourselves. Tell me 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 es caped the sloug h that I perceive you 

fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger ; 

Faithful assault- only Ljnet with one whose name 

ed by wanton. was W^tc^n, w ho had like to have 

done me mischief^ "* 

Chr. It was well you escaped her net ; Joseph was 
hard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did ; 
but it had like to have cost him his life, Gen. 39 : 
11 — 13. But what did she do to you ? 

Faith. You cannot think (but that you know some- 
thing) what a flattering tongue she had ; she lay at 
me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all man- 
ner of content. 

Chr. Nay, she did not promise you the content of 
a good conscience. 

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

Chr. Thank God you have escaped her ; the ab- 
horred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch, Prov. 22 : 14. 
Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly es- 
cape her or no. 

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



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 91 

Faith. No, not to defile myself ; for I remembered 
an old writing 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? 

Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill call- 
ed Difficulty, I met with a very aged 
man^o asked me what I was, and ^dtSS 
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? Then I asked him his name, and 
where he dwelt. He said his name was {C darj t he 
first, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit, Eph. 
4 : 22. I asked him then, what was his"^!vork, 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 at last. I further asked him, what 
house he kept, and what other servants he had. So 
he told me, that his house was maintained with all 
the dainties of the Avorld, and that his servants were 
those of his own begetting. Then I asked him how 
manydiildren he had. Hft.snid tl^t^p. had hut, \hve.e. 
daughte rs, the Lust o f the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, 
and the P ride o f*lHTe7 1 John, 2 : 10; and that I sjxonld 
marry them, if 1 would. Then I asked, how long 
time he would have me live with him ; and he told 
me, as long as he lived himself. 

Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man 
and you to at last ? 

Faith. Why, at first I found myself somewhat in- 



92 DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 

clinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake 
very fair ; but looking in his forehead, as I talked 
with him, I saw there written, " Put off the old man 
with his deeds." 

Chr. And how then ? 

Faith. Then it came burning hot into my rama, 
whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he 
got me home to his house he would sell me for a 
slave. So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not 
come near the door of his house. Then he reviled 
me, and told me he would send such a one after 
me that should make my way bitter to my soul. So I 
turned to go away from him ; but just as I turned my- 
self to go thence I felt him take hold of my flesh, and 
give me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought he 
had pulled part of me after himself: this made me 
cry, " Oh ..wretched man," Rom. 7 : 24. So I went 
on my way up the hill. 

Now when I had got about half way up, I looked be- 
hind me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the 
wind ; so he overtook me just about, ^he 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, he was but a word and a blow ; 
for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But 
when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him 
wherefore he served me so. He said, because of my 
secret inclining to Adam the first. And with that he 
struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and 
beat me down backward ; so I lay at his foot as dead 
as before. So when I came to myself again, I cried 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 93 

him mercy : but he said, I know not how to show 
mercy ; and with that he knocked me down again. 
He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one 
came by, and bid him forbear. 

Chr. Who was that that bid him forbear ? 

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

Chr. That man that overtook you was Moses. He 
spareth none ; neither knoweth he how to show mercy 
to those that transgress his law. 

Faith. I know it very well ; it was not the first time 
that he has met with me. 'Twas he that came to me 
when I dwelt securely at home, and that told me he 
would burn my house over my head if I stayed there. 

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

Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it. 
But for the lions, I think they were asleep, for it was 
about noon ; and becaose 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 ? 

Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would 
willingly have persuaded me to go back Faithfu , assauIt 
again with him : his reason was, for ed h y Discontent, 
that the valley was altogether without honor. He 



94 DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL^ 

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 myself as to wade through this valley. 

Chr. Well, and how did you answer him ? 

Faith. I told him, that although all these that he 
Faithful's answer named might claim a kindred of me, and 
to Discontent. tfjat rightly, (for indeed they were my 
relations according to the flesh,) yet since I became a 
pilgrim they have disowned me, and I also have re- 
jected them ; and therefore they were to me now no 
more than if they had never been of my lineage. I 
told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite 
misrepresented the thing ; for before honor is humili- 
ty, 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 worth our affections. 

Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley? 

Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but of all the men 

lie is assaulted that I met wiWTfo my pilgrimage, he, I 
with shame. think, bears the wrong name. The 
other would be said nay, after a little argumentation, 
and somewhat else ; but this bold-faced Shame would 
never have done. 

Chr. Why, what did he say to you ? 

Faith. What? why he objected against religion 
itself. He said it was a pitiful, low, sneaking busi- 
ness 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 the brave 
spirits of the times accustom themselves unto, would 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 95 

make him the ridicule of the times. He objected also, 
that but few of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of 
my opinion ; nor any of them neither, before they 
were persuaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary 
fondness to venture the loss of all, for nobody else 
knows what, 1 Cor. 1 : 26 ; 3 : 18; Phil. 3:7-9; 
John, ? : 48. He, moreover, objected the base and low 
estate and condition of those that were chiefly the pil- 
grims of the times in which they lived ; also their ig- 
norance and want of understanding in all natural 
science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also 
about a great many more things than here I relate ; 
as, that it was a shame to sit Whining and mourning 
under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and 
groaning home ; that it was a shame to ask my neigh- 
bor forgiveness for my petty faults, or to make resti- 
tution where I have taken from any. He said alsOj 
that religion made a man grow strange to the great, 
because of a few vices, (which he called by finer 
names,) and made him own and respect the base, be- 
cause of the same religious fraternity : and is not this, 
said he, a shame ? 

Chr. And what did you say to him 7 

Faith. Say ? 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, 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 wc 
shall not be doomed to death or life, according to the 
hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the 



1)6 DISCOURSE OP CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 

wisdom and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought 
I, what God says is best, is best, though all the men 
in the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God 
prefers his religion ; seeing God prefers a tender con- 
science 5 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 j 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? Mark 8 : 38. Should 
I now be ashamed of His ways and servants, how can 
I expect the blessing? But indeed this Shame was a 
bold villain ; I could scarcely shake him out of my 
company ; yea, he would be haunting of me, and con- 
tinually whispering me in the ear with some one or 
other of the infirmities that attend religion. But at 
last I told him 'twas but in vain to attempt 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 : 

The trials that those men do meet wiMiall, 
That are obedient to the heavenly call, 
Are manifold, and suited »j 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 brother, that thou didst with- 
stand this villain so bravely ; for of all, as thou sayest, 
1 think he has the wrong name ; for he is so bold as to 
follow us in the streets, and to attempt to put us to 
shame before all men ; 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL. 9? 

that which is good. But if he was not himself auda- 
cious, he would never attempt to do as he does. But 
let us still resist him ; for notwithstanding all his bra- 
vadoes, he promoteth the fool, and none else. " The 
wise shall inherit glory," said Solomon 3 " 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 1 5 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 sooii 
almost as I entered into that valley, a dreadful combat 
with that foul fiend Apollyon ; yea, I thought verily 
he would have killed me, especially when he got me 
down, and crushed me under him, as if he would have 
crushed me to pieces; for as he threw me, my sword 
flew out of my hand ; nay, he told me he was sure of 
me ; but 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 be- 
side them ; for in this place there was room enough 
for them all to walk. He was a tall man. and some- 
9 



98 DISCOURSE OF TALKATIVE AND FAITHFUL. 

Talkative de- thing more comely at a distance than at 
scribed. hand. To this man Faithful addressed 

himself in this manner. 

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

Talk. I am going to that same place. 

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

Talk. With a very good will, will I be your com- 
panion. 

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

Talkative enter together, and let us spend our time in 

discoursing of things that are profitable. 

Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is very 

acceptable, with you, or with any other ; and I am glad 

that I have met with those that incline to so good a 

Taikative's work ; for, to speak the truth, there are 

dislike of bad but few who care thus to spend their 

discourses. . ,, ,, , , 

time as they are in their travels, but 
choose much rather to be speaking of things to no 
profit ; and this hath been a trouble to me. 

Faith. This 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 saying is 
full of conviction ; and I will add, What thing so plea- 
sant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of 
God ? What things so pleasant ? that is, if a man hath 
any delight in things that are wonderful. For instance : 
if a man doth delight to talk of the history, or 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 ? 



DISCOURSE OF TALKATIVE AND FAITHFUL. 99 

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 Taikative's fine 
man may get knowledge of many things ; dlscourse - 
as of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of 
things above. Thus in general ; but more particularly, 
by this a man may learn the necessity of the new birth, 
the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's 
righteousness, &c. Besides, by this a man may learn 
what it is to repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the 
like : by this, also, a man may learn what are the great 
promises and consolations of the gospel, to his own 
comfort. Farther, by this a man may learn to refute 
false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to in- 
struct the ignorant. 

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

Tal k. Alas ! the want of this is the cause that so 
few understand the need of faith, and the necessity of 
a work of grace in their soul^ in order to eternal life ; 
but ignorantly live in the works of the law, by which 
a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven. 
Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of 
these is the gift of God ; no man attaiueth 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 oh brave Talk- 
from heaven ; all is of grace, not of atlve - 
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 discourse 
upon ? 



100 CHRISTIAN DESCRIBES TALKATIVE's CHARACTER. 

Talk. What you will. I will talk of things hea- 
oh brave Talk- venly, or things earthly ; things moral, 
ative! or things evangelical; things sacred, 

or things profane ; things past, or things to come, 
things foreign, or things at home ; things more essen- 
tial, or things circumstantial; provided that all be 
done to our profit. 

Faith. Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and 

Faithful beguii- stepping to Christian, (for he walked 

e,i by Talkative. all fljjg while by himself,) he said to 

him, but softy, What a brave companion have we got? 

Surely this man will make a very excellent pilgrim. 

Chr. At this Christian modestly 

Christian makes sm ji e d, and said, This man, with whom 

a discovery of ' ' ' 

Talkative, telling you are so taken, will beguile with 

Faithful who he ^ ^^ q{ ^ tweuty 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 Talkati ve : he dwelleth in our 
town. I wonder that you should be a stranger to 
him ; only I consider that our town is large. 

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

Chr. He is the son of one Say-well. He dwelt in 
Prating-Row ; and he is known to all that are ac- 
quainted with him by the name of Talkative, of Pra- 
ting-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 ac- 
quaintance with him, for he is best abroad; near home 
he is ugly enough. Your saying that he is a pretty 



CHRISTIAN DESCRIBES TALKATIVE's CHARACTER. 101 

man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the 
work of a painter, whose pictures show best at a dis- 
tance, but very near more unpleasing. 

Faith. But I am ready to think you do but jest, be- 
cause you smiled. 

Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) 
in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely. I 
will give you a further discovery of him. This man 
is for any company and for any talk ; as he talketh 
now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale- 
bench, and the more drink he hath in his crown, the 
more of these things he hath in his mouth. Religion 
hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation ; 
all he hath lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to 
make a noise therewith. 

Faith. Say you so ? Then am I in this man greatly 
deceived. 

x Chr. Deceived ! you may be sure of it. Remember 
the proverb, " They say, and do not ;"' Talkative talks, 
but the kingdom of God is not in word, b " td °es »>ot. 
but in power, Matt. 23 : 3 ; 1 Cor. 4 : 20. He talketh of 
prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth ; 
but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been 
in his family, and have observed him both at home 
and abroad ; and I know what I say of him is the 
truth. His house is as empty of reli- His house is 
gion as the white of an egg is of sa- em P l y of rel >s ion - 
vor. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of re- 
pentance for sin ; yea, the brute, in his kind, serves 
God far better than he. He is the very He is a stai D to 
stain, reproach, and shame of religion reli s ion - 
to all that know him, Rom. 2 : 24, 25 ; it can hardly 
have a good word in all that end of the town where 
he dwells, through him. Thus say the common peo- 
9* 



102 CHRISTIAN DESCRIBES 

The proverb pie that know him, " A saint abroad, 
that goes of him. and a deyil at home# » His poor family 

finds it so j he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so 

unreasonable with, his servants, that they neither 

Men shun to deal know how to do for or speak to him. 

with him. Men that haye any dea i mgs 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, de- 
fraud, beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he 
brings up his sons to follow his steps ; and if he finds 
m any of them a foolish timorousness, (for so he calls 
the first appearance of a tender conscience,) he calls 
them fools and blockheads, and by no means will em- 
ploy them in much, or speak to their commendation 
before others. For my part, I am of opinion that he 
has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and 
fall ; and will be, if God prevents not, the ruin of 
many more. 

Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe 
you, not only because you say you know him, but 
also because, like a christian, you make your reports 
of men. For I cannot think that you speak these 
things of ill-will, but because it is even so as you say. 

Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might, 
perhaps, have thought of him as at the first you did ; 
yea, had 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 oft 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 knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Be- 
sides, good men are ashamed of him ; they can neither 
call him brother nor friend ; the very naming of him 
among them makes them blush, if they know him. 



103 

Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two 
things, and hereafter I shall better observe this dis- 
tinction. 

Cur. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse 
as are the soul and the body ; for as the body without 
the soul is but a dead carcase, so saying, The carcase of 
if it be alone, is but a dead carcase also. reh £ 10n - 
The soul of religion is the practical part. " Pure reli- 
gion and undented before God and the Father, is this, 
to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, 
and to keep himself 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 fruit is indeed in the heart and 
life. And let us assure ourselves, that at the day of 
doom men shall be judged according to their fruits. 
Matt. 13 : 23. It will not be said then, Did you believe? 
but, Were you doers, or talkers only? and accordingly 
shall they be judged. The end of the' world is com- 
pared to our harvest, Matt. 13 : 30, and you know men 
at harvest regard nothing but fruit. Not that any thing 
can be accepted that is not of faith ; but I speak this to 
show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative 
will be at that day. 

Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by 
which he describeth the beast that is clean, Lev. 11. 
Deut. 14. He is such an one that parteth the hoof, and 
cheweth the cud ; not that parteth the hoof only, o ; 
that cheweth the cud only. The hare cheweth the 
cud. but yet is unclean, because he parteth not t} e 
hoof. And this truly resembleth Talka- Faithful ^. iiw ed 
tive: he cheweth the cud, he seeketh of the bao\ *s of 
knowledge ; he cheweth upon the word. 



104 DISCOURSE BETWEEN 

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

Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true 
Gospel sense of these texts. And I will add another 
Talkative like two thing : Paul calleth some men, yea, and 
things that sound those great talkers too, sounding brass, 

without life. ,'V'f,. , i \ ^ ,o i ., 

and tinkling cymbals, 1 Cor. 13 : 1, 3 ; 
that is, as he expounds them in another place, things 
without life giving sound, 1 Cor. 14 : 7. Things with- 
out life; that is, without the true faith and grace of the 
Gospel ; and, consequently, things that shall never be 
placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are 
the children of life; though their sound, by their talk, 
be as if it were the tongue or voice of an angel. 

Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company 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 ? 

Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious 
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, veil : I thought we should have 
had a great deal of talk oy this time. 

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



FAITHFUL AND TALKATIVE. 105 

Talk. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about 
the power of things. Well, it is a very Talkative , s falsa 
good question, and I shall be willing to discovery of a 

. -. , .. . work of grace. 

answer you. And take my answer in 
brief, thus. First, when the grace of God is in the 
heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Se- 
condly 

Faith. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once. I 
think you should rather say, It shows itself by inclin- 
ing the soul to abhor its sin. 

Talk. Why, what difference is there between cry- 
iig 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 
g-odly antipathy against it. I have heard To crv out again8t 
many cry out against sin in the pulpit, * in no sign of 
who yet can abide it well enough in the grace ' 
heart, house, and conversation, Gen. 39 : 15. Joseph's 
mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been 
very chaste ; but she would willingly, notwithstanding 
that, have committed uncleanness with him. Some cry 
out against sin, even as the mother cries out against 
her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and 
naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it. 

Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 

Faith. No, not I ; I am only for setting things 
right. But what is the second thing whereby you 
would prove a discovery of a work of grace in the 
heart ? 

Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries ? 

Faith. This sign should have been first; but first 
or last, it is also false ; for knowledge, Great knowledge 
great knowledge, may be obtained in no sign of grace, 
the mysteries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace 



106 DISCOURSE BETWEEN 

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?'' and the disciples had an- 
swered, yes, he addeth, " Blessed are ye if ye do them." 
He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, 
Two kinds of but in the doing of them. For there is a 
knowledge. knowledge that is not attended with 

doing : " He that knoweth his master's will, and doth 
it not." A man may know like an angel, and yet be 
no christian ; therefore your sign of it is not true. 
Indeed, to know, is a thing that pleaseth talkers and 
boasters ; but to do, is that which pleaseth God. Not 
that the heart can be good without knowledge, for 
without that the heart is naught. There are, therefore, 
two sorts of knowledge, knowledge that resteth in the 
bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is ac- 
Tme knowledge coni P anie< i with the grace of faith and 
attended with en- love, which puts a man upon doing even 
the will of God from the heart : the 
first of these will serve the talker ; but without the 
other the true christian is not content. " Give me 
understanding, and I shall keep thy law ; yea, I shall 
observe it with my whole heart," 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 grace discovereth itself where it is. 

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

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

Talk. You may use your liberty. 

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



FAITHFUL AND TALKATIVE 107 

To him that hath it, thus: It gives him convic 
tiou of sin, especially the defilement of 
his nature, and the sin of unbelief, for of gr ac g c °° Slga 
the sake of which he is sure to be 
damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand by 
faith in Jesus Christ. This sight and sense of things 
worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin, Psalm 38: 
18 5 Jer. 31 : 19 ; John, 16 : 8 ; Rom. 7 : 24; Mark, 16 : 
16 ; Gal. 2:16; Rev. 1:6. He findeth, moreover, 
revealed in him the Savior of the world, and the abso- 
lute necessity of closing with him for life ; at the 
which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; 
to which hungerings, &c. the promise is made. Now, 
according to the strength or weakness of his faith in 
his Savior, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to 
holiness, so are his desires to know him more, and 
also to serve him in this world. But though, I say, it 
discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom 
that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace ; 
because his corruptions now, 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 judgment before he can with steadiness con- 
clude 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 faith in Christ. 
2. By a life answerable to that confession ; to wit, a 
life of holiness ; heart-holiness, family-holiness, (if he 
hath a family,) and by conversation-holiness in the 
world ; which in the general teacheth him inwardly 
to abhor his sin, and himself for that, in secret ; to 
suppress it in his family, and to promote holiness in 
the world ; not by talk only, as a hypocrite or talka- 



108 DISCOURSE BETWEEN 

tive person may do, but by a practical subjection in 
faith and love to the power of the word, Job, 42 : 5, 65 
Psalm 50 : 23 5 Ezek. 20: 43; Matt. 5 : 8 5 John, 14- 
15; Rom. 10: 10; Ezek. 36: 25; Phil. 1: 27 ; 3— 17. 
And now, sir, as to this brief description of the work 
of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have 
aught to object, object ; if not, then give me leave to 
propound to you a second question. 

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

Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part 
of this description of it? And doth your life and con- 

Another good versation testify the same ? or standeth 
sign of grace. your religion iii word or tongue, 
and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you incline to 
answer me in this, say no more than you know the 
God above will say Amen to, and also nothing but 
what your conscience can justify you in; for not he 
that commendeth himself is approved, but whom the 
Lord commendeth. Besides, to say, I am thus and 
thus, when my conversation, and all my neighbors, 
tell me I lie, is great wickedness. 

Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but, recover- 
ing himself, thus he replied : You come now to expe- 
rience, to conscience, and God ; and to appeal to him 
for justification of what is spoken. This kind of dis- 

Talkative not c °UfSe I did llOt expect ; nor am I dis- 
pleased with Faith- posed to give an answer to such ques- 
question. tj onSj because I count not myself bound 
thereto, unless you take upon you to be a catechiser ; 
and though you should so do, yet I may refuse to 
make you my judge. But I pray, will you tell me 
-«yhv vou ask me such questions? 

Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and be- 
cause I knew not that you had aught else but notion. 



FAITHFUL AND TALKATIVE. 109 

Besides, to tell you the truth, I have Thereasonwhy 
heard of you that you are a man whose Faithful put to him 
religion lies in talk, and that your con- at I" 6011011, 
versation gives this your mouth profession the lie. 
They say you are a spot among Chris- Faithfu i> s plaiB 
tians, and that religion fareth the worse dealing with Taik- 

' ,, ° . . ative. 

for your ungodly conversation; that 
some already have stumbled at your wicked ways, 
and that more are in danger of being destroyed there- 
by ; your religion, and an ale-house, and covetousness, 
and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain 
company-keeping, &c. will stand together. The pro- 
verb is true of you which is said of a harlot, to wit, 
** That she is a shame to all women." So you are a 
shame to all professors. 

Talk. Since you are so ready to take up reports, 
and to judge so rashly as you do, I can- 
not but conclude you are some peevish FaithfuUdIeu. bl 
or melancholy man, not fit to be dis- 
coursed with; and so, adieu. 

Then came up Christian, and said to his brother, I 
toll you how it would happen; your words and his 
lusts could not agree. He had rather leave your com 
pany than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said: 
let him go ; the loss is no man's but his 
own ; he has saved us the trouble of go- 
ing from him ; for he continuing (as I suppose he will 
do) as he is, he would have been but a blot in our com- 
pany. Besides, the apostle says, " From such with- 
draw thyself." 

Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse 
with him ; it may happen that he will think of it again . 
however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so am 
£lear of his blood, if he perisheth. 
10 



110 EVANGELIST OVERTAKES THE PILGRIMS. 

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

How Talkative nt first lifts up his pluraes! 
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 gees ; 
And so will all but he that heart-work knows. 

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

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

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

Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the 



evangelist's exhortations. Ill 

sight of thy countenance brings to my They are glad at 
remembrance thy ancient kindness and the si s ht ofhim - 
unwearied labors for my eternal good. 

Faith. And a thousand times welcome, said good 
Faithful, thy company, O sweet Evangelist; how de- 
sirable is it to us poor pilgrims ! 

Evan. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with 
you, my friends, since the time of our last parting ? 
What have you met with, and how have you behaved 
yourselves ? 

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

Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you 
have met with trials, but that you have His exhortation 
been victors, and for that you have, t0 the,n - 
notwithstanding many weaknesses, continued in the 
way to this very day. 

I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine 
own sake and yours ; I have sowed, and you have reap- 
ed ; and the day is coining, 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 yet resisted unto 
blood, striving against sin." Let the kingdom be al 
ways before you, and believe stedfastly concerning 
things that are invisible. Let nothing that is on this 



J 12 evangelist's exhortations. 

Ride the other world get within you. And, above all, 
look well to your own hearts and to the lusts thereof; 
for they are " deceitful above all things, and desperately 
wicked." Set your faces like a flint; you have all 
power in heaven and earth on your side. 
Chr. Then Christian thanked him for his exhorta- 
rhey do thank ^ on 5 Dllt to ^ mm withall, that they 
him for bis exhor- would have him speak farther to them 

tatious. „ . . , , . „ . , 

for their help the rest of the way ; and 
the rather, for that they well knew that he was a pro 
phet, and could tell them of things that might happen 
unto them, and also how they might resist and over- 
come them. To which request Faithful also consented. 
So Evangelist began as followeth. 
Evan. My sons, you have heard in the word of the 
, truth of the gospel, that you must 

He predicteth „ , , & t ', . J 

what troubles they " through many tribulations enter into 
vSty FM? th aiS the kingdom of heaven;" and again, 
encourageth them that " in every city, bonds and afflictions 

to stedfastness. ... „ , . . 

abide you;" and therefore you cannot 
expect that you should go long on your pilgrimage 
without them, in some sort or other. You have found 
something of the truth of these testimonies upon you 
already, and more will immediately follow ; for now, 
as you see, you are almost out of this wilderness, and 
therefore you will soon come into a town that you 
will by and by see before you ; and in that town you 
will be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain 
hard but they will kill you ; and be you sure that 
one or both of you must seal the testimony which you 
hold, with blood ; but " be you faithful unto death, and 
the King will give you a crown of life." He that 
He whose lot it win shall die there, although his death will 
win have thebet-' De unnatural, and his pains, perhaps, 
ter of his brother. gre at, he will yet have the better of his 



VANITY FAIR. 113 

fellow ; not only because he will be arrived at the ce - 
lestial city soonest, but because he will escape many 
miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of 
his journey. But when you are come to the town, 
and shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then 
remember your friend, and quit 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 
town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair. It is kept 
all the year long. It beareth the name of Vanity Fair, 
because the town where it is kept is lighter than 
vanity, Psalm 62 : 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 of 
ancient standing. I will show you the The antiquity ot 
original of it. this foir - 

Almost five thousand years ago there were pilgrims 
walking to the celestial city, as these two honest per- 
sons are ; and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion, with 
their companions, perceiving by the path that the pil- 
grims made, that their way to the city lay through 
this town of Vanity, they contrived here to set i".p 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 The merchandise 
as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, ofthisfair - 
preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, plea- 
sures ; and delights of all sorts, as harlots, wives, hus- 
bands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodi<>> 
10* 



114 VANITY FAIR. 

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 : so here like- 
wise you have the proper places, rows, streets, (name- 
ly, countries and kingdoms,) where the wares of this 
fair are soonest to be found. Here is the Britain 

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

where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But 
as in other fairs some one commodity is as the chief 
of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchan- 
dise is greatly promoted in this fair ; only our English 
nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat. 

Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies 

just through 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 

Christ went himself, when here, went through this 

through this fair. ' . G 

town to his own country, and that upon 
a fair-day too ; yea, and, as I think, it was Beelzebub, 
the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his 
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 per- 
son of honor, Beelzebub had him from street to street, 
and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a 



HUBBUB AT THE PILGRIM3 IN THE FAIR. 115 

little time, that he might, if possible, allure that 
Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his vanities ; 
but he had no mind to the merchandise, 
and, therefore, left the town without aSjStiSKj** 
laying out so much as one farthing 
upon these vanities, Matt. 4 : 1 — 8 ; Luke, 4 : 5 — 8. 
This fair, therefore, is an ancient thing of long stand- 
ing, and a very great fair. 

Now these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through 
this fair. Well, so they did ; but, be- The pilgrims en- 
hold, even as they entered into the fair, tcr the fair - 
all the people in the fair were moved, and the town 
itself, as it were, in a hubbub about Thefairinahub- 
them, and that for several reasons : For, bub abouUbem - 

First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind 
of raiment as was diverse from the The first cause of 
raiment of any that traded in that fair. th e hubbub. 
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 apparel, 
so they did likewise at their speech; 
for few could understand what they onheTubbub"" 56 
said. They naturally spoke the lan- 
guage of Canaan ; but they that kept the fair were 
the men of this world. So that from one end of the 
fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the 
other, 1 Cor. 2 : 7, 8. 

Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the 
merchandisers was, that these pilgrims Third cause of 
setjvery light by all their wares. They the hubbub - 
cared not so much as to look upon them ; and if they 
called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers 



116 THE PILGRIMS PUT INTO THE CAGE. 

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. 

One chanced mockingly, beholding the carriage of 
the men, to say unto them, "What will ye buy?" 
But they, looking gravely, upon him, said, "We buy 
Fourth cause of the truth," Prov. 23 : 23. At that, there 
the hubbub. was ail occasion taken to despise the 

men the more ; some mocking, some taunting, some 
speaking reproachfully, and some call- 

They arc mocked. . r , ■ 

ing 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 exami- 
nation about whom the fair was almost overturned. 

They are ex- So the men were brought to examina- 
amined. tion ; and they that sat upon them asked 

whence they came, whither they went, and what they 
did there in such an unusual garb. The men told 

They tell who tnem tne y were pilgrims and strangers 
they are, and j n the world, and that they were going 

whence they came. ., . * . . 

to their own country, which was the 
heavenly Jerusalem, Heb. 11 : 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 journey, except it was for that, when 
one asked them what they would buy, they said they 
They are not be- would buy the truth. But they that 
,,eved - were appointed to examine them did 

not believe them to be any other than bedlams and 
mad, or else such as came to put all things into a 



THE PILGRIMS MUCH PERSECUTED. 117 

confusion in the fair. Therefore they They are put in 
took them and beat them, and besmeared the ca s e - 
them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that 
they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the 
fair. There, therefore, they lay for some time, and 
were made the objects of any man's sport, or malice, 
or revenge ; the great one of the fair laughing still at 
all that befell them. But the men being Their behavior in 
patient, and "not rendering railing for theca f e - 
railing, but contrariwise blessing," and giving good 
words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some 
men in the fair, that were more observing and less 
prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame 
the baser sort for their continual abuses done by them 
to the men. They, therefore, in angry manner let fly 
at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the 
cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates, 
and should be made partakers of their misfortunes. 
The others replied, that, for aught they could see, the 
men were quiet and sober, and intended nobody any 
harm; and that there were many that traded in their 
fair that were more worthy to be put into the cage, 
yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had 
abused. Thus, after divers words had passed on both 
sides, (the men behaving themselves all the while very 
wisely and soberly before them,) they fell to some 
blows among themselves, and did harm one to another. 
Then were these two poor men brought T hey are made 
before their examiners again, and there the ****** of this 

, , , . ., ~ ■, -, , -, disturbance. 

charged as being guilty of the late hub- 
bub that had been in the fair. So they beat them piti- 
fully, and hanged irons upon them, and They are led up 
led them in chains up and down the in chainMbJa Sr- 
fair, for an example and terror to others, ror tQ Qthers ' 



118 THE PILGRMS BROUGHT TO TWAL. 

lest any should speak in their behalf, or join them- 
selves unto them. But Christian and Faithful behaved 
themselves yet more wisely, and received the igno- 
miny and shame that was cast upon them with so 
much meekness and patience, that it won to their side 
(though but few in comparison of the 

Some men of the v ° l 

fair won over to rest) several of the men in the fair. This 

put the other party yet into a greater 

rage, insomuch that they concluded the death of these 

two men. Wherefore they threatened, that neither 

Their adversaries cage nor irons should serve their turn, 

resolve to kill them. but lhat lhey ghould die fQf the abuge 

they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair. 

Then were they remanded to the cage again, until 

„„ . , further order should be taken with them. 

They are again put 

into the cage, and So they put them in, and made them 

afterward brought fagt m the st Qcks. 

to trial. 

Here, therefore, they called again to 
mind what they had heard from their faithful friend 
Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their way 
and sufferings, by what he told them would happen to 
them. They also now comforted each other, that 
whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the best 
of it : therefore each man secretly wished that he might 
have that preferment. But committing themselves to 
the all-wise disposal of Him that ruleth all things, with 
much content they abode in the condition in which 
they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of 
Then a convenient time being appointed, they 
brought them forth to their trial, in order to their 
condemnation. When the time was come, they were 
brought before their enemies, and arraigned. The 
judge's name was Lord Hate-good; their indictment 
was one and the same in substance, though somewhat 



FAITHFUL'S TRIAL — THE WITNESSES. 119 

varying in form; the contents whereof was this: 
* " That they were enemies to, and dis- 
turbers of, the trade ; that they had made 
commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a 
party to their own most dangerous opinions, in con- 
tempt of the law of their prince." 

Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only 
set himself against that which had set Faithful answers 
itself against Him that is higher than for himself. 
the highest. And, said he, as for disturbance, I maka 
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 as to the king you talk of, 
since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy 
him and all his angels. 

Then proclamation was made, that they that had 
aught to say for their lord the king against the pri- 
soner at the bar should forthwith appear, and give in 
their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to 
wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank. They were 
then askedj if they knew the prisoner at the bar; and 
what they had to say for their lord the king against him. 

Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect : My 
lord, I have known this man a long 
time, and will attest upon oath before nvy begm8 ' 
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 regardeth prince 
nor people, law nor custom, but doeth all that he can 
to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, 
which he in the general calls principles of faith and 



120 THE WITNESSES AGAINST FAITHFUL. 

holiness. And in particular, I heard him once myself 
affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our town 
of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not 
be reconciled. By which saying, my lord) he doth at 
once not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us 
in the doing of them. 

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

Envy. My lord, I could say much more, only I 
would not be tedious to the court. Yet if need be 5 
when the other gentlemen have given in their evi- 
dence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that 
will dispatch him, I will enlarge my testimony against 
hiim So he was bid to stand by. 

Then they called Superstition, and bid him look 

Superstition foi- upon the prisoner at the bar. They 
Iows> also asked, what he could say for their 

lord the king against him. Then they sware him ; so 
he began: 

Super. My lord, I have no great acquaintance with 
this man, nor do I desire to have further knowledge of 
him. However, this I know, that he is a very pesti- 
lent fellow, from some discourse that I 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, rny 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. 



P'icK. My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I 
have known of a long time, and have pjckthank's tes- 
heard him speak things that ought not timon y- 
to be spoken ; for he hath railed on our noble prince 
Beelze bub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his 
honorable friends, whose names are, the Lord Old 
Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord sins are ail lords, 
Luxurious, the Lord Djesire of Vain aud s reat oues - 
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 possi- 
ble, there is not one of these noblemen should have 
any longer a being in this town. Besides^ he hath not 
been afraid to rail on you, my lord, who are now ap- 
pointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly vil- 
lain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with 
which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our 
town. 

When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge 
directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying^ 
Thou runagate, 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 1 

Judge. Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservest to live no 
longer, but to be slain immediately upon the place 3 
yet that all men may see our gentleness toward thee^ 
let us hear what thou hast to say. 

Faith. 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy 
hath spoken, I never said aught but Faithful's de- 
this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, feilce of Wmsdf. 
or people, were flat against the word of God, are dia- 
metrically opposite to Christianity. If I have said 
amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I ant 
ready here before you to make my recantation. 
11 



1251 * the judge's charge to the JuttY. 

/ 2> As to the second, to wit, Mr. ^ii perst ition, arid 
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 revela- 
tion of the will of God. Therefore, Avhatever.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 profitable 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 rabble- 
m en t, 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 

The judge's while stood by to hear and observe,) 
speech to the jury. Gentlemen of the jury, you see this 
man about whom so great an uproar hath been made 
in this town ; you have also heard what these worthy 
gentlemen have witnessed against him ; also you have 
heard his reply and confession : it lieth now in youl 
breasts to hang him, or save his life ; but yet I think 
meet to instruct you in our law* 

There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the 
great, servant to our prince, that, lest those of a con- 
trary religion should multiply, and grow too strong 
for him, their maies should be thrown into the 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 down 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. 



THE JURY FIND FAITHFUL GUILTY. 123 

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 j which must, 
therefore, needs be intolerable. 

For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a sup- 
position, to prevent mischief, no crime being yet ap- 
parent ; 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 confessed, he deserv- 
eth to die the death. 

Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. 
Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Lovelust, 
Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. En- 
mity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hatelight, and Mr. 
Implacable ; who every one gave in his private ver- 
dict against him among themselves, and afterward 
unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before 
the judge. And first among themselves, Mr. Blind- 
man, the foreman, said, I see clearly that 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 endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, 
for he would always be condemning my way. Hang 
him, hang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said 
Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. 
Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is 
too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch 
him out of the way, said Mr. Hate-light. Then said 
Mr. Implacable, flight I have all the They C0Hclude 
world given me, I could not be recon- t0 bri »g him iu 

.,,*,. .,' r , . „ ., . , guilty of death. 

ciled to him ; therefore let us forthwith 
bring him in guilty of death. 
And so they did ; therefore he was presently con- 



124 faithful's martyrdom. 

demned 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, 

The cruel death then they buffetted him, then they 
of Faithful. 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 multitude a 
chariot and a couple of horses waiting for Faithful, 
who (so soon as his adversaries had dispatched him) 
was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up 
through the clouds with sound of trumpet, the nearest 
way to the celestial gate. But as for Christian, he had 

Christian is still some respite, and was remanded back to 
alivc - prison ; so he there remained for a space. 

But He who overrules all things, having the power of 
Iheir rage in his own hand, so wrought it about, 
that Christian for that time escaped them, and went 
his way. 

And as he went he sang, saving, 

Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest 
Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shalt be blest, 
When fiithless 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. 

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not 
Christian has ano- t° vil1 alone; for there was one whose 
ther companion, name was Hopeful- (being so made by 
the beholding of Christian and Faithful in their words 
and behavior, in their sufferings at the fair,) who joined 



HOPEFUL JOINS CHRISTIAN. 125 

himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly cove- 
nant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus 
one died to bear testimony to the truth, and another 
rises out of his ashes to be a companion with Chris- 
tian in his pilgrimage. This Hopeful There are more 
also told Christian, that there were of the men of the 

. , . Al r . ., . fair will follow. 

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

So I saw, that quickly after they were got out of 
the fair they overtook one that was go- They overtake 
ing before them, whose name was By- B >'- euds - 
ends; so they said to him, What countryman, sir? 
and how far go you this way ? He told them, that he 
came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going 
to the celestial city; but told them not his name. 

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

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

Chr. Pray, sir, what may* I call you ? 

By. I am a stranger to you, and you to me : if you 
be going this way, I shall be glad of Ry.ends loth to 
your company; if not, I must be teil his uarae - 
content. 

Chr. This town of Fair-speech. I have heard of 
it ; 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.- 

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

By. Almost the whole town ; but in particular my 
Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord 
Fair-speech, from whose ancestors that town first took 
its name ; also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both- 
ways, Mr. Any-thing ; and the parson of our parish, 
11* 



126 DISCOURSE WITH BY-ENDS. 

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 grand- 
father was but a waterman, looking one way and row- 
ing 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 wife and kin- the daughter of a virtuous woman ; 
dred of By-ends. she wag my Lady peigning's daughter ; 
therefore she came of a very honorable family, and 
is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows 
Iiow to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant. 
ft Where By-ends ''Tis true, we somewhat differ in reli- 
differs from others crioii from those of the stricter sort, 

in religion. ° , 

yet but in two small points; lirst^we 
never strive againstwindand tide. Secondly, we are 
always mnft t. y palo us when Keligion go esjjOLhis silver 
slippers ; we love much to walk with him in the street 
if the sun shines and the people applaud himj 

Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow 
Hopeful, saying, It runs in rjy mind that this is one 
By-ends, of Fair-speech ; ?jid if it be he, we have as 
very a knave in our comp'my as dwelleth in all these 
parts. Then said Hopefil, Ask him; methinks he 
should not be ashamed of his name. So Christian 
came up with him again, and said, Sir you talk as if 
you knew something rr ore than all the world doth ; 
and, if I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half 
a guess of you. Is not your name Mr. By-Ends, of 
Fair-speech ? 

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



DISCOURSE WITH BY-ENDS. 127 

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

By. Never, never ! The worst that ever I did to 
give them occasion to give me this How By-ends got 
iame was, that I had always the luck Us " ame - 
to jump in my judgment with the present way of the 
times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get 
thereby ; but if things are thus cast upon me, let me 
count them a blessing ; but let not the malicious load 
me, therefore, with reproach. 

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

By. Well, if you will thus imagine, He desires to 
I cannot help it : you shall find me a keep company with 
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 perceive, is against your 
opinion : you must also own Religion in his rags, as 
well as when in his silver slippers ; and stand by him, 
too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh 
the streets with applause. 

By. 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 as I By-ends and they 

did before you overtook me, even go by part - 

myself, untill some overtake me that will be glad of 

my company. 



128 BY-ENDS AND THE PILGRIMS PART. 

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hope- 
ful forsook him, and kept their distance before him ; 
but one of them, looking back, saw three men follow- 
ing Mr. By-ends; and, behold, as they came up 
with him, he made them a very low congee ; and 
they also gave him a compliment. The men's names 

lie has new were, Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Mo- 
compauions. ney-love, and Mr. Save-all, men that 
Mr. By-ends had formerly been acquainted with, 
for in their minority they were schoolfellows, and 
taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a schoolmaster in Love- 
gain, which is a market-town in the county of Covet- 
ing, in the North. This schoolmaster taught them the 
art of getting, either by violence, cozenage, nattering, 
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 ? for Christian and 
Hopeful were yet within view. 

By. They are a couple of far 
JSSHSSS: countrymen, that, after their mode, are 
going on pilgrimage. 

Money. Alas ! why did not they stay, that we might 
nave 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. 



DISCOURSE OF BY-ENDS AND HIS COMPANIONS. 129 

Save. That is bad; but we read of some that are 
righteous overmuch, and such men's rigidness pre- 
vails with them to judge and condemn all but them- 
selves. But I pray, what, and how many, were the 
things wherein you differed? 

By. Why they, after their headstrong manner, con- 
clude that it is their duty to rush on their journey all 
weathers; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. 
They are for hazarding all for God at a clap ; and I 
am for taking all advantages to secure my life and 
estate. They are for holding their notions, though 
all other men 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 con- 
tempt ; but I am for him when he walks in his silver 
slippers, in the sunshine, 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 ser- 
pents. It is best to make hay while the sun shines. 
You see how the bee lieth still all 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 
security of God's good blessings unto us ; for who 
can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God 
has bestowed upon us the good things of this life, but 
that he would have us keep them for his sake? Abra- 
ham and Solomon grew rich in religion ; and Job 
says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust ; but 
he must not be such as the men before us, if they be 
t.s you have described them. 



130 DISCOURSE OF BY-ENDS AND HIS COMPANIONS. 

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 re- 
ligion that he meddled not with before ; may he not 
use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right 
honest man ? 

Money. I see the bottom of your question ; ar.d 
with these gentlemen's good leave, I will endeavor 
to shape you an answer. And first, to speak to your 
question as it concerneth a minister himself: suppose 
a minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a veiy 
small benefice, and has in his eye a greater, more iat 
and plump by far ; he has also now an opportunity of 
getting it, yet so as by being more studious, by preach- 
ing more frequently and zealously, and, because the 
temper of the people requires it, by altering of some 
of his principles ; for my part, I see no reason why a 
man may not do this, provided he has a call, ay, and 
more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. 
For why 7 

1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful, (this 



DISCOURSE OF BY-ENDS AND MIS COMPANIONS. 131 

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 im- 
prove his parts, which is according to the mind of God. 

3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of 
his people, by deserting, to serve thenij some of his 
principles, thjs argueth,(T\ That he is of a self-deny- 
ing temper. ^2/ Of a sweet and winning deportment. 
Andj'3J_So more fit for the ministerial function, 

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

And now to the second part of the question, which 
concerns the tradesman you mentioned. Suppose 
such an one to have but a poor employ in the world, 
but by becoming religious, he may mend his market, 
perhaps get a rich wife, or more and far better custo- 
mers to his shop ; for my part, I see no reason but this 
may be lawfully done. For why ? 

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

2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more cus- 
tom 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 j so then here is a 
good wife, and good customers, and good gain, and 
all these by becoming religious, which is good ; 



i32 DISCOURSE Of 1 BY-ENDS AND Ht3 COMPANIONS. 

therefore, to become religious to get all these is a good 
and profitable design. 

This answer thus made by Mr. Money4ove to Mr= 
By-ends' question was highly applauded by them all ; 
Wherefore they concluded upon the whole, that it was 
most wholesome and advantageous. And because, as 
they thought, no man was able to contradict it, and 
because Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, 
they jointly agreed to assault them with the question 
as soon as they overtook them ; and the rather, be- 
cause they had opposed Mr. By-ends before. So they 
called after them, and they stopped and stood still 
till they came up to them ; but they concluded as they 
went, that not Mr. By-ends, but old Mr. Hold-the- 
World, should propound the question to them, because, 
as they supposed, their answer to him would be with- 
out the remainder of that heat that was kindled betwixt 
Mr. By-ends and them at their parting a little beforea 

So they came up to each other, and after a short 
salutation, Mr. Hold-the- World propounded the ques- 
tion to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to aii- 
s\verjt_if they could. 

V^TI^li2 said~Ch r i s^t i aii^> Even a babe in religion may 
answer ten thousand such questions. For if it be un- 
lawful to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, John, 6 : 26 ; 
now much more abominable is it to make of him and 
religion a stalking-horse to get and enjoy the world \ 
Nor do we find arty other than heathens, hypocrites, 
devils, and wizards, that are of this opinion. 
(~\ Heathens : for when Hamor and Shechem had 
a mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw 
that there was no way for them to come at them but 
by becoming circumcised, they said to their compan- 
ions, If every male of us be circumcised, as they are 



CHRISTIAN'S ANSWEtl TO MR. HOLD-THE-WORLD. lo3 

Circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, 
and every beast of theirs be ours ? Their daughters 
and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, 
and their religion the stalking-horse they made use 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 
get widows' houses was their intent, and greater dam- 
nation was from God their judgment, Luke, 20 : 40, 47. 

3. Judas the devil was also of this religion: he wad 
religious for the bag, that he might be possessed 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. 

5. 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, affirmatively, 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 answer ; so 
there was a great silence among them. Mr. By-ends 
and his company also staggered, and kept behind, that 
Christian and Hopeful might outgo them. Then said 
Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand 
before the sentence of men, what will they do with 
12 



134 THE PLAIN OF EASE. LUCltE-HtLL* 

the sentence of God? And if they are mute when" 
dealt with by vessels of clay, what will they do when 
thev shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring 
lire ? 
Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, 
r „. M ; and went till they came at a delicate 

The ease that /"^\ 

pilgrims have is but plain, called (Ease) where they went 

little in (his life, .,, t V. **/ \ . .i , ■> ■ 

with much content ; but that plain was 
but narrowj 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 
Lucre-hiil, a dan- near the brim of the pit, the ground, 
serous hiii. being deceitful under them, broke, and 

they were slain : some also had been maimed there, 
and could not, to their dying day, be their own men 
again. 

Demas at the hill Then I saw in my dream, that a little 
Lucr0 - off the road, over against the silver 

mine, stood Demas (gentleman-like) to call to passen- 

He calls toCl.ris- S erS t0 COme aild See > wll ° Said to 

Han and Hopeful Christian and his fellow, Ho ! turn aside 

to come to him. , .,, , T .,. , ,, . 

hither, and I will show you a thing. 

Chu. What thing so deserving as to turn us out 
of the way ? 

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. 

Hopeful tempted H ° PE ' Thei1 Said Hopeful, Let U8 

to go, hut Chris- go See. 

1m Q nR . Not I, said Christian; I have 

heard of this place before now, and how many have 
there been slain ; and, besides, thaTtrfeasure js a snare 



DEM AS INVITES THE PILGRIMS TO TURN ASIDE. 135 

to those that seek it, for it hindereth them in their 
pilgrimage. 

Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the 
place dangerous ? Hath it not hindered many in their 
pilgrimage ? Hosea, 4 : 16—19. 

Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that 
are careless ; but withal, he blushed as he spake. 

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

Hope. 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. 

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

Chr. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, De- 
mas, thou art an enemy to the right ways of the Lord of 
this way, and hast been already condemned for thine 
own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges, 2 
Tim. 4:10; and why seekest thou to bring us into the 
like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, 
our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and 
will there put us to shame, where we would stand 
with boldness before him. 

Demas cried again, that he also was one of their 
fraternity ; and that if they would tarry a little he 
also himself would walk with them. 

Chr. Then said Christian, What is thy name ? Is it 
not the same by the 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 grand- 
father, and Judas your father, and you have trod in 



136 BY-END GOES OVER TO DEMAS. 

their steps; it is but a devilish prank that thou usest, 
thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deserv- 
est 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 beha- 
vior. Thus they went their way. 

By this time By-ends and his companions were 
Py-ends goes over come again within sight, and they at 

toDemas. the ^ j^j. W(mt oye]p tQ 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 sang Christian : 



i 



By-ends and silver Denial both agree ; 
One calls, the other runs, that he may be 
A sharer in his lucre : so these two 
Take up in this world, and no farther go. 



Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, 
They see a strange the pilgrims came to a place where 
monument. stood an old monument hard by the 

highway-side, at the sight of which they were both 
concerned, because of the strangeness of the form 
thereof; for it seemed to them as if it had been a 
woman transformed into the shape of a pillar. Here, 
therefore, they stood looking and looking upon it, but 
could not for a time tell what they should make there- 
of. At last Hopeful espied, written above upon the 
head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand ; but he 
being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was 
learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning : so 
he came, and after a little laying of letters together, he 
found the same to be this, "Remember Lot's wife," 



THE PILLAR INSCRIBED, " REMEMBER LOT'S WIFE. 137 

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 her looking back with a 
covetous heart when she was going from Sodom, 
Gen. 19 : 26. Which sudden and amazing sight gave 
them occasion of this discourse. 

Chr. Ah, my brother ! this is a seasonable sight, it 
came opportunely to us after the invitation which 
Demas gave us to come over to view the 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 ourselves a spectacle for those that 
shall come after, to behold. 

Hope. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and made to 
wonder that I am nut 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 ; and let me be ashamed that ever 
such a thing should be in mine heart. 

Chr. Let us take notice of what we see here, for 
our help for time to come. This woman escaped one 
judgment, for she fell not by the destruction of So- 
dom ; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see ; 
she is turned into a pillar of salt. 

Hope. True, and she may be to us both caution and 
example ; caution, that we should shun her sin, or a 
sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not 
be prevented by this caution; so Korah, Dathan, and 
Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men that pe- 
rished in their sin, did also become a sign or example 
to others to beware, Numb. 16 : 31, 32 ; 26 : 9, 10. But 
above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and 
his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for 
that treasure, which this woman but for looking behind 
12* 



138 DISCOURSE AEOUT LOT'S WIFE. 

her after (for we read not that she stepped one foot 
out of the way) was turned into a pillar of salt ; espe- 
cially since the judgment which overtook her did but 
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 presence of the judge, or 
that will cut purses under the gallows. It is said of the 
men of Sodom, that they were sinners exceedingly, 
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. And it is most rationally 
to be concluded, that such, even such as these are 
that shall sin in the sight, yea, and that too in despite 
of such examples that are set continually before them 
to caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of 
severest judgments. 

( Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth ; but what 
a mercy is it that neither thou, but especially I, am not 
made myself this example ! This ministereth occasion 
to us to thank God, to fear before him, and always to 
remember Lot's wife. 

I saw then that they went on their way to a plea 

sant river, which David the king called 

" the river of God ;" but John, " the river 

of the water of life," Psalm 65 : 9; Rev. 22 : 1 ; Ezek. 

47 ; 1—9. Now their way lay just upon the bank of 



THE RIVER OF LIFE. — THE PLEASANT MEADOW. 139 

this river : here, therefore, Christian and his companion 
walked with great delight ; they drank also of the wa- 
ter of the river, which was pleasant and enlivening to 
their weary spirits. Besides, on the 

. . -.,. . ... ., Trees by the river. 

banks of this river, on either side, were 
green trees with all manner of fruit ; and the leaves 
they ate to prevent surfeits, and other The fruit and 
diseases that are incident to those that lea *esofthe trees, 
heat their blood by travel. On either side of the river 
was also a meadow, curiously beautified with lilies ; 
and it was green all the year long. In A meadow in 
this meadow they lay down and slept, which they lie 
for here they might lie down safely, 
Psalm 23 : 2 ; Isa. 14 : 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. 

BehoiQ 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; ard he who can tell 

What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, 

Will soon sell all, that he raav buy this field. 

So when tney were disposed to go on, (for they 
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 jour- 
neyed far, but the river and the way for a time parted, 
at which they were not a little sorry ; yet they durst 
not go out of the way. Now the way from the river 
was rough, and their feet tender by reason of their 
travels ; so the souls of the pilgrims were much dis- 
couraged because of the way, Numb. 21 : 4. Wher*. : 



140 THE PILGRIMS GO INTO BY-PATH MEADOW. 

ad f ° re Sti11 aS they Weilt 0a ' lhey WisM 

y-pa mea ow. ^ ^ better way. Now a little before 
them, there was on the left hand of the road a meadow 
and a stile to go over into it, and that 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. 

One temptation aild beh ° ld a P ath ^ al0D g h V the ^ 

makes way for ano- on the other side of the fence. It is ac- 
cording to my wish, said Christian ; 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, doth 
strong christians it not go along by the way-side ? So 
S ouf of We the Ho P eful > Dein & persuaded by his fellow, 
way. went after him over the stile. When 

they were gone over, and were got into the path, they 
found it very easy for their feet; and withall, they, 
looking before them, espied a man walking as they 
did, and his name was Vain Confidence : so they called 

seewhatitistoo afterhim > and asked him whither that 
suddenly to fail in way led. He said, To the celestial gate, 
wi s rangers. l 00 ]^ said Christian, did not I tell you 
so ? by this you may see we are right. So they fol- 
lowed, and he went before them. But behold the night 
came on, and it grew very dark ; so that they that 
were behind lost the sight of him that went before. 
He therefore that went before, (Vain -Confidence by 

a pit to catch the name,) not seeing the way before him, 
»»in- g iorious in. f e u j nt0 a <j ee p p j tj w hich was on pur- 
pose there made, by the prince of those grounds, to 
catch vain-glorious fools withall, and was dashed in 
pieces with his fall, Isaiah, 9 : 16. 



THE SAD SITUATION OF THE PILGRIMS. 141 

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 Hope- 
ful, Where are we now ? Then was his fellow silent, 
as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way ; 
and now it began to rain, and thunder and lighten in a 
most dreadful manner, and the water rose amain. 

Then HoDeful groaned in himself, Reasoning i»e- 

r«. A /r iT j 1 i. i tvveea Christian 

saying, Oa that I had kept on my way ! aja dHopefui. 

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

Hope. I was afraid on't at the very first, and there- 
fore gave you that gentle caution. I would have 
spoke plainer, but that you are older than I. 

Chr. Good brother, be not offended ; I _, . . , 

_ , * ' Christian's re- 

am sorry I have brought thee out of the peotance for lead- 
way, and that I have put thee into such !?£■ gg" out 
imminent danger. Pray, my brother, 
forgive me ; I did not do it of an evil 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 brother ; 
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, because by my 
means we are both g one out of t} \e 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 be 
toward the highway, even the way that thou wentest ; 
turn again," Jer. 31 : 21. But by this _. . . 

° ' J I hey are in dan- 

time the waters were greatly risen, by per of drowning a* 
reason of which the way of going back tliey s ° back ' 



142 GIANT DESPAIR CONFINES THEM. 

was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier 
going out of the way when we are in 3 than going in 
when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back ; 
but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in 
their going back they had like to have drowned nine 
or ten times. 

Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get 
again to the stile that night. Wherefore at last, light- 

They sleep in m => im( ^ er a l^ e shelter, they sat down 
the ground£o£^i- there until the day brake ; but, being 
' weary, they fell asleep. Now there 
was, not far from the place they lay, a castle, called 
Doubting-Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Des- 
pair, and it was in his grounds they now were sleep- 
ing : wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, 
aad walking up and down in his fields, caught Chris- 
tian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then with 
a grim and surly voice he bid them awake, and asked 
them whence they were, and what they did in his 
grounds. They told him they were pilgrims, and 
that they had lost their way. Then said the giant, 
You have this night trespassed on me 
hi";'o n undt en iu>y trampling in and lying on my 
carries them to grounds, and therefore you must go 

Doubting-castle. B ' , J ° 

along with me. So they were forced to 
go, because he was stronger than they. They also 
had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a 
fault. The giant, therefore, drove them before him T 
and put them into his castle, into a very dark dungeon, 
The grievousness nasty, and stinking to the spirits of these 
of their imprison- tw0 men Here, then, they lay from 

ment. ' ' „ • , 

Wednesday morning till Saturday 
night, without one bit of bread or drop of drink, or 
light, or any to ask how they did : they were, there* 



CtANT DESPAIR^ DREADFUL TREATMENT. 143 

fore, here in evil case, and were far from friends and 
acquaintance, Psalm 88 : 18. Now in this place Chris- 
tian 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 hr>d taken a 
couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon 
for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her 
also what he had best to do further with 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 grievous crabtree cudgel, and 
goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first 
falls to rateing of them as if they were dogs, although 
they never gave him a word of distaste. Then he 
falls upon them, and beats them fear- „ _ , _. 

T , ' On Thursday Gi- 

fully, 111 SUCh SOrt that they Were not ant Despair beats 

able to help themselves, or to turn them his P risoaer£ - 
upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves 
them there to condole their misery, and to mourn 
under their distress ; so all that day they spent their 
time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. 
The next night she, talking with her husband further 
about them, and understanding that they were yet 
alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away 
with themselves. So when morning on Friday Giant 
was come, he goes to them in a surly SjjJJJ"^ kinthem- 
manner, as before, and perceiving them selves. 
to be very sore with the stripes that he had given 
<them the day before, he told them, that since they 



144 THE PILGRIMS DISCOURSE IN THE DUKGtCtt. 

were never like to come out of that place, their only 
way would be forthwith to make an end of them- 
selves, either with knife, halter, or poison : for why,- 
said he, should you choose to live, seeing it is attended 
with so much bitterness '? But they desired him to let 
them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and 
rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them 
himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, (for he 

The giant some- sometimes in sunshiny weather fell 
times has fits. } n t 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 pri- 
soners consult between themselves, whether it was 
best to take his counsel or no ; and thus they began 
to discourse : 

Chr. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? 

The life that we now live is miserable. For my pari, 

I know not whether is best to live thus, or to die out 

of hand. My soul chooseth strangling 

Christian crushed. - . ,.- , ,; 

rather than life, and the grave is more 
easy for me than this dungeon, Job, 7 : 15. Shall we 
be ruled by the giant ? 

Hope. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and 
death would be far more welcome to me than thus for 
ever to abide ; but yet let us consider, the Lord of the 
country to which we are going 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 
out commit murder upon his body ; but for one to kill 
himself, is to kill body and soul at once. And, more- 
over, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave ; 
Hopeful com- Dut nast thou forgotten the hell whi- 
ffs him. tner f or cer t a in the murderers go ? for 



THE PILGRIMS DISCOURSE IN THE DUXGEON. 145 

" no murderer hath eternal life," &c. And let us con- 
sider again, that all the laAV 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 
'.hat at some time or other he may forget to lock us in ; 
or but hi may, in a short time, have another of his fits 
lefore us, and he may lose the use of his limbs ? And 
i f ever that should come to pass again, for my part, I 
am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to 
Iry ?ny utmost to get from under his hand. I was a 
lbo\ that I did not try to do it before. But, however, 
rny brother, let us be patient, and endure awhile ; the 
time may come that may give us a happy release ; but 
let us not be our own murderers. With these words 
Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his bro- 
ther ; so they continued together in the dark that day, 
in their sad and doleful condition. 

Well, toward evening the giant g^es down into the 
dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his 
counsel. But when he came there he found them 
alive ; and truly, alive was all ; for now, what for 
want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds 
they received when he beat them, they could do little 
but breathe. But I say, he found them alive ; at 
which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that 
seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be 
worse with them than if they had never been born. 

At this they trembled greatly, and I think that 

Christian fell into a 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 

13 



146 COUNSEL OF DIFFIDENCE, THE GIANt's WIFE. 

or no. Now Christian again seemed for doing it j but 
Hopeful made his second reply as followeth . 
Hope. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not 
how valiant thou hast been heretofore ? 

Hopeful comforts . ,, , , . , 

him again by call- Apollyon could not crush thee, nor 

io g remS r rance gS COUld a11 tnat tll0U didst hear ' 0I 5ee ' 0r 

feel, in the Vall ey of the Shadow of 
Death. What hardship, terror, and amazement hast 
thou already gone through ! and art thou now no- 
thing but fears ! Thou seest that I am in the dungeon 
with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art. 
Also this giant hath wounded me as well as thee, and 
also cut off' the bread and water from my mouth, and 
with thee I mourn without the light. But let us exer- 
cise a little more patience. Remember how thou 
playedst the man at Vanity-Fair, and wast neither 
afraid of the chain nor cage, nor yet of bloody death : 
wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame that it 
becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with 
patience as well as we can. 

Now night being come again, and the giant and his 
wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the 
prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel ; to which 
he replied, They are sturdy rogues j they choose 
rather to bear all hardships than to make away with 
themselves. Then said she, Take them into the castle- 
yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls 
of those that thou hast already dispatched, and make 
them 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, 



THE KEY OF PROMISE FOUND. 147 

said he, were pilgrims, as you are, once, 0n Salurday the 
and they trespassed on my grounds as giant threatened 

, -i t i ■»■ *i_ I,* that shortly he 

you have done ; and when I thought wou id pull them 
fit I tore them in pieces, and so within in P ieces * 
ten days I will do you; go, get you down to your den 
again. And with that he beat them all the way thi- 
ther. They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday l:v 
lamentable case, as before. Now when night was 
come, and when Mrs. Diffidence and her husband, the 
giant, were got to bed, they began to renew their dis- 
course of their prisoners ; and withal the old giant 
wondered, that he could neither by his blows nor 
counsel bring them to an end. And with that his 
wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hopes 
that some will come to relieve them ; or that they 
have picklocks about them, by the means of which 
they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear ? 
said the giant ; I will therefore search them in the 
morning. 

Well, on Saturday, about midnight, they began to 
pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day. 

Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as 
one half amazed, brake out into this passionate 
speech ; What a fool, quoth he, am I, to lie in a stink- 
ing dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty ! I 
have a key in my bosom, called Pro- A key in Chri ,_ 
raise, that will, I am persuaded, open £ an ' s bosorn calIed 

' ' * i sr Promise, opens any 

any lock in Doubting-castle. Then lock in Doubting- 
said Hopeful, That's good news ; good ca3tle * 
brother, pluck it out of thy bosom, and try. 

Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and be- 
gan to try at the dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he 
turned the key, gave back, and the door flew open with 
ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then 



148 THEY ESCAPE FROM DOUBTING-CASTLE. 

lie 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 
the : .r 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 highway again, and so 
were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction. 

Now when they were gone over the stile, they be- 
gan to contrive with themselves what they should do 
at that stile, to prevent those that shall come after 
from falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they 
consented to erect there a pillar, and to 

A pillar erected •_ . , .. . ,, . 

by Christian and engrave Upon the Side thereof tills sen- 
ilis fellow, tencej "Over this stile is the way to 
Doubting-castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who 
despiseth the King of the celestial country, and seeks 
to destroy his holy pilgrims." Many, therefore, that 
followed after, read what was written, and escaped the 
danger. This done, they sang as follows : 

Out of the way we went, and then we fouml 

What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground : 

And let them that come after have a care, 

Lest they for trespassing his pris'ners are, 

Whose castle's Doubting, and whose name's- Despair. 

They then went till they came to the Delectable 
The Delectable Mountains, which mountains belong to 

Mountains. the Lord of that jjjjj of which we haye 

spoken before. So they went up to the mountains, 
to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards 



THE DELECTAELE MOUNTAINS. 149 

and fountains of water; where also Theyarerefreshetl 
they drank and washed themselves, in the mountains, 
and did freely eat of the vineyards. Now there were 
t>n the tops of these mountains shepherds feeding 
their flocks, and they stood by the highway-side. The 
pilgrims, therefore, went to them, and leaning upon 
their staffs, {as is common with weary pilgrims when 
they stand to talk with any by the Talk with the 
way,) they asked, Whose delectable ***■#■ 
mountains are these, and whose be the sheep that 
feed upon them ? 

Shep. 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. 

Chr. Is this the way to the celestial city ? 

Shep. You are just in your way. 

Chr. How far is it thither ? 

Shep. Too far for any but those who shall get thi- 
ther indeed. 

Chr. Is the way safe, or dangerous ? 

Shep. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; but 
transgressors shall fall therein, Hos. 14 : 9. 

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

Shep. The Lord of these mountains hath given 
its a charge 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 Sheph erds 
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 
13* 



150 THE MOUNTAIN OF ERROR. 

The Shepherds come hither, do show their face on these 
welcome them. mountains. But when the Shepherds 
heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they 
looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome 
to the Delectable Mountains. 

The Shepherds, I say; whose names were Know- 
The names of the ledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sin- 

Shepherds. cerG) tQok t j iem by the hand) and ha( j 

them to their tents, and made them partake of what 
was ready at present. They said, moreover, We would 
that you should stay here a while, to be acquainted 
with us, and yet more to solace yourselves with the 
good of these Delectable Mountains. They then told 
them that they were content to stay. So they went to 
rest that night, because it was very late. 

Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the 
Shepherds called up Christian and Hopeful to walk 
with them upon the mountains. So they went forth 
with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant 
prospect on every side. Then said the Shepherds one 
They are shown to another, Shall we show these pil- 
wonders. grims some wonders? So when they 

had concluded to do it, they had them first to the top 
/^Themountainor^of a hill, called Error, which was very 
steep on the farthest side, and bid them 
look down to 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 ? The 
Shepherds answered, Have you not heard_of_them 
that were made to err, by hearkening to (Hymena?us 
and Philetus, as concerning the faith of tile resurrec- 
tion of the body? 2 Tim. 2 : 17, 18. They answered, 
Yes. Then said the Shepherds, Those that you see 



MOUNT CAUTION. 151 

dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are 
they ; and they have continued to this day unburied, as 
you see, for an example to others to take heed how 
they clamber too high, or how they come too near the 
brink of this mountain. 

Then I saw that they had them to the top of another 
mountain, and the name of that is Cau- __ „ 

71 ■ . , , ~ , . , Mount Cautiou. 

Hon, and bid them look afar off; which, 
when they did, they perceived, as they thought, seve- 
ral men walking up and down among the tombs that 
were there; and they perceived that the men were 
blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the 
tombs, and because they could not get out from among 
them. Then said Christian, What means this? 

The Shepherds then answered. Did you not see a 
little below these mountains a stile that led into a 
meadow, on the left hand of this way ? They answer • 
ed, Yes. Then said the Shepherds, From that stile 
there goes a path that leads directly to Doubting-castle, 
which is kept by Giant Despair ; and these men (point- 
ing to them among the tombs) came once on pilgrim- 
age, as you do now, even until they came to that same 
stile. And because the right way was rough in that 
place, they chose to go out of it into that meadow, and 
there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into 
Doubting-castle, where, after they had awhile been 
kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, 
and led them among those tombs, where he has left 
them to wander to this very day, that the saying of 
the wise man might be fulfilled, " He that wandereth 
out of the way of understanding shall remain in the 
congregation of the dead," Prov. 21 : 36. Then Chris- 
tian and Hopeful looked one upon another, with tears 
gushing out, but yet said nothing to the Shepherds. 



152 A BY-WAY TO HELL. 

Then I saw in my dream, that the Shepherds had 
them to another place in a bottom, where was a door 
on the side of a hill ; and they opened the door, and 
bid them look in. They looked in, therefore, and saw 
that within it was very dark and smoky; they also 
thought that they heard there a rumbling noise, as of 
fire, and a cry of some tormented, and that they smelt 
the scent of brimstone. Then said Christian, What 
means this ? The Shepherds told them^This is a by- 
s-r ^n„ way to hell, a way that ^iypoc)ites go in 

A by-way to hell. J ' J J-t— >* © 

— -—~^/ at ; namely, such as sell their birthright, 
with Es au ; such as sell their Master, with Judas ; such 
as blaspheme the Gospel, with Alexander ; and that lie 
and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira his w r ife. 

Then said Hopeful to the Shepherds, I perceive that 
these had on them, even every one, a show of pil- 
grimage, as we have now; had they not? 

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

Hope. How far might they go on in pilgrimage in 
their day, since they, notwithstanding, were thus mi- 
serably cast away ? 

Shep. Some farther, and some not so far as these 
mountains. 

Then said the pilgrims one to another, We have 
need to cry to the Strong for strength. 

Shep. Ay, and }'ou 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 mountains. 
Then said the Shepherds one to another, Let us here 

The Shepherds* show the pilgrims the gate of the Celes- 
per S pectiv e -gia 8S . tial city, if they have skill to look 
through our perspective-glass. The pilgrims then lov- 



THE PILGRIMS PART FROM THE SHEPHERDS. 153 

ngly 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 had Tfco fruits of ser- 
shown them made their hands shake, Vlle lear - 
by means of which impediment they could not look 
steadily through the glass ; yet they thought they saw 
something like the gate, and also some of the glory of 
the place. Thus they went away and sang : 

Thus by the Shepherds secrets are rcveal'd, 
Which from all other men are kept couceal'd : 
Come to the Shepherds then, if you would seo 
Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be. 

When they were about to depart, one of the Shep- 
herds gave them a note of the way. a two-fold cau- 
Another of them bid them beware of tlon - 
the Flatterer. The third bid them take heed that they 
sleep not upon the Enchanted Ground. And the fourth 
bid them God speed. So I awoke from my dream. 

And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same 
two pilgrims going down the mountains along the 
highway toward the city. Now a little below these 
mountains, on the left hand, lietli the The country of 
country of Conceit; from which conn- wSSnieignu- 
try there comes into the way in which ru,lce - 
the pilgrims walked, a little crooked lane. Here, there- 
fore, they met with a very brisk lad that came out of 
that country, and his name was Ignorance. So Chris- 
tian asked him from what parts he ■ . 

, . .,. i . Christian and Jg- 

came, and whither he was going. norance have some 

Ignor. Sir, I was born in the country tillk ' 



151 IGNORANCE, FROiM THE COUNTRY OF CONCEIT. 

that lieth off there, a little on the left hand, and I am 
going~ToTTie 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. 

Ignor. I know my Lord's will, and have been a good 
The grounds of ig- liver; I pay every man his own; I pray, 
uorauoe's hope. f astj p ay t^hes, and give alms, and have 
left my country for whither I am going. 

Chr. But thou earnest not in at the wicket-gate that 
is at the head of this way; thou earnest in hither 
through that same crooked lane, and therefore I fear, 
however thou mayest think of thyself, when the reck- 
oning-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 ; I 

He tciieth every know you not : be content to follow the 
oue he is but a fool, religion of your country, and I will fol- 
low the religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And 
as for the gate that you talk of, all the world knows 
that that is a great way off of our country. I cannot 
think that any man in all our parts doth so much as 
know the way to it ; nor need they matter whether 
they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine, plea- 
sant, 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," Pro v. 26 : 12. 
And said, moreover, " When he that is a fool walketh 
by the way, hi§ wisdom faileth him, and he saith to 



Turn-away's destruction. 155 

every one, that he is a fool," Eccles. 10 : 3. What, shall 
we talk farther with him, or outgo him How to carry it 
at present, and so leave him to think of t0 a foGl - 
what he hath heard already, and then stop again for 
him afterward, and see if by degrees we can do an> 
good bv him ? Then said Hopeful, 

Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
On what is said, and let him not refuse 
Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain 
J^ till 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 farther added, It is not good, I think, to 
say to him all at once ; let us pass him by, if you will, 
and talk to him anon, even as he is able to bear it. 

So they both went on, and Ignorance lie 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 back to the door that they 
ww on the side of the hill, Matt. 12: 45. Prov. 5: 22. 
Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did 
Hopeful, his companion; yet, as the devils led away 
the man, Christian looked to see if he knew him ; 
and he thought it might be one Turn-away, that dwelt 
in the town of Apostacy. But he did not The destruction 
perfectly see his face, for he did hang of one Turn-away, 
his head like a thief that is found ; but being gone 
past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his 
back a paper, with this inscription, " Wanton profes- 
sor, and damnable apostate." 

Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to my 
remembrance that which was told me christian teiieth 
of a thing that happened to a good ^v^T'luiIo* 
man hereabout. The name of that Faith. 



136 LIT'fLE-FAITH ROBBED AND ILL-TREATED. 

man was Little-Fa ith ; 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 

Broa<iway-gate. Broadway-gate, a lane, called Dead- 
DeacMian's lane. man > s _laue . 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 hap- 
pened at that time to come down the lane from Broad- 
way gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were 
Faint-Heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, three brothers ; and 
they espying Little-Faith, where he was, came gallop- 
ing up with speed. Now the good man was just 
awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on 
his journey. So they came up all to him, and with 
threatening language bid him stand. At this, Little- 
Faith looked as white as a sheet, and had neither 

Litt^Faithrob- power to fight or fly. Then said Faint- 
bed by Faint-heart, Heart, Deliver thy purse ; but he making 

Mistrust, and Guilt. ; , . . . . • - , 

no haste to do it, (for he was loth to 
lose his money,) Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting 

They get away llis liaild illt0 h * 3 P 0cket > P ulled 0llt 

iiis silver, and thence a bag of silver. Then he cried 
knock him dowu. ^ TWeveSj Sieves ! With that Guilt, 
with a great club that was in his hand, struck Little- 
Faith on the head, and with that blow felled him flat 
to the ground, where he lay bleeding as one that 
would bleed to death. All this while the thieves 
stood by. But at last, they hearing that some were 
upon the road, and fearing lest it should be one Great- 
Grace that dwells in the city of Good-Confidence, 
they betook themselves to their heels, and left this 
good man to shift for himself. Now, after a while, 
Little-Faith came to himself, and getting up, made 



little-faith's troubles. 157 

shift to scramble on his way. This was the story. 

Hope. Cut did they take from him all that he ever 
had? 

Chr. No ; the place where his jewels were they 
never ransacked ; so those he kept still. Little-Faith lost 
But, as I was told, the good man was not hls best thin s s - 
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. 
INay, (if I was not misinformed,) he was LitUe . Faith forcc(i 
forced to beg as he went, to keep him- to beg to his jour 
self alive, for his jewels he might not ney ' send * 
sell ; but beg and do what he could, he went (as we 
say) with many a hungry belly the most part of the 
rest of the way, 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 admit- 
tance at the Celestial Gate ? 

Chr. It is a wonder ; but they got not that, though 
they missed it not through any good Re kept ^ his 
cunning of his j for he being dismayed best things by hia 
by their coming upon him, had neither own cumun& - 
power nor skill to hide any thing: so it was more by 
good providence than by his endeavor that they missed 
of that good thing, 2 Tim. 1 : 12—14 ; 1 Pet. 1 : 5—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. Indeed he forgot it a great 
part of the rest of his journey; and besides, when at 
14 



158 DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 

any time it came into his mind, and he began to be 
comforted therewith, then would fresh thoughts of his 
loss come again upon him, and these thoughts would 
swallow up all. 

He is pitied by Hope. Alas, poor man, this could not 
b » VA ' but be a great grief unto him. 

Cur. 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? It is a w r onder he did not die with grief, 
poor heart. I was told that he scattered almost all the 
rest of the way with nothing but doleful and bitter 
complaints; telling also to all that 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; 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 pawning some of his jewels, that 
lie might have wherewith to relieve himself in his 
journey. 

Cur. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the 
christian reprov- shell to this very day. For what should 

et!i his fellow lor j )e paw]1 lhem <? or to w hom sllOllld lie 
Unadvisedly speak- » 

in-. sell them? In all that country where he 

was robbed, his jewels were not accounted of; nor did 
he want that relief which could from thence be admi- 
nistered to him. Besides, had his jewels been missing 
at the gate of the Celestial City, he had (and that he 
knew well enough) been excluded from an 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, 



DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 159 

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 doing exclude Adiscourse about 
themselves from the chief blessing, as Esau and Liuie 
also that caitiff did ; but you must put a 
difference betwixt Esau and Little-Faith, and also be- 
twixt their estates. Esau's birthright was typical ; but 
Little-Faith's jewels were not so. Esau's Esau was ruled by 
belly was his god ; but Little-Faith's his lusts - 
belly was not so. Esau's want lay in his fleshly ap- 
petite ; 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 lit- Esau never had 

tie ; therefore no marvel, where the flesh faith - 
only bears sway, (as it will in that man where no faith 
is to resist,) if he sells his birthright, 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: but 
Little-Faith was of another temper ; his T . , 

. , , . ,. . ,.,.,. Little-Faith could 

mind was on things divine; his liveli- notiiveuponEsau's 
hood was upon things that were spiri- P° tta s e - 
tual, and from above ; therefore to what end should lie 
that is of such a temper sell his jewels, (had there been 
any that would have bought them,) to fill his mind 
with empty things ? Will a man give a penny to fill 



160 DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 

. his belly with hay? or can you per- 

A comparison be- ~ * J r 

tween the turtle- suade the turtle-dove to live upon car- 

dove and the crow. ^ y ±Q ^ ^^j Though f aith l ess 

ones can, for carnal 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 reflec- 
tion had almost made me angry. 

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

Hope. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am per- 
suaded in my heart, are but a company 

Hopeful swaggers. r •* 

of cowards : would they have run else, 
think you, as they did at the noise of one that was 
coming on the road? Why did not Little-Faith pluck 
up a greater heart? He might, methinks, have stood 
one brush with them, and have yielded when there 
had been no remedy. 

Chr. That they are cowards, many have said, but 

No great heart for feW haVe f ° Und [t S0 in the time ° f trial - 

God where there is As for a great heart, Little-Faith had 

but little faith. , T . , „ 

none ; and I perceive by thee, my bro- 
ther, hadst thou been the man concerned, thou art but 
for a brush, and then to yield. And, verily, since this 
We have more is the height of thy stomach now they 

^ r ou g t?thi e ihS arG at a distance from us, should they 
we are in. appear to thee, as they did to him, they 

might put thee to second thoughts. 
But consider again, they are but journeymen thieves 



DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 161 

they serve under the king of the bottomless pit, who, 
if need be, will come in to their aid himself, and his 
voice is as the roaring of a lion, 1 Pet. 5:8. I myself 
have been engaged as this Little-Faith Christian tells bis 
was, and I found it a terrible thing, own experience in 

, .„ . , T tW* case. 

These three villains set upon me, and 1 
beginning like a christian to resist, they gave but 
a call, and in came their master. I would (as the say • 
ing 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 often have fled, both they and their 
master, when Great-Grace hath but appeared ; and no 
marvel, for he is the King's champion. The King's 

But I trow, you will put some difference champion, 
betwixt Little-Faith and the King's champion. All 
the king's subjects are not his champions ; nor can 
they, when tried, do such feats of war as he. Is it 
meet to think that a little child should handle Goliath 
as David did ? or that there should be the strength oi 
an ox in a wren ? Some are strong, some are weak ; 
some have great faith, some have little : this man was 
one of the weak, and therefore he went to the wall. 

Hope. I would it had been Great-Grace for their 
sakes. 

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

full ; for I must tell you, that though Great Grace is 

excellent good at his weapons, and has, and can, so 

ldng as he keeps them at sword's point, do well 

14+ 



162 DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 

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 demon- 
stration 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, Psalm, 88; and Hezekiah too, 
though champions in their days, were forced to bestir 
them, when by these assaulted ; and yet, notwith- 
standing, 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 thai 
they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl. 

Besides, their king is at their whistle; he is never 
out of hearing ; and if at any time they be put to the 
worst, he, if possible, comes in to help them ; and of 
Leviathan's stur- him it is said, " The sword of him that 
diness - layeth at him cannot hold ; the spear, 

the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemed 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 might do notable things. u For his 
The excellent met. neck is clothed with thunder. He will 
tie that u in Job's not be afraid as the grasshopper : the 
glory of his nostrils is terrible. He 



DISCOURSE ABOUT LITTLE-FAITH. 163 

paweth in the valley, rejoiceth in his strength, and 
goeth out to meet the armed men. He mocketh at 
fear, and is not affrighted, neither turneth back from 
the sword. The quiver rattleth against him, the 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 thundering of the captains, and the shoutings," 
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 man- 
hood ; for such commonly come by the worst when 
tried. Witness Peter, of whom I made mention be- 
fore ; he would swagger, ay, he would ; he would, as 
his vain mind prompted him to say, do better, and 
stand more for his Master than all men; but, who so 
foiled and run down by these villains as he? 

When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are 
done on the King's highway, two things become us 
to do. 

1. To go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a 
shield with us ; for it was for the want of that, that 
he that laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make 
him yield ; for, indeed, if that be wanting, he fears us 
not at all. Therefore, he that had skill hath said, 
u Above all, take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall 
be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked," 
Ephes. 6 : 16. 

2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a con- 
voy, yea, that he will go with us him- It is good to have 
self. This made David rejoice when a coav °y- 



IG4 THE FLATTERER SEDUCES THE PILGRIM3. 

m 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. O my brother, if 
he will but go along with us, what need we be afraid 
of ten thousands that shall set themselves against us ? 
Psalm, 3 : 5—8 ; 27 : 1—3. But without him, the 
proud helpers fall under the slain, Isa. 10 : 4. 

I, for my part, have been in the fray before now, 
and though (through the goodness of Him that is best) 
I am, as you see, alive, yet I cannot boast of my man- 
hood. Glad shall I be if I meet with no more such 
brunts ; though I fear we are not got beyond all dan- 
ger. However, since the lion and the bear have not 
as yet devoured me, I hope God will also deliver 
us from the next uncircumcised Philistine. 

Poor Little-Faith! hast been among the thieves? 
Wast robb'd ? Remember this, whoso believes, 
And get more faith; then shall your victors be 
Over ten 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. J r 

where they saw a w r ay put itself into 
their way, and seemed withal to lie as straight as the 
way which they should go ; and here they knew not 
which of the two to take, for both seemed straight 
before them ; therefore here they stood still to con- 
sider. And as they were thinking about the way, 
behold, a man black of flesh, but covered with a very 
light robe, came to them, and asked them why they 
stood there. They answered, they were going to the 
Celestial City, but knew not which of these ways to 
take. Follow me, said the man ; it is thither that I 
am going. So they followed him in the way that but 
now came into the road, which by degrees turned, 



THE NET. — THEIR MISERY. 165 

and turned them so from the city that christian and his 
they desired to go to, that in a little time fellovv deluded, 
their faces were turned from it ; yet they followed 
him. But by and by, before they were They are takeu 
aware, he led them both within the in a uet - 
compass 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 cry- 
ing some time, for they could not get themselves out. 

Chr. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I 
see myself in an error. Did not the They bewail their 
Shepherds bid us beware of the Flat- condition, 
terer ? As is the saying of the wise man, so we have 
found it this day: " A man that flattereth his neigh- 
bor, spreadeth a net for his feet," Prov. 29 : 5. 

Hope. They also gave us a note of directions about 
the way, for our more sure finding thereof; but therein 
we have also forgotten to read, and not kept ourselves 
from the paths of the destroyer. Here David was 
wiser than we , for, saith he, " Concerning the works 
of men, by the word of thy lips I have kept me from 
the paths of the destroyer," Psalm 17 : 4. Thus they 
lay bewailing themselves in the net. At last they es- 
pied a Shining One coining toward A Shining One 

r ° ° comes to them with 

them with a whip of small cords in a whip in his hand. 
his hand. "When he was come to the place where 
they were, he asked them whence they came, and 
what they did there. They told him that they were 
poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of 
their way by a black man clothed in white, who bid 
us, said they, follow him, for he was going thither too. 
Then said he with a whip, It is Flatterer, a false apos- 
tle, that hath transformed himself into an angel of 



166 A SHINING ONE CHASTISES THEM SORELY. 

light, Dan. 11 : 32; 2 Cor. 11 : 13, 14. So he rent the 
net, and let the men out. Then said he to them, Fol- 
low me, that I may set you in your way again. So 
lie led them back to the way which they had left to 
follow the Flatterer. Then he asked them, saying, 
. Where did you lie the last night ? 

Tlipvurc Gxninin- 

e«i. a'ud convicted They said, With the Shepherds upon 
ofibrgeifuiue iS . the De lectable Mountains. He asked 
them then if they had not a note of directions for the 
way. They answered, Yes. But did you not, said 
he, when you were at a stand, pluck out and read 
your note? They answered, No. He asked them, 
Why ? They said they forgot. He asked, moreover, 
if the Shepherds did not bid them beware of the 

Deceivers fine Flatterer. They answered, Yes ; but 
spoken. we ^id not i ma gine, said they, this fine- 

spoken man had been he, Rom. 16 : 17, 18. 

Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them 
to lie down ; which when they did, he 
P ed, andTent 'on chastised them sore, to teach them the 
their way. good way wherein they should walk, 

Deut. 25 : 2 ; 2 Chron. 6 : 27 ; and as he chastised 
tliem, he said, "As many as I love I rebuke and chas- 
ten; be zealous, therefore, and repent," Rev. 3; 19. 
This done, he bids them go on their way, and take 
good heed to the other directions of the Shepherds. 
So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went 
softly along the right way, 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 scourg'd to boot : let this your caution be. 

Now, after a while, they perceived afar off one com 



ATHEIST MEETS THE PILGRIMS. 167 

ing softly, and alone, all along the highway 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 now 
i«;st he should prove a flatterer also. So The Atheist mccu 
he drew nearer and nearer, and at last them * 
came up to them. His name was Atheist, and he 
asked them whither they were going. 

Cur. We are going to ihp.Mnnpf. 7Agn 

Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter. 

Chr. What's the meaning of your laughter? 

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

Chr. Why, man, do you think we They reas0 n to- 
shall not be received ? e cthcr - 

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 mine own country, 
I heard as you now affirm, and from that 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 Thc Atheist takc3 
be found, for I have gone to seek it up his content in 

. \ t i_ i this world. 

further than you,) I am going back 
again, and will seek to refresh myself with the things 
that I then cast away for hopes of that which I now 
see is not. 



168 THEY OPPOSE ATHEIST. 

Chr. Then said Christian to Hopeful his com* 
Christian proveth panion, Is it true which this man hath 

his brother. said ? 



Hopeful's gra- member what it hath cost us once al- 
cious answer. ready for harkening to such kind of fel- 
lows. What ! no Mount Zion ? Did we not see from 
the Delectable Mountains the gate of the city ? Also, 
are we not now to walk by faith ? 2 Cor. 5 : 7. Let us 

Remembrance of gO Oil, lest the mail With the whip OVer- 
former chastise- ta k e us a aain. You should have taught 

meat is a help ° ° 

against present me that lesson, which I will round you 

temptation. ^ ^ eftrg w j t } ia j . (( C ease) my SOll, 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. Heb. 10 : 39. 

Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to 
thee, for that I doubted of the truth of our belief my- 
self, but to prove thee, and to fetch 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 1 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 until 

They come to the they came into a certain country, whose 
enchanted ground. a ir naturally tended to make onedrow* 
sy, if he came a stranger into it. And here Hopeful 

Hopeful begins to began to be very dull, and heavy to 
be drowsy. s ] ee p . wherefore he said unto Christian, 

I do now begin to grow so drowsy, that I can scarcely 



THE EXCKAxVTED GROUND. 160 

hold open mine eyes j let us lie down here and take 
one nap. 

Chr. By no means, said the other, christian keeps 
lest sleeping we never awake more. hnn awake - 

Hope. Why, my brother ? sieep is sweet to the la- 
boring man ; we may be refreshed if we take a nap. 

Chr. Do you not remember that one of the Shep- 
herds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground ? He 
meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping : 
wherefore "let us not sleep as others do, but let us 
watch and be sober," 1 Thess. 5 : 6. 

Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault ; and had I 
been here alone, I had by sleeping run TT . . ., , 

Al -,•.;• • • He is thankful. 

the danger of death. I see it is true 
that the wise man saith, " Two are better than one,'' 
Eccles. 4 : 9. Hitherto hath thy company been 
my mercy; and thou shalt have a good reward for 
thy labor. 

Chr. Now, then, said Christian, to Good discourse 
prevent drowsiness in this place, let us ^ e ™ ntcth drmY 
fall into good discourse. 

Hope. With all my heart, said the other. 

Chr. Where shall we begin ? 

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

Chr. I will sing you first this song. 

When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, 
Anil hear how these t\vr> pilgrims talk together 
Yea, let them learn of them in any wise, 
Thus to keep cpe their drowsy, slumb'ring eyes. 
Saint's fellowship, if it be managed well, 
Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell* 



Chr. Then Christian began, and .,.J h ^_. be ? in a * 
|ues 
15 



the beginning of 

said, I will ask you a question. How their conversion 



170 HOPEFUL'S ACCOUNT OP HI3 CONVERSION. 

came you to think at first of doing as you do now 1 
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; 
things which I believe now would have, had I con- 
tinued in them still, drown ed me in perdition and 
/destruction. 
<Jt\ Chr. What things were they ? 
Y" Hope. All the treasur es _and riches of the w orld. 
Hopeful's lifiTbc^Also I delighted much in rioting, re- 
rore conversion. vel i ingj drinking, swearing, lying, un- 
cleanness, sabbath-breaking, and what not, that tended 
to destroy the soul. But I found at last, by hearing 
and considering of things that are divine, which, in- 
deed, I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful that 
was put to death for his faith and good living in Va- 
nity Fair, that the end of these things is death, Rom. 
6 : 21 — 23 ; and that for these things' sake the wrath 
of God cometh upon 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 know the 
Hopeful at first ev ^ °f sm > nor tne damnation that fol- 
ihnta his eyes lows upon the commission of it ; but 
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 it 
thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon 
you? 
Hope. The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this 



hopeful's account of his conversion. 171 

was the work of God upon me. I ne- Reasons of his 
ver thought that by awakenings for sin, resistin s the light. 
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 convic- 
tions were upon me, were such troublesome and such 
heart-affrighting hours, that I could not bear, no, not 
so much as the remembrance of them upon my heart. 

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

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

Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to 
mind again? 

Hope. Many things ; as, when he had lost 

-i t/. t t i i . . i .his sense of siu, 

1. If I did but meet a good man in what brought it 
the streets ; or, again - 

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 were 
sick ; or, 

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

6. If I thought of dying myself; or, 

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

8. But e specially when I thought of mvself. that I 
must quickly come to judgment. 

"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? 
Hope. No, not I j for then they got faster hold of 



172 hopeful's account OF HI3 conversion. 

my conscience ; and then, if I did but think of going 
back to sin, (though my mind was turned against it,) 
it would be double torment to me. 
Chr. And how did you then ? 
When he could HopE - l thought I must endeavor to 
no longer shake oir mend my life : or else thought I, I am 

his guilt by sinful , -, -, 

courses, then he sure to be damned. 

endeavors to mend. Chr And djd y QU endeavor to mend ? 

Hope. Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, but sin- 
ful company too, and betook me to religious duties ; 
as praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth 
to my 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 trouble 
came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck 
of all my reformations. 

Chr. How came that about, since you were now 
reformed ? 

Hope. There were several things brought it upon 

Reformation at me > especially such sayings as these: 
last could not help, "All our righteousnesses are as filthy 

*ndwhy. ^^ j ga u . g « jj y th(J workg Qf 

the law shall no flesh be justified," Gal. 2 : 16. When 
ye have done all those things, say, We are unprofit- 
able," 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 justified, 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 
His being a debt- thought thus : If a man runs a hundred 
or to the iuw trou- pounds into the shop-keeper's debt, and 
after that shall pay for all that he shall 



hopeful's account of his conversion. 173 

fetch; yet if his old debt stand still in the book un- 
crossed, 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? 

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 present amendments, 
But how shall I be freed from that damnation that I 
brought myself in danger of by my former trans- 
gressions ? 

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 His espying bad 
look narrowly into the best of what I thi "e s in . his £■* 

J duties troubled 

do now, I still see sin, new sin, mixing him. 
itself with the best of that I do ; so that now I am forced 
to conclude, that notwithstanding my former fond con- 
ceits 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 then ? 

Hope. Do ! I could not tell what to do, until I broke 
my mind to Faithful ; for he and I were well acquainted. 
And he told me, that unless I could ob- Thij made h . M 
tain the righteousness of a man that break his mind to 

, ' - . , .., Faithful, who told 

never had sinned, neither mine own, him the way to be 
nor all the righteousness of the world, saved * 
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 infirmi- 
15* 



174 hopeful's account of his conversion. 

ty, and the sin which cleaves to my best performance, 
I have been forced to be of his opinion. 

Chr. But did you think, when at first he suggested 
it to you, that there was such a man to be found, of 
whom it might justly be said that he never commit- 
ted sin ? 

Hope. I must confess the words at first sounded 
strangely ; but after a little more talk and company 
with him, I had full conviction about it. 

Chr. And did you ask him what man this 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, 

A more particular Heb. 10 ! 12-21. And thus, Said he, 

discovery of the y 0U must be justified by him, even by 

way to be saved. . , • , ,,,,,. 

trusting to what he hath done by him- 
self 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 believing, 
He doubts of ac- for that I thought he was not willing to 

ceptation. gave me# 

Chr. And what said Faithful to you then? 

Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said it 

He is better in- was presumption. He said, No ; for I was 

•tructcd. invited to come, Matt. 11 : 28. Then he 

gave me a book of Jesus's inditing, to encourage me 

the more freely to come j and he said concerning that 



hopeful's account of his conversion. 175 

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; Daniel 6 : 10; 
with all my heart and soul, Jer. 29 : 12, 13, the Father 
to reveal him to me. Then I asked him further, how 
I must make my supplications to him ; and he said, Go, 
and thou shalt find him upon a mercy-seat, where he 
sits all the year long to give pardon and forgiveness 
to them that come, Ex. 25 : 22 ; Lev. 16:2; Num. 7 : 
89; Heb. 4 : 16. I told him that I knew „ .' 

, : i_t ,, He is bid to pray. 

not what to say when I came ; and he 
bid me say to this effect : God be merciful to me a sin- 
ner, and make me to know and believe in Jesus Christ; 
for I see, that if his righteousness 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 ? 

Hope. Yes. over, and over, and 

' He prays. 

over. 

Chr. And did the Father reveal the Son to you ? 

Hope. No, not at 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. 

Chr. Had you no thoughts of leaving off praying 1 

Hope. Yes ; and a hundred times twice told. 

Chr. And what was the reason you did not ? 



176 hopeful's account of his conversion. 

Hope. I believed that it was true which hath been 
told me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this 
Christ, all the world could not save me ; and therefore, 
He durst not leave thought I with myself, if I leave off, I die, 
off praying, and and I can but die at the throne of grace. 
And withal this came into my mind, " If 
it tarry, wait for it ; because it will surely come, and 
will not tarry," Hab. 2:3. So I continued praying 
until the Father showed me his Son. 

Chr. And how was he revealed unto you? 

Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but 
Christ is revealed with the eyes of my understanding, Eph. 
to him, and how. j . 18j 19 . a nd thus it was. One day I 
was very sad, I think sadder than at any one time in 
my life : and this sadness was through a fresh sight ol 
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 sin- 
ner: and he answered, "My grace is sufficient for 
thee," 2 Cor. 12 : 9. Then I said, " But, Lord, what 
is believing ?" And then I saw from that saying, " He 
that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that be- 
lieveth on me shall never thirst," John 6 : 35, that be- 
lieving 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 
ihe water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further, 
" But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am be in- 
deed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee?" And I 
heard him say, " And him that cometh to me I will in 



hopeful's account of his conversion. 177 

so 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 ? Then 
he said, "Christ Jesus came into the w r orld 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 between 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 fcr satisfaction for my sins by his 
blood : that what he did in obedience to his Father's 
faw, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not 
lor himself, but for him that will accept it for his salva- 
tion, and be thankful. And now was my heart full of 
joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections run- 
ning over with love to the name, people, and ways of 
Jesus Christ. 

Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul 
indeed. But tell me particularly what effect this had 
upon your spirits. 

Hope. It made me see that all the world, notwith- 
standing 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 sin- 
ner. It made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of 
my former life, and confounded me with the sense of 
mine own ignorance; for there never came thought 
into my heart before now that showed me so the beau- 
ty of Jesus Christ. 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 



178 IGNORANCE COMES CP AGAIN. 

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 behind, com- 
ing 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. 

Cur. That is true ; but I warrant you he thinketh 
otherwise. 

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

Then Christian said to him, Come 

JmesuplgaiiT 6 awa Y> man 5 why did y°u stay so 
behind 3 

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

Then said Christian to Hopeful, (but softly,) Did 
I not tell you he cared not for our company ? But 
however, come up, and let us talk away the time in 
this solitary place. Then, directing his speech to 
Ignorance, he said, Come, how do you do? How 
stands it between God and your soul now ? 

Ignor. I hope, well ; for I am always full of good 
ignorance's hope, motions that come into my mind to 
and the ground of it. comfort me as I walk. 

Chr. What good motions ? pray tell us. 
Ignor. Why, I think of God and heaven. 
Chr. So do the devils and damned souls. 
Ignor. But I think of them, and desire them. 
Chr. So do many that are never like to come there. 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND IGNORANCE. 179 

" The soul of the sluggard desires, 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 persuaded 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 v* 
a good one. 

Chr. But how dost thou prove that? 

Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven. 

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

Ignor. But my heart and life agree together ; and 
therefore my hope is well grounded. 

Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree 
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 indeed to 
have these, and another thing only to think so. 

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



ISO D1SCOUHSE OF CHRISTIAN AND IGNORANCE 

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

Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting ourselves 1 

Chr. Such as agree with the word wimt are good 
of God. thought*. 

Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree 
with the word of God? 

Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon our 
selves which the word passes. To explain myself : 
the word of God saith of persons in a natural condi- 
tion, "There is none righteous, there is none that 
doeth good." It saith also, that " every imagination 
of the heart of man is only evil, and that continually, rt 
Gen. 6: 5; Rom. 3. And again, " The imagination of 
man's heart is evil from his youth," Gen. 8 : 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 judgment upon our hearts, so it 
passeth a judgment upon our ways ; and when the 
thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judg- 
ment which the word giveth of both, then are both 
good, because agreeing thereto. 

Ignor. Make out your meaning. 

Chr. Why, the word of God saith, that man's ways 
are crooked ways, not good, but perverse : it saith, 
they are naturally out of the good way, that they have 
not known it, Psalm 125 : 5,; Prov. 2 : 15 ; Rom. 3: 12. 
Now when a man thus thinketh of his ways, I say 
when he doth sensibly, and with heart-humiliation, 
thus think, then hath he good thoughts of his own 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIAN AND IGNORANCE. 181 

ways, because his thoughts now agree with the judg- 
ment of the word of God. 

Ignor. What are good thoughts concerning God ? 

Chr. Even, as I have said concerning ourselves, 
when our thoughts of God do agree with what the 
word saith of him ; 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 bet- 
ter 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 nostrils, and that therefore he cannot abide to 
see us stand before him in any confidence, even of all 
our best performances. 

Ignor. Do you think that I am such a tool as to 
think that God can see no farther than I; or that I 
would come up to God in the best of my performances 1 

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

Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe in 
Christ for justification. 

Chr. How ! think thou must believe in Christ, when 
•hou seest not thy need of him I Thou neither 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 a necessity 
of Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee be- 
fore God. How, then, dost thou say, I believe in 
Christ 1 

Ignor. I believe well enough for all that 

Chr. How dost thou believe ? 
16 



182 XpiSCOURSE or CHRISTIAN and ignorance. 



Ignqr. I believe that Christ die d for sinne rs; and^ 
The faith of ig- that I shall be justified before God from 
Dorauce. t ^ e curse) Ihrou gh hi s gracious accep- 

tance of ( ^^otje dierigej tojns Jaw .1 Or thus, Christ 
makes my duties, that are religious, acceptable to his 
Father by virtue of his merits, and so shall I be jus- 
tified. 

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

1. Thou believest with a fantasticaMaith ; for this 
faith is no where described in the word. £} 

27TlT6u believest with a false faith ; because it taketh 
justification_from thej)ersbnal righteousness of Christ, 
and applies it to thy own. 

3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy 
person, but of t hy actio ns ; 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 sensikle__Qfits 
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 justifica- 
tion, thy obedience accepted with God, but his per- 
sonal obedience 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 ot 
which the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as 
spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquitted from 
condemnation. 

Ignor. What ! would you have us trust to what 
Christ in his own person has done without us? This 
conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and tolerate 
us to liv e as we list : for what matter how we live, if 



THE FOLLY OF IGNORANCE. 183 

we may be justified by Christ's personal righteousness 
from all, when we believe it? 

Chr. Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so 
art thou : even this thy answer demonstrateth what I 
say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying righteous- 
ness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul through 
the faith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, 
thou also art ignorant of the true effects of saving faith 
in this righteousness of Christ, which is to bow and 
win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his name, 
his word, ways, and people, and not as thou ignorantly 
imaginest. 

Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to 
him from heaven. 

Ignor. What ! you are a man for revelations ! I be- 
lieve, that what both you and all the i gn0 rance jangles 
rest of you say about that matter, is but with them - 
the fruit of distracted brains. 

Hope. Why, man ! Christ is so hid in God from the 
natural apprehensions of all flesh, that he cannot by 
any man be savingly known, unless God the Father 
reveals him to him. 

Ignor. That is your faith, but not mine; yet mine, 
I doubt not, is as good as yours, though He speaks re 
I have not in my head so many whim- proachfuiiyofwhat 

he knows not. 

sies 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 
ooldly affirm, (even as my good companion hath done,) 
that no man can know Jesus Christ but by the revela- 
tion of the Father : yea, and faith too, by which the 
soul layeth hold upon Christ (if it be right) must be 
wrought by the exceeding greatness of his mighty 
power, Matt. 11 : 27; 1 Cor. 12 : 3; Eph. 1 : 17—19; 



184 IGNORANCE STAYS BEHIND THE PILGRIMS. 

the working of which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, 
thou art ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine 
own wretchedness, and fly to the Lord Jesus ; and by 
his righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, 
(for he himself is God,) thou shalt be delivered from 
condemnation. 
Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with you ; 
do you go on before : I must stay awhile 

The talk broke up., , . , J 

behind. 
Then they said— 

Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be, 
To slight good counsel, ten times given thee? 
And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know 
Ere long the evil of thy doing so. 
Remember, man, in time ; stop, do not fear ; 
Good counsel, taken well, saves ; therefore hear., 
But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be 
The loser, Ignorance, I'll warrant thee. 

Then Christian addressed himself thus to his fellow . 

Chr. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that 
thou and I must walk by ourselves again. 

So I saw in my dream that they went on apace be- 
fore, and Ignorance he came hobbling after. Then 
said Christian to his companion, I much pity this poor 
man: it will certainly go ill with him at last. 

Hope. Alas ! there are abundance in our town in his 
condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and that 
of pilgrims too; and if there be so many in our parts, 
how many think you must there be in the place 
where he was born ! 

Chr. Indeed, the word saith, "He hath blinded 
their eyes, lest they should see," &c. 

But, now we are by ourselves, what do you think of 
such men ? have they at no time, think you, convic- 



TALK OF CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL. 185 

tions of sin, and so, consequently, fears that their 
state is dangerous ? 

Hop.e. Nay, do you answer that question for your- 
self, for you are the elder man. 

Chr. Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may : 
but they being naturally ignorant, understand not that 
such convictions tend to their good ; and therefore 
they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presump- 
tuously continue to flatter themselves in the way of 
their own hearts. 

Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much 
to men's good, and to make them right The good use of 
at their beginning to go on pilgrimage. fear - 

Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it be right : for so 
says the word, " The fear of the Lord is the beginning 
of wisdom," Job, 28: 28; Psalm 111: 10; Prov. 1: 
7; 9: 10. 

Hope. How will you describe right fear? 

Chr. True or right fear is discovered _. . . . 

to Right fear. 

by three things : 

1. By its rise : it is caused by saving convictions 
for sin. 

2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for 
salvation. 

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? 

Chr. Why ? are you weary of this discourse? 
16* 



186 TALK OF ONE TEIV1PORARY. 

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 convictions as 
tend to put them in fear, are for their 

Why ignorant _ 7 , . „ , , . ., 

oersons do stifle good, and therefore they seek to stifle 

eviction. them> 

Hope. How do they seek to stifle them ? 

Chr. 1. They think that those fears aie wrought 
by the devil, (though indeed they are wrought of 
God,) and, thinking so, they resist them, as things 
that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also 
think that these fears tend to the spoiling of their 
faith ; (when, alas for them, poor men that they are, 
they have none at all ;) and therefore they harden 
their hearts against them. 3. They presume they 
ought not to fear, and therefore, in despite of them, 
wax presumptuously confident. 4. They see that 
those fears tend to take away from them their pitiful 
old self-holiness, and therefore] they resist them with 
all their might. 

Hope. I know something of this myself; for before 
I knew myself it was so with me. 

Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbor 
Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable 
question. 

Hope. With all my heart ; but you shall still begin. 

Chr. Well, then, did you know, about ten years 
Talk about one a g° 5 on e Temporary in your parts, who 
Temporary. was a forward man in religion 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. 



TALK OF ONE TEMPORARY. 187 

Chr. Right ; he dwelt under the same roof with 
him. Well, that man was much awakened once: I 
believe that then he had some sight of his sins, and 
of the wages that were due thereto. 

Hope. I am of your mind, for (my house not being 
above three miles from him) he would ofttimes come 
to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pitied the 
man, and was not altogether without hope of him : 
but one may see, it is not every one that cries, " Lord, 
Lord !" 

Chr. He told me once that he was resolved to go 
on pilgrimage, as we go now ; but all on a sudden he 
grew acquainted with one Save-self, and then he 
became a stranger to me. 

Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, let us 
a little inquire into the reason of the sudden back- 
sliding of him and such others. 

Chr. It may be very profitable ; but do you begin. 

Hope. Well, then, there are, in my judgment, four 
reasons for it : 

1. Though the consciences of such men are awa- 
kened, yet their minds are not changed : therefore, 
when the power of guilt weareth away, that which 
provoked them to be religious ceaseth; wherefore 
they naturally turn to their old course again j 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 alien- 
ated from his vomit, he turns him about, and licks up 
all j and so it is true which is written, " The dog is 
turned to his own vomit again," 2 Pet. 2 : 22. Thus, 



188 TALK OP ONE TEMPORARY. 

I say, being hot for heaven, by virtue only of the 
sense and fear of the torments of hell, as their sense 
of hell and fear of damnation chills and cools, so their 
desires for heaven and salvation cool also. So then it 
comes to pass, that when their guilt and fear is gone, 
their desires for heaven and happiness die, and they 
return to their course again. 

2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that 
do overmaster them : I speak now of the fears 
that they have of men : " For the fear of 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, when 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 
ihem ; they like not to see their misery before they 
come into it; though perhaps the sight of it first, if 
they loved that sight, might make them fly whither 
the righteous fly, and are safe ; but because they do. 
as I hinted before, even shun the thoughts of guilt 
and terror, therefore, when once they are rid of 
their awakenings about the terrors and wrath of God, 
they harden their hearts gladly, and choose such ways 
as will harden them more and more. 



TALK OF ONE TEMPORARY. 180 

Cur. You are pretty near the business, for the bot- 
tom 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 is evident ; because, let 
but this man ha\e his liberty, and he will be a thief, 
and so a rogue still j whereas, if his mind was 
changed, he would be otherwise. 

Hope. Now I have showed you the reasons of their 
going back, do you show me the manner thereof. 

Chr. So I will willingly : 

1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, 
from the remembrance of God, death, Ho w the a P os 
and judgment to come. tale s oes back - 

2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as 
closet prayer, curbing their lusts, watching, sorrow 
for sin, and the like. 

3. Then they shun the company oi Hvely and 
warm christians. 

4. After that, they grow cold to public duty, as 
hearing, reading, godly confidence, 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 religion (for 
the sake of some infirmities they have espied in them) 
behind their backs. 

6. Then they begin to adhere to, and to associate 
themselves with, carnal, loose, and wanton men. 

7. They then give way to carnal and wanton dis- 
courses 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. 



190 VHE PILGRIMS ARRIVE AT BEULAH. 

8. After this they begin to play with little sinr 
openly. 

9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves 
as they are. Thus, being launched again into the gulf 
of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent it, they 
everlastingly perish in their own deceivings. 

Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pil- 
grims were got over the Enchanted Ground, and en 
tering 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 them 
selves there for a season. Yea, here they heard con 
tinually the singing of birds, and saw every day the 
flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the 
turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth 
night and day : wherefore this was beyond the valle/ 
of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach o! 
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 me: 
them some of the inhabitants thereof; for in this land 
the shining ones commonly walked, be • 
cause it was upon the borders of heaven. 
In this land also the contract between the Bride anc' 
the Bridegroom was renewed ; yea, here, " as tho 
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their God 
rejoice over them." Here they had no want of corn 
and wine ; for in this place they met with abundance 
of what they had sought for in all their pilgrimages. 
Here they heard voices from out of the City, loud 
voices, saying, " Say ye to the daughter of Zion, Be- 
hold, 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. 



THEIR FEELINGS IN BEULAII. 191 

Now, as they walked in this land, they had more 
rejoicing than in parts more remote from the king- 
dom to which they were bound j 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 rea- 
son of the natural glory of the City, and the reflection 
of the sunbeams 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 be- 
cause 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 
hear their sickness, they walked on their way, and 
came yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, 
vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into 
the 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 delights, and also for the so- 
lace 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 
King's walks and the arbors where he delighteth to 
be : and here they tarried and slept. 

Now I beheld in my dream that they talked more 
in their sleep at this time than ever they did in all 
their journey ; and, being in a muse thereabout, the 
gardener said even to me, Wherefore musest thou at 
the matter ; it is the nature of the fruit of the grapes 
of these 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 them- 



102 THE PILGRIMS REACH THE RIVEK. 

selves to go up to the City. But, as I said, the reflec- 
tion of the sun upon the City (for the City was pure 
gold, Rev. 21 : 18;) was so extremely glorious that 
they could not as yet with open face behold it, but 
through an instrument made for that purpose, 2 Cor. 
3 : 18. So I saw, that as they went on, there met them 
two men in raiment that shone like gold, also their 
faces shone as the light. 

These men asked the pilgrims whence they came ; 
and they told them. They also asked them where 
they had lodged, what difficulties and dangers, what 
comforts and pleasures, they had met in the way; and 
they told them. Then said the men that met them, 
You have but two difficulties more to meet with, and 
ihen you are in the City. 

Christian then and his companion asked the men to 
% o along with them : so they told them that they would ; 
But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. 
Ho 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 

Death. ' ° 

go over ; and the river was very deep. 
At the sight therefore of this river the pilgrims were 
much stunned; but the men that went with them 
said, You must go through or you cannot come a< 
Ihe gate. 

The pilgrims 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 trum- 
pet shall sound. The pilgrims then, especially Chris- 
tian, began to despond in his mind, and looked this 



christian's distress in the river. 193 

way and that, but no way could be found by them by 
which they might escape the river. Death not welcome 
Then they asked the men if the waters £ S^^STJS 
were all of a depth. They said, No; yet °j* J his world illl ° 
they could not help them in that case ; 
For, said they, you shall find it deeper n J n ^ s J:£uy 
or shallower as you believe in the King through death, 
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 dark- Christian . 8 con . 
ness and horror fell upon Christian, so flict at th e hour of 
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 com- 
mitted, both since and before he began to be a pilgrim. 
It was also observed, that he was troubled with appari- 
tions of hobgoblins and evil spirits ; for ever and anon 
he would intimate so much by words. 

Hopeful therefore here had much ado to keep his 
17 



194 THEY GET OVER THE RIVER. 

brother's head above water ; yea, sometimes he would 
be quite gone down, and then, ere awhile, he would 
rise up again half dead. Hopeful also would 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; you have 
been hopeful ever since I knew you. And so have 
you, said he to Christian. Ah, brother, (said he,) sure- 
ly 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 received of his goodness, 
and live upon him in your 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 maketh thee 
whole. And with that Christian brake out with a 

Christian deli- loud Voice > 0n , l See him a g ai " 5 a "d he 

v^red from his tells me " When thou passest through 
the waters, I will be with thee ; and 
Ihrough the rivers, they shall not overflow thee," 
Isaiah, 43 : 2. Then they both took courage, and the 
enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they 
were gone over. Christian therefore, presently found 
ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest 
of the river was but shallow. Thus they got over. 
Now upon the bank of the river, on the other side, 



THE OTHER SIDE OP THE RIVER. 195 

they saw the two shining men again, who there waited 

for them. Wherefore being come out of the river, 

they saluted them, saying, We are min- The angelg do 

istering spirits, sent forth to minister for wai * f »r them so 

, , \t i i_ • r- i • soon M the y are 

those that shall be heirs of salvawon. passed out of this 

Thus they Avent along toward the gate. world * 

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 mortal gar- 
ments behind them in the river ; for They havc put 
though they went in with them, they off mortality, 
came out without them. They therefore went up 
here with much agility and speed, though the founda- 
tion upon which the City was framed was higher than 
the clouds; they therefore went up through the re- 
gions of the air, sweetly talking as they went, being 
comforted because they safely got over the river, and 
had such glorious companions to attend them. 

The talk 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 " the 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 every day with the King, even all the 
days of eternity, Rev. 2:7. 3 : 4, 5. 22 : 5. There 
you shall not see again such things as you saw when 
you were in the lower region upon the earth ; to wit, 
sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death ; " For the for- 



196 THE HAPPINESS OF HEAVEN DESCRIBED. 

mer tilings 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? 
To whom it was answered, You must there receive 
the comfort of all your toil, and have joy for all your 
sorrow ; you must reap what you have sown, even the 
fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufferings for 
the King by the way, Gal. 6 : 7, 8. In that place you 
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 de- 
lighted 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 in an equipage fit to ride out with the King of 
Glory. When he shall come with sound of trumpet 
in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you 
shall come with him ; and when he shall sit upon the 
throne of judgment, you shall sit by him ; yea, and 
when he shall pass sentence upon all the workers of 
iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall 
have a voice in that judgment, because they were his 
and your enemies. Also, when he shall again return 
to the City, you shall go too with sound of trumpet, 



THE WELCOME OF ANGELA. 197 

and bs ever with him, 1 Thess. 4 : 13—17. Jude, 14, 
15. Dan. 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 the other two 
shining ones. These are the men that have loved our 
Lord, when they were in the world, and that have left 
all for his holy name ; and he hath sent us to fetch 
them, and we have brought them thus far on their de- 
sired journey, that they may go in and look their Re- 
deemer in the face with joy. Then the heavenly host 
gave a great shout, saying, " Blessed are they that are 
called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb," 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 with melodious voices 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, aud 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 
brother how welcome they were into their company, 
and with what gladness they came to meet them. 
And now were these two men, as it were, in heaven, 
17+ 



198 THE GATE OF THE CELESTIAL CITY. 

before they came at it, being swallowed up with the 
sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious 
notes. Here also they had the City itself in view; 
and thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to 
welcome them thereto. But, above all, the warm and 
joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling 
there with such company, and that for ever and ever, 
oh, by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be 
expressed !— Thus they came up to the gate. 

Now when they were come up to the gate, there 
was written over it in letters of gold, " Blessed are 

THEY THAT DO HIS COMMANDMENTS, THAT THEY MAY 
HAVE RICHT TO THE TREE OF LIFE, AND MAY ENTER IN 
THROUGH THE GATES INTO THE CITY," Rev. 22 : 14. 

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 Destruction, for the love 
that they bear to the King of this place : and then the 
pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, 
which they had received in the beginning; those there- 
fore were carried in to the King, who, when he had 
read them, said, Where are the men ? To whom it 
was answered, They are standing without the gate. 
The King then commanded to open the gate, " That 
the righteous nation (said he) that keepeth truth may 
enter in," Isaiah, 26 : 2. 

Now I saw in my dream that these two men went 
in at the gate ; and lo ! as they entered, they were 
transfigured ; and they had raiment put on that shone 
like gold. There 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 



THE PILGRIMS ENTER THE CELESTiAL CITY. 199 

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," Matt. 25 : 23. 
I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with 
a loud voice, saying, " Blessing, and honor, and glory, 
and power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever," Rev. 5 : 13. 

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the 
men, I looked in after them, and behold the City 
shone like the sun ; the streets also were paved with 
gold ; and in them walked many men, with crowns 
on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden 
harps, to sing praises withal. 

They were also of them that had wings, and they 
answered one another without intermission, saying, 
Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord. And after that they 
shut up the gates : which, when I had seen, I wished 
myself among them. 

Now while I was gazing upon all these things, I 
turned my head to look back, and saw Ignorance 
come up tq the river side; but he soon ignorance come, 
got over, and that without half the diffi- u p to the river - 
culty which the other two men met with. For it 
happened that there was then in the place one Vain- 
Hope, a ferryman, that with his boat Vain Hop e does 
helped him over ; so he, as the others I ferry him over, 
saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate ; only 
he came alone ; neither did any 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 of the gate, 
Whence came you ? and what would you have ? He 



200 THE DREADFUL END OF IGNORANCE. 

answered, I have ate and drank in the presence of the 
King, and he has taught in our streets. Then they 
asked him for his certificate, that they might go in 
and show it to the King : so he fumbled in his 
bosom for one, and found none. Then said they, 
Have you none? but the man answered never a 
word. So they told the King, but he would not come 
down to see him, but commanded the two shining 
ones, that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the 
City, to go out, and take Ignorance, and bind him, 
hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took 
him up, and carried him through the air, to the door 
that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. 
Then I saw that there was a hell, even from the gate 
of heaven, as well as from the City of Destruction 
go 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, V 

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 the* 

Do thou the substance of my matter see. 

Put by the curtains, look within my vail, / 

Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail ; 

There, if thou seest them, such things thou'lt mid 

As will be helpful to an honest mj pd. 

What of my dross thou findest there, be bold 

To throw away, but yet preserve \\\e. 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 a&aio. 



THE 

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 

FROM 

THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME 
PART II. 

DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 

Wherein is set forth the manner of the setting out 

of Christian's wife and children; their 

dangerous journey, and safe arrival 

at the desired country. 

* I hoc* used similitudes."— Hos. 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, Who's there ? 

Then answer thou, Christiana is here. 

If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, 

With all thy boys ; and then, as thou know'st how, 

Tell who they are, also from whence they came : 

Perhaps 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 home, 
Are turned Pilgrims ; seek a world to come : 
That they have met with hardships in the way : 
That they do meet with troubles night and day : 
That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils 
Have also overcome a many evils : 
Yea, tell them also of the next who have, 
Of love to pilgrimage, been stout and brave 
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 Pilgrims brings. 
L«t them acquainted be too, how they are 



204 the author's account 

Beloved of their King, under his care ; 

What goodly mansions he (or 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 r. 

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 brought themselves into 
The hands and houses of I know not who. 



'Tis true some have of late, to counterfeit 
My Pilgrim, to their own my title set ; 
Yea, others half my name, and title too, 
Have stitched to their books to make them do: 
But yet they, by their features, do declare 
Themselves not mine to be, whose e'er they are. 

If such thou meet'st with, then thine only 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 will do 



OF HIS SECOND PART. 205 

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 ? 



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. 
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 familiar with them be. 

'Tis in New England under such advance, 
Receives there so much loving countenance, 
As to be trimm'd, new cloth'd, and deck'd with gems, 
That it 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 shows 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 delight, 
Say, my lark's leg is better than a kite. 
Young ladies and young gentlewomen too 
Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show: 
18 



206 the author's accouht 

Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their heart*, 
My pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts 
His pretty riddles in such wholesome strains 
As yield them profit double to their pains 
Of reading ; yea, I think I may be bold 
To say, some prize him far above their gold. 
The very children that do walk the street, 
If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet, 
Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
He is the only stripling of the day. 

They that have never seen him, yet admire 
What they have heard of him, and much desire 
To have his company, and hear him tell 
Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. 

Yea, some that did 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 to be 
Afraid to show thy head : none can hurt thee 
That wish but well to him that went before ; 
Cause thou com'st after with a second store 
Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, 
For young, for old, for stagg'ring and for stable. 

OBJECTION III. 

But some there be that say, He laughs too loud. 
And some do say, His head is in a cloud. 
Some say, His words and stories are so dark 
They know not how by them to find his mark. 



One may (I think) say, Both his laughs and cries 
May well be guess'd at by his wat'ry eyes. 
Somo things are of that nature as to make 
One's fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache. 



0F HIS SECOND PART. 207 

When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, 
He did, at the same lime, both kiss and weep 

Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head ; 
That doth but show his wisdom's covered 
With his own mantle, and to stir the mind 
To search well after what it fain would find. 
Things that seem to be hid in words obscure, 
Do but the godly mind the more allure 
To study what those sayings should contain, 
That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. 
I also know a dark similitude 
Will on the curious fancy more intrude, 
And will stick faster in the heart and head 
Than things from similes not borrowed. 

Wherefore, my Book, let no discouragement 
Hinder thy travels : behold thou art sent 
To friends, not foes ; to friends that will give place 
To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. 

Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal'd, 
Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal'd ! 
What Christian left lock'd up, and went his way, 
Sweet Christiana opens with her key. 

OBJECTION IV. 

But some love not the method of your first : 
Romance they count it, throw't away as dust. 
If I should meet with such, what should I say ? 
Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay 7 

ANSWER. 

My Christiana, if with such thou meet, 
By all means, in all loving wise them greet; 
Render them not reviling for revile : 
But if they frown, I pr'ythee, on them smile: 
Perhaps 'tis nature, or some ill report, 
Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. 



208 the author's account 

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 and me. 
Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art: 
Say, I am Christiana, and my part 
Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what 
It is for men to take a Pilgrim's lot. 

Go also, tell them who and what tbey be 
That now do go on pilgrimage with thee ; 
Say, Here's my neighbor Mercy ; she fs one 
That has long time with me a pilgrim gone ; 
Come see her in her virgin face, and learn 
'Twixt idle one's 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 r 
Yea, tell them how plftin-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. 



OF HIS SECOND PART. 

Tell also them, how Master Fearing went 
On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent 
la solitariness, with fears and cries ; 
And how at last he won the joyful prize. 
He was a good man, though much down in spirit; 
He is a good man, and doth life inherit. 

Tell them of Master Feeble-mind also, 
Who not before, but still behind would go : 
Show them also, how he had like been slain, 
And how one Great-Heart did his life regain. 
This man was true of heart, though weak in grace 
One might true godliness read in his face. 

Then tell them of Master Ready-to-Halt, 
A man with crutches, but much without fault: 
Tell them how Master Feeble-Mind and he 
Did love, and in opinions, much agree ; 
And le.. all know, 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 put down Doubting Castle, slay Despair ! 

Overlook not Master Despondency, 
Not Much Afraid his daughter, though they lie 
Under such mantles, as may make them look 
(With some) as if their God had them forsook. 
They softly went, but sure; and at the end, 
Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend. 
When thou hast told the world of all these things, 
Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings: 
Which, if but touched, will such music make, 
They'll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. 

Those riddles that lie ccuch'd within thy breast, 
Freely propound, expound ; and for the rest 
18* 



210 the author's account of his second part. 

Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain 

For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain. 

Now may this little Book a blessing be 
To those that love this little book and me ; 
And may its buyer have no cause to say, 
His money is but lost, or thrown away. 
Yea, may this second Pilgrim yield that fruit 
As may with each good Pilgrim'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 Buntait. 



I 



THE 

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 

IN THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 



PART II. 



Courteous Companions, 

Some time since, to tell you my dream that I had of 
Christian the pilgrim, and of his dangerous journey 
toward the Celestial country, was pleasant to me, and 
profitable to you. I told you then also what I saw 
concerning his wife and children, and how unwilling 
they were to go with him on pilgrimage ; insomuch 
that he was forced to go on his progress without them ; 
for he durst not run the danger of that destruction 
which he feared would come by staying with them in 
the City of Destruction : wherefore, as I then showed 
you, he left them and departed. 

Now it hath so happened, through the multiplicity 
of business, that I have been much hindered and kept 
back from my wonted travels into those parts where 
he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an oppor . 
tunity to make further inquiry after these whom he 
left behind, that I might give you an account of them. 
But having had some concerns that way of late, I 
went down again thitherward. Now having taken up 
my lodgings in a wood about a mile off the place, as 
I slept, I dreamed again. 



212 DISCOURSE WITH MR. SAGACITY. 

And, as I was in my dream, behold an aged gentle 
man came by where I lay ; and because he was to go 
some part of the way that I was traveling, methought 
I got up and went with him. So as we walked, and as 
travelers 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 I, what town is that there below, that lieth 
on the left hand of our way '? 

Then said Mr. Sagacity, (for that was his name,) It 
is the City of Destruction, a populous place, but pos- 
sessed with a very ill-conditioned and idle sort of 
people. 

I thought that was that city, quoth I; I went once 
myself through that town; and therefore know that 
this report you give of it is true. 

Sag. Too true ! I wish I could speak truth in speak 
ing better of them that dwell therein. 

Well, sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well- 
meaning man, and so one that takes pleasure to hear 
and tell of that which is good. Pray, did you never 
hear what happened to a man some time ago of this 
town, (whose name was Christian,) that went on a pil- 
grimage up toward the higher regions ? 

Sag. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the mo- 
lestations, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, 
frights, and fears, that he met with and had in his 
journey. Besides, I must tell you, all our country 
rings of him : there are but few houses that have heard 
of him and his doings but have sought after and got 
the records of his pilgrimage ; yea, I think I may say, 
that his hazardous journey >ias got many well-wishers 
to his ways ; for, though when he was here he was 
fool in every man's mouth, yet now he is gone he i« 



THE HAPPINESS OF CHRISTIAN. 213 

highly commended of all. For 'tis said 

fee lives bravely where he is : yea, many Chr ; st ians are well 

J j •> j spoken of when 

of them that are resolved never to run gone, though caii- 
liis hazards, yet have their mouths wa- L-ehere VShiletliey 
ter 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 
flrief mixed therewith. But, pray what talk have the 
people about him ? 

Sag. Talk! the people talk strangely about him: 
tome say that he now walks in white, Rev. 3:4; that 
he has a chain of gold about his neck; that he has a 
rrown of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head : others 
yay, that the shining ones, who sometimes showed 
themselves to him in his journey, are become his com- 
panions, and that he is as familiar with them in the 
place where he is, as here one neighbor is with ano- 
ther. Besides, it is confidently affirmed concerning 
him, that the King of the place where he is has be- 
€ towed 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 re- 
teiveth of the smiles and favors of him that is Judge 
of all there, Zech. 3:7; Luke, 14 : 14, 15. Moreover, 
xt 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 neigh- 
bors set so little by him, and had him so much in deri- 
sion, when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim, 
Jude 14, 15. 

For they say that now he is so in the affections oJ 



> 



214 CHRISTIANA AND HER SONS. 

_. . ,. , „. his Prince, that his Sovereign is so 

Christian's King ° 

win take Chris- much concerned with ihe indignities 
uanspart. ^ at were cast U p 0n Christian when he 

became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all as if don 
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 for the 
poor man's sake, for that he now has rest from his la- 
bor, and for that he reapeth the benefit of his tears with 
joy; and for that he has got beyond the gun-shot of 
his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hale 
him, Rev. 14 : 13 ; Psalm 126 : 5, 6. I also am glad for 
that a rumor of these things is noised abroad in this 
country ; who can tell but that it may work some good 
effect on some that are left behind? But, pray, sir, 
while it is fresh 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 are 
. like to do as well as Christian did him- 

Good tidings of , „ . , . , ,, , , , - , 

Christian's wife self; for though they all played the fool 

and children. a{ g^ Rnd WQuld by nomeans be per . 

suaded 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 chil- 
dren, and all? 

Sag. It is true : I can give you an account of the 
matter, for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was 
thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair. 

Then, said I. a man. it seems, may report it for a 
truth. 



ohristiana's cogitations and moanings. 215 

Sag. You need not fear to affirm it : I mean that 
they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman 
and her four boys. And seeing we are, as I perceive, 
going some considerable way together, I will give you 
an account of the whole matter. 

This Christiana, (for that was her name from the 
day that she with her children betook herself to a pil- 
grim's life,) after her husband was gone over the river, 
and she could hear of him no more, began to have 
thoughts working in her mind. First, for that she had 
lost her husband, and for that the loving bond of that 
relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you 
know, said he to me, nature can do no less but enter- 
tain the living with many a heavy cogitation, in the 
remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This, 
therefore, of her husband did cost her Mark this , you tIiat 
many a tear. But this was not all; for are churls to your 
Christiana did also begin to consider s ° y re atloas * 
with herself, whether her unbecoming behavior toward 
her husband was not one cause that she saw him no 
more, and that in such sort he was taken away from 
her. And upon this came into her mind, by swarms, 
all her unkind, 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 hus- 
band, and how she did harden her heart against all his 
entreaties and loving persuasions of her and her sons 
to *go with him ; yea, there was not any thing that 
Christian either said to her, or did before her all the 
while that his burden did hang on his back, but it re- 
turned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the 
caul of her heart in sunder ; specially that bitter outcry 



216 Christiana's discourse and dream. 

of his, " What shall I do to be saved?" did ring in her 
ears most dolefully. 

Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all un- 
done. I have sinned away your father, and he is gone : 
he would have had us with him, but I would not go 
myself: I also have hindered you of life. With that 
the boys fell all into tears, and cried out to go after 
their father. Oh (said Christiana) that it had been but 
our lot to go with him ! then had it fared well with us, 
beyond what it is like to do now. For, though I for- 
merly foolishly imagined, concerning the troubles of 
your father, that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that 
he had, or for that he was over-run with melancholy 
humors ; yet now it will not 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 es- 
caped the snares of death, Pro v. 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 parchment was 

Christiana's drean, opened ^^ ^ fa ^^ ^^ ^ 

corded the sum of her ways ; and the crimes, as she 

thought, looked very black upon her. Then she cried 

out aloud in her sleep, " Lord, have mercy upon me, a 

sinner !" Luke, 18:13; and the little children heard her. 

After this she thought she saw two very ill-favored 

ones standing by her bed-side, and saying, What shall 

we do with this woman ? for she cries out for mercy, 

Mark this: this is wakin S and sleeping; if she be suffered 

the quintessence of to go on as she begins, we shall lose her 

as we have lost her husband. Where 

fore we must, by one way or other, seek to take hei 

off from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter, else 



THOUGHTS OF HER HUSBAND'S HAPPINESS. 217 

ail the world cannot help, but she will become a pilgrim. 

Now she awoke in a great sweat; also a trembling 
was upon her ; but after a while she fell to sleeping 
again. And then she thought she saw Christian her 
husband in a place of bliss among many Help against dis . 
immortals, with a harp in his hand, couragcmeot. 
standing and playing upon it before One that sat upon 
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 ; bi t 
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 a while, one knocked 
hard at the door ; to whom she spake out saying, u 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 ?" Then she blushed and trembled ; also her 
heart began to wax warm with desires to know from 
whence he came, and what was his errand 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 thou hadst a desire to go thither: also there is a 
report that thou art aware of the evil 
thou hast formerly done to thy hus- condX^Sgs 
band, in hardening of thy heart against Pardon™ 1 " 11 " 653 
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 forgive, 
19 



218 THE VIStT OF SECftET TO CHRISTIANA. 

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 presence, to his table, 
and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, 
and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. 

" There is Christian, thy husband that was, with le- 
gions 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 greatly abashed in herself, and 
bowed her head to the ground. This visiter proceeded 
and said, " Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, 
which I have brought from thy husband's King ;" so 
she took it, and opened it, but it smelt after the man- 
ner of the best perfume, Cant. 1 : 3. Also it was writ- 
ten in letters of gold. 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 and to dwell in his presence with joy for 

Christiana quite ever. At this the good woman was quite 
overcome. overcome ; so she cried out to her visit- 

er, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, 
that we also may go and worship the King ? 

Then said the visiter, Christiana, the bitter is before 

Further instrue- the sweet. Thou in us t through troubles, 
tions to Christiana. n $ f[ K \ he that went before thee, enter 
this Celestial City. Wherefore I advise thee to do as 
did Christian thy husband : go to the wicket-gate yon 
der, 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 
bosorr., that thou read therein to thyself, and to thy 
children, until you have got it by heart ; for it is one 



CHRISTIANA INVITES HER SONS TO CO WITH HER. 219 

of the songs that thou must sing while thou art in this 
house of thy pilgrimage, Psa. 119 : 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 proceeded, and said ; 
So Christiana called her sons together, and began thus 
to address herself unto them : " My sons, Christiana pravs 
I have, as 3^ou may perceive, been of late ] ^ r . «>ns to take 
under much exercise in my soul about eirjourney - 
the death of your father: not for that I doubt at all of 
his happiness; for I am satisfied now that he is well. 
I have also been much affected with the thoughts of 
mine own state and yours, which I verily believe is by 
nature miserable. My carriage also to your father hi 
his distress is a great load to my conscience; for I 
hardened 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 stranger 
lias given me this morning. Come, my children, let us 
pack up, and be gone to the gate that leads to the celes- 
tial country, that we may see your father, and be with 
him and his companions in peace, according to the 
laws of that land. 

Then did her children burst 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 Christiana's neioti- n,. 

o I imorous and 

bors, came up to her house, and knocked Mercy come to vi- 
at her door. To whom she said as be- 81t nstiana - 



220 TIMOROUS AND MERCY VISIT CHRISTIANA. 

fore, If you come in God's name, come in. At this 
_ . . , the women were stunned ; for this kind 

Christiana's new 

language stuns her of language they used not to hear, or to 

old neighbors. perceiye tQ drQp from the lips of Chris _ 

tiana. Yet they came in : but behold, they found the 
good woman preparing to be gone from her house. 

So they began, and said, Neighbor, pray what is 
Vour meaning by this ? 

Christiana answered, and said to the eldest of them, 
whose name was Mrs. Timorous, I am preparing for a 
journey. 

This Timorous was daughter to him that met Chris- 
tian upon the Hill of Difficulty, and would have had 
him go back for fear of the lions. 

Tim. For what journey, I pray you 1 

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 children'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, I have been sorely 

afflicted since my husband's departure from me ; but 

specially since he went over the river. 

But that which troubleth me most is, 

my churlish carriage to hi in when he was under his 



DISCOURSE OF CHRISTIANA AND TIMOROUS. 221 

distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; nothing 
will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a dream- 
ing 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 ; 
lie is become a companion 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 palace 
has also sent for me, with promises 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 ? 

Tim. Oh, the madness that has possessed thee and 
thy husband, to run yourselves upon such difficulties ! 
You have heard, I am sure, what your husband did 
meet with, even in a manner at the first step that he 
took on his way, as our neighbor Obstinate can yet 
testify, for he went along with him ; yea, and Pliable 
too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any 
further. We also heard, over and above, how he met 
with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of The reasonings 
Death, and many other things. Nor is ofthe flesh - 
the danger he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten 
by thee. For if he, though a man, was so hard put to 
it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do? Con- 
sider also, that these four sweet babes are thy chil- 
dren, 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 

19* 



222 MERCY CLEAVES TO CHRISTIANA. 

gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest 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 in the way, thev 

A pertinent reply r r , ■ i- 

to fleshly reason- are so far from being to me a discou- 
ing ' ragement, 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 fellow, 
Come, neighbor Mercy, let us leave her in her own 
hands, since she scorns our counsel and company. But 
Mercy was at a stand ; and could not so readily corn- 
Mercy's bowels P ] y with her neighbor; and that for a 
yearn over Chris- twofold reason. 1. Her bowels yearned 
t)ver Christiana. So she said within her- 
self, 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 upon her mind. Wherefore 
she said within herself again, I will yet have more talk, 
with this Christiana ; and, if I find truth and life in 
what she shall say, I myself with my heart shall also 
go with 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 her 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 fooling 
too; but take heed in time, and be wise: while we are 



MRS. TIMOROUS AND MRS. KNOW-NOTHING. 223 

out of danger, we are out ; but when we are in, we 
are in. 

So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Chris- 
tiana betook herself to her journey. Timorousforsakes 
But when Timorous was got home to her » ^ . Merc y 

cleaves to her. 

her house she sends for some of her 
neighbors, to wit, Mrs. Bat's-Eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, 
Mrs. Light-Mind, and Mrs. Know-Nothing. So when 
they were come to her house, she falls Timorous ac- 
to telling of the story of Christiana, and quaints her friends 

jii what the & ood 
of her intended jouvney. And thus she Christiana intends 

began her tale : t0 °' 

Tim. Neighbors, having had little to do this morn- 
ing, I went to give Christiana a visit ; and when I 
came at the door I knocked, as you know it is our 
custom: and she answered, If you come in God's 
name, come in. So in I went, thinking all was well : 
but, when I came in I found her preparing herself to 
depart the town, she, and also her children. So I asked 
her what was her meaning by that. And she told me, 
in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pil- 
grimage, as did her husband. She told me also of a 
dream that she had, and how the King of the country 
where her husband was had sent her an inviting let- 
ter to come thither. 

Then said Mrs. Know-Nothing, And M rs. Know No 
what ! do you think she will go? thin &- 

Tim. Ay, go she will, whatever comes on't ; and rae- 
thinks I know it by this; for that which was my great 
argument to persuade her to stay at home (to wit, the 
troubles she was like to meet with 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. 



224 MRS. LIGHT-MIND, BATS-EYES, AND INCONSIDERATE. 

Mrs. Bat's-Eyes. Oh, this blind and foolish wo- 
.. « ^ nian ! said she ; and will she not take 

Mrs. Bat's-Eyes. . • ' , ., , 

warning by her husband's afflictions ? 
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 with 
„ _ .. such fantastical fools from the town ! a 

fllrs. Inconsiderate. . 

good riddance, for my part, I say, of 

her ! should she stay where she dwells, and retain this 

her mind, who could live quietly by her ? for she will 

either be dumpish, or unneighborly, or talk of such 

matters as no wise body can abide. Wherefore, foi 

my part, I shall never be sorry for her departure ; let 

her go, and let better come in her room : it was neve) 

a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it 

Then Mrs. Light-Mind added as followeth : Comt 

Mrs. Light-Mind, put this kind of talk away. I was yes 

Madam Wanton, terday at Madam Wanton's, where we 

S 6 hS? HVt were as merry as the maids. For who 

hard for Faithful, do you think should be there but I and 

in time past. __ rf _ , ' , 

Mrs. Love-the-Flesh, and three or foui 
more, with Mrs. Lechery, Mrs. Filth, and some others : 
so there we had music and dancing, and what else wan 
meet to fill up the pleasure. And I dare say, my lad)' 
herself is an admirable well-bred gentlewoman, and 
Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. 

By this time Christiana was got on her way, and 
Mercy went along with her : so as they went, her 

Discourse betwixt children bein g there also > Christiana 

Mercy and good began to discourse. And, Mercy, said 

Christiana, I take this as an unexpected 

favor, that you shouldest set forth out of doors with 

me to accompany me a little in my way. 



MERCY GOES WITH CHRISTIANA. 225 

Mek. Then said young Mercy, (for she was but 

yOling,) If I thought it WOllld be tO pur- Mercy incline* 

pose to go with you, I would never go t0 s°- 
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 in- 
vitation. 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 
should be entertained ? Had I this hope Mercy doubt8 of 
but from one that can tell, I would make acceptance, 
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 what thou 
shalt do: go with me to the Wicket- 

/-. . t ,1 -w ■ « « . ., . . Christiana allures 

Gate, and there I will further inquire for her to the gate, 
thee ; and if there thou shalt not meet wh J ch is Christ * 

snu promises 

with encouragement, I will be content th ere to inquire 
that thou return to thy place ; I will for her ' 
also pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to 
me and my children in the accompanying of us in our 
way as thou dost. 

Mer. Then will I go thither, and will take what 
shall follow ; and the Lord grant that 
my lot may there fall, even as the King Mercy prays ' 
of Heaven shall have his heart upon me. 

Christiana then was glad at her heart : not only 
that she had a companion; but also for Christiana glad of 
that she had prevailed with this poor Mercy's company. 



226 MERCY ENCOURAGED. 

maid 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? 
Mer. Alas ! said she, who can but lament, that shall 
Mercy grieves but ri gbtly consider what a state and 
for her carnal re- condition my poor relations are in that 

yet remain in our sinful town? And 
that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because 
ihey have no instructor, nor any to tell them what is 
to come. 

Chr. Bowels become 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 
w"re auswire'd for gather up his tears, and put them into 
his relation after } HS bottle; and now both I and thou, 

he was dead. ' 7 

and these my sweet babes, are reaping 
the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, that 
these tears of thine will not be lost; for the truth hatli 
said, that " they that sow in tears shall reap in joy/' 
And " he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing pre- 
cious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, 
bringing his sheaves with him," Psalm 12fr : 5, 6. 
Then said Mercy, 

Let the Most Blessed be my guide, 

If it be his blessed will, 
Unto his gate, into his fold, 

Up to his holy hill. 

And let Him never suffer me 

To swerve, or turn aside 
From his free grace and holy ways, 

Whate'er shall me betide. 

And let Him gather them of mine 

That I have left behind ; 
Lord, make them pray they may be thine, 

Willi all their heart and mind. 



THE SLOUGH OF DESPOSDi 227 

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 smother- 
ed with mud. She perceived, also, that notwithstand- 
ing the command of the King to make this place for 
pilgrims gfcod, yet it was rather worse than formerly. 
So I asked if that was true. Yes, said the old gentle- 
man, too true ; for many there be that pretend to be 
the King's laborers, and say they are for mending the 
King's highways, who bring dirt and Tneir owu carna , 
dung instead of stones, and so mar in- conclusions instead 
stead of mending. Here Christiana there- ° 
fore, with her boys, did make a stand. But said Mercy, 
Come, let us venture, only let us be Merry Uie boldei( 
wary. Then they looked well to their at the siough of 

, ii-/. Despond. 

steps, and made a shift to get stagger- 
ing 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 belie veth, 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 Chris- 
tiana, Had I as good ground to hope for a loving re- 
ception at the Wicket-Gate as you, I think no Slough 
of Despond would discourage me. 

Well, said the other, you know your sore, and I 
know mine ;, and, good friend, we shall all have enougli 
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 



£28 I'llk DOG BARKING At THfc.M* 

fears and snares, with what troubles and afflictions 
they can possibly assault us with that hate us? 

And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my 

dream by myself. AVherefore, methought I saw Chris- 

rraycr should be tiana 3 and Mercy, and the boys, go all 

made with comb- of them up to the gate: to which when 

deration and fear, * ° m 

us well as in faith the} r were come, they betoolotnemselves 
and hope. tQ a g } 10rt debate,, about how they must 

manage their calling at the gate, and what should be 
said unto him that did open to them : so it was con* 
eluded, 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 bark*- 

Thedog.thede- lllg UP ° n lh * m > * d ° g ' 8Ild & gl ' eat ° nG 

vii, an enemy to too : and this made the women and chil- 

prayer. ^^ a f ra j ( j ^ Qr ^ UYS i {\ ie y f or 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 knew not what to do ; 

Christiana and knock they durst not, for fear of the 

l::rpiexT pa utu s t d °g; s° back lhe y durst not, forfear 

prayer. the keeper of the gate should espy them 

as they so went, and should be offended with them ; 
at last they '.nought of knocking again, and knocked 
more vehemently than they did at first. Then said the 
keeper of the gate, Who is there ? So the dog left off 
to bark, and he opened unto them. 

Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, Let 
not our Lord be offended with his hand-maidens, for 
that we have knocked at his princely gate. Then said 
the keeper, Whence come ye ? And what is it that 
vou would have ? 



CHRISTIANA RECEIVED. 229 

Christiana answered, We are come from Whence 
Christian did come, and upon the same errand as he ; 
to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admit- 
ted by this gate into the way that leads unto the Ce- 
lestial 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 
ago abhorred that life ? Then she bowed her head, 
and saidj Yea ; and so are these my sweet babes also. 

Then he took her by the hand and led her in, and 
said also, Suffer the little children how Christiana 
to come unto me ; and with that he «" entertained at 
shut up the gate. This done, he called e * d e 
to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to enter* 
tain 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 without, 
trembling and crying, for fear that she was rejected. 
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, I have a companion of 
mine that stands yet without, that is Christiana , 5 prcy 
come hither upon the same account as w for her friend 

itJ.CfC v » 

myself: one that is much dejected in 
her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without 
sending for : whereas I was sent for by my husband's 
King to come. 

Now Mercy began to be very impatient, and each 
minute was as long to her as an hour ; ,-■•', 

° • " . . . Delays make the 

wherefore she prevented Christiana inhering soul tha 
from a fuller interceding for her, by morc fcrvent ' 
20 



230 MERCY ADMITTED AND WELCOMED. 

knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked then 
so loud that she made Christiana to start; Then 
said the keeper of the gate, Who is there? And 
Christiana said, It is my friend. 

So he opened the rate, and looked 

Mercy Faints. , _, r „\, ' 

out, but Mercy was fallen down with- 
out 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, Damsel, I 
bid thee arise. 

O Sir, said she, I am faint t 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 my friend Christiana was, Hers was from 
the King, and mine was but from her. Wherefore I 
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. And 
if there is any grace and forgiveness of sins to spare, I 
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 believe oil 
me, by what means soever they come unto me. Then 
said he to those that stood by, Fetch something and 
give it Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her faint- 
ings : so they fetched her a bundle of myrrh, and a 
while after she was revived. 

And now were Christiana and her boys, and Mercy, 



TALK BETWEEN THE CHRISTIANS. 231 

received of the Lord at the head of the way, and 
spoken kindly unto by him. Then said they yet fur- 
ther 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, 1:2; John. 
20 : 20. 

Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good 
words unto them, whereby they were greatly glad- 
dened. He also had them up to the top of the gate, 
and showed them by what deed they Christ crucified 
were saved; and told them withal, that 6eeDafar °ff- 
that sight they would have again as they went along 
the way, to their comfort. 

So he left them a while in a summer parlor below, 
where they entered into a talk by themselves ; and 
thus Christiana began. How glad am T aik between 
I that we are got in hither ! the christians. 

Mer. So you well may ; but I, of all, have cause to 
leap for joy. 

Chr. I thought one time, as I stood at the gate, 
because 1 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 were taken into his favor, and that I was left 
behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is 
written, " 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 



232 TALK BETWEEN THE CHRISTIANS. 

courage. I also thought that I must either knock 
again, or die ; so I knocked, but I cannot tell how ; 
for my spirit now struggled between life and death. 

Christiana thinks ChR. Can yOU llOt tell how yOU 
her companion i i i n t i i 

prays better than knocked ? I am sure your knocks 
b!ie - were so earnest that the very sound ot 

them made me start ; I thought I never heard such 
knocking in all my life ; I thought you would come 
in bv a violent hand, or take the kingdom by storm, 
Matt. 11:12. 

Mer. Alas ! to be in my case, who that so was 
could but have done so ? You saw that the door was 
shut upon me, and that there was a most cruel dog 
thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as 
J, would not have knocked with all their might ? But 
pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness ? Was he 
not angry with me? 

Chr. When he heard your lumbering noise, he 
i gave a wonderful innocent smile ; I 

Christ pleased to , ' 

witii loud and rest- believe what you did pleased him wen, 

less prayer. f QY j lg s ] lowe( J no gjgn ^ Q fa e contrary'. 

If the soul at first ° J 

did know all it But I marvel in my heart why he keeps 
fS journey* 1 !!! such a dog : had I known that before, I 
hoaveu, it would should not have had heart enough to 

hardly ever set out. , , , . . , . 

have ventured myself in this manner. 
But now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all 
my heart. 

Mer. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes 
down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard ; I 
hope he will not take it amiss. 

Do so, said the children, and persuade him to hang 
The children are him ; for we are afraid he will bite us 

afraid of the dog. when we ffQ hence. 

So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy 



EXPLANATION ABOUT THE DOG. 233 

tell to the ground on her face before him, and wor- 
shipped, 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, " Right- 
eous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee ; yet 
let me talk with thee of thy judgments," Jer. 12 : 1. 
Wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a Mercy expostu- 
dog in thy yard, at the sight of which, lates about tlie do &- 
such women and children as we, are ready to fly 
from the gate for fear ? 

He answered and said, That dog has another 
owner: he also is kept close in another 

' , . . ' V :. . - " , The Devil. 

mans ground, only my pilgrims hear 
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. 
Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried 
some that I loved ; but I take all at present patiently. 
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 beggars that go from door to door, 
will, rather than lose a supposed alms, A check to the 
run the hazard of the bawling, barking, carnal fear of the 
and biting too of a dog; and shall a dog, 
20* 



234 the devil's garden. 

a dog in another man's yard, a dog whose barking 1 
turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any one from 
coming to me? I deliver them from the lions, and my 
darling from the power of the dog. 

Mer. Then said Mercy, I confess my 

Christians, when . T . , - , , 

wise enough, ac- ignorance ; I spake what I understand 
X^'oftheii'Lord: 110 ^ 1 acknowledge that thou dost all 
things 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. 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, 

Bless'd be the day that I began 

A pilgrim for to be ; 
And blessed also be the man 

That thereto moved me. 

'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began 

To seek to live for ever ; 
But now I run fast as T 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 that 

fenced in the way up which Christiana and her com- 

panions were to go, a garden, and that 

The devil's garden. r . , , , , . , 

garden belonged to him whose was that 
barking dog, of whom mention was made before. 
And some of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden 
si ot their branches over the wall ; and being mellow 



TWO ILL-FAVORED ONES ASSAULT THEM. 235 

they that found them did gather them up, and eat of 
them to their hurt. So Christiana's boys, as boys are 
apt to do, being pleased with the trees, The ^^ eat 
and with the fruit that hung thereon, of the enemy's 
did pluck them, and began to eat. 
Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still 
the boys went on. 

Well, said she, my sons, you transgress, for that 
fruit is none of ours; but she did not know that it be- 
longed to the enemy : I'll warrant you if she had she 
would have been ready to die for fear. But that pass- 
ed, 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 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 at last „ .... . 

7 Two ill-favored 

they met together. Then they that ones assault Chris- 
came down to meet them, came just up tlana and Merc >'* • 
to the women, 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, re- 
garded not Christiana's words, but began to lay hands 
upon them : at that Christiana, waxing very wroth, 
spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well 
as she could, did what she could to shift them. 
Christiana again said to them, Stand back, and be gone, 
for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims, as you 
see, and such too as live upon the charity 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 



230 THEY ARE RESCUED. 

which we shall ask, we will make women of you 
for ever. 

Chr. Now Christiana, imagining what they should 
mean, made answer again, We will neither hear, nor 
regard, nor yield to what you shall ask. We are in 
haste, and cannot stay ; our business is a business of 
life and death. So again 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 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 that 
ie cries out. y Qu arg come ; but we will die rather 
upon the spot, than to suffer ourselves to be brought 
into such snares as shall hazard our well-being here- 
after. And with that they both shrieked out and 
cried, Murder ! murder ! and so put themselves under 
those laws that are provided for the protection of wo- 
men, Deut. 22 : 25—27. But the men still made their 
approach upon them, with design to prevail against 
them. They therefore cried out again. 

Now, they being, as I said, not far from the gate in 
... at which they came, their voice was 

It is pood to cry J 

out when we are heard from whence they were, thither : 
wherefore some of the house came out, 
and knowing that it was Christiana's tongue, they 
The Reliever made haste to her relief. But by that 
comes they were got within sight of them the 

women were in a very great scuffle; the children also 
6tood crying by. Then did he that came in for their re- 
lief call out to the ruffians, saying, What is that thing 
you do ; would you make my Lord's people to trans- 
gress ? He also attempted to take them, but they did 



DISCOURSE WITH THE RELIEVER. 237 

make their escape over the wall into the The g ones g y to 
garden of the man to whom the great the devil for relief - 
dog belonged ; so the dog became their protector. This 
reliever then came up to the women, and asked them 
how they did. So they answered, We thank thy 
Prince, pretty well; only we have been somewhat 
affrighted : we thank thee also for that thou earnest in 
to our help, otherwise we had been overcome. 

Reliever. So after a few more words this reliever 
said as followeth: I marvelled much T j ie Reliever 
when you was entertained at the gate talks to the women, 
above, seeing ye knew that ye were but weak women, 
that you petitioned not the Lord for a conductor ; 
then might you have avoided these troubles and dan- 
gers ; for he would have granted you one. 

Chr. Alas ! said Christiana, we were so taken wnh 
our present blessing, that dangers to 
come were forgotten by us. Beside, 
who could have thought, that so near the King's 
palace there could have lurked such naughty ones ? 
Indeed, it had been well for us had we asked our Lord 
for one ; but since our Lord knew it would be for our 
profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us. 

Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not 
asked for, lest by so doing they become of little es- 
teem ; but when the want of a thing is We i ose for not 
felt, it then comes under, in the eyes asking. 
of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its 
due, and so consequently it will be thereafter used. 
Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would 
not either so have bewailed that oversight of yours, 
in not asking for one, as now you have occasion to do, 
So all things work for good, and tend to make you 
more wary. 



238 Christiana's dream repeated. 

Chr. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and con- 
fess our folly, and ask one ? 

Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present 
him with. To go back again, you need not ; for in all 
places where you shall come, you will find no want 
at all ; for in every of my Lord's lodgings, which he 
lias prepared for the reception of his pilgrims, there is 
sufficient to furnish them against all attempts whatso- 
ever. 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 is 

The mistake of here ! I made account we had been 
Werc J- past all danger, and that we should 

never see sorrow more. 

Chr. Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to 
_., . ., Mercy, may excuse thee much : but as 

Christiana's guilt. „ J ' ' • , . , , 

for me, my fault js 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 to be blamed. 

Mer. Then said Mercy, How knew you this before 
you came from home? Pray open to me this riddle. 

Chr. Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of 
Christiana's dream doors, one night as I lay in my bed I 
n-poatcd. had a dream about this ; for methought 

I saw two men, as like these as ever any in the world 
could look, stand at my bed's feet, plotting how they 
might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very 
words. They said, (it was when I was in my troubles,) 
What shall we do with this woman ? for she cries out 
waking and sleeping for forgiveness ; if she be suffered 
to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have 



tHEY REACH THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. 239 

lost her husband. This you know might have made 
me take heed, and have provided when provision 
might have been had. 

Mer. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have 
an occasion ministered unto us to be- _, 

luercv makes good 

hold our own imperfections, so our Lord use of their neglect 
has taken occasion thereby to make ol duty ' 
manifest the riches of his grace ; for he, as we see, 
has followed us with unasked kindness, and has de- 
livered 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 pil- 
grims, as you will find more fully related in the first 
Dart of these records of the Pilgrim's Progress. So 
they drew on toward the house ; (the house of the 
Interpreter:) and when they came to the door they 
heard a great talk in the house. Then Talk in the in* 
they gave ear, and heard, as they thought, S^£J™£ 
Christiana mentioned by name; for you going on pilgrim 
must know that there went along, even age ' 
before her, a talk of her and her children's going on 
pilgrimage. And this was the more pleasing to them, 
because they had heard that she was Christian's wife, 
that woman who was some time ago so unwilling to 
hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they 
stood still, and heard the good people within com- 
mending her, who they little thought stood at the 
door. At last Christiana knocked, as she had done at 
the gate before. Now, when she had knocked there 
came to the door a young damsel, and The door is o P en- 

/, . i , -. V i, ed to them by Juno- 

opened the door, and looked, and behold cent. 

two women were there* 



240 JOY AT THEIR COMING IN THE HOtSE. 

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 Avithin ? 

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 is also 
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 ? There is Christiana and her children, 
and her companion, all waiting for entertainment 
, . . , . here. Then thev leaped for joy, and 

I Joy in the house J r J •" 

of the interpreter went and told their master. So he 
turned p^gS* " came to the door, and looking upon her, 
he said, Art thou that Christiana whom 
Christian the good man left behind him When he 
betook himself 10 a pilgrim's life'? 

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 chil- 
dren ; but now also I 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 work to-day in my vine- 
yard ; and he said to his father, I will not \ but after- 
ward repented and went," Matt. 21 : 29* 



THEIR HAPPY RECEPTION. 241 

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 l 
Come in, thou daughter of Abraham ; we were talking 
of thee but now, for tiding3 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. 

So when they were within, they were bidden to sit 
down and rest them ; the which when they had done 5 
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 ow saints gbd 
for joy that Christiana was become a J^g*^* 
pilgrim. They also looked upon the ways, 
boys, they stroked them over their faces with the hand 
in token of their kind reception of them : they also 
carried it lovingly to Mercy, and bid them all welcome 
into their masters house. 

After a while, because supper was not ready, the 
Interpreter took them into his Signifi- Th6 S j gn ifi cant 
cant Rooms, and showed them what Rooms - 
Christiana's husband had seen some time before. Here 
therefore they saw the man m the cage, the man and 
his dream, the man that cut his way through his ene- 
mies, 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 
21 



242 TtfE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE. 

The man with mt0 a room ) where was a man that could 
iiie muck-rake ex- look no way but downwards, with a 

pounded. 

muck-rake in his hand. There stood 
also one over his head, with a celestial crown in his 
hand, and proffered him that crown for his muck- 
rake ; but the man did neither look up nor regard, but 
raked to 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 ? 

Inter. Thon hast said the right, said he; and his 
muck-rake doth show his carnal mind. And whereas 
thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and 
sticks, and the dust of the floor, than to do what He 
says that calls to him from above with the celestial 
crown in his hand ; it is to show, that heaven is but 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 earthly things, 
when they are with power upon men's minds, quite 

Christiana's cari T lneir hearts away from God. 
prayer against the Chr. Then said Christiana, O delivei 
me from this muck-rake, Prov. 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 ten thousand. Straws, and sticks, and 
dust, with most, are the great 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 ; a very 
brave room it was. So he bid them look round about, 



THE SPIDER. 243 

and see if they could find any thing profitable there. 
Then they looked round and round; for there was 
nothing to be seen but a very great spi- • 

° „ . , . , ni Of the spider. 

der 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 any thing 
but an ugly spider, who hangs by her Talk about the 
hands upon the wall. Then said he, Is s P ider - 
there but one spider in all this spacious room ? Then 
the water stood in Christiana's eyes, for she was a 
woman quick of apprehension: 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 king's pa- 
laces." 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. I thought, said Christiana, of something of 
this ; but I could not imagine it 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 



244 THE HEN AND CHICKENS. 

room in the house. God has made nothing in vain. 

Then they seemed all to be glad; but the water 
stood in their eyes : yet they looked one upon another, 
and also bowed before the Interpreter. 

He had them then into another room, where were 

Of the hen and a hen» and chickens, and bid them ob- 
chickens. serve a while. So one of the chickens 

went to the trough to drink ; and every time she drank 
she lifted up her head and her eyes toward heaven. 
See, said she, what this little chick doth, and learn of 
her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by re- 
ceiving them with looking up. Yet again, said he, ob- 
serve and look: so they gave heed, and perceived -that 
the hen did walk in a fourfold method toward her 
chickens : 1. She had a common call, and that she 
hath all day long. 2. She had a special call, and that 
she had but sometimes. 3. She had a brooding note, 
Matt. 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 answerable to 
her, he himself hath his methods which he walketh in 
toward his people. By his common call he gives no- 
thing; by his special call, he always has something to 
give; he has also a brooding voice, for them that are 
under his wing; and he has an outcry, to give the 
alarm when he seeth the enemy come. I chose, my 
darlings, to lead you into the room where such things 
are, because you are women, and they are easy for you. 

Chr. And, sir, said Christiana, pray let us see some 
more. So he had them into the slaughter-house, where 
or the butcher and was a butcher killing a sheep; and be- 
ihe sheep. hold, 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 



THE FIELD. — THE ROBIN AND SPIDER. 245 

without murmurings and complaints. Behold how 
quietly she takes her death, and, without objecting, 
she suft'ereth her skin to be pulled over her ears. Your 
King doth call you his sheep. 

After this he led them into his garden, where was 
great variety of flowers ; and he said, Do ^ , 

„i n o, ™ • • -, Of the garden 

you see all these ? So Christiana said, 
Yes. Then said he again, Behold, the flowers are di 
verse in stature, in quality, and color, and smell, and 
virtue; and some are better than others; also where 
the gardener hath set them, there they stand, and quar- 
rel not one with another. 

Again, he had them into his field, which he had 
sown with wheat and corn : but when ^, , m ,, 

, , , , , , „ ,, -. Of the field. 

they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, 
and only the straw remained, he said again, This 
ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed, but 
what shall we do with the crop ? Then said Chris- 
tina, Burn some, and make muck of the rest. Then 
said the Interpreter again, Fruit, you see, is that thing 
you look for ; and for want of that you condemn it to 
the fire, and to be trodden under foot of men : beware 
that in this you condemn not yourselves. 

Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they 
espied a little robin with a great spider of the rohin and 
in his mouth. So the Interpreter said, the s P ider - 
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 is, 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 harm- 
less matter ; I like him worse than I did. 

The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an em- 
21* 



246 the interpreter's profitable sayings. 

blem, 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 com- 
pany, as if they could live upon the good man's 
crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that 
they frequent the house of the godly, and the appoint- 
ments 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, be- 
cause supper as yet was not ready, 
win get' at that Christiana again desired that the Inter- 
?eveaied et UeS """ P reter would either show, or tell of, 
some other things that are profitable. 

Then the Interpreter began, and said : The fatter 
the sow is, the more she desires the mire ; the fatter 
the ox is, the more gamesomely he goes to the slaugh- 
ter ; and the more healthy the lustful man is, the more 
prone he is unto evil. There is a desire in women to 
go neat and fine ; and it is a comely thing to be adorned 
with that which in God's sight is of great price. 'Tis 
easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a whole 
year together : so 'tis easier for one to begin to profess 
well, than to hold out as he should to the end. Every 
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 ungrateful unto him ; but he that forgets his Savior 
is unmerciful to himself. He that lives in sin, and 



OF THE ROTTEN TREE. 247 

looks for happiness hereafter, is like him that soweth 
cockle, and thinks to fill his barn with wheat or barley. 
If a man would live well, let him fetch his last day to 
him, and make it always his company-keeper. Whis- 
pering, and change of thoughts, prove that sin is in the 
world. If the world, which God sets light by, is count- 
ed 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 go by us, what is 
the life above ! Every body will cry up the goodness 
of men; but who is there that is as he should be, af- 
fected with the goodness of God ? We seldom sit down 
to meat, but we eat, and leave. So there is in Jesus 
Christ more merit and righteousness than the whole 
world has need of. 

When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out 
into his garden again, and had them to ofthe tree that is 
a tree whose inside was all rotten and rotten at heart - 
gone, and yet it grew and had leaves. Then said 
Mercy, What means this? 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, and all 
things set on the board; so they sat 
down, and did eat, when one had given eyar< L supper 
thanks. And the Interpreter did usually entertain those 
that lodged with him with music at meals ; so the min- 
strels played. There was also one that did sing, and 
a very fine voice he had. His song was this : 



248 CHRISTIANA RELATES HER EXPERIENCE. 

The Lord is only my support, 

And he that dotli me feed ; 
How can I then want any thing 

Whereof I stand in need] 

When the song and music were ended the Interprf 
ter asked Christiana, what it was tha. 
first did move her to betake herself to u. 
pilgrim's life. Christiana answered, First, the loss of 

a repetition of m y husband came into my mind, at 
Christiana's expe- which I was heartily grieved ; but all 
that was but natural affection. Then 
after that came the troubles and pilgrimage of my hus- 
band into my mind, and also how like a churl I had 
carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of my 
mind, and would have drawn me into the pond, but 
that opportunely I had a dream of the well-being of 
my husband, and a letter sent by the King of that coun- 
try where my husband dwells, to come to him. The 
dream and the letter together so wrought upon my 
mind that they forced me to this way. 

Inter. But met you with no opposition before you 
set out of doors ? 

Chr. Yes, a neighbor of mine, one Mrs. Timorous: 
she was akin to him that would have persuaded my 
husband to go back for fear of the lions. She also be • 
fooled me, for, as she called it, my intended desperate 
adventure; she also urged what she could to dis- 
hearten me from it, the hardship and troubles that my 
husband met with in the way ; but all this I got over 
pretty well. But a dream that I had of two ill-looking 
ones, that I thought did plot how to make me miscarry 
In my journey, that hath troubled me much : yea, it 
•till runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every 
v ne that I meet, lest they should meet me to do me a 



mercy's experience. 249 

itiischief, and to turn me out of my way. Yea, I may 
tell my Lord, though I would not have every body 
know it, that between this and the gate by which we 
got into the way, we were both so sorely assaulted, 
that we were made to cry out murder ; and the two 
that made this assault upon us were like the two that 
I saw in my dream. 

Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good , 
thy latter end shall greatly increase. So he addressed 
himself to Mercy, and said unto her, a question put to 
And what moved thee to come hither, Mer °y- 
sweet heart ? 

Mer. Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a 
while continued silent. 

Inter. Then said he, Be not afraid; only believe, 
and speak thy mind. 

Mercy. So she began, and said, Truly, sir, my want 
of experience is that which makes me 
covet to be in silence, and that also that 
fills me with fears of coming short at last. I cannot 
tell of visions and dreams, as my friend Christiana can ; 
nor know I what it is to mourn for my refusing the 
counsel of those that were good relations. 

Inter. What was it then, dear heart, that hath pre- 
vailed with thee to do as thou hast done ? 

Mer. Why, when our friend here was packing up 
to be gone from our town, I and another went acci- 
dentally to see her. So we knocked at the door and 
went in. 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, wear- 
ing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and drinking 



250 mercy's experience. 

at his Prince's table, and singing praises to Him for 
bringing him thither, &c. Now methought, while she 
was telling these things unto ns, my heart burnea 
within me. And I said in my heart, If this be true I 
will leave my father and my mother, and the land of 
my nativity, and will, if I may, go along with Chris- 
tiana. 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 ; not for that I was unwilling to 
come away, but for that so many of my relations were 
left behind. And I am come with all the desire of my 
heart, and will go, if I may, with Christiana unto her 
husband and his King. 

Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast given 
credit to the truth ; thou art a Ruth, who did, for the 
love 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 Math a people that she knew not here- 
tofore, Ruth, 2: 11, 12. The Lord recompense thy 
work, and 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 
They undress for bed ; the women were laid singly 

themselves for bed. aloilGj and the boys by themselves. 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. So she 
lay blessing and praising God, who had had such favor 
for her. 

In the morning they arose with the sun, and pre- 
pared themselves for their departue: but the Interpre- 
ter would have them tarry a while ; For, said he, you 
must orderly go from hence. Then said he to the 



THE BATH. — THE PILGRIMS ARE SEALED. 251 

damsel that first opened to them, Take them and have 
them into the garden to the bath, and The bath of Sane 
there wash them, and make them clean Nation. 
from the soil which they have gathered by traveling. 
Then Innocent the damsel took them and had them 
into the garden, and brought them to the bath ; so she 
loid them, that there they must wash and be clean, for 
so her Master would have the women to do that called 
at his house as they were going on pilgrimage. Then 
they went in and washed, yea, they and „ ... 

!• , „ -, ' „ They wash in iL 

the boys, and all ; and they came out of 
the bath, not only sweet and clean, but also much en- 
livened, and strengthened in their joints. So when 
they came in, they looked 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 are washed in his bath. So the seal 
was brought, and he set his mark upon ej 
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 added greatly to their beauty, for it 
was an ornament to their faces. It also added to their 
gravity, and made their countenance more lik i t, iose 
of angels. 

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 fetch- 
ed out white raiment, and laid it down 
before him; so he commanded them to They are cbthod * 



252 GrlEAT-HEAKT. 

put it on : it was fine linen, white and clean. Whef! 

the women were thus adorned they seemed to be a 

terror one to the other 5 for that they 

'< True humility. . j . . * 

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, said one ; and 
You are more comely than I, said another. The chil- 
dren also stood amazed, to see into what fashion they 
were brought. 

The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his ; 
one Great-Heart, and bid him take sword, and helmet, 
and shield j and, Take these my daughters, said he, 
conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which 
place they will rest next. So he took his weapons, and 
went before them ; and the 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 i 

This place hath been our second stage : 

Here we have heard and seen 
Those good things, that from age to age 

To others hid have been. 

The aungliill-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 

Mo 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 servo the Lord with fear. 



THEY COME TO THE CR0S3. 253 

Now I saw in my dream, that they 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 ; and here also they blessed God. Now, said 
Christiana, comes to my mind what was said to us at 
the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word 
and deed; by word, that is, by the promise; by deed, 
to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the promise 
is, of that I know something; but what it is to have 
pardon by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, 
?»Ir. Great-Heart, I suppose you know, wherefore, if 
you please, let us hear you discourse thereof. 

Great. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained 
by some one for another that hath need . 

J A comment upon 

thereof; not by the person pardoned? what was said at 
but in the way, saith another, in which cour g se te of our i>e 
I have obtained it. So then, to speak to i? h f rist justified bv 
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 has 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 
yieed 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 speak, is one 
that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one 
person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be di- 
vided Unto each of these natures a righteousness be- 
22 



254 Of OUR BEING JUSTIFIED BY CHRIST. 

longeth, and each righteousness is essential to thatna' 
ture ; so that one may as easily cause the nature to be 
extinct as to separate its justice or righteousness from 
it. Of these righteousnesses therefore we are not made 
partakers, so as that they 3 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 righteous- 
ness of the manhood, as distinguished from the God- 
head; but a righteousness which standeth in the union 
of both natures, and may properly be called the righte- 
ousness that is essential to his being prepared of God 
to the capacity of the mediatory office, which he was 
to be intrusted With. If he parts with his first right- 
eousness, he parts with his Godhead ; if he parts with 
his second righteousness, he parts with the purity of 
his manhood ; if he parts with this 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 re- 
vealed will ; and that is it that 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. 

Chr.. But are the other righteousnesses of no use 
to us? 

Great. Yes; for though they are essential to his 
natures and offices, and cannot be communicated unto 
another ; yet it is by virtue of them that the righteous- 
ness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The 
righteousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obe- 



OF OUR BEING JUSTIFIED BY CHRIST. 255 

dience; the righteousness of his manhood giveth capa- 
bility to his obedience to justify ; and the righteousness 
that standeth in the union of these two natures to his 
office, giveth authority to that righteousness to do the 
work for which it 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 without it. Again, 
here is a righteousness that Christ, as God-man, has no 
need of; for he is perfectly so without it. Here then 
is a righteousness that Christ, as God, and as God-man, 
has no need of with reference to himself, and therefore 
he can spare it ; a justifying righteousness, that he 
for himself wanteth not, and therefore giveth it away. 
Hence it is called the gift of righteousness. This right- 
eousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made him- 
self 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, Rom. 5 : 17. Wherefore he must, 
or ought, by the law, if he hath two coats, to give one 
to him that hath none. Now our Lord indeed hath two 
coats, one for himself, and one to spare ; wherefore he 
freely bestows one upon thoso that have none. And 
thus, Christiana and Mercy, and the rest of you that 
are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or by the 
work of another man. Your Lord Christ is he that 
worked, and hath given away what he wrought for to 
tke next poor beggar he meets. 

But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must 
something be paid to God as a price, as well as some- 
thing prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered 
us up to the just curse of a righteous law : now from 
this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, 



256 OF OUR BEING JUSTIFIED BY CHRIST. 

a price being paid for the harms we have dor e ; and 
this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood 
in your place and stead, and died your death for your 
transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your 
transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted 
and deformed souls with righteousness, Rom. 8 : 34 ; for 
the sake of which, God passed by you, and will not 
hurt you when he comes to judge the world, Gal. 3 : 13« 
Chr. This is brave ! Now I see that there was some- 
ci.ristiana affected thing to be learned by our being par- 

SJyjS*!^ of doned b y word and deed - Good Mere y> 

let us labor to keep this in mind: and, 
my children, do you remember it also. But, sir, was 
not this it that made my good Christian's burden fall 
from off his shoulder, and that made him give three 
leaps for joy? 

Great. Yes, it was the belief of this that cut off 

those strings that could not be cut by 

3? »£* o&S other means ; and it was to give him a 

nan's burden to proof of the virtue of this, that he was 

him were cut. * ' 

suffered to carry his burden to the cross. 
Chr. I thought so ; for though my heart was light- 
some and joyous before, yet it is ten times more light- 
some and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what 
1 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 merry and blithe. 

Great. There is not only comfort and the ease of a 
How affection to burden brought to us by the sight and 
Christ is begot in consideration of these, but an endeared 
affection begot in us by it ; for who can, 
f he doth but once think that pardon comes not only 
oy promise, but thus, but be affected with the way and 



ADMIRATION OF THE GRACE OF CHRIST. 25? 

means of his redemption , and so with the man that 
wrought it for him 1 

Chr. True, methinks it makes my heart bleed, to 
think that he should bleed for me. Oh ! thou loving 
One : Oh ! thou blessed One. Thou deservest to have 
me ; thou hast bought me. Thou deservest to have me 
all : thou hast paid for me ten thousand cause of admira- 
tiines more than I am worth. No mar- tiou - 
vel that this made the tears stand in my husband's 
eyes, and that it made him trudge 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 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 af- 
fections ; will it, think you, be always thus with you ? 
Besides, this is not communicated to every one, not 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 ground, and yet were so far off this, that, instead 
of lamenting, they laughed at him and, instead of be- 
coming his disciples, did harden their hearts against 
him. So that all that vou have, my 

, . , , , " ,. ■ To be affected with 

daughters, you have by peculiar mi- Christ, and with 
pression made by a divine contempla- Jjfjjjjj ^JjJJ 8 ' 
ting 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 therefore by a special grace. 
22* 



258 SIMPLE, SLOTH, AND PRESUMPTION HANGING. 

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. 
o- . a . u j Mer. Then said Mercy to him that 

Simple, Sloth, and • . _ ' ___ 

Presumption hang- was their guide and conductor, vv hat 

ed ; and why. ^ Q ^^ three men jj and for wh&t are 

they hanged there ? 

Great. These three were men of bad qualities ; 
they had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and 
whomsoever they could, they hindered. They were 
for sloth and folly themselves, and whomsoever they 
could persuade they made so too, and withal taught 
them to presume that they should do well at last. 
They were asleep when Christian went by, and now 
you go by, they are hanged. 

Mer. But could they persuade any to be of their 
opinion ? 

Great. Yes, they turned several out of the way, 
There was Slow-pace that they pei- 

Their crimes. . _ , .-,,,- .. _, . 

suaded to do as they. They also pre 
vailed 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 
bought up an ill-report of your Lord, persuading 
others that he was a hard taskmaster. They also 
brought up an evil report of the good land, 'saying it 
was not half so good as some pretended it was. 
They also began to vilify his servants, and to count 
the very best of them meddlesome, troublesome, busy- 
bodies. Further, they would call the bread of God 
husks j the comforts of his children, fancies; the 



THEY REACH THE HILL DIFFICULTY. 259 

travel and labor of pilgrims, things to no purpose. 

Chr. Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they 
shall never be bewailed by me : they have but what 
they deserve 5 and I think it is well that they stand so 
near the highway, that others may see and take warn- 
ing. But had it not been well if their crimes had been 
engraven in some plate of iron or brass, and left here 
where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to other 
bad men? 

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 before we came 
hither : who knows else what they might have done 
to such poor women as we are. Then she turned it 
into a song, saying. 

Now then 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 opposer6 are. 

Thus they went on till they came to the foot of the 
hill Difficulty, where 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 ft . g difficuk ^ 
is dirty with the feet of some that are ting of good doc- 
not desirous that pilgrims here should $£,* erroneoua 
quench their thirst, Ezek. 34: 18, 19. 
Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow 1 But, 



260 THE TWO BY-WAYS. 

said the 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 com- 
panions 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 
The paths, though since stopped up with chains, posts, and 

keeplirfJomgoiTg a dltch > ^ et there afe th ° Se that WiU 

in them. choose to adventure here rather than 

take the pains to go up this hill. 

Chr. " The way of transgressors is hard," Prov. 13 ; 
15. It is a wonder that they can get into these ways 
without danger of breaking their necks. 

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 are in the 
wrong way, and do bid them beware of the danger ; 
then they will railingly return them answer, and say, 
" As for the word that thou hast spoken unto us in 
the name of the King, we will not hearken unto thee ; 
but we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth out 
of our mouths," Jer. 44 : 16, 17. Nay, if you look a 
little further, you will see that these ways are made 
cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, 
and chain, but also by being hedged up : yet they 
will choose to go there. 

Chr. They are idle ; they love not to take pains • 



THE ARBOR ON THE HILL. 261 

up-hill way is unpleasant to them. So m 

. ._,, , , . . . The reason why 

it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, some do choose to 
"The way of the slothful man is as a go ia by " ways - 
hedge of thorns," Prov. 15 : 19. Yea, they will ra- 
ther choose to walk upon a snare, than go up this hill, 
and the rest of this way to the city. 

Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill 
and up the hill they went. But before The bill puts the 
they got to the top, Christiana began to P il § rims to u - 
pant, and said, I dare say this is a breathing hill ; no 
marvel if they that love their ease more than their 
souls choose to themselves a smoother way. Then 
said Mercy, I must sit down : also the least of the 
children began to cry. Come, come, said Great-heart, 
sit not down here ; for a little above is the Prince's 
arbor. Then he took the little boy by the hand, and 
led him up thereto. 

When they were come to the arbor they were very 
willing to sit down, for they were all in They sit in the 
a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, arbor - 
' : How sweet is rest to them that labor," Matt. 11 :28 ; 
and how good is the Prince of pilgrims to provide 
such resting places for them ! Of this arbor I have 
heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here let 
us beware of sleeping ; for, as I have heard, it cost 
poor Christian dear. 

Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, 
my pretty boys, how do you do ? what think you now 
of going on pilgrimage? Sir, said the The little boys 
least, I was almost beat out of heart ; ^St'anddso^ 
but I thank you for lending me a hand, Merc y- 
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 I 



2t>2 THE PILGRIMS REFRESHED. 

had rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill 
Jo death. 

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. That's a good 
boy, said his master ; thou hast given her a right an- 
swer. Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush. 
Chr. Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, a 
They refresh little to sweeten your mouths while you 

themselves. g ^ J iere to regt y 0ur \ e g S 1 f or J have 

here a piece of pomegranate, which Mr. Interpreter 
put it into my hand just when I came out of his door : 
he gave me also a piece of a honeycomb, and a little 
bottle of spirits. I thought he gave you 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 com- 
panion. 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 ars- 
swered, You are going on pilgrimage, and presently 1 
shall return ; much good may what you have do to 
you : at home I eat the same every day. Now when 
they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little 
longer, their guide said to them, The day weara 
away ; if you think good, let us prepare to be going. 
So they got up to go, and the little boys went before ; 
Chriniann forgets but Christiana forgot to take her bottle 
ber bottle of epirits. f spirits with her, 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 here 



CHRISTIANA FORGETS HER BOTTLE OF SPIRITS. 263 

Christiana left her bottle behind her : sir, what is the 
cause of this ? So their guide made answer, and said, 
The cause is sleep, or forgetfulness : some sleep when 
they should keep awake, and some forget when they 
should remember; and this is the very cause why 
often at the resting-places some pilgrims, in some 
things, come off losers. Pilgrims should watch, and 
remember what they have already received, under 
their greatest enjoyments; but for want of doing so, 
ofttimes their rejoicing ends in tears 
and their sunshine in a cloud ; witness 
the story of Christian at this place. 

When they were come to the place where Mistrust 
and Timorous met Christian, to persuade him to go 
back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were a 
stage, and before it, toward the road a broad plate with a 
copy of verses written thereon, and underneath the 
reason of raising up that stage in that place rendered. 
The verses were these : 

Let hiin that sees this stage, take heed 

Unto his heart and tongue ; 
Lest, if he do not, here he speed 

As some have long agoue. 

The words underneath the verses were, "This 
stage was built to punish those upon, who, through 
thnorousness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go further 
on pilgrimage. Also, on this stage both Mistrust and 
Timorous were burned through the tongue with a 
hot iron, for endeavoring to hinder Christian on his 
journey." 

Then said Mercy, This is much like to the saying 
of the Beloved, " What shall be given unto thee, or 
what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue? 



264 GRIM, THE GIANT, AND THE LIONS. 

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, the boysj 

: , . ,. that went before, were now glad to 

An emblem of ' & 

those that go on cringe behind, for they were afraid of 
is ra no danger, but the lions j so they stepped back, and 
shrink when trou- went behind. At this their guide 

bles come. ° 

smiled, and said, How now, my boys 
do you love to go before when no danger doth ap 
proach, and love to come behind so soon as the lion;* 
appear 1 

Now as they went on Mr. Great-heart drew hi< 

sword, with intent to make a way for the pilgrims in 

of Grim the spite of the lions. Then there appeared 

giant, and of his one that, it seems, had taken upon hin» 

•Sacking the lions. {q ^ ^ ^^ ^ he ^ t() ^ 

pilgrims guide, What is the cause of your coming 
hither? Now the name of that man was Grim, cr 
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 this is the 
way they must go ; and go it they shall, in spite of 
thee and the lions. 

Grim. This is not their way, neither shall they go 
therein. I am come forth to withstand them, and to 
that end will back the lions. 

Now, to say truth, by reason of the fierceness of 
the lions, and of the grim carriage of him that did 
back them, this way of late had been much unoccu- 
pied, and was almost all grown over with grass. 



GRIM BACKS THE LIONS. — IS SLAIN. 2G5 

Chr. Then said Christiana, Though the highways 
have heen unoccupied heretofore, and though the 
travellers have been made in times past to walk 
through by-ways, it must not be so now I am risen, 
now I am arisen a mother in Israel, Judges, 9, 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 approach 

unto Grim, and laid so heavily at him A fiffht betwixt 

with his sword, that he forced him to Gr 'm °<™<i Great- 
heart. 

a 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 his 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 
lie 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 off an arm. Then 
did the giant roar so hideously that his voice fright- 
ened the women, and yet they were glad to see him 
lie sprawling upon the ground. Now ■ 

, . -, t . , Tho victory. 

the lions were chained, and so of them- 
selves could do nothing. Wherefore, when old Grim, 
that intended to back them, was dead, Mr. Great-heart 
said to the pilgrims, Come now, and follow me, and 
no hurt shall happen to you from the lions. They 
therefore went on, but the women Theypassby the 
trembled as they passed by them ; the lions - 
boys also looked as if they would die ; but they all 
got by without further hurt. 
Now when they were within sight of the Porter's 
23 



2G6 THEY REACH THE PORTER'S LOLGE. 

lodge, they soon came up unto it, but they made the 
more haste after this to go thither, because it is dange- 
rous travelling there in the night. So when they 

They come to we ' re come to the gate the guide knock- 
the Porter's lodge. e( j j and the Porter cried, Who is there ? 
But as soon as the guide had said, It is I, he knew his 
voice, and came down, for the guide had oft before 
that come thither as a conductor of pilgrims. When 
he was come down he opened the gate; and seeing 
the guide standing just before it, (for he saw not the 
Women, for they were behind him,) he said unto him, 
How now, Mr. Great-heart, what is your business 
here so late to-night? I have brought, answered he, 
some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord's command- 
ment, they must lodge : I had been here some time 
ago, had I not been opposed by the giant that did use 
to back the lions. But I, after a long and tedious 
combat with him, have cut him ofTj and have brought 
the pilgrims hither in safety. 

Por. Will you not go in, and stay till morning? 

Great-heart at- GREAT. No, I Will return tO my Lord 
tempts to go back, to-night. 

Chr. 0, sir, I know not how to be willing you 
should leave us in our pilgrimage, you have been so 
faithful and so loving to us ; you have fought so 
stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in counselling 
of us, that I shall never forget your favor toward us, 

Mer. Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy 

Thc P iignm S im- com P an y to our journey's end! How 
piore his company can such poor women as we hold out in 
a way so full of troubles as this way 
is, without a friend and defender ? 

James. Then said James, the youngest of the boys, 
Pray, sir, be persuaded to go with us, and help us, be- 



GREAT-HEART LEAVES TIIEM. 267 

cause 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 willing- 
ly wait upon you. But here you failed at first ; for 
when he bid me come thus far with Help lost for wui 
you, then you should have begged me of of as ^ B 8 for iL 
him to go quite through with you, and he would have 
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 Christiana of 
her country, and of her kindred. And she said, I 
come 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 chil- 
dren ; and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my towns- 
women. 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 Christiana, 
the wife of Christian, and her children, are come 
hither on pilgrimage. She went in therefore, and told 
it. But oh, what noise for gladness was Jovat the 
there within when the damsel did but of the pilgrims 
drop that word out of her mouth ! 

So they came with haste to the Porter, for Chris- 
tiana 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 very large room, where they were bid- 



268 THE PILGRIMS ENTERTAINED. 

den to sit down : so they sat down, and the chief of the 
house were called to see and welcome the guests. 
Then they came in, and understanding who they were, 

Christians' love did salute each one with a kiss, and said, 
^I'r'ofoV'auo! Welcome, ye vessels of the grace of 
t; ^ r - God ; welcome to us, your friends. 

Now, because it was somewhat late, and because the 
pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also 
made faint with the sight of the fight, and of the ter- 
rible lions, therefore 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 ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they 
might go to rest. But let us, said Christiana, if we may 
be so bold as to choose, be in that chamber that was 
my husband's when he was here ; so they had them 
up thither, and they lay all in a room. When they 
were at rest, Christiana and Mercy entered into dis- 
course about things that were convenient. 

Cur. Little did I think once, when my husband 

Christ's bosom is went on pilgrimage, that I should ever 

for all pilgrims. ] mve followed. 

Mer. And you as little thought of lying in his bed, 
and in his chamber to rest, as you do now. 

Chr. And much less did I ever think of seeing his 
face with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord, the 
King, with him ; and yet now I believe I shall. 
Mer. Hark ! don't you hear a noise? 

. Chr. Yes, it is, as I believe, a noise 

of music, for joy that we are here. 



mercy's dream. 269 

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 them- 
selves to sleep. 

So in the morning when they were awake, Chris- 
tiana said to Mercy, What was the mat- Mercy did imgh 
ter that you did laugh in your sleep to- in her sleep, 
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 soli- 
tary place, and was bemoaning of the 
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 I 
said. So they hearkened, and I went on bemoaning 
the hardness of my heart. At this some of them 
laughed at me, some called me fool, and some began 

tO thrust me about. With that, me- What her dream 

thought I looked up and saw one com- was - 
ing with wings toward me. So he came directly to me, 
and said Mercy, what aileth thee ? Now when he had 
heard me make my complaint, he said, Peace be to 
thee ; he also wiped 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 
lie went up, and I followed till we came at a golden 
gate. Then he knocked ; and when they within had 
opened, the man went in, and I followed him up to a 
throne, upon which one sat; and he said to me, Wel- 
23* 



270 mercy's dream. 

come, daughter. The place looked bright and twink 
ling, like the stars, or rather like the sun, and I thought 
that I saw your husband there : so I awoke from m> 
dream. But did I laugh ? 

Chr. Laugh ! ay, and well you might to see your- 
self so well. For you must give me leave to tell you, 
that I believe it was a good dream; and that as you 
have begun to find the 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 slumber- 
ings 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 speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, or b\ 
signs and similitudes, as well as if one was awake. 

Mer. Well, I am glad of my dream ; for I hope ere 
Mercy glad of her long to see it fulfilled, to the making me 
dream. laugh again. 

Chr. I think it is now time to rise, and to kno\r 
what we must do. 

Mer. Pray, if they invite us to stay a while, let us 
willingly accept of the proffer. I am the more willing 
to stay a while 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 war 
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 per 



THE PILGRIMS STAY SOME TIME. 271 

suaded to stay here a while, you shall have what the 
house will afford. 

Char. Ay, and that with a very good will, said 
Charity. So they consented, and stayed They stay here 
there about a month, or above, and be- 60me Ume - 
came very profitable one to another. And because 
Prudence would see how Christiana had brought up 
her children, she asked leave of her to Pru(lence desires 
catechise them. So she gave her free t° catechise cims- 

_,, , , • i .i liana's children. 

consent. Then she began with the 
youngest, whose name was James. 
Prud. And she said, Come James, . ,. , 

nl ' , , ' James catechised 

canst thou tell me who made thee? 

James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the 
Holy Ghost. 

Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saves 
thee? 

James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the 
Holy Ghost. 

Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Fa- 
ther save thee? 

James. By his grace. 

Prud. How doth God the Son save thee ? 

James. By his righteousness, death and blood, and 
life. 

Prud. How doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? 

James. By his illumination, his renovation, and his 
preservation. 

Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be 
commended for thus bringing up your children. I sup 
pose 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 



272 THE CHILDREN CATECHISED. 

. , , was Joseph.) will you let me catechise 

Joseph catechised. „ r ' 7 

you ? 

Joseph. With all my heart 

Prcd. What is man ? 

Joseph. A reasonable creature, so made by God, as 
my brother said. 

Prud. What is supposed by this word, saved 1 

Joseph. That man, by sin, has brought himself into 
a state of captivity and misery. 

Prud. What is supposed by his being saved by the 
Trinity ? 

Joseph. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant 
that none can pull us out of its clutches but God ; and 
that God is so good and loving to man, as to pull him 
indeed out of this miserable state. 

Prud. What is God's design in saving poor men? 

Joseph. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, 
and justice, &c. and the everlasting happiness 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 
son but one : 

. , . Prud. Come, Samuel, are you willing 

Samuel catechised. ,_,,,',. J 

that 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. 

Prud. What is hell? 

Sam. A place and state most woful, because it is the 
dwelling-place of sin, (he devil, and death. 



THE CHILDREN CATECHI8ED. 273 

Prdd. Why wouldst thou go to heaven ? 

Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without 
weariness; that I may see Christ, and love him 
everlastingly ; that I may have that fullness of the 
Holy Spirit in me which I can by no means here 
enjoy. 

Prdd. A very good boy also, and one that has learn- 
ed well. 

Then she addreseed herself to the eldest, whose 
name was Matthew; and she said to Matthew cate- 
him, Come, Matthew, shall I also cate- chised - 
chise you 1 

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. 

Matt. No, for God is eternal ; nor is there any thing, 
excepting himself, that had a being, until the begin- 
ning of the first day. For in six days the Lord made 
heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is. 

Prdd. What do you think of the Bible ? 

Matt. It is the holy word of God. 

Prdd. Is there nothing written therein but what you 
understand ? 

Matt. Yes, a great deal, 

PnuD. What do you do when you meet with such 
places therein that you do not understand ? 

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. 

Prdd. How believe you as touching the resurrection 
of the dead ? 

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 account : first, because 



274 CLOSING REMARKS BY PRUDENCE. 

God has promised it; secondly, because he is able to 
perform it. 
Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still 
Prudence's con- hearken to your mother; for she can 

elusion upon the teach you mQre# YOU lUUSt also dill- 
catecbisiug of the J 

i>oy t . gently give ear to what good talk you 

shall hear from others ; for, for your sakes do they speak 
good things. Observe also, and that with carefulness, 
what the heavens and the earth do teach you ; but es- 
pecially be much in the meditation of that book which 
was the cause of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, 
for my part, my children, will teach you what I can 
while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask 
me questions that tend to godly edifying. 

Now by that these pilgrims had been at this place 
a week, Mercy had a visitor that pretended some good 
M«rcy has a sweet- will unto her, and his name was Mr. 
* cart - Brisk ; a man of some breeding, and that 

pretended to religion, but a man that stuck very close 
to the world. So he came once, or twice, or more, to 
Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of 
a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. 

Her mind also was to be always busying of herself 
in doing ; 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 knowing where or how she dis- 
posed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, 
for that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a 
good housewife, quoth he to himself. 

Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens 
M . . . that were of the house, and inquired of 

Mercy inquires of ' * 

the maid* concern- them concerning him, for they did 

iiig Mr. Brisk. fa|0W him beUer than ghe gQ ^ ^ 



TALK BETWIXT MR. BRISK AND MERCY. 273 

ner 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 great 
matter of discouragement to be given to him ; her con- 
tinuing so as she had begun to do for the poor would 
quickly cool his courage. 

So the next time he came he finds her at her old 
work, making things for the poor. Then Talk betwixt Mcr- 
said he, What ! always at it ? Yes, said c * and Mr - 1Jrisk - 
she, either for myself or for others. And what canst 
thou earn a day ? said he. I do these things, replied 
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 lay hold on eternal life, 1 Tim. 
6 : 17 — 19. Why, pr'ythee, what doest thou with them ? 
said he. Clothe the naked, said she. lie forsakes her, 
With that his countenance fell. vSo he and wh y- 
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? yea, he 
will raise up an ill report of thee ; for, notwithstanding 
his pretence to religion, and his seem- MercyintIieprac _ 
ing love to Mercy, yet Mercy and he are * lce °J ™« re y T re 

° J ' J Tii- jected, while Mer- 

of tempers so different that I believe C y in the name of 
they will never come together. raercy is liked> 

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 agree. 



270 MR. BRISK LEAVES MERCV. 

Prud. Mercy in our days is little set by any further 
than as to its name : the practice, which is &et 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 

Mercy's resolution. u u j r r 

shall be to me as a husband ; for I can- 
not change my nature : and to have one who lies cross 
to me in this, that 1 purpose never to admit of as long 
How Mercy's sis- as I ^ ve - I na( ^ a sister named Bounti- 
ior was served by f u i that was married to one of these 

her husband. , ' ., , , n , , _ 

churls, but he and she could never 
agree ; but because my sister was resolved to do as she 
had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, there- 
fore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and 
then turned her out of his doors. 

Prud. x\nd yet he was a professor, I warrant you? 

Mer. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he 
the world is now full : but I am for none of them all* 

Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, 
„ . , „ . , and his sickness was sore upon him, for 

Matthew falls sick. . , .,.,.. , 

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 Christiana desired it, and they sent for him, and he 
came. When he was entered the room, and had a lit- 
Gripes of con- ^ e observed the boy, he concluded that 

science. he wag sjck Qf the gripes# Then he gaid 

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 tampering 
The physician's with something that lies in his stomach 
judgment. undigested, and that will not away with- 

out means. And I tell you he must be purged, or else 
he will die. 



MATTHEW FALLS SICK.— THE GRIPES. 2Tf 

Sam. Then said Samuel, Mother, what was that which 
my brother did gather and eat as soon Samuel puts his 
%s we were come from the gate that is ™ otl V er L n ? in i of 

& the fruit his bro- 

at the head of this way ? You know that ther did eat. 
there 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, I 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 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 ? 

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 hinty 
whatever it costs. 

Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. So he 
made him a purge, but it was too weak ; it was said it 
was made of the blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, 
and some of the juice of hyssop, Heb. 9 : 13, 19; 10 : 
I — 1. When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was 
too weak, he made him one to the purpose. It was 
made ex came et sanguine Chr^isti* John The Latin I bor- 
6 : 54—57 ; Heb. 9 : 14 ; (you know phy- row - 
sicians give strange medicines to their patients;) and 
it was mide into pills, with a promise or two, and a 

* Of the flesh and blood of Christ 

24 



278 THE POWERFUL MEDICINE MR. SKILL GIVES HIM. 

proportionable quantity of salt, Mark 9 : 49. Now he 

was to take them three at a time, fasting, in half a 

quarter ofa pint of the tears of repentance, Zech. 12: 10. 

When this potion was prepared, and brought to the 

The boy loth to boy, he was loth to take it, though torn 

take the physic. ^[(^ t ] ie g r ip es as if h e should be pulleO 

in pieces. Come 5 come, said the physician, you must 
take it. It goes against my stomach, said the boy. ) 
must have you take it, said his mother, I shall vomil 
it up again, said the boy. Pray, sir, said Christiana to 
Mr. Skill, how does it taste? It has no ill taste, said 
the doctor; and with that she touched 

The mother tastes ' ... 

it and persuades one of the pills with the tip of her tongue. 
Oil, Matthew, said she, 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 rest quietly; it put 
him into a fine heat and breathing sweat, and did quite 
a word of God in rid him of his gripes. So in a little time 
the hand of faith. he got upj an( i walked about with a staff, 
and would go from room to room, and talked with 
Prudence, Piety, and Charity, of his distemper, and 
how he was healed. 

So when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. 
Skill, saying, Sir, what will content you for your pains 
and care to and of my child ? 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? 

Skill. It is a universal pill ; it is good against all 



MATTHEW RESTORED. — THE UNIVERSAL PILL. 279 

diseases that pilgrims are incident to ; T h e P ui a univer- 
and when it is well prepared it will keep sal reuled y 
good, time out of mind. 

Chr. Pray, sir, make me up twelve boxes of them ; 
for if I can get these, I will never take other physic. 

Skill. These pills are good to prevent diseases, as 
well as to cure when one is sick. Yea, I dare say it, 
and stand to it, that if a man will but use this physic 
a3 he should, it will make him live for ever, John, 
6 : 58. But good Christiana, thou must give these pills 
no other way than 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, 
if at any time they would, they should 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 physic „ m . 

.*,,,,. , Of physic. 

should be bitter to our palates. 

Prdd. 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 ? 

Prdd. To show that the word, when it works effec 
tually, 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 offire, and of the 
the beams and sweet influences of the 6U "* 
sun strike downward ? 

Prdd. By the going up of the fire we are taught to 



280 TALK OF PRUDENCE AND MATTHEW. 

ascend to heaven by fervent and hot desires. And by 
the sun sending his heat, beams, and sweet influences 
downward, we are taught that the Savior of the world, 
though high, reacheth down with his grace and love 
to us below. 

Matt. Where have the clouds their 

Of the clouds. n 

water ? 

Prud. Out of the sea. 

Matt. What may we learn from that ? 

Prud. That ministers should fetch their doctrine 
from God. 

Matt. W T hy do they empty themselves upon the 
earth ? 

Prud. To show that ministers should give out what 
they know of God to the world. 

Matt. Why is the rainbow caused by 

Of the rainbow. , ' * 

the sun ? 
Prud. To show that the covenant of God's grace is 
confirmed to us in Christ. 

Matt. W r hy do the springs come from 

Of the epnngs. , -, . * ° . _ 

the sea to us through the earth ? 

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 upon 

Of the candle. . ,. . * r 

the candle-wick ? 

Prud. To show that unless grace doth kindle upon 
the heart, there will be no true light of life in us. 

Matt. Why are the wick, and tallow and all, spent 
10 maintain the light of the candle? 



PETITION SENT FOR GKEAT-HEART. 281 

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 pierce ^ r , 

, ..-.-. ..„« Of the pelican. 

her own breast with her bill? 

Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blood, 
and thereby to show that Christ the blessed so loveth 
his young, (his people,) as to save them from death 
by his blood. 

Matt. What may one learn bv hear- _, . 

J " Of the cock. 

ing the cock to crow ? 

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 terrible day of judgment. 

Now about this time their month was out ; where- 
fore they signified to those of the house, that 'twas 
convenient for them to up and be going. Then said 
Joseph to his mother, It is proper that you forget not 
to send to the house of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him to 
grant that Mr. Great-Heart should be The weak may 
sent unto us, that he may be our con- sometimes call the 

j xi ;. s /-iju strong to prayers. 

ductor the rest of our 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. Interpreter ; 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 
they had a purpose to go forward, they They provide to be 
called the whole house together, to give e one on their way. 
thanks to their King for sending of them such profit- 
able guests as these. Which done, they said unto 
24* 



282 THE SIGHTS SHOWN TO THE PILGRIMS. 

Christiana, And shall we not show thee something as 
our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest 
meditate when thou art upon the way ? So they took 
Christiana, her children, and Mercy, into the closet, 
and showed them one of the apples that 
Eve ate of, and that which 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 know not which. So they opened 
the matter to her, and she held up her hands and won- 
dered, Gen. 3:6; Rom. 7 : 24. 
Then they had her to a place and showed her Jacob's 
ladder, Gen. 28 : 12. Now at that time 

Jacob's ladder. _ , . . 

there were some angels ascending upon 
it. So Christiana looked and looked to see the angels 
go up ; so did the rest of the company. Then they 
were going into another place, to show them some- 
thing else ; but James said to his mother, Pray bid 
a sight of Christ them stay here a little longer, for this is 
is taking. a cur ious sight. So they turned again, 

and stood feeding their eyes with this so pleasing a 
prospect, John, 1 : 15. 
After this they had them into a place where did 
_,_ , hang up a golden anchor. So they bid 

Golden anchor. _,, 7 . , • , n ■ ■, , 

Christiana take it down ; for, said they, 
You shall have it with you, for it is of absolute neces- 
sity, that you may lay hold of that within the veil, 
Heb. 6 : 19; and stand steadfast in case you should 
meet with turbulent weather, Joel, 3 : 16; so they were 
glad thereof. 

Then they took them, and had them to the mount 
or Abraham >ffer- upon which Abraham our father offered 
ing up Isaac. _ U p j saac hj s sonj an( j showed them the 



MR. GREAT-HEART COMES AGAIN. 283 

altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife, for they remain 
to be seen to this very day, Gen. 22 : 9. When they 
had seen it. they held up their hands, and blessed them- 
selves, and said, Oh ! what a man for love to his Mas- 
ter, and for denial to himself, was Abraham I 

After they had showed them all these things, Pru- 
dence took into a dining-room, where prudence's vir- 
stood a pair of excellent virginals;* so s' l °^. 
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. Mr. Great-Heart 
Great-Heart was there : but when he comes a e ain - 
was come in, what joy was there ! For it came now 
afresh again into their minds how but a little while 
ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man, the giant, and 
had delivered them from the lions. 

Then said Mr. Great-Heart to Christiana and to 
Mercy, My Lord has sent each of you a He brings a |oken 
bottle of wine, and also some parched from his Lord with 
corn, together with a couple of pome- ' im ' 
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 

* A musical instrument for ycung women. 



284 THE PILGRIMS GO ON THEIR JOURNEY. 

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 high- 
way as you go. But, said he, the thieves are taken, 
and will shortly be tried for their lives. Then Chris- 
tiana and Mercy were afraid; but Matthew said, Mo- 
ther, fear nothing as long as Mr. Great-Heart is to go 
with us, and to be our conductor. 
Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much 

Christiana takes obli S ed t0 y° u for a11 the kindnesses that 
her leave of the you have showed me since I came hither ; 
and also for that you have been so lov- 
ing and kind to my children. I know not how to gratify 
your kindness j wherefore, pray, as a token of my re- 
spect to you, accept of this small mite. So she put a gold 
angel* in his hand ; and he made her low obeisance, and 
The Porter's bless- said, "Let thy garments be always 
h, s- white; and let thy head want no oint- 

ment," Eccles. 9 : 8. Let Mercy live and not die, and 
let not her works be few, Deut. 33 : 6. And to the boys 
he said, Do you fly youthful lusts, and follow after god- 
liness 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. 

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 forgot 
what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her 
compinions: I will go back and fetch it. So she ran 
and fe \ hed it. While she was gone Christiana thought 

• A gok angel was a coin of the value of ten shillings sterling, and ac- 
cording to the comparative value of money in Bunyan's time, equal at 
least to a g linea at the present time. 



THE BIRDS SINGING. — PIETY'S PRESENT. 285 

she heard in a grove a little way off on the right hand, 
a most curious melodious note, with words much like 
these : 

Through all my life thy favor is 

So frankly show'd to me, 
That in thy house for ever more 

My dwelling-place shall be. 

And listening still, she thought she heard another 
answer it, saying, 

For why ? The Lord our God is good •, 

His mercy is for ever sure ; 
His truth at all times 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, an- 
swered she, our country birds : they sing these notes 
but seldom, except it be at the spring, when the flow- 
ers 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 ofttimes 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, desirous to be in. 

By this time Piety was come again. So she said to 
Christiana, Look here, I have brought Piet y bestoweth 
thee a scheme of all those things that something on them 
thou hast seen at our house, upon which a partlDg ' 
vhou mayest look when thou findest thyself forgetful, 
and call those things again to remembrance for thy 
edification and comfort. 

Now they began to go down the hill into the Valley 
of Humiliation. It was a steep hill, and the way was 
slippery ; but they were very careful ; so they got 
ilown pretty well. When they were down in the val- 



286 THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION. 

ley Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where 
Christian, your husband, met with that foul fiend 
Apollyon, and where they had that dreadful fight 
that they had : I know you cannot but have heard 
thereof. But be of good courage ; as long as you 
have here Mr. Great-heart to be your guide and con- 
ductor, we hope you will fare the better. So when 
these two had committed the pilgrims unto the con- 
duct of their guide, he went forward, and they went 
after. 
Great. Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not be 

Mr Great-heart s0 a ^ ra ^ °f tms valley, for here is no- 
at the Vaiiey of thing to hurt us, unless we procure it to 
ourselves. It is true that Christian here 
did meet with Apollyon, with whom he had also 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 they hear that some 
frightful thing has befallen 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 doings that such things do befall them 

The reason why there. This Valley of Humiliation is of 

.^etin theTalleV ltSelf aS frUltM a P laCe * S ^ thp 

of Humiliation. crow flies over ; and I am persuaded, if 
we could hit upon it, we might find somewhere here- 
about something that might give us an account why 
Christian was so hardly beset in this place. 

Then James said to his mother, Lo, yonder stands 
a pillar, and it looks as if something was -written 
thereon ; let us go and see what it is. So they went, 
and found there written, " Let Christian's slips before 



THE VALLEY OP HUMILIATION. 287 

he came hither, and the battles that he A pi nar with ^ 
met with in this place, be a warning to inscription on it. 
those that come after." Lo, said their guide, did not I 
tell you that there was something hereabouts that 
would give intimation of the reason why Christian 
was so hard beset in this place ? Then turning him- 
self to Christiana, he said, No disparagement to Chris- 
tian more than to many others whose hap and lot it 
was. For it is easier going up than down this hill, 
and that can be said but of few hills in all these 
parts of the world. But we will leave the good man ; 
he is at rest : he also had a brave victory over his ene- 
my. 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 Humilia- 
tion. It is the best and most fruitful This va u ey a 
piece of ground in all these parts. It brave P lace - 
is fat ground, and as you see, consisteth much in mea- 
dows ; and if a man was to come here in 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 
beautified with lilies, Song, 2:1. I have also known 
many laboring men that have got good estates in this 
Valley of Humiliation ; for God resisteth the proud, 
but giveth grace to the humble, James, _, l . . , 

6 _ & .. „ T , ,.,. Men time in the 

4: 6; 1 Pet. 5: 5. Indeed it is a very Vaiiey of HuniMa- 
fruitful soil, and doth bring forth by tIon * 
handfuls. Some also have wished that the next way 
to their Father's house were here, that they might be 
troubled no more with either hills or mountains to go 
over ; but the way is the way, and there's an end. 
Now as they were going along and talking, thev 



288 the shepherd's boy singing. 

espied a boy feeding his father's sheep. The boy Was 
in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-favored 
countenance j and as he sat by himself he sung. Hark, 
said Mr. Great-heart, to what the shepherd's boy saith 
So they hearkened, and he said, 

Ho that is down, needs fear no fall 

He that is low, no pride : 
He that is humble, ever shall 

Have God to be his guide. 

I am content with what I have, 

Little be it or much; 
And, Lord, contentment still I crave-, 

Because thou aavest such. 

Fulness to such a burden is, 

That go on pilgrimage ; 
Here little, and hereafter bligs, 

Is best from age to age. 

Then said their guide, Do you hear him ? I will 
dare to say this boy lives a merrier life, and wears 
more of that herb called heart's-ease in his bosom, 
than he that is clad in silk and velvet. But we will 
proceed in our discourse. 

In this valley our Lord formerly had his country- 
Christ when in the hoUSe : he l0Ved much t0 be her6 - He 

flesh had his coun- loved also to walk these meadows, for 
vaneyof HumiUa- fte found the air was pleasant. Besides 
tion - here a man shall be free from the noise, 

and from the hurryings of this life : all states are full 
of noise and confusion; only the Valley of Humilia- 
tion 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 into a bi isk 



FORGETFUL GREEN. 289 

encounter, 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 his 
country-house, and that he loved here to walk ? 1 
will add :— in this place, and to the people that love 
an 1 trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, 
to be faithfully paid them at certain seasons, for their 
maintenance by the way, and for iheir further en- 
couragement to go on in their pilgrimage. 

Sam. Now as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. 
Great-heart, Sir, I perceive that in this valley my fa- 
ther and Apollyon had their battle ; but whereabout 
was the fight 7 for I perceive this valley is large. 

Great. Your father had the battle with Apollyon at 
a place yonder before us, in a narrow v 

. , ,, , , „ Forgetful Green. 

passage, just beyond 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 else in Humility a sweet 
all our journey: the place, methinks, gTace - 
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 
25 



290 THE PLACE V.'HERE CHRISTIAN FOUGHT. 

molestation, be thinking what he is, whence he carne^ 
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 Heshbon, Song, 7 : 4. They that go right- 
ly through this valley of Baca, make it a well ; the 
rain that God sends down from heaven upon them 
that are here, also filleth the pools. This valley is 
that from whence also the King will give to his their 
vineyards, and they that go through it shall sing, as 
Christian did for all he met with Apollyon, Psalm 84 : 
5—7; Hos.2:15. 

Great. 'Tis true, said their guide ; I have gone 

An experiment through this valley many a time, and 
upon lU 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 place where the afore- 
mentioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to 
Christiana, her children, and Mercy, This is the place • 

The place where 011 this S™und Christian stood, and 
Christian and the up there came Apollyon against him. 

licild fliJ fight. iii x ti * r a ^^ n 1 

And, look, did not I tell you ? 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 Apol- 
lyon's broken darts. See also how they did beat the 
Some signs of ground with their feet as they fought, 
the battle remain. to mak^ good their places against each 
other; how also v;itn their by-blows they did split the 
*'ery stones «r. pieces. Verily, Christian did here play 






THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 291 

the man, and showed himself as stout as Hercules 
could, had he been here, even he himself. When 
Apollyon was beat, he made 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 stands a monument on which is en- A monument of 
graven this battle, and Christian's victo- christian's victory. 
ry, to his fame throughout all ages. So because it 
stood just on the way-side before them, they stepped 
to it, and read the writing, which word for word was 
this : 

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 valle)', they 
thought that they heard a groaning as 

„ , . T Groanings heard. 

of dying men ; a very great groaning. 
They thought also that they did hear words of lamen- 
tation, 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 them be of 
good comfort. 



292 THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 

So they went on a little further, and they thought 
_ ', that they felt the ground begin to shake 

The ground shakes. . * ° b 

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 j lest haply, said he, you be 
taken in some snare. 
Now James began to be sick ; but I think the cause 
James sick with thereof was fear : so his mother gave 
fear - 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 such 

The fiend appears. r _ . _. 

a shape as I have not seen. Then said 

Joseph, Mother, what is it? An ugly thing, child; an 

ugly thing, said she. But, mother, what was it like? 

said he. 'Tis like I cannot tell what, said she; and 

The pii-rims are now it is but a little way off. Then 

ftfraid - said she, It is nigh. 

Well, well, said Mr. Great-heart, let them that ate 

Great heart en- most afraid keep close to me. So the 

courages them. fiend came ^ ^ ^ conductor met 

it ; but when it was just come to him it vanished to 
all their sights. Then remembered they what had 
been said some time ago, " Resist the devil, and he 
will flee from you," James, 4: 7. 

They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed. 
But they had not gone far before Mercy, looking be- 
hind her, saw, as she thought, something most like a 



THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 293 

lion, and it came a great padding 
pace after; and it had a hollow voice 
of roaring ; and at every roar that it gave, it made all 
the valley echo, and all their hearts to ache, save the 
heart of him that was their guide. So it came up, 
and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the pil- 
grims all before him. The lion also came on apace, 
and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him 
battle, 1 Pet. 5 : 8, 9. But when he saw that it was 
determined that resistance should be made, he also 
drew back, and came no further. 

Then they went on again, and their conductor 
went before them, till they came to a place where was 
cast up a pit the whole breadth of the 

r f ' - A pit and darkness. 

way; and before they could be prepared 
to go over that, a great mist and a darkness fell upon 
them, so that they could not see. Then said the pil- 
grims, Alas ! what now shall we do ? But their guide 
made answer, Fear not, stand still, and see what an end 
will be put to this also : so they stayed there, because 
their path was marred. They then also thought that 
they did hear more apparently the noise and rush- 
ing of the enemies ; the fire also, and smoke of the 
pit, were much easier to be discerned. Then said 
Christiana to Mercy, Now I see what Christiana now 
my poor husband went through. I JJXId fei? her 
have heard much of this place, but I 
never was here before now. Poor man ! he went here 
all alone in the night ; he had night almost quite 
through the way ; also these fiends were busy about 
him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many 
have spoken of it ; but none can tell what the Valley 
of the Shadow of Death should mean until they come 
in it themselves. The heart knoweth its own bitter- 
25* 



294 THEY PRAY IN THE VALLEY. 

ness ; and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy, 
Prov. 14 : 10. To be here is a fearful thin£. 

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, 1 
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 de- 
liverance. 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 let _ 

i • iii They pray. 

in 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 being here as at the gate, or at the 
Interpreter's, or at the house where we lay last. 

O but, said one of the boys, it is not so bad to go 
through here as it is to abide here al- one of the boy* 
ways; and for aught I know, one rea- Te ^y- 
son 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 
spoken like a man. Why, if ever I get out here 



GIANT MAUL. 295 

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 they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to 
the end of this valley as yet ? Then said the guide, 
Look to your feet, for we shall presently be among the 
snares : so they looked to their feet, and went on ; but 
they were troubled much with the snares. Now when 
they were come among the snares they espied a man 
cast into the ditch on the left hand, with" his flesh all 
rent and torn. Then said the guide, needless i 8 slain, 
that is one Heedless, that was going this and Take-heed 
way : he has lain there a great while. pre * 
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 
f>eart of his own, or else he could never have done it. 

Now they drew toward the end of this way ; and 
mst where Christian had seen the cave when he went 
by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. Ma ui, a giant, 
This Maul did use to spoil young pil- quarrels with 

. . j i. 11 j Great-heart. 

grims with sophistry ; and he called 
Great-heart by his name, and said unto him, How 
oiany times have you been forbidden to do these 
things? Then said Mr. Great-heart, What things? 
What things ? quoth the giant ; you know what 
things : but I will put an end to your trade. 

But pray, said Mr. Great-heart, before we fall to it, 
let us understand wherefore we must fight. Now the 
women and children stood trembling, and knew not 



296 BATTLE WITH GIANT MAUL. 

what to do. Quoth the giant, You rob the country, 
and rob it with the worst of thefts. These are but 
generals, said Mr. Great-heart; come to particulars, 
man. 

Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft oi 

God's ministers a kidnapper ; thou gatherest up women 
counted as kidnap- an d children, and carriest them into a 
strange country, to the weakening 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 endeavor to turn men, women, and chil- 

The giant and dren 5 from darkness to light, and from 
Mr. Great-heart the power of Satan unto God ; and if 
this be indeed the ground of thy quar- 
rel, 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. 

«r , , „ , Great-heart down upon one of his 

Weak folks' ___, \ 

prayers at some knees. With that the women and 
foZcS. strong children cried out. So Mr. Great- 
heart recovering himself, laid about 
him in full lusty manner, and gave the giant a wound 
in his arm. Thus he fought for the space of en 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 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 



THE GIAI^T SLAIN BY GREAT-HEART. 297 

both fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart, with a blow, 
fetched the giant down to the ground. The giant struck 
Nay, hold, let me recover, quoth he. dowu ' 
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 began to faint, and He is slain, and h> 8 
could hold up his club no longer. head dis P os ed of. 
Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smote 
the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then 
the women and children rejoiced, 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 
wrote under it in letters that passengers might read: 

He that did wear this head was onp 

Tnat 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. 

Now I saw that they went on to the ascent that was 
a little way off, cast up to be a prospect for pilgrims. 
That was the place from whence Christian had the 
first sight of Faithful his brother. Wherefore, here 
they sat down and rested. They also here did eat 
and drink, and make merry, for that they had gotten 
deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy. As they 
sat thus and did eat, Christiana asked the guide if he 
had caught no hurt in the battle. Then said Mr. 



298 DISCOURSE OF THE FIGHT. 

Great-heart, No, save a little on my flesh ; yet Cmt 
also shall be so far from being to my detriment, that 
it is at present a proof of my love to my Master and 
you, and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my 
reward at last. 

Chr. But were you not afraid, good sir, when yon 
saw him come with his club ? 

Great. It is my duty, said he, to mistrust my own 

Discourse of the ■Mlityi that I may have reliance on Him 
fi s ht - who is stronger than all. 

Chr. But what did you think when he fetched } r ou 
down to the ground at the first blow ? 

Great. Why, I thought, replied he, that so my 
Master himself was served, 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 please, 
- , , I think God lias been wonderful good 

Matthew here ad- ...... . , . 

mires God's good- UlltO US, both 111 bringing US Ollt Of thlS 

heS8 ' 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 place as this, given us such tes- 
timony of his love. Then they got up, and went 
(or ward. 

Now a little before them stood an oak. and under it, 
when they came to it, they found an old pilgrim fast 
old Honest nsieop asleep. They knew that he was a pil- 
under an oak. grim, 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 ? and what is your 
business here? 

Great. Come, man, be not so hot; here are none 



"THE PILGRIMS MEET OLD HONEST. 299 

but friends. Yet the old man gets up, 0ne 8aim somfl . 
and stands upon his guard, and will times takes ano^ 

, _ . r , , „. . n tlier for his enemy. 

know of them what they are. Then said 

'.he 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 
ieared that you had been of the compa- Talk between 
ny of those that some time ago did rob Great-heartandhe. 
Little-faith of his money; but, now I look better" 
fcbout me, I perceive you are honester people. 

Great. Why, what would or could you have 
done to have helped yourself, if indeed we had been 
of that company ? 

Hon. Done ? 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, old pilgrim, 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 knowest 
what true pilgrimage is; for all others think that Ave 
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 tell you ; but I came 
from the town of Stupidity: it lieth whence Mr. Ho- 
about four degrees beyond the city of nest came - 
Destruction. 

Great. Oh? Are you that countryman? Then I 
deem 1 have half a guess of you : your name is old 
Honesty, is it not ? 



300 DISCOURSE WITH OLD HONEST. 

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 ? 

Great. I had heard of you before by my Master, 

Stupified ones are f ° r he kll0W * a11 thi »g S that are d ° ,1ft 

worse than those n the earth. But I have often won- 
sre jr earn . fl ere( j tnat ail y 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 moun- 
tain of ice, yet if the Sun of Righteousness should 
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. 

Cur. Then said Christiana, My name I suppose 
you have heard of; good Christian was my husband, 
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, he 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 hus- 
band rings all over these parts of the world : his faith, 
his courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, 
have made his name famous. Then he turned him to 



OLD HONEST BLESSES THE PILGRIMS. 30 1 

the boys, and asked them of their names, which they 
told him. Then said he unto them, Matthew, be thou 
like Matthew the publicaiij not in vice 3 oid Mr. Honesfs 
but in virtue, Matt. 10 : 3. Samuel, said ble ^ g on them, 
he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faitli 
and prayer, Psalm 99 : 6. Joseph, said he, be thou like 
Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that flee.i 
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 

., ,, . . , -, . , He bleseetb Mercys 

the old honest man said, Mercy is thy ,, 
name : by mercy shalt thou be sustained and carried 
through all those difficulties that shall assault thee in 
thy way, till thou shalt come thither where thou 
shalt look the Fountain of mercy in the face witli 
comfort. All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, 
was very well pleased, and smiled upon his com- 
panion. 

Now, as they walked along together, the guide asked 
the old gentleman, if he did not know Talk of one Mr. 
one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrim- Fearin e- 
age 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 met with in 
all my days. 

Great. I perceive you knew him, for you have 
given a very right character of him. 

Hon. 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* 

26 



302 TALK ABOUT MR. FEARlNC, THE PILGRIM, 

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 afraid that he should 
«, — .*.•, come short of whither he had a desire 

Mr. Fearing s 

troublesome pil- to go. Every thing frightened him that 

griniagc. he heard aQy body gpeak Q ^ Jf j fc had ^ 

the least appearance of opposition in it. I have heard 
■ , that he lay roaring at the Slough of 

His behavior at _ , „ J . ° , ° , 

the Slough of Des- Despond for above a month together ; 
v ° ad ' nor durst he, for all he saw several go 

over before him, venture, though they many of them of- 
fered to lend him their hands. He would not go back 
again neither. The celestial 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 Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sun- 
shiny morning, I don't know how, he ventured, and 
so got over ; but when he was over, he would scarcely 
believe it. He had, I think, a Slough of Despond in 
his mind, a slough that he carried every where with 
him, or else he could never have been as he was. So 
he came up to the gate, you know what I mean, that 
stands at the head of this way, and there also he 
His behavior at stood a good while before he would 
the gate. ■ venture to knock. When 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 



TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 303 

before some to the gate, yet many of them went in 
before him. There the poor man would stand shalx 
ing 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, after he had been entertained 
there awhile, as you know how the manner is, he was 
bid go on his way, and also told the way he should 
take. So he went on till he came to our house ; but 
as he behaved himself at the gate, so he did at my 
Master the Interpreter's door. He lay His behavior at the 
there about in the cold a good while, interpreter's door, 
before he would adventure to call ; yet he would 
not go back: and the nights were long and cold 
then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom 
to my Master to receive him, and grant him the com- 
fort of his house, and also to allow him a stout and 
valiant conductor, because he was himself so chicken- 
hearted a man ; and yet for all that he was afraid to 
call at the door. So he lay up and down thereabouts, 
till, poor man, he was almost starved ; yea, so great 
was his dejection, that though he saw several others 
for knocking get in, yet he was afraid to venture. At 
last, I think I looked out of the window, and per- 
ceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I 



304 TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 

went out to him, and asked what he was ; but, poor 
man, the water stood in his eyes ; so I perceived what 
he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in the 
house, and we showed the thing to our Lord : so he 
sent me out again, to entreat him to come in ; but I 
dare say, I had hard work to do it. At last he came in ; 

How he was en- and I will say that for my Lord, he car- 
tertahied there. Yie ^ j t 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 his 
desire should be granted. So when he had been there 
a good while, he seemed to get some heart, and to 

He is a little en- D e a little more comforted. For my 
courage.dat the in- Master, you must know, is one of very 
terpre '" tender bowels, especially to them that 

are afraid ; wherefore he carried it so toward him as 
might tend most to his encouragement. Well, when 
lie had had a sight of the things of the place, and 
was ready to take his journey to go to the city, 
my Lord, as he did to Christian before, gave him 
a bottle of spirts, and some comfortable 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 the place where the three 

He was greatly f eHcnvs were hanged, he said that he 
afraid when he saw doubted that that would be his end also, 
cheery' when he Only lie seemed glad when he saw the 

.aw the cros*. CrQSS anJ {he Sepu l cnre# Tnere T con . 

fess he desired to stay a little to look ; and 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 



TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 305 

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 ac- 
quainted with the damsels of the place ; but he was 
ashamed to make himself much in company. He de- 
sired much to be alone ; yet he always Dumpish at the 
loved good talk, and often would get house Beautiful - 
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 Humiliation, „ . , 

' -f _ ' Pleasant in the 

he went down as well as ever I saw a VaiieyofHumiiia- 
man in my life ; for he cared not how tlou ' 
mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I 
think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that val- 
ley and him ; for I never saw him better in all his pil- 
grimage than he was in 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 Val- 
ley of the Shadow of Death, I thought I , f , , , . 

,',,,, ' ° Much perplexed in 

should have lost my man : not for that the Valley of the 
he had any inclination to go back ; that Shadow of Death ' 
he always abhorred; but he was ready to die for fear. 
Oh, the hobgoblins will have me ! the hobgoblins will 
have me ! cried he ; and 1 could not beat him out of it. 
He made such a noise, and such an outcry here, that 
26* 



306 TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 

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 : we will 
therefore only mention a passage or two more. When 

His behavior at he was come to Vanity Fair, I thought 
Vanity Fair. he wou {d h ave fought with all the men 
in the fair. I feared there we should have been both 
knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fool- 
eries. Upon the Enchanted Ground he was very wake- 
ful. But when he was come at the river where was no 
bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, 
now, he said, he should be drowned for ever, and so 
never see that face with comfort that he had come so 
many miles to behold. 

And here also I took notice of what was very re- 
markable : 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 

His boldness at up to the gate I began to take leave of 
lafiU him, and to wish him a good reception 

above. So he said, I shall, I shall. Then parted we 
asunder, and I saw him no more. 

Hon. Then it seems he was well at last? 

Great. Yes, yes, I never had a doubt about him. 
He was a man of a choice spirit, only he was always 
kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome 
to 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 



TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 307 

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? 

Great. There are two sorts of reasons for it. One 
is, the wise God will have it so : some ' ' 

' Reasons why good 

mUSt pipe, and SOme mUSt Weep, Matt, men are so in the 

11 : 16. Now Mr. Fearing was one that dark - 
played upon the bass. He and his fellows 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 profession 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 imper- 
fection of Mr. Fearing ; he could play upon no other 
music but this, till toward his latter end. 

[I make bold to talk thus metaphorically for the ri- 
pening of the wits of young readers, and because, in 
the book of the Revelation, the saved are compared to 
a company of musicians that play upon their trum- 
pets and harps, and sing their songs before the throne, 
Rev. 5 : 8 ; 14 : 2, 3-1 

Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see 
by the relation which you have given of him. Diffi- 
culties, 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 you ■■ 

■ •" ' A close about him. 

have well observed, arose from the 



308 TALK ABOUT MR. FEARING, THE PILGRIM. 

weakness of his mind thereabout, not from weakness 
of spirit as to the practical part of a pilgrim's life. I 
dare believe that, as the proverb is, he could have bit a 
firebrand, had it stood in his way ; but the things with 
which he was oppressed, no man ever yet could shake 
off with ease. 

Chr. Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. 
Christiana's sen- Fearing has done me good : I thought 
tenc0 - nobody had been like me. 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 hard upon him, they made him that he 
could not knock at the houses provided for entertain- 
ment ; but my trouble was always such as made me 
knock the louder. 

Mer. If I might also speak my heart, I must say 
that something of him has also dwelt in 

Mercy's sentence. ° 

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 that 
Matthew's sen- niade me think that I was far from 
lence - 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 
there is not always grace where there 

James's sentence. . . - -, .. - . t 

is the fear 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 



TALK ABOUT SELF-WILL. 309 

to be sure, they that want the beginning have neither 
middle nor end. But we will here conclude our dis- 
course 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 1 

Would others do so too ! 
For, as for them that want thy wit, 

They do themselves undo. 

Now I saw that they still went on in their talk. For 
after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fear- 
ing, Mr. Honest began to tell them of another, bat his 
name was Mr. Self-will. He pretended 

,. iri u -, . -j tit tt Of Mr. Self-will. 

himself to be a pilgrim, said Mr. Honest; 

but I persuade myself he never came in at the gate that 

stands at the head of the way. 

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-willed. He oid Honest had 
neither cared for man, nor argument, talketl with him - 
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 sup- 
pose you can tell. 

Hon. He held that a man might follow the vices as 
well as the virtues of pilgrims ; and that - self-will's opi- 
if he did both, he should be certainly nions 
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 pilgrims, he could not much have been 



310 TALK OF SELF-WILL. 

blamed ; for indeed we are exempted from no vice ab- 
solutely, 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 allowable so to be. 

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 be- 
loved ; and therefore he could do it. He said, to have 
more women than one was a thing that Solomon prac- 
tised, and therefore he could do it. He said, that Sarah 
and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did saved 
Rahab, and therefore he could do it. He said, that the 
disciples went at the bidding of their Master, and took 
away the owner's ass, and therefore he could do so too. 
He said, that Jacob got the inheritance of his father 
in a way of guile and dissimulation, and therefore he 
could do so too. 

Great. High base indeed ! And are you sure he was 
of this opinion? 

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 al- 
lowance 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 Or SELF-WILL- 311 

Great. But what more false than such a cOnclu 
sion? For this is as much as to say, that because 
good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, there- 
fore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind ; 
or that if, because a child, by the blast of the wind, or 
for that it stumbled at a stone, fell down and defiled 
itself in the mire, therefore he might wilfully lie down 
and wallow .^ke 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. 
Again, 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 c.u 
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 opinion 
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 against 
such things, is bad ; yet to sin, and plead a toleration 
so to do, is worse : the one stumbles beholders acci- 
dentally, the other leads them into the snare. 

Hon. There are many of this man's mind, that have 
not this man's mouth; and that makes going on pil- 
grimage of so little esteem as it is. 

Great. You have said the truth, and it is to be la- 
mented : but he that feareth the king of paradise shall 
tome out of them all. 



312 TALK ABOUT SOME PROFESSORS 

Chris. There are strange opinions in the world* ! 
know one that said, it was time enough to repent when 
we come to die. 

Great. Such are not over-wise; that man would 
have been loth, might lie have had a week to run 
twenty-miles in his life, to defer his journey to the last 
hour of that week. 

Hon. 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 I 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 wilderness, and so never got 
sight of the promised land. I have seen some that 
have promised nothing at first setting out to be pil- 
grims, and who one would have thought could not 
have lived a day, that have yet proved very good pil- 
grims. I have seen some who have run hastily for^ 
ward, that again have, after a little time, run just as 
fast back again. I have seen some who have spoken 
very well of a pilgrim's life at first, that after a while 
have spoken as much against it. I have heard some, 
when they first set out for paradise, say positively, 
there is such a place, w r ho, 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 
r Fresh news of one running to meet them, and said, 
trouble. Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, 

if you love life, shift for yourselves, for the robbers 
are before you. 



THE PILGRIMS REACH THE HODSE OF GAIUS. 313 

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 Great-heart's re~ 
on their way. Now they looked at every s ° lutlon - 
turning when they should have met with the villains j 
but whether they heard of Mr. Great-heart, or whether 
they had some other game, they came not up to the 
pilgrims. 

Christiana then wished for an inn to refresh herself 
and her children, because they were Christiana wishe§ 
weary. Then said Mr. Honest, There for an iun - 
is one a little before us, where a very honorable dis- 
ciple, one Gaius dwells, Rom. 16 : 23. So they all con- 
cluded to turn in thither; 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. Then Gaius entertain* 
were Christiana, Mercy, and the boys, them > and how - 
the more glad, for that the innkeeper 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 ? for these pilgrims have 
come far to-day, and are weary. 

Gaius. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conve- 
niently 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 
27 



314 THE PILGRIMS AT GAIUs's HOUSE. 

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-good, to 

Gaius's cook. , ... 

get ready supper for so many pilgrims. 

This done, he came up again, saying, Come, my good 

friends, you are welcome to me, and I 

lie coaiee up again. ' " 

am glad that I have a house to enter- 
tain you in; and while supper is making ready, if yon 
please, let us entertain one another with some good 
discourse ; so they all said, Content. 

Gaius. Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this aged 
Talk between Gaius matron? and whose daughter is this 
and his guests. young damsel ? 

Great. This woman is the wife of one Christian, a 
a pilgrim of former times; and these are his four chil- 
dren. The maid is one of her acquaintance, one that 
she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. 
The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread 
in his steps : yea, if they do but see any place where 
the old pilgrim hath lain, or any print of his foot, it 
ministereth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie 01 
tread in the same. 

Gaius. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian's wife, and 
Of Christian's an- are these Christian's children? I knew 
cestors - your husband's father, yea, also his fa- 

ther's father. Many have been good of this stock ; their 
ancestors dwelt first at Anlioch, Acts, 11 : 26. Chris 
tian's progenitors (I suppose you have heard your hus- 
band talk of them) were very worthy men. They have, 
above any that I know, showed themselves men oi 
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 



THE PILGRIMS AT GAICS's HOUSE. 315 

trials for the sake of the truth. 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 no- 
thing 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 Polycarp, that played 
the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up 
in a basket in the sun for the wasps to eat; and he 
whom they put into a sack, and cast into the sea to be 
drowned. It would be impossible utterly to count up 
all of that family who have suffered injuries and death 
for the love of a pilgrim's life. Nor can I but be glad 
to see that thy husband has left behind him four such 
boys as these. I hope they will bear up their father's 
name, and tread in their father's steps, and come to 
their father's end 

Great. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads: they seem 
to choose heartily their father's ways. 

Gaids. That is it that I said. Wherefore Christian's 
family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of 
the ground, and yet to be numerous Advice to Chris> 
upon the face of the earth ; let Chris- tiana about her 
tiana look out some damsels for her 
sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c. that the 
name of their father, and the house of his progenitors, 
may never be forgotten in the world. 

Hon. 'Tis pity his family should fall and be extinct. 

Gaics. 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 this inn-keeper, I am 
glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a 



316 THE PILGRIMS AT GAIDS's HOUSE. 

lovely couple. And if I may advise, take Mercy into 
a nearer relation to thee : if she will, let her be given to 
Matthew thy eldest son. It is the way to preserve a 
posterity in the earth. So this match was concluded, 
. ... and in process of time they were mar- 

A n>atc!i between r J 

Mercy aud Mat- ried : 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, Gei:. 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 ab- 
_ ,, hor the act of the mother, this sex in 

W hy women of old ,-.,,„, %*".%'■% ■ » 

«o mucii desued the Old Testament coveted children, if 
children. 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 man ever gave unto Christ so much as 
one groat; but the women followed him, and minis- 
tered to him of their substance, Luke, 8 : 2, 3. 'Twas a 
woman that washed his feet with tears, Luke, 7 : 37 — 
GO ; and a woman that anointed his body to the burial, 
John, 11 : 2; 12 : 3. They were women who wept 
when he was going 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 sepul- 
chre 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. Women therefore are highly fa- 
vored, and show by these things that they are sharers 
with us in the grace of life. 



THE SUPPER. 317 

Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was 
almost ready, and sent one to lay the Q 

, , , • ' . . Supper ready. 

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 as What ig to be 
the laying of the trenchers, and the set- thered from lay- 
ting of salt upon the board, when com- whh^cioth'and 
pared with the feast which our Lord will tren chers. 
make for us when we come to his house. 

So supper came up. And first a heave-shoulder and 
a wave-breast were set on the table before them ; to 
show that they must begin the meal with prayer and 
praise to God. The heave-shoulder 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; Judg. 9 : 13; John, 15 : 5. 
So Gaius 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 
may grow thereby, 1 Pet. 2 : 1, 2. A di8h of mi,k - 

Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and 
27* 



318 THE SUPPER. 

Of honey and honey. Then said Gaius, Eat freely of 
butter. t hj S) f or ^jg j s g 00f j t cheer up and 

strengthen your judgments and understandings. This 
was our Lord's dish when he was a 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 up a dish of apples, and they 
. ,. , were very good tasted fruit. Then said 

A dish of apples. -,/,-„ , 

Matthew, May we eat apples, since it 
was they by and with which the serpent beguiled our 
first mother? 
Then said Gaius : 

" Apples were they with which we were beguil'd 5 
" Yet sin, not app'.es, 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 lovo." 

Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because 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 presented 
with another dish, and it was a dish of 

A dish of nuts. ™« • 1 

nuts, Song 6:11. Then said some at 
the table, Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth 
of the 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 we are crack- 
ing your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle: 



old honest's riddle. 319 

A man there was, though some did count him mad, \ riddle put forth 
The more he cast away, the more he had. by old Honest. 

Then they all gave good heed, wondering what 
good Gaius 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. ' 

Then said Joseph, I dare say, sir, I 
did not think you could have found ° sep 
it out. 

Oh ! said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way 
a great while : nothing teaches like experience. I 
have learned of my Lord to be kind, and have found 
by experience that I have gained thereby. There is 
that scattereth, and yet increaseth j and there is that 
withholdeth more than is meet, but it tendeth to pover- 
ty. There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath no- 
thing : there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath 
great riches, Prov. 11 : 24 ; 13 : 7. 

Then Samuel whispered to Christiana, his mother, 
and said, Mother, this is a very good man's house ; let 
us stay here a good while, and let my brother Mat- 
thew be married here to Mercy, before we go any fur- 
ther. The which Gaius, the host, over-hearing, said, 
With a very good will, my child. So they stayed here 
more than a month, and Mercy was Matthew and 
given to Matthew to wife. While they Meh; y m ""ed. 
stayed here, Mercy, as her custom was, made coats 
and garments to give to the poor, by which she 
brought a very good report upon the pilgrims. 

But to return again to our story. After supper the 
lads desired a bed, for they were weary Tie boys goto 
with travelling. Then Gaius called to bed, the rest S it up. 



320 MR. great-heart's riddle. 

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, 
_„4_ themselves, and their journey, old Mr. 

Old Honest nods. TT • , ' : I -V., ., -jji 

Honest, he that put forth the riddle to 
Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great-heart, What, 
Sir, you begin to be drowsy ; come, rub up, here is a 
riddle for you. Then said Mr. Honest, let us hear it. 
Then replied Mr. Great-heart : 

A riddle ** c "*** w '" ^'H, must first be overcome : 

Who live abroad would, first must die at home. 

Ha ! said Mz , 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 to 
you : do you expound it, and I will hear what you say. 

No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is expected 
you should answer it. Then said the old gentleman 

He first by grace must conquered be, 
That sin would mortify : 
The riddle opened. Who that he lives would convince me 

Unto himself must die. 

It is right, said Gams ; good doctrine and experi 
ence teach this. For first, until grace displays itself, 
and overcomes the soul with its glory, it is alto- 
gether without heart to oppose sin. Besides, if sin is 
Satan's cord, by which the soul lies bound, how should 
it make resistance before it is loosed from that infir- 
mity ? Secondly, Nor will any one that knows either 
reason or grace believe that such a man can be a 
living monument of grace that is a slave to his own 
a question worth corruption. And now it comes into my 
the minding. mind, I will tell you a story worth tho 



A COMPARISON. 321 

hearing. 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 corr 
ruptions to grapple with; the old man's were weak 
with the decays of nature. The young man trod his 
steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as 
light as he. Who now, or which of them, had their 
graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike? 

Hon. The young man's doubtless. For that which 
makes head against the greatest opposi- 
tion, gives best demonstration that it is companion, 
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 decays of 
nature for a gracious conquest over corruptions, and 
so have been apt to beguile themselves. Indeed, old 
men that are gracious are best able to give advice to 
them that are young, because they have seen most of 
the emptiness of things : but yet, for an old and a 
young 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 corruptions 
are naturally the weakest. Thus they sat talking till 
break of day. 

Now when the family were up, Christiana bid her 
son James read a chapter ; so he read the 53d of Isai- 
ah. When he had done, Mr. Honest . . 

. , , , -, Another question 

asked why it was said that the bavior 

was to come out of a dry ground ; and also that he 

had no form or comeliness in him. 

Great. Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first I 
answer, Because the church of the Jews, of which 



322 GIANT SLAY-GOOD ROBBING MR. FEEBLE-MIND. 

Christ came, had then lost almost all the sap and 
spirit of religion. To the second I say, the words are 
spoken in the person of 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 like those who, not knowing that pre- 
cious 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 dc 
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 were come to the place where he was, 

they found him with one Feeble-mind 

found" 1 with " g ono m his hand, whom his servants had 

Feeble-mind in his brought unto him, having taken him in 

hand. ° » . ° 

the way. Now the giant was rifling 
him, with a purpose after that to pick his bones ; for 
lie was of the nature of flesh-eaters. 

Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his 
friends at the mouth of his cave, with their weapons, 
he demanded what they wanted. 

Great. We want thee ; for we are come to revenge 
the quarrels of the many pilgrims that thou hast slain, 
when thou hast dragged them out of the King's high- 

t 



GREAT-HEART KILLS GIANT SLAY-GOOD. 323 

way : 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 head and The giant a* 
sides, that he made him let his weapon saulled and slaiu - 
fall out of his hand. So he smote him, and slew him, 
and cut off his head, and brought it away to the inn. 
He also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and brought 
him with him to his lodgings. When they 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 fell 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, I thought I should never be 
well at home : so I betook myself to a How Feeble-mind 

.,.,,.- , , n -. , . , came to be a pil- 

pilgrim's life, and have travelled hither grim. 
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 pilgrim's way. When 
I came at the gate that is at the head of the way, the 
Lord of that place did entertain me freely; neither 
objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my 
feeble mind ; but gave me such things as were neces- 



324 MR. feeble-mind's history. 

6ary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. 
When I came to the house of the Interpreter I re- 
ceived much kindness there: and because the Mil of 
Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried 
up it by one of his servants. Indeed, I have found 
much relief from pilgrims, though 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 prepare for an encounter. But, alas ! feeble one 
that I was, I had more need of a cordial ; so he came 
up and took me. I conceited he would not kill me. 
Also when he had got me into his den, since I went 
not with him willingly, I believed I should come out 
„ . . . alive again; for I have heard, that not 

Mark this! ., a . ' , . , .' 

any pilgrim that is taken captive by vio- 
lent hands, if he keeps heartwhole toward his Mas- 
ter, 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 resolved on, to wit, to run 

Mark this! . r , T 

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 be- 
fore 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 ? 



MR. FEEBLE-MIND COMFORTED. 325 

Feeble. Acquainted with him ! Yes, he came from 
the town of Stupidity, which lieth four degrees north- 
ward of the city of Destruction, and as many off of 
where I was born: yet we were well Mr. FeaiingMr. 

. . ' , , . Feeble-mind's un- 

acquainted, for indeed he was my uncle, cie. 

my father's brother. He and I have been much of a 

temper : he was a little shorter than I, but yet we 

were much of a complexion. 

Hon. I perceive you knew him, and I am apt to 

believe also that you were related one „ - . , , 

■* . . Feeble -mind has 

to another ; for you have his vvhitely some of Mr. Fear- 
look, a cast like his with your eye, and iug ' s features - 
your speech is much alike. 

Feeble. Most have said so that have known us both : 
and, besides, what I have read in him I have for the 
most part found in myself. 

Gaius. Come, sir, said good Gaius, be of good cheer ; 
you are welcome to me and to my house. Gaius coa iforu 
What thou hast a mind to, call for him - 
freely ; and what thou wouldst have my servants do 
for thee, they will do it with a ready mind. 

Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is an unexpected 
favor, and as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. 
Did giant Slay-good intend me this fa- Notice t0 be ta _ 
vor when he stopped me, and resolved ken of Providence 
to let me go no further 1 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 - _ . 

nni i . -■ m . Tidings how one 

called at the door, and said, That about Ndt-right was slain 
a mile and a half off there was one Mr. by a +"****- 
Not-right, a pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where 
he was, with a thunderbolt. 
28 



326 MATTHEW ANL JAMES MARRIED. 

Feeble. Alas! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain? 
Mr. Feeble-mind's He overtook me some days before I 
comment upon it. came so far as hither, and would be 

my company-keeper. He also was with me when 
Slay-good the giant took me, but he was nimble of his 
heels, and escaped : but it seems he escaped to die, 
and I was taken to live. 

What would one think doth seek to slay outright, 

Ofttimes delivers from the ttddest 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 lum and life to m©. 

Now about this time Matthew and Mercy were mat 
ried; 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, like as pilgrims use to do. 

When they were to depart, Gaius made them a 
feast, and they did eat and drink, and were merry. 
The pilgrims pre- Now the hour was come that they must 
pure to go forward. be gone . wherefore Mr. Great-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 pay 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, 35. Then said Mr. Great-heart to mm : 

Great. Beloved, thou doest faithfully whatsoever 
thou doest to the brethren, and to 

How they greet ' 

one another at strangers, who have borne witness or 
parting. ^y charity before the church, whom if 

thou yet bring forward on their journey, after a godly 



THE PILGRIMS LEAVE GAIUS's HOUSE. 327 

sort, thou shalt do well, John, 3 : 6. Then Gaius took his 
leave of them all, and his children, and 
particularly of Mr. Feeble-mind. Healsoness to Feebic- 
gave him something to drink by the way. mmd " 

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 come be- Feebie-mmd for 
hind, lest, by reason of my many infir- & oin & bellind - 
mities, 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 offended and made weak at that 
which others can bear. I shall like no „. _ . 

i i • , , „ ,., A . T His excuse for it. 

laughing; I shall like no gay attire; I 
shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay, I am so weak 
a man as to be offended with that which others have a 
liberty to do. I do not know all ike truth : I am a very 
ignorant christian man. Sometimes, if I hear any re- 
joice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I cannot do so 
too. It is with me as it is with a weak man among the 
strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as 
a lamp despised ; so that I know not what to do. " He 
that is ready to slip with his feet is as a lamp despised 
in 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 feeble- Great-heart's com- 
minded, and to support the weak. You mission - 
must needs go along with us ; we will wait for you ; 
we will lend yon our help ; we will deny . ■ . . 

" ,.,, .."'A christian spirit 

ourselves of some things, both opinion- 



328 MR. READY-TO-HALT. 

alive and practical, for your sake : we will not enter 
into doubtful deputations before you ; Ave 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 dis- 
course, 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, How 

earnest thou hither? I was but now complaining that 

Feeble-mind glad l hacl not a suitable companion, but thou 

to see Ready-to- art according to my wish. Welcome, 

welcome, good 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, answered he, though I thank thee for 
thy good will, I am not inclined to halt before I am 
lame. 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, good Mr. 
Feeble-mind. 

Thus therefore they went on. Mr. Great-heart and 
Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children 
went next, and Mr. Feeble-mind came behind, 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 tilings of some that have 

New talk. i ., * 

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 



NEW TALK OF THE PILGRIMS. 329 

Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard work he 
had to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. 
Also I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful 
was put to it by Madam Wanton, with Adam the First, 
and Discontent, and Shame ; four as deceitful villains 
as a man can meet with upon the road. 

Hon. Yes, I believe I have heard of all this ; but in- 
deed good Faithful was hardest put to it with Shame : 
he was an unwearied one. 

Great. Ay ; for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all 
men had the wrong name. 

Hon. But pray, Sir, where was it that Christian and 
Faithful met Talkative % That same was also a nota- 
ble one. 

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 quick- 
ly to find him out. 

Thus they went on till they came to the place where 
Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and pro- 
phesied 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 the troubles which they should meet with at 
Vanity Fair. 

Hon. Say you so ? I dare say it was a hard chapter 
that then he read unto them. 

Great. It was, but he gave them encouragement 
withal. But what do we talk of them ? They were a 
couple of lion-like men • they had set their faces like 
flints. Do not you remember how undaunted they 
were when they stood before the judge? 

Hon. Well : Faithful bravely suffered. 
28* 



330 VANITY FAIR. — MR. MNA30N r S HOUSE. 

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 pray go on; for you are well ac 
quainted 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 ? 

Great. A very arch fellow, a downright hypocrite; 
one that would be religious, which way soever the 
world went ; but so cunning, that he would be sure 
never to lose or suffer for it. He had his mode of re- 
ligion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as 
good at it as he. He would turn from opinion to opi- 
nion; yea, and plead for so doing too. But as far as I 
could learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends , 
nor did I ever hear that any of his children were ever 
of any esteem with any that truly feared God. 

Now by this time they were come within sight of the 
They come within town of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is 
sight of vanity Fair. fc e p t> g w h en they saw that they were 
so near the town, they consulted 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 conductor of pilgrims through this town. Now, I am 
acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, Acts, 21 : 16, a Cy- 
prusian 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 Christiana: 
Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind ; and so they said all. 
Now you must think it was even-tide by that they got 
to the outside of the town; but Mr. Great-heart knew 



MR. mnason's house. 331 

the way to the old man's house. So thither they came ; 
and he called at the door, and the old man within knew 
his tongue as soon as ever he heard it ; so he opened 
the door, and they all came in. Then - 

. , „ i • , TT o -i They enter into 

said Mnason their host, How far have ye oue Mr. Muason'e 
come to-day ? So they said, From the to lodge ' 
house of Gaius your friend. I promise you, said he, 
you have come a good stretch. You may well be wea- 
ry; 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 you welcome ; 
and whatever you want, do but say, and we will do 
what we can to get it for you. 

Hon. Our great want, awhile since, was harbor and 
good company, and now I hope we have They are glad of 

hnih entertainment. 

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 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 to- 
gether until time should come to go to rest. 

Now when they were seated in their places, and 
were a little refreshed after their journey, Mr. Honest 
asked his landlord if there was any store of good peo- 
ple in the town. 

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 ? for 
the sight of good men to them that are Theydesh-etosee 

... . ,., , some of the good 

going on pilgrimage is like the appear- people of the town. 



332 mnason's friends sent for. 

ing of the moon and stars to them 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 friends, Mr. Con- 

Some sent for. ' to / ' ' __ 

trite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Love-saints, Mr. 
Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Penitent, 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 salutation 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 going to mount Zion. But who, quoth he, do 
you think this is? pointing his finger to Christiana. 
It is Christiana, the wife of Christian, that famous 
pilgrim, who, with Faithful his brother, was so shame- 
fully handled in our town. At that they stood 
amazed, saying, We little thought to see Christiana 
whe.n 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 love and serve make 
you as your father, and bring you where he is in 
peace. 

Hon. Then Mr. Honest (when they 
twix°t m Mr. a Hone8t had all sat down) asked Mr. Contrite and 
and Mr. Contrite, ^g restj m wnat p 0S t U re their town was 

at present. 

Contr. 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 



PRESENT STATE OF VANITY FAIR. 333 

that lives in such a place as this, and The fruit of 
has to do with such as we have, has watchfcincM. 
need of an item to caution him to take heed every mo- 
ment of the day. 

Hon. But how are your neighbors now for qui- 
etness 2 

Contr. They are much more moderate now than 
formerly. You know how Christian and Persecutiou not 
Faithful were used at our town ; but of «> . i«>t at Vanity 
late, I say, they have been far more mo- " *" M ° rB 
derate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth as a load 
upon them till now ; for since they burned him, they 
have been ashamed to burn any more. In those days 
we were afraid to walk the streets ; but now we can 
show our heads. Then the name of a professor was 
odious ; now, especially in some parts of our town, 
(for you know our town is large,) religion is counted 
honorable. Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how 
fareth it with you in your pilgrimage ? how stands the 
country affected toward you ? 

Hon. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring 
men ; sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul ; 
sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill; we are sel- 
dom 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 r&ve met with some notable rubs al 
ready, and what are yet behind we know not; but for 
the most part we find it true that has been talked of of 
old, A good man must suffer trouble. 

Contr. You talk of rubs ; what rubs have you met 
with ? 

Hon. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide ; for he 
can give the best account of that. 

Great. We have been beset three or four times al- 



334 TALK ABOUT THE CONFLICTS OF CHRISTIANS. 

ready. 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 ol 
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 were 
enemies to pilgrims ; for we heard that there was a 
notable one thereabouts. Now Gaius knew his haunt 
better than I, because he dwelt thereabout. So we 
looked, and looked, till at last we discerned the mouth 
of his cave : then we were glad, and plucked up our 
spirits. So we approached up to his den ; and lo, 
when we came there, he had dragged, by mere force, 
into his net, this poor man, Mr. Feeble-mind, and was 
about to bring him to his end. But when he saw us, 
supposing, as we thought, he had had another prey, he 
left the poor man in his hole, and came out. So we 
fell to it lull sore, and he lustily laid about him ; but, 
in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and 
his head was cut off, and set up by the way- side, for a 
terror to such as should after practise such ungodli- 
ness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man him- 
self 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 :ny cost, when he 
threatened to pick my bones every moment; and to 
my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart and his 
friends, with their weapons, approach so near for my 
deliverance. 

Holy. Then said Mr. Holy-man. There are two 



CONVERSATION OF THE PILGRIMS. 335 

things that they have need to possess Mr H oiy.man»s 
who go on pilgrimage ; courage, and an speech, 
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. 

Love. Then said Mr. Love-saints, I hope this cau- 
tion is not needful among you: but Mr. Love-saints' 
tiuly there are many that go upon the s P eech - 
road, who rather declare themselves strangers to pil- 
grimage than strangers and pilgrims on earth. 

Dare. Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, 5 Tis true. They 
have neither the pilgrim's weed, nor the Mr. Dare-not- 
pilgrim's courage ; they go not uprightly, lie ' s s pe*«k 
but all awry with their feet ; one shoe goeth inward, 
another outward ; and their hosen are torn ; there is 
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 pilgrims Mr . Penitent's 
like to have that grace upon them and s P eech - 
their Pilgrim's Progress as they desire, until the way 
is cleared of such spots and blemishes. Thus they sat 
talking and spending the time until supper was set 
upon the table, unto which they went, and refreshed 
their weary bodies: so they retired to rest. 

Now they staid in the fair a great while, at the house 
of Mr. Mnason, who in process of time gave his daugh- 
ter Grace unto Sarniel, 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 peo- 
ple of the town, and did them what service they could. 
Mercy, as she was wont, labored much for the poor: 



336 THE MONSTER RETREAT3. 

wherefore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she 
was there 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 fruitful ; so 
that Christian's name, as was said before, was like to 
live in the world. 

While they lay here there came a monster out of 
the woods, and slew many of the people 

A monster. „ . ' _ . . ; 

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 
coining. 

The monster was like unto no one beast on the earth. 
Its body was like a dragon, and it had 
is siape. 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 con- 
ditions to men , and such men as loved 
His nature. ^gj, y lves more tn . iri their souls ac- 
cepted 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 devouring a serpent. 

Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- 
man, Mr. Dare-not-lic, and Mr. Penitent, with their 
weapons, go forth to mret him. Now the monster at 
first was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies 
with great disdain ; but they so bela- 

Ilow he ,s engaged. borcd ^ ^.^ ^^ ^ ^ ^ 

that they made him make a retreat : so they came home 
to Mr. Mnason's house again. 



TUE PILGRIMS LEAVE VANITY FAIR. 337 

The monster, you must know, had his certain sea- 
sons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon 
the children of the people of the town. At these sea- 
sons did these valiant worthies watch him, and did still 
continually assault him ; insomuch that In process of 
time he became not only wounded, but lame. Also he 
has not made that havoc of the tovvnsmens' 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 j 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 ; these had no reverence for these 
men, and took no notice of their valor and adventures. 

Well, the time grew on that the pilgrims must go 
on their way ; wherefore they prepared for their 
journey. They sent for their friends ; they conferred 
ivith them ; they had some time set apart therein to 
commit each other to the protection 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 ac- 
companying them so far as it was convenient, they 
again committed each other to the protection of their 
King, and departed. 

They therefore that were of the pilgrims' company 
went on, and'Mr. Great-heart went before them. Now 
the women and children being weak y, they were 
29 



338 THE HILL LOCRK. 

forced to go as they could bear ; by which means Mr. 
Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more to sym- 
pathize with their condition. 

When they were gone from the townsmen, and 
when their friends had bid them farewell, they quick- 
ly came to the place where Faithful was put to death. 
Therefore they made a stand, and thanked Him that 
had enabled him to bear his cross so well ; and the 
rather, because they now found that they had a bene- 
fit by such manly sufferings as his were. 

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 the)'- were come up with the hill Lucre, where 
the silver mine was which took Demas off his pil- 
grimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends fell 
and perished ; wherefore they considered that. But 
when they were come to the old monument that stood 
over against the hill Lucre, to wit, to the pillar of 
salt, that stood also within view of Sodom and its 
stinking lake, they marvelled, as did Christian before, 
that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit as 
they were, should be so blind as to turn aside here. 
Only they considered again, that nature is not affected 
with the harms that others have met with, especially if 
that thing upon which they look has an attracting 
virtue upon the foolish eye. 

I saw now that they went on till they came to the 
river that was on this side of the Delectable Moun- 
tains ; to the river where the fine trees grow on both 
sides, and whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good 
against surfeits : where the meadows are green all the 
year long; and where they might lie down safely, 
Psalm 23: 2. 



THE HOUSE FOR LAMBS. 339 

By this river side, in the meadows, there were 
cotes and folds for sheep, and a house built for the 
nourishing and bringing up of those lambs, the babes 
of those women that go on pilgrimage. Also there 
was here one that was intrusted with them, who 
could have compassion ; and that could gather these 
lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and 
gently lead those that were with young, Heb. 5:2; Isa. 
40: 11. Now to the care of this man Christiana ad- 
monished her four daughters to commit their little 
ones, that by these waters they might be housed, har- 
bored, 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, he 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 nurture and ad- 
monition, and shall be taught to walk in right paths, 
and that you know is a favor af 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 Beelze- 
bub's garden ; but, fruit that procureth health where 
there is none, and that continue th and increaseth it 
where it is. So they were content to commit their 
little ones to him ; and that which was also an en- 
couragement to them so to do, was, for that all this 
was to be at the charge of the King, and so was as an 
hospital for young children and orphans. 



340 THE STILE LEADING TO BY-PATH MEADOW. 

Now they went on. And when they were come to 
They being come B Y-P ath meadow, to the stile over which 
to By-Patit stile, Christian went with his fellow Hopeful, 
a piuckTithGiant when they were taken by Giant Des- 
Despair. p au . an( j p Ut mt0 Doubting-castle, they 

sat down, and consulted what was best to be done : to 
wit, now that they were so strong, and had got such 
a man as Mr. Great-heart for their conductor, whether 
tney had not best to make an attempt upon the giant, 
demolish his castle, and if there were any pilgrims in 
it, to set them at liberty before they went any further. 
So one said one thing, and another said the 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 universally true, 
yet I have a commandment to resist sin, to overcome 
evil, to tight the good fight of faith: and I pray, with 
whom should I fight this good fight, if not with Giant 
Despair ? I will therefore attempt the taking away of 
his life, and the demolishing of Doubting-castle. Then 
said he, Who will go with me ? Then said old Honest, 
I will. And so will we too, said Christiana's four 
sons, Matthew, Samuel, Joseph, and James ; for they 
were young men and strong, 1 John, 2 : 13, 14. So 
they left the women in the road, and with them Mr. 
Feeble-mind, and Mr. Ready-to-halt with his crutches, 
to be their guard, until they came back ; for in that 
place, though Giant Despair dwelt so near, they, keep 
mir in the road, a little child might lead them, Isa. 11 : 6. 

So Mr. Great-heart, oid Honest, and the four young 
men, went to go up to Doubting-castle, to look for 
Giant Despair. When they came at the castle gate 
they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise. At 



GIANT DESPAIR KILLED. 341 

that the old giant comes to the gate, and Diffidence his 
a\ ife follows. Then said he, Who and what is he that 
is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the Giant 
Despair? Mr. Great-heart replied, It is I, Great-heart, 
one of the King of the celestial country's conductors 
of pilgrims to their place ; and I demand of thee that 
thou open thy gates for my entrance : prepare thyself 
also to fight, for I am come to take away thy head, and 
to demolish Doubting-castle. 

Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought 
no man could overcome him : and again Despair has over- 
thought he, Since heretofore I have made come ^s^- 
a conquest of angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid ; 
So he harnessed himself, and went out. He had a cap 
of steel upon his head, a breast-plate of fire girded to 
him, and he came out in iron shoes, with a great club 
in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and 
beset him behind and before : also, when Diffidence the 
giantess came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her 
down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, 
and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground, 
but was very loth 10 die. He struggled Despair is loth to 
hard, and had, as they say, as many die - 
lives as a cat; but Great-heart was his death, for he 
left him not till he had severed his head from his 
shoulders. 

Then they fell to demolishing Doubting-castle, and 
that you know might with ease be done, Doubtin&-cast!« 
since Giant Despair was dead. They demolished, 
were seven days in destroying of that; and in it of pil- 
grims they found one Mr. Despondency, almost starved 
to death, and one Much-afraid, his daughter : these two 
they saved alive. But it would have made you won- 
der to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and 
29* 



342 DOUBTIN'G-CASTLE DESTROYED. 

there in the castle yard, and how full of dead men's 
bones the dungeon was. 

When Mr. Great-heart and his companions had per- 
formed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency, and 
his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection; for 
they were honest people, though they were prisoners 
m 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 Feeble-mind and Ready-to-halt saw that it was 
the head of Giant, Despair indeed, they were very jo- 

They have music cund and merry. Now Christiana, if 
and dancing for joy. 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 with- 
out one crutch in his hand, but 1 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 dancing, for 
that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him 
aome 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 himself, 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 Des- 
pair, and set it upon a pole by the highway side, right 
over against the pillar that Christian erected for a cau- 
% 



THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 343 

tion to pilgrims that came after, to take heed of enter- 
ing into his grounds. 

Then he writ under it upon a marble stone these 
verses following : 

This is the head of him whose name only 
In former times did pilgrims terrify. 
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 Dcubting-castle, and had slain Giant 
Despair, they went forward, and went on till they came 
to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and 
Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the 
place. They also acquainted themselves with the 
Shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they had 
done Christian before, unto the Delectable Mountains. 

Now the Shepherds seeing so great a train follow Mr. 
Great-heart, (for with him they were well 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 Chiistiana and her train, 
Her sons, and her sons' wives, who like the wain, 
Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer 
From sin to grace, else they had not been here. 
Next here's old Honest come on pilgrimage, 
Ready-to-Halt too, who I dare engage 
True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, 
Who willing was no to be left behind. 
Despondency, good man, is coming after, 
And so also is Much-afraid, his daughter. 
May we have entertainment here, or must 
We further go ? Let's know whereon to trust. 



344 THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 

Then said the Shepherds, This is a comfortable 
company. You are welcome to us ; for we have for 

Their eutertain- the feeble, as well as for the strong. 
meau Our Prince has an eye to what is done 

to the least of these ; therefore infirmity 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. Feeble-mind; come in, Mr. Ready-to- 
halt ; come in, Mr. Despondency, and Mrs. Much- 
afraid his daughter. These, Mr. Great-heart, said the 
Shepherds to the guide, we call in by name, for that 
they are most subject to drawback; but as for you, 
and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your 
wonted liberty. Then said Mr. Great-heart, This day 
I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that you 

a description of are my Lord's shepherds indeed : for 
fuise Shepherds, fait you have not pushed these diseased 
neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strew- 
ed 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 ? for, said they, 
all things must be managed here for the 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 respectively unto his proper place. 

When morning was come, because the mountains 
were high and the day clear, and because it was the 
custom of the Shepherds to show the pilgrims before 
their departure some rarities, therefore after they were 



MOUNT MARVEL. — MOUNT INNOCENCE. 315 

ready, and had refreshed themselves, the Shepherds 
took them out into the fields, and showed them first 
what they had shown to Christian before. 

Then they had them to some new places. The 
first was Mount Marvel, where they „ 

,,, T.in-, t Mount MarveL 

looked, and beheld a man at a distance 
that tumbled the hills about with words. Then they 
asked the Shepherds what that should mean. So they 
told 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 Progress ; and he is set there 
to teach pilgrims how to believe down, or to tumble 
out of their ways, what difficulties they should meet 
with, by faith, 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 they saw a man „ 

, , , ■, . -, , J _ . Mount Innocence 

clothed all in white ; and two men, Preju- 
dice 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 ? The Shepherds an- 
swered, This man is named Godly-man, and this gar- 
ment is to show the innocency of his life. Now those 
that throw dirt at him are such as hate his well-do- 
ing ; but, as you see, the dirt will not stick upon his 
clothes, so it shall be with him that liveth innocently 
in the world. Whoever they be that would make 
such men dirty, they labor all in vain ; for God, by 
that a little time is spent, will cause that their inno- 
cence shall break forth as the light, and their right- 
eousness as the noon day. 



346 MOUNT CHARITY.— FOOL AND WANT-WIT. 

Then they took them, and had them to mount Cha- 
rily, where they showed them a man 
that had a bundle of cloth lying before 
him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the 
poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of 
cloth was never the less. Then said they, What should 
this be ? This is, said the Shepherds, to show you, 
that he 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 saw 
. _ one Fool, and one Want-wit, washing 

The work of one _,. 7, . , . . ' ,° 

Fool and one an Ethiopian, with an intention to make 
him white ; but the more they washed 
him the blacker he was. Then they asked the Shep- 
herds what that should mean. So they told them, say- 
ing, 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- 
Mercy has a mind tiana her mother, Mother, I would, if it 
to see ti,o hoio in might be, see the hole in the hill, or that 

the lull. & J „ . , * . „ 

commonly called the by-way to hell. 
So her mother brake her mind to the Shepherds. Then 
they went to the door ; it was on the side of an hill ; 
and they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken 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 



MERCY LONGS FOR A LOOKING-GLASS. 347 

would I deny myself rather than come to this place ! 
Then there was as if the very earth groaned and 
quaked under the feet of this young woman for fear ; 
so she looked white, and came trembling away, saying, 
Blessed be he and she that is delivered from this place ! 

Now when the Shepherds had shown them all these 
things, then they had them back to the palace, and en- 
tertained them with what the house would afford. But 
Mercy, being a young and married woman, longed for 
something that she saw there, but was Mercy longeth, and 
ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then for what - 
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 mis- 
carry. 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 pre- 
sent a man, one way, with his own fea- i t wai the word 
tures exactly ; and turn it but another of God- 
way, and it would show one the very face and simili- 
tude 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 'herein ^ s0 
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 ; 
whether living or dead j whether in earth or in heaven ; 



348 THE GIFTS OF THE SHEPHERDS. 

whether in a state of humiliation or in his exaltation , 
whether coming to suffer or coming to reign, James, 
1 : 23; 1 Cor. 13 : 12; 2 Cor. 3 : 18. 

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 daughters, a married 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 assuredly 
have what we can help her to. So they called her, and 
said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldst 
have? Then she blushed, and said, The great glass 
that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran and 
sue doth not lose fetched it, and with a joyful consent it 
her longing. was gi ven her. Then she bowed her 

head, and gave thanks, and said, By this I know that I 
have obtained favor in your eyes. 

They also gave to the other young women such 
things as they desired, and to their husbands great 
commendations, for that they had joined with Mr. 
Great-heart in the slaying Giant Despair, and the de- 
molishing of Doubting-castle. 
About Christiana's neck the Shepherds put a brace- 
Row the siipp- * et ' anc * s0 tne y ^d about the necks 
herds adorn the of her four daughters ; also they put 
pi gnms. ear-rings in their ears, and jewels on 

their foreheads. 

When they were minded to go hence, they let them 
go in peace, but gave not to them those certain cau- 
tions 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 ac- 



ONil TURN-AWAY. 349 

quainted with things, and so could give them their cau- 
tions 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 was 
the advantage that tnis company had over the other. 
From thence they went on singing, and they said, 

Behold how fitly are the stages set 

For their relief that pilgrims are become, 
And how they us receiva without one let, 

That make the other life our mark and home ! 

What novelties th?y have to us they give, 
That we, though pilgrims, joyful lives may live. 

They do upon us tco, such things bestow, 
That show we pilgrims are where'er we go. 

When they were gone from the Shepherds they 
quickly came to the place where Christian met with 
one Turn-away that dwelt in the town of Apostacy. 
Wherefore of him Mr. Great-heart their guide did now 
put them in mind, saying, This is the place where 
Christian met w r ith one Turn-away, who carried with 
him the character of his rebellion at his back. And 
this I have to say concerning this man; he would 
hearken to no counsel, but once a falling, persuasion 
could not stop him. When he came to the place where 
the cross and sepulchre were, he did „ „ 

,,.-,,. , , , How one Turr- 

meet with one tnat bid him Iook there ; away managed oi« 
but he gnashed with his teeth, and a P 0Stac ^ 
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 
30 



350 VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH AS3 AILED. 

him, and having done much despite unto him, he got 
away over the wail, 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, I am one whose name is Valiant- 
for-truth. I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celes- 

„ , r ,. 4 r tial City. Now, as I was in my way, 

One »\-Jiant-for- J > 1 

truth betet with there were three men did beset me, and 
propounded 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 season, 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 altogether unsuitable 
to me, and very unprofitable for me, I forsook it for 
this way. Then they asked me what I said to the 
third. And I told them my life cost far more dear than 
that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have 
nothing to do thus to put things to my choice ; where- 
fore at your peril be it if you meddle. Then these 
three, to wit, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and Prag- 
matick, 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, some of the marks of their valor, and have also 
carried away with them some of mine. They are but 
just now gone : I suppose they might, as the saying is, 
hear your horse dash, and so they betake themselves 
to flight. 



HIS VICTORY. — HIS SWORD. 351 

Great. But here was great odds, three against one. 

Valiant. 'Tis true ; but little or more are nothing to 
him that has the truth on his side: "Though an host 
should encamp against me." said one, Psalm 27 : 3, 
" my heart shall not fear : though war shall rise against 
me, in this will I be confident," &c. Besides, said he, 
I have read in some records that one man has fought 
an army : and how many did 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 suffi- 
cient 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 Jerusalem 
blade. 

Valiant. It is so. Let a man have one of these 
blades, with a hand to wield it, and skilHo use it, and 
he may venture upon an angel with it. He need not 
fear its holding, if he can but tell how r to lay on. Its 
edge will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and 
soul and spirit, and all, Heb. 4 : 12. 

GhEAT. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you 
was not weary. 

Valiant. I fought till my sword did cleave to my 
hand ; and then they were joined toge- 
ther as if a sword grew out of my arm ; The faith.' 
and when the blood ran through my fin- lood ' 
gers, then I fought with most courage. 

Great. Thou hast done well ; thou hast resisted 



352 TALK OF VALIANT AND GREAT-HEART. 

unto blood, striving against sin. Thou shalt abide by 
us, come in and go out with us ; for we are thy com- 
panions. Then took they him and washed his wounds, 
and gave him of what they had, to refresh him: and 
so they went together. 

Now as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart was 
delighted in him, (for he loved one greatly that he 
found to be a man of his hands,) and because there 
were in company them that were feeble and weak, 
therefore he questioned with him about many things ; 
as first, what countryman he was. 

Valiant. I am of Dark-land ; for there I was born, 
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 Destruction ? 

Valiant. Yes, it doth. Now that which caused me 

How Mr. valiant to come on Primage Was this. We 
came to go on pii- had one Mr. Tell-true come into our 
gnma ? e. parts, and he told it about what Christian 

had done, that went from the City of Destruction ; 
namely, how he had forsaken his wife and children, 
and had betaken himself to a pilgrim's life. It was 
also confidently reported how he had killed a serpent 
that did come out to resist him in his journey ; and 
how he got through to whither he intended. It wn 
also told what welcome he had at all his Lord's lodg 
ings, especially when he came to the gates of the Ce- 
lestial 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 foi 
joy at his reception, and what golden garments he Mas 
clothed with ; with many other things that now I shall 
forbear to relate. In a word, that man so told fie 
story of Christian and his travels that my heart fell 



TALK OF VALIANT AND GREAT-HEART. 353 

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 ? 

Valiant. Yes, yes ; for the same man also told us, 
that all would be nothing if we did not 

, . ... . He begin* right. 

begin to enter this way at the gate. 

Great. Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the 
pilgrimage of your husband, with what christian's name 
he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad famo^- 
for and near. 

Valiant. Why, is this Christian's wife ? 

Great. Yes, that it is ; and these also are his four 
sons. 

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 shall see them 
that would not go with him, yet to enter joiccdtoTetchrU- 
after him in at the gates into the Celes- tian ' s wife - 
tial City. 

Great. Without doubt it will be a comfort to him j 
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 themselves 
then, or that they shall rejoice to see themselves in that 
bliss ? and if they think they shall know and do this, 
why not know others, and rejoice in their welfare 
also? Again, since relations are our second self, 
though that state will be dissolved there, yet why may 
it not be rationally concluded that we shall be more 
30* 



354 TALK OF VALIANT AND GREAT- HEAHT. 

glad to see them there than to see they are wanting? 

Valiant. Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as 
to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my 
beginning to come on pilgrimage? 

Great. Yes ; were your father and mother willing 
that you should become a pilgrim ? 

Valiant. O no ; they used all means imaginable to 
persuade me to stay at home. 

Great. Why, what could they say against it ? 

Valiant. They said it was an idle life ; and if I mj'- 

The great stum- self were not inclined to sloth and lazi- 
biing-biocks that ness \ WO uld never countenance a pil- 

by his friends were ' r 

laid in his way. grim's condition. 

Great. And what did they say else ? 

Valiant. Why, they told me ihat 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 Despond, 

The first stum- where Christian was well nigh smo- 
biing-biock. thered. They told me that there were 

archers standing ready in Beelzebub-castle to shoot 
them who should knock at the Wicket-gate for en- 
trance. They told me also of the wood and dark moun- 
tains ; of the hill Difficulty ; of the lions ; and also of 
the thre2 giants, Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good. 
They said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend 
haunted the Valley of Humiliation ; and that Christian 
was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, 
you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, 
where the hobgoblins are, where the light is darkness, 



TALK OF VALIANT AND GREAT-HEART. 355 

where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. 
They told me also of giant Despair, of Doubting-castle, 
and of the ruin that the pilgrims met with there. Fur- 
ther, they said I must go ever the Enchanted Ground, 
which was dangerous 5 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 all 3 

Valiant. No. They also told me that this way was 
full of deceivers, and of persons that _, 

' r , The second. 

lay in wait. there to turn good men out 
of the path. 

Great. But how did they make that out ? 

Valiant. They told me that Mr. Worldly-wiseman 
did lie there in wait to deceive. They said also, that 
there were Formality and Hypocrisy continually on 
the road. They said also, that By-ends, Talkative, or 
Demas, would go near to gather me up ; that the 
Flatterer would catch me in his net ; or that, with 
green-headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to 
the gate, from whence he 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 ? 

Valiant. No, stay. They told me also of many that 
had tried that way of old, and that had . u . • 

, . . . . 1 he third. 

gone a great way therein, to see if they 
could find something of the glory there that so many 
had so much talked of from time to time, and how 
they came back again, and befooled themselves for 
setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfac- 
tion of the country. And they named several that did 



356 TALK OF VALIANT AND GREAT-HEART. 

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 
advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a 
feather. 

Great. Said they anything more to discourage you ? 
Valiant. Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fearing, 
„. m , who was a pilgrim, and how he found 

The fourth. , . ,. , i , , 

his way so solitary that he never had 
a comfortable hour therein ; also, that Mr. Despon- 
dency had like to have been starved therein : yea, and 
also (which I had almost forgot) that Christian him- 
self, 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 smothered up. 

Great. And did none of these things discourage 
you? 

Valiant. No ; they seemed but as so many nothings 
to me. 

Great. How came that about ? 

How he got Valiant. Why, I still believed what 
over ihew sturob- Mr. Tell-true had said ; and that carried 

hug blocks. * 

me beyond them all. 

Great. Then this was your victory, even your 
faith. 

Valiant. It was so. I believed, and therefore came 
out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves 
against me, and, by believing, am come to this place. 

Who would true valor see, 

Let him come hither ; 
One here will constant be, 

Come wind, come weather ; 



the pilgrim's song. 357 

There's uo 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 spirit ; 
He knows he at the eud 

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 with 
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 question, some say, 
whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this 
world. Over this forest, therefore, they w T ent both 
one and another, and Mr. Great-heart went before, for 
that he was the guide ; and Mr. Valiant-for-truthcame 
behind, being rear-guard, for fear lest perad venture 
some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief, should fall 
upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on 
here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand ; 
for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they 
cheered up one another as well as they could. Feeble- 
mind, Mr. Great-heart commanded should come up 



358 THE ENCHANTED GROUND. 

after him ; and Mr. Despondency was under the eye 
of Mr. Valiant. 

Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and 
darkness fell upon them a]l ; so that they could 
scarce, for a great while, the one see the other. 
Wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel for 
one another by words ; for they walked not by sight. 
But any one must think, that here was but sorry going 
for the best of them all ; 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 encourag- 
ing 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. 

The way was also here very wearisome, through 
dirt and slabbiness. Nor was there, on all this 
ground, so much as one inn or victualling-house 
wherein to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, 
was nothing but grunting, and puffing, and sighing, 
while one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in 
the dirt, and the children, some of them, lost their 
shoes in the mire ; while one cries out, I am down ; 
and another, Ho, where are you? and a third, The 
bushes have got such fast hold on me I think I can- 
not get away from them. 

Then they came at an arbor, warm, and promising 

An arbor on the much refreshing to the pilgrims ; for it 
•nchamins ground. was finc i y wr0U g] lt a b ve head, beauti- 
fied with greens, furnished with benches and settles. 
It also had in it a soft couch, whereon the weary might 
lean. This, you must think, all things considered, 
was tempting ; for the pilgrims already began 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 



THE ARBOR. — THE MAP. 359 

there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they continu- 
ally give 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 when they were nearest to them, they did most 
pluck up their spirits, and hearten one another to deny 
the flesh. This arbor was called The The name of the 
Slothful's Friend, and was made on pur- arbor - 
pose to allure, if it might be some of the pilgrims 
there to take up their rest, when weary. 

I saw then in my dream, that they went on in this 
their solitary ground till they came to The way difficult 
a place at which a man is apt to lose his t0 find - 
way. Now, though when it was light their guide 
could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led 
wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand. But he 
had in his pocket a map of all ways The guide has a 
leading to or from the celestial city ; 2J P to orfS^Sn 
wherefore he struck a light, (for he cit >- 
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 right 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 no- 
thing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the 
pilgrims in. 

Then thought I with myself, Who that goeth on 
pilgrimage but would have one of these God , s book 
maps abo-uthim, 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 An „ boft ffld tw0 
arbor, and it was built by the highway- a sJ~£P *•**•* 



360 HEEDLESS AND TOO-BOLD ASLEEP. 

side. And in that arbor there lay two men, whose names 
wei*e Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus iar 
on pilgrimage; but here, being wearied with their jour- 
ney, they sat down to rest themselves, and so fell fast 
asleep. When the pilgrims saw them, they stood still, 
and shook their heads ; for they knew that the sleep- 
ers 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 try to awake them ; that 
is, if they could ; but with this caution, namely, 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 guide, it seems, The pilgrims try 
did know them ; but there was no voice t0 awake them - 
nor answer. Then the guide did shake them, and do 
what he could to disturb them. Then said one of 
them, 1 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 meaning of this? 
The guide said, They talk in their sleep. Theft endeavcr 
If you strike them, beat them, or what- i8 M»lf» 
ever else you do to them, they will answer you after 
this fashion ; or as one of them said in old time, when 
the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept 
as one upon the mast of a ship, Prov. 23 : 34, 35. When 
shall I awake ? I will seek it yet again. You know 
when men talk in their sleep they say any thing ; and 
their words are not governed either by faith or reason. 
There is an incoherency in their words now, as there 
was before betwixt their going on pilgrimage and sit- 



THE ENCHANTED GROUND. 361 

ting down here. This, then, is the mischief of it : wnen 
fieedless ones go on pilgrimage 'tis twenty to one but 
they are served thus. For this Enchanted Ground is 
one of the last refuges that the enemy to pilgrims has; 
wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of 
the way, and so it standeth against us with the more 
advantage. For when, thinks the enemy, will these 
fools be so desirous to sit down as when they are wea- 
ry ? and when so like to be weary as when almost at 
their journey's end? Therefore it is, I say, that the 
Enchanted Ground is placed so nigh to the land Beu- 
lah, and so near the end of their race. Wherefore let 
pilgrims look to themselves, lest it happen to them as 
it has done to these that, as you see, are fallen asleep, 
and none can awake them. 

Then the pilgrims desired, with trembling, to go for- 
ward ; only they prayed their guide to strike a light, 
that they might go the rest of their way by the help of 
the light of a lantern. So they struck a light, and they 
went by the help of that through the The light of the 
rest of this way, though the darkness word - 
was very great, 2 Pet. 1 : 19. But the children began 
to be sorely weary, and they cried out The children cry 
unto Him that loveth pilgrims to make for weariness, 
their way more comfortable. So by that they had gone 
a little further a wind arose that drove away the fog, 
so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off 
(by much) of the Enchanted Ground ; only now they 
could see one another, 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 concerned. So 

they went on, and looked before them : and behold 

31 



362 STANDFAST JOINS THEM. 

_ . , they saw, as they thought, a man upon 

Stand-fast upon , . , ' . . , , , ' ■•» , 

niskneesintheEn- his knees, with hands and eyes lifted up, 
chanted Ground. and speakingj as they thought, earnestly 

to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not 
tell what he said ; so they went softly till he had done. 
When he had done he got up, and began to run to- 
ward the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called 
after him, saying, Soho, friend ! let us have your com- 
pany, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial 
City. So the man stoppe.d, and they came up to him. 
But as soon as Mr. Honest saw him he said, I know 
this man. Then said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Prythee, 
who is it ? It is one, said he, that comes from where- 

The story of about I dwelt. His name is Standfast ; 
standfast. h e j s certainly a right good pilgrim. 

So they came up one to another; and presently 
Standfast said to old Honest, Ho, father Honest, are you 
Talk betwixt him there? Ay, said he, that I am, as sure 
and Mr. Honest. as you are there. Right glad am I, said 
Mr. Standfast, 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. Standfast 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 Standfast. Think ! said old Ho- 
nest; what should I think ? I thought we had an honest 
man upon the road, and therefore should have his 
company by and by. If you thought not amiss, said 
Standfast, 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 things are 
right betwixt the Prince of pilgrims and your soul. 
For he saith, " Blessed is the man that feareth always," 
Prov. 28 : 14. 






WHY STANDFAST PRAYS. 353 

Valiant. Well but, brother, I pray thee tell us what 
was it that was the cause of thy being They found Mm 
upon thy knees even now ; was it for at P ra y er - 
that some special mercy laid obligations upon thee, or 
how? 

Stand. Why, we are, as you see, upon the En- 
chanted Ground ; and as I was coming „ ru . 

. ' ° What it was that 

along, I was musing with myself of what fetched him upon 
a dangerous nature the road in this place hls knees ' 
was, and how many that had come even thus far on 
pilgrimage had here been stopped and been destroyed. 
I thought also of the manner of the death with which 
this place destroyeth men. Those that die here, die 
of no violent distemper : the death which such die is 
not grievous to them. For he that goeth away in a 
sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure, 
Yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. 

Hon. Then Mr. Honest interrupting him, said, Did 
you see the two men asleep in the arbor ? 

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 presented 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 I would be ruled by 
her, she would make me great and happy ; for, said 
she, I am the mistress of the world, and men are made 
happy by me. Then I asked her name, and she told 



364 MADAM BUBBLE'S TEMPTATIONS. 

Madam Bubble, or me ll was Madam Bubble. This set me 
this vain world! further from her', but she still followed 
me with enticements. Then I betook me, as you saw, 
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 my Great deliver- 
ance ; for I verily believe she intended no good, but 
rather sought to make stop of me in my journey. 

Hon. Without doubt her designs were bad. But, 
stay, now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen 
her, or have read some story of her. 

Stand. Perhaps you have done both. 

Hon. Madam Bubble ! Is she not a tall, comely 
dame, somewhat of a swarthy complexion ? 

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 ? 

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 en- 
chanted. Whoever doth lay his head 
down in her lap, had as good lay it down on that block 
over which the axe doth hang ; and whoever lay their 
eyes upon her beauty are counted the enemies of God. 



MADAM BUBBLE'S TEMPTATIONS. 365 

This is she that maintaineth in their splendor all those 
that are the enemies of pilgrims, James, 4 : 4. Yea, 
this is she that hath bought off many a man from a pil- 
grim'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 ex- 
cellences of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut : 
she will talk with any man. She always laugheth poor 
pilgrims to scorn, but highly commends the rich. If 
there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will 
speak well of him from house to house. She loveth 
banquetting and feasting mainly well ; she is always 
at one full table or another. She has given it out in 
some places that she is a goddess, and therefore some 
do worship her. She has her time, and open places 
of cheating ; and she will say and avow it, that none 
can show a good comparable to 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 per- 
sons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and 
to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of 
commending her commodities, and she loves them 
most that thinks best of her. She will promise to some 
crowns and kingdoms if they will but take her advice j 
yet many hath she brought to the halter, and ten thou- 
sand times more to hell. 

Stand. Oh ! said Standfast, what a mercy is it that I 
drd resist her ; for whither might she have drawn me ! 

Great. "Whither ? nay, none but God knows whither. 
But in general, to be sure, she would have drawn 
thee into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown 
men in destruction and perdition, 1 Tim. 6 : 9. 'Twas 
she that set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam 
31* 



366 THE LAND OF BKULAH. 

against his master. 'Twas she that persuaded Judas 
to sell his Lord j and that prevailed with Demas to 
forsake the godly pilgrim's life. None can tell of the 
mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt 
rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, be- 
twixt neighbor and neighbor, betwixt a man and his 
wife, betwixt a man and himself, betwixt the flesh and 
the spirit. Wherefore, good Mr. Standfast, be as your 
name is, and when you have done all, stand. 

At this discourse there was among the pilgrims a 
mixture of joy and trembling; 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 living mortal knows. 

Some in the ditch are spoiled, yea can 

Lie tumbling in the mire : 
Some, though they shun the frying-pan, 

Do leap into the fire. 

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 them- 
selves awhile to rest. And because this country was 
common for pilgrims, and because the orchards and 
vineyards that were here belonged to the King of the 
celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make 
bold with any of his things. But a little while soon re- 
freshed them here ; for the bells did so ring, and the 
trumpets continually sounded so melodiously, that 
they could not sleep, and yet they received as much 
refreshing 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 



THE LAND OF BEULAH. 367 

another would answer, saying, And so many went over 
the water, and w r ere let in at the golden gates to-day ! 
They would cry again, There is now a legion of shin- 
ing ones just come to town, by which Ave know that 
there are more pilgrims upon the road ; for here they 
come to wait for them, and to comfort them after their 
sorrow ! Then the pilgrims got up, and walked to and 
fro. But how were their ears now filled with heavenly 
voices, and their eyes delighted with celestial visions ! 
In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt no- 
thing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing that was offensive 
to their stomach or mind ; only when they tasted of 
the water of the river over which they ^ ^ ^ J 
were to go, they thought that it tasted a flesh, but sweet to 
little bitterish to the palate ; but it proved thc soul 
sweet when it was down. 

In this place there was a record kept of the names 
of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history 
of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here 
also much discoursed, how the river to some had had 
its Mowings, and what ebbings it has had ^ hag ^ pb 
while others have gone over. It has bings and flowing*, 
been in a manner dry for some, while it l etie tl e ' 
has overflowed its banks for others. 

In this place the children of the town would go into 
the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the pil- 
grims, and bring them to them with much affection. 
Here also grew camphire, with spikenard and saffron, 
calamus, and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankin- 
cense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With 
these the pilgrims' chambers were perfumed while 
they stayed here ; and with these were their bodies 
anointed, to prepare them to go over the river, when 
the time appointed was come. 

31** 



368 A MESSENGER TO CHRISTIANA. 

Now while they lay here, and waited for the good 
hour, there was a noise in the town that there was a 
post come from the Celestial City, with matter of great 

importance to one Christiana, the wife 
deuth™eut e toi ? hri*- of Christian the pilgrim. So inquiry 
tiana - was made for her, the house was found 

out where she was. So the post presented her with 

a letter. The contents were, Hail, good 

His message. _ , . . . , . , , 

woman ; I bring thee tidings that the 
Master calleth for thee, and expects that thou shouldst 
stand in his presence in clothes of immortality within 
these ten days. 

When he had read this letter to her he gave her 
therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, 
and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The 
token was, an arrow 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 

How welcome that she was the first of this company 
fhi'have'noSing that was to go over, she called for Mr. 
to do but to die. Great-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. Then she bid him that he should 
Her speech to her give advice how all things should be 
* uide - prepared for her journey. So he told 

her, saying, Thus and thus it must be, and we that 
survive will accompany you to the river side. 

Then she called for her children, and gave them her 

blessing, and told them that she had 

read with comfort the mark that was set 

in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her 



CHRISTIANA PREPARES TO CO. 369 

there, and that they had kept their garments so white. 
Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, 
and commanded her sons and 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. Va- To jf r . vaiiant- 
iiant-for-truth, and said unto him, Sir, **■«■■*• 
you have in all places showed yourself true-hearted ; 
be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a 
crown of life, 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 comfortably to them. For my 
daughters, my sons' wives, they have been faithful, 
and a fulfilling of the promise upon 

. .„ ■ * • j r. . u To Mr - Standfast 

them will be their end. But she gave 
Mr. Standfast a ring. 

Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, 
" Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is 
no guile !" John, 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 however the w r eather is 
in my journey, I shall have time enough when I come 
there to sit down and rest me and dry me. 

Then came in that good man Ready-to-halt to see 
her. So she said to him, Thy travel To Mr. Ready, 
hitherto has been with difficulty ; but to - haU - 
that will make thy rest the sweeter. Watch and be 
ready ; for at an hour when ye think not, the messen 
ger may come. 

After him came Mr. Despondency and his daughter 
Much-afraid, to whom she said, You ToMr 1)eg 
ought, with thankfulness, for ever to dency and hk 
rememDer your deliverance from the aug "** 



370 CHRISTIANA PASSES THE RIVER. 

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 
To Mr. Feeble- delivered from the mouth of giant Slay- 
,mnd- good, 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 be- 
fore him for that fault with blushing. 

Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. 
Her last day, and So the road was full of people to see her 

manner of depar- ^^ ^ j oumey g ut behold) all the 

banks beyond the river were full of horses and chari- 
ots, 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 fol- 
lowed her. The last words that she was heard to say 
were, I come, Lord, to be with thee and bless thee ! 
So her children and friends returned to their place, 
for those that waited for Christiana had carried her 
out of their sight. So she went and called, and enter- 
ed 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 departed to their 
respective places. 

In process of time, there came a post to the town 
Mr.Ready-to-hait again, and his business was with Mr. 
summoned. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired him out, 

and said, I am come from Him whom thou hast loved 



MR. READY-TO-HALT PASSES THE RIVER. 371 

and followed, though upon crutches ; and my message 
i? to tell thee that he expects thee at his table to sup 
with him in his kingdom, the next day after Easter ; 
wherefore prepare thyself for this journey. Then he 
also gave him a token that he was a true messenger, 
saying, " I have broken thy golden bowl, and loosed 
thy silver cord," Eccles. 12 : 6. 

After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow- 
pilgrims, and told them, saying, I am sent for, and 
God shall surely visit you also. So he desired Mr. 
Valiant to make his will. And because he had nothing 
to bequeath to them that should survive him but his 
crutches, and his good wishes, therefore 

' , _, ° , 1 , , Promises. 

thus he said, These crutches I bequeath 
to my son, that shall tread in my steps, Hw wlU * 
with a hundred warm wishes that he may prove better 
than I have been. Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart 
for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed himself 
to his 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 to say were, 

__ , , . _ , „, , ^ . . His last words. 

Welcome life ! So he went his way. 

After this Mr. Feeble mind had tidings brought him 
that the post sounded his horn at his Feeble-mind sum- 
chamber-door. Then he came in, and moned - 
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 windows shall be dark- 
ened," 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 



372 MR. FEEBLE -MIND DEPARTS. 

the truth of the message. Then he said, Since I have 

nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose should 

I make a will ? As for my feeble mind, 

He makes no will. , ..., . , , . . . ,, . T 

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 ? where- 
fore, when I 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. His last words were, 

His last words. __ , , ... , n ' 

Hold out, faith and patience! So 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 
Mr. Despondency brought this message to him : Trembling 
summoned. man j these are to summon thee to be 

ready with the King by the next Lord's day, to shout 
for joy for thy deliverance from all thy doubtings. 
And, said the messenger, that my message is true, take 
this for a proof: so he gave him a grasshopper to be a 
burden unto him, Eccles. 12 : 5. 
Now Mr. Despondency's daughter, whose name was 
His daughter Much-afraid, said, when she heard what 
goes too. was (j one) that she would go with her 

father. Then Mr. Despondency said to his friends, 
Myself and my daughter, you know what we have 
been, and how troublesomely we have behaved our- 
selves 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 wilh you, they are ghosts which we enter- 
tained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could 



DESPONDENCY, MUCH-AFRAID, AND HONEST, DEPART. 373 

never shake them off after; and they will walk about, 
and seek entertainment of the pilgrims : but for our 
sakes, shut the door? noon them. When the time was 
come for them to depart, they went up to the brink of 
the river. The last words of Mr. Des- 

. _, ., . . , His last words. 

pondency were, Farewell, night; wel- 
come, 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. Honest. So he 
came to the house where he was, and delivered to his 
hand these lines : Thou art commanded Mr. Honest sum- 
to be ready against this day sevennight, m° ned - 
to present thyself before thy Lord, at his Father's 
house. And for a token that my message is true, "All 
the daughters of music shall be brought low," Eccles. 
12 : 4. Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and 
said unto them, I die, but shall make no TT 

.., j. ' »' i ii He makes 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 places ; but 
Mr. Honest, in his life-time, had spoken _ . 

' 7 r . Good-conscience 

to one Good-conscience to meet him helps Mr. Honest 
there, the which he also did, and lent over the river ' 
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 sent for by a summons, by the Mr. Vaiiact-for- 
same post as the other, and had this for truth Mmmoned. 
a token that the summons was true, " That his pitcher 



376 the author's farewell. 

go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with Him 
in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to 
hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen 
the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted 
to set my foot too. His name has been to me 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 has held 
me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my 
steps have been strengthened in his way. 

Now while he was thus in discourse his countenance 
changed; his strong man bowed under him : and after 
he had said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he ceased 
to be seen of them. 

But glorious it was to see how the upper region was 
filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and 
pipers, with singers and players on stringed instru- 
ments, 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 am 
silent about : meantime I bid my reader 

FAREWELL. 
THE END. 







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The pilgrim's progress from this world 



Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library 




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