The Pilgrim’s Progress

From This World to That Which is to Come;

Delivered under the Similitude of a Dream

by John Bunyan

This text was prepared by Logos Research Systems, Inc. from an edition
marked as follows:

Auburn:
Derby and Miller.
Buffalo:
Geo. H. Derby and Co.
1853

CONTENTS

[1]Author’s Apology for his Book

[2]PART I.

[3]The First Stage. —Christian’s deplorable condition—Evangelist directs
him—Obstinate and Pliable—Slough of Despond—Worldly Wiseman—Mount
Sinai—Conversation with Evangelist

[4]The Second Stage. —The Gate—conversation with Good-Will—the
Interpreter’s House—Christian entertained—the sights there shown him

[5]The Third Stage. —Loses his burden at the Cross—Simple, Sloth,
Presumption, Formalist, Hypocrisy—hill Difficulty—the Arbor—misses his
roll—the palace Beautiful—the lions—talk with Discretion, Piety, Prudence,
and Charity—wonders shown to Christian—he is armed

[6]The Fourth Stage. —Valley of Humiliation—conflict with Apollyon—Valley of
the Shadow of Death—Giants Pope and Pagan

[7]The Fifth Stage. —Discourse with Faithful—Talkative and
Faithful—Talkative’s character

[8]The Sixth Stage. —Evangelist overtakes Christian and Faithful—Vanity
Fair—the Pilgrims brought to trial—Faithful’s martyrdom

[9]The Seventh Stage. —Christian and Hopeful—By-ends and his
companions—plain of Ease—Lucre-hill—Demas—the River of
Life—Vain-Confidence—Giant Despair—the Pilgrims beaten—the Dungeon—the Key
of Promise

[10]The Eighth Stage. —The Delectable Mountains—entertained by the
Shepherds—a by-way to Hell

[11]The Ninth Stage. —Christian and Hopeful meet
Ignorance—Turn-away—Little-Faith—the Flatterer—the net—chastised by a
Shining One—Atheist—Enchanted Ground—Hopeful’s account of his
conversion—discourse of Christian and Ignorance

[12]The Tenth Stage. —Talk of Christian and Hopeful—Temporary—the
backslider—the land of Beulah—Christian and Hopeful pass the River—welcome
to the Celestial city

[13]Conclusion of Part First

[14]PART II.

[15]Author’s Apology for the Second Part

[16]Pilgrimage of Christiana and her children

[17]The First Stage. —Christiana and Mercy—Slough of Despond—knocking at the
gate—the Dog—talk between the Pilgrims

[18]The Second Stage. —The Devil’s garden—two ill-favored ones assault
them—the Reliever—entertainment at the Interpreter’s house—the Significant
Rooms—Christiana and Mercy’s experience

[19]The Third Stage. —Accompanied by Great-Heart—the Cross—justified by
Christ—Sloth and his companions hung—the hill Difficulty—the Arbor

[20]The Fourth Stage. —The Lions—Giant Grim slain by Great-Heart—the
Pilgrims entertained—the children catechized by Prudence—Mr. Brisk—Matthew
sick—the remedy—sights shown the Pilgrims

[21]The Fifth Stage. —Valley of Humiliation—Valley of the Shadow of
Death—Giant Maul slain

[22]The Sixth Stage. —Discourse with Old Honest—character and history of Mr.
Fearing—Mr. Self-will and some professors—Gaius’ house—conversation—the
supper—Old Honest and Great-Heart’s riddles and discourse—Giant Slay-good
killed—Mr. Feeble-mind’s history—Mr. Ready-to-halt—Vanity Fair—Mr. Mnason’s
house—cheering entertainment and converse—a Monster

[23]The Seventh Stage. —Hill Lucre—River of Life—Giant Despair killed—the
Delectable Mountains—entertainment by the Shepherds

[24]The Eighth Stage. —Valiant-for-Truth’s-Victory—his talk with
Great-Heart—the Enchanted Ground—Heedless and Too-bold—Mr. Stand-fast—Madam
Bubble’s temptations—the land of Beulah—Christiana summoned—her parting
addresses—she passes the River—she is followed by Ready-to-halt,
Feeble-mind, Despondency and his daughter, Honest, Valiant, Steadfast

[25]Author’s Farewell
_________________________________________________________________

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, [1] and eat out

The book that I already am about.

Well, so I did; but yet I did not think

To show to all the world my pen and ink

In such a mode; I only thought to make

I knew not what: nor did I undertake

Thereby to please my neighbor; no, not I;

I did it my own self to gratify.


Neither did I but vacant seasons spend

In this my scribble; nor did I intend

But to divert myself, in doing this,

From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.

Thus I set pen to paper with delight,

And quickly had my thoughts in black and white;

For having now my method by the end,

Still as I pull’d, it came; and so I penned

It down; until it came at last to be,

For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.


Well, when I had thus put mine ends together

I show’d them others, that I might see whether

They would condemn them, or them justify:

And some said, 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 loath;

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.

Yea, that I might them better palliate,

I did too with them thus expostulate:


May I not write in such a style as this?

In such a method too, and yet not miss

My end-thy good? Why may it not be done?

Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.

Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops

Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,

Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,

But treasures up the fruit they yield together;

Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit

None can distinguish this from that; they suit

Her well when hungry; but if she be full,

She spews out both, and makes their blessing 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 groped 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 toad’s head dwell,

And may be found too in an oyster-shell;

If things that promise nothing, do contain

What better is than gold; who will disdain,

That have an inkling [2] 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 excel

What do in brave but empty notions dwell.


“Well, yet I am not fully satisfied

That this your book will stand, when soundly tried.”


Why, what’s the matter? “It is dark.” What though?

“But it is feigned.” What of that? I trow

Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine,

Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine.

“But they want solidness.” Speak, man, thy mind.

“They drown the weak; metaphors make us blind.”


Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen

Of him that writeth things divine to men:

But must I needs want solidness, because

By metaphors I speak? 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 what, by pins and loops,

By calves and sheep, by heifers, and by rams,

By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs,

God speaketh to him; and happy is he

That finds the light and grace that in them be.


But 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,

Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive,

And things that good are, of our souls bereave.

My dark and cloudy words they do but hold

The truth, as cabinets inclose the gold.


The prophets used much by metaphors

To set forth truth: yea, who so considers

Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see,

That truths to this day in such mantles be.


Am I afraid to say, that holy writ,

Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit,

Is everywhere so full of all these things,

Dark figures, allegories? Yet there springs

From that same book, that lustre, and those rays

Of light, that turn our darkest nights to days.


Come, let my carper to his life now look,

And find there darker lines than in my 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 nowhere doth forbid

The use of parables, in which lay hid

That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were

Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.


Let me add one word more. O man of God,

Art thou offended? Dost thou wish I had

Put forth my matter in another dress?

Or that I had in things been more express?

Three things let me propound; then I submit

To those that are my betters, as is fit.


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 I may

Seek the advance of truth this or that way.

Denied, did I say? Nay, I have leave,

(Example too, and that from them that have

God better pleased, by their words or ways,

Than any man that breatheth now-a-days,)

Thus to express my mind, thus to declare

Things unto thee that excellentest are.


2. I find that men as high as trees will write

Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight

For writing so. Indeed, if they abuse

Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use

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 designs?

And he makes base things usher in divine.


3. I find that holy writ, in many places,

Hath semblance with this method, where the cases

Do call for one thing to set forth another:

Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother

Truth’s golden beams: nay, by this method may

Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.


And now, before I do put up my pen,

I’ll 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, whither he goes,

What he leaves undone; also what he does:

It also shows you how he runs, and runs,

Till he unto the gate of glory comes.

It shows, too, who set out for life amain,

As if the lasting crown they would obtain;

Here also you may see the reason why

They lose their labor, and like fools do die.


This book will make a traveler of thee,

If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be;

It will direct thee to the Holy Land,

If thou wilt its directions understand

Yea, it will make the slothful active be;

The blind also delightful things to see.


Art thou for something rare and profitable?

Or would’st thou see a truth within a fable?

Art thou forgetful? Wouldest thou remember

From New-Year’s day to the last of December?

Then read my fancies; they will stick like burs,

And may be, to the helpless, comforters.


This book is writ in such a dialect

As may the minds of listless men affect:

It seems a novelty, and yet contains

Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains.


Would’st thou divert thyself from melancholy?

Would’st thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly?

Would’st thou read riddles, and their explanation?

Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?

Dost thou love picking meat? Or would’st thou see

A man i’ the clouds, and hear him speak to thee?

Would’st thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep?

Or would’st thou in a moment laugh and weep?

Would’st thou lose thyself and catch no harm,

And find thyself again without a charm?

Would’st read thyself, and read thou know’st not what,

And yet know whether thou art blest or not,

By reading the same lines? O then come hither,

And lay my book, thy head, and heart together.

JOHN BUNYAN.

PART I

THE FIRST STAGE

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain
place where was a den, [3] and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I
slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed with
rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book
in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. Isa 64:6; Luke 14:33; Psalm
38:4. I looked and saw him open the book, and read therein; and as he read,
he wept and trembled; and not being able longer to contain, he brake out
with a lamentable cry, saying, “What shall I do?” Acts 2:37; 16:30; Habak
1:2,3.

In this plight, therefore, he went home, and restrained himself as long as
he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his distress; but
he could not be silent long, because that his trouble increased. Wherefore
at length he brake his mind to his wife and children; and thus he began to
talk to them: “O, my dear wife,” said he, “and you the children of my
bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself undone by reason of a burden that
lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am certainly informed that this our city
will be burnt with fire from heaven; in which fearful overthrow, both
myself, with thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall miserably come to
ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way of escape can be found
whereby we may be delivered.” At this his relations were sore amazed; not
for that they believed that what he had said to them was true, but because
they thought that some frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore, it
drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains,
with all haste they got him to bed. But the night was as troublesome to him
as the day; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears.
So when the morning was come, they would know how he did. He told them,
“Worse and worse:” he also set to talking to them again; but they began to
be hardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and
surly carriage to him; sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would
chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to
retire himself to his chamber to pray for and pity them, and also to condole
his own misery; he would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes
reading, and sometimes praying: and thus for some days he spent his time.

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

I saw also that he looked this way, and that way, as if he would run; yet he
stood still because (as I perceived) he could not tell which way to go. I
looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, and he asked,
“Wherefore dost thou cry?”

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

Then said Evangelist, “Why not willing to die, since this life is attended
with so many evils?” The man answered, “Because, I fear that this burden
that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall
into Tophet. Isa. 30:33. And Sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not
fit to go to judgment, and from thence to execution; and the thoughts of
these things make me cry.”

Then said Evangelist, “If this be thy condition, why standest thou still?”
He answered, “Because I know not whither to go.” Then he gave him a
parchment roll, and there was written within, “Fly from the wrath to
come.” Matt. 3:7.

The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully, said,
“Whither must I fly?” Then said Evangelist, (pointing with his finger over a
very wide field,) “Do you see yonder wicket-gate?” Matt. 7:13,14. The man
said, “No.” Then said the other, “Do you see yonder shining light?” Psalm
119:105; 2 Pet. 1:19. He said, “I think I do.” Then said Evangelist, “Keep
that light in your eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou see the
gate; at which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt
do.” So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. Now he had not run far
from his own door when his wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry
after him to return; but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on
crying, Life! life! eternal life! Luke 14:26. So he looked not behind him,
Gen. 19:17, but fled towards the middle of the plain.

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

OBSTINATE: What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts
behind us!

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

OBSTINATE: What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to
find them?

CHRISTIAN: 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, Heb.
11:16, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently seek
it. Read it so, if you will, in my book.

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

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

OBSTINATE: 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.

PLIABLE: 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.

OBSTINATE: 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.

CHRISTIAN: Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbor Pliable; there are such
things to be had which I spoke of, and many more glories besides. If you
believe not me, read here in this book, and for the truth of what is
expressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that made
it. Heb. 9: 17-21.

PLIABLE: Well, neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a point;
I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him:
but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place?

CHRISTIAN: I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a
little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about the
way.

PLIABLE: Come then, good neighbor, let us be going. Then they went both
together.

OBSTINATE: And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate: I will be no
companion of such misled, fantastical fellows.

Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and
Pliable went talking over the plain; and thus they began their discourse.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

PLIABLE: Come, neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two here,
tell me now farther, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither we
are going.

CHRISTIAN: I can better conceive of them with my mind, than speak of them
with my tongue: but yet, since you are desirous to know, I will read of them
in my book.

PLIABLE: And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, verily; for it was made by Him that cannot lie. Tit. 1:2.

PLIABLE: Well said; what things are they?

CHRISTIAN: There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life
to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom for ever. Isa. 65:17; John
10: 27-29.

PLIABLE: Well said; and what else?

CHRISTIAN: There are crowns of glory to be given us; and garments that will
make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven. 2 Tim. 4:8; Rev.
22:5; Matt. 13:43.

PLIABLE: This is very pleasant; and what else?

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

PLIABLE: And what company shall we have there?

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

PLIABLE: The hearing of this is enough to ravish one’s heart. But are these
things to be enjoyed? How shall we get to be sharers thereof?

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

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

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

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

PLIABLE: Then said Pliable, Ah, neighbor Christian, where are you now?

CHRISTIAN: Truly, said Christian, I do not know.

PLIABLE: At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his
fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of? If we have
such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect between this and
our journey’s end? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the
brave country alone for me. And with that he gave a desperate struggle or
two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next to
his own house: so away he went, and Christian saw him no more.

Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Despond alone; but
still he endeavored to struggle to that side of the slough that was farthest
from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate; the which he did, but could
not get out because of the burden that was upon his back: but I beheld in my
dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help, and asked him what he
did there.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

CHRISTIAN: 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 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 scum and filth that attends
conviction 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
apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place: and
this is the reason of the badness of this ground.

“It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so bad.
Isa. 35:3,4. His laborers also have, by the direction of his Majesty’s
surveyors, been for above this sixteen hundred years employed about this
patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended: yea, and to my
knowledge,” said he, “there have been swallowed up at least twenty thousand
cart loads, yea, millions of wholesome instructions, 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 it is the Slough of Despond
still, and so will be when they have done what they can.

“True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and
substantial steps, placed even through the very midst of 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 Sam. 12:23.

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

Now as Christian was walking solitary by himself, he espied one afar off
come crossing over the field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just as
they were crossing the way of each other. The gentleman’s name that met him
was Mr. Wordly 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 [4] 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.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened
manner?

CHRISTIAN: A burdened manner indeed, as ever I think poor creature had! And
whereas you ask me, Whither away? I tell you, sir, I am going 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.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: Hast thou a wife and children?

CHRISTIAN: Yes; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that
pleasure in them as formerly: methinks I am as if I had none. 1 Cor. 7:29.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: Wilt thou hearken to me, if I give thee counsel?

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

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get
thyself rid of thy burden; for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till
then: nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessings which God hath
bestowed upon thee till then.

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

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden?

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

I beshrew [5] him for his counsel! there is not a more dangerous and
troublesome way in the world than is that into 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 on in that way. Hear me; I am older than thou:
thou art like to meet with, in the way which thou goest, wearisomeness,
painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness,
and, in a word, death, and what not. These things are certainly true, having
been confirmed by many testimonies. And should a man so carelessly cast away
himself, by giving heed to a stranger?

CHRISTIAN: Why, sir, this burden on my back is more terrible to me than are
all these things which you have mentioned: nay, methinks I care not what I
meet with in the way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my
burden.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: How camest thou by thy burden at first?

CHRISTIAN: By reading this book in my hand.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: I thought so; and it has happened unto thee as to other
weak men, who, meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into
thy distractions; which distractions do not only unman men, as thine I
perceive have done thee, but they run them upon desperate ventures, to
obtain they know not what.

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

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: 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.

CHRISTIAN: Sir, I pray open this secret to me.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: Why, in yonder village (the village is named Morality)
there dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a
man of a very good name, that has skill to help men off with such burdens as
thine is from their shoulders; yea to my knowledge, he hath done a great
deal of good this way; aye, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that
are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens. To him, as I said,
thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from
this place; and if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young
man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well
as the old gentleman himself: there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy
burden; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, (as
indeed I would not wish thee,) thou mayest send for thy wife and children to
this village, where there are houses now standing empty, one of which thou
mayest have at a reasonable rate: provision is there also cheap and good;
and that which will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure there thou
shalt live by honest neighbors, in credit and good fashion.

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

CHRISTIAN: Sir, which is my way to this honest man’s house?

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: Do you see yonder high hill?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, very well.

MR. WORLDLY WISEMAN: By that hill you must go, and the first house you come
at is his.

So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality’s house for help:
but, behold, when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so high, and
also that side of it that was next the way-side did hang so much over, that
Christian was afraid to venture further, lest the hill should fall on his
head; wherefore there he stood still, and 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, Ex. 19:16, 18, out of the hill, that made Christian
afraid that he should be burnt: here therefore he did sweat and quake for
fear. Heb. 12:21. And now he began to be sorry that he had taken Mr. Worldly
Wiseman’s counsel; and with that he saw Evangelist coming to meet him, at
the sight also of whom he began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew
nearer and nearer; and coming up to him, he looked upon him, with a severe
and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with Christian.

EVANGELIST: What doest 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 thou the man that I found
crying without the walls of the city of Destruction?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, dear sir, I am the man.

EVANGELIST: Did not I direct thee the way to the little wicket-gate?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, dear sir, said Christian.

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

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

EVANGELIST: What was he?

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

EVANGELIST: What said that gentleman to you?

CHRISTIAN: Why, he asked me whither I was going; and I told him.

EVANGELIST: And what said he then?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

EVANGELIST: And what said he then?

CHRISTIAN: 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 farther 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.

EVANGELIST: Then said Evangelist, Stand still a little, that I show thee the
words of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, “See that ye
refuse not Him that speaketh; for if they escaped not who refused him that
spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from Him that
speaketh from heaven.” Heb. 12:25. He said, moreover, “Now the just shall
live by faith; but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in
him.” Heb. 10:38. He also did thus apply them: Thou art the man that art
running into this misery; thou hast begun to reject the counsel of the Most
High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace, even almost to the
hazarding of thy perdition.

Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying, Woe is me, for I am
undone! At the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right hand,
saying, “All manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto men.”
Matt. 12:31. “Be not faithless, but believing.” John 20:27. Then did
Christian again a little 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. The man that met thee is one Worldly
Wiseman, and rightly is he so called; partly because he savoreth only 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 best from the cross, Gal. 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 Worldly Wiseman. The Lord says, “Strive to enter in
at the straight gate,” Luke 13:24, the gate to which I send thee; “for
strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.”
Matt. 7:13,14. From this little wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath
this 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 cross odious unto thee;
for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt. Heb. 11:25,26.
Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that will save his life
shall lose it. And he that 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 his disciple. Mark 8:38; John 12:25; Matt. 10:39;
Luke 14:26. I say, therefore, for a man to labor to persuade thee that that
shall be thy death, without which, the truth hath said, thou canst not have
eternal life, this doctrine thou must abhor.

Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth to
the ministration of death. And for this thou must consider to whom he sent
thee, and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden.

He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is the son of
the bond-woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children, Gal.
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 an 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 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 mountain
under which poor Christian stood, which made the hair of his flesh stand up.
The words were 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.” Gal.
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 hearkening to his counsel. He also was
greatly ashamed to think that this gentleman’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 himself again to Evangelist in
words and sense as follows.

CHRISTIAN: Sir, what think you? Is there any hope? May I now go back, and go
up to the wicket-gate? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back from
thence ashamed? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man’s counsel; but may
my sin be forgiven?

EVANGELIST: Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great, for by it
thou hast committed two evils: thou hast forsaken the way that is good, to
tread in forbidden paths. Yet will the man at the gate receive thee, for he
has good-will for men; only, said he, take heed that thou turn not aside
again, lest thou “perish from the way, when his wrath is kindled but a
little.” Psalm 2:12.
_________________________________________________________________

[3] Bedford jail, in which the author was imprisoned for conscience’ sake

[4] Slight knowledge.

[5] Wish a curse to.
_________________________________________________________________

THE SECOND STAGE

Then did Christian address himself to go back; and Evangelist, after he had
kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God speed; So he went on with
haste, neither spake he to any man by the way; nor if any 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. Worldly
Wiseman’s counsel. So, in process of time, Christian got up to the gate.
Now, over the gate there was written, “Knock, and it shall be opened unto
you.” Matt. 7:7.

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


“May I now enter here? Will he within

Open to sorry me, though I have been

An undeserving rebel? Then shall I

Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high.”

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.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

GOODWILL: I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened
the gate.

So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then said
Christian, What means that? The other told him, A little distance from this
gate there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the captain:
from thence both he and they that are with him, shoot arrows at those that
come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in. Then
said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man of the
Gate asked him who directed him thither.

CHRISTIAN: Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, as I did: and he said,
that you, sir, would tell me what I must do.

GOODWILL: An open door is set before thee, and no man can shut it.

CHRISTIAN: Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards.

GOODWILL: But how is it that you came alone?

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

GOODWILL: Did any of them know of your coming?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

GOODWILL: But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

GOODWILL: But why did he not come through?

CHRISTIAN: We indeed came both together until we came to the Slough of
Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my neighbor
Pliable discouraged, and would not venture farther. Wherefore, getting out
again on the side next to his own house, he told me I should possess the
brave country alone for him: so he went his way, and I came mine; he after
Obstinate, and I to this gate.

GOODWILL: 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?

CHRISTIAN: Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable; and if I
should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no
betterment betwixt him and myself. It is true, he went back to his own
house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being persuaded
thereto by the carnal arguments of one Mr. Worldly Wiseman.

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

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

GOODWILL: 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.

CHRISTIAN: 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 O, what a favor
is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here!

GOODWILL: We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they
have done before they come hither; they in no wise are cast out. John 6:37.
And therefore good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach
thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee; dost thou see this narrow
way? That is the way thou must go. It was cast up by the patriarchs,
prophets, Christ, and his apostles, and it is as strait as a rule can make
it; this is the way thou must go.

CHRISTIAN: But, said Christian, are there no turnings nor windings, by which
a stranger may lose his way?

GOODWILL: Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked
and wide: but thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the
right only being strait and narrow. Matt. 7:14.

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

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

Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his
journey. So the other told him, that by that he was gone some distance from
the gate, he would come to 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, [6] where he
knocked over and over. At last one came to the door, and asked who was
there.

CHRISTIAN: Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaintance of the
good man of this house to call here for my profit; I would therefore speak
with the master of the house.

So he called for the master of the house, who, after a little time, came to
Christian, and asked him what he would have.

CHRISTIAN: Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the city of
Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the man that
stands at the gate at the head of this way, that if I called here you would
show me excellent things, such as would be helpful to me on my journey.

INTERPRETER: Then said 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 the picture a very
grave person hang up against the wall; and this was the fashion of it: It
had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in his 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.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, What means this?

INTERPRETER: The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand: he can
beget children, 1 Cor. 4:15, travail in birth with children, Gal. 4:19, and
nurse them himself when they are born. And whereas thou seest him with his
eyes lift up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, and the law of truth
writ on his lips: it is to show thee, that his work is to know, and unfold
dark things to sinners; even as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded
with men. And whereas thou seest the world as cast behind him, and that a
crown hangs over his head; that is to show thee, that slighting and
despising the things that are present, for the love that he hath to his
Master’s service, he is sure in the world that comes next, to have glory for
his reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have showed thee this picture
first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord
of the place whither thou art going hath authorized to be thy guide in all
difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way: wherefore take good heed
to what I 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 had 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.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, What means this?

INTERPRETER: The Interpreter answered, This parlor is the heart of a man
that was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the Gospel. The dust is his
original sin, and inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He
that began to sweep at first, is the law; but she that brought water, and
did sprinkle it, is the Gospel. Now whereas thou sawest, that so soon as the
first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about that the room by him could
not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost choked therewith; this is to show
thee, that the law, instead of cleansing the heart (by its working) from
sin, doth revive, Rom. 7:9, put strength into, 1 Cor. 15:56, and increase it
in the soul, Rom. 5:20, even as it doth discover and forbid it; for it doth
not give power to subdue. Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room
with water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure, this is to show thee,
that when the Gospel comes in the sweet and precious influences thereof to
the heart, then, I say, even as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by
sprinkling the floor with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the
soul made clean, through the faith of it, and consequently fit for the King
of glory to inhabit. John 15:3; Eph. 5:26; Acts 15:9; Rom. 16:25,26.

I saw moreover in my dream, that the Interpreter took him by the hand, and
had him into a little room, where sat two little children, each one in his
chair. The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the other
Patience. Passion seemed to be much disconted, but Patience was very quiet.
Then Christian asked, “What is the reason of the discontent of Passion?” The
Interpreter answered, “The governor of them would have him stay for his best
things till the beginning of the next year, but he will have all now; but
Patience is willing to wait.”

Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him a bag of treasure, and
poured it down at his feet: the which he took up, and rejoiced therein, and
withal laughed Patience to scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had
lavished all away, and had nothing left him but rags.

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

INTERPRETER: So he said, These two lads are figures; Passion of the men of
this world, and Patience of the men of that which is to come; for, as here
thou seest, passion will have all now, this year, that is to say, in this
world; so are the men of this world: They must have all their good things
now; they cannot stay till the next year, that is, until the next world, for
their portion of good. That proverb, “A bird in the hand is worth two in the
bush,” is of more authority with them than are all the divine testimonies of
the good of the world to come. But as thou sawest that he had quickly
lavished all away, and had presently left him nothing but rags, so will it
be with all such men at the end of this world.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom,
and that upon many accounts. 1. Because he stays for the best things. 2. And
also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has nothing but
rags.

INTERPRETER: Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world
will never wear out; but these are suddenly gone. Therefore Passion had not
so much reason to laugh at Patience because he had his good things first, as
Patience will have to laugh at Passion because he had his best things last;
for first must give place to last, because last must have his time to come:
but last gives place to nothing, for there is not another to succeed. He,
therefore, that hath his portion first, must needs have a time to spend it;
but he that hath his portion last, must have it lastingly: therefore it is
said of Dives, “In thy lifetime thou receivedst thy good things, and
likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art
tormented.” Luke 16:25.

CHRISTIAN: Then I perceive it is not best to cover things that are now, but
to wait for things to come.

INTERPRETER: You say truth: for the things that are seen are temporal, but
the things that are not seen are eternal. 2 Cor. 4:18. But though this be
so, yet since things present and our fleshly appetite are such near
neighbors one to another; and again, because things to come and carnal sense
are such strangers one to another; therefore it is, that the first of these
so suddenly fall into amity, and that distance is so continued between the
second.

Then I saw in my dream, that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand, and
led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one
standing by it, always 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
back side of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand,
of the which he did also continually cast (but secretly) into the fire.

Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil of
his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart; by the means of
which, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his people prove
gracious still. 2 Cor. 12:9. And in that thou sawest that the man stood
behind the wall to maintain the fire; this is to teach thee, that it is hard
for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul.

I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him
into a pleasant place, where was 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 gold.

Then said Christian may we go in thither?

Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the
palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to
go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the
door, at a table-side, with a book and his inkhorn before him, to take the
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 countenance come up to the man that sat
there to write, saying, “Set down my name, sir;” the which when he had done,
he saw the man draw his sword, and put a helmet on his head, and rush
towards the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force;
but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most
fiercely. So after he had received and given many wounds to those that
attempted to keep him out, Matt. 11:12; Acts 14:22; he cut his way through
them all, and pressed forward into the palace; at which there was a pleasant
voice heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the
top of the palace, saying,


“Come in, come in,

Eternal glory thou shalt win.”

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

Now, said Christian, let me go hence. Nay, stay, said the Interpreter, till
I have showed thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on thy way.
So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark room, where
there sat a man in an iron cage.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: What wast thou once?

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

CHRISTIAN: Well, but what art thou now?

THE 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!

CHRISTIAN: But how camest thou into this condition?

THE MAN: I left off to watch and be sober: I laid the reins upon the neck of
my lusts; I sinned against the light of the word, and the goodness of God; I
have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and he is come
to me; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me: I have so hardened
my heart, that I cannot repent.

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

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in
the iron cage of despair?

THE MAN: No, none at all.

CHRISTIAN: Why, the Son of the Blessed is very pitiful.

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

CHRISTIAN: For what did you bring yourself into this condition?

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

CHRISTIAN: But canst thou not now repent and turn?

THE 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?

INTERPRETER: Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man’s misery
be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

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

So he took Christian by the hand again and led him into a chamber where
there was one rising out of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook and
trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble? The
Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing.

So he began, and said, “This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and
behold the heavens grew exceeding black; also it thundered and lightened in
most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony. So I looked up in my dream,
and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate; upon which I heard a great sound
of a trumpet, and saw also a man sitting upon a cloud, attended with the
thousands of heaven: they were all in flaming fire; also the heavens were in
a burning flame. I heard then a voice, saying, ‘Arise, ye dead, and come to
judgment.’ And with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead
that were therein came forth: some of them were exceeding glad, and looked
upward; and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains. Then I saw
the man that sat upon the cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near.
Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame that issued out and came from
before him, a convenient distance between him and them, as between the judge
and the prisoners at the bar. 1 Cor. 15; 1 Thess. 4:16; Jude 15; John 5:
28,29; 2 Thess. 1:8-10; Rev. 20:11-14; Isa. 26:21; Micah 7:16,17; Psa. 5:4;
50:1-3; Mal. 3:2,3; Dan. 7:9,10. I heard it also proclaimed to them that
attended on the man that sat on the cloud, ‘Gather together the tares, the
chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake.’ Matt. 3:12; 18:30;
24:30; Mal. 4:1. And with that the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I
stood; out of the mouth of which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke,
and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same
persons, ‘Gather my wheat into the garner.’ Luke 3:17. And with that I saw
many catched up and carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind. 1
Thess. 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. Rom. 2:14,15. Upon
this I awakened from my sleep.”

CHRISTIAN: But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight?

THE MAN: Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was
not ready for it: but this frightened me most, that the angels gathered up
several, and left me behind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just
where I stood. My conscience too afflicted me; and, as I thought, the Judge
had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in his countenance.

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

CHRISTIAN: Yes, and they put me in hope and fear.

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


“Here I have seen things 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.”
_________________________________________________________________

[6] The Holy Spirit.
_________________________________________________________________

THE THIRD STAGE

Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go, was
fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called Salvation.
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 ascending; and upon that place
stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre. So I saw in
my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed
from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and
so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell
in, and I saw it no more.

Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, “He hath
given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.” Then he stood still a
while, to look and wonder; for it was very surprising to him that the sight
of the cross should thus ease him of his burden. He looked, therefore, and
looked again, even till the springs that were in his head sent the waters
down his cheeks. Zech. 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, Zech. 3:4;
the third also set a mark on his forehead, Eph. 1:13, and gave him a roll
with a seal upon it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he should
give it in at the celestial gate: 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!

Must here be the beginning of my bliss?

Must here the burden fall from off my back?

Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?

Blest cross! blest sepulchre! blest rather be

The Man that there was 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
fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, of another Sloth,
and of the third Presumption.

Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if peradventure
he might awake them, and cried, you are like them that sleep on the top of a
mast, Prov. 23:34, for the Dead Sea is under you, a gulf that hath no
bottom: awake, therefore, and come away; be willing also, and I will help
you off with your irons. He also told them, If he that goeth about like a
roaring lion, 1 Pet. 5:8, comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his
teeth. With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort:
Simple said, I see no danger; Sloth said, Yet a little more sleep; and
Presumption said, Every tub must stand upon its own bottom. And so they lay
down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way.

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

CHRISTIAN: Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither do you go?

FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY: We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are
going, for praise, to Mount Zion.

CHRISTIAN: Why came you not in at the gate which standeth 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: They said, that to go to the gate for entrance was
by all their countrymen counted too far about; and that therefore their
usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as they
had done.

CHRISTIAN: But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the
city whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will?

FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY: 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.

CHRISTIAN: But, said Christian, will you stand a trial at law?

FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY: They told him, that custom, it being of so long
standing as above a thousand years, would doubtless now be admitted as a
thing legal by an impartial judge: and besides, said they, if we get into
the way, what matter is it which way we get in? If we are in, we are in:
thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate; and we
also are in the way, that came tumbling over the wall: wherein now is thy
condition better than ours?

CHRISTIAN: I walk by the rule of my Master: you walk by the rude working of
your fancies. You are counted thieves already by the Lord of the way:
therefore I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You
come in by yourselves without his direction, and shall go out by yourselves
without his mercy.

To this they made him but little answer; only they bid him look to himself.
Then I saw that they went on, every man in his way, without much conference
one with another, save that these two men told Christian, that as to laws
and ordinances, they doubted not but that they should as conscientiously do
them as he. Therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us,
but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given thee by
some of thy neighbors, to hide the shame of thy nakedness.

CHRISTIAN: By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not
in by the door. Gal. 2:16. And as for this coat that is on my back, it was
given me by the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you say, to
cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token of kindness to me; for I
had nothing but rags before. And besides, thus I comfort myself as I go.
Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord thereof will
know me for good, since I have his coat on my back; a coat that he gave me
freely in the day that he stripped me of my rags. I have, moreover, a mark
in my forehead, of which perhaps you have taken no notice, which one of my
Lord’s most intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell
off my shoulders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll
sealed, to comfort me by reading as I go on the way; I was also bid to give
it in at the celestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it: all
which things I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the
gate.

To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each other,
and laughed. Then I saw that they went all on, save that Christian kept
before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that sometimes sighingly,
and sometimes comfortably: also he would be often reading in the roll that
one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which he was refreshed.

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


“The hill, though high, I covet to ascend;

The difficulty will not me offend;

For I perceive the way to life lies here:

Come, pluck up heart, let’s neither faint nor fear.

Better, though 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
supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up which
Christian went, on the other side of the hill; therefore they were resolved
to go in those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the
name of the other Destruction. So the one took the way which is called
Danger, which led him into a great wood; and the other took directly up the
way to Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark mountains,
where he stumbled and fell, and rose no more.

I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived
he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands
and his knees, because of the steepness of the place. Now about the 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: then he pulled his roll out of his
bosom, and read therein to his comfort; he also now began afresh to take a
review of the coat or garment that was given to him as he stood by the
cross. Thus pleasing himself awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and
thence into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was
almost night; and in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand. Now, as he was
sleeping, there came one to him, and awaked him, saying, “Go to the ant,
thou sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise.” Prov. 6:6. And with that,
Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace till
he came to the top of the hill.

Now when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men running
amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the 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 reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, You make me afraid; but whither shall I fly
to be safe? If I go back to mine own country, that is prepared for 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 death: to go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it: I
will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timorous ran down the hill, and
Christian went on his way. But thinking again of what he had heard from the
men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein and be
comforted; but he felt, and found it not. Then was Christian in great
distress, and knew not what to do; for he wanted that which used to relieve
him, and that which should have been his pass into the celestial city. Here,
therefore, he began to be much perplexed, and knew not what to do. At last
he bethought himself that he had slept in the arbor that is on the side of
the hill; and falling down upon his knees, he asked God forgiveness for that
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 in sight of the arbor where he
sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing
again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping unto his mind. Rev. 2:4; 1 Thess.
5:6-8. Thus, therefore, he now went on, bewailing his sinful sleep, saying,
O wretched man that I am, that I should sleep in the daytime! that I should
sleep in the midst of difficulty! that I should so indulge the flesh as to
use that rest for ease to my flesh which the Lord of the hill hath erected
only for the relief of the spirits of pilgrims! How many steps have I 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; but at last, (as Providence would have it,) looking
sorrowfully down under the settle, there he espied his roll, the which he
with trembling and haste catched up, and put it into his bosom. But who can
tell how joyful this man was when he had gotten his roll again? For this
roll was the assurance of his life, and acceptance at the desired haven.
Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God for directing his
eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again
to his journey. But O how nimbly did he go up the rest of the hill! Yet
before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian; and this made him again
recall the vanity of his sleeping to his remembrance; and thus he again
began to condole with himself: Oh thou sinful sleep! how for thy sake am I
like to be benighted in my journey! 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 Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of
the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the
night for their prey; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how
should I shift them? how should I escape being by them torn in pieces? Thus
he went on his way. But while he was 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 by the highway-side.

So I saw in my dream that he made haste, and went forward, that if possible
he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far, he entered into a
very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off the Porter’s lodge, and
looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way.
Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timorous were driven
back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then he was
afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them; for he thought
nothing but death was before him. But the Porter at the lodge, whose name is
Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back,
cried unto him, saying, Is thy strength so small? Mark 4:40. Fear not the
lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where
it is, and for discovery of those that have none: keep in the midst of the
path, and no hurt shall come unto thee.

Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good
heed to the 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.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

THE PORTER: What is your name?

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

THE PORTER: But how does it happen that you come so late? The sun is set.

CHRISTIAN: I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am, I slept
in the arbor that stands on the hill-side! Nay, I had, notwithstanding that,
been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evidence, and came
without it to the brow of the hill; and then feeling for it, and not finding
it, 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.

THE PORTER: Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who
will, if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family,
according to the rules of the house. So Watchful the Porter rang a bell, at
the sound of which came out 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; and he told her.
She asked him also how he got into the way; and he told her. Then she asked
him what he had seen and met with in the way, and he told her. And at last
she asked his name. So he said, It is Christian; and I have so much the more
a desire to lodge here to-night, because, by what I perceive, this place was
built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and security of pilgrims. So
she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes; and after a little pause she
said, I will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the
door, and called out Prudence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more
discourse with him, had him into the family; and many of them meeting him at
the threshold of the house, said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; this
house was built by the Lord of the hill on purpose to entertain such
pilgrims in. Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So
when he was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and
consented together that, until supper was ready, some of them should have
some particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time;
and they appointed Piety, Prudence, and Charity to discourse with him: and
thus they began.

PIETY: Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving to you as to
receive you into our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better
ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you in
your pilgrimage.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

CHRISTIAN: I was driven out of my native country by a dreadful sound that
was in mine ears; to wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend me, if I
abode in that place where I was.

PIETY: But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way?

CHRISTIAN: It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of
destruction, I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a man,
even to me, as I was trembling and weeping, whose name is Evangelist, and he
directed me to the Wicket-gate, which else I should never have found, and so
set me into the way that hath led me directly to this house.

PIETY: But did you not come by the house of the Interpreter?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will
stick by me as 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
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?

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

PIETY: Was this all you saw at the house of the Interpreter?

CHRISTIAN: 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?

CHRISTIAN: 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 before: yea, and while I stood looking up, (for then I
could not forbear looking,) three Shining Ones came to me. One of them
testified that my sins were forgiven me; another 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?

CHRISTIAN: The things that I have told you were the best: yet some other I
saw, as, namely, I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie
asleep, a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their heels; but
do you think I could awake them? I also saw 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: Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came?

CHRISTIAN: Yea, but with much shame and detestation. Truly, if I had been
mindful of that country from whence I came out, I might have had opportunity
to have returned; but now I desire a better country, that is, a heavenly
one. Heb. 11:15,16.

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

CHRISTIAN: 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 never to think of those things more: but
when I would be a doing that which is best, that which is worst is with me.
Rom. 7:15, 21.

PRUDENCE: Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished,
which at other times are your perplexity?

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

PRUDENCE: Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times
as if they were vanquished?

CHRISTIAN: Yes: when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it; and
when I look upon my broidered coat, that will do it; and when I look into
the roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my thoughts wax
warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

PRUDENCE: And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion?

CHRISTIAN: Why, there I hope to see Him alive that did hang dead on the
cross; and there I hope to be rid of all those things that to this day are
in me an annoyance to me: there they say there is no death, Isa. 25:8; Rev.
21:4; and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best. For, to tell
you the truth, I love Him because I was by Him eased of my burden; and I am
weary of my inward sickness. I would fain be where I shall die no more, and
with the company that shall continually cry, Holy, holy, holy.

Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family; Are you a married man?

CHRISTIAN: I have a wife and four small children.

CHARITY: And why did you not bring them along with you?

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

CHARITY: But you should have talked to them, and have endeavored to show
them the danger of staying behind.

CHRISTIAN: 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. Gen. 19:14.

CHARITY: And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them?

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

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

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

CHARITY: But what could they say for themselves, why they came not?

CHRISTIAN: Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and my children
were given to the foolish delights of youth; so, what by one thing, and what
by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone.

CHARITY: 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?

CHRISTIAN: Indeed, I cannot commend my life, for I am conscious to myself of
many failings therein. I know also, that a man, by his conversation, may
soon overthrow what, by argument or persuasion, he doth labor to fasten upon
others for their good. Yet this I can say, I was 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.

CHARITY: Indeed, Cain hated his brother, because his own works were evil,
and his brother’s righteous, 1 John, 3:12; and if thy wife and children have
been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be
implacable to good; thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood. Ezek.
3:19.

Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper was
ready. So when they had made ready, they sat down to meat. Now the table was
furnished with fat things, and with wine that was well refined; and all
their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill; as, namely, about
what he had done, and wherefore he did what he did, and why he had builded
that house; and by what they said, I perceived that he had been a great
warrior, and had fought with and slain him that had the power of death, Heb.
2:14,15; but not without great danger to himself, which made me love him the
more.

For, as they said, and as I believe, said Christian, he did it with the loss
of much blood. But that which put the glory of grace into all he did, was,
that he did it out of pure love to his country. And besides, there were some
of them of the household that said they had been and spoke with him since he
did die on the cross; and they have attested that they had it from his own
lips, that he is such a lover of poor pilgrims, that the like is not to be
found from the east to the west. They, moreover, gave an instance of what
they affirmed; and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory that he
might do this for the poor; and that they heard him say and affirm, that he
would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone. They said, moreover, that he
had made many pilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and
their original had been the dunghill. 1 Sam. 2:8; Psa. 113:7.

Thus they discoursed together till late at night; and after they had
committed themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to
rest. The pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened
towards the sun-rising. The name of the chamber was Peace, where he slept
till break of day, and then he awoke and sang,


“Where am I now? Is this the love and care

Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are,

Thus to provide that I should be forgiven,

And dwell already the next door to heaven!”

So in the morning they all got up; and, after some more discourse, they told
him that he should not depart till they had shown him the rarities of that
place. And first they had him into the study, where they showed him records
of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I remember my dream, they showed him
the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the Son of the Ancient of
days, and came by 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. Heb.
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 other histories of many other famous
things, of all which Christian had a view; as of things both ancient and
modern, together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their
certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement of enemies, and the
comfort and solace of pilgrims.

The next day they took him, and had him into the armory, where they showed
him all manner of furniture which their Lord 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.

They also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants had
done wonderful things. They showed him Moses’ rod; the hammer and nail with
which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which
Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox-goad
wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They showed him also the jawbone
with which Samson did such mighty feats. They showed him moreover the sling
and stone with which David slew Goliath of Gath; and the sword also with
which their Lord will kill the man of sin, in the day that he shall rise up
to the prey. They showed him besides many excellent things, with which
Christian was much delighted. This done, they went to their rest again.

Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward, but they
desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we will, if
the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains; which, they said, 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 to the top of the house, and bid him look
south. So he did, and behold, at a great distance, he saw a most pleasant
mountainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts,
flowers also, with springs and fountains, very delectable to behold. Isa.
33:16,17. Then he asked the name of the country. They said it was
Immanuel’s land; and it is as common, said they, as this hill is, to and for
all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence thou mayest see to
the gate of the celestial city, as the shepherds that live there will make
appear.

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

CHRISTIAN: Pray, did you know him? said he.

THE PORTER: I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful.

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

THE PORTER: He is got by this time below the hill.

CHRISTIAN: Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add
to all thy plain blessings much increase for the kindness that thou hast
showed me.
_________________________________________________________________

THE FOURTH STAGE

Then he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence
would accompany him down to the foot of the hill. So they went on together,
reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill.
Then said 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 Humiliation, as thou art now,
and to catch no slip by the way; therefore, said they, we are come out to
accompany thee down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily; yet
he caught a slip or two.

Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, 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 on his way,


“Whilst Christian is among his godly friends,

Their golden mouths make him sufficient mends

For all his griefs; and when they let him go,

He’s clad with northern steel from top to toe.”

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

So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold:
he was clothed with scales like a fish, and they are his pride; he had wings
like a dragon, and feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and
smoke; and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come up to
Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to
question him.

APOLLYON: Whence came you, and whither are you bound?

CHRISTIAN: I am come from the city of Destruction, which is the place of all
evil, and I am going to the city of Zion.

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

CHRISTIAN: 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, Rom. 6:23; therefore, when I was come to years, I did, as other
considerate persons do, look out if perhaps I might mend myself.

APOLLYON: 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 wages, be content to go back, and what our country will afford I do here
promise to give thee.

CHRISTIAN: But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes;
and how can I with fairness go back with thee?

APOLLYON: Thou hast done in this according to the proverb, “changed a bad
for a worse;” but it is ordinary for those that have professed themselves
his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do
thou so to, and all shall be well.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: What I promised thee was in my non-age: and besides, I count that
the Prince, under whose banner I now stand, is able to absolve me, yea, and
to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee. And besides, O thou
destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like his service, his wages, his
servants, his government, his company, and country, better than thine;
therefore leave off to persuade me farther: I am his servant, and I will
follow him.

APOLLYON: Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to
meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that for the most part
his servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors 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 yet came from
the place where he is, to deliver any that served him out of their
enemies’ 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 will I
deliver thee.

CHRISTIAN: 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 present deliverance, they do not much expect it; for they stay for their
glory; and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in his and the
glory of the angels.

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

CHRISTIAN: Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him?

APOLLYON: Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost
choked in the gulf of Despond. Thou didst attempt wrong 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 almost
persuaded also to go back at the sight of the lions. And when thou talkest
of thy journey, and of what thou hast seen and heard, thou art inwardly
desirous of vainglory in all that thou sayest or doest.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

APOLLYON: Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, saying, I am an
enemy to this Prince; I hate his person, his laws, and people: I am come out
on purpose to withstand thee.

CHRISTIAN: Apollyon, beware what you do, for I am in the King’s highway, the
way of holiness; therefore take heed to yourself.

APOLLYON: Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way,
and said, I am void of fear in this matter. Prepare thyself to die; for I
swear by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no 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 Apollyon
as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the which,
notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon wounded
him in his head, his hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back:
Apollyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian again took
courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted for
above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent: for you must
know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and
weaker.

Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to
Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with that
Christian’s sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of
thee 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,
saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I shall arise,
Mic. 7:8; and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which made him give back,
as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made
at him again, saying, Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors,
through Him that loved us. Rom. 8:37. And with that Apollyon spread forth
his dragon wings, and sped him away, that Christian saw him no more. James
4:7.

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

So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to him
that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me
against Apollyon. And so he did, saying,


“Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend,

Designed my ruin; therefore to this end

He sent him harness’d out; and he, with rage

That hellish was, did fiercely me engage:

But blessed Michael helped me, and I,

By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly:

Therefore to Him let me give lasting praise,

And thank and bless his holy name always.”

Then there came to him a hand with some of the leaves of the tree of life,
the which Christian took and applied to the wounds that he had received in
the battle, and was healed immediately. He also sat down in that place to
eat bread, and to drink of the bottle that was given him a little before:
so, being refreshed, he addressed himself to his journey with his sword
drawn in his hand; for he said, I know not but some other enemy may be at
hand. But he met with no other affront from Apollyon quite through this
valley.

Now at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the Shadow
of Death; and Christian must needs go through it, because the way to the
Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now, this valley is a very
solitary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: “A wilderness, a
land of deserts and pits, a land of drought, and of the Shadow of Death, a
land that no man” (but a Christian) “passeth through, and where no man
dwelt.” Jer. 2:6.

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

I saw then in my dream, that when Christian was got to the borders of the
Shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an
evil report of the good land Num.13:32, making haste to go back; to whom
Christian spake as follows.

CHRISTIAN: Whither are you going?

THE TWO MEN: They said, Back, back; and we would have you do so too, if
either life or peace is prized by you.

CHRISTIAN: Why, what’s the matter? said Christian.

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

CHRISTIAN: But what have you met with? said Christian.

THE TWO MEN: Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but
that by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to
it. Psa. 44:19; 107:19.

CHRISTIAN: But what have you seen? said Christian.

THE TWO 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 continual howling and yelling, as of a people under
unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons: and over
that valley hang the discouraging clouds of confusion: Death also doth
always spread his wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being
utterly without order. Job 3:5; 10:22.

CHRISTIAN: Then, said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said,
but that this is my way to the desired haven. Psalm 44:18,19; Jer. 2:6.

THE TWO MEN: Be it thy way; we will not choose it for ours.

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

I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the
right hand a very deep ditch; that ditch is it into which the blind have led
the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished. Again,
behold, on the left hand there was a very dangerous quag, into which, if
even a good man falls, he finds no bottom for his foot to stand on: into
that quag king David once did fall, and had no doubt therein been smothered,
had not He that is able plucked him out. Psa. 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 besides the danger mentioned above, the pathway was here so
dark, that ofttimes when he lifted up his foot to go forward, he knew not
where, or upon what he should set it next.

About the midst of this valley I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and it
stood also hard by the wayside. Now, thought Christian, what shall I do? And
ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with
sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for 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. 6:18; so he cried, in my
hearing, O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul. Psa. 116:4. Thus he went
on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him; also
he heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he
thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like mire in the
streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dreadful noises were heard
by him for several miles together; and coming to a place where he thought he
heard a company of fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped, and began
to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to go back;
then again he thought he might be half-way through the valley. He remembered
also, how he had already vanquished many a danger; and that the danger of
going back might be much more than for to go forward. So he resolved to go
on; yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer. But when they were come
even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, I will walk in
the strength of the Lord God. So they gave back, and came no farther.

One thing I would not let slip. I took notice that now poor Christian was so
confounded that he did not know his own voice; and thus I perceived it. Just
when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the
wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly
suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily thought had
proceeded from his own mind. This put Christian more to it than any thing
that he met with before, even to think that he should now blaspheme Him that
he loved so much 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 blasphemies came.

When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some
considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going before
him, saying, Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will
fear no evil, for thou art with me. Psa. 23:4.

Then was he glad, and that for these reasons:

First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in
this valley as well as himself.

Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark and
dismal state. And why not, thought he, with me? though by reason of the
impediment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it. Job 9:11.

Thirdly, For that he hoped (could he overtake them) to have company by and
by.

So he went on, and called to him that was before; but he knew not what to
answer, for that he also thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day
broke: then said Christian, “He hath turned the shadow of 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. Also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and dragons of the pit,
but all afar off; for after break of day they came not nigh; yet they were
discovered to him, according to that which is written, “He 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 deliverance 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 time the sun was rising, and this was
another mercy to Christian; for you must note, that though the first part of
the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet this second part, which
he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more dangerous; for, from the place
where he now stood, even to the end of the valley, the way was all along set
so full of snares, traps, gins, and nets here, and so full of pits,
pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings-down there, that had it now been dark,
as it was when he came the first part of the way, had he had a thousand
souls, they had in reason been cast away; but, as I said, just now the sun
was rising. Then said he, “His Candle shineth on my head, and by his light I
go through darkness.” 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 formerly; and while I
was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little before me a cave,
where two giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old times; by whose power and
tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, etc., lay there, were cruelly put
to death. But by this place Christian went without much danger, whereat I
somewhat wondered; but I have learnt since, that Pagan has been dead many a
day; and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age,
and also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger days,
grown so crazy and stiff in his joints that he can now do little more than
sit in his cave’s mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his
nails because he cannot come at them.

So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight of the old man
that sat 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,
saying, You will never mend, till more of you be burned. But he held his
peace, and set a good face on it; and so went by, and catched no hurt. Then
sang Christian,


“O world of wonders, (I can say no less,)

That I should be preserved in that distress

That I have met with here! O blessed be

That hand that from it hath delivered me!

Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin,

Did compass me, while I this vale was in;

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

My path about, that worthless, silly I

Might have been catch’d, entangled, and cast down;

But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE FIFTH STAGE

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

At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he
quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him; so the last was
first. Then did Christian vaingloriously smile, because he had gotten the
start of his brother; but not taking good heed to his feet, he suddenly
stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful came up to help
him.

Then I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly on together, and had sweet
discourse of all things that had happened to them in their pilgrimage; and
thus Christian began.

CHRISTIAN: My honored and well-beloved brother Faithful, I am glad that I
have overtaken you, and that God has so tempered our spirits that we can
walk as companions in this so pleasant a path.

FAITHFUL: I had thought, my dear friend, to have had your company quite from
our town, but you did get the start of me; wherefore I was forced to come
thus much of the way alone.

CHRISTIAN: How long did you stay in the city of Destruction before you set
out after me on your pilgrimage?

FAITHFUL: Till I could stay no longer; for there was a great talk presently
after you were gone out, that our city would, in a short time, with fire
from heaven, be burnt down to the ground.

CHRISTIAN: What, did your neighbors talk so?

FAITHFUL: Yes, it was for a while in every body’s mouth.

CHRISTIAN: What, and did no more of them but you come out to escape the
danger?

FAITHFUL: Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not
think they did firmly believe it; for, in the heat of the discourse, I heard
some of them deridingly speak of you and of your desperate journey, for so
they called this your pilgrimage. But I did believe, and do still, that the
end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above; and therefore I
have made my escape.

CHRISTIAN: Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable?

FAITHFUL: 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.

CHRISTIAN: And what said the neighbors to him?

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

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

FAITHFUL: 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. Jer. 29:18,19.

CHRISTIAN: Had you no talk with him before you came out?

FAITHFUL: 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.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: 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.

FAITHFUL: I escaped the slough that I perceive you fell into, and got up to
the gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton,
that had like to have done me mischief.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

FAITHFUL: You cannot think (but that you know something) what a flattering
tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me all
manner of content.

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

FAITHFUL: You know what I mean; all carnal and fleshly content.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires?

FAITHFUL: 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.

CHRISTIAN: Did you meet with no other assault as you came?

FAITHFUL: When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with
a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound. I told him that
I was a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou
lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell with me for the
wages that I shall give thee? Then I asked his name, and where he dwelt? He
said his name was Adam the First, and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit.
Eph. 4:22. I asked him then what was his work, and what the wages that he
would give. He told me that his work was many delights; and his wages, that
I should be his heir 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 world, and that his servants were those of his own
begetting. Then I asked how many children he had. He said that he had but
three daughters, the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride
of Life, 1 John, 2:16; and that I should marry them if I would. Then I
asked, how long time he would have me live with him; And he told me, as long
as he lived himself.

CHRISTIAN: Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last?

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

CHRISTIAN: And how then?

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

Now, when I had got above half-way up, I looked behind me, and saw one
coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place
where the settle stands.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

FAITHFUL: But, good brother, hear me out. So soon as the man overtook me, it
was but a word and a blow; for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But
when I was a little come to myself again I asked him wherefore he served me
so. He said because of my secret inclining to Adam the First. And with that
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 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.

CHRISTIAN: Who was that that bid him forbear?

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

CHRISTIAN: That man that overtook you was Moses. He spareth none; neither
knoweth he how to shew mercy to those that transgress the law.

FAITHFUL: 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.

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

FAITHFUL: Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it. But, for the lions, I
think they were asleep, for it was about noon; and because I had so much of
the day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the hill.

CHRISTIAN: He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by; but I wish you had
called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities that
you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell
me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility?

FAITHFUL: Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded
me to go back again with him: his reason was, for that the valley was
altogether without honor. He told me, moreover, that 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.

CHRISTIAN: Well, and how did you answer him?

FAITHFUL: I told him, that although all these that he named, might claim a
kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my relations
according to the flesh,) yet since I became a pilgrim they have disowned me,
and I also have rejected them; and therefore they were to me now no more
than if they had never been of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that as to
this valley, he had quite misrepresented the thing; for before honor is
humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall. Therefore, said I, I had
rather go through this valley to the honor that was so accounted by the
wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most worthy of our affections.

CHRISTIAN: Met you with nothing else in that valley?

FAITHFUL: Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the men that I met with on my
pilgrimage, he, I 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.

CHRISTIAN: Why, what did he say to you?

FAITHFUL: What? why, he objected against religion itself. He said it was a
pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion. He said, that a
tender conscience was an unmanly thing; and that for a man to watch over his
words and ways, so as to tie up himself from that hectoring liberty that the
brave spirits of the times accustomed themselves unto, would make him the
ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few of the mighty, rich,
or wise, were ever of my 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 knows what. 1 Cor. 1:26; 3:18; Phil. 3:7-9; John 7:48. He,
moreover, objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were
chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived; also their ignorance
and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it
at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I relate; as,
that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame
to come sighing and groaning home; that it was a shame to ask my neighbor
forgiveness for petty faults, or to make restitution where I have taken from
any. He said also, that religion made a man grow strange to the great,
because of a few vices, which he called by finer names, and made him own and
respect the base, because of the same religious fraternity: And is not this,
said he, a shame?

CHRISTIAN: And what did you say to him?

FAITHFUL: 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 we shall not be doomed to death or life according to the
hectoring spirits of the world, but according to the wisdom and law of the
Highest. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, is indeed best, though
all the men in the world are against it. Seeing, then, that God prefers his
religion; seeing God prefers a tender Conscience; seeing they that make
themselves fools for the kingdom of heaven are wisest, and that the poor man
that loveth Christ is richer than the greatest man in the world that hates
him; Shame, depart, thou art an enemy to my salvation. Shall I entertain
thee against my sovereign Lord? How then shall I look him in the face at his
coming? 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
continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the
infirmities that attend religion. But at last I told him, that it was but in
vain to 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 withal,

That are obedient to the heavenly call,

Are manifold, and suited to the flesh,

And come, and come, and come again afresh;

That now, or some time else, we by them may

Be taken, overcome, and cast away.

O let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims then,

Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men.”

CHRISTIAN: I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand this villain so
bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I 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; that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good. But if he
was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does. But let
us still resist him; for, notwithstanding all his bravadoes, he promoteth
the fool, and none else. “The wise shall inherit glory,” said Solomon; “but
shame shall be the promotion of fools.” Prov. 3:35.

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

CHRISTIAN: You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that valley?

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

CHRISTIAN: ‘Twas well for you; I am sure it fared far otherwise with me. I
had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, a
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 beside them; for in this place there was room enough for them all
to walk. He was a tall man, and something more comely at a distance than at
hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner.

FAITHFUL: Friend, whither away? Are you going to the heavenly country?

TALKATIVE: I am going to the same place.

FAITHFUL: That is well; then I hope we shall have your good company?

TALKATIVE: With a very good will, will I be your companion.

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

TALKATIVE: To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, with
you or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline
to so good a work; for, to speak the truth, there are but few who care thus
to spend their time as they are in their travels, but choose much rather to
be speaking of things to no profit; and this hath been a trouble to me.

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

TALKATIVE: I like you wonderful well, for your saying is full of conviction;
and I will add, What thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to
talk of the things of God? 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?

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

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

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

TALKATIVE: 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.

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

TALKATIVE: All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing, except
it be given him from heaven: all is of grace, not of works. I could give you
a hundred scriptures for the confirmation of this.

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

TALKATIVE: What you will. I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly;
things moral, or things evangelical; things sacred, or things profane;
things past, or things to come; things foreign, or things at home; things
more essential, or things circumstantial: provided that all be done to our
profit.

FAITHFUL: Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian, (for
he walked all this while by himself,) he said to him, but softly, What a
brave companion have we got! Surely, this man will make a very excellent
pilgrim.

CHRISTIAN: At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with whom
you are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his, twenty of them that
know him not.

FAITHFUL: Do you know him, then?

CHRISTIAN: Know him? Yes, better than he knows himself.

FAITHFUL: Pray what is he?

CHRISTIAN: His name is Talkative: he dwelleth in our town. I wonder that you
should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our town is large.

FAITHFUL: Whose son is he? And whereabout doth he dwell?

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

FAITHFUL: Well, he seems to be a very pretty man.

CHRISTIAN: That is, to them that have not a thorough acquaintance with him,
for he is best abroad; near home he is ugly enough. Your saying that he is a
pretty man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of a painter,
whose pictures show best at a distance; but very near, more unpleasing.

FAITHFUL: But I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

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

CHRISTIAN: Deceived! you may be sure of it. Remember the proverb, “They say,
and do not;” but the kingdom of God is not in word, 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 religion as the white of an egg is of
savor. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin; yea,
the brute, in his kind, serves God far better than he. He is the very stain,
reproach, and shame of religion to all that know him, 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 people that know him, “A saint abroad, and a devil
at home.” His poor family finds it so; he is such a churl, such a railer at,
and so unreasonable with his servants, that they neither know how to do for
or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him say, It is better to
deal with a Turk than with him, for fairer dealings they shall have at their
hands. This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them, defraud,
beguile, and overreach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to follow his
steps; and if he finds in any of them a foolish timorousness, (for so he
calls the first appearance of a tender conscience,) he calls them fools and
blockheads, and by no means will employ 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.

FAITHFUL: 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.

CHRISTIAN: Had I known him no more than you, I might, perhaps, have thought
of him as at the first you did; yea, had I received this report at their
hands only that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a
slander-a lot that often falls from bad men’s mouths upon good men’s names
and professions. But all these things, yea, and a great many more as bad, of
my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed
of him; they can neither call him brother nor friend; the very naming of him
among them makes them blush, if they know him.

FAITHFUL: Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I
shall better observe this distinction.

CHRISTIAN: 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 carcass, so
saying, if it be alone, is but a dead carcass also. The soul of religion is
the practical part. “Pure religion and undefiled 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 compared 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.

FAITHFUL: 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, or that cheweth
the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet is unclean, because he
parteth not the hoof. And this truly resembleth Talkative: he cheweth the
cud, he seeketh knowledge; he cheweth upon the word, but he divideth not the
hoof. He parteth not with the way of sinners; but, as the hare, he retaineth
the foot of the dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean.

CHRISTIAN: You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel sense of these
texts. And I will add another thing: Paul calleth some men, yea, and those
great talkers too, sounding brass, 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 without life; that is, without the true faith and
grace of the gospel; and consequently, things that shall never be placed in
the kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of life; though
their sound, by their talk, be as if it were the tongue or voice of an
angel.

FAITHFUL: 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?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

FAITHFUL: What would you have me to do?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

FAITHFUL: Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come,
what cheer? How is it now?

TALKATIVE: Thank you, well: I thought we should have had a great deal of
talk by this time.

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

TALKATIVE: I perceive, then, that our talk must be about the power of
things. Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer
you. And take my answer in brief, thus: First, where the grace of God is in
the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly-

FAITHFUL: Nay, hold; let us consider of one at once. I think you should
rather say, it shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin.

TALKATIVE: Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and
abhorring of sin?

FAITHFUL: Oh! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin, of policy; but he
cannot abhor it but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it. I have heard
many cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in
the heart, house, and conversation. Gen. 39:15. Joseph’s mistress cried out
with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy; but she would willingly,
notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. Some cry out
against sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap, when
she calleth it slut and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing
it.

TALKATIVE: You lie at the catch, I perceive.

FAITHFUL: 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?

TALKATIVE: Great knowledge of gospel mysteries.

FAITHFUL: This sign should have been first: but, first or last, it is also
false; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained in the mysteries of
the Gospel, and yet no work of grace in 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 answered, Yes, he added, “Blessed are ye if ye do them.” He doth
not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For
there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing: “He that knoweth his
Master’s will, and doeth it not.” A man may know like an angel, and yet be
no Christian: therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know is a
thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters; but to do is that 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
accompanied with the grace of faith and love, which puts a man upon doing
even the will of God from the heart: the first of these will serve the
talker; but without the other, the true Christian is not content. “Give me
understanding, and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my
whole heart.” Psa. 119:34.

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

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

TALKATIVE: Not I, for I see we shall not agree.

FAITHFUL: Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it?

TALKATIVE: You may use your liberty.

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

To him that hath it, thus: It gives him conviction of sin, especially the
defilement of his nature, and the sin of unbelief, for the sake of which he
is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God’s hand, by faith in
Jesus Christ. This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame
for sin. Psa. 38:18; 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 Saviour of the
world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life; at the which
he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him; to which hungerings, etc.,
the promise is made. Now, according to the strength or weakness of his faith
in his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are
his desires to know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But
though, I say, it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom
that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace; because his
corruptions now, 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 conclude that this is a work of
grace. John 16:9; Gal. 2:15,16; Acts 4:12; Matt. 5:6; Rev. 21:6.

To others it is thus discovered:

1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ. 2. By a life
answerable to that 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 talkative person
may do, but by a practical subjection in faith and love to the power of the
word. Job 42:5,6; Psa. 50:23; Ezek. 20:43; Matt. 5:8; John 14:15; Rom.
10:10; Ezek. 36:25; Phil. 1:27; 3:17-20. And now, sir, as to this brief
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.

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

FAITHFUL: It is this: Do you experience this first part of the description
of it; and doth your life and conversation testify the same? Or standeth
your religion in word or tongue, and not in deed and truth? Pray, if you
incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will
say Amen to, and also 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, recovering himself, thus he
replied: You come now to experience, to conscience, and to God; and to
appeal to him for justification of what is spoken. This kind of discourse I
did not expect; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such questions,
because I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a
catechiser; and though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my
judge. But I pray, will you tell me why you ask me such questions?

FAITHFUL: Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you
had aught else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard
of you that you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and that your
conversation gives this your mouth-profession the lie. They say you are a
spot among Christians, and that religion fareth the worse for your ungodly
conversation; that some have already stumbled at your wicked ways, and that
more are in danger of being destroyed thereby: your religion, and an
ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and
vain company-keeping, etc., will stand together. The proverb is true of you
which is said of a harlot, to wit, “That she is a shame to all women:” so
are you a shame to all professors.

TALKATIVE: Since you are so ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly
as you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or melancholy man, not
fit to be discoursed with; and so adieu.

Then up came Christian, and said to his brother, I told you how it would
happen; your words and his lusts could not agree. He had rather leave your
company than reform his life. But he is gone, as I said: let him go; the
loss is no man’s but his own. He has saved us the trouble of going from him;
for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, would have been but a
blot in our company: besides, the apostle says, “From such withdraw
thyself.”

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

CHRISTIAN: You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did. There is but
little of this faithful dealing with men now-a-days, and that makes religion
to stink so in the nostrils of many as it doth; for 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 company of saints would
be too hot for them. Then did Faithful say,


“How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes!

How bravely doth he speak! How he presumes

To drive down all before him! But so soon

As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon

That’s past the full, into the wane he goes;

And so will all but he that heart-work know.”

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.
_________________________________________________________________

THE SIXTH STAGE

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

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

CHRISTIAN: Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist: the sight of thy
countenance brings to my remembrance thy ancient kindness and unwearied
labors for my eternal good.

FAITHFUL: And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful, thy company, O
sweet Evangelist; how desirable is it to us poor pilgrims!

EVANGELIST: 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 been victors, and for that you have, 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 reaped; and the day is coming, when “both he that
soweth, and they that reap, shall rejoice together,” John 4:36; that is, if
you hold out: “for in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not.” Gal. 6:9.
The crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one; “so run that ye may
obtain it.” 1 Cor. 9:24-27. Some there be that set out for this crown, and
after they have gone far for it, another comes in and takes it from them:
“hold fast, therefore, that you have; let no man take your crown.” Rev.
3:11. You are not yet out of the gunshot of the devil; “you have not
resisted unto blood, striving against sin.” Let the kingdom be always before
you, and believe steadfastly concerning the things that are invisible. Let
nothing that is on this side the other world get within you. And, above all,
look well to your own hearts and to the lusts thereof; for they are
“deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked.” Set your faces like a
flint; you have all power in heaven and earth on your side.

CHRISTIAN: Then Christian thanked him for his exhortations; but told him
withal, that they would have him speak farther to them for their help the
rest of the way; and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a
prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen unto them, and also
how they might resist and overcome them. To which request Faithful also
consented. So Evangelist began as followeth.

EVANGELIST: My sons, you have heard in the word of the truth of the Gospel,
that you must “through many tribulations enter into the kingdom of
heaven;” and again, that “in every city, bonds and afflictions 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 shall die there, although
his death will be unnatural, and his pain, perhaps, great, he will yet have
the better of his fellow; not only because he will be arrived at the
Celestial 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, Psa. 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 original of it.

Almost five thousand years ago there were pilgrims walking to the Celestial
City, as these two honest persons are: and Beelzebub, Apollyon, and Legion,
with their companions, perceiving by the path that the pilgrims made, that
their way to the city lay through this town of Vanity, they contrived here
to set up a fair; a fair wherein should be sold all sorts of vanity, and
that it should last all the year long. Therefore, at this fair are all such
merchandise sold as houses, lands, trades, places, honors, preferments,
titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts, pleasures; and delights of all sorts, as
harlots, wives, husbands, children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies,
souls, silver, gold, pearls, precious stones, and what not.

And moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen jugglings,
cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every
kind.

Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries,
false-swearers, and that of a blood-red color.

And, as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and
streets under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended; so
here, likewise, you have the proper places, rows, streets, (namely,
countries and kingdoms,) where the wares of this fair are soonest to be
found. Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the Spanish
Row, the German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be sold. But, as
in other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief of all the fair; so the
ware of Rome and her merchandise 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 will go to the city, and yet not
go through this town, “must needs go out of the world.” 1 Cor. 4:10. The
Prince of princes himself, when here, went through this town to his own
country, and that upon a fair-day too; yea, and, as I think, it was
Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him to buy of his
vanities, yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have done
him reverence as he went through the town. Yea, because he was such a person
of honor, Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him all the
kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure
that blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his vanities; but he had no mind
to the merchandise, and therefore left the town, without laying out so much
as one farthing upon these vanities. Matt. 4:8,9; Luke 4:5-7. This fair,
therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair.

Now, these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair. Well, so
they did; but behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the people in
the fair were moved; and the town itself, as it were, in a hubbub about
them, and that for several reasons: for,

First, The Pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was diverse
from the raiment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of
the fair made a great gazing upon them: some said they were fools; 1 Cor.
4:9,10; some, they were bedlams; and some, they were outlandish men.

Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at
their speech; for few could understand what they said. They naturally spoke
the language of Canaan; but they that kept the fair were the men of this
world: so that from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians
each to the other. 1 Cor. 2:7,8.

Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was, that
these pilgrims set very light by all their wares. They cared not so much as
to look upon them; and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their
fingers in their ears, and cry, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding
vanity,” Psa. 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 the
truth.” Prov. 23:23. At that there was an occasion taken to despise the men
the more; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some
calling upon others to smite them. At last, things came to an hubbub and
great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was confounded. Now was word
presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and
deputed some of his most trusty friends to take those men into examination
about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were brought to
examination; and they that sat upon them asked them whence they came,
whither they went, and what they did there in such an unusual garb. The men
told them they were pilgrims and strangers in the world, and that they were
going 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
merchandisrs, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey, except
it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they
would buy the truth. But they that were appointed to examine them did not
believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to
put all things into a confusion in the fair. Therefore they took them and
beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage,
that they might be made a spectacle to all the men of the fair. There,
therefore, they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man’s
sport, or malice, or revenge; the great one of the fair laughing still at
all that befell them. But the men being patient, and “not rendering railing
for 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 an
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 before their examiners again, and were charged as being
guilty of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them
pitifully, and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down
the fair, for an example and terror to others, lest any should speak in
their behalf, or join themselves unto them. But Christian and Faithful
behaved themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that
was cast upon them with so much meekness and patience, that it won to their
side (though but few in comparison of the rest) several of the men in the
fair. This put the other party yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they
concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened that neither
cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die for the
abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair.

Then were they remanded to the cage again, until further order should be
taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the
stocks.

Here, also, they called again to mind what they had heard from their
faithful friend Evangelist, and 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 varying in form; the contents whereof was this: “That they were
enemies to, and disturbers 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 contempt of the law of their prince.”

Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that
which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest. And, said
he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace: the
parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and innocence,
and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king
you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and
all his angels.

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

Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: My lord, I have known this
man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this honorable bench,
that he is-

JUDGE: Hold; give him his oath.

So they sware him. Then he said, My lord, this man, notwithstanding his
plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country; he neither
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 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, when the other gentlemen have given in their
evidence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that will dispatch him, I
will enlarge my testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by.

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

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

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

PICKTHANK: My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a
long time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoken; for
he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken contemptibly
of his honorable friends, whose names are, the Lord Old Man, the Lord Carnal
Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of Vain Glory, my old Lord
Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of our nobility: and he hath
said, moreover, that if all men were of his mind, if possible, there is not
one of these noblemen should have any longer a being in this town. Besides,
he hath not been afraid to rail on you, my lord, who are now appointed to be
his judge, calling you an ungodly villain, with many other such like
vilifying terms, with which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our
town.

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

FAITHFUL: May I speak a few words in my own defence?

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

FAITHFUL: 1. I say, then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never
said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were
flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If
I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here
before you to make my recantation.

2. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I
said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a divine faith;
but there can be no divine faith without a divine revelation of the will of
God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God that is not
agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be done but by a human faith; which
faith will not be 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
rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit for a
being in hell than in this town and country. And so the Lord have mercy upon
me.

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

There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our
prince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply and grow too
strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river. 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. 6:7. Now, the substance of
these laws this rebel has broken, not only in thought, (which is not to be
borne,) but also in word and deed; which must, therefore, needs be
intolerable.

For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition to prevent
mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent. For the
second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and for the
treason that he hath already confessed, he deserveth to die the death.

Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr.
Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity,
Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable; who every one
gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards
unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge. And first
among themselves, Mr. Blindman, the foreman, said, I see clearly that this
man is a heretic. Then said Mr. No-good, Away with such a fellow from the
earth. Aye, 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 dispatch him out of the way, said Mr. Hate-light. Then said
Mr. Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could not be
reconciled to him; therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death.

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

They therefore brought him out, to do with him according to their law; and
first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh
with knives; after that, they stoned him with stones, then 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 some respite, and was remanded back to prison: so he there
remained for a space. But he who overrules all things, having the power of
their rage in his own hand, so wrought it about, that Christian for that
time escaped them, and went his way.

And as he went, he sang, saying,


“Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest

Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shalt be blest,

When faithless ones, with all their vain delights,

Are crying out under their hellish plights:

Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive;

For though they killed thee, thou art yet alive.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE SEVENTH STAGE

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian went not forth alone; for there was
one whose name was Hopeful, (being so made by the beholding of Christian and
Faithful in their words and behavior, in their sufferings at the fair,) who
joined himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly covenant, 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 Christian
in his pilgrimage. This Hopeful also told Christian, that there were many
more of the men in the fair that would take their time, and follow after.

So I saw, that quickly after they were got out of the fair, they overtook
one that was going before them, whose name was By-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-ENDS: Yes, said By-ends, I hope so.

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

BY-ENDS: I am a stranger to you, and you to me: if you be going this way, I
shall be glad of your company; if not, I must be content.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: Pray, who are your kindred there, if a man may be so bold?

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

CHRISTIAN: Are you a married man.

BY-ENDS: Yes, and my wife is a very virtuous woman, the daughter of a
virtuous woman; she was my Lady Feigning’s daughter; therefore she came of a
very honorable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she
knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant. ‘Tis true, we
somewhat differ in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in two
small points: First, we never strive against wind and tide. Secondly, we are
always most zealous when religion goes in his silver slippers; we love much
to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines and the people applaud
him.

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

BY-ENDS: This is not my name, but indeed it is a nickname that is given me
by some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to bear it as a
reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me.

CHRISTIAN: But did you never give an occasion to men to call you by this
name?

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

CHRISTIAN: 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-ENDS: Well if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it; you shall find me
a fair company-keeper, if you will still admit me your associate.

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

CHRISTIAN: 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 did before
you overtook me, even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad
of my company.

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful forsook him, and kept
their distance before him; but one of them, looking back, saw three men
following Mr. By-ends; and, behold, as they came up with him, he made them a
very low congee; and they also gave him a compliment. The men’s names were,
Mr. Hold-the-world, Mr. Money-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. Gripeman, a schoolmaster in Lovegain,
which is a market-town in the county of Coveting, in the North. This
Schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by violence, cozenage,
flattering, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion; and these four
gentlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so that they could
each of them have kept such a school themselves.

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

BY-ENDS: They are a couple of far country-men, that, after their mode, are
going on pilgrimage.

MR. MONEY-LOVE: Alas! why did they not stay, that we might have had their
good company? for they, and we, and you, sir, I hope, are all going on
pilgrimage.

BY-ENDS: We are so, indeed; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so
much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opinions of
others, that let a man be ever so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in
all things, they thrust him quite out of their company.

MR. SAVE-ALL: That is bad; but we read of some that are righteous overmuch,
and such men’s rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but
themselves. But I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you
differed?

BY-ENDS: Why, they, after their headstrong manner, conclude 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 contempt; but I am for him when he walks in his
silver slippers, in the sunshine, and with applause.

MR. HOLD-THE-WORLD: Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr. By-ends; for,
for my part, I can count him but a fool, that having the liberty to keep
what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Let us be wise as serpents.
It is best to make hay while the sun shines. You see how the bee lieth still
in winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God
sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine: if they be such fools to go
through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us.
For my part, I like that religion best that will stand with the security of
God’s good blessings unto us; for who can imagine, that is ruled by his
reason, since God has bestowed upon us the good things of this life, but
that he would have us keep them for his sake? Abraham and Solomon grew rich
in religion; and Job says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust; but he
must not be such as the men before us, if they be as you have described
them.

MR. SAVE-ALL: I think that we are all agreed in this matter; and therefore
there needs no more words about it.

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

BY-ENDS: My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage; and for
our better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound
unto you this question.

Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, etc., should have an advantage
lie before him to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can
by no means come by them, except, in appearance at least, he becomes
extraordinary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with
before; may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right
honest man?

MR. MONEY-LOVE: I see the bottom of your question; and 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 very small benefice, and has in
his eye a greater, more fat and plump by far; he has also now an opportunity
of getting it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more
frequently and zealously, and, because the temper of the people requires it,
by altering of some of his principles; for my part, I see no reason why a
man may not do this, provided he has a call, aye, and more a great deal
besides, and yet be an honest man. For why?

1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful, (this cannot be
contradicted,) since 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, etc., and so makes him a better man, yea, makes him better
improve his parts, which is according to the mind of God.

3. Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people, by deserting, to
serve them, some of his principles, this argueth, 1. That he is of a
self-denying temper. 2. Of a sweet and winning deportment. And, 3. So more
fit for the ministerial function.

4. I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a small for a great,
should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous; 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 customers to his shop; for my part, I see no reason but
this may be lawfully done. For why?

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

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

3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming religious, gets that which
is good of them that are good, by becoming good himself; so then here is a
good wife, and good customers, and good gain, and all these by becoming
religious, which is good: therefore, to become religious to get all these is
a good and profitable design.

This answer, thus made by Mr. Money-love 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, because 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 without the remainder of that heat
that was kindled betwixt Mr. By-ends and them at their parting a little
before.

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

Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer ten thousand such
questions. For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, John
6:26; how much more abominable is it to make of him and religion a
stalking-horse to get and enjoy the world! Nor do we find any other than
heathens, hypocrites, devils, and wizards, that are of this opinion.

1. Heathens: for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind to the daughter and
cattle of Jacob, and saw that there was no way for them to come at them but
by being circumcised, they said to their companions, If every male of us be
circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their
substance, and every beast of theirs be ours? Their 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
damnation was from God their judgment. Luke 20:46,47.

3. Judas the devil was also of this religion: he was religious for the bag,
that he might be possessed of what was 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 the sentence of God? And if they are mute
when dealt with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be
rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire?

Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came at a
delicate plain, called Ease, where they went with much content; but that
plain was but narrow, so they were quickly got over it. Now at the farther
side of that plain was a little hill, called Lucre, and in that hill a
silver-mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way, because of
the rarity of it, had turned aside to see; but going too near the brim of
the pit, the ground, being deceitful under them, broke, and they were slain:
some also had been maimed there, and could not, to their dying day, be their
own men again.

Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the road, over against the
silver-mine, stood Demas (gentleman-like) to call passengers to come and
see; who said to Christian and his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, and I will
show you a thing.

CHRISTIAN: What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it?

DEMAS: Here is a silver-mine, and some digging in it for treasure; if you
will come, with a little pains you may richly provide for yourselves.

HOPEFUL: Then said Hopeful, let us go see.

CHRISTIAN: Not I, said Christian: I have heard of this place before now, and
how many there have been slain; and besides, that treasure is a snare to
those that seek it, for it hindereth them in their pilgrimage.

Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous? Hath it
not hindered many in their pilgrimage? Hosea 9:6.

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

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

HOPEFUL: I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he hath the same
invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

CHRISTIAN: Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy
to the right ways of the Lord of this way, and hast been already condemned
for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty’s judges, 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.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian, What is thy name? Is it not the same by
which I have called thee?

DEMAS: Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son of Abraham.

CHRISTIAN: I know you; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your
father, and you have trod in their steps; it is but a devilish prank that
thou usest: thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no
better reward. 2 Kings 5:20-27; Matt.26:14,15; 27:3-5. Assure thyself, that
when we come to the King, we will tell him of this thy behavior. Thus they
went their way.

By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and
they at the first beck went over to Demas. Now, whether they fell into the
pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or
whether they were smothered in the bottom by the damps that commonly arise,
of these things I am not certain; but this I observed, that they were never
seen again in the way. Then sang Christian,


“By-ends and silver Demas both agree;

One calls, the other runs, that he may be

A sharer in his lucre: so these two

Take up in this world, and no farther go.”

Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the pilgrims came to a
place where 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 thereof. At last
Hopeful espied, written above upon the head thereof, a writing in an unusual
hand; but he being no scholar, called to Christian (for he was learned) to
see if he could pick out the meaning: so he came, and after a little laying
of letters together, he found the same to be this, “Remember Lot’s wife.” So
he read it to his fellow; after which they both concluded that that was the
pillar of salt into which Lot’s wife was turned, for her looking back with a
covetous heart when she was going from Sodom for safety. Gen. 19:26. Which
sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion for this discourse.

CHRISTIAN: 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, like this woman, a
spectacle for those that shall come after to behold.

HOPEFUL: I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am
not now as Lot’s wife; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin and
mine? She only looked back, and I had a desire to go see. Let grace be
adored; and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in mine
heart.

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

HOPEFUL: 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 perished 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 her after, (for we
read not that she stepped one foot out of the way,) was turned into a pillar
of salt; especially since the judgment which overtook her did make her an
example within sight of where they are; for they cannot choose but see her,
did they but lift up their eyes.

CHRISTIAN: 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 eyesight, and notwithstanding the kindnesses that he had
shown them; for the land of Sodom was now like the garden of Eden as
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.

HOPEFUL: 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 pleasant river, which David the
king called “the river of God;” but John, “the river of the water of
life.” Psa. 65:9; Rev. 22:1; Ezek. 47:1-9. Now their way lay just upon the
bank of this river: here, therefore, Christian and his companion walked with
great delight; they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant
and enlivening to their weary spirits. Besides, on the banks of this river,
on either side, were green trees with all manner of fruit; and the leaves
they ate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are incident to those
that heat their blood by travel. On either side of the river was also a
meadow, curiously beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year
long. In this meadow they lay down and slept, for here they might lie down
safely. Psa. 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;


“Behold ye, how these Crystal Streams do glide,

To comfort pilgrims by the highway-side.

The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell,

Yield dainties for them; And he that can tell

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

Will soon sell all, that he may buy this field.”

So when they were disposed to go on, (for they were not as yet at their
journey’s end,) they ate, and drank, and departed.

Now I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river and
the way for a time parted, at which 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 discouraged because of the way. Numb. 21:4. Wherefore, still as they
went on, they wished for a 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 wayside, let’s go over into it. Then he went
to the stile to see, and behold a path lay along by the way on the other
side of the fence. It is according to my wish, said Christian; here is the
easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go over.

HOPEFUL: But how if this path should lead us out of the way?

CHRISTIAN: That is not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by
the wayside? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, 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 withal, they, looking before them, espied a
man walking as they did, and his name was Vain-Confidence: so they called
after him, and asked him whither that way led. He said, To the Celestial
Gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell you so? by this you may see we
are right. So they followed, and he went before them. But behold the night
came on, and it grew very dark; so that they that went behind lost the sight
of him that went before.

He therefore that went before, (Vain-Confidence by name,) not seeing the way
before him, fell into a deep pit, which was on purpose there made, by the
prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed
in pieces with his fall. Isa. 9:16.

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

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

CHRISTIAN: Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of
the way?

HOPEFUL: I was afraid on’t at the very first, and therefore gave you that
gentle caution. I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older than I.

CHRISTIAN: Good brother, be not offended; I am sorry I have brought thee out
of the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger. Pray, my
brother, forgive me; I did not do it of an evil intent.

HOPEFUL: Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee; and believe, too,
that this shall be for our good.

CHRISTIAN: I am glad I have with me a merciful brother: but we must not
stand here; let us try to go back again.

HOPEFUL: But, good brother, let me go before.

CHRISTIAN: No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger,
I may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the way.

HOPEFUL: 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 time
the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which the way of going back was
very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when
we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back;
but it was so dark, and the flood was so high, that in their going back they
had like to have been drowned nine or ten times.

Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that
night. Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down
there till the day brake; but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was,
not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, the
owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his grounds they now were
sleeping: wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, and walking up and
down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. Then
with a grim and surly voice, he bid them awake, and asked them whence they
were, and what they did in his grounds. They told him they were pilgrims,
and that they had lost their way. Then said the giant, You have this night
trespassed on me by trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you
must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger
than they. They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a
fault. The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his
castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these
two men. Here, then, they lay from 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, therefore, here in evil case, and were far from friends and
acquaintance. Psa. 88:18. Now in this place Christian had double sorrow,
because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into
this distress.

Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence: so when he was
gone to bed he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he had taken a
couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for trespassing on his
grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best do further to them. So she
asked him what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound, and
he told her. Then she counseled him, that when he arose in the morning he
should beat them without mercy. So when he arose, he getteth him a grievous
crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon to them, and there first
falls to rating of them as if they were dogs, although they gave him never a
word of distaste. Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such
sort that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the
floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves them there to condole their
misery, and to mourn under their distress: so all that day they spent the
time in nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she,
talking with her husband further about them, and understanding that they
were yet alive, did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves.
So when morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, and
perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them the
day before, he told them, that since they were never like to come out of
that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of themselves,
either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said he, should you choose to
live, seeing it is attended with so much bitterness? But they desired him to
let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them, and rushing to them, had
doubtless made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of his
fits, (for he sometimes in sunshiny weather fell into fits,) and lost for a
time the use of his hands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to
consider what to do. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves
whether it was best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to
discourse:

CHRISTIAN: Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life that we now
live is miserable. For my part, I know not whether it is best to live thus,
or to die out of hand. My soul chooseth strangling rather than life, and the
grave is more easy for me than this dungeon. Job. 7:15. Shall we be ruled by
the giant?

HOPEFUL: 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
but commit murder upon his body; but for one to kill himself, is to kill
body and soul at once. And moreover, my brother, thou talkest of ease in the
grave; but hast thou forgotten the hell whither for certain the murderers
go? for “no murderer hath eternal life,” etc. And let us consider again,
that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair: others, so far as I
can understand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped
out of his hands. Who knows but that God, who made the world, may cause that
Giant Despair may die; or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock
us in; or that he may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us,
and may lose the use of his limbs? And if ever that should come to pass
again, for my part, I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try
my utmost to get from under his hand. I was a fool that I did not try to do
it before. But, however, my brother, let us be patient, and endure a while:
the time may come that may give us a happy release; but let us not be our
own murderers. With these words Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of
his brother; so they continued together in the dark that day, in their sad
and doleful condition.

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

At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a swoon;
but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their discourse about the
giant’s counsel, and whether yet they had best take it or no. Now Christian
again seemed for doing it; but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth:

HOPEFUL: My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast
been heretofore? Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou
didst hear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death. What
hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through; and art thou
now nothing 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 hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth, and with
thee I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little more patience.
Remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid
of the chain nor cage, nor yet of bloody death: 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; 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, said
he, were pilgrims, as you are, once, and they trespassed on my grounds, as
you have done; and when I thought fit I tore them in pieces; and so within
ten days I will do you: get you down to your den again. And with that he
beat them all the way thither. They lay, therefore, all day on Saturday in a
lamentable case, as before. Now, when night was come, and when Mrs.
Diffidence and her husband the giant was got to bed, they began to renew
their discourse of their prisoners; and withal, the old giant wondered that
he could neither by his blows nor counsel bring them to an end. And with
that his wife replied, I fear, said she, that they live in hopes that some
will come to relieve them; or that they have picklocks about them, by the
means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the
giant; 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, thus to lie in
a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty! I have a key in my
bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting
Castle. Then said Hopeful, That is good news; good brother, pluck it out of
thy bosom, and try.

Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the
dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door flew
open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the
outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his key opened that
door also. After he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened too; but
that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did open it. They then thrust
open the gate to make their escape with speed; but that gate, as it opened,
made such a creaking, that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising to
pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took him again,
so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to
the King’s highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his
jurisdiction.

Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with
themselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that shall
come after from falling into the hands of Giant Despair. So they consented
to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof this sentence:
“Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant
Despair, who despiseth the King of’ the Celestial country, and seeks to
destroy 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 found

What ‘twas to tread upon forbidden ground:

And let them that come after have a care,

Lest heedlessness makes them as we to fare;

Lest they, for trespassing, his prisoners are,

Whose castle’s Doubting, and whose name’s Despair.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE EIGHTH STAGE

They went then till they came to the Delectable Mountains, which mountains
belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken before. So they went
up to the mountains, to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards and
fountains of water; where also they drank and washed themselves, and did
freely eat of the vineyards. Now, there were on 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 way,)
they asked, Whose Delectable Mountains are these; and whose be the sheep
that feed upon them?

THE SHEPHERDS: These mountains are Emmanuel’s land, and they are within
sight of his city; and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for
them. John 10:11,15.

CHRISTIAN: Is this the way to the Celestial City?

THE SHEPHERDS: You are just in your way.

CHRISTIAN: How far is it thither?

THE SHEPHERDS: Too far for any but those who shall get thither indeed.

CHRISTIAN: Is the way safe or dangerous?

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

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

THE SHEPHERDS: The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be
forgetful to entertain strangers, Heb. 13:2; therefore the good of the place
is before you .

I saw also in my dream, that when the shepherds perceived that they were
wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, (to which they made answer
as in other places,) as, Whence came you? and, How got you into the way?
and, By what means have you so persevered therein? for but few of them that
begin to come hither, do show their face on these mountains. But when the
shepherds heard their answers, being pleased therewith, they looked very
lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the Delectable Mountains.

The shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and
Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their tents, and made them
partake of that which was ready at present. They said moreover, We would
that you should stay here a while, to be acquainted with us, and yet more to
solace yourselves with the good of these Delectable Mountains. Then they
told them that they were content to stay. So they went to their rest that
night, because it was very late.

Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the shepherds called up
Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains. So they went
forth with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant prospect on every
side. Then said the shepherds one to another, Shall we show these pilgrims
some wonders? So when they had concluded to do it, they had them first to
the top 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 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
Hymenius and Philetus, as concerning the faith of the resurrection of the
body? 2 Tim. 2:17,18. They answered, Yes. Then said the shepherds, Those
that you see lie dashed in pieces at the 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 Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they did, they
perceived, as they thought, several men walking up and down among the tombs
that were there; and they perceived that the men were blind, because they
stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and because they could not get out from
among them. Then said Christian, What means this?

The shepherds then answered, Did you not see, a little below these
mountains, a stile that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way?
They answered, Yes. Then said the shepherds, From that stile there goes a
path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair;
and these men (pointing to them among the tombs) came once on pilgrimage, as
you do now, even 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 a while been kept in the dungeon, he at last did put out
their eyes, and led them among those tombs, where he has left them to wander
to this very day, that the saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, “He
that wandereth out of the way of understanding shall remain in the
congregation of the dead.” Prov. 21:16. Then Christian and Hopeful looked
upon one another, with tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the
shepherds.

Then I saw in my dream, that the shepherds had them to another place in a
bottom, where was a door 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-way to hell, a way that hypocrites go in at; namely, such
as sell their birthright, with Esau; such as sell their Master, with Judas;
such as blaspheme the Gospel, with Alexander; and that lie and dissemble,
with Ananias and Sapphira his wife.

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

THE SHEPHERDS: Yes, and held it a long time, too.

HOPEFUL: How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they,
notwithstanding, were miserably cast away?

THE SHEPHERDS: Some farther, and some not so far as these mountains.

Then said the pilgrims one to the other, We had need to cry to the Strong
for strength.

THE SHEPHERDS: Aye, and you will have need to use it, when you have it, too.

By this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the shepherds a
desire they should; so they walked together towards the end of the
mountains. Then said the shepherds one to another, Let us here show the
pilgrims the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill to look through
our perspective glass. The pilgrims lovingly accepted the motion: so they
had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and gave them the glass to
look.

Then they tried to look; but the remembrance of that last thing that the
shepherds had shown them made their hands shake, by means of which
impediment they could not look steadily through the glass; yet they thought
they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of the place.
Then they went away, and sang,


“Thus by the shepherds secrets are reveal’d,

Which from all other men are kept concealed:

Come to the shepherds then, if you would see

Things deep, things hid, and that mysterious be.”

When they were about to depart, one of the shepherds gave them a note of the
way. Another of them bid them beware of the Flatterer. The third bid them
take heed that they slept not upon Enchanted Ground. And the fourth bid them
God speed. So I awoke from my dream.
_________________________________________________________________

THE NINTH STAGE

And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two pilgrims going down the
mountains along the highway towards the city. Now, a little below these
mountains, on the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit, from which
country there comes into the way in which the pilgrims walked, a little
crooked lane. Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk lad that came out
of that country, and his name was Ignorance. So Christian asked him from
what parts he came, and whither he was going.

IGNORANCE: Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off there, a little on
the left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City.

CHRISTIAN: But how do you think to get in at the gate, for you may find some
difficulty there?

IGNORANCE: As other good people do, said he.

CHRISTIAN: But what have you to show at that gate, that the gate should be
opened to you?

IGNORANCE: I know my Lord’s will, and have been a good liver; I pay every
man his own; I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my
country for whither I am going.

CHRISTIAN: But thou camest not in at the wicket-gate, that is at the head of
this way; thou camest in hither through that same crooked lane, and
therefore I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the
reckoning-day shall come, thou wilt have laid to thy charge, that thou art a
thief and a robber, instead of getting admittance into the city.

IGNORANCE: Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me; I know you not: be
content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow the
religion of mine. I hope all will be well. And as for the gate that you talk
of, all the world knows that is a great way off of our country. I cannot
think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the way to it; nor
need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as you see, a fine,
pleasant, green lane, that comes down from our country, the next way into
the way.

When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own conceit, he said to
Hopeful whisperingly, “There is more hope of a fool than of him.” Prov.
26:12. And said, moreover, “When he that is a fool walketh by the way, his
wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool. Eccles.
10:3. What, shall we talk farther with him, or outgo him at present, and so
leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and then stop again for
him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any good to him? Then said
Hopeful,


“Let Ignorance a little while now muse

On what is said, and let him not refuse

Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain

Still ignorant of what’s the chiefest gain.

God saith, those that no understanding have,

(Although he made them,) them he will not save.”

HOPEFUL: He further added, It is not good, I think, to say so to him all at
once; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he is
able to bear it.

So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. Now, when they had passed
him a little way, they entered into a very dark lane, where they met a man
whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were carrying him
back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill. Matt. 12:45; Prov.
5:22. Now good Christian began to tremble, and so did Hopeful, his
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 perfectly see his face, for he did hang his
head like a thief that is found; but being gone past, Hopeful looked after
him, and espied on his back a paper with this inscription, “Wanton
professor, and damnable apostate.”

Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remembrance that which was
told me of a thing that happened to a good man hereabout. The name of the
man was Little-Faith; but a good man, and he dwelt in the town of Sincere.
The thing was this. At the entering in at this passage, there comes down
from Broadway-gate, a lane, called Dead-Man’s lane; so called because of the
murders that are commonly done there; and this Little-Faith going on
pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit down there and sleep. Now there
happened at that time to come down the lane from Broadway-gate, three sturdy
rogues, and their names were Faint-Heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, three
brothers; and they, espying Little-Faith where he was, came galloping up
with speed. Now the good man was 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 power to fight nor fly. Then said Faint-Heart, Deliver thy
purse; but he making no haste to do it, (for he was loth to lose his money,)
Mistrust ran up to him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled out
thence a bag of silver. Then he cried out, Thieves, thieves! 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 town of Good-Confidence,
they betook themselves to their heels, and left this good man to shift for
himself. Now, after a while, Little-Faith came to himself, and getting up,
made shift to scramble on his way. This was the story.

HOPEFUL: But did they take from him all that ever he had?

CHRISTIAN: No; the place where his jewels were they never ransacked; so
those he kept still. But, as I was told, the good man was much afflicted for
his loss; for the thieves got most of his spending-money. That which they
got not, as I said, were jewels; also, he had a little odd money left, but
scarce enough to bring him to his journey’s end. Nay, (if I was not
misinformed,) he was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself alive, for
his jewels he might not sell; but beg and do what he could, he went, as we
say, with many a hungry belly the most part of the rest of the way. 1 Pet.
4:18.

HOPEFUL: But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by
which he was to receive his admittance at the Celestial Gate?

CHRISTIAN: It is a wonder; but they got not that, though they missed it not
through any good cunning of his; for he, being dismayed by their coming upon
him, had neither power nor skill to hide any thing; so it was more by good
providence than by his endeavor that they missed of that good thing. 2 Tim.
1:12-14; 2 Pet. 2:9.

HOPEFUL: But it must needs be a comfort to him they got not this jewel from
him.

CHRISTIAN: 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 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.

HOPEFUL: Alas, poor man, this could not but be a great grief to him.

CHRISTIAN: Grief? Aye, 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 wonder he did not die with grief, poor
heart. I was told that he scattered almost all the rest of the way with
nothing but doleful and bitter complaints; telling, also, to all that
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.

HOPEFUL: But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put him upon selling
or pawning some of his jewels, that he might have wherewith to relieve
himself in his journey.

CHRISTIAN: Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell to this very
day. For what should he pawn them? or to whom should he sell them? In all
that country where he was robbed, his jewels were not accounted of; nor did
he want that relief which could from thence be administered to him. Besides,
had his jewels been missing at the gate of the Celestial City, he had (and
that he knew well enough) been excluded from an inheritance there, and that
would have been worse to him than the appearance and villany of ten thousand
thieves.

HOPEFUL: Why art thou so tart, my brother? Esau sold his birthright, and
that for a mess of pottage, Heb. 12:16; and that birthright was his greatest
jewel: and if he, why might not Little-Faith do so too?

CHRISTIAN: Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many besides, and
by so doing exclude themselves from the chief blessing, as also that caitiff
did; but you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-Faith, and also
betwixt their estates. Esau’s birthright was typical; but Little-Faith’s
jewels were not so. Esau’s belly was his god; but Little-Faith’s belly was
not so. Esau’s want lay in his fleshy appetite; Little-Faith’s did not so.
Besides, Esau could see no further than to the fulfilling of his lusts: For
I am at the point to die, said he: and what good will this birthright do me?
Gen. 25:32. But Little-Faith, though it was his lot to have but a little
faith, was by his little faith kept from such extravagances, and made to see
and prize his jewels more than to sell them, as Esau did his birthright. You
read not any where that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a little;
therefore no marvel, where the flesh 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 mind was on things divine; his
livelihood was upon things that were spiritual, and from above: therefore,
to what end should he that is of such a temper sell his jewels (had there
been any that would have bought them) to fill his mind with empty things?
Will a man give a penny to fill his belly with hay? or can you persuade the
turtle-dove to live upon carrion, like the crow? Though faithless 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.

HOPEFUL: I acknowledge it; but yet your severe reflection had almost made me
angry.

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

HOPEFUL: But, Christian, these three fellows, I am persuaded in my heart,
are but a company of cowards: would they have run else, think you, as they
did, at the noise of one that was coming on the road? Why did not
Little-Faith pluck up a greater heart? He might, methinks, have stood one
brush with them, and have yielded when there had been no remedy.

CHRISTIAN: That they are cowards, many have said, but few have found it so
in the time of trial. As for a great heart, Little-Faith had none; and I
perceive by thee, my brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, thou art
but for a brush, and then to yield. And verily, since this is the height of
thy stomach now they are at a distance from us, should they appear to thee
as they did to him, they might put thee to second thoughts.

But consider again, that they are but journeymen thieves; They serve under
the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, will come to their aid
himself, and his voice is as the roaring of a lion. 1 Pet. 5:8. I myself
have been engaged as this Little-Faith was, and I found it a terrible thing.
These three villains set upon me, and I beginning like a Christian to
resist, they gave but a call, and in came their master. I would, as the
saying is, have given my life for a penny, but that, as God would have it, I
was clothed with armor of proof. Aye, 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.

HOPEFUL: Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one
Great-Grace was in the way.

CHRISTIAN: True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when
Great-Grace hath but appeared; and no marvel, for he is the King’s champion.
But I trow you will put some difference between Little-Faith and the King’s
champion. All the King’s subjects are not his champions; nor can they, when
tried, do such feats of war as he. Is it meet to think that a little child
should handle Goliath as David did? or that there should be the strength of
an ox in a wren? Some are strong, some are weak; some have great faith, some
have little: this man was one of the weak, and therefore he went to the
wall.

HOPEFUL: I would it had been Great-Grace, for their sakes.

CHRISTIAN: If it had been he, he might have had his hands full: for I must
tell you, that though Great-Grace is excellent good at his weapons, and has,
and can, so long as he keeps them at sword’s point, do well enough with
them; yet if they get within him, even Faint-Heart, Mistrust, or the other,
it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels. And when a man is down,
you know, what can he do?

Whoso looks well upon Great-Grace’s face, will see those scars and cuts
there that shall easily give demonstration of what I say. Yea, once I heard
that he should say, (and that when he was in the combat,) We despaired even
of life. How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows make David groan,
mourn, and roar! Yea, Heman, Psa. 88, and Hezekiah too, though champions in
their days, were forced to bestir them when by these assaulted; and yet,
notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly brushed by them. Peter, upon a
time, would go try what he could do; but though some do say of him that he
is the prince of the apostles, they handled him so that they made him at
last afraid of a sorry girl.

Besides, their king is at their whistle; he is never out of hearing; and if
at any time they be put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to help
them; and of him it is said, “The sword of him that layeth at him cannot
hold; the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon. He esteemeth 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. “For his neck is clothed
with thunder. He will not be afraid as a grasshopper: the glory of his
nostrils is terrible. He paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his
strength; he goeth on to meet the armed men. He mocketh at fear, and is not
affrighted; neither turneth he back from the sword. The quiver rattleth
against him, the glittering spear and the shield. He swalloweth the ground
with fierceness and rage; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the
trumpet. He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha! and he smelleth the battle
afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the 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 manhood; for such
commonly come by the worst when tried. Witness Peter, of whom I made mention
before: he would swagger, aye, he would; he would, as his vain mind prompted
him to say, do better and stand more for his Master than all men: but who so
foiled and run down by those villains as he?

When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King’s highway,
two things become us to do.

1. To go out harnessed, and be sure to take a shield with us: for it was for
want of that, that he who laid so lustily at Leviathan could not make him
yield; for, indeed, if that be wanting, he fears us not at all. Therefore,
he that had skill hath said, “Above all, take the shield of faith, wherewith
ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.” Eph. 6:16.

2. It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy, yea, that he will
go with us himself. This made David rejoice when in the Valley of the Shadow
of Death; and Moses was rather for dying where he stood, than to go one step
without his God. Exod. 33:15.

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? Psa. 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
any manhood. Glad shall I be if I meet with no more such brunts; though I
fear we are not got beyond all danger. However, since the lion and the bear
have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also deliver us from the next
uncircumcised Philistine. Then sang Christian,


“Poor Little-Faith! hast been among the thieves?

Wast robb’d? Remember this, whoso believes,

And get more faith; then shall you 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 where they saw a way put itself into their way, and seemed withal to
lie as strait as the way which they should go; and here they knew not which
of the two to take, for both seemed strait before them: therefore here they
stood still to consider. And as they were thinking about the way, behold a
man black of flesh, but covered with a very light robe, come 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, and turned them so
far from the city that they desired to go to, that in a little time their
faces were turned away from it; yet they follow him. But by and by, before
they were aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they
were both so entangled that they knew not what to do; and with that the
white robe fell off the black man’s back. Then they saw where they were.
Wherefore there they lay crying some time, for they could not get themselves
out.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see myself in an
error. Did not the shepherds bid us beware of the Flatterer? As is the
saying of the wise man, so we have found it this day: “A man that flattereth
his neighbor, spreadeth a net for his feet.” Prov. 29:5.

HOPEFUL: They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more
sure finding thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read, and have
not kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer. Here David was wiser
than we; for saith he, “Concerning the works of men, by the word of thy lips
I have kept me from the paths of the Destroyer.” Psa. 17:4. Thus they lay
bewailing themselves in the net. At last they espied a Shining One coming
towards them with a whip of small cords in his hand. When he was come to the
place where they were, he asked them whence they came, and what they did
there. They told him that they were poor pilgrims going to 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 the whip, It is
Flatterer, a false apostle, that hath transformed himself into an angel of
light. Dan. 11:32; 2 Cor. 11:13,14. So he rent the net, and let the men out.
Then said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way again. So he
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? They said, With the
shepherds upon the Delectable Mountains. He asked them then if they had not
of the shepherds a note of direction 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 Flatterer.
They answered, Yes; but we did not imagine, said they, that 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 chastised them sore, to teach them the good way wherein they should
walk, Deut. 25:2; 2 Chron. 6:27; and as he chastised them, he said, “As many
as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous, therefore, and repent.” Rev.
3:19. This done, he bids them to 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 entangling net,

Cause they good counsel lightly did forget:

’Tis true, they rescued were; but yet, you see,

They’re scouged to boot; let this your caution be.”

Now, after awhile, they perceived afar off, one coming softly, and alone,
all along the highway, to meet them. Then said Christian to his fellow,
Yonder is a man with his back towards Zion, and he is coming to meet us.

HOPEFUL: I see him; let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove
a Flatterer also. So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last came up to them.
His name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were going.

CHRISTIAN: We are going to Mount Zion.

Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

CHRISTIAN: Why, man, do you think we shall not be received?

ATHEIST: Received! There is not such a place as you dream of in all this
world.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

CHRISTIAN: We have both heard, and believe, that there is such a place to be
found.

ATHEIST: Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to seek;
but finding none, (and yet I should, had there been such a place to be
found, for I have gone to seek it farther 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.

CHRISTIAN: Then said Christian to Hopeful his companion, Is it true which
this man hath said?

HOPEFUL: Take heed, he is one of the Flatterers. Remember what it cost us
once already for our hearkening to such kind of fellows. What! no Mount
Zion? Did we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate of the city?
Also, are we not now to walk by faith? 2 Cor. 5:7.

Let us go on, lest the man with the whip overtake us again. You should have
taught me that lesson, which I will sound you in the ears withal: “Cease, my
son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the words of
knowledge.” Prov. 19:27. I say, my brother, cease to hear him, and let us
believe to the saving of the soul.

CHRISTIAN: My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I
doubted of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch
from thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart. As for this man, I 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, 5:21.

HOPEFUL: Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God. So they turned away
from the man; and he, laughing at them, went his way.

I then saw in my dream, that they went on until they came into a certain
country whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a stranger
into it. And here Hopeful began to be very dull, and heavy to sleep:
wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so drowsy that I
can scarcely hold open mine eyes; let us lie down here, and take one nap.

CHRISTIAN: By no means, said the other; lest, sleeping, we never awake more.

HOPEFUL: Why, my brother? sleep is sweet to the laboring man; we may be
refreshed, if we take a nap.

CHRISTIAN: Do you not remember that one of the shepherds bid us beware of
the Enchanted Ground? He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping;
wherefore “let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be sober.” 1
Thess. 5:6.

HOPEFUL: I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been here alone, I had
by sleeping run the danger of death. I see it is true that the wise man
saith, “Two are better than one.” Eccl. 4:9. Hitherto hath thy company been
my mercy; and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labor.

CHRISTIAN: Now, then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place,
let us fall into good discourse.

HOPEFUL: With all my heart, said the other.

CHRISTIAN: Where shall we begin?

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

CHRISTIAN: I will sing you first this song:


“When saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither,

And hear how these two pilgrims talk together;

Yea, let them learn of them in any wise,

Thus to keep ope their drowsy, slumb’ring eyes.

Saints’ fellowship, if it be managed well,

Keeps them awake, and that in spite of hell.”

Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a question. How came you to
think at first of doing what you do now?

HOPEFUL: Do you mean, how came I at first to look after the good of my soul?

CHRISTIAN: Yes, that is my meaning.

HOPEFUL: 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
continued in them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction.

CHRISTIAN: What things were they?

HOPEFUL: All the treasures and riches of the world. Also I delighted much in
rioting, reveling, drinking, swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-breaking,
and what not, that tended to destroy the soul. But I found at last, by
hearing and considering of things that are divine, which, indeed, I heard of
you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to death for his faith and
good living in Vanity Fair, that the end of these 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.

CHRISTIAN: And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction?

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

CHRISTIAN: But what was the cause of your carrying of it thus to the first
workings of God’s blessed Spirit upon you?

HOPEFUL: The causes were, 1. I was ignorant that this was the work of God
upon me. I never thought that by awakenings for sin, God at first begins the
conversion of a sinner. 2. Sin was yet very sweet to my flesh, and I was
loth to leave it. 3. I could not tell how to part with mine old companions,
their presence and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours in which
convictions were upon me, were such troublesome and such heart-affrighting
hours, that I could not bear, no not so much as the remembrance of them upon
my heart.

CHRISTIAN: Then, as it seems, sometimes you got rid of your trouble?

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

CHRISTIAN: Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again?

HOPEFUL: Many things; as,

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

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

3. If mine head did begin to 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 especially when I thought of myself, that I must quickly come to
judgment.

CHRISTIAN: And could you at any time, with ease, get off the guilt of sin,
when by any of these ways it came upon you?

HOPEFUL: No, not I; for then they got faster hold of my conscience; and
then, if I did but think of going back to sin, (though my mind was turned
against it,) it would be double torment to me.

CHRISTIAN: And how did you do then?

HOPEFUL: I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for else, thought I, I
am sure to be damned.

CHRISTIAN: And did you endeavor to mend?

HOPEFUL: Yes, and fled from, not only my sins, but sinful company too, and
betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeping for sin,
speaking truth to my neighbors, etc. These things did I, with many others,
too much here to relate.

CHRISTIAN: And did you think yourself well then?

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

CHRISTIAN: How came that about, since you were now reformed?

HOPEFUL: There were several things brought it upon me, especially such
sayings as these: “All our righteousnesses are as filthy rags.” Isa. 64:6.
“By the works of the law shall no flesh be justified.” Gal. 2:16. “When ye
have done all these things, say, We are unprofitable,” Luke 17:10; with many
more such like. From whence I began to reason with myself thus: If all my
righteousnesses are as filthy rags; if by the deeds of the law no man can be
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 thought thus: If a
man runs a hundred pounds into the shopkeeper’s debt, and after that shall
pay for all that he shall fetch; yet if his old debt stands still in the
book uncrossed, the shopkeeper may sue him for it, and cast him into prison,
till he shall pay the debt.

CHRISTIAN: Well, and how did you apply this to yourself?

HOPEFUL: 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
transgressions?

CHRISTIAN: A very good application: but pray go on.

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

CHRISTIAN: And what did you do then?

HOPEFUL: 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
obtain the righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither mine own,
nor all the righteousness of the world, could save me.

CHRISTIAN: And did you think he spake true?

HOPEFUL: Had he told me so when I was pleased and satisfied with my own
amendments, I had called him fool for his pains; but now, since I see my own
infirmity, and the sin which cleaves to my best performance, I have been
forced to be of his opinion.

CHRISTIAN: 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 committed sin?

HOPEFUL: 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.

CHRISTIAN: And did you ask him what man this was, and how you must be
justified by him?

HOPEFUL: Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, that dwelleth on the
right hand of the Most High. Heb. 10:12-21. And thus, said he, you must be
justified by him, even by trusting to what he hath done by himself in the
days of his flesh, and suffered when he did hang on the tree. 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.

CHRISTIAN: And what did you do then?

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

CHRISTIAN: And what said Faithful to you then?

HOPEFUL: He bid me go to him and see. Then I said it was presumption. He
said, No; for I was invited to come. Matt. 11:28. Then he gave me a book of
Jesus’ inditing, to encourage me the more freely to come; and he said
concerning that book, that every jot and tittle thereof stood firmer than
heaven and earth. Matt. 24:35. Then I asked him what I must do when I came;
and he told me I must entreat upon my knees, Psa. 95:6; Dan. 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. Exod. 25:22; Lev. 16:2;
Num. 7:89; Heb. 4:16. I told him, that I knew not what to say when I came;
and he bid say to this effect: God be merciful to me a sinner, and make me
to know and believe in Jesus Christ; for I see, that if his righteousness
had not been, or I have not faith in that righteousness, I am utterly cast
away. Lord, I have heard that thou art a merciful God, and hast ordained
that thy Son Jesus Christ should be the Saviour of the world; and moreover,
that thou art willing to bestow him upon such a poor sinner as I am-and I am
a sinner indeed. Lord, take therefore this opportunity, and magnify thy
grace in the salvation of my soul, through thy Son Jesus Christ. Amen.

CHRISTIAN: And did you do as you were bidden?

HOPEFUL: Yes, over, and over, and over.

CHRISTIAN: And did the Father reveal the Son to you?

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

CHRISTIAN: What did you do then?

HOPEFUL: What? why I could not tell what to do.

CHRISTIAN: Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying?

HOPEFUL: Yes; an hundred times twice told.

CHRISTIAN: And what was the reason you did not?

HOPEFUL: 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, thought I with myself, if I leave off, I die, and I can but
die at the throne of grace. And withal this came into my mind, “If it tarry,
wait for it; because it will surely come, and will not tarry.” Hab. 2:3. So
I continued praying until the Father showed me his Son.

CHRISTIAN: And how was he revealed unto you?

HOPEFUL: I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but with the eyes of my
understanding, Eph. 1:18,19; and thus it was. One day I was very sad, I
think sadder than at any one time in my life; and this sadness was through a
fresh sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as I was then
looking for nothing but hell, and the everlasting damnation of my soul,
suddenly, as I thought, I saw the Lord Jesus looking down from heaven upon
me, and saying, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved.” Acts 16:31.

But I replied, Lord, I am a great, a very great sinner: and he answered, “My
grace is sufficient for thee.” 2 Cor. 12:9. Then I said, But, Lord, what is
believing? And then I saw from that saying, “He that cometh to me shall
never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst,” John 6:35,
that believing and coming was all one; and that he that came, that is, that
ran out in his heart and affections after salvation by Christ, he indeed
believed in Christ. Then the water stood in mine eyes, and I asked further,
But, Lord, may such a great sinner as I am be indeed accepted of thee, and
be saved by thee? And I heard him say, “And him that cometh to me, I will in
no wise cast out.” 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 world to save sinners.” 1 Tim.
1:15. He is the end of the law for righteousness to every one that believes.
Rom.10:4, and chap. 4. He died for our sins, and rose again for our
justification. Rom. 4:25. He loved us, and washed us from our sins in his
own blood. Rev. 1:5. He is the 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 for
satisfaction for my sins by his blood: that what he did in obedience to his
Father’s law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for himself,
but for him that will accept it for his salvation, and be thankful. And now
was my heart full of joy, mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections
running over with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ.

CHRISTIAN: This was a revelation of Christ to your soul indeed. But tell me
particularly what effect this had upon your spirit.

HOPEFUL: It made me see that all the world, notwithstanding all the
righteousness thereof, is in a state of condemnation. It made me see that
God the Father, though he be just, can justly justify the coming sinner. It
made me greatly ashamed of the vileness of my former life, and confounded me
with the sense of mine own ignorance; for there never came a thought into my
heart before now that showed me so the beauty 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 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, coming after. Look, said he to Christian, how far
yonder youngster loitereth behind.

CHRISTIAN: Aye, aye, I see him: he careth not for our company.

HOPEFUL: But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he kept pace with us
hitherto.

CHRISTIAN: That is true; but I warrant you he thinketh otherwise.

HOPEFUL: That I think he doth; but, however, let us tarry for him. (So they
did.)

Then Christian said to him, Come away, man; why do you stay so behind?

IGNORANCE: 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, said he, come up, and let us talk away
the time in this solitary place. Then, directing his speech to Ignorance, he
said, Come, how do you do? How stands it between God and your soul now?

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

CHRISTIAN: What good motions? Pray tell us.

IGNORANCE: Why, I think of God and heaven.

CHRISTIAN: So do the devils and damned souls.

IGNORANCE: But I think of them, and desire them.

CHRISTIAN: So do many that are never like to come there. “The soul of the
sluggard desireth, and hath nothing.” Prov. 13:4.

IGNORANCE: But I think of them, and leave all for them.

CHRISTIAN: 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?

IGNORANCE: My heart tells me so.

CHRISTIAN: The wise man says, “He that trusteth in his own heart is a
fool.” Prov. 28:26.

IGNORANCE: That is spoken of an evil heart; but mine is a good one.

CHRISTIAN: But how dost thou prove that?

IGNORANCE: It comforts me in hopes of heaven.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

IGNORANCE: But my heart and life agree together; and therefore my hope is
well-grounded.

CHRISTIAN: Who told thee that thy heart and life agree together?

IGNORANCE: My heart tells me so.

CHRISTIAN: “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.

IGNORANCE: 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?

CHRISTIAN: 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.

IGNORANCE: Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a life according to
God’s commandments?

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

IGNORANCE: What be good thoughts respecting ourselves?

CHRISTIAN: Such as agree with the word of God.

IGNORANCE: When do our thoughts of ourselves agree with the word of God?

CHRISTIAN: When we pass the same judgment upon ourselves which the word
passes. To explain myself: the word of God saith of persons in a natural
condition, “There is none righteous, there is none that doeth good.” It
saith also, that, “every imagination of the heart of man is only evil, and
that continually.” Gen. 6:5; Rom. 3. And again, “The imagination of man’s
heart is evil from his youth.” Gen. 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.

IGNORANCE: I will never believe that my heart is thus bad.

CHRISTIAN: 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 judgment which the word giveth of both, then are
both good, because agreeing thereto.

IGNORANCE: Make out your meaning.

CHRISTIAN: 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. Psa. 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 ways,
because his thoughts now agree with the judgment of the word of God.

IGNORANCE: What are good thoughts concerning God?

CHRISTIAN: Even, as I have said concerning ourselves, when our thoughts of
God do agree with what the word saith of him; and that is, when we think of
his being and attributes as the word hath taught, of which I cannot now
discourse at large. But to speak of him with reference to us: then have we
right thoughts of God when we think that he knows us better than we know
ourselves, and can see sin in us when and where we can see none in
ourselves; when we think he knows our inmost thoughts, and that our heart,
with all its depths, is always open unto his eyes; also when we think that
all our righteousness stinks in his nostrils, and that therefore he cannot
abide to see us stand before him in any confidence, even in all our best
performances.

IGNORANCE: Do you think that I am such a fool as to think that God can see
no further than I; or that I would come to God in the best of my
performances?

CHRISTIAN: Why, how dost thou think in this matter?

IGNORANCE: Why, to be short, I think I must believe in Christ for
justification.

CHRISTIAN: How! think thou must believe in Christ, when thou seest not thy
need of him! Thou neither seest thy original nor actual infirmities; but
hast such an opinion of thyself, and of what thou doest, as plainly renders
thee to be one that did never see the necessity of Christ’s personal
righteousness to justify thee before God. How, then, dost thou say, I
believe in Christ?

IGNORANCE: I believe well enough, for all that.

CHRISTIAN: How dost thou believe?

IGNORANCE: I believe that Christ died for sinners; and that I shall be
justified before God from the curse, through his gracious acceptance of my
obedience to his laws. Or thus, Christ makes my duties, that are religious,
acceptable to his Father by virtue of his merits, and so shall I be
justified.

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

1. Thou believest with a fantastical faith; for this faith is nowhere
described in the word.

2. Thou believest with a false faith; because it taketh justification from
the personal righteousness of Christ, and applies it to thy own.

3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy person, but of thy
actions; and of thy person for thy action’s sake, which is false.

4. Therefore this faith is deceitful, even such as will leave thee under
wrath in the day of God Almighty: for true justifying faith puts the soul,
as sensible of its lost condition by the law, upon flying for refuge unto
Christ’s righteousness; (which righteousness of his is not an act of grace
by which he maketh, for justification, thy obedience accepted with God, but
his personal obedience to the law, in doing and suffering for us what that
required at our hands;) this righteousness, I say, true faith accepteth;
under the skirt of which the soul being shrouded, and by it presented as
spotless before God, it is accepted, and acquitted from condemnation.

IGNORANCE: What! would you have us trust to what Christ in his own person
has done without us? This conceit would loosen the reins of our lust, and
tolerate us to live as we list: for what matter how we live, if we may be
justified by Christ’s personal righteousness from all, when we believe it?

CHRISTIAN: Ignorance is thy name, and as thy name is, so art thou: even this
thy answer demonstrateth what I say. Ignorant thou art of what justifying
righteousness is, and as ignorant how to secure thy soul, through the faith
of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, thou also art ignorant of the true
effects of saving faith in this righteousness of Christ, which is to bow and
win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his name, his word, ways, and
people, and not as thou ignorantly imaginest.

HOPEFUL: Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him from heaven.

IGNORANCE: What! you are a man for revelations! I do believe, that what both
you and all the rest of you say about that matter, is but the fruit of
distracted brains.

HOPEFUL: Why, man, Christ is so hid in God from the natural apprehensions of
the flesh, that he cannot by any man be savingly known, unless God the
Father reveals him to him.

IGNORANCE: That is your faith, but not mine, yet mine, I doubt not, is as
good as yours, though I have not in my head so many whimsies as you.

CHRISTIAN: Give me leave to put in a word. You ought not so slightly to
speak of this matter: for this I will boldly affirm, even as my good
companion hath done, that no man can know Jesus Christ but by the revelation
of the Father: yea, and faith too, by which the soul layeth hold upon
Christ, (if it be right,) must be wrought by the exceeding greatness of his
mighty power, Matt. 11:27; 1 Cor. 12:3; Eph. 1:17-19; the working of which
faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou art ignorant of. Be awakened, then,
see thine own 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.

IGNORANCE: You go so fast I cannot keep pace with you; do you go on before:
I must stay a while behind.

Then they said,


“Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet foolish be,

To slight good counsel, ten times given thee?

And if thou yet refuse it, thou shalt know,

Ere long, the evil of thy doing so.

Remember, man, in time: stoop, do not fear:

Good counsel, taken well, saves; therefore hear.

But if thou yet shalt slight it, thou wilt be

The loser, Ignorance, I’ll warrant thee.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE TENTH STAGE

Then Christian addressed himself thus to his fellow:

CHRISTIAN: Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that thou and I must walk
by ourselves again.

So I saw in my dream, that they went on apace before, and Ignorance he came
hobbling after. Then said Christian to his companion, I much pity this poor
man: it will certainly go ill with him at last.

HOPEFUL: 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?

CHRISTIAN: Indeed, the word saith, “He hath blinded their eyes, lest they
should see,” etc.

But, now we are by ourselves, what do you think of such men? Have they at no
time, think you, convictions of sin, and so, consequently, fears that their
state is dangerous?

HOPEFUL: Nay, do you answer that question yourself, for you are the elder
man.

CHRISTIAN: Then I say, sometimes (as I think) they may; but they being
naturally ignorant, understand not that such convictions tend to their good;
and therefore they do desperately seek to stifle them, and presumptuously
continue to flatter themselves in the way of their own hearts.

HOPEFUL: I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much to men’s good, and
to make them right at their beginning to go on pilgrimage.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

HOPEFUL: How will you describe right fear?

CHRISTIAN: True or right fear is discovered by three things:

1. By its rise; it is caused by saving convictions for sin.

2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for salvation.

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.

HOPEFUL: Well said; I believe you have said the truth. Are we now almost got
past the Enchanted Ground?

CHRISTIAN: Why? are you weary of this discourse?

HOPEFUL: No, verily, but that I would know where we are.

CHRISTIAN: 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 conviction as tend to put them in fear,
are for their good, and therefore they seek to stifle them.

HOPEFUL: How do they seek to stifle them?

CHRISTIAN: 1. They think that those fears are wrought by the devil, (though
indeed they are wrought of God,) and thinking so, they resist them, as
things that directly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these
fears tend to the spoiling of their faith; when, alas for them, poor men
that they are, they have none at all; and therefore they harden their hearts
against them. 3. They presume they ought not to fear, and therefore, in
despite of them, wax presumptuously 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.

HOPEFUL: I know something of this myself; for before I knew myself it was so
with me.

CHRISTIAN: Well, we will leave, at this time, our neighbor Ignorance by
himself, and fall upon another profitable question.

HOPEFUL: With all my heart; but you shall still begin.

CHRISTIAN: Well then, did you not know, about ten years ago, one Temporary
in your parts, who was a forward man in religion then?

HOPEFUL: Know him! yes; he dwelt in Graceless, a town about two miles off of
Honesty, and he dwelt next door to one Turnback.

CHRISTIAN: 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.

HOPEFUL: I am of your mind, for (my house not being above three miles from
him) he would oft-times 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!”

CHRISTIAN: He told me once that he was resolved to go on pilgrimage, as we
go now; but all of a sudden he grew acquainted with one Save-self, and then
he became a stranger to me.

HOPEFUL: Now, since we are talking about him, let us a little inquire into
the reason of the sudden backsliding of him and such others.

CHRISTIAN: It may be very profitable; but do you begin.

HOPEFUL: Well, then, there are, in my judgment, four reasons for it:

1. Though the consciences of such men are awakened, yet their minds are not
changed: therefore, when the power of guilt weareth away, that which
provoked them to be religious ceaseth; wherefore they naturally turn to
their own course again; even as we see the dog that is sick of what he hath
eaten, so long as his sickness prevails, he vomits and casts up all; not
that he doth this of a free mind, (if we may say a dog has a mind,) but
because it troubleth his stomach: but now, when his sickness is over, and so
his stomach eased, his desires being not at all alienated from his vomit, he
turns him about, and licks up all; and so it is true which is written, “The
dog is turned to his own vomit again.” 2 Pet. 2:22. Thus, I say, being hot
for heaven, by virtue only of the sense and fear of the torments of hell, as
their sense 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 them; they like not to see
their misery before they come into it; though perhaps the sight of at 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.

CHRISTIAN: You are pretty near the business, for the bottom of all is for
want of a change in their mind and will. And therefore they are but like the
felon that standeth before the judge: he quakes and trembles, and seems to
repent most heartily, but the bottom of all is the fear of the halter: not
that he hath any detestation of the offence, as it is evident; because, let
but this man have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue still;
whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be otherwise.

HOPEFUL: Now I have showed you the reason of their going back, do you show
me the manner thereof.

CHRISTIAN: So I will willingly.

1. They draw off their thoughts, all that they may, from the remembrance of
God, death, and judgment to come.

2. Then they cast off by degrees private duties, as closet prayer, curbing
their lusts, watching, sorrow for sin, and the like.

3. Then they shun the company of lively and warm Christians.

4. After that, they grow cold to public duty, as hearing, reading, godly
conference, and the like.

5. They then begin to pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of the
godly, and that devilishly, that they may have a seeming color to throw
religion (for the sake of some infirmities they have espied in them) behind
their backs.

6. Then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves with, carnal,
loose, and wanton men.

7. Then they give way to carnal and wanton discourses in secret; and glad
are they if they can see such things in any that are counted honest, that
they may the more boldly do it through their example.

8. After this they begin to play with little sins openly.

9. And then, being hardened, they show themselves as they are. Thus, being
launched again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace prevent
it, they everlastingly perish in their own deceivings.

Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pilgrims were got over the
Enchanted Ground, and entering into the country of Beulah, whose air was
very sweet and pleasant, Isaiah 62:4-12; Song 2:10-12; the way lying
directly through it, they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here
they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw every day the flowers
appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the turtle in the land. In this
country the sun shineth night and day: wherefore this was beyond the Valley
of the Shadow of Death, and also out of the reach of Giant Despair; neither
could they from this place so much as see Doubting Castle. Here they were
within sight of the city they were going to; also here met them some of the
inhabitants thereof; for in this land the shining ones commonly walked,
because it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also the contract
between the Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed; yea, here, “as the
bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth 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 pilgrimage. Here they heard voices
from out of the city, loud voices, saying, “Say ye to the daughter of Zion,
Behold, thy salvation cometh! Behold, his reward is with him!” Here all the
inhabitants of the country called them “the holy People, the redeemed of the
Lord, sought out,” etc.

Now, as they walked in this land, they had more rejoicing than in parts more
remote from the kingdom to which they were bound; and drawing near to the
city, they had yet a more perfect view thereof: It was builded of pearls and
precious stones, also the streets thereof were paved with gold; so that, by
reason 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 a while, crying out because
of their pangs, “If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick of love.”

But, being a little strengthened, and better able to bear their sickness,
they walked on their way, and came yet nearer and nearer, where were
orchards, vineyards, and gardens, and their gates opened into the highway.
Now, as they came up to these places, behold the gardener stood in the way;
to whom the pilgrims said, Whose goodly vineyards and gardens are these? He
answered, they are the King’s, and are planted here for his own delight, and
also for the solace of pilgrims. So the gardener had them into the
vineyards, and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties, Deut. 23:24;
he also showed them there the King’s walks and arbors where he delighted to
be: And here they tarried and slept.

Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in their sleep at this time
than ever they did in all their journey; and, being in a muse 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.” Song 7:9.

So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed themselves to go up to the
city. But, as I said, the reflection of the sun upon the city (for the city
was pure gold, Rev. 21:18,) was so 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 with in the way; and they told them.
Then said the men that met them, You have but two difficulties more to meet
with, and then you are in the City.

Christian then and his companion asked the men to go along with them: so
they told them that they would; But, said they, you must obtain it by your
own faith. So I saw in my dream, that they went on together till they came
in sight of the gate.

Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river; but there was
no bridge to go over, and the river was very deep. At the sight, therefore,
of this river the pilgrims were much stunned; but the men that went with
them said, You must go through, or you cannot come at the 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 trumpet shall sound. The pilgrims then,
especially Christian, began to despond in their mind, and looked this way
and that, but no way could be found by them by which they might escape the
river. Then they asked the men if the waters were all of a depth. They said,
No; yet they could not help them in that case; for, said they, you shall
find it deeper or shallower as you believe in the King of the place.

Then they addressed themselves to the water, and entering, Christian began
to sink, and crying out to his good friend Hopeful, he said, I sink in deep
waters; the billows go over my head; all his waves go over me. Selah.

Then said the other, Be of good cheer, my brother: I feel the bottom, and it
is good. Then said Christian, Ah! my friend, the sorrows of death have
compassed me about, I shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey.
And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he
could not see before him. Also here he in a great measure lost his senses,
so that he could neither remember nor orderly talk of any of those sweet
refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the
words that he spoke still tended to discover that he had horror of mind, and
heart-fears that he should die in that river, and never obtain entrance in
at the gate. Here also, as they that stood by perceived, he was much in the
troublesome thoughts of the sins that he had committed, both since and
before he began to be a pilgrim. It was also observed that he was troubled
with apparitions of hobgoblins and evil spirits; for ever and anon he would
intimate so much by words.

Hopeful therefore here had much ado to keep his brother’s head above water;
yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while, he would
rise up again half dead. Hopeful did also endeavor to comfort him, saying,
Brother, I see the gate, and men standing by to receive us; but Christian
would answer, It is you, it is you they wait for; for you have been hopeful
ever since I knew you. And so have you, said he to Christian. Ah, brother,
(said he,) surely if I was right he would now arise to help me; but for my
sins he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left me. Then said Hopeful,
My brother, you have quite forgot the text where it is said of the wicked,
“There are no bands in their death, but their strength is firm; they are not
troubled as other men, neither are they plagued like other men.” Psa.
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 a while. To whom also
Hopeful added these words, Be of good cheer, Jesus Christ maketh thee whole.
And with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, Oh, I see him again;
and he tells me, “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee;
and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.” Isa. 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, 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 ministering spirits, sent forth to
minister for those that shall be the heirs of salvation. Thus they went
along towards the gate.

Now you must note, that the city stood upon a mighty hill; but the pilgrims
went up that hill with ease, because they had these two men to lead them up
by the arms: they had likewise left their mortal garments behind them in the
river; for though they went in with them, they came out without them. They
therefore went up here with much agility and speed, though the foundation
upon which the city was framed was higher than the clouds; they therefore
went up through the region 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 “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 earth; to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction,
and death; “For the former things are passed away.” Rev. 21:4. You are going
now to Abraham, to Isaac, and Jacob, and to the prophets, men that God hath
taken away from the evil to come, and that are now “resting upon their beds,
each one walking in his righteousness.” The men then asked, What must we do
in the holy place? 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 delighted with seeing, and
your ears with hearing the pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall
enjoy your friends again that are gone thither before you; and there you
shall with joy receive even every one that follows into the holy place after
you. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an
equipage fit to ride out with the King of Glory. When he shall come with
sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you shall
come with him; and when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment, you shall
sit by him; yea, and when he shall pass sentence upon all the workers of
iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that
judgment, because they were his and your enemies. Also, when he shall again
return to the city, you shall go too with sound of trumpet, and be ever with
him. 1 Thess. 4:14-17; Jude 14,15; Dan. 7:9,10; 1 Cor. 6:2,3.

Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold a company of the
heavenly host came out to meet them: to whom it was said by the other two
shining ones, These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in
the world, and that have left all for his holy name; and he hath sent us to
fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their desired journey, that
they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy. Then the
heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, “Blessed are they that are called
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 noises and loud, made even the heavens
to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow
with ten thousand welcomes from the world; and this they did with shouting
and sound of trumpet.

This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before, some
behind, and some on the right hand, and some on the left, (as it were to
guard them through the upper regions,) continually sounding as they went,
with melodious noise, in notes on high; so that the very sight was to them
that could behold it as if heaven itself was come down to meet them. Thus,
therefore, they walked on together; and, as they walked, ever and anon these
trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks
and gestures, still signify to Christian and his 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, before they came to it, being
swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing of their melodious
notes. Here also they had the city itself in view; and they thought they
heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them 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 right to the
tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.”

Then I saw in my dream, that the shining men bid them call at the gate: the
which when they did, some from above looked over the gate, to wit, Enoch,
Moses, and Elijah, etc., to whom it was said, These pilgrims are come from
the City of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this
place; and then the pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate,
which they had received in the beginning: those therefore were carried in
unto 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 the
truth may enter in.”

Isa. 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.
Then I heard in my dream, that all the bells in the city rang again for joy,
and that it was said unto them,

“enter ye into the joy of your lord.”

I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a loud voice, saying,

“blessing, and honor, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon
the throne, and unto the lamb, for ever and ever.”

Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after
them, and behold the city shone like the sun; the streets also were paved
with gold; and in them walked many men, with crowns on their heads, palms in
their hands, and golden harps, to sing praises withal.

There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another
without intermission, saying, Holy, holy, holy is the Lord. And after that
they shut up the gates; which, when I had seen, I wished myself among them.

Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look
back, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side; but he soon got over, and
that without half the difficulty which the other two men met with. For it
happened that there was then in that place one Vain-Hope, a ferryman, that
with his boat helped him over; so he, as the other I saw, did ascend the
hill, to come up to the gate; only he came alone, neither did any man meet
him with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the gate, he looked
up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that
entrance should have been quickly administered to him; but he was asked by
the men that looked over the top of the gate, Whence come you? and what
would you have? He 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 way to hell, even from the gate of heaven, as
well as from the City of Destruction. So I awoke, and behold it was a dream.
_________________________________________________________________

CONCLUSION


Now, reader, I have told my dream to thee,

See if thou canst interpret it to me,

Or to thyself, or neighbor: but take heed

Of misinterpreting; for that, instead

Of doing good, will but thyself abuse:

By misinterpreting, evil ensues.

Take heed, also, that thou be not extreme

In playing with the outside of my dream;

Nor let my figure or similitude

Put thee into a laughter, or a feud.

Leave this for boys and fools; but as for thee,

Do thou the substance of my matter see.

Put by the curtains, look within my veil,

Turn up my metaphors, and do not fail.

There, if thou seekest them, such things thou’lt find

As will be helpful to an honest mind.

What of my dross thou findest there, be bold

To throw away, but yet preserve the gold.

What if my gold be wrapped up in ore?

None throw away the apple for the core:

But if thou shalt cast all away as vain,

I know not but ‘t will make me dream again.
_________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________

PART II

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 have used similtudes.—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 Pilgrim brings.

Let them acquainted be, too, how they are

Beloved of their King, under his care;

What goodly mansions he for them provides;

Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides,

How brave a calm they will enjoy at last,

Who to their Lord, and by his ways hold fast.


Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace

Thee, as they did my firstling; and will grace

Thee and thy fellows with such cheer and fare,

As show well, they of Pilgrims lovers are.


Objection i

But how if they will not believe of me

That I am truly thine? ‘cause some there be

That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name,

Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same;

And by that means have wrought themselves into

The hands and houses of I know not who.


answer

’Tis true, some have, of late, to counterfeit

My Pilgrim, to their own my title set;

Yea, others half my name, and title too,

Have stitched to their books, to make them do.

But yet they, by their features, do declare

Themselves not mine to be, whose’er they are.


If such thou meet’st with, then thine only way

Before them all, is, to say out thy say

In thine own native language, which no man

Now useth, nor with ease dissemble can.


If, after all, they still of you shall doubt,

Thinking that you, like gypsies, go about,

In naughty wise the country to defile;

Or that you seek good people to beguile

With things unwarrantable; send for me,

And I will testify you pilgrims be;

Yea, I will testify that only you

My Pilgrims are, and that alone will do.


Objection ii

But yet, perhaps, I may enquire for him

Of those who wish him damned life and limb.

What shall I do, when I at such a door

For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more?


answer

Fright not thyself, my Book, for such bugbears

Are nothing else but groundless fears.

My Pilgrim’s book has traveled 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 esteemed 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, newcloth’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 greater bulk; yea, with delight

Say, my lark’s leg is better than a kite.

Young ladies, and young gentlewomen too,

Do not small kindness to my Pilgrim show;

Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts,

My Pilgrim has; ’cause he to them imparts

His pretty riddles in such wholsome strains,

As yield them profit double to thetr 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 not love him at first,

But call’d him fool and noddy, say they must,

Now they have seen and heard him, him commend

And to those whom they love they do him send.


Wherefore, my Second Part, thou need’st not be

Afraid to show thy head: none can hurt thee,

That wish but well to him that went before;

’Cause thou com’st after with a second 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.


answer

One may, I think, say, Both his laughs and cries

May well be guess’d at by his wat’ry eyes.

Some things are of that nature, as to make

One’s fancy chuckle, while his heart doth ache:

When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep,

He did at the same time both kiss and weep.


Whereas some say, A cloud is in his head;

That doth but show his wisdom’s covered

With its own mantles—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?


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 prithee on them smile:

Perhaps ‘tis nature, or some ill report,

Has made them thus despise, or thus retort.


Some love no fish, some love no cheese, and some

Love not their friends, nor their own house or home;

Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl

More than they love a cuckoo or an owl.

Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice,

And seek those who to find thee will rejoice;

By no means strive, but, in most humble wise,

Present thee to them in thy Pilgrim’s guise.


Go then, my little Book, and show to all

That entertain and bid thee welcome shall,

What thou shalt keep close shut up from the rest;

And wish what thou shalt show them may be bless’d

To them for good, and make them choose to be

Pilgrims, by better far than thee or me.

Go, then, I say, tell all men who thou art:

Say, I am Christiana; and my part

Is now, with my four sons, to tell you what

It is for men to take a Pilgrim’s lot.


Go, also, tell them who and what they be

That now do go on pilgrimage with thee;

Say, Here’s my neighbor Mercy: she is one

That has long time with me a pilgrim gone:

Come, see her in her virgin face, and learn

’Twixt idle ones and pilgrims to discern.

Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize

The world which is to come, in any wise.

When little tripping maidens follow God,

And leave old doting sinners to his rod,

’Tis like those days wherein the young ones cried

Hosanna! when the old ones did deride.


Next tell them of old Honest, whom you found

With his white hairs treading the Pilgrim’s ground;

Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was;

How after his good Lord he bare the cross.

Perhaps with some gray head, this may prevail

With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail.


Tell them also, how Master Fearing went

On pilgrimage, and how the time he spent

In solitariness, with fears and cries;

And how, at last, he won the joyful prize.

He was a good man, though much down in 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 opinion much agree.

And let 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 pull down Doubting-Castle, slay Despair!


Overlook not Master Despondency,

Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie

Under such mantles, as may make them look

(With some) as if their God had them forsook.

They softly went, but sure; and, at the end,

Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend.

When thou hast told the world of all these things,

Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings;

Which, if but touched, will such music make,

They’ll make a cripple dance, a giant quake.


Those riddles that lie couched within thy breast,

Freely propound, expound; and for the rest

Of thy mysterious lines, let them remain

For those whose nimble fancies shall them gain.


Now may this little Book a blessing be

To those who love this little Book and me;

And may its buyer have no cause to say,

His money is but lost or thrown away.

Yea, may this second Pilgrim yield that fruit

As may with each good Pilgrim’s fancy suit;

And may it some persuade, that go astray,

To turn their feet and heart to the right way,

Is the hearty prayer of
The Author,
JOHN BUNYAN.
_________________________________________________________________

courteous companions,

Some time since, to tell you my dream that I had of Christian the pilgrim,
and of his dangerous journey towards 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
whence he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make
further inquiry after those 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 lodging in a wood about a mile
off the place, as I slept, I dreamed again.

And as I was in my dream, behold, an aged gentleman 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 possessed with a very ill-conditioned and
idle sort of people.

I thought that was that city, quoth I; I went once myself through that town;
and therefore know that this report you give of it is true.

MR. SAGACITY: Too true! I wish I could speak truth in speaking better of
them that dwell therein.

Well, sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well-meaning man, and so one
that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good. Pray, did you
never hear what happened to a man some time ago of this town, (whose name
was Christian,) that went on a pilgrimage up towards the higher regions?

MR. SAGACITY: Hear of him! Aye, and I also heard of the molestations,
troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, frights, and fears, that he met
with and had on his journey. Besides, I must tell you, all our country rings
of him; there are but few houses that have heard of him and his doings, but
have sought after and got the records of his pilgrimage; yea, I think I may
say that his hazardous journey has got many well-wishers to his ways; for,
though when he was here he was fool in every man’s mouth, yet now he is gone
he is highly commended of all. For ‘tis said he lives bravely where he is:
yea, many of them that are resolved never to run his hazards, yet have their
mouths water at his gains.

They may, quoth I, well think, if they think any thing that is true, that he
liveth well where he is; for he now lives at, and in the fountain of life,
and has what he has without labor and sorrow, for there is no grief mixed
therewith. But, pray what talk have the people about him?

MR. SAGACITY: Talk! the people talk strangely about him: some say that he
now walks in white, Rev. 3:4; that he has a chain of gold about his neck;
that he has a crown of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head: others say,
that the shining ones, who sometimes showed themselves to him in his
journey, are become his companions, and that he is as familiar with them
where he is, as here one neighbor is with another. Besides, it is
confidently affirmed concerning him, that the King of the place where he is
has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at court,
and that he every day eateth and drinketh, and walketh and talketh with him,
and receiveth of the smiles and favors of him that is Judge of all there.
Zech. 3:7; Luke 14:14,15. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his Prince,
the Lord of that country, will shortly come into these parts, and will know
the reason, if they can give any, why his neighbors set so little by him,
and had him so much in derision, when they perceived that he would be a
pilgrim. Jude, 14,15.

For they say, that now he is so in the affections of his Prince, that his
Sovereign is so much concerned with the indignities that were cast upon
Christian when he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all as if done
unto himself, Luke 10:16; and no marvel, for it was for the love that he had
to his Prince that he ventured as he did.

I dare say, quoth I; I am glad on’t; I am glad for the poor man’s sake, for
that now he has rest from his labor, and for that he now 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 hate him. Rev. 14:13; Psa.
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 anything of his wife and children? Poor hearts! I wonder in my mind
what they do.

MR. SAGACITY: Who? Christiana and her sons? They are like to do as well as
Christian did himself; for though they all played the fool at first, and
would by no means be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of
Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them: so they
have packed up, and are also gone after him.

Better and better, quoth I: but, what! wife and children, and all?

MR. SAGACITY: 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.

MR. SAGACITY: You need not fear to affirm it: I mean, that they are all gone
on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four boys. And being we are, as I
perceive, going some 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 themselves to a pilgrim’s life,) after her husband was gone
over the river, and she could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to
work in her mind. First, for that she had lost her husband, and for that the
loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you know,
said he to me, nature can do no less but entertain the living with many a
heavy cogitation, in the remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This,
therefore, of her husband did cost her many a tear. But this was not all;
for Christiana did also begin to consider with herself, whether her
unbecoming behavior towards her husband was not one cause that she saw him
no more, and that in such sort he was taken away from her. And upon this
came into her mind, by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and ungodly
carriage to her dear friend; which also clogged her conscience, and did load
her with guilt. She was, moreover, much broken with recalling to remembrance
the restless groans, brinish tears, and self-bemoanings of her husband, and
how she did harden her heart against all his entreaties and loving
persuasions of her and her sons to go with him; yea, there was not any thing
that Christian either said to her, or did before her, all the while that his
burden did hang on his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of
lightning, and rent the caul of her heart in sunder; especially that bitter
outcry of his, “What shall I do to be saved?” did ring in her ears most
dolefully.

Then said she to her children, Sons, we are all undone. I have sinned away
your father, and he is gone: he would have had us with him, but I would not
go myself: I also have hindered you of life. With that the boys fell into
tears, and cried out to go after their father. Oh, said Christiana, that it
had been but our lot to go with him! then had it fared well with us, beyond
what it is like to do now. For, though I formerly foolishly imagined,
concerning the troubles of your father, that they proceeded of a foolish
fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with melancholy humors; yet
now it will not out of my mind, but that they sprang from another cause; to
wit, for that the light of life was given him, James 1:23-25; John 8:12; by
the help of which, as I perceive, he has escaped the snares of death. Prov.
14:27. Then they all wept again, and cried out, Oh, woe worth the day!

The next night Christiana had a dream; and, behold, she saw as if a broad
parchment was opened before her, in which were recorded the sum of her ways;
and the crimes, as she thought looked very black upon her. Then she cried
out aloud in her sleep, “Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner!” Luke 18:13; and
the little children heard her.

After this she thought she saw two very ill-favored ones standing by her
bedside, and saying, What shall we do with this woman? for she cries out for
mercy, waking and sleeping: if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we
shall lose her as we have lost her husband. Wherefore we must, by one way or
other, seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter,
else all the world cannot help but she will become a 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 immortals, with a harp in his
hand, standing and playing upon it before One that sat on a throne with a
rainbow about his head. She saw also, as if he bowed his head with his face
to the paved work that was under his Prince’s feet, saying, “I heartily
thank my Lord and King for bringing me into this place.” Then shouted a
company of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps; but no
man living could tell what they said but Christian and his companions.

Next morning, when she was up, had prayed to God, and talked with her
children a while, one knocked hard at the door; to whom she spake out,
saying, “If thou comest in God’s name, come in.” So he said, “Amen;” and
opened the door, and saluted her with, “Peace be to this house.” The which
when he had done, he said, “Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I am come?”
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 husband, in hardening of
thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these babes in their ignorance.
Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to tell thee, that he is a God
ready to forgive, and that he taketh delight to multiply 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 legions more, his
companions, ever beholding that face that doth minister life to beholders;
and they will all be glad when they shall hear the sound of thy feet step
over thy Father’s threshold.”

Christiana at this was greatly abashed in herself, and bowed her head to the
ground. This visitor proceeded, and said, “Christiana, here is also a letter
for thee, which I have brought from thy husband’s King.” So she took it, and
opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume. Song 1:3. Also
it was written 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
ever. At this the good woman was quite overcome; so she cried out to her
visitor, Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we also may
go and worship the King?

Then said the visitor, Christiana, the bitter is before the sweet. Thou must
through troubles, as did 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 yonder, over the plain, for that stands at the head of the way
up which thou must go; and I wish thee all good speed. Also I advise that
thou put this letter in thy bosom, that thou read therein to thyself and to
thy children until you have got it by heart; for it is one of the songs that
thou must sing while thou art in this house of thy pilgrimage, Psalm 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, I have, as you may perceive, been of late under
much exercise in my soul about the death of your father: not for that I
doubt at all of his happiness, for I am satisfied now that he is well. I
have also been much affected with the thoughts of my own state and yours,
which I verily believe is by nature miserable. My carriage also to your
father in 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 has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up, and
begone to the gate that leads to the Celestial country, that we may see your
father, and be with him and his companions in peace, according to the laws
of that land.

Then did her children burst out into tears, for joy that the heart of their
mother was so inclined. So their visitor bid them farewell; and they began
to prepare to set out for their journey.

But while they were thus about to be gone, two of the women that were
Christiana’s neighbors came up to her house, and knocked at her door. To
whom she said as before, If you come in God’s name, come in. At this the
women were stunned; for this kind of language they used not to hear, or to
perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. Yet they came in: but behold,
they found the good woman preparing to be gone from her house.

So they began, and said, Neighbor, pray what is your meaning by this?

Christiana answered, and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs.
Timorous, I am preparing for a journey.

This Timorous was daughter to him that met Christian upon the Hill of
Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.

TIMOROUS: For what journey, I pray you?

CHRISTIANA: Even to go after my good husband. And with that she fell a
weeping.

TIMOROUS: I hope not so, good neighbor; pray, for your poor children’s sake,
do not so unwomanly cast away yourself.

CHRISTIANA: Nay, my children shall go with me; not one of them is willing to
stay behind.

TIMOROUS: I wonder in my very heart what or who has brought you into this
mind!

CHRISTIANA: O neighbor, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that
you would go along with me.

TIMOROUS: Prithee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy
mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where?

CHRISTIANA: Then Christiana replied, I have been sorely afflicted since my
husband’s departure from me; but especially since he went over the river.
But that which troubleth me most is, my churlish carriage to him when he was
under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then; nothing will serve me
but going on pilgrimage. I was a dreaming last night that I saw him. O that
my soul was with him! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of the
country; he sits and eats with him at his table; he is become a companion of
immortals, and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best
palace on earth, if compared, seems to me but a dunghill. 2 Cor. 5:1-4. The
Prince of the place has also sent for me, with promise of entertainment, if
I shall come to him; his messenger was here even now, and has brought me a
letter, which invites me to come. And with that she plucked out her letter,
and read it, and said to them, What now will you say to this?

TIMOROUS: 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 Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger that he met
with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten by thee. For if he, though a man, was so
hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do? Consider also,
that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh and thy bones.
Wherefore, though thou shouldest be so rash as to cast away thyself, yet,
for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep thou at home.

But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my neighbor: I have now a price
put into my hands to get gain, and I should be a fool of the 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,
they are so far from being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in
the right. The bitter must come before the sweet, and that also will make
the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God’s
name, as I said, I pray you to be gone, and not to disquiet me further.

Then Timorous reviled her, and said to her 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 comply with her neighbor; and
that for a two fold reason. 1. Her bowels yearned over Christiana. So she
said within herself, if my neighbor will needs be gone, I will go a little
way with her, and help her. 2. Her bowels yearned over her own soul; for
what Christiana had said had taken some hold 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:

MERCY: Neighbor, I did indeed come with you to see Christiana this morning;
and since she is, as you see, taking of her last farewell of the country, I
think to walk this sunshiny morning a little with her, to help her on her
way. But she told her not of her second reason, but kept it to herself.

TIMOROUS: Well, I see you have a mind to go a fooling too; but take heed in
time, and be wise: while we are out of danger, we are out; but when we are
in, we are in.

So Mrs. Timorous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to her
journey. But when Timorous was got home to her house she sends for some of
her neighbors, to wit, Mrs. Bat’s-Eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-Mind,
and Mrs. Know-Nothing. So when they were come to her house, she falls to
telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended journey. And thus
she began her tale:

TIMOROUS: Neighbors, having had little to do this morning, I went to give
Christiana a visit; and when I came at the door I knocked, as you know it is
our custom; and she answered, If you come in God’s name, come in. So in I
went, thinking all was well; but, when I came in I found her preparing
herself to depart the town, she, and also her children. So I asked her what
was her meaning by that. And she told me, in short, that she was now of a
mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told me also of a dream
that she had, and how the King of the country where her husband was, had
sent an inviting letter to come thither.

Then said Mrs. Know-Nothing, And what, do you think she will go?

TIMOROUS: Aye, go she will, whatever comes on’t; and methinks I know it by
this; for that which was my great argument to persuade her to stay at home,
(to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with on the way,) is one great
argument with her to put her forward on her journey. For she told me in so
many words, The bitter goes before the sweet; yea, and forasmuch as it doth,
it makes the sweet the sweeter.

MRS. BAT’S-EYES: Oh, this blind and foolish woman! said she; and will she
not take warning by her husband’s 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 good riddance, for my part, I say, of her; should she stay
where she dwells, and retain this her mind, who could live quietly by her?
for she will either be dumpish, or unneighborly, or talk of such matters as
no wise body can abide. Wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry for
her departure; let her go, and let better come in her room: it was never a
good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it.

Then Mrs. Light-Mind added as followeth: Come, put this kind of talk away. I
was yesterday at Madam Wanton’s, where we were as merry as the maids. For
who do you think should be there but I and Mrs. Love-the-Flesh, and three or
four more, with Mrs. Lechery, Mrs. Filth, and some others: so there we had
music and dancing, and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And I
dare say, my lady herself is an admirable well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr.
Lechery is as pretty a fellow.
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THE FIRST STAGE

By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with her:
so as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to
discourse. And, Mercy, said Christiana, I take this as an unexpected favor,
that thou shouldest set forth out of doors with me to accompany me a little
in the way.

MERCY: Then said young Mercy, (for she was but young,) If I thought it would
be to purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town any more.

CHRISTIANA: Well, Mercy, said Christiana, cast in thy lot with me: I well
know what will be the end of our pilgrimage: my husband is where he would
not but be for all the gold in the Spanish mines. Nor shalt thou be
rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King, who hath sent
for me and my children, is one that delighteth in mercy. Besides, if thou
wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant. Yet
we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me: only go along with
me.

MERCY: But how shall I be ascertained that I also should be entertained? Had
I this hope but from one that can tell, I would make no stick at all, but
would go, being helped by Him that can help, though the way was never so
tedious.

CHRISTIANA: Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do: go with
me to the Wicket-gate, and there I will further inquire for thee; and if
there thou shalt not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou
return to thy place: I will also pay thee for thy kindness which thou
showest to me and my children, in the accompanying of us in the way that
thou dost.

MERCY: 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 of heaven shall have his
heart upon me.

Christiana then was glad at heart, not only that she had a companion, but
also for that she had prevailed with this poor 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?

MERCY: Alas! said she, who can but lament, that shall but rightly consider
what a state and condition my poor relations are in, that yet remain in our
sinful town? And that which makes my grief the more heavy is, because they
have no instructor, nor any to tell them what is to come.

CHRISTIANA: Pity becomes pilgrims; and thou dost weep for thy friends, as my
good Christian did for me when he left me: he mourned for that I would not
heed nor regard him; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears, and put
them into his bottle; and now both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, are
reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, that these tears of
thine will not be lost; for the truth hath said, that “they that sow in
tears shall reap in joy.” And “he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing
precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his
sheaves with him.” Psa. 126:5,6.

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,

With all their heart and mind.”

Now my old friend proceeded, and said, But when Christiana came to the
Slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand; For, said she, this is the
place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with mud. She
perceived, also, that notwithstanding the command of the King to make this
place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So I asked
if that was true. Yes, said the old gentleman, too true; for many there be
that pretend to be the King’s laborers, and that say they are for mending
the King’s highways, who bring dirt and dung instead of stones, and so mar
instead of mending. Here Christiana therefore, with her boys, did make a
stand. But said Mercy, Come, let us venture; only let us be wary. Then they
looked well to their steps, and made a shift to get staggering over.

Yet Christiana had like to have been in, and that not once or twice. Now
they had no sooner got over, but they thought they heard words that said
unto them, “Blessed is she that believeth; for there shall be a performance
of those things which were told her from the Lord.” Luke 1:45.

Then they went on again; and said Mercy to Christiana, had I as good ground
to hope for a loving reception at the Wicket-gate as you, I 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 enough evil before we come to our journey’s end. For can
it be imagined that the people who design to attain such excellent glories
as we do, and who are so envied that happiness as we are, but that we shall
meet with what fears and snares, with what troubles and afflictions they can
possibly assault us with that hate us?

And now Mr. Sagacity left me to dream out my dream by myself. Wherefore,
methought I saw Christiana, and Mercy, and the boys, go all of them up to
the gate: to which, when they were come, they betook themselves to a short
debate about how they must manage their calling at the gate, and what should
be said unto him that did open to them: so it was concluded, since
Christiana was the eldest, that she should knock for entrance, and that she
should speak to him that did open, for the rest. So Christiana began to
knock, and as her poor husband did, she knocked and knocked again. But
instead of any that answered, they all thought they heard as if a dog came
barking upon them; a dog, and a great one too; and this made the women and
children afraid. Nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear the
mastiff should fly upon them. Now, therefore, they were greatly tumbled up
and down in their minds, and knew not what to do: knock they durst not, for
fear of the dog; go back they durst not, for fear the keeper of that gate
should espy them as they so went, and should be offended with them; at last
they thought of knocking again, and knocked more vehemently than they did at
first. Then said the keeper of the gate, Who is there? So the dog left off
to bark, and he opened unto them.

Then Christiana made low obeisance, and said, Let not our Lord be offended
with his handmaidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate. Then
said the keeper, Whence come ye? And what is it that you would have?

Christiana answered, We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon
the same errand as he; to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously
admitted by this gate into the way that leads unto the Celestial City. And I
answer, my Lord, in the next place, that 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 said, Yea; and so are these my sweet babes also.

Then he took her by the hand and led her in, and said also, Suffer little
children to come unto me; and with that he shut up the gate. This done, he
called to a trumpeter that was above, over the gate, to entertain Christiana
with shouting, and 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.

CHRISTIANA: And she said, My Lord, I have a companion that stands yet
without, that is come hither upon the same account as myself: one that is
much dejected in her mind, for that she comes, as she thinks, without
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; wherefore she prevented Christiana from a fuller interceding for
her, by knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked then so loud that she
made Christiana to start. Then said the keeper of the gate, Who is there?
And Christiana said, It is my friend.

So he opened the gate, and looked out, but Mercy was fallen down without in
a swoon, for she fainted, and was afraid that no gate should be opened to
her.

Then he took her by the hand, and said, Damsel, I bid thee arise.

Oh, sir, said she, I am faint; there is scarce life left in me. But he
answered, that one once said, “When my soul fainted within me I remembered
the Lord: and my prayer came unto thee, into thy holy temple.” Jonah 2:7.
Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come.

MERCY: 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?

MERCY: 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 on me, by what means soever they come unto me.
Then said he to those that stood by, Fetch something and give it to Mercy to
smell on, thereby to stay her faintings; so they fetched her a bundle of
myrrh, and a while after she was revived.

And now were Christiana and her boys, and Mercy, received of the Lord at the
head of the way, and spoken kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further
unto him, We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and
further information what we must do.

I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed; by word in the promise of
forgiveness, by deed in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips
with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed. Song 1:2; John 20:20.

Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they
were greatly gladdened. He also had them up to the top of the gate, and
showed them by what deed they were saved; and told them withal, that that
sight they would have again as they went along in the way, to their comfort.

So he left them awhile in a summer parlor below, where they entered into
talk by themselves; and thus Christiana began. O how glad am I that we are
got in hither.

MERCY: So you well may; but I, of all, have cause to leap for joy.

CHRISTIANA: I thought one time, as I stood at the gate, because I had
knocked and none did answer, that all our labor had been lost, especially
when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking against us.

MERCY: But my worst fear was after I saw that you was taken into his favor,
and that I was left behind. Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is
written, “Two women shall be grinding at the mill; the one shall be taken,
and the other left.” Matt. 24:41. I had much ado to forbear crying out,
Undone! And afraid I was to knock any more; but when I looked up to what was
written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought that I must either
knock again, or die; so I knocked, but I cannot tell how, for my spirit now
struggled between life and death.

CHRISTIANA: Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your knocks were so
earnest that the very sound of them made me start; I thought I never heard
such knocking in all my life; I thought you would come in by a violent hand,
or take the kingdom by storm. Matt. 11:12.

MERCY: 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 there was a most cruel dog
thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, would not have
knocked with all their might? But pray, what said my Lord to my rudeness?
Was he not angry with me?

CHRISTIANA: When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a wonderful innocent
smile; I believe what you did pleased him well, for he showed no sign to the
contrary. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog: had I known that
before, I should not have had heart enough to have ventured myself in this
manner. But now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all my heart.

MERCY: I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such
a filthy cur in his yard; I hope he will not take it amiss.

Do so, said the children, and persuade him to hang him; for we are afraid he
will bite us when we go hence.

So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her
face before him, and worshiped, and said, “Let my Lord accept the sacrifice
of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips.”

So he said unto her, Peace be to thee; stand up. But she continued upon her
face, and said, “Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee; yet let
me talk with thee of thy judgments.” Jer. 12:1. Wherefore dost thou keep so
cruel a dog in thy yard, at the sight of which such women and children as we
are ready to fly from thy gate for fear?

He answered and said, That dog has another owner; he also is kept close in
another man’s 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 wouldest not have been
afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door, will, rather than
lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, barking, and biting too
of a dog; and shall a dog, a dog in another man’s yard, a dog whose barking
I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any from coming to me? I deliver them
from the lions, and my darling from the power of the dog. Psa. 22:21,22.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, I confess my ignorance; I spake what I understood
not; I acknowledge that thou doest all things well.

CHRISTIANA: 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.
_________________________________________________________________

THE SECOND STAGE

So I saw in my dream, that they walked on their way, and had the weather
very comfortable to them.

Then Christiana began to sing, saying,


Blessed be the day that I began

A pilgrim for to be;

And blessed also be the man

That thereto moved me.


’Tis true, ‘t was long ere I began

To seek to live for ever;

But now I run fast as I can:

‘Tis better late than never.


Our tears to joy, our fears to faith,

Are turned, as we see;

Thus our beginning (as one saith)

Shows what our end will be.

Now there was, on the other side of the wall that fenced in the way up which
Christiana and her companions were to go, a garden, and that garden belonged
to him whose was that barking dog, of whom mention was made before. And some
of the fruit-trees that grew in that garden shot their branches over the
wall; and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and eat of
them to their hurt. So Christiana’s boys, as boys are apt to do, being
pleased with the trees, and with the fruit that hung thereon, 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 belonged to the enemy: I’ll warrant you, if she had
she would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on
their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bow-shots from the place
that led them into the way, they espied two very ill-favored ones coming
down apace to meet them. With that, Christiana and Mercy her friend covered
themselves with their veils, and so kept on their journey: the children also
went on before; so that at last they met together. Then they that came down
to meet them, came just up to the women, as if they would embrace them; but
Christiana said, stand back, or go peaceably as you should. Yet these two,
as men that are deaf, regarded not Christiana’s words, but began to lay
hands upon them: at that Christiana waxing very wroth, 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-FAVORED ONES: Then said one of the two men, We make no assault upon you
for money, but are come out to tell you, that if you will but grant one
small request which we shall ask, we will make women of you for ever.

CHRISTIANA: 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-FAVORED ONES: And they said, We intend no hurt to your lives; it is
another thing we would have.

CHRISTIANA: Aye, quoth Christiana, you would have us body and soul, for I
know it is for that you are come; but we will die rather upon the spot, than
to suffer ourselves to be brought into such snares as shall hazard our
well-being hereafter. 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 women. 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 heard from whence they were, thither: wherefore some of the
house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana’s tongue, they made haste
to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women
were in a very great scuffle; the children also stood crying by. Then did he
that came in for their relief call out to the ruffians, saying, What is that
thing you do? Would you make my Lord’s people to transgress? He also
attempted to take them, but they did make their escape over the wall into
the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged; so the dog 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 camest in to our
help, otherwise we had been overcome.

RELIEVER: So, after a few more words, this Reliever said as followeth: I
marveled much, when you were entertained at the gate 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 dangers; for he
would have granted you one.

CHRISTIANA: Alas! said Christiana, we were so taken with our present
blessing, that dangers to come were forgotten by us. Besides, 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.

RELIEVER: It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest by
so doing they become of little esteem; but when the want of a thing is felt,
it then comes under, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that
properly is its due, and so consequently will be 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.

CHRISTIANA: Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly, and
ask one?

RELIEVER: 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 one of my Lord’s lodgings, which he has
prepared for the reception of his pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish
them against all attempts whatsoever. But, as I said, He will be inquired of
by them, to do it for them. 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.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here! I made account that we
had been past all danger, and that we should never see sorrow more.

CHRISTIANA: Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, may excuse
thee much; but as for me, my fault is so much the greater, for that I saw
this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it
when provision might have been had. I am much to be blamed.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you came from home? Pray
open to me this riddle.

CHRISTIANA: Why, I will tell you. Before I set foot out of doors, one night
as I lay in my bed I had a dream about 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 sufferet do go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her
husband. This you know might have made me take heed, and have provided when
provision might have been had.

MERCY: Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an occasion ministered
unto us to behold our own imperfections, so our Lord has taken occasion
thereby to make manifest the riches of his grace; for he, as we see, has
followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands
that were stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure.

Thus now, when they had talked away a little more time, they drew near to a
house which stood in the way, which house was built for the relief of
pilgrims, as you will find more fully related in the first part of these
records of the Pilgrim’s Progress. So they drew on towards the house, (the
house of the Interpreter;) and when they came to the door, they heard a
great talk in the house. Then they gave ear, and heard, as they thought,
Christiana mentioned by name; for you must know that there went along, even
before her, a talk of her and her children’s going on pilgrimage. And this
was the most 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 commending her who they little thought stood at the door. At
last Christiana knocked, as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she
had knocked, there came to the door a young damsel, and opened the door, and
looked, and behold, two women were there.

THE DAMSEL: Then said the damsel to them, With whom would you speak in this
place?

CHRISTIANA: Christiana answered, We understand that this is a privileged
place for those that are become pilgrims, and we now at this door are such:
wherefore we pray that we may be partakers of that for which we at this time
are come; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loth
to-night to go any further.

THE DAMSEL: Pray, what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord
within.

CHRISTIANA: My name is Christiana; I was the wife of that pilgrim that some
years ago did travel this way, and these be his four children. This maiden
also is my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too.

INNOCENT: Then 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 they
leaped for joy, and went and told their Master. So he 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 to a pilgrim’s life.

CHRISTIANA: I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as to slight my
husband’s troubles, and that left him to go on in his journey alone, and
these are his four children; but now I also am come, for I am convinced that
no way is right but this.

INTERPRETER: Then is fulfilled that which is written of the man that said to
his son, “Go work to-day in my vineyard; and he said to his father, I will
not: but afterwards repented and went.” Matt. 21:29.

CHRISTIANA: Then said Christiana, So be it: Amen. God made it a true saying
upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last of him in peace, without
spot, and blameless.

INTERPRETER: But why standest thou thus at the door? Come in, thou daughter
of Abraham; we were talking of thee but now, for tidings have come to us
before how thou art become a pilgrim. Come, children, come in; come, maiden,
come in. So he had them all into the house.

So when they were within, they were bidden to sit down and rest them; the
which when they had done, those that attended upon the pilgrims in the house
came into the room to see them. And one smiled, and another smiled, and they
all smiled for joy that Christiana was become a pilgrim: They also looked
upon the 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 Master’s house.

After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them into
his Significant Rooms, and showed them what Christian, Christiana’s husband,
had seen some time before. Here, therefore, they saw the man in the cage,
the man and his dream, the man that cut his way through his enemies, and the
picture of the biggest of them all, together with the rest of those things
that were then so profitable to Christian.

This done, and after those things had been somewhat digested by Christiana
and her company, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and has them first
into a room where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a
muck-rake in his hand. 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 a figure of a man of this world: is it not, good sir?

INTERPRETER: Thou hast said right, said he; and his muck-rake doth show his
carnal mind. And whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws
and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than 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 as a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only
things substantial. Now, whereas it was also showed thee that the man could
look no way but downwards, it is to let thee know that earthly things, when
they are with power upon men’s minds, quite carry their hearts away from
God.

CHRISTIANA: Then said Christiana, O deliver me from this muck-rake. Prov.
30:8.

INTERPRETER: That prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till it is
almost rusty: “Give me not riches,” is scarce the prayer of one in ten
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 shown 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, and see if they could find any thing profitable there. Then they
looked round and round; for there was nothing to be seen but a very great
spider on the wall, and that they overlooked.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing; but Christiana held her peace.

INTERPRETER: 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
hands upon the wall. Then said he, Is 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 kings’ palaces.” Prov. 30:28. And wherefore is this
recorded, but to show you, that, how full of the venom of sin soever you be,
yet you may, by the hand of Faith, lay hold of and dwell in the best room
that belongs to the King’s house above?

CHRISTIANA: I thought, said Christiana, of something of this; but I could
not imagine it at all. I thought that we were like spiders, and that we
looked like ugly creatures, in what fine room soever we were: but that by
this spider, that venomous and ill-favored creature, we were to learn how to
act faith, that came not into my thoughts; and yet she had taken hold with
her hands, and, as I see, dwelleth in the best room in the house. 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 into another room, where were a hen and chickens, and bid them
observe a while. So one of the chickens went to the trough to drink, and
every time she drank she lifted up her head and her eyes towards heaven.
See, said he, what this little chick doth, and learn of her to acknowledge
whence your mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Yet again, said
he, observe and look: so they gave heed, and perceived that the hen did walk
in a fourfold method towards her chickens: 1. She had a common call, and
that she hath all the 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 towards his people. By his common call, he gives nothing; by his
special call, he always has something to give; he has also a brooding voice,
for them that are under his wing; and he has an outcry, to give the alarm
when he seeth the enemy come. I choose, my darlings, to lead you into the
room where such things are, because you are women, and they are easy for
you.

CHRISTIANA: And, sir, said Christiana, pray let us see some more. So he had
them into the slaughter-house, where was a butcher killing a sheep; and
behold, the sheep was quiet, and took her death patiently. Then said the
Interpreter, You must learn of this sheep to suffer and to put up with
wrongs without murmurings and complaints. Behold how quietly she takes her
death, and, without objecting, she suffereth her skin to be pulled over her
ears. Your King doth call you his sheep.

After this he led them into his garden, where was great variety of flowers;
and he, said, Do you see all these? So Christiana said, Yes. Then said he
again, Behold, the flowers are diverse in stature, in quality, and color,
and smell, and virtue; and some are better than others; also, where the
gardener has set them, there they stand, and quarrel not one with another.

Again, he had them into his field, which he had sown with wheat and corn:
but when they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, and only the straw
remained. He said again, This ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed,
but what shall we do with the crop? Then said Christiana, Burn some, and
make muck of the rest. Then said the Interpreter again, Fruit, you see, is
that thing you look for; and for want of that you condemn it to the fire,
and to be trodden under foot of men: beware that in this you condemn not
yourselves.

Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a little robin with a
great spider in his mouth. So the Interpreter said, Look here. So they
looked, and Mercy wondered, but Christiana said, What a disparagement is it
to such a pretty little bird as the . robin-red-breast; he being also a bird
above many, that loveth to maintain a kind of sociableness with men! I had
thought they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or upon other such harmless
matter: I like him worse than I did.

The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an emblem, very apt to set forth
some professors by; for to sight they are, as this robin, pretty of note,
color, and carriage. They seem also to have a very great love for professors
that are sincere; and, above all others, to desire to associate with them,
and to be in their company, as if they could live upon the good man’s
crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that they frequent the house
of the godly, and the appointments of the Lord: but when they are by
themselves, as the robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders; they can
change their diet, drink iniquity, and swallow down sin like water.

So, when they were come again into the house, because supper as yet was not
ready, Christiana again desired that the Interpreter would either show or
tell 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
slaughter; 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 find; and it is a
comely thing to be adorned with that which in God’s sight is of great price.
‘T is easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a whole year together:
so ‘t is 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 Saviour is unmerciful to
himself. He that lives in sin, and 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. Whispering, and change of thoughts, prove that sin is in
the world. If the world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing of that
worth with men, what is heaven, 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, affected with the goodness of God? We seldom sit
down to meat, but we eat, and leave. So there is in Jesus Christ more merit
and righteousness than the whole world has need of.

When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out into his garden again, and
had them to a tree whose inside was all rotten and 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
tinder-box.

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 thanks. And the Interpreter
did usually entertain those that lodged with him with music at meals; so the
minstrels played. There was also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he
had. His song was this:


“The Lord is only my support,

And he that doth me feed;

How can I then want any thing

Whereof I stand in need?”

When the song and music were ended, the Interpreter asked Christiana what it
was that at first did move her thus to betake herself to a pilgrim’s life.
Christiana answered, First, the loss of my husband came into my mind, at
which I was heartily grieved; but all that was but natural affection. Then
after that came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into my mind, and
also how like a churl I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold
of my mind, and would have drawn me into the pond, but that opportunely I
had a dream of the well-being of my husband, and a letter sent me by the
King of that country where my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and
the letter together so wrought upon my mind that they forced me to this way.

INTERPRETER: But met you with no opposition before you set out of doors?

CHRISTIANA: 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 befooled me, for, as she called it, my intended desperate adventure;
she also urged what she could to dishearten me from it, the hardships and
troubles that my husband met with in the way; but all this I got over pretty
well. But a dream that I had of two ill-looking ones, that I thought did
plot how to make me miscarry in my journey, that hath troubled me much: yea,
it still runs in my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that I meet, lest
they should meet me to do me a mischief, and to turn me out of my way. Yea,
I may tell my Lord, though I would not have every body know of it, that
between this and the gate by which we got into the way, we were both so
sorely assaulted that we were made to cry out murder; and the two that made
this assault upon us, were like the two that I saw in my dream.

Then said the Interpreter, Thy beginning is good; thy latter end shall
greatly increase. So he addressed himself to Mercy, and said unto her, And
what moved thee to come hither, sweet heart?

MERCY: Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while continued silent.

INTERPRETER: 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.

INTERPRETER: What was it, then, dear heart, that hath prevailed with thee to
do as thou hast done?

MERCY: Why, when our friend here was packing up to be gone from our town, I
and another went accidentally to see her. So we knocked at the door and went
in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked her what
was her meaning. She said she was sent for to go to her husband; and then
she up and told us how she had seen him in a dream, dwelling in a curious
place, among immortals, wearing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and
drinking at his Prince’s table, and singing praises to him for bringing him
thither, etc. Now, methought, while she was telling these things unto us, my
heart burned within me. And I said in my heart, If this be true, I will
leave my father and my mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I
may, go along with Christiana. So I asked her further of the truth of these
things, and if she would let me go with her; for I saw now that there was no
dwelling, but with the danger of ruin, any longer in 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.

INTERPRETER: 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 with a people she knew not heretofore. “The Lord recompense thy
work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whose
wings thou art come to trust.” Ruth 2:11,12.

Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for bed; the women were laid
singly alone, 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 such favor for her.

In the morning they arose with the sun, and prepared themselves for their
departure; but the Interpreter would have them tarry a while; For, said he,
you must orderly go from hence. Then said he to the damsel that first opened
unto them, Take them and have them into the garden to the bath, and there
wash them and make them clean from the soil which they had gathered by
traveling. Then Innocent the damsel took them and led them into the garden,
and brought them to the bath; so she told them that there they must wash and
be clean, for so her Master would have the women to do that called at his
house as they were going on pilgrimage. Then they went in and washed, yea,
they and the boys, and all; and they came out of that bath, not only sweet
and clean, but also much enlivened and strengthened in their joints. So when
they came in, they 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 were washed in
his bath. So the seal was brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they
might be known in the places whither they were yet to go. Now the seal was
the contents and sum of the passover which the children of Israel did eat,
Exod. 13: 8-10, when they came out of the land of Egypt; and the mark was
set between their eyes. This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was
an ornament to their faces. It also added to their gravity, and made their
countenance more like those 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
fetched out white raiment, and laid it down before him; so he commanded them
to put it on: it was fine linen, white and clean. When the women were thus
adorned, they seemed to be a terror one to the other; for that they could
not see that glory each one had in herself, which they could see in each
other. Now therefore they began to esteem each other better than themselves.
For, You are fairer than I am, said one; and, You are more comely than I am,
said another. The children also stood amazed, to see into what fashion they
were brought.
_________________________________________________________________

THE THIRD STAGE

The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, one Great-heart, and
bid him take A sword, and helmet, and shield; 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,


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 dunghill-raker, spider, hen,

The chicken, too, to me

Have taught a lesson: let me then

Conformed to it be.


The butcher, garden, and the field,

The robin and his bait,

Also the rotten tree, doth yield

Me argument of weight,


To move me for to watch and pray,

To strive to be sincere;

To take my cross up day by day,

And serve the Lord with fear.

Now I saw in my dream, that 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, it comes to my mind what was said to
us at the gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed: by
word, that is, by the promise; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained.
What the promise is, of that I know something; but what is it to have pardon
by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great-Heart, I suppose you
know; wherefore, if you please, let us hear your discourse thereof.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained by some one for
another that hath need thereof; not by the person pardoned, but in the way,
saith another, in which I have obtained it. So then, to speak to the
question more at large, the pardon that you, and Mercy, and these boys have
attained, was obtained by another; to wit, by him that let you in at the
gate. And he hath obtained it in this double way; he hath performed
righteousness to cover you, and spilt his blood to wash you in.

CHRISTIANA: But if he parts with his righteousness to us, what will he have
for himself?

MR. GREAT-HEART: He has more righteousness than you have need of, or than he
needeth himself.

CHRISTIANA: Pray make that appear.

MR. GREAT-HEART: With all my heart: but first I must premise, that he of
whom we are now about to speak, is one that has not his fellow: He has two
natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided.
Unto each of these natures a righteousness belongeth, and each righteousness
is essential to that nature; so that one may as easily cause that 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, 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 righteousness of the
manhood, as distinguished from the Godhead; but a righteousness which
standeth in the union of both natures, and may properly be called the
righteousness that is essential to his being prepared of God to the capacity
of the mediatory office, which he was to be entrusted with. If he parts with
his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead; if he parts with his
second righteousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood; if he parts
with his third, he parts with that perfection that capacitates him to the
office of mediation. He has therefore another righteousness, which standeth
in performance, or obedience to a revealed will; and that is what he puts
upon sinners, and that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith,
“As by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of
one shall many be made righteous.” Rom. 5:19.

CHRISTIANA: But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes; for though they are essential to his natures and
office, and cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of them
that the righteousness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The
righteousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience; the
righteousness of his manhood giveth capability to his obedience to justify;
and the righteousness that standeth in the union of these two natures to his
office, giveth authority to that righteousness to do the work for which it
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
righteousness, since Christ Jesus the Lord has made himself under the law,
must be given away; for the law doth not only bind him that is under it, to
do justly, but to use charity. 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 those that have none. And thus, Christiana and
Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed, or
by the work of another man. Your Lord Christ is he that worked, and hath
given away what he wrought for, to the next poor beggar he meets.

But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to God
as a price, as well as something prepared to cover us withal. Sin has
delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law: now from this curse we
must be justified by way of redemption, a price being paid for the harms we
have done; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your
place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions: Thus has he
ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted
and deformed souls with righteousness, Rom. 8:34; for the sake of which, God
passeth by you and will not hurt you when he comes to judge the world. Gal.
3:13.

CHRISTIANA: This is brave! Now I see that there was something to be learned
by our being pardoned by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labor to keep
this in mind: and, my children, do you remember it also. But, sir, was not
this it that made my good Christian’s burden fall from off his shoulder, and
that made him give three leaps for joy?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes, it was the belief of this that cut those strings that
could not be cut by other means; and it was to give him a proof of the
virtue of this, that he was suffered to carry his burden to the cross.

CHRISTIANA: I thought so; for though my heart was lightsome and joyous
before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am
persuaded by what I have felt, though I have felt but little as yet, that if
the most burdened man in the world was here, and did see and believe as I
now do, it would make his heart the more merry and blithe.

MR. GREAT-HEART: There is not only comfort and the ease of a burden brought
to us by the sight and consideration of these, but an endeared affection
begot in us by it: for who can, if he doth but once think that pardon comes
not only by promise but thus, but be affected with the way and means of his
redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him?

CHRISTIANA: True; methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should
bleed for me. Oh, thou loving One: Oh, thou blessed One. Thou deservest to
have me; thou hast bought me. Thou deservest to have me all: thou hast paid
for me ten thousand times more than I am worth. No marvel that this made the
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. Oh, 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 to refuse to become good pilgrims.

MR. GREAT-HEART: You speak now in the warmth of your affections; will it,
think you, be always thus with you? Besides, this is not communicated to
every one, nor to every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were that
stood by, and that saw the blood run from the heart to the ground, and yet
were so far off this, that instead of lamenting, they laughed at him, and,
instead of becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So
that all that you have, my daughters, you have by peculiar impression made
by a divine contemplating upon what I have spoken to you. Remember, that
‘twas told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no meat to her
chickens. This you have therefore by a special grace.

Now I saw in my dream, that they went on until they were come to the place
that Simple, and Sloth, and Presumption, lay and slept in when Christian
went by on pilgrimage: and behold, they were hanged up in irons a little way
off on the other side.

MERCY: Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, what are
these three men; and for what are they hanged there?

MR. GREAT-HEART: These three men were men of very bad qualities; they had no
mind to be pilgrims themselves, and whomsoever they could, they hindered.
They were 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.

MERCY: But could they persuade any to be of their opinion?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes, they turned several out of the way. There was
Slow-pace that they persuaded to do as they. They also prevailed with one
Short-wind, with one No-heart, with one Linger-after-Lust, and with one
Sleepy-head, and with a young woman, her name was Dull, to turn out of the
way and become as they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord,
persuading others that he was a hard 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
best of them meddlesome, troublesome busybodies. Further, they would call
the bread of God husks; the comforts of his children, fancies; the travel
and labor of pilgrims, things to no purpose.

CHRISTIANA: Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they shall never be
bewailed by me: they have but what they deserve; and I think it is well that
they stand so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But
had it not been well if their crimes had been engraven in some plate of iron
or brass, and left here where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to
other bad men?

MR. GREAT-HEART: So it is, as you may well perceive, if you will go a little
to the wall.

MERCY: No, no; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live
forever 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 opposers 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 is dirty with the feet
of some that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst.
Ezek. 34:18,19. Thereat Mercy said, And why so envious, trow? But, said
their guide, it will do, if taken up and put into a vessel that is sweet and
good; for then the dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water come out by
itself more clear. Thus therefore Christiana and her companions were
compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let
it stand till the dirt was gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof.

Next he showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill, where
Formality and Hypocrisy lost themselves. And, said he, these are dangerous
paths. Two were here cast away when Christian came by; and although, as you
see these ways are since stopped up with chains, posts, and a ditch, yet
there are those that will choose to adventure here rather than take the
pains to go up this hill.

CHRISTIANA: “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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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
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 own mouths.” Jer.
44:16,17. Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see that these ways
are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts, and ditch, and chain,
but also by being hedged up: yet they will choose to go there.

CHRISTIANA: They are idle; they love not to take pains; up-hill way is
unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, “The way
of the slothful man is full of thorns.” Prov. 15:19. Yea, they will rather
choose to walk upon a snare than to 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 they got to the top, Christiana began to 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 a pelting heat. Then said Mercy, “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 least, I
was almost beat out of heart; but I thank you for lending me a hand at my
need. And I remember now what my mother hath told me, namely, that the way
to heaven is as a ladder, and the way to hell is as down a hill. But I had
rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death.

Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, “To go down the hill is easy.” But
James said, (for that was his name,) The day is coming when, in my opinion,
when going down the hill will be the hardest of all. ‘Tis a good boy, said
his master; thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled, but the
little boy did blush.

CHRISTIANA: Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit to sweeten your
mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs? for I have here a piece of
pomegranate which Mr. Interpreter put into my hand just when I came out of
his door; he gave me also a piece of an 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 companion. Then she gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the
boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great-Heart, Sir, will you do as we? But he
answered, You are going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall return; much
good may what you have do you: at home I eat the same every day.
_________________________________________________________________

THE FOURTH STAGE

Now when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their
guide said to them, The day wears away; if you think good, let us prepare to
be going. So they got up to go, and the little boys went before; But
Christiana forgot to take her bottle of spirits with her, 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 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, oftentimes their
rejoicing ends in tears, and their sunshine in a cloud: witness the story of
Christian at this place.

When they were come to the place where Mistrust and Timorous met Christian,
to persuade him to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were
a stage, and before it, towards the road, a broad plate with a copy of
verses written thereon, and underneath the reason of raising up that stage
in that place rendered. The verses were,


“Let him that sees this stage, take heed

Unto his heart and tongue;

Lest, if he do not, here he speed

As some have long agone.”

The words underneath the verses were, “This stage was built to punish those
upon, who, through timorousness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go 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?
Sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper. Psa. 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 boys, that went
before, were now glad to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the lions;
so they stepped back, and went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said,
How now, my boys; do you love to go before when no danger doth approach, and
love to come behind so soon as the lions appear?

Now, as they went on, Mr. Great-heart drew his sword, with intent to make a
way for the pilgrims in spite of the lions. Then there appeared one that, it
seems, had taken upon him to back the lions; and he said to the pilgrims’
guide, What is the cause of your coming hither? Now the name of that man was
Grim, or Bloody-man because of his slaying of pilgrims; and he was of the
race of the giants.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said the pilgrims’ guide, These women and children are
going on pilgrimage, and this is the way they must go; and go it they shall,
in spite of thee and the lions.

GRIM: This is not their way, neither shall they go therein. I am come forth
to withstand them, and to that end will back the lions.

Now, to say the truth, by reason of the fierceness of the lions, and of the
grim carriage of him that did back them, this way had of late lain much
unoccupied, and was almost grown over with grass.

CHRISTIANA: Then said Christiana, Though the highways have been unoccupied
heretofore, and though the travellers have been made in times past to walk
through by-paths, it must not be so now I am risen, now I am risen a mother
in Israel. Judges 5:6,7.

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 on him with his sword that he forced him to retreat.

GRIM: Then said he that attempted to back the lions, Will you slay me upon
mine own ground?

MR. GREAT-HEART: It is the King’s highway that we are in, and in this way it
is that thou hast placed the lions; but these women, and these children,
though weak, shall hold on their way in spite of thy lions. And with that he
gave him again a downright blow, and brought him upon his knees. With this
blow also he broke his helmet, and with the next he cut off an arm. Then did
the giant roar so hideously that his voice frightened the women, and yet
they were glad to see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were
chained, and so of themselves could do nothing. 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 trembled as they passed by them; the
boys also looked as if they would die; but they all got by without further
hurt.

Now, when they were within sight of the Porter’s lodge, they soon came up
unto it; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it
is dangerous traveling there in the night. So when they were come to the
gate, the guide knocked, and the Porter cried, Who is there? But as soon as
the guide had said, It is I, he knew his voice, 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 at night? I have
brought, said he, some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord’s commandment,
they must lodge: I had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by
the giant that did use to back the lions. But I, after a long and tedious
combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in
safety.

THE PORTER: Will you not go in, and stay till morning?

MR. GREAT-HEART: No, I will return to my Lord to-night.

CHRISTIANA: O, sir, I know not how to be willing you should leave us in our
pilgrimage: you have been so faithful and loving to us, you have fought so
stoutly for us, you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that I shall
never forget your favor towards us.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, O that we might have thy company to our journey’s
end! How can such poor women as we hold out in a way so full of troubles as
this way is, without a friend and defender?

JAMES: Then said James, the youngest of the boys, Pray, sir, be persuaded to
go with us, and help us, because we are so weak, and the way so dangerous as
it is.

MR. GREAT-HEART: I am at my Lord’s commandment; if he shall allot me to be
your guide quite through, I will willingly wait upon you. But here you
failed at first; for when he bid me come thus far with you, then you should
have begged me of him to have gone 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 came from the city of Destruction. I am a widow
woman, and my husband is dead, his name was Christian, the pilgrim. How!
said the Porter, was he your husband? Yes, said she, and these are his
children and this, pointing to Mercy, is one of my town’s-women. Then the
Porter rang his bell, as at such times he is wont, and there come 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 there within when the damsel did but
drop that out of her mouth!

So they came with haste to the Porter, for Christana stood still at the
door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, Come in, Christiana, come
in, thou wife of that good man; come in, thou blessed woman, come in, with
all that are with thee. So she went in, and they followed her that were her
children and companions. Now when they were gone in, they were had into a
large room, where they were bidden to sit down: so they sat down, and the
chief of the house were called to see and welcome the guests. Then they came
in, and understanding who they were, did salute each other with a kiss, and
said, Welcome, ye vessels of the grace of 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
terrible lions, they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest.
Nay, said those of the family, refresh yourselves first with a morsel of
meat; for they had prepared for them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce
belonging thereto, Exod. 12:21; John 1:29; for the Porter had heard before
of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped,
and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest.

But let us, said Christiana, if we may be so bold as to choose, be in that
chamber that was my husband’s when he was here; so they had them up thither,
and they all lay in a room. When they were at rest, Christiana and Mercy
entered into discourse about things that were convenient.

CHRISTIANA: Little did I think once, when my husband went on pilgrimage,
that I should ever have followed him.

MERCY: And you as little thought of lying in his bed, and in his chamber to
rest, as you do now.

CHRISTIANA: And much less did I ever think of seeing his face with comfort,
and of worshiping the Lord the King with him; and yet now I believe I shall.

MERCY: Hark, don’t you hear a noise?

CHRISTIANA: Yes, it is, as I believe, a noise of music, for joy that we are
here.

MERCY: Wonderful! Music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in
heaven, for joy that we are here! Thus they talked a while, and then betook
themselves to sleep.

So in the morning when they were awake, Christiana said to Mercy, What was
the matter that you did laugh in your sleep to-night? I suppose you were in
a dream.

MERCY: So I was, and a sweet dream it was; but are you sure I laughed?

CHRISTIANA: Yes, you laughed heartily; but prithee, Mercy, tell me thy
dream.

MERCY: I was a dreaming that I sat all alone in a solitary place, and was
bemoaning of the hardness of my heart. Now I had not sat there long but
methought many were gathered about 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, methought I looked up and saw one
coming with wings towards me. So he came directly to me, and said, Mercy,
what aileth thee? Now when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, Peace
be to thee; he also wiped 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 mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head. Then he took me by the
hand, and said, Mercy, come after me. So he went up, and I followed till we
came at a golden gate. Then he knocked; and when they within had opened, the
man went in, and I followed him up to a throne, upon which one sat; and he
said to me, Welcome, daughter. The place looked bright and twinkling, like
the stars, or rather like the sun, and I thought that I saw your husband
there; so I awoke from my dream. But did I laugh?

CHRISTIANA: Laugh! aye, and well you might to see yourself so well. For you
must give me leave to tell you that it was a good dream; and that, as you
have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at
last. “God speaks once, yea, twice, yet man perceiveth it not; in a dream,
in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumberings
upon the bed.” Job 33:14,15. We need not, when abed, 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, by signs and similitudes, as well as if one
was awake.

MERCY: Well, I am glad of my dream; for I hope ere long to see it fulfilled,
to the making me laugh again.

CHRISTIANA: I think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must
do.

MERCY: 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.

CHRISTIANA: We shall see what they will do.

So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another
of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not.

MERCY: Very good, said Mercy: it was one of the best night’s lodgings that
ever I had in my life.

Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be persuaded to stay here a while,
you shall have what the house will afford.

CHARITY: Aye, and that with a very good will, said Charity. So they
consented, and stayed there about a month or above, and became very
profitable one to another. And because Prudence would see how Christiana had
brought up her children, she asked leave of her to catechise them. So she
gave her free consent. Then she began with her youngest, whose name was
James.

PRUDENCE: And she said, Come, James, canst thou tell me who made thee?

JAMES: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

PRUDENCE: Good boy. And canst thou tell who saved thee?

JAMES: God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost.

PRUDENCE: Good boy still. But how doth God the Father save thee?

JAMES: By his grace.

PRUDENCE: How doth God the Son save thee?

JAMES: By his righteousness, death and blood, and life.

PRUDENCE: And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee?

JAMES: By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his preservation.

Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be commended for thus bringing
up your children. I suppose I need not ask the rest these questions, since
the youngest of them can answer them so well. I will therefore now apply
myself to the next youngest.

PRUDENCE: Then she said, Come, Joseph, (for his name was Joseph,) will you
let me catechise you?

JOSEPH: With all my heart.

PRUDENCE: What is man?

JOSEPH: A reasonable creature, so made by God, as my brother said.

PRUDENCE: What is supposed by this word, saved?

JOSEPH: That man, by sin, has brought himself into a state of captivity and
misery.

PRUDENCE: 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.

PRUDENCE: What is God’s design in saving poor men?

JOSEPH: The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and justice, etc., and the
everlasting happiness of his creature.

PRUDENCE: Who are they that will be saved?

JOSEPH: They that accept of his salvation.

PRUDENCE: Good boy, Joseph; thy mother hath taught thee well, and thou hast
hearkened unto what she has said unto thee.

Then said Prudence to Samuel, who was the eldest but one,

PRUDENCE: Come, Samuel, are you willing that I should catechise you?

SAMUEL: Yes, forsooth, if you please.

PRUDENCE: What is heaven?

SAMUEL: A place and state most blessed, because God dwelleth there.

PRUDENCE: What is hell?

SAMUEL: A place and state most woful, because it is the dwelling-place of
sin, the devil, and death.

PRUDENCE: Why wouldst thou go to heaven?

SAMUEL: 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.

PRUDENCE: A very good boy, and one that has learned well.

Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose name was Matthew; and she
said to him, Come, Matthew, shall I also catechise you?

MATTHEW: With a very good will.

PRUDENCE: I ask then, if there was ever any thing that had a being
antecedent to or before God?

MATTHEW: No, for God is eternal; nor is there any thing, excepting himself,
that had a being until the beginning of the first day. For in six days the
Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is.

PRUDENCE: What do you think of the Bible?

MATTHEW: It is the holy word of God.

PRUDENCE: Is there nothing written therein but what you understand?

MATTHEW: Yes, a great deal.

PRUDENCE: What do you do when you meet with places therein that you do not
understand?

MATTHEW: 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.

PRUDENCE: How believe you as touching the resurrection of the dead?

MATTHEW: 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 God has promised it; secondly, because he is able to perform
it.

Then said Prudence to the boys, You must still hearken to your mother; for
she can teach you more. You must also diligently give ear to what good talk
you shall hear from others: for your sakes do they speak good things.
Observe also, and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth do
teach you; but especially be much in the meditation of that book 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 pilgrim’s had been at this place a week, Mercy had a
visitor that pretended some good-will unto her, and his name was Mr. Brisk;
a man of some breeding, and that pretended to religion, but a man that stuck
very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and
offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore
the more alluring.

Her mind also was to be always busying of herself in doing; 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 disposed of what she made, seemed to be greatly taken, for
that he found her never idle. I will warrant her a good housewife, quoth he
to himself.

Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and
inquired of them concerning him, for they did know him better than she. So
they told her that he was a very busy young man, and one who pretended to
religion, but was, as they feared, a stranger to the power of that which is
good.

Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him; for I purpose never to
have a clog to my soul.

Prudence then replied, that there needed no matter of great discouragement
to be given to him; her continuing so as she had begun to do for the poor,
would quickly cool his courage.

So the next time he comes he finds her at her old work, making things for
the poor. Then said he, What, always at it? Yes, said she, either for myself
or for others. And what canst thou earn a day? said he. I do these things,
said she, that I may be rich in good works, laying up in store for myself a
good foundation against the time to come, that I may lay hold on eternal
life. 1 Tim. 6:17-19. Why, prithee, what doest thou with them? said he.
Clothe the naked, said she. With that his countenance fell. So he forbore to
come at her again. And when he was asked the reason why, he said, that Mercy
was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill conditions.

When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee that Mr. Brisk
would soon forsake thee? yea, he will rise up an ill report of thee; for,
notwithstanding his pretence to religion, and his seeming love to Mercy, yet
Mercy and he are of tempers so different that I believe they will never come
together.

MERCY: 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.

PRUDENCE: Mercy in our days is but little set by any further than as to its
name: the practice which is set forth by thy conditions, there are but few
that can abide.

MERCY: Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will die unmarried, or my
conditions shall be to me as a husband: for I cannot change my nature; and
to have one who lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of
as long as I live. I had a sister named Bountiful, that was married to one
of these churls, but he and she could never agree; but because my sister was
resolved to do as she had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor,
therefore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her
out of his doors.

PRUDENCE: And yet he was a professor, I warrant you?

MERCY: Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as he the world is now full:
but I am for none of them all.

Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and his sickness was
sore upon him, for he was much pained in his bowels, so that he was with it
at times pulled, as it were, both ends together. There dwelt also not far
from thence one Mr. Skill, an ancient and well-approved physician. So
Christiana desired it, and entered the room, and had a little observed the
boy, he concluded that he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his
mother, What diet has Matthew of late fed upon? Diet! said Christiana,
nothing but what is wholesome. The physician answered, This boy has been
tampering with something that lies in his stomach undigested, and that will
not away without means. And I tell you he must be purged, or else he will
die.

SAMUEL: Then said Samuel, Mother, what was that which my brother did gather
up and eat as soon as we were come from the gate that is at the head of this
way? You know that 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.

CHRISTIANA: 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.

MR. SKILL: I knew he had eaten something that was not wholesome food; and
that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is the
fruit of Beelzebub’s orchard. I do marvel that none did warn you of it; many
have died thereof.

CHRISTIANA: Then Christiana began to cry; and she said, Oh, naughty boy! and
Oh, careless mother! what shall I do for my son?

MR. SKILL: Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may do well again, but
he must purge and vomit.

CHRISTIANA: Pray, sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it
costs.

MR. 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: 1-4. When Mr.
Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, he made one to the purpose. It
was made ex carne et sanguine Christi, [7] John 6:54-57; Heb. 9:14; (you
know physicians give strange medicines to their patients:) and it was made
into pills, with a promise or two, and a proportionable quantity of salt.
Mark 9:49. Now, he was to take them three at a time, fasting, in half a
quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. Zech. 12:10.

When this potion was prepared, and brought to the boy, he was loth to take
it, though torn with the gripes as if he should be pulled in pieces. Come,
come, said the physician, you must take it. It goes against my stomach, said
the boy. I must have you take it, said his mother. I shall vomit it up
again, said the boy. Pray, sir, said Christiana to Mr. Skill, how does it
taste? It has no ill taste, said the doctor; and with that she touched one
of the pills with the tip of her tongue. Oh, Matthew, 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 to rest quietly; it put him into a fine heat and breathing sweat,
and did quite rid him of his gripes. So in a little time he got up, and
walked about with a staff, and would go from room to room, and talk 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.

CHRISTIANA: But, sir, said she, what is this pill good for else?

MR. SKILL: It is a universal pill; it is good against all the diseases that
pilgrims are incident to; and when it is well prepared, it will keep good,
time out of mind.

CHRISTIANA: Pray, sir, make me up twelve boxes of them; for if I can get
these, I will never take other physic.

MR. 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 as he should, it will make him live for ever. John 6:51. But,
good Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way but as I have
prescribed; for if you do, they will do no good. So he gave unto Christiana
physic for herself, and her boys, and for Mercy; and bid Matthew take heed
how he ate any more green plums; and kissed them, and went his way.

It was told you before, that Prudence bid the boys, that if at any time they
would, they should ask her some questions that might be profitable and she
would say something to them.

MATTHEW: Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, why for the most part
physic should be bitter to our palates.

PRUDENCE: To show how unwelcome the word of God and the effects thereof are
to a carnal heart.

MATTHEW: Why does physic, if it does good, purge, and cause to vomit?

PRUDENCE: To show that the word, when it works effectually, cleanseth the
heart and mind. For look, what the one doth to the body, the other doth to
the soul.

MATTHEW: What should we learn by seeing the flame of our fire go upwards,
and by seeing the beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards?

PRUDENCE: By the going up of the fire, we are taught to ascend to heaven by
fervent and hot desires. And by the sun sending his heat, beams, and sweet
influences downwards, we are taught the Saviour of the world, though high,
reaches down with his grace and love to us below.

MATTHEW: Whence have the clouds their water?

PRUDENCE: Out of the sea.

MATTHEW: What may we learn from that?

PRUDENCE: That ministers should fetch their doctrine from God.

MATTHEW: Why do they empty themselves upon the earth?

PRUDENCE: To show that ministers should give out what they know of God to
the world.

MATTHEW: Why is the rainbow caused by the sun?

PRUDENCE: To show that the covenant of God’s grace is confirmed to us in
Christ.

MATTHEW: Why do the springs come from the sea to us through the earth?

PRUDENCE: To show that the grace of God comes to us through the body of
Christ.

MATTHEW: Why do some of the springs rise out of the tops of high hills?

PRUDENCE: 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.

MATTHEW: Why doth the fire fasten upon the candle-wick?

PRUDENCE: To show that unless grace doth kindle upon the heart, there will
be no true light of life in us.

MATTHEW: Why are the wick, and tallow and all, spent to maintain the light
of the candle?

PRUDENCE: 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.

MATTHEW: Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast with her bill?

PRUDENCE: To nourish her young ones with her blood, and thereby to show that
Christ the blessed so loved his young, (his people,) as to save them from
death by his blood.

MATTHEW: What may one learn by hearing the cock to crow?

PRUDENCE: 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; wherefore they signified to those
of the house, that it was 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 sent
unto us, that he may be our conductor for the rest of the way. Good boy,
said she, I had almost forgot. So she drew up a petition, 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 called the whole house together, to give thanks to their King
for sending of them such profitable guests as these. Which done, they said
unto Christiana, And shall we not show thee 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 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 wondered. Gen. 3:6; Rom. 7:24.

Then they had her to a place, and showed her Jacob’s ladder. Gen. 28:12. Now
at that time 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 something else; but James
said to his mother, Pray, bid them stay here a little longer, for this is a
curious sight. So they turned again, and stood feeding their eyes with this
so pleasant a prospect.

After this, they had them into a place where did hang up a golden anchor. So
they bid Christiana take it down; for said they, You shall have it with you,
for it is of absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of
that within the veil, Heb. 6:19, and stand stedfast 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 upon which Abraham our father
offered up Isaac his son, and showed them the 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 themselves, and said, Oh,
what a man for love to his Master, and for denial to himself, was Abraham!

After they had showed them all these things, Prudence took them into a
dining room, where stood a pair of excellent virginals; [8] so she played
upon them, and turned what she had showed them into this excellent song,
saying,


“Eve’s apple we have showed you;

Of that be you aware:

You have seen Jacob’s ladder too,

Upon which angels are.

An anchor you received have;

But let not these suffice,

Until with Abra’m you have gave

Your best, a sacrifice.”

Now, about this time, one knocked at the door; so the Porter opened, and
behold, Mr. Great-Heart was there. But when he was come in, what joy was
there! for it came now afresh again into their minds, how but a while ago he
had slain old Grim Bloody-man the giant, and had delivered them from the
lions.

Then said Mr. Great-Heart to Christiana and to Mercy, My Lord has sent each
of you a bottle of wine, and also some parched corn, together with a couple
of pomegranates; he has also sent the boys some figs and raisins; to refresh
you in your way.

Then they addressed themselves to their journey, and Prudence and Piety went
along with them. When they came to the gate, Christiana asked the Porter if
any of late went by. He said, No; only one, some time since, who also told
me, that of late there had been a great robbery committed on the King’s
highway as you go. But, said he, the thieves are taken, and will shortly be
tried for their lives. Then Christiana and Mercy were afraid; but Matthew
said, Mother, fear nothing, as long as Mr. Great-Heart is to go with us, and
to be our conductor.

Then said Christiana to the Porter, Sir, I am much obliged to you for all
the kindnesses that you have showed to me since I came hither; and also for
that you have been so loving and kind to my children. I know not how to
gratify your kindness; wherefore, pray, as a token of my respect to you,
accept of this small mite. So she put a gold angel [9] in his hand; and he
made her a low obeisance, and said, “Let thy garments be always white; and
let thy head want no ointment.” 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 godliness with them that are grave and
wise, 2 Tim. 2:22: so shall you put gladness into your mother’s heart, and
obtain praise of all that are sober-minded. So they thanked the Porter, and
departed.
_________________________________________________________________

[7] Of the flesh and blood of Christ.

[8] A musical instrument.

[9] A gold angel was a coin of the value of ten shillings sterling and
according to the comparative value of money in Bunyan’s time, equal at least
to a guinea at the present time.
_________________________________________________________________

THE FIFTH STAGE

Now I saw in my dream, that they went forward until they were come to the
brow of the Hill; where Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas, I have
forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her companions: I will
go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone,
Christiana thought she heard, in a grove a little way off on the right hand,
a most curious melodious note, with words much like these:


“Through all my life thy favor is

So frankly showed to me,

That in thy House for evermore

My dwelling-place shall be.”

And listening still, she thought she heard another answer it, saying,


“For why? The Lord our God is good;

His mercy is forever sure;

His truth at all times firmly stood,

And shall from age to age endure.”

So Christiana asked Prudence who it was that made those curious notes. Song
2:11,12. They are, answered she, our country birds: they sing these notes
but seldom, except it be at the spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun
shines warm, and then you may hear them all day long. I often, said she, go
out to hear them; we also oft-times keep them tame in our house. They are
very fine company for us when we are melancholy: also they make the woods,
and groves, and solitary places, places desirable to be in.

By this time Piety was come again. So she said to Christiana, Look here, I
have brought thee a scheme of all those things that thou hast seen at our
house, upon which thou 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 down pretty well. When they were down in the valley, Piety said to
Christiana, This is the place where Christian your husband met, with the
foul fiend Apollyon, and where they had that dreadful fight that they had: I
know you cannot but have heard thereof. But be of good courage; as long as
you have here Mr. Great-Heart to be your guide and conductor, we hope you
will fare the better. So when these two had committed the pilgrims unto the
conduct of their guide, he went forward, and they went after.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said Mr. Great-Heart, We need not be so afraid of this
valley, for here is nothing to hurt us, unless we procure it to ourselves.
It is true, Christian did here meet with Apollyon, with whom he had also a
sore combat: but that fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in his
going down the hill: for they that get slips there, must look for combats
here. And hence it is, that this valley has got so hard a name. For the
common people, when they hear that some frightful thing has befallen such an
one in such a place, are of opinion that that place is haunted with some
foul fiend, or evil spirit; when, alas! it is for the fruit of their doing,
that such things do befal them there. This Valley of Humiliation is of
itself as fruitful a place as any the crow flies over; and I am persuaded,
if we could hit upon it, we might find somewhere hereabouts something that
might give us an account why Christian was so hardly beset in this place.

Then said James to his mother, Lo, yonder stands a pillar, and it looks as
if something was written thereon; let us go and see what it is. So they went
and found there written, “Let Christian’s slips, before he came hither, and
the battles that he met with in this place, be a warning to those that come
after.” Lo, said their guide, did not I tell you that there was something
hereabouts that would give intimation of the reason why Christian was so
hard beset in this place? Then turning to Christiana, he said, No
disparagement to Christian more than to any others whose hap and lot it was.
For it is easier going up than down this hill, and that can be said but of
few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good man;
he is at rest: he also had a brave victory over his enemy. Let Him grant,
that dwelleth above, that we fare no worse, when we come be tried, than he.

But we will come again to this Valley of Humiliation. It is the best and
most fruitful piece of ground in all those parts. It is fat ground, and as
you see, consisteth much in meadows; and if a man was to come here in the
summer-time, as we do now, if he knew not any thing before thereof, and if
he also delighted himself in the sight of his eyes, he might see that which
would be delightful to him. Behold how green this valley is; also how
beautified with lillies. Song 2:1. I have 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 4:6; 1 Pet. 5:5. Indeed it is a very
fruitful soil, and doth bring forth by handfuls. Some also have wished that
the next way to their Father’s house were here, that they might be troubled
no more with either hills or mountains to go over; but the way is the way,
and there is an end.

Now, as they were going along, and talking, they espied a boy feeding his
father’s sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a very fresh and
well-favored countenance; and as he sat by himself, he sung. Hark, said Mr.
Great-Heart, to what the shepherd’s boy saith. So they hearkened and he
said,


“He that is down, needs fear no fall;

He that is low, no pride:

He that is humble, ever shall

Have God to be his guide.


I am content with what I have,

Little be it or much;

And, Lord, contentment still I crave,

Because thou savest such.


Fulness to such, a burden is,

That go on pilgrimage;

Here little, and hereafter bliss,

Is best from Age to Age.”

Then said the guide, Do you hear him? I will dare to say, that 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-house: he loved much to be
here. He loved also to walk these meadows, for he found the air was
pleasant. Besides, 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 Humiliation is that empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not
be so let and hindered in his contemplation as in other places he is apt to
be. This is a valley that nobody walks in but those that love a pilgrim’s
life. And though Christian had the hard hap to meet here with Apollyon, and
to enter with him in a brisk 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. 8:36.

Did I say our Lord had here in former days his country-house, and that he
loved here to walk? I will add-in this place, and to the people that love
and trace these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid
them at certain seasons, for their maintenance by the way, and for their
further encouragement to go on in their pilgrimage.

SAMUEL: Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great-Heart, Sir, I
perceive that in this valley my father and Apollyon had their battle; but
whereabout was the fight? for I perceive this valley is large.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Your father had the battle with Apollyon at a place yonder
before us, in a narrow 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 favours they have
received, and how unworthy they are of them. This is the place also where
others have been hard put to it. But more of the place when we are come to
it; for I 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.

MERCY: Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this valley as I have been
anywhere else in all our journey: the place, methinks, suits with my spirit.
I love to be in such places, where there is no rattling with coaches, nor
rumbling with wheels. Methinks, here one may, without much molestation, be
thinking what he is, whence he came, what he has done, and to what the King
has called him. Here one may think, and break at heart, and melt in one’s
spirit, until one’s eyes become as the fish-pools in Heshbon. Song 7:4. They
that go rightly through this valley of Baca, make it a well; the rain that
God sends down from heaven upon them that are here, also 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. Psa. 84:5-7; Hos. 2:15.

MR. GREAT-HEART: ‘Tis true, said their guide; I have gone through this
valley many a time, and never was better than when here. I have also been a
conduct to several pilgrims, and they have confessed the same. “To this man
will I look,” saith the King, “even to him that is poor, and of a contrite
spirit, and trembleth at my word.” Isa. 66:2.

Now they were come to the place where the aforementioned battle was fought:
Then said the guide to Christiana, her children, and Mercy, This is the
place; on this ground Christian stood, and up there came Apollyon against
him; and look. And, look, did I not 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 Apollyon’s
broken darts. See, also, how they did beat the ground with their feet as
they fought, to make good their places against each other; how also with
their by-blows they did split the very stones in pieces. Verily, Christian
did here play the man, and showed himself as stout as Hercules could, had he
been there, 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
engraven this battle, and Christian’s victory, to his fame, throughout all
ages: So because it stood just on the way-side before them, they stepped to
it, and read the writing, which word for word was this:


“Hard by here was a battle fought,

Most strange, and yet most true;

Christian and Apollyon fought

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 entering upon this valley, they thought they heard a
groaning, as of dying men; a very great groaning. They thought also that
they did hear words of lamentation, 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.

So they went on a little further, and they thought that they felt the ground
begin to shake under them, as if some hollow place was there: they heard
also a kind of hissing, as of serpents, but nothing as yet appeared. Then
said the boys, Are we not yet at the end of this doleful place? But the
guide also bid them be of good courage, and look well to their feet; lest
haply, said he, you be taken in some snare.

Now James began to be sick; but I think the cause thereof was fear: so his
mother gave him some of that glass of spirits that had been given her at the
Interpreter’s house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepared, and
the boy began to revive. Thus they went on till they came to about the
middle of the valley; and then Christiana said, Methinks I see something
yonder upon the road before us, a thing of a shape such as I have not seen.
Then said Joseph, Mother, what is it? An ugly thing, child; an ugly thing,
said she. But, mother, what is it like? said he. ‘Tis like I cannot tell
what, said she; and now it is but a little way off. Then said she, It is
nigh.

Well, said Mr. Great-Heart, let them that are most afraid keep close to me.
So the fiend came on, and the conductor met it; but when it was 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 behind her, saw, as she thought, something most
like a lion, and it came at a great padding pace after: and it had a hollow
voice of roaring; and at every roar it gave, it made the valley echo, and
all their hearts to ache, save the heart of him that was their guide. So it
came up and Mr. Great-Heart went behind, and put the pilgrims all before
him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-Heart addressed himself to
give him battle. 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 way; and
before they could be prepared to go over that, a great mist and a darkness
fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then said the pilgrims, Alas!
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 rushing of the enemies; the fire also and the smoke
of the pit were much easier to be discerned. Then said Christiana to Mercy,
Now I see what my poor husband went through. I have heard much of this
place, but I never was here before now. Poor man! he went here all alone in
the night; he had night almost quite through the way: also these fiends were
busy about him, as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoken
of it; but none can tell what the Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean
until they come in themselves. The heart knoweth its own bitterness; and a
stranger intermeddleth not with its joy. Prov. 14:10. To be here is a
fearful thing.

MR. GREAT-HEART: This is like doing business in great waters, or like going
down into the deep. This is like being in the heart of the sea, and like
going down to the bottoms of the mountains. Now it seems as if the earth,
with its bars, were about us for ever. But let them that walk in darkness,
and have no light, trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon their God.
Isa. 50:10. For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often
through this valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am: and
yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that I am not mine own
saviour; but I trust we shall have a good deliverance. Come, let us pray for
light to Him that can lighten our darkness, and that can rebuke not only
these, but all the Satans in hell.

So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliverance, for there was
now no let 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, always; and for aught I know, one reason why we must go this
way to the house prepared for us is, that our home might be the sweeter to
us.

Well said, Samuel, quoth the guide; thou hast now spoke like a man. Why, if
ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and
good way better than I ever did in all my life. Then said the guide, We
shall be out by and by.

So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the end of this valley as
yet? 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, That is one Heedless, that was going
this way: he has lain there a great while. There was one Take-Heed with him
when he was taken and slain, but he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine
how many are killed hereabouts, and yet men are so foolishly venturous as to
set out lightly on pilgrimage, and to come without a guide. Poor Christian!
it was a wonder that he here escaped; but he was beloved of his God: also he
had a good heart of his own, or else he could never have done it.

Now they drew towards the end of this way; and just there where Christian
had seen the cave when he went by, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This
Maul did use to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry; and he called
Great-Heart by his name, and said unto him, How many times have you been
forbidden to do these things? Then said Mr. Great-Heart, What things? What
things! quoth the giant; you know what things: but I will put an end to your
trade.

But, pray, said Mr. Great-Heart, before we fall to it, let us understand
wherefore we must fight. Now the women and children stood trembling, and
knew not what to do. Quoth the giant, You rob the country, and rob it with
the worst of thefts. These are but generals, said Mr. Great-Heart; come to
particulars, man.

Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a kidnapper; thou
gatherest up women and 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 endeavors to turn men, women, and
children, from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; and
if this be indeed the ground of thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon as
thou wilt.

Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-Heart went to meet him; and as he went
he drew his sword, but the giant had a club. So without more ado they fell
to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great-Heart down upon one
of his knees. With that the women and 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 an hour, to that height
of heat that the breath came out of the giant’s nostrils as the heat doth
out of a boiling cauldron.

Then they sat down to rest them; but Mr. Great-Heart betook himself to
prayer. Also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the
time that the battle did last.

When they had rested them, and taken breath, they both fell to it again; and
Mr. Great-Heart, with a blow, fetched the giant down to the ground. Nay,
hold, let me recover, quoth he: so Mr. Great-Heart fairly let him get up. So
to it they went again, and the giant missed but little of all to breaking
Mr. Great-Heart’s scull with his club.

Mr. Great-Heart seeing that, runs to him in the full heat of his spirit, and
pierceth him under the fifth rib. With that the giant began to faint, and
could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great-Heart seconded his blow,
and smit the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then the women and
children 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 in letters that passengers might read,


“He that did wear this head was one

That pilgrims did misuse;

He stopped their way, he spared none,

But did them all abuse;

Until that I Great-Heart arose,

The pilgrims guide to be;

Until that I did him oppose

That was their enemy.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE SIXTH STAGE

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. Great-Heart, No, save a little on my flesh; yet that also
shall be so far from being to my detriment, that it is at present a proof of
my love to my master and you, and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my
reward at last.

CHRISTIANA: But were you not afraid, good sir, when you saw him come with
his club?

MR. GREAT-HEART: It is my duty, said he, to mistrust my own ability, that I
may have reliance on Him who is stronger than all.

CHRISTIANA: But what did you think when he fetched you down to the ground at
the first blow?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Why, I thought, quoth 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.

MATTHEW: When you all have thought what you please, I think God has been
wonderfully good unto us, both in bringing us out of this valley, and in
delivering us out of the hand of this enemy. For my part, I see no reason
why we should distrust our God any more, since he has now, and in such a
place as this, given us such testimony of his love. Then they got up, and
went forward.

Now a little before them stood an oak; and under it, when they came to it,
they found an old pilgrim fast asleep. They knew that he was a pilgrim by
his clothes, and his staff, and his girdle.

So the guide, Mr. Great-Heart, awaked him; and the old gentleman, as he
lifted up his eyes, cried out, What’s the matter? Who are you; and what is
your business here?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Come, man, be not so hot; here are none but friends. Yet
the old man gets up, and stands upon his guard, and will know of them what
they are. Then said the guide, My name is Great-Heart: I am the guide of
these pilgrims that are going to the Celestial country.

MR. HONEST: Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy: I feared that you had
been of the company of those that some time ago did rob Little-Faith of his
money; but, now I look better about me, I perceive you are honester people.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Why, what would or could you have done to have helped
yourself, if indeed we had been of that company?

MR. HONEST: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide; for by this I
know thou art a cock of the right kind, for thou hast said the truth.

MR. HONEST: And by this also I know that thou knowest what true pilgrimage
is; for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of any.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Well, now we are so happily met, pray let me crave your
name, and the name of the place you came from.

MR. HONEST: My name I cannot tell you, but I came from the town of
Stupidity: it lieth about four degrees beyond the city of Destruction.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Oh, Are you that countryman? Then I deem I have half a
guess of you: your name is Old Honesty, is it not?

MR. HONEST: 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?

MR. GREAT-HEART: I had heard of you before, by my Master; for he knows all
things that are done on the earth. But I have often wondered that any should
come from your place; for your town is worse than is the city of Destruction
itself.

MR. HONEST: Yes, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and
senseless. But were a man in a mountain of ice, yet if the Sun of
righteousness will arise upon him, his frozen heart shall feel a thaw; and
thus it has been with me.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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.

CHRISTIANA: 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,

MR. HONEST: I have heard much of your husband, and of his travels and wars
which he underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of
your husband rings all over these parts of the world: his faith, his
courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, had made his name
famous. Then he turned him to the boys, and asked them of their names, which
they told him. Then said he unto them, Matthew, be thou like Matthew the
publican, not in vice, but in virtue. Matt. 10:3. Samuel, said he, be thou
like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Psa. 99:6. Joseph, said
he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar’s house, chaste, and one that flees from
temptation. Gen. 39. And James, be thou like James the just, and like James
the brother of our Lord. Acts 1:13. Then they told him of Mercy, and how she
had left her town and her kindred to come along with Christiana and with her
sons. At that the old honest man said, Mercy is thy name: 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 with comfort. All this while the guide,
Mr. Great-Heart, was very well pleased, and smiled upon his companions.

Now, as they walked along together, the guide asked the old gentleman if he
did not know one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage out of his parts.

MR. HONEST: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: I perceive you knew him, for you have given a very right
character of him.

MR. HONEST: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: I was his guide from my Master’s house to the gates of the
Celestial City.

MR. HONEST: Then you knew him to be a troublesome one.

MR. GREAT-HEART: I did so; but I could very well bear it; for men of my
calling are oftentimes intrusted with the conduct of such as he was.

MR. HONEST: Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed
himself under your conduct.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Why, he was always afraid that he should come short of
whither he had a desire to go. Every thing frightened him that he heard any
body speak of, if it had but the least appearance of opposition in it. I
heard that he lay roaring at the Slough of Despond for above a month
together; nor durst he, for all he saw several go over before him, venture,
though they many of them offered to lend him their hands. He would not go
back again, neither. The 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 sunshiny morning, I do not
know how, he ventured, and so got over; but when he was over, he would
scarce believe it. He had, I think, a Slough of 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 stood a good while before he
would 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, all he got before
some to the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man
would stand shaking and shrinking; I dare say it would have pitied one’s
heart to have seen him. Nor would he go back again. At last he took the
hammer that hanged on the gate, in his hand, and gave a small rap or two;
then one opened to him, but he shrunk back as before. He that opened 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 a while, 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 out to our house; but as he behaved himself at the gate, so he did
at my Master the Interpreter’s door. He lay there about in the cold a good
while, before he would adventure to call; yet he would not go back: and the
nights were long and cold then. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom
to my master to receive him, and grant him the comfort of his house, and
also to allow him a stout and valiant 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 perceiving a man to be up and down about the door, I
went out to him, and asked what he was: but, poor man, the water stood in
his eyes; so I perceived what he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in
the house, and we 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; and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it wonderful lovingly
to him. There were but a few good bits at the table, but some of it was laid
upon his trencher. Then he presented the note; and my Lord looked thereon,
and said his desire should be granted. So when he had been there a good
while, he seemed to get some heart, and to be a little more comfortable. For
my Master, you must know, is one of very tender bowels, especially to them
that are afraid; wherefore he carried it so towards him as might tend most
to his encouragement. Well, when he had had a sight of the things of the
place, and was ready to take his journey to go to the city, my Lord, as he
did to Christian before, gave him a bottle of spirits, and some comfortable
things to eat. Thus we set forward, and I went before him; but the man was
but of few words, only he would sigh aloud.

When we were come to where the three fellows were hanged, he said that he
doubted that that would be his end also. Only he seemed glad when he saw the
cross and the sepulchre. There I confess 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 troubles were not about such things as
these; his fear was about his acceptance at last.

I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think, before he was willing. Also,
when he was in, I brought him acquainted with the damsels of the place; but
he was ashamed to make himself much in company. He desired much to be alone;
yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear
it. He also loved much to see 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, he went down as well as ever I saw a man in my life; for he
cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think there
was a kind of sympathy betwixt that Valley and him; for I never saw him
better in all his pilgrimage 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 Valley of the Shadow of Death, I
thought I should have lost my man: not for that he had any inclination to go
back; that he always abhorred; but he was ready to die for fear. Oh, the
hobgoblins will have me! the hobgoblins will have me! cried he; and I could
not beat him out of it. He made such a noise, and such an outcry here, that
had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall
upon us.

But this I took very great notice of, that this valley was as quiet when we
went through it, as ever I knew it before or since. I suppose those enemies
here had now a special check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle
until Mr. Fearing had passed over it.

It would be too tedious to tell you of all; we will therefore only mention a
passage or two more. When he was come to Vanity Fair, I thought he would
have fought with all the men in the fair. I feared there we should have been
both knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. Upon the
Enchanted Ground he was very wakeful. But when he was come at the river
where was no bridge, there again he was in a heavy case. Now, now, he said,
he should be drowned forever, and so never see that face with comfort that
he had come so many miles to behold.

And here also I took notice of what was very remarkable: the water of that
river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life; so he went
over at last, not much above wetshod. When he was going up to the gate, I
began to take leave of 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.

MR. HONEST: Then it seems he was well at last?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes, yes, I never had doubt about him. He was a man of a
choice spirit, only he was always kept very low, and that made his life so
burdensome to himself, and so troublesome to others. Psa. 88. He was, above
many, tender of sin: he was so afraid of doing injuries to others, that he
often would deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not
offend. Rom. 14:21; 1 Cor. 8:13.

MR. HONEST: But what should be the reason that such a good man should be all
his days so much in the dark?

MR. GREAT-HEART: There are two sorts of reasons for it. One is, the wise God
will have it so: some must pipe, and some must weep. Matt. 11:16. Now Mr.
Fearing was one that 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 imperfection of Mr.
Fearing; he could play upon no other music but this till towards his latter
end.

[I make bold to talk thus metaphorically for the ripening of the wits of
young readers, and because, in the book of Revelation, the saved are
compared to a company of musicians, that play upon their trumpets and harps,
and sing their songs before the throne.Rev. 5:8; 14:2,3.]

MR. HONEST: He was a very zealous man, as one may see by the relation you
have given of him. Difficulties, lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at
all; it was only sin, death, and hell, that were to him a terror, because he
had some doubts about his interest in that celestial country.

MR. GREAT-HEART: You say right; those were the things that were his
troublers; and they, as you

have well observed, arose from the weakness of his mind thereabout, not from
weakness of spirit as to the practical part of a 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.

CHRISTIANA: Then said Christiana, This relation of Mr. Fearing has done me
good; I thought 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 so
hard upon him, they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided
for entertainment; but my trouble was always such as made me knock the
louder.

MERCY: If I might also speak my heart, I must say that something of him has
also dwelt in me. For I have ever been more afraid of the lake, and the loss
of a place in paradise, than I have been of the loss 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.

MATTHEW: Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made me think that I was
far from having that within me which accompanies 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 is the fear of hell, yet, to be sure, there is no grace where there is
no fear of God.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Well said, James; thou hast hit the mark. For the fear of
God is the beginning of wisdom; and to be sure, they that want the beginning
have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr.
Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell.


“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?

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. Fearing, Mr. Honest began to tell them of another,
but his name was Mr. Self-will. He pretended himself to be a pilgrim, said
Mr. Honest; but I persuade myself he never came in at the gate that stands
at the head of the way.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Had you ever any talk with him about it?

MR. HONEST: Yes, more than once or twice; but he would always be like
himself, self-willed. He neither cared for man, nor argument, nor yet
example; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and nothing else
could he be got to do.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Pray, what principles did he hold? for I suppose you can
tell.

MR. HONEST: He held that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues
of pilgrims; and that if he did both, he should be certainly saved.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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 blamed; for indeed we are exempted from no vice
absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive. But this, I perceive,
is not the thing; but if I understand you right, your meaning is, that he
was of opinion that it was allowable so to be.

MR. HONEST: Aye, aye, so I mean, and so he believed and practised.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But what grounds had he for his so saying?

MR. HONEST: Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Prithee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars.

MR. HONEST: So I will. He said, to have to do with other men’s wives had
been practised by David, God’s beloved; and therefore he could do it. He
said, to have more women than one was a thing that Solomon practised, and
therefore he could do it. He said, that Sarah and the godly midwives of
Egypt lied, and so did save 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: High base indeed! And are you sure he was of this opinion?

MR. HONEST: I heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, bring
arguments for it, etc.

MR. GREAT-HEART: An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the
world!

MR. HONEST: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But what more false than such a conclusion? For this is as
much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity,
therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind; or 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 like a boar therein. Who could have thought that any one
could so far have been blinded by the power of lust? But what is written
must be true: they “stumble at the word, being disobedient; whereunto also
they were appointed.” 1 Peter, 2:8. His supposing that such may have the
godly men’s virtues, who addict themselves to their vices, is also a
delusion as strong as the other. To eat up the sin of God’s people, Hos.
4:8, as a dog licks up filth, is no sign that one is possessed with their
virtues. Nor can I believe that one who is of this opinion, can at present
have faith or love in him. But I know you have made strong objections
against him; prithee what can he say for himself?

MR. HONEST: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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
accidentally, the other leads them into the snare.

MR. HONEST: There are many of this man’s mind, that have not this man’s
mouth; and that makes going on pilgrimage of so little esteem as it is.

MR. GREAT-HEART: You have said the truth, and it is to be lamented: but he
that feareth the King of paradise, shall come out of them all.

CHRISTIANA: There are strange opinions in the world. I know one that said,
it was time enough to repent when we come to die.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Such are not overwise; that man would have been loth, might
he have had a week to run twenty miles in his life, to defer his journey to
the last hour of that week.

MR. HONEST: 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 pilgrims, and who one would have
thought could not have lived a day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims.
I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again have, 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, who, when they have been almost
there, have come back again, and said there is none. I have heard some vaunt
what they would do in case they should be opposed, that have, even at a
false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim’s way, and all.

Now, as they were thus on their way, there came one running to meet them,
and said, Gentlemen, and you of the weaker sort, if you love life, shift for
yourselves, for the robbers are before you.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said Mr. Great-Heart, They be the three that set upon
Little-Faith heretofore. Well, said he, we are ready for them: so they went
on their way. Now they looked at every turning when they should have met
with the villains; but whether they heard of Mr. Great-Heart, or whether
they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims.

Christiana then wished for an inn to refresh herself and her children,
because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, There is one a little before
us, where a very honorable disciple, one Gaius, dwells. Rom. 16:23. So they
all concluded 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 were Christiana, Mercy, and the boys 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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 conveniently go out to seek
food; but such as we have you shall be welcome to, if that will content.

MR. GREAT-HEART: We will be content with what thou hast in the house; for as
much as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is
convenient.

Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was,
Taste-that-which-is-good, to get ready supper for so many pilgrims. This
done, he comes up again, saying, Come, my good friends, you are welcome to
me, and I am glad that I have a house to entertain you in; and while supper
is making ready, if you please, let us entertain one another with some good
discourse: so they all said, Content.

GAIUS: Then said Gaius, Whose wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter
is this young damsel?

MR. GREAT-HEART: This woman is the wife of one Christian, a pilgrim of
former times; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her
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 or
tread in the same.

GAIUS: Then said Gaius, Is this Christian’s wife, and are these Christian’s
children? I knew your husband’s father, yea, also his father’s father. Many
have been good of this stock; their ancestors dwelt first at Antioch. Acts
11:26. Christian’s progenitors (I suppose you have heard your husband talk
of them) were very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed
themselves men of great virtue and courage for the Lord of the pilgrims, his
ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband’s
relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen,
that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was
knocked on the head with stones. Acts 7:59, 60. James, another of this
generation, was slain with the edge of the sword. Acts 12:2. To say nothing
of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband
came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions; Romanus, whose flesh
was cut by pieces from his bones; and Polycarp, that played the man in the
fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun for the wasps
to eat; and he whom they put into a sack, and cast him into the sea to be
drowned. It would be 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Indeed, sir, they are likely lads: they seem to choose
heartily their father’s ways.

GAIUS: 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 upon the
face of the earth; let Christiana look out some damsels for her sons, to
whom they may be betrothed, etc., that the name of their father, and the
house of his progenitors, may never be forgotten in the world.

MR. HONEST: ‘Tis pity his family should fall and be extinct.

GAIUS: Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may; but let Christiana take my
advice, and that is the way to uphold it. And, Christiana, said this
innkeeper, I am glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a
lovely couple. And if I may advise, take Mercy into a nearer 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 married: but more of that hereafter.

Gaius also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the behalf of women, to
take away their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by
a woman, Gen. 3, so also did life and health: God sent forth his Son, made
of a woman. Gal. 4:4. Yea, to show how much they that came after did abhor
the act of the mother, this sex in the Old Testament coveted children, if
happily this or that woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the world.
I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him,
before either man or angel. Luke 1:42-46. I read not that ever any man did
give unto Christ so much as one groat; but the women followed him, and
ministered to him of their substance. Luke 8:2,3. ‘Twas a woman that washed
his feet with tears, Luke 7:37-50, and a woman that anointed his body at 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 sat over against his sepulchre when he was buried.
Matt. 27:61. They were women that were first with him at his
resurrection-morn, Luke 24:1, and women that brought tidings first to his
disciples that he was risen from the dead. Luke 24:22,23. Women therefore
are highly favored, and show by these things that they are sharers with us
in the grace of life.

Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready, and sent one
to lay the cloth, and the trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in order.

Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth, and of this forerunner of the
supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite for 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 the laying of the
trenchers, and the setting of salt upon the board, when compared with the
feast which our Lord will make for us when we come to his house.

So supper came up. And first a heave-shoulder and a wave-breast were set on
the table before them; to show that they must begin their 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;
Judges 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.

Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said Gaius,
Eat freely of this, for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your
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 them up a dish of apples, and they were very good-tasted
fruit. Then said Matthew, May we eat apples, since it was such by and with
which the serpent beguiled our first mother?

Then said Gaius,


“Apples were they with which we were beguil’d,

Yet sin, not apples, hath our souls defil’d:

Apples forbid, if ate, corrupt the blood;

To eat such, when commanded, does us good:

Drink of his flagons then, thou church, his dove,

And eat his apples, who art sick of love.”

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 nuts. Song 6:11. Then said some at the table, Nuts spoil
tender teeth, especially the teeth of children: which when Gaius heard, he
said,


“Hard texts are nuts, (I will not call them cheaters,)

Whose shells do keep the kernel 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 cracking
your nuts, if you please, do you open this riddle:


“A man there was, though some did count him mad,

The more he cast away, the more he had.”

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 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; and there is that withholdeth more than is meet, but it
tendeth to poverty: There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing;
there is that maketh himself poor, yet hath great riches. 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
Matthew be married here to Mercy, before we go any further. The which Gaius
the host overhearing, said, With a very good will, my child.

So they stayed there more than a month, and Mercy was given to Matthew to
wife.

While they stayed here, Mercy, as her custom was, would be making 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 with travelling: Then Gaius called to show them their
chamber; but said Mercy, I will have them to bed. So she had them to bed,
and they slept well: but the rest sat up all night; for Gaius and they were
such suitable company, that they could not tell how to part. After much talk
of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old Mr. Honest, he that put
forth the riddle to Gaius, began to nod. Then said Great-Heart, What, sir,
you begin to be drowsy; come, rub up, now here is a riddle for you. Then
said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. Then replied Mr. Great-heart,


“He that would kill, must first be overcome:

Who live abroad would, first must die at home.”

Ha, said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one; hard to expound, and harder to
practise. But come, landlord, said he, I will, if you please, leave my part
to you: do you expound it, and I will hear what you say.

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;

Who that he lives would convince me,

Unto himself must die.”

It is right, said Gaius; good doctrine and experience teach this. For,
first, until grace displays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory,
it is altogether without heart to oppose sin. Besides, if sin is Satan’s
cords, by which the soul lies bound, how should it make resistance before it
is loosed from that infirmity? Secondly, Nor will any one that knows either
reason or grace, believe that such a man can be a living monument of grace
that is a slave to his own corruptions. And now it comes into my mind, I
will tell you a story worth the hearing. There were two men that went on
pilgrimage; the one began when he was young, the other when he was old. The
young man had strong corruptions to grapple with; the old man’s were weak
with the decays of nature. The young man trod his steps as even as did the
old one, and was every way as light as he. Who now, or which of them, had
their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be alike?

MR. HONEST: The young man’s, doubtless. For that which makes head against
the greatest opposition, gives best demonstration that it is strongest;
especially when it also holdeth pace with that which meets not with half so
much, as to be sure old age does not. Besides, I have observed that old men
have blessed themselves with this mistake; namely, taking the 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 that he should
read a chapter; so he read 53d of Isaiah. When he had done, Mr. Honest asked
why it was said that the Saviour was to come “out of a dry ground;” and
also, that “he had no form nor comeliness in him.”

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said Mr. Great-Heart, To the first I answer, because
the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then lost almost all the
sap and spirit of religion. To the second I say, the words are spoken in the
person of 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 precious stones are covered over with
a homely crust, when they have found one, because they know not what they
have found, cast it away again, as men do a common stone.

Well, said Gaius, now you are here, and since, as I know, Mr. Great-Heart is
good at his weapons, if you please, after we have refreshed ourselves, we
will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from
hence there is one Slay-good, a giant, that doth much annoy the King’s
highway in these parts; and I know whereabout his haunt is. He is master of
a number of thieves: ‘t would be well if we could clear these parts of him.
So they consented and went: Mr. Great-Heart with his sword, helmet, and
shield; and the rest with spears and staves.

When they came to the place where he was, they found him with one
Feeble-mind in his hand, whom his servants had brought unto him, having
taken him in the way. Now the giant was rifling him, with a purpose after
that to pick his bones; for he was of the nature of flesheaters.

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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: We want thee; for we are come to revenge the quarrels of
the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, when thou hast dragged them
out of the King’s highway: wherefore come out of thy cave. So he armed
himself and came out, and to battle they went, and fought for above an hour,
and then stood still to take wind.

SLAY-GOOD: Then said the giant, Why are you here on my ground?

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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 sides, that he made him let his weapon
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.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: 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 pilgrim’s life, and have
traveled hither from the town of Uncertain, where I and my father were born.
I am a man of no strength at all of body, nor yet of mind, but would, if I
could, though I can but crawl, spend my life in the 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 necessary for my
journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the
Interpreter, I received much kindness there: and because the hill of
Difficulty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his
servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, 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 any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he
keeps heart whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of providence, to die
by the hand of the enemy. Robbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am;
but I 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 when I can, to go when I cannot run, and to
creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I thank him that loved me, I am
fixed; my way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge,
though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind.

MR. HONEST: Then said old Mr. Honest, Have not you, sometime ago, been
acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrim?

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Acquainted with him! Yes, he came from the town of
Stupidity, which lieth four degrees to the northward of the city of
Destruction, and as many off of where I was born: yet we were well
acquainted, for indeed he was my uncle, my father’s brother. He and I have
been much of a temper: he was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much
of a complexion.

MR. HONEST: I perceive you knew him, and I am apt to believe also that you
were related one to another; for you have his whitely look, a cast like his
with your eye, and your speech is much alike.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: 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. What thou hast a mind to, call for 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 favor
when he stopped me, and resolved to let me go no further? Did he intend,
that after he had rifled my pockets I should go to Gaius mine host? Yet so
it is.

Now, just as Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in talk, there came one
running, and called at the door, and said, that about a mile and a half off
there was one Mr. Not-right, a pilgrim, struck dead upon the place where he
was, with a thunderbolt.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Alas! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain? He overtook me
some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my company-keeper. He
was also with me when Slay-good the giant took me, but he was nimble of his
heels, and escaped; but it seems he escaped to die, and I was taken to live.


“What one would think doth seek to slay outright,

Ofttimes delivers from the saddest plight.

That very Providence whose face is death,

Doth ofttimes to the lowly life bequeath.

I taken was, he did escape and flee;

Hands cross’d gave death to him and life to me.”

Now, about this time Matthew and Mercy were married; also Gaius gave his
daughter Phebe to James, Matthew’s brother, to wife; after which time they
yet stayed about ten days at Gaius’ house, spending their time and the
seasons like as pilgrims use to do.

When they were to depart, Gaius made them a feast, and they did eat and
drink, and were merry. Now the hour was come that they must 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 him,

MR. GREAT-HEART: Beloved, thou doest faithfully whatsoever thou doest to the
brethren, and to strangers, who have borne witness of thy charity before the
church, whom if thou yet bring forward on their journey, after a godly sort,
thou shalt do well. 3 John 5,6. Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and
his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble-mind. He also gave him
something to drink by the way.

Now Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out of the door, made as if he
intended to linger. The which, when Mr. Great-Heart espied, he said, Come,
Mr. Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us: I will be your conductor, and
you shall fare as the rest.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Alas! I want a suitable companion. You are all lusty and
strong, but I, as you see, am weak; I choose, therefore, rather to come
behind, lest, by reason of my many infirmities, I should be both a burden to
myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and
shall be offended and made weak at that which others can bear. I shall like
no laughing; I shall like no gay attire; I shall like no unprofitable
questions. Nay, I am so weak a man as to be offended with that which others
have a liberty to do. I do not yet know all the truth: I am a very ignorant
Christian man. Sometimes, if I hear some rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me
because I cannot do so too. It is with me as it is with a weak man among the
strong, or as with a sick man among the healthy, or as a lamp despised; 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But, brother, said Mr. Great-Heart, I have it in commission
to comfort the feeble-minded, and to support the weak. You must needs go
along with us; we will wait for you; we will lend you our help; we will deny
ourselves of some things, both opinionative and practical, for your sake: we
will not enter into doubtful disputations before you; we will be made all
things to you, rather than you shall be left behind. 1 Thess. 5:14; Rom. 14;
1 Cor. 8:9-13; 9:22.

Now, all this while they were at Gaius’ door; and behold, as they were thus
in the heat of their discourse, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by, with his crutches
in his hand, and he also was going on pilgrimage.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, Man, how camest thou
hither? I was but now complaining that I had not a suitable companion, but
thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt; I
hope thou and I may be some help.

MR. READY-TO-HALT: I shall be glad of thy company, said the other; and, good
Mr. Feeble-mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I
will lend thee one of my crutches.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Nay, said 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.

MR. READY-TO-HALT: 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,

MR. HONEST: Pray, sir, now we are upon the road, tell us some profitable
things of some that have gone on pilgrimage before us.

MR. GREAT-HEART: With a good will. I suppose you have heard how Christian of
old did meet with Apollyon in the Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard
work he had to go 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, with one Discontent, and Shame; four as deceitful villains
as a man can meet with upon the road.

MR. HONEST: Yes, I have heard of all this; but indeed good Faithful was
hardest put to it with Shame: he was an unwearied one.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Aye; for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all men had the
wrong name.

MR. HONEST: But pray, sir, where was it that Christian and Faithful met
Talkative? That same was also a notable one.

MR. GREAT-HEART: He was a confident fool; yet many follow his ways.

MR. HONEST: He had like to have beguiled Faithful.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Aye, but Christian put him into a way quickly to find him
out.

Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with
Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them what should befall them at
Vanity Fair. Then said their guide, Hereabouts did Christian and Faithful
meet with Evangelist, who prophesied to them of what troubles they should
meet with at Vanity Fair.

MR. HONEST: Say you so? I dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did
read unto them.

MR. GREAT-HEART: It was so, 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 a flint. Do not you remember how undaunted they were when they
stood before the judge?

MR. HONEST: Well: Faithful bravely suffered.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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.

MR. HONEST: Well, but pray go on; for you are well acquainted with things.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Above all that Christian met with after he had passed
through Vanity Fair, one By-ends was the arch one.

MR. HONEST: By-ends! what was he?

MR. GREAT-HEART: A very arch fellow, a downright hypocrite; one that would
be religious, whichever way the world went; but so cunning, that he would be
sure never to lose or suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every
fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn from
opinion to opinion; yea, and plead for so doing, too. But, so far as I could
learn, he came to an ill end with his by-ends; nor did I ever hear that any
of his children were ever of any esteem with any that truly feared God.

Now by this time they were come within sight of the town of Vanity, where
Vanity Fair is kept. So, when 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 Cyprusian by nation,
an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good, we will
turn in there.

Content, said old Honest; Content, said Christiana; Content, said Mr.
Feeble-mind; and so they said all. Now you must think it was eventide by
that they got to the outside of the town; but Mr. Great-Heart knew the way
to the old man’s house. So thither they came; and he called at the door, and
the old man within knew his tongue as soon as ever he heard it; so he opened
the door, and they all came in. Then said Mnason, their host, How far have
ye come to-day? So they said, from the house of Gaius our friend. I promise
you, said he, you have gone a good stitch. You may well be weary; sit down.
So they sat down.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, good sirs? I dare
say you are welcome to my friend.

MR. MNASON: 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.

MR. HONEST: Our great want, a while since, was harbor and good company, and
now I hope we have both.

MR. MNASON: For harbor, you see what it is; but for good company, that will
appear in the trial.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Well, said Mr. Great-Heart, will you have the pilgrims up
into their lodging?

MR. MNASON: I will, said Mr. Mnason So he had them to their respective
places; and also showed them a very fair dining-room, where they might be,
and sup together until the time should come to go to rest.

Now, when they were seated in their places, and were a little cheery after
their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord if there was any store of good
people in the town.

MR. MNASON: We have a few: for indeed they are but a few when compared with
them on the other side.

MR. HONEST: But how shall we do to see some of them? for the sight of good
men to them that are going on pilgrimage, is like the appearing of the moon
and stars to them that are sailing upon the seas.

MR. MNASON: Then Mr. Mnason stamped with his foot, and his daughter Grace
came up. So he said unto her, Grace, go you, tell my friends, Mr. Contrite,
Mr. 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 neighbors, 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,
the famous pilgrim, who, with Faithful his brother, was so shamefully
handled in our town. At that they stood amazed, saying, We little thought to
see Christiana when Grace came to call us; wherefore this is a very
comfortable surprise. They then asked her of her welfare, and if these young
men were her husband’s sons. And when she had told them they were, they
said, The King whom you love and serve make you as your father, and bring
you where he is in peace.

MR. HONEST: Then Mr. Honest (when they were all sat down) asked Mr. Contrite
and the rest, in what posture their town was at present.

MR. CONTRITE: You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair-time. ‘T is hard
keeping our hearts and spirits in good order when we are in a cumbered
condition. He that lives in such a place as this is, and has to do with such
as we have, has need of an item to caution him to take heed every moment of
the day.

MR. HONEST: But how are your neighbors now for quietness?

MR. CONTRITE: They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how
Christian and Faithful were used at our town; but of late, I say, they have
been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth as a load upon
them till now; for since they burned him, they have been ashamed to burn any
more. In those days we were afraid to walk the street; 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 towards you?

MR. HONEST: It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men: sometimes our
way is clean, sometimes foul; sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill; we are
seldom at a certainty. The wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one
a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs
already, and what are yet behind we know not; but for the most part, we find
it true that has been talked of old, A good man must suffer trouble.

MR. CONTRITE: You talk of rubs; what rubs have you met withal?

MR. HONEST: Nay, ask Mr. Great-Heart, our guide; for he can give the best
account of that.

MR. GREAT-HEART: We have been beset three or four times already. First,
Christiana and her children were beset by two ruffians, who they feared
would take away their lives. We were beset by Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul,
and Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last than were beset by
him. And thus it was: after we had been some time at the house of Gaius mine
host, and of the whole church, we were minded upon a time to take our
weapons with us, and go see if we could light upon any of those that are
enemies to 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 another prey, he left the poor
man in his hole, and came out. So we fell to it full sore, and he lustily
laid about him; but, in conclusion, he was brought down to the ground, and
his head cut off, and set up by the way-side for a terror to such as should
after practise such ungodliness. That I tell you the truth, here is the man
himself to affirm it, who was as a lamb taken out of the mouth of the lion.

MR. FEEBLE-MIND: Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true, to my cost
and comfort: to my cost, when he threatened to pick my bones every moment;
and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-Heart and his friends, with their
weapons, approach so near for my deliverance.

MR. HOLY-MAN: Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things that they have
need to possess who go on pilgrimage; courage, and an unspotted life. If
they have not courage, they can never hold on their way; and if their lives
be loose, they will make the very name of a pilgrim stink.

MR. LOVE-SAINTS: Then said Mr. Love-saints, I hope this caution is not
needful among you: but truly there are many that go upon the road, who
rather declare themselves strangers to pilgrimage, than strangers and
pilgrims on the earth.

MR. DARE-NOT-LIE: Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, ‘Tis true. They have neither
the pilgrim’s weed, nor the pilgrim’s courage; they go not uprightly, but
all awry with their feet; one shoe goeth inward, another outward; and their
hosen are out behind: here a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement of
their Lord.

MR. PENITENT: These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled
for; nor are the pilgrims like to have that grace put upon them and their
Pilgrim’s Progress as they desire, until the way is cleared of such spots
and blemishes. Thus they sat talking and spending the time until supper was
set upon the table, unto which they went, and refreshed their weary bodies:
so they went to rest.

Now they staid in the fair a great while, at the house of Mr. Mnason, who in
process of time gave his daughter Grace unto Samuel, Christian’s son, to
wife, and his daughter Martha to Joseph.

The time, as I said, that they staid here, was long, for it was not now as
in former times. Wherefore the pilgrims grew acquainted with many of the
good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she
was wont, labored much for the poor: wherefore their bellies and backs
blessed her, and she was there 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 of the town. It would also carry away their children, and teach
them to suck its whelps. Now, no man in the town durst so much as face this
monster; but all fled when they heard the noise of his coming.

The monster was like unto no one beast on the earth. Its body was like a
dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns. It made great havoc of
children, and yet it was governed by a woman. Rev. 17:3. This monster
propounded conditions to men; and such men as loved their lives more than
their souls, accepted of those conditions. So they came under.

Now Mr. Great-Heart, together with those who came to visit the pilgrims at
Mr. Mnason’s house, entered into a covenant to go and engage this beast, if
perhaps they might deliver the people of this town from the paws and mouth
of this so devouring a serpent.

Then did Mr. Great-Heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and
Mr. Penitent, with their weapons, go forth to meet him. Now the monster at
first was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain;
but they so belabored him, being sturdy men at arms, that they made him make
a retreat: so they came home to Mr. Mnason’s house again.

The monster, you must know, had his certain seasons to come out in, and to
make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town. At these
seasons did these valiant worthies watch him, 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 townsmen’s children as
formerly he had done; and it is verily believed by some that this beast will
die of his wounds.

This, therefore, made Mr. Great-Heart and his fellows of great fame in this
town; so that many of the people that wanted their taste of things, yet had
a reverent esteem and respect for them. Upon this account, therefore, it
was, that these pilgrims got not much hurt here. True, there were some of
the baser sort, that could see no more than a mole, nor understand any more
than a beast; these had no reverence for these men, and took no notice of
their valor and adventures.
_________________________________________________________________

THE SEVENTH STAGE

Well, the time grew on that the pilgrims must go on their way; wherefore
they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends; they conferred
with them; they had some time set apart therein to commit each other to the
protection of their Prince. There 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 accompanying
them so far as was convenient, they again committed each other to the
protection of their King, and parted.

They therefore that were of the pilgrims’ company went on, and Mr.
Great-Heart went before them. Now, the women and children being weakly, they
were forced to go as they could bear; by which means Mr. Ready-to-halt and
Mr. Feeble-mind, had more to sympathize with their condition.

When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them
farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death.
Therefore they made a stand, and thanked him that had enabled him to bear
his cross so well; and the rather, because they now found that they had a
benefit by such a manly suffering as his was.

They went on therefore after this a good way further, talking of Christian
and Faithful, and how Hopeful joined himself to Christian after that
Faithful was dead.

Now they were come up with the hill Lucre, where the silver mine was which
took Demas off from his pilgrimage, and into which, as some think, By-ends
fell and perished; wherefore they considered that. But when they were come
to the old monument that stood over against the hill Lucre, to wit, to the
pillar of salt, that stood also within view of Sodom and its stinking lake,
they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men of such knowledge and
ripeness of wit as they were, should be so blinded as to turn aside here.
Only they considered again, that nature is not affected with the harms that
others have met with, 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 Mountains; 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. Psa. 23:2.

By this river-side, in the meadows, there were cotes and folds for sheep, 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 admonished her four daughters to commit their little ones, that
by these waters they might be housed, harbored, succored, and nourished, and
that none of them might be lacking in time to come. This man, if any of them
go astray, or be lost, will bring them again; he will also bind up that
which was broken, and will strengthen them that are sick. Jer. 23:4; Ezek.
34:11-16. Here they will never want meat, drink, and clothing; here they
will be kept from thieves and robbers; for this man will die before one of
those committed to his trust shall be lost. Besides, here they shall be sure
to have good nurture and admonition, and shall be taught to walk in right
paths, and that you know is a favor of no small account. Also here, as you
see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of
trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit: fruit, not like that which Matthew
ate of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub’s garden; but fruit that
procureth health where there is none, and that continueth and increaseth it
where it is. So they were content to commit their little ones to him; and
that which was also an encouragement to them so to do, was, for that all
this was to be at the charge of the King, and so was as an hospital to young
children and orphans.

Now they went on. And when they were come to By-path Meadow, to the stile
over which Christian went with his fellow Hopeful, when they were taken by
Giant Despair and put into Doubting Castle, they sat down, and consulted
what was best to be done: to wit, now they were so strong, and had got such
a man as Mr. Great-Heart for their conductor, whether they had not best to
make an attempt upon the giant, demolish his castle, and if there were any
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 unconsecrated 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 fight 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 the
Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, a little child might
lead them. Isa. 11:6.

So Mr. Great-Heart, old Honest, and the four young men, went to go up to
Doubting Castle, to look for Giant Despair. When they came at the castle
gate, they knocked for entrance with an unusual noise. At that the old Giant
comes to the gate, and Diffidence his wife follows. Then said he, Who and
what is he that is so hardy, as after this manner to molest the Giant
Despair? Mr. Great-Heart replied, It is I, Great-Heart, one of the King of
the 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 thought he, Since heretofore I have made 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 die. He struggled hard, and had, as
they say, as many lives as a cat; but Great-Heart was his death, for he left
him not till he had severed his head from his shoulders.

Then they fell to demolishing Doubting Castle, and that you know might with
ease be done, since Giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in
destroying of that; and in it of pilgrims they found one Mr. Despondency,
almost starved to death, and one Much-afraid, his daughter: these two they
saved alive. But it would have made you wonder to have seen the dead bodies
that lay here and there in the castle yard, and how full of dead men’s bones
the dungeon was.

When Mr. Great-Heart and his companions had performed this exploit, they
took Mr. Despondency, and his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection;
for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting Castle
to 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 jocund and merry. Now
Christiana, if need was, could play upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy
upon the lute: so, since they were so merry disposed, she played them a
lesson, and Ready-to-halt would dance. So he took Despondency’s daughter,
Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in the road. True, he
could not dance without one crutch in his hand, but I promise you he footed
it well: also the girl was to be commended, for she answered the music
handsomely.

As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not so much to him; he was for feeding
rather than dancing, for that he was almost starved. So Christiana gave him
some of her bottle of spirits for present relief, and then prepared him
something to eat; and in a little time the old gentleman came to 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 Despair, and set it upon a pole by the highway-side,
right over against the pillar that Christian erected for a caution to
pilgrims that came after, to take heed of entering into his grounds.


Then he writ under it upon a marble stone these verses following:

“This is the head of him whose name only

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 themselves against Doubting Castle,
and had slain Giant Despair, they went forward, and went on till they came
to the Delectable Mountains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed
themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted 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 Christiana and her train,

Her sons, and her sons’ wives, who, like the wain,

Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer

From sin to grace, else they had not been here.

Next here’s old Honest come on pilgrimage,

Ready-to-halt too, who I dare engage

True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind,

Who willing was not to be left behind.

Despondency, good man, is coming after,

And so also is Much-afraid, his daughter.

May we have entertainment here, or must

We further go? Let’s knew whereon to trust.”

Then said the shepherds, This is a comfortable company. You are welcome to
us; for we have for the feeble, as well as for the strong. Our Prince has an
eye to what is done to the least of these; therefore Infirmity must not be a
block to our entertainment. 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 draw back; but as for you, and the rest
that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty. Then said Mr.
Great-Heart, This day I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that
you are my Lord’s shepherds indeed; for that you have not pushed these
diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way
into the palace with flowers, as you should. Ezek. 34:21.

So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-Heart and the rest did follow.
When they were also set down, the shepherds said to those of the weaker
sort, What is it that you would have? for, said they, all things must be
managed here to 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 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 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 clothed all in white; and two men, Prejudice and Ill-will,
continually casting dirt upon him. Now behold, the dirt, whatsoever they
cast at him, would in 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 answered, This man is named Godlyman, and
this garment is to show the innocency of his life. Now, those that throw
dirt at him are such as hate his well-doing; but, as you see the dirt will
not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that liveth innocently
in the world. Whoever they be that would make such men dirty, they labor all
in vain; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their
innocence shall break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the
noonday.

Then they took them, and had them to Mount Charity, where they showed them a
man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of 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 an Ethiopian, with intention to make him white; but the more they
washed him, the blacker he was. Then they asked the shepherds what that
should mean. So they told them, saying, Thus it is with the vile person; all
means used to get such a one a good name, shall in conclusion tend but to
make him more abominable. Thus it was with the pharisees; and so it shall be
with all hypocrites.

Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana her mother, Mother, I
would, if it might be, see the hole in the hill, or that commonly called the
By-way to hell. So her mother brake her mind to the shepherds. Then they
went to the door; it was on the side of an hill; and they opened it, and bid
Mercy hearken a while. So she hearkened, and heard one saying, Cursed be my
father for holding of my feet back from the way of peace and life. Another
said, Oh that I had been torn in pieces before I had, to save my life, lost
my soul! And another said, If I were to live again, how would I deny myself,
rather than to 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 entertained them with what the house would afford.
But Mercy, being a young and married woman, longed for something that she
saw there, but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked her what she
ailed, for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There is a
looking-glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind;
if, therefore, I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her
mother, I will mention thy wants to the shepherds, and they will not deny
thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed.
Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame, but a virtue, to long for such a
thing as that. So Mercy said, Then mother, if you please, ask the shepherds
if they are willing to sell it.

Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would present a man, one way, with
his own features exactly; and turn it but another way, and it would show one
the very face and similitude of the Prince of pilgrims himself. Yes, I have
talked with them that can tell, and they have said that they have seen the
very crown of thorns upon his head by looking in that glass; they have
therein also seen the holes in his hands, his feet, and his side. Yea, such
an excellency is there in this glass, that it will show him to one where
they have a mind to see him, whether living or dead; whether in earth, or in
heaven; 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 breeding woman, that I think doth long
for something that she hath seen in this house; and she thinks that she
shall miscarry if she should by you be denied.

EXPERIENCE: Call her, call her, she shall 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 fetched it, and with a joyful consent it
was given her. Then she bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said, By this I
know that I have obtained favor in your eyes.

They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to
their husbands great commendations, for that they had joined with Mr.
Great-Heart in the slaying of Giant Despair, and the demolishing of Doubting
Castle.

About Christiana’s neck the shepherds put a bracelet, and so did they about
the necks of her four daughters; also they put ear-rings in their ears, and
jewels on their foreheads.

When they were minded to go hence, they let them go in peace, but gave not
to them those certain cautions which before were given to Christian and his
companion. The reason was, for that these had Great-Heart to be their guide,
who was one that was well acquainted with things, and so could give them
their cautions more seasonably, to wit, even when the danger was nigh the
approaching. What cautions Christian and his companion had received of the
shepherds, they had also lost by that the time was come that they had need
to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this 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 receive without one let,

That make the other life our mark and home!


What novelties they have to us they give,

That we, though pilgrims, joyful lives may live;

They do upon us, too, such things bestow,

That show we pilgrims are, where’er we go.”
_________________________________________________________________

THE EIGHTH STAGE

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 Apostasy.
Wherefore of him Mr. Great-Heart their guide now put them in mind, saying,
This is the place where Christian met with one Turn-away, who carried with
him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say
concerning this man; he would 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 meet with one that did bid him look there; but he
gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said he was resolved to go back to
his own town. Before he came to the gate, he met with Evangelist, who
offered to lay hands on him, to turn him into the way again; but this
Turn-away resisted him, and having done much despite unto him, he got away
over the wall, and so escaped his hand.

Then they went on; and just at the place where Little-Faith formerly was
robbed, there stood a man with his sword drawn, and his face all over with
blood. Then said Mr. Great-Heart, Who art thou? The man made answer, saying,
I am one whose name is Valiant-for-truth. I am a pilgrim, and am going to
the Celestial City. Now, as I was in my way, there were three men that 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 that the place from whence I came, had I not found
incommodity there, I had not forsaken it at all; but finding it altogether
unsuitable to me, and very unprofitable for me, I forsook it for this way.
Then they asked me what I said to the third. And I told them my life cost
far more dear than that I should lightly give it away. Besides, you have
nothing to do thus to put things to my choice; wherefore at your peril be it
if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and
Pragmatic, drew upon me, and I also drew upon them. So we fell to it, one
against three, for the space of above three hours. They have left upon me,
as you see, 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 betook themselves to
flight.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But here was great odds, three against one .

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: ‘Tis true; but little and more are nothing to him that
has the truth on his side: “Though an host should encamp against me,” said
one, Psa. 27:3, “my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me,
in this will I be confident,” etc. Besides, said he, I have read in some
records, that one man has fought an army: and how many did Samson slay with
the jawbone of an ass!

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then said the guide, Why did you not cry out, that some
might have come in for your succor?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: So I did to my King, who I knew could hear me, and afford
invisible help, and that was sufficient for me.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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 awhile, he said, Ha, it
is a right Jerusalem blade.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand
to wield it, and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it.
He need not fear its holding, if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edge
will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul, and spirit, and
all. Heb. 4:12.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But you fought a great while; I wonder you was not weary.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand; and then
they were joined together as if a sword grew out of my arm; and when the
blood ran through my fingers, then I fought with most courage.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Thou hast done well; thou hast resisted unto blood,
striving against sin. Thou shalt abide by us, come in and go out with us;
for we are thy companions. Then they took him and washed his wounds, and
gave him of what they had, to refresh him: and so they went together.

Now, as they went on, because Mr. Great-Heart was delighted in him, (for he
loved one greatly that he found to be a man of his hands,) and because there
were in company those that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned
with him about many things; as first, what countryman he was.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: I am of Dark-land; for there was I born, and there my
father and mother are still.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Dark-land! said the guide; doth not that lie on the same
coast with the City of Destruction?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Yes, it doth. Now that which caused me to come on
pilgrimage was this. We had one Mr. Tell-true come into our 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 was also told what welcome he
had at all his Lord’s lodgings, especially when he came to the gates of the
Celestial City; for there, said the man, he was received with sound of
trumpet by a company of shining ones. He told also how all the bells in the
city did ring for joy at his reception, and what golden garments he was
clothed with; with many other things that now I shall forbear to relate. In
a word, that man so told the story of Christian and his travels that my
heart fell into a burning haste to be gone after him; nor could father or
mother stay me. So I got from them, and am come thus far on my way.

MR. GREAT-HEART: You came in at the gate, did you not?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Yes, yes; for the same man also told us, that all would
be nothing if we did not begin to enter this way at the gate.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrimage of
your husband, and what he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Why, is this Christian’s wife?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes, that it is; and these also are his four sons.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: What, and going on pilgrimage too?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes, verily, they are following after.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: 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 after him in
at the gates into the Celestial City.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Without doubt it will be a comfort to him; for, next to the
joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and
children.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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 glad to see them there than to see they are wanting?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Well, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. Have you
any more things to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage?

MR. GREAT-HEART: Yes; were your father and mother willing that you should
become a pilgrim?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: O no; they used all means imaginable to persuade me to
stay at home.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Why, what could they say against it?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: They said it was an idle life; and if I myself were not
inclined to sloth and laziness, I would never countenance a pilgrim’s
condition.

MR. GREAT-HEART: And what did they say else?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way; yea, the
most dangerous way in the world, said they, is that which the pilgrims go.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Did they show you wherein this way is so dangerous?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Yes; and that in many particulars.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Name some of them.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: They told me of the Slough of Despond, where Christian
was well-nigh smothered. They told me, that there were archers standing
ready in Beelzebub-castle to shoot them who should knock at the Wicket-gate
for entrance. They told me also of the wood and dark mountains; of the hill
Difficulty; of the lions; and also of the three giants, Bloody-man, Maul,
and Slay-good. They said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the
Valley of Humiliation; and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life.
Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death,
where the hobgoblins are, where the light is darkness, where the way is full
of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me also of Giant Despair, of
Doubting Castle, and of the ruin that the pilgrims met with here. Further
they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which was dangerous; And that
after all this I should find a river, over which there was no bridge; and
that that river did lie betwixt me and the Celestial country.

MR. GREAT-HEART: And was this all?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: No. They also told me that this way was full of
deceivers, and of persons that lay in wait there to turn good men out of the
path.

MR. GREAT-HEART: But how did they make that out?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: They told me that Mr. Wordly 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.

MR. GREAT-HEART: I promise you this was enough to discourage you; but did
they make an end here?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: No, stay. They told me also of many that had tried that
way of old, and that had gone a great way therein, to see if they could find
something of the glory there that so many had so much talked of from time to
time, and how they came back again, and befooled themselves for setting a
foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of all the country. And
they named several that did so, as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and
Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more; who, they said, had
some of them gone far to see what they could find, but not one of them had
found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Said they any thing more to discourage you?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Yes. They told me of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim,
and how he found his way so solitary that he never had a comfortable hour
therein; also, that Mr. Despondency had like to have been starved therein:
yea, and also (which I had almost forgot) that Christian himself, about whom
there has been such a noise, after all his adventures for a celestial crown,
was certainly drowned in the Black River, and never went a foot further;
however it was smothered up.

MR. GREAT-HEART: And did none of these things discourage you?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: No; they seemed but as so many nothings to me.

MR. GREAT-HEART: How came that about?

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had said; and
that carried me beyond them all.

MR. GREAT-HEART: Then this was your victory, even your faith.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: 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

There’s no discouragement

Shall make him once relent

His first avow’d intent

To be a pilgrim.


Whoso beset him round

With dismal stories,

Do but themselves confound;

His strength the more is.

No lion can him fright,

He’ll with a giant fight,

But he will have a right

To be a pilgrim.


Hobgoblin nor foul fiend

Can daunt his spirit;

He knows he at the end

Shall life inherit.

Then fancies fly away,

He’ll not fear what men say;

He’ll labor night and day

To be a pilgrim.

By this time they were got to the Enchanted Ground, where the air naturally
tended to make one drowsy. And that place was all grown over with briars and
thorns, excepting here and there, where was an enchanted arbor, upon which
if a man sits, or in which if a man sleeps, it is a question, some say,
whether ever he shall rise or wake again in this world. Over this forest,
therefore, they went, both one and another, and Mr. Great-Heart went before,
for that he was the guide; and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being
rear-guard, for fear lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or
thief, should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here,
each man with his sword drawn in his hand; for they knew it was a dangerous
place. Also they cheered up one another as well as they could. Feeble-mind,
Mr. Great-Heart commanded should come up after him; and Mr. Despondency was
under the eye of Mr. Valiant.

Now they had not gone far, but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all;
so that they could scarce, for a great while, the one see the other.
Wherefore they were forced, for some time, to feel one for another by words;
for they walked not by sight. But any one must think, that here was but
sorry going for the best of them all; but how much worse for the women and
children, who both of feet and heart were but tender! Yet so it was, that
through the encouraging words of him that led in the front, and of him that
brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along.

The way also here was very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. Nor was
there, on all this ground, so much as one inn or victualling-house wherein
to refresh the feebler sort. Here, therefore, was grunting, and puffing, and
sighing, while one tumbleth over a bush, another sticks fast in the dirt,
and the children, some of them, lost their shoes in the mire; while one
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 cannot get away from them.

Then they came at an arbor, warm, and promising much refreshing to the
pilgrims; for it was finely wrought above-head, beautified with greens,
furnished with benches and settles. It 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
there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they continually gave so good heed
to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers,
and of the nature of the dangers when they were at them, that usually, 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 Slothful’s Friend,
and was made on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims
there to take up their rest when weary.

I saw them in my dream, that they went on in this their solitary ground,
till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though
when it was light their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways
that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand. But he had in his
pocket a map of all ways leading to or from the Celestial City; wherefore he
struck a light (for he never goes without his tinder-box also), and takes a
view of his book or map, which bids him to be careful in that place to turn
to the 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 nothing 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 maps about him, that he may look, when he is at a stand, which is
the way he must take?

Then they went on in this Enchanted Ground till they came to where there was
another arbor, and it was built by the highway-side. And in that arbor there
lay two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. These two went thus far
on pilgrimage; but here, being wearied with their journey, they sat down to
rest themselves, and so fell fast asleep. When the pilgrims saw them, they
stood still, and shook their heads; for they knew that the sleepers were in
a pitiful case. Then they consulted what to do, whether to go on and leave
them in their sleep, or to step to them and try to awake them; so they
concluded to go to them and 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, did know them; but there was no voice nor answer. Then the
guide did shake them, and do what he could to disturb them. Then said one of
them, I will pay you when I take my money. At which the guide shook his
head. I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand, said the
other. At that, one of the children laughed.

Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this? The guide said, They talk
in their sleep. If you strike them, beat them, or whatever else you do to
them, they will answer you after this fashion; or, as one of them said in
old time, when the waves of the sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one
upon the mast of a ship, Prov. 23:34,35, When I awake, I will seek it yet
again. You know, when men talk in their sleep, they say any thing; but their
words are not governed either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in
their words now, as there was before betwixt their going on pilgrimage and
sitting down here. This, then, is the mischief of it: when heedless ones go
on pilgrimage, ‘tis twenty to one but they are served thus. For this
Enchanted Ground is one of the last refuges that the enemy to pilgrims has;
wherefore it is, as you see, placed almost at the end of the way, and so it
standeth against us with the more advantage. For when, thinks the enemy,
will these fools be so desirous to sit down as when they are weary? 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 Beulah, 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 forward; only they prayed
their guide to strike a light, that they might go the rest of their way by
the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by
the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very
great. 2 Pet. 1:19. But the children began to be sorely weary, and they
cried out unto him that loveth pilgrims, to make their way more comfortable.
So by that they had gone a little further, a wind arose that drove away the
fog, so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off (by much) of the
Enchanted Ground; only now they could see one another better, and the way
wherein they should walk.

Now when 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 they saw, as they thought, a
man upon his knees, with hands and eyes lifted up, and speaking, as they
thought, earnestly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell
what he said; so they went softly till he had done. When he had done, he got
up, and began to run towards the Celestial City. Then Mr. Great-Heart called
after him, saying, Soho, friend, let us have your company, if you go, as I
suppose you do, to the Celestial City. So the man stopped, 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, Prithee, who is it? It is one, said he, that
comes from whereabout I dwelt. His name is Standfast; he is certainly a
right good pilgrim.

So they came up to one another; and presently Standfast said to old Honest,
Ho, father Honest, are you there? Aye, said he, that I am, as sure 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 Honest; what could I
think? I thought we had an honest man upon the road, and therefore should
have his company by and by. If you thought not amiss, said Standfast, how
happy am I! But if I be not as I should, ‘t is 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.

VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH: Well but, brother, I pray thee tell us what was it that
was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now: was it for that some
special mercy laid obligations upon thee, or how?

STANDFAST: Why, we are, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground; and as I was
coming along, I was musing with myself of what a dangerous nature the road
in this place 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.

MR. HONEST: Then Mr. Honest interrupting him, said, Did you see the two men
asleep in the arbor?

STANDFAST: Aye, aye, I saw Heedless and Too-bold there; and for ought 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 me it was Madam
Bubble. This set me 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 gentlewoman went her way. Then I continued to give
thanks for this my

great deliverance; for I verily believe she intended no good, but rather
sought to make stop of me in my journey.

MR. HONEST: 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.

STANDFAST: Perhaps you have done both.

MR. HONEST: Madam Bubble! Is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a
swarthy complexion?

STANDFAST: Right, you hit it: she is just such a one.

MR. HONEST: Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the
end of a sentence?

STANDFAST: You fall right upon it again, for these are her very actions.

MR. HONEST: 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.

STANDFAST: ‘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.

MR. HONEST: Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that
wrote of her said true.

MR. GREAT-HEART: This woman is a witch, and it is by virtue of her sorceries
that this ground is enchanted. 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. This
is she that maintaineth in their splendor all those that are the enemies of
pilgrims. James 4:4. Yea, this is she that has bought off many a man from a
pilgrim’s life. She is a great gossiper; she is always, both she and her
daughters, at one pilgrim’s heels or another, now commending, and then
preferring the excellences 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 banqueting and
feasting mainly well; she is always at one full table or another. She has
given it out in some places that she is a goddess, and therefore some do
worship her. She has her time, and open places of cheating; and she will say
and avow it, that none can show a good comparable to hers. She promiseth to
dwell with children’s children, if they will but love her and make much of
her. She will cast out of her purse gold like dust in some places and to
some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in
the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, and she
loves them most that think best of her. She will promise to some crowns and
kingdoms, if they will but take her advice; yet many has she brought to the
halter, and ten thousand times more to hell.

STANDFAST: Oh, said Standfast, what a mercy is it that I did resist her; for
whither might she have drawn me!

MR. GREAT-HEART: 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. ‘T was she that
set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. ‘T was she
that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord; 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, betwixt 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
themselves a while to rest. And because this country was common for
pilgrims, and because the orchards and vineyards that were here belonged to
the King of the Celestial country, therefore they were licensed to make bold
with any of his things. But a little while soon refreshed them here; for the
bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sound 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 another would
answer, saying, And so many went over the water, and were let in at the
golden gates to-day! They would cry again, There is now a legion of shining
ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon
the road; for here they come to wait for them, and to comfort them after all
their sorrow. Then the pilgrims got up, and walked to and fro. But how were
their ears now filled with heavenly noises, and their eyes delighted with
celestial visions! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt
nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing that was offensive to their stomach
or mind; only when they tasted of the water of the river over which they
were to go, they thought that it tasted a little bitterish to the palate;
but it proved sweeter when it was down.

In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been
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 flowings,
and what ebbings it has had while others have gone over. It has been in a
manner dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks for others.

In this place the children of the town would go into the King’s gardens, and
gather nosegays for the pilgrims, and bring them to them with much
affection. Here also grew camphire, with spikenard and saffron, calamus and
cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all
chief spices. With these the pilgrims’ chambers were perfumed while they
stayed here; and with these were their bodies anointed, to prepare them to
go over the river, when the time appointed was come.

Now, while they lay here, and waited for the good hour, 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 of Christian the pilgrim. So
inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was. So the
post presented her with a letter. The contents were, Hail, good woman; I
bring thee tidings that the Master calleth for thee, and expecteth 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 that she was the first of
this company that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-Heart her guide,
and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the
news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. Then she bid him
that he should give advice how all things should be prepared for her
journey. So he told her, saying, Thus and thus it must be, and we that
survive will accompany you to the river-side.

Then she called for her children, and gave them her blessing, and told them
that she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and
was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their garments
so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and
commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the messenger should
come for them.

When she had spoken these words to her guide, and to her children, she
called for Mr. Valiant-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 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 weather is in my journey, I shall have time enough when I
come there to sit down and rest me and dry me.

Then came in that good man Mr. Ready-to-halt, to see her. So she said to
him, Thy travel hitherto has been with difficulty; but that will make thy
rest the sweeter. Watch, and be ready; for at an hour when you think not,
the messenger may come.

After him came Mr. Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid, to whom she
said, You ought, with thankfulness, forever to remember your deliverance
from the hands of Giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. The effect of
that mercy is, that you are brought with safety hither. Be ye watchful, and
cast away fear; be sober, and hope to the end.

Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, Thou wast delivered from the mouth of
Giant Slay-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 before him for that fault with blushing.

Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of
people to see her take her journey. But behold, all the banks beyond the
river were full of horses and chariots, which were come down from above to
accompany her to the city gate. So she came forth, and entered the river,
with a beckon of farewell to those that followed 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
entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband
Christian had entered with before her. At her departure, the children wept.
But Mr. Great-Heart and Mr. Valiant played upon the welltuned cymbal and
harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places.

In process of time there came a post to the town again, and his business was
with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired him out, and said, I am come from Him
whom thou hast loved and followed, though upon crutches; and my message is
to tell thee, that he expects thee at his table to sup with him in 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
thus he said, These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my
steps, 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, Welcome life! So he went his way.

After this, Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him that the post sounded
his horn at his chamber door. Then he came in, and told him, saying, 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 darkened.” Eccles. 12:3. Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and
told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had
received of the truth of the message. Then he said, since I have nothing to
bequeath to any, to what purpose should I make a will? As for my feeble
mind, that I will leave behind me, for that I shall have no need of it in
the place whither I go, nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrims:
wherefore, 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, 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 brought this message to him: Trembling man! these are to
summon thee to be ready with the King by the next Lord’s day, to shout for
joy 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. Ecclesiastes 12:5.

Now Mr. Despondency’s daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, when she
heard what was done, 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 ourselves in every company. My will and my
daughter’s is, that our desponds and slavish fears be by no man ever
received, from the day of our departure, forever; for I know that after my
death they will offer themselves to others. For, to be plain with you, they
are ghosts which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and
could never shake them off after; and they will walk about, and seek
entertainment of the pilgrims: but for our sakes, shut the doors upon them.
When the time was come for them to depart, they went up to the brink of the
river. The last words of Mr. Despondency were, Farewell, night; welcome,
day! His daughter went through the river singing, but none could understand
what she said.

Then it came to pass a while after, that there was a post in the town that
inquired for Mr. Honest. So he came to the house where he was, and delivered
to his hand these lines: Thou art commanded to be ready against this day
seven-night, to present thyself before thy Lord at his Father’s house. And
for a token 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 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 over-flowed its banks in some places; but Mr. Honest, in
his lifetime, had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet him there, the which
he also did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words
of Mr. Honest were, Grace reigns! So he left the world.

After this it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a
summons by the same post as the other, and had this for a token that the
summons was true, “That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.” Eccl. 12:6.
When he understood it, he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then
said he, I am going to my Father’s; and though with great difficulty I have
got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to
arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall succeed me in my
pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get it. My marks and
scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles
who will now be my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come,
many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went, he said,
“Death, where is thy sting?” And as he went down deeper, he said, “Grave,
where is thy victory?” 1 Cor. 15:55. So he passed over, and all the trumpets
sounded for him on the other side.

Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Standfast. This Mr. Standfast was he
whom the rest of the pilgrims found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground.
And the post brought it him open in his hands: the contents thereof were,
that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing
that he should be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Standfast was put
into a muse. Nay, said the messenger, you need not doubt of the truth of my
message; for here is a token of the truth thereof, “Thy wheel is broken at
the cistern.” Eccles. 12:6. Then he called to him Mr. Great-Heart, who was
their guide, and said unto him, Sir, although it was not my hap to be much
in your good company during the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since the time I
knew you, you have been profitable to me. When I came from home, I left
behind me a wife and five small children; let me entreat you, at your
return, (for I know that you go and return to your Master’s house, in hopes
that you may yet be a conductor to more of the holy pilgrims,) that you send
to my family, and let them be acquainted with all that hath and shall happen
unto me. Tell them moreover of my happy arrival at this place, and of the
present and late blessed condition I am in. Tell them also of Christian and
Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her husband.
Tell them also of what a happy end she made, and whither she is gone. I have
little or nothing to send to my family, unless it be prayers and tears for
them; of which it will suffice that you acquaint them, if peradventure they
may prevail. When Mr. Standfast had thus set things in order, and the time
being come for him to haste him away, he also went down to the river. Now
there was a great calm at that time in the river; wherefore Mr. Standfast,
when he was about half-way in, stood a while, and talked with his companions
that had waited upon him thither. And he said, This river has been a terror
to many; yea, the thoughts of it also have often frightened me; but now
methinks I stand easy; my foot is fixed upon that on which the feet of the
priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood while Israel went over
Jordan. Josh. 3:17. The waters indeed are to the palate bitter, and to the
stomach cold; yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the convoy that
waits for me on the other side, do lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see
myself now at the end of my journey; my toilsome days are ended. I am going
to see that head which was crowned with thorns, and that face which was spit
upon for me. I have formerly lived by hearsay and faith; but now I go where
I shall live by sight, and shall be with him in whose company I delight
myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of; and wherever I have seen the
print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too. His
name has been to me as a civet-box; yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His
voice to me has been most sweet, and his countenance I have more desired
than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His words I did use
to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. He hath held
me, and hath kept me from mine iniquities; yea, my steps hath he
strengthened in his way.

Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance changed; his strong man
bowed under him: and after he had said, Take me, for I come unto thee, he
ceased to be seen of them.

But glorious it was to see how the open region was filled with horses and
chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players upon stringed
instruments, to welcome the pilgrims as they went up, and followed one
another in at the beautiful gate of the city.

As for Christiana’s children, the four boys that Christiana brought, with
their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone
over. Also, since I came away, I heard one say that they were yet alive, and
so would be for the increase of the church, in that place where they were,
for a time.
_________________________________________________________________

Should it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an
account of what I here am silent about: meantime I bid my reader

FAREWELL.

THE END.