/>! 
 
 ^- 
 
 LIBRA^RY 
 
 OP THE 
 
 Theologfeal Seminary, 
 
 .PF^TnCETON, N.J. 
 
 Case, .r^ y-.^^ D.i.vision 
 
 SheJt\ I I'ZP^J Section .). 
 
 Booh, .No....." 
 
^m JOHK BUH"YAK. 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FROM THIS WORLD 
 TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. 
 
 BEtlVEHED 
 
 UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 
 
 JJ\r TWO PARTS. 
 
 BY JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 I HATE rSEO Simi.ITUSES....HOS£A xii. 10. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, DIVIDED INTO CHAPTERS. 
 
 WITH THE 
 
 LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 . TO ■WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL NOTES. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH ELEGANT ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 JK'EWARK, JV. J. 
 PUBLISHED BY BENJAMIN OLDS. 
 
 .T. AXD E. SAWDERSOSr, PRINTERS, EMZABETH-TOWW. 
 
PREFACE, 
 
 The high estimation ia which the *' Pilgrim's 
 Progress" has been held for above a century, suffi- 
 ciently evinces its intrinsic value : and there is every 
 reason to suppose, that it will be read with admiration 
 for ages to come ; probably till the consummation of all 
 things. 
 
 The pious Christian, in proportion to his " growth 
 in grac€, and the knowledge of the Lord Jesus," de- 
 rives more and more instruction from repeated peru- 
 sals of this remarkable book ; while his enlarged expe- 
 rience and extended observation enable him to unfold, 
 with progressive evidence, the full meaning of the very 
 agreeable similitudes employed by its truly ingenious 
 author. And even the careless or uninstructed reader 
 is fascinated to attention, by the simple and ardess 
 manner in which the interesting narrative is arranged. 
 Nor should this be represented as a mere amusement, 
 which answers no further purpose : for it has been ob- 
 served by men of great discernment, and acquaintance 
 with the human mind, that young persons, having pe=. 
 
IV PREPACE. 
 
 riiscd tlic Pilgrim as a pleasing talc, have gcncrall} 
 retained a remembrance of its leading incidents, which, 
 after continuing perhaps in a dormant state for several 
 years, has at length germinated, as it were, into the 
 most important and seasonable instruction, while the 
 events of their own lives placed it before their minds 
 in a new and affecting point of view. It may, there- 
 fore, be questioned, whether modern ages have produced 
 any work which has more promoted the best interests of 
 mankind. 
 
 It would not perhaps be difficult to show, that the 
 Pilgrim's Progress, as first published, is as really 
 an original production of vigorous native genius, as any 
 of those Nvorks, in prose or verse, which have excited 
 the admiration of mankind through successive ages, and 
 in different nations. It does not indeed possess those 
 ornaments which are so often mistaken for intrinsic ex- 
 cellence : but the rudeness of its style (which however 
 is characteristic of the subject) concurs to prove it a 
 most extraordinary book ; — for had it not been written 
 with very great ingenuity, a religious treatise, evidently 
 inculcating doctrines yet disesteemed by the unenlighten- 
 ed mind, it \\ould not, in so homely a garb, have so 
 durably attracted the attention of a polished age. Yet, 
 it is undeniable that Bunyan's Pilgrim continues to 
 be read and admired by vast multitudes ; while publi- 
 cations on a similar plan, by persons of respectable 
 learning and talents, arc consigned to almost total neg- 
 lect and oblivion ! 
 
 This is not, however, that view of the work which 
 entitles it to highest honour, or most endears it to the 
 pious mind : for, comparnig it with the other prodirc- 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 tions of the same author, (which are indeed edifying to 
 the humble beUever, but not so much suited to the 
 taste of the ingenious) we shall be led to conclude, that 
 in perusing this he was highly favoured with a peculiar 
 measure of the divine assistance ; especially when we 
 recollect, that, within the confines of a gaol, he was 
 able so to delineate the Christian's course, with its vari- 
 ous difficulties, perils, conflicts, &c. that scarcely any 
 thing seems to have escaped his notice. Indeed, the 
 accurate observer of the church in his own days, and 
 the learned student of ecclesiastical history, must be 
 equally surprised to find, that hardly one remarkable 
 character, good or bad, or mixed in any manner or 
 proportion imaginable ; or that one fatal delusion, by- 
 path, or injurious mistake, can be singled out, which 
 may not be paralleled in the Pilgrim's Progress : 
 that is, as to the grand outlines ; for the minutice^ 
 about which too many narrow minds waste their zeal, 
 are with very few exceptions wisely passed over. This 
 circumstance is surprising ; that every part of this sin- 
 gular book suits the various descriptions of such as 
 profess godliness ; and relates the experiences, tempta- 
 tions, conflicts, supports, and consolations of Christians 
 in our own times, as exactly as if it had been penned 
 from the observation of them, and for their immediate 
 benefit : while, like the sacred Scriptures, it remains a 
 sealed book to all who are strangers to the power of god- 
 liness, and that peace xvhich passeth understanding. 
 
 These remarks may l^e very properly concluded with 
 the words of a justly admired poet of the present day% 
 who in the following lines has fully sanctioned all that has 
 been here advanced — = 
 
VI rjREFACE. 
 
 " O lliou, whom, borue oa fancy's eager wiug 
 Back to the season of life's happy spring, 
 I pleas'd remember, and while mem'ry yet 
 Holds fast her oflTice here, can ne'er forget, 
 logeoious dreamer, in whose well-told tale 
 Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevail, 
 Whose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style, 
 May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile, 
 Witly, and well eniploy'd, and like thy Lord, 
 Speaking in parables his slighted word. 
 I name thee not, lest so despis'd a name 
 Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame ; 
 Yet ev'u in transitory life's late day 
 That mingles all my brown Avith sober gray, 
 Revere the man, whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
 And guides the Progress of the soul to God. 
 'Twere well with most, if books that could engage 
 Their childhood, pleas'd them at a riper age ; 
 The man approving what had charm'd the boy, 
 Would die at last, in comfort, peace, and joy, 
 And not with curses on his art who stole 
 The gem of truth from his unguarded soul." 
 
 COWPER, TIROCINIUM, V. 1 2i). 
 
 In resjX'Ct to the present edition of tlic Pilgrim'^ 
 Progress, it may be proper to observe, that tlie Notes, 
 explanatory and practical, are selected from those publi- 
 cations, knoAvn to have been edited by the celebrated re- 
 verend Messrs. Mason, Scott, and Border : to the inge- 
 nuity of the latter is the present \vork indebted for that 
 excellent plan, the divisioti by chapters. — Great pains 
 have been taken to examine every scriptural reference, 
 in order to render this edition as correct as possible. — 
 The author's marginal references seemed so essential a 
 
PREFACE, VU 
 
 part of the work, that it was deemed indispensably re- 
 quisite to insert them in their places. But as the other 
 marginal notes are only useful in pointing out any pas- 
 sage in tlie text, to which the reader might wish to refer ; 
 it was thought most adviseable to supply their place by 
 a running title on the top of every page, conve}'ing as 
 nearly as possible the same ideas : for, indeed, they so 
 encumber the page, and break in upon the uniformity of 
 printing, that all hopes of elegance must be precluded 
 while they are retained. 
 
 To render the Pilgrim's Progress of still greater 
 use, this edition is presented to the public in a form 
 entirely new. The work is divided into distinct sec- 
 tions, of convenient length ; the design of which is to 
 oblige the reader to make a frequent pause : for so en- 
 tertaining is the narrative, that the heart becomes in- 
 terested in the event of every transaction, and is tempt- 
 ed to proceed with a precipitation that excludes proper 
 reflections : so that it may be justly feared that thou- 
 sands have read it with no other advantage than tem- 
 porary amusement, without the least conception of its 
 spiritual design. 
 
 Several ministers have thought it a pleasing and pro- 
 fitable exercise, to read and explain the Pilgrim to 
 their people in private meetings. Should any into 
 whose hands this edition may come, think proper to 
 pursue such a method, they will find some assistance 
 from the division of chapters made ready to their hand, 
 as well as by some hints which possibly might not have 
 occurred to them. 
 
 It is also submitted to the consideration of heads of 
 families, whether the Pilgrim, in this form, mav not 
 
Vlll J'KEFACi.. 
 
 be well adapted for the purpose of reading to their chil- 
 dren and servants on Lord's-day evenings. The subject 
 matter is so entertaining, that the attention of all would 
 be secured ; and the practical improvements might tend, 
 by the blessing of God, to enlighten their minds in the 
 grand truths of the gospel of Christ. 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 The whole compass of biography exhibits not a 
 character more interesting, than that of a man convert- 
 ed from singular depravity of manners, to eminent pie- 
 ty ; and raised from the deepest obscurity, to be an au- 
 thor celebrated for genius, and uncommonly useful to 
 mankind. Such was the excellent writer of the Pil- 
 grim's Progress. 
 
 John Bun y an was born at Elstow, within a mile of 
 Bedford, in the year 1628. His descent was, as him- 
 self expresses it, of a " low and inconsiderable genera- 
 tion," his father being an itinerant tinker, and his mother 
 of the like rank. They gave him the best education in 
 their power, which was common reading and writing, 
 of which he afterwards made a very excellent use ; but 
 for the present he gave himself up to the most execrable 
 vices, particularly *' cursing, swearing, lying, and blas- 
 pheming the holy name of God." 
 
 During this period he was not without considerable 
 checks of conscience. At but nine or ten years of age, 
 in the midst of his sports and childish vanities, he was 
 often distressed, both by day and night. For even in 
 his sleep he was terrified with " apprehensions of devils 
 and v/icked spirits," and " of the fearful torments of 
 
 o . 
 
10 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAK". 
 
 hell-fire," insomuch that he sometimes \\ishcd liimself to 
 he a de\ il to torment others, that thereby (as he ignorantly 
 lioixxl) he might escape being tormented by them. 
 
 These terrors Mere but ])artial and temporary re- 
 straints upon his conduct, and by no means cured him 
 of his delight in sin, or of his aversion to true religion. 
 He mentions it, however, as a remarkable circumstance 
 in his experience, that though he delighted in his own 
 sins and those of his wicked companions, '* it made his 
 lieart ache" to hear profane language from people re- 
 putedly religious, and to see the ^\•icked actions of per- 
 sons professing godliness. 
 
 The early part of Mr. Bunyan's life was also at- 
 tended ^\'ith some hair- breadth escajDcs from danger- 
 ous accidents. At one time he fell into the river 
 Ouse ; at another into a creek of the sea ; in a third 
 instance he escaped tlie bite of .an adder, and (after 
 wounding it) drew out its sting widi his fingers ; but 
 the most remarkable instance \\as the lbllo\\ing : 
 while a soldier in the Parliament army in 1645, he was 
 draughted for the siege of Leicester, but another, de- 
 siring to change with him, took his place, and was shot 
 through the head with a musket-ball, while standing 
 sentinel. 
 
 Soon after this he man'ied a young woman poor as 
 himself ; for they had not, lie says, " so much house- 
 hold-stuff as a spoon or dish between them." But 
 she had been blessed widi a religious education, and 
 brought for her marriage-portion two small de\otional 
 tracts, " The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," and 
 " The Practice of Piety." These books Bunyan re- 
 peatedly read ; and though they wxre not the means of 
 his conversion, they had such an effect on him, that he 
 was willing to " do many things," and gi\e up some of 
 his outward vices. 
 
 At this period he received a considerable check of 
 conscience under one of the sermons he heard at 
 cliurch on sabbath-breaking, to which he was nuich ad- 
 
THE LIFE OF. JOHN BUNYAIf. 11 
 
 tlicted ; but this conviction he shook out of his mind, 
 and the same afternoon returned to his usual Sunday 
 sports, when the following incident happened, which 
 shall be related in his own words : 
 
 " The same day, as I was in the midst of a game of 
 cat, and having struck it one blow from the hole, just 
 as I was about to strike a second time, a voice did sud- 
 denly dart from heaven into my soul, which said, ' Wilt 
 thou leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have thy sins 
 and go to hell ?' At this I was put to an exceeding 
 amaze ; wherefore, leaving my cat upon the ground, 
 I looked up to heaven, and was as if I had, with the eyes 
 of my understanding, seen the Lord Jesus looking down 
 upon me, as being very hotly displeased with me, and 
 as if he did severely threaten me with some grievous 
 punishment for these and other ungodly practices. 
 
 " I had no sooner thus conceived in my mind, but 
 suddenly this conclusion was fastened on my spirit, that 
 I had been a great and grievous sinner, and that it was 
 now too late for me to look after heaven. Then I felt 
 my heart sink in despair, and therefore I resolved to go 
 on in sin : For, thought I, if the case be thus, my state 
 is surely miserable : miserable if I leave my sins, and 
 but miserable if I follow them. I can but be damned ; 
 and if I must be so, I had as good be damned for many 
 as for few. 
 
 " Thus I stood in the midst of mj- play before all 
 that then were present : yet I told them nothing ; but, 
 having made this conclusion, I returned desperately to 
 my sport again : and I well remember, that presently 
 this kind of despair did so possess my soul, that I was 
 persuaded I could never attain to other comfort than 
 what I should get in sin : wherefore I found within me 
 great desire to take my fill of sin, still studying what 
 sin was yet to be committed, that I might taste the 
 s^veetness of it, lest I should die before I had my de- 
 sires. In these things I protest before God, I lie not ; 
 these were really, strongly, and with all my heart my 
 
12 JUL HIE 01- JOHN BUN Y AN. 
 
 desires : the good Lord, whose mercy is unsearchable ^ 
 lbri^i\e me my transgressions !" 
 
 Thus Bunyan went on sinning greedily for about u 
 month or more, till one day, as he was standing at a 
 neighbour's shop-window, and " there cursing and swear- 
 ing, and playing the madman" (as he expresses it) after 
 his' usual manner, the ^voman of the house, though a 
 loose and irreligious person, reproved him very severely, 
 protesting he was " the ungodliest fellow for swearing" 
 she had ever heard, and enough to spoil all the youth in 
 the whole town. 
 
 This reproof, coming from such a woman, silenced 
 and shamed him ; nay more, it even cured him of that 
 detestable vice ; and his remark on this circumstance 
 is well worthy the attention of profane and customary' 
 swearers :* " How it came to pass (sa}s he,) I know 
 not, I did from this time forward so lea^ e m}- swearing, 
 that it was a great wonder to myself to obser\e it ; and 
 whereas before I knew not how to speak unless I put an 
 oath before and another behind, to make my w ords have 
 authority, now I could, ^vithout it, speak better and with 
 more pleasantness than I could before." 
 
 Soon after this he fell into company ^vith a poor, reli- 
 gious man, that spake pleasantly of religion and of the 
 scriptures , which so delighted Bunyan, that he betook 
 liimself to his Bible, and found great pleasure in read- 
 ing the historical and more entertaining parts of it. 
 This carried his reformation one step farther. He be- 
 came now conscientiously moral ; his accjuaintance 
 reckoned him very godly and religious ; and himself 
 thought that he " pleased God as well as any man in 
 England." 
 
 • Similar to this, was a remarkable circumstance in the Tife of Mr. Perkins, an 
 able minister of the (gospel. While a younp; man, and a scholar at Cambridge, 
 lie was divotcd to (h-iiiikenness. As he was walking in the skirts of the town, he 
 heaifl a woman say to a child tliat was froward and j)eevish, " Hold your tongue, 
 or I will give you to drunken Perkins yonder." Finding himself become a by-wor«i 
 atnong the jieople, his conscience was deeply impressed, and it was the first sU]> 
 towards his couTersion, 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 13 
 
 Bunyan's two favourite amusements were ringing and 
 dancing ; these now appeared inconsistent with the 
 character he had assumed, and therefore must be rehn- 
 quished, though reluctantly and by degrees : they were 
 like the extinction of a right eye, or the excision of a 
 right hand. 
 
 All this time, however, he was building upon a 
 wrong foundation : being " ignorant of God's right- 
 eousness," he went about to establish his own ; and 
 had no suspicion that he was in an error, till one day y 
 he overheard three or four poor women in Bedford dis- 
 coursing on religious subjects. He was much sur- 
 prised to hear them talk of conviction, the new birth, 
 the sweetness of the promises, and die power of temp- 
 tation, of the depravity of their own hearts, and of their 
 unbelief ; and to hear them bitterly contemn " their 
 own righteousness as filtliy, and insufficient to do tliem 
 any good." " They also spake (as he expresses it) 
 with such pleasantness of scripture language, and with 
 such appearance of grace in all they said, that they 
 were to him as if they had found a ne^v world ; as if 
 they were ' people that dwelt alone, and not reckoned 
 among the nations.' " [a) 
 
 These topics were not only new to him, but in a 
 great measure unintelligible ; and he was led first to 
 suspect, and afterwards to condemn himself, as a vain 
 babbler and a hypocrite ; as wanting the " true tokens 
 of a godly man," and as a stranger to those pleasures 
 which he found these good people had experienced. 
 This conviction induced him to seek repeated oppor- 
 tunities of their company, and the more he enjoyed of 
 their conversation, the more earnestly he desired it. 
 The various branches of christian experience, and the 
 important truths of scripture, now engaged his whole 
 attention, and he found it as difficult then to brina: his 
 
 (o) Num. xxiii. 9. 
 
14 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 rnind from heaven to cartli, as, at sonic other times, to 
 elevate his mind from earth to lieaven. 
 
 Before his conversion, Bunyan had formed a strong 
 attachment to a young man of very loose morals, whose 
 acquaintance he now found it necessary to drop ; JDut 
 meeting with him a few months afterwards, and asking 
 him how he did, the other replied in his usually ^vild 
 and profane language. " But, Harry^ (said Bunyan,) 
 why do you swear and curse thus ?" The otlier replied 
 in a great rage — " What would the devil do for com- 
 pany, if it were not for such as I am ?" 
 
 About this time Mr. Bunyan met ^vith some books 
 written by the ranters of that age, \vho were a set of 
 practical, as well as theoretical, antinomians. Their 
 leading maxims seem to have been, (when fairly ex- 
 pressed,) those diabolical ones mentioned by St. Paul — 
 *' Let us do evil, that good may come : — let us sin, 
 that grace may abound." 
 
 About this time he began to read the scripture 
 " with new eyes," and as he had never done before ; -x 
 especially St. Paul's epistles, which Avere now very de- r 
 lightful, though formerly they had much offended and V 
 disgusted him. In short, the Bible became his con- ^ 
 stant companion, and he was (as he says) " never out 
 of it, either by reading or meditation ;" constantly 
 crying to God, that he might know the truth, and fol- 
 low it. 
 
 A fresh difficulty however occurred. Reading in 
 the New Testament, of the vm-ious extraordinary gifts 
 of the Spirit, wisdom, knowledge, faith, Sec. he was 
 particularly stumbled at the latter ; and, misunder- 
 standing some of our Lord's words on that sub- 
 ject, (a) he was tempted to try to work a miracle to 
 prove his faith. One day, in paaticular, walking be- 
 tween Elstow and Bedford, it was strongly suggested 
 
 (a) Matt. xvU. 20. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 15 
 
 lo him to bid the puddle " be dry," and to say to 
 the dry places, " Be you puddles." But just as he 
 was about to speak, the thought came into his mind, 
 to go under the. hedge to pray that God would enable 
 him. On the other hand it occurred to him, that if he 
 tried and could not effect it, it would discount ge and 
 sink him into deep despair. For this reason he* prudently 
 declined it. 
 
 While his mind was thus agitated between hope and 
 fear, he had what he calls " a kind of vision," respect- 
 ing the good people of Bedford, which is th.us related 
 in his own words : " I saw, as if they were on the sun- 
 ny side of some high mountain, there refreshing them- 
 selves ^\ith the pleasant bci^ms of the sun, while I was 
 shivering and shrinking in the cold, afflicted with frost, 
 snow, and dark clouds : methought also, betwixt me 
 and them I saw a wall that did compass about this 
 mountain ; now through this wall my soul did greatly 
 desire to pass, concluding that, if I could, I would even 
 go in the very midst of them, and there also comfort m}-- 
 self with the heat of their sun. 
 
 " About this wall I thought myself to go again and 
 again, still prying as I went, to see if 1 could find 
 some way or passage, by which I might enter there- 
 in. But none could I find for some time. At the last 
 I saw, as it were, a narrow gap, like a little door-\vav 
 in the wall, through which I attempted to pass ; now 
 tlie passage being very strait and narrow, I made many 
 offers to get in, but all in vain. At last, with great 
 striving, methought I at first did get in my head, and 
 after that by a sideling striving my shoulders, and after 
 that my whole body. Then was 1 exceeding glad, Avent 
 and sat down in the midst of them, and so was comforted 
 with the light and heat of their sun. 
 
 " Now this mountain and wall, &:c. was made thus 
 out to me : the mountain signified the church of the 
 liA'ing God ; the sun that shone thereon, the comfortable 
 shining of his merciful face on them that were therein : 
 
16 THE LIFt OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 the wall I thought was the world, that did make separa- 
 tion between the Christians and the world ; and the gap 
 which Avas in the wall I thought was Jesus Christ, who is 
 the way to God the Father, {a) But forasmuch as the 
 passage was wonderful naiTow, even so narrow that I 
 could not, but with great difficulty, enter thereat, it 
 showed n\e none could enter into life, but those that 
 ^\■cre in downright earnest." 
 
 This vision, whatever it was, abode much upon his 
 mind, gave him an ardent desire to enjoy the sunshine 
 ; of the divine presence, and excited him to cry mightily 
 i to God for it. 
 
 ^ A variety of temptations succeeded these ; but with 
 
 k; e^ cry temptation the Lord made a way for his escape. 
 * At length he began to break his mind to the good people 
 ^ of Bedford, and they introduced him to their minister, 
 ' ^ Mr. Gifford, who invited him to mingle ^^•ith those seri- 
 ous persons that I'requented his house ; and to listen to 
 the experience of others, in order to enlarge his own. 
 
 He now acquired a deeper acquaintance with the 
 human heart, its inward con-uptions and unbelief ; evils 
 which he felt so strongly working in himself, that he 
 thought it impossible he should be already con^•erted, 
 and iiad little hopes that he ever should. His spiritual 
 conflicts, therefore, increased ratlier than diminished, 
 insomuch that he compares himself to the possessed e/ii/dy 
 Ijrought b}' his parent to Jesus Christ, who, while he was 
 vet coming to him, was thrown down by the devil, and 
 cruelly torn by him. (/;) 
 
 Bunyan observes here, as a sign that his convic- 
 tions Avere of the right sort, that they made him ver}* 
 conscientious ; so much so, as to tremble at the verge 
 of duty, and shudder at die approach of sin. He 
 now became (as is often the case with converts) so 
 scrupulous, Uiat he who once never spake without 
 
 {a) John xiv. C. Malt. vii. 14. (ft) Luke is. 42. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 17 
 
 an oath, v*-as afraid to speak at all, lest he should speak 
 idly, or misplace his words. 
 
 He was not, however, so entirely taken up with 
 his own feelings,- as totally to neglect observation upon 
 those around him. The following remarks, as they 
 cannot easily be better expressed, shall be given in his 
 own words : 
 
 " While I was thus afflicted with the fears of my 
 own damnation, there were two things would make me 
 wonder : the one was, when 1 saw old people hunting 
 after the things of this life, as if they should live here 
 always : the other was, when I found professors much 
 distressed and cast down, when they met with outward 
 losses : as of husband, wife, child, &c. Lord, thought 
 I, what ado is here about such little things as these ? 
 What seeking after carnal things by some, and what 
 grief in others for the loss of them ! If they so much 
 labour after, and shed so many tears for, the things of 
 this present life, how am I to be bemoaned, pitied, and 
 prayed for ! My soul is dying, my soul is damning. 
 Were my soul but in a good condition, and were I but 
 sure of it, ah ! how rich would I esteem myself though 
 blessed with bread and water ! I should count those 
 but small afflictions, and should bear them as little 
 burdens. ' A wounded spirit who can bear ?' " 
 
 Painful as he felt his convictions, yet w^as he at times 
 fearful of their dying away, or being removed by im- 
 proper means ; because he had observed persons in 
 similar distress, who, when their troubles wore away, 
 or were improperly removed, became more carnal, and 
 more hardened in wickedness, than before. That 
 scripture lay much upon his mind, " Without shed- 
 ding of blood there is no remission; "(a) and he was 
 led to cry earnestly to the Lord, that he might be de- 
 livered from " an evil conscience," only by the sprink^ 
 ling of atoning blood. 
 
 (a) Heb. ix. 22. 
 
 3 
 
V 
 
 IS THE LIFE OF JOHN" BUNVAX. 
 
 At length the time of his dcUvcrance approached^, 
 and he received his first consolation through a sermon 
 on those words of Solomon, " Behold, thou art fair, 
 my love."(«) This reached Bunyan's case, aflbrded 
 him " strong consolation,'- and gave him a happy in- 
 terval of joy and triumph in the Lord : but his tri- 
 umph was of short duration : the enemy returned to 
 the charge \vith double force, reattacked him with in- 
 creased malice, and he was now tempted to question 
 the first principle and ground-work of all religion, the 
 very being of a God. Or, admitting this, said the spi- 
 rit of infidelity, " How can you tell but the Turks 
 have as good scriptures to prove their INlaliomet to be 
 the Saviour, as we have to prove our Jesus ? Kvery' 
 one thinks his own religion right, Jews, Moors, and 
 Pagans ! and what if all our faith, and Christ, and 
 scriptures, should be no more !" • 
 
 These sceptical suggestions were accompanied with 
 i^ strong temptations to immorality and profaneness — 
 even to curse God, and to blaspheme his Son. For 
 infidelit}' and profaneness are of near neighbourhood, 
 and the arch-enemy of mankind knows how to accele- 
 rate the course of sinners from one unto the other. 
 
 Sometimes he attempted to reason with his tempta- 
 tions, but under great disadvantages, for want of his 
 being acquainted with the external evidences of Chris - 
 tianit}'. The principal check his doubts received was 
 from an internal principle, which rejected and disrelished 
 them. At length it pleased God, howe\cr, to per- 
 mit him for a time to sink again into despondency ; and, 
 at intervals, he feared that his senses would have left 
 him ; at other times he thought himself possessed by 
 the devil. 
 
 But the sorest trial of this period of his life, ^vas 
 a temptation to commit the unpardonable sin against 
 the Holy Ghost , this he was prompted even to povet 
 the opportunity of committing, though the new prin- 
 
 ((.) Cimt. iv. I. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHX BUNYAN. 19 
 
 ciple within him so revolted at the suggestion, that he 
 forcibly closed his mouth with his hands, lest the fatal 
 blasphemy should escape him. 
 
 This temptation lasted about a year, and was at- 
 tended one while, with peculiar insensibility, and at 
 other times with such distractions in duty as frustrated 
 his attempts to pray ; and so much was his mind con- 
 vulsed by it, that sometimes he thought he even felt cne 
 behind him pulling his clothes, to stop hirn when he 
 began to pray. 
 
 It is unnecessary, and might appear tedious, to relate 
 all the temptations%vith which this good man was agita- 
 ted, during this period ; it is, however, proper to observe, 
 that they were not without some allays of comfort ; his 
 cup was bitter, but mixed with some pleasant ingre- 
 dients ; or, to speak without a figure, he had intervals of 
 consolation ; many precious promises were applied, and 
 he was at some times as much elevated with joy, as he 
 was at others depressed with grief. 
 
 It is also worthy of observation, that during this time 
 lie enjoyed the advantages of sitting under the ministry 
 of good Mr. Gilford, (an ancestor of the late learned 
 Dr. Gilford,) an evangelical and useful minister at Bed- 
 ford ; whose advice appears to have been very judi- 
 cious and salutary. " He would bid us take special 
 heed, (says Bunyan,) that we took not up any truth 
 upon trust ; as from this or that man ; but pray to God 
 that he would convince us of the reality thereof by his 
 Spirit in the word : for (said he,) otherwise, when 
 temptations come, not having received them with evi- 
 dence from heaven, you \\'ill find the v/ant of that help 
 and strength to resist, which once you thought you 
 had." This advice was very seasonable to Bunyan, 
 who betook himself to the scriptures, and to prayer ; 
 and there found, as every simple honest inquirer doubt- 
 less will, all the satisfaction which he desired. He re- 
 marks also, that the sense he had of the e\ il of sin, was of 
 use to keep him steady in the truth, by discovering his 
 
20 J^HE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 absolute need of a Saviour, and exactly such a Saviour 
 as the New Testament reveals. 
 
 About this time he met ^ith Martin Luther up- 
 on the Galatians, and was much struck with the simi- 
 larity of his experience \\\\.\\ that of the good old re- 
 former ; and to find him describe so nearly the vari- 
 ous temptations and conflicts which he had felt. He 
 also recei\'ed from this book considerable light into 
 the gospel scheme of redemption, and esteemed it, 
 next to the Bible, the most valuable book he had ever 
 met ^\•ith. 
 
 No^v again he began to rejoice and triumph : no\v he 
 began to sing with the Psalmist, " My mountain stands 
 strong ; I shall never be removed. "(«) He found, how- 
 ever, this was but a short truce in his warfare ; and that 
 these comforts were only to support and strengthen him 
 for future conflicts. 
 
 The next trial which beset him was a truly diabo- 
 lical one — " it was to sell Christ, to exchange him for 
 the things of this life, for any thing." And those 
 words, " Sell him, sell him," would be impressed upon 
 his thoughts an hundred times running, for hours toge- 
 ther, and that during a succession of many \\'eeks. It 
 may well be supposed he ])ra}ed and strove against this 
 temptation ; at last he found nothing so much relieve 
 him as answering the enemy in his own way, as fast as 
 liis temptations \vere repeated — " I will not,' I will not, 
 I \\\\\ not ; no, not for thousands, thousands, thousands, 
 thousands of worlds!" At length, after much striving, 
 he felt the thought pass througii liis heart, as he ex- 
 presses it — '' Let him go if he will :'' and he imagin- 
 ed also that, for the moment, it had his free consent. 
 " Now, (says our author) was the battle won ; and down 
 fell I, as a bird that is shot from the top of a tree, into 
 great guilt and fearful despair." And this continued un- 
 
 (a) Psalru xxx, 6, 7. 
 
' THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 21 
 
 tU he was at length relieved with that comfortable 
 word, " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from 
 
 all sin."(«) 
 
 During the above period the tempter assaulted him 
 in a manner that some persons have jested with, 
 though it was no jest to Bunyan. In short, he tells 
 us his enemy would not let him eat his food in quiet : 
 but " forsooth, (says he,) when I was set at my table 
 at any meat, I must go hence to pray ; I must leave 
 my food now, and just now ; so counterfeit holy 
 would this devil be ! When I was thus tempted, I 
 "would say in myself, ' Now I am at my meat, let 
 me make an end.' — ' No, (said he,) you must do it 
 now, or you will displease God, and despise Christ.' " 
 And when he omitted to obey this temptation, his con- 
 science smote him, as if he had refused to leave his meat 
 for God. 
 
 We have already mentioned the consolation he re- 
 ' ceived from a sense of the efficacy of atoning blood ; 
 on this occasion it seemed to him " as if the tempter 
 did leer and steal away from him as ashamed of what 
 he had done :'' but this modest fit of the devil was of 
 short duration ; he soon recollected his usual effrontery, 
 and returned with a more serious and alarming tempta- 
 tion. In short, he now tempted him to believe that he 
 had committed that unpardonable sin, the sin against 
 the Holy Ghost \{h) and that his case was like Esau's, 
 after he had sold his birthright, " when he would have 
 inherited the blessing, he was rejected ; for he found no 
 place for repentance, though he sought it carefully with 
 tears, "(c) 
 
 These passages have given so much pain and uneasi- 
 ness to others beside Bunyan, that it may not be an un- 
 profitable digression, to bestow a short explanation on 
 them, in hopes it may be of use to such as may in future 
 be attacked Avith the like temptations. 
 
 fa) 1 John i. r. (5) Mark iii. 29. (c) Heb. xil. XT. 
 
22 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 Di^'incs seem now pretty well agreed, that an en- 
 lightened understanding and a malicious heart must 
 meet in the same person, to constitute a capacit}' of 
 committing the unpardonable sin. Thus it has been 
 supposed, that if Peter had denied his master with the 
 same malice that Paul persecuted him ; or, if Paul had 
 persecuted Jesus with the same conviction of his divi- 
 nity as Peter had received when he denied him — either 
 would have committed the im pardonable sin. The in- 
 stances of this union of knowledge and hatred are so 
 few, that we may reasonably hope sinners of this class 
 are far from numerous : the most awful appearance of 
 it seems to be in those malicious Pharisees, A\ho wil- 
 fully shut their eyes against the evidences of Christ's 
 mission, and attributed all his miracles to the agency of 
 Beelzebub. 
 
 The case of Esau has also been much misunderstood : 
 the place he sought for repentance \\as not in his own, 
 but his father's mind, as appears by the history ; that is, 
 lie sought to revoke his father's blessing. 
 
 The supposition, however, tliat he had committed 
 the unpardonable sin, had such an effect on Bunyan, 
 that it not only distressed his mind, but made his very 
 body tremble for many days together ; and produced 
 such a stoppage and heat at his stomach, as greatly dis- 
 ordered him. Some comfort indeed he received, at 
 intervals, from occasional reflections on the promises : 
 but the most effectual relief he met w ith was in the fol- 
 lowing extraordinary manner, w hich shall Ije related in 
 his own \\ ords : 
 
 " Once, as I was walking to and fro in a good 
 
 ^ man's shop, bemoaning myself in my sad and doleful 
 
 V state, praying also in my heart, that if this sin of 
 
 v^ mine did diflcr from that against the Holy Ghost, the 
 
 "^ Lord w ould shew it me ; and being now ready to sink 
 
 with fear, suddenly there was, as if there had rushed 
 
 in at tb.e w indow, the noise of wind upon me ; but very 
 
 pleasant, and as if I heard a voice speaking, ' l>ldst 
 
 thou ever refuse to be justified by the blood of Clirist V 
 
THE LIFE Of JOHN BUNYAN. 23 
 
 And withal my whole life of profession past, was in a 
 moment opened to mc ; wherein I was made to see, 
 that designedly I hid not ; so my heart answered 
 groaningly, ' No.'- Then fell, with power, that word 
 of God upon me, ' See that ye refuse rot him that 
 spcaketh.'(a) This made a strange seizure upon my 
 spirit : it brought light with it, and commanded a si- 
 lence in my heart. It shewed me, also, that Jesus 
 Christ had yet a word of grace and mercy for me ; yea, 
 this was a kind of threatenmg of me, if I did not, not- 
 withstanding my sins, and the heinousness of them, 
 venture my salvation upon the Son of God. But as 
 to my determining about this strange dispensation, 
 what it was, I know not ; or from whence it came I 
 know not : I have not yet, in twenty years time, been 
 able to make a judgment of it : I thought then what 
 here I should be loth to speak. But \ eriiy that sudden 
 rushing wind was, as if an angel had come upon me ; 
 *but both it and the salvation I will leave until the day 
 of judgment : only this I say, it commanded a great 
 calm in my soul ; it persuaded me there m>ight be hope ; 
 it shewed me, as I thought, what the sin inipardonable 
 was, and that my soul had yet the blessed privilege 
 to flee to Jesus Christ for mercy. This lasted in the 
 savour of it for about three or four days : and then I 
 began to mistrust and to despair again." 
 
 In this situation Bunyan found his mind strongly im- 
 pelled to private prayer, which, when the tempter per- 
 ceived, he endeavoured to persuade him that it was 
 710W too late ; that having denied and rejected Christ, 
 it was only adding sm to sin, and farther provocation 
 to his crimes. His case was desperate ; but he resolved 
 that if he perished it should be " at the foot of Christ 
 in prayer." 
 
 About this time he took an opportunity to break 
 his mind to an aged Christian. " I told him, (says he,) 
 
 (a) Heb. xii. 25; 
 
:24 THE LIFE or JOHN BUN Y AN. 
 
 that I ^vas afraid I had sinned tlie sin against the 
 Holy Ghost. He told me he thought so too." Here 
 therefore he had but cold comfort ; and talking farther 
 with him, found him, though a good man, a stranger 
 to such severe spiritual conflicts. He therefore went to 
 God again, and reiterated his cries for mercy ; though 
 as yet with little comfort, because the hour of his deli- 
 verance was not fully come. 
 
 In this interval he walked to a neighbouring town, 
 where sitting to rest himself upon a settle in the street, 
 he fell into a deep pause upon his state : after long mu- 
 sing he lifted up his head : " But methought, (says he,) 
 I saw as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did 
 grudge to give light ; and as if the very stones in the 
 street, and tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves 
 against me : methought that they all combined toge- 
 ther to banish me out of the world ; 1 w as abhorred 
 of them, and unworthy to dwell among them, or to be 
 partaker of their benefits, because 1 had sinned against 
 the Saviour. O how happy now was e\'ery creature 
 over me ! for they stood fast, and kept their station, but 
 I \vas gone and lost. 
 
 " Then breaking out in the bitterness of my soul, I 
 said to my soul, with a grievous sigh, ' How can God 
 comfort such a Avretch as I am ?' 1 had no sooner 
 said it, but this returned upon me, as an echo doth 
 answer a voice, ' This sin is not unto death. '(a) At 
 which I was as if I had been raised out of the gra\e, 
 and cried out again, ' Lord, how couldst thou find out 
 such a word as this?' For I was filled with admiration 
 at the fitness and at the unexpectedness of the sentence : 
 the power, and sweetness, and light, and glor}-, that 
 came w ith it also, was marvellous to me to find. Now, 
 thought I, if this sin is not unto death, then it is 
 pardonable ; therefore from this I have cncourage- 
 
 (a) 1 JoLn V. 10, IT, 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 25 
 
 ment to come to God by Christ for mercy, as well as 
 others." 
 
 The comfort of this word was not, however, of long 
 duration, any more than the preceding. Within two 
 or three days he began to droop again ; but, again and 
 again was revived with the application of some or 
 other of the promises of the Gospel. These repeated 'jl^ 
 temptations made him more attentive and scrupulous 
 in examining the ground of his consolations, lest he Ij 
 should deceive himself with a misapplication of the 
 promises. Thus his mind continued for weeks, and 
 months, and in the whole for years, " hanging (so he 
 expresses it,) as in a pair of scales ; sometimes up and 
 sometimes down ; now in peace, and anon again in ter- 
 ror ;" not, however, so extreme as he had felt before ; 
 for this was but the hinder part of the tempest : " the 
 thunder (says he) was gone beyond me, only some 
 drops did still now and then fall on me ; but because 
 my former frights and anguish were sore and deep ; 
 therefore it oft befell me still, as it befalleth those that 
 have been scared with fire, I thought every voice was 
 Fire/ Fire P' 
 
 At length his chains were loosed, his irons knocked 
 oif, and those alarming scriptures ceased to trouble 
 him. As he saw farther into the nature and spirit of 
 the Gospel, he felt the ground of his dependance more 
 secure, and was in the end made an extraordmary in- 
 strument of comforting others with the same consola- 
 tions which he had himself received. But, before we 
 proceed, I beg to be indulged in a few observations on 
 the preceding narrative ; and shall begin with Mr. Bun- 
 yan's own reflections. 
 
 1. On the causes of his extraordinary temptations. 
 These he considers as principally two, which shall be 
 related in his own simple phraseology. " The first 
 was, that I did not, when I was delivered from the 
 temptations that went before, still pray to God to keep 
 me from temptations that were to come ; for though. 
 
26 THE LIFE OF JOHN B.UNYAN. 
 
 as I can say in truth, my soul was much in pra}er before 
 this trial seized me ; yet then I prayed only, or princi- 
 pally for the removal of present troubles, and for fresh 
 discoveries of his love in Christ : which I saw afterwards 
 was not enous^h to do ; I also should have prayed, that 
 the great God would keep me from the evil that was to 
 come : according to what is written, ' Pray that } e enter 
 not into temptation.' " 
 
 " Another cau.^e of this temptation was, that I had 
 tempted God, and in this manner : Upon a time my 
 wife was great with child, and before her full time was 
 come, her pangs, as of a woman in travail, were fierce 
 and strong upon her ; even as if she would have im- 
 mediately fallen in labour, and been delivered of an 
 untimely birth. Now at this very time it was, that I 
 had been so strongly tempted to question the being of 
 God ; wherefore, as my w ife lay cr\ing by me, 1 said, 
 but with all secrecy imaginable, even thinkhig in my 
 heart, ' Lord, if now thou wilt remove this sad afflic- 
 tion from my wife, and cause that she be troubled no 
 more therewith this night, (and now were her pangs just 
 upon her,) then I shall know that thou canst discern the 
 most secret thoughts of the heart.' 1 had no sooner 
 said it in my heart, but her pangs were taken from her, 
 and she was cast into a deep sleep ; at this I greatly 
 mLirvelled ; but after a good while 1 fell to sleep also : 
 so when I awaked in the morning, it came upon me 
 again, what I had said in ni} heart the last night, and 
 liow the Lord had shewed me, that he knew my secret 
 thoughts ; which was a great astonishment unto me for 
 several ^veeks after. 
 
 " Well, about a year and a half afterwards, tliat 
 sinful thought, of ^vhich I have spoken before, v.ent 
 through my wicked heart ; even this thought, ' Let 
 Christ go if he will :' so when I A\as fallen under 
 guilt for this, the remembrance of my other thought, 
 and /)f the effect thereof, would also come upon me, 
 Avith this rebuke along with it, ' Now you nKiy see 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 27 
 
 tliat God doth know the most secret thoughts of the 
 heart.' 
 
 " And with this, that of the passages that were be- 
 twixt the Lord and his servant Gideon, fell upon my 
 spirit ; how because that Gideon tempted God Avith 
 his fleece, both wet and dry, when he should have be- 
 lieved and ventured upon his word : therefore the Lord 
 did afterwards so try him, as to send him against an 
 innumerable company of enemies ; and that too, as to 
 outward appearance, without any strength or help.(«) 
 Thus he served mc, and tliat justly ; for I should have 
 believed his word, and not have put an if to the ail-seeing 
 God." 
 
 2. Our author leads us next to remark the advan- 
 tages he derived from these painful and distressing trials ; 
 they were briefly such as these : a strong and abiding 
 conviction of the being, power, and holiness of God — 
 ,a deep experience of the value and preciousness of the 
 promises, to which he was enabled to cling and cleave, 
 as a man in immediate danger of being drowned — an 
 exceeding lively sense of the infinite mercy, grace, and 
 love of God, which was at times such, that he thinks if 
 it had abode long " it would have made him incapable 
 of business." 
 
 We must now resume our narrative, consider our 
 author as a public character, and give some account of 
 his being called to the work of the ministry, which 
 was " about five or six years" after his conversion. 
 This was first suggested, it seems, by some serious 
 and judicious members of Mr. Giffbrd's church, Avho 
 apprehended that, both from his gifts and experience, he 
 was calculated for public and eminent usefuhiess in the 
 church. 
 
 His first attempts were (as is tlie manner among 
 dissenters) in private, and to a few select hearers ; 
 
 (fl) Judges \i. 7. 
 
28 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAV. 
 
 afterwards he ventured to exhort in some of the neigh- 
 bouring \illages ; and finall}-, at the desire of the church, 
 he was solemnly set apart, with prayer and fasting, to 
 the pubhc ministry of the word. As to himself, he 
 tells us, he was enabled to see " that the Holy Ghost 
 never intended that men who have gifts and abilities 
 should bury them in the earth ; but rather did command 
 and stir up such to the exercise of their gift ; and also 
 did commend those that were apt and ready so to do : 
 *' They have addicted themselves to the ministry of the 
 saints."(«) 
 
 When it was known that Bunyan, the profane tinker, 
 had commenced a preacher of the Gospel, hearers soon 
 flocked around him to the amount of many hundreds, 
 and that from all quarters. Nor did he preach long with- 
 out visible success : many came with weeping eyes and 
 bleeding hearts, to confess their sins, and bless God for 
 him as the instrument of their conversion. At first he 
 found it hard to believe that the Lord had so highly hon- 
 oured him, but was soon constrained to join w ith them 
 in blessing and adoration. 
 
 One instance particularly worth recording, is of a 
 dissolute student of Cambridge university, who, being- 
 induced by curiosity to hear *' the tinker prate," was 
 so affected with his sermon as to become a real con- 
 vert, and, in the issue, an eminent preacher of the 
 Gospel. 
 
 The effects of this honest man's preaching were so dif- 
 ferent from what usually attended the sermons of learned, 
 ingenious, and polite preachers, that the reader may pro- 
 bably wish to hear something of the matter and method 
 of his preaching, which cannot be given better than in 
 his own plain but emphatic language. 
 
 " In my preaching of the word, I took sjKcial no- 
 tice of this one thing ; namely, that the Lord did 
 
 (a) 1 Cor. XTi. 5. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 29 
 
 lead me to begin where his word begins with sin- 
 ners ; that is, to condemn all flesh, and to open and 
 allege that the curse of God by the law doth be- 
 long to, and lay hold on all men as they come into the 
 ^vorld, because of sin. Now this part of my work I 
 fulfilled with great sense [of terror] ; for the terrors of 
 the law, and guilt for my transgressions, lay heavy on 
 my conscience. 
 
 " I went myself in chains, to preach to them in 
 chains ; and carried that fire in my own conscience 
 that 1 persuaded them to beware of. I can truly say, 
 and that without dissembling, that when I have been 17 
 to preach, I have gone full of guilt and terror, even to -^' 
 the pulpit door, and there it hath been taken off", and I 
 have been at liberty in my mind until I have done my 
 work ; and then immediately, even before I could get 
 down the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I ^vas be- 
 fore ; yet God carried me on : but surely with a strong 
 hand ; for neither guilt nor hell could take me off my 
 work. 
 
 " Thus I went on for the space of two years. After 
 which the Lord came in upon my own soul, with some 
 sure peace and comfort through Christ ; for he did give 
 me many sweet discoveries of his blessed grace through 
 him. Wherefore now I altered in my preaching (for 
 still I preached what I saw and felt ;) now therefore I 
 did much labour to hold forth Jesus Christ in all offices, 
 relations, and benefits unto the world, and did strive also 
 to discover, to condemn, and remove those false sup- 
 ports and props on which the world doth both lean, and 
 by them fall and perish. On these things also I staid 
 as long as on the other. 
 
 " After this, God led me into something of the mys- 
 tery of the union of Christ : wherefore that I discovered, 
 and shewed to them also. And when I had travelled 
 through these three chief points of the word of God, 
 about the space of five years or more, I was caught in 
 my present practice, and cast into prison; where I 
 
30 THE LIFE OF JOHN' BUNYAN. 
 
 liave lain above as long again to confirm the truth 
 by way of suffering, as I was before in testifying of it 
 according to the scrij^tures, in a way of preaching. 
 
 " When I have been preaching, I tliank God, m} 
 heart hath often, all the time of this and the other 
 exercise, with great earnestness cried to God that he 
 would m ike the word effectual to salvation : wherefore 
 I did labour so to speak, as that thereby, if it were 
 possible, the sin and person guilty might be particu- 
 larized by it. 
 
 " Also when I h.ue done the exercise, it hath gone 
 to my heart to think the word should now fall as rain 
 on stony places : still wishing, O that they who have 
 heard me speak, did but sec as 1 do, \vhat sin, death, 
 hell, and the curse of God is ! and also what the grace, 
 and love, and mercy of God is through Christ, to men 
 in such a case as they are, who are yet estranged from 
 him ! And indeed I did often say in my hciirt before 
 the Lord, that if to be hanged up presently before their 
 eyes, would be a means to awaken them, and confirm 
 them in the truth, I gladly could be contented. 
 
 " When I went first to preach the word abroad, the 
 doctors and priests of the country did open wide 
 against me : but I was persuaded of this, not to render 
 railing for railing, but to see how many of their carnal 
 professors I should convince of their miserable state by 
 the law, and of the want and worth of Christ ; for, 
 thought 1, ' This shall answer for me in time to come, 
 when they shall be for my hire before their face.'(«) 
 
 " I never cared to meddle Nvith things that ^vere 
 controverted, and in dispute among the saints, 
 and especially things of the lowest nature ; yet it 
 pleased me much to contend with great earnestness 
 lor the word of faith, and the remission of sins b}' the 
 
 (fl) Gen. XXX. 2o. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. ol 
 
 death and sufFerings of Jesus ; but, I say, as to other 
 thini^s I should but let them alone, because I saw they 
 eno-endercd strife, and because that they, neither in doing, 
 nor in leaving undone, did commend us to God to be 
 his. Besides, I saw my work before me did run into 
 another channel, even to carry an awakening word , to 
 that therefore 1 did adhere. _ ^ 
 
 " If any of those who w^ere awakened by my ministry, 
 did after that fall back, (as too many did,) 1 can truly 
 say, their loss hath been more to me, than if my own 
 child had been going to its grave. My heart hath 
 been so wrapped up in the glory of this excellent work, 
 that I counted myself more blessed and honoured of 
 God by this, than if he had made me emperor of the 
 christian world, or the lord of all the glory of the earth 
 without it ! Oh, these words ! ' He that converteth a 
 sinner from the error of his way, doth save a soul from 
 death. '(a) ' They that be wise shall shine as die bright- 
 ness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righ- 
 teousness, as the stars for ever and ever.'(/^) These, I 
 say, with many others of a like nature, have been great 
 refreshments to me. 
 
 " My great desire, in my fulfilling my ministry, was 
 to get into the darkest places of the country : yet not be- 
 cause I could not endure the light, (for I feared not to 
 shew my gospel to any,) but because I found my spirit 
 leaned most after awakening and converting work, and 
 the word that I carried did lean itself most that way also : 
 * Yea, so have I strived to preach the gospel, not where 
 Christ was named, lest 1 should build upon another man's 
 foundation. '(c) 
 
 " But in this work, as in all other, I had my tempta- 
 tions attending me ; and that of divers kinds : as some- 
 times I should be assaulted with great discouragement 
 tlierein : fearing that I should not be able to speak a 
 
 (a) James v. 20. (6) Dan. xii. 3. (c) Rom, xv. 2®. 
 
32 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAX. 
 
 ^vord at all to edification ; na}-, that I should not be able 
 to speak sense unto the people : at which times I should 
 have such a strange faintness and strengthlessncss seize 
 upon my bod}', that my legs have scarce been able to 
 carrv me to the place of exercise. 
 
 *' Sometimes again, when I have been preaching, I 
 have been violently assaulted with thoughts of blas- 
 phem^•, and strongly tempted to speak the ^\•ords with 
 my mouth before the congregation. I have also, at 
 times, even when I have begun to speak the word w ith 
 much clearness, evidence, and liberty of spcecli, yet 
 been, before the ending of that opportunity, so blinded, 
 and so estranged from the things I have been speaking, 
 and have been also straitened in m}- speech, as to ut- 
 terance before the people, that I have been as if I had 
 not know n or remembered w hat I have been about ; or 
 as if my head had been in a bag all the time of my 
 exercise. 
 
 " Asrain, when at some times I have been about to 
 preach upon a smart and searching portion of the word, 
 I ha.\e found the tempter suggest, ' What ! will you 
 preach this ? This condemns yourself ; w herefore preach 
 not of it at all ; or if you do, yet so mince it as to make 
 way for your own escape ; lest, instead of awakening 
 others, you lay that guiit upon your ow n soul as you 
 \vill never get from under.' But, I thank the Lord, I 
 have been kept from consenting to these so horrid sug- 
 gestions ; and have rather, as Samson, bowed myself 
 with all my might, to condemn sin and transgression 
 wherever I found it. 
 
 " I have also, while found in this blessed work of 
 Christ, been often tempted to pride and lifting up 
 of heart ; and though 1 diire not say I have not been 
 aftected with this, yet truly the Lord, of his pre- 
 cious mercy, hath so carried it towards me, that for 
 the most i)art I have had but small joy to give way to 
 such a thing ; for it hath been my every da\'s i)ortion, 
 to be let into the evils of mv own heart, and still made 
 
tHB LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 33 
 
 to see such a multitude of corruptions and infirmities 
 therein, that it hath caused . hanging down of the head, 
 under all my gifts and attainments." 
 
 Mr. Bunyan's imprisonment has been already men- 
 tioned. He was tried at Bedford quarter sessions in 
 1660 : and the indictment stated that " John Bunyan, 
 of the town of Bedford, labourer, had devilishly and 
 perniciously abstained from coming to church to hear 
 divine service, and was a coinmon upholder of several 
 unlawful meetings and conventicles, to the great dis- 
 turbance and distraction of the good subjects of this 
 kingdom, contrary to the laws of our sovereign lord the 
 king," &c. Not to animadvert upon the ridiculous lan- 
 guage of this indictment, (too much of the same un- 
 meaning jargon being still preserved,) the facts were not 
 legally proved ; no witnesses were produced against 
 him, but some part of his own examination was taken 
 for a confession, and recorded : and he was sentenced 
 ^o perpetual banishment, for persisting to preach, and re- 
 fusing to conform. The sentence itself was never exe- 
 cuted ; but he was very illegally detained a prisoner for 
 twelve years and an half in Bedford jail. 
 
 In the early part of his imprisonment the Lord gave 
 liim favour with the keeper of the jail, and he had many 
 indulgences, which the malice of his enemies afterwards 
 restrained from him. 
 
 There were confined in the same prison about 
 sixty other dissenters, taken at a meeting at Kaistoe, 
 in Bedfordshire, among whom were two eminent 
 preachers, Mr. Wheeler and Mr. Dunn. During his 
 confinement he employed his time, partly in writing his 
 Pilgrim's Progress, and other valuable tracts ; partly in 
 preaching to his fellow-prisoners, and others who came 
 to hear him ; and partly in making tagged laces for the 
 support of himself and family, an art he acquired after 
 he was in confinement. 
 
 As this must have been a trying season, it may be 
 worth our inquiry, in what manner his mind was sup- 
 
 5 
 
K 
 
 / 
 
 34 THE LITE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 ported and carried throut^h it, which shall be given also 
 chiefly in his own words, written (as it should seem) 
 while he was yet in prison. 
 
 " I never had in all my life so great an inlet into the 
 word of God as now. Those scrijitures that I siiw 
 nothing in before, are made in this place and state to 
 shine upon me. So that sometimes, when I ha\ e been 
 in the savour of them, I have been able ' to laugh at 
 /"^V destruction, and to fear neither the horse nor his rider.' 
 I have had sweet sights of the forgiveness of my sins 
 in this place, and of my being with Jesus in another 
 world. * O the mount Sion, the heavenly Jerusalem, 
 the innumerable company of angels, and God the judge 
 of all, and the spirits of just men made perfect,' and 
 Jesus, have been sweet unto me in this place ! I h;,ve 
 seen that here, that I am persuaded I shall never, m hile 
 in this world, be able to express. I have seen a trudi 
 in this scripture, * Whom ha\ ing not seen, )e love ; hi 
 whom, though no\v you see him not, yet believing, yc 
 rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glor}.' "(«) 
 
 For more than a year before his imprisonment, he 
 had strong forebodings of this event, and even to a 
 more fatal issue, for he feared his sufferings might 
 terminate in the gibbet, and he was at this much 
 harassed with the apprehension that in such circum- 
 stances he might be left to hnnself, to encounter the 
 temptations of the eneni}- ; and not only suftlr distress 
 himself, but dishonour also the cause of God : in tliis 
 expectation he was led to apply " to the strong for 
 strength," and it was part of his dail} petition that he 
 might be " strengthened with all miii^ht according to 
 his glorious power, unto all patience and long-suffering 
 with joy fulness. "(/() That scripture ^vas also a great 
 use to him, " VVe had the sentence of death in our- 
 
 ((0 1 Pet, i. S. (*) Col. i. 2. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. S5 
 
 selves, that we might not trust in ourselves, but in God 
 that raiseth the dead."(«) — " By this scripture (says he) 
 I was made to see, that if ever I would suffer rightly, I 
 must first pass a sentence of death upon every thing 
 properly of this life ; even to reckon myself, my wife, 
 my children, my health, my enjoyments, and all, as dead 
 to me, and myself as dead to them." 
 
 Another consideration of great weight upon his mind 
 was, how to support himself without fainting, under ap- 
 proaching trials, of w^hich he could not see the issue ; and 
 he rightlV judged, there was no method like that recom- 
 mended by St. Paul, to " look not at the things w^hich 
 are seen, but at the things which are not seen : for the 
 things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are 
 not seen are eternal !" And thus our author reasoned 
 with himself: 
 
 " If I provide only for a prison, then the whip comes 
 at unawares ; and so doth also the pillory. Again, if I 
 only provide for these, then I am not fit for banishment. 
 Further, if I conclude that banishment is the worst, 
 then if death come, I am surprised. So that I see the 
 best way to go through sufferings, is to trust in God 
 through Jesus Christ, as touching the world to come : 
 and as touching this world, to count the grave my house, 
 to make my bed in darkness, and to say to corruption, 
 * Thou art my father,' and to the worm, ' Thou art my 
 mother and sister :' that is, to familiarize these things 
 to me. 
 
 " But notwithstanding these helps, I found myself a 
 man encompassed with infirmities. The parting with my 
 wife and poor children hath often been to me, in this 
 place, as the pulling my flesh from my bones ; and that 
 not only because I am somewhat too fond of these great 
 mercies, but also because I should have often brought 
 to my mind the many hardships, miseries, and wants, 
 that my poor family was like to meet with ; especially 
 
 (a) 2 Cor. i, 9. 
 
36 THE LIFE OF JOHX B.UNVAN. 
 
 TTi}' poor Uind child, \\ ho lay nearer my heart than all 1 
 had i:)cside. Oh ! the thoughts of the hardships I 
 thought my blind one might go under, would break my 
 heart to pieces. But yet recalling myself", thought I, I 
 must venture you all with God, though it goeth to the 
 quick to leave you. But that which helped me in this 
 temptation, was, * Leave thy fatherless children, I will 
 preser\e them ali\e ; and let thy wido\\s trust in me :' 
 and again, ' The Lord said, \^erily it shall go well with 
 thy remnant ; verily I will cause the enemy to entreat 
 tliee well in the time of evil,' &c.(<2) 
 
 " I had also this consideration, that if I should now 
 venture all for God, I engaged God to take care of my 
 concernments ; but if I forsook him and his ways, for 
 fear of any trouble that should come to me or mine, 
 then I should not only falsify my profession, but 
 should count also that my concernments were not so 
 sure, if left at God's feet, whilst I stood to and for his 
 name, as they would be, if they were under my own 
 care, though w ith the denial oi the way of God. This 
 %vas a smarting consideration, and as spurs to my 
 flesh. 
 
 " I had also the dread of the torments of hell, which 
 I was sure the}- must partake of, that, for fear of the 
 cross, do shrink from their profession of Christ, Iiis 
 V ords and laws, before the sons of men. I thought also 
 of the glor) that he had prepared for those that in faith, 
 and love, and patience, stood to his ways before them. 
 These things, I say, have helped me, Mhen the thoughts 
 of the misery that both ni} self and mine niight, for the 
 sake of ni} profession, be exposed to, hadi lain pinching 
 on my nnnd. 
 
 " \Mien I have indeed conceited, that I might be 
 banished for my profession, then I ha^•e thought of that 
 scripture, ' 'J'hey were stoned, they m ere sawn asunder, 
 vere tempted, were slain with the sword : they wan- 
 
 («) Jcr. sLx. 11. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 37 
 
 dered about in sheep-skins and goat-skins, being des- 
 titute, afflicted, tormented, of whom the world was not 
 worthy :'(c) for all they thought they were too bad to 
 dwell, and abide amongst them. I have sometimes rea- 
 soned about the sore and sad estate of a banished and 
 exiled condition, how such are exposed to hunger, to 
 cold, to perils, to nakedness, to enemies, and a thousand 
 calamities ; and at last, it may be, to die in a ditch like 
 a poor forlorn and desolate sheep. But I thank God, 
 liitherto I have not been moved by these most delicate 
 reasonings, but have rather by them more approved my 
 heart to God." 
 
 It seems wonderful, indeed, that such a man should 
 have been suffered to languish so long, and so unjustly, 
 in a prison, and that with little effort for his enlarge- 
 ment. His wife indeed once applied to the judges 
 at the assizes on his behalf, but was opposed by 
 the magistrates, who did all in their power to pre- 
 judice the judges against him. The great and good 
 Sir Matthexv Hale^ who was present, appeared desi- 
 rous of relieving him, if the matter had been brought 
 judicially before him, and for this end advised his 
 wife to procure a writ of error ; but whether they 
 were too poor and friendless to do this, or whether 
 they were ignorant how to proceed, or intimidated by 
 the power of their enemies, or the iniquity of the times, 
 no steps appear to have been taken of this nature. 
 At length Bishop Barlow^ and some other churchmen, 
 rather, as should seem, from motives of compassion 
 than of equity, interested themselves on his behalf, and 
 procured his enlargement : after which he travelled in 
 various parts of the kingdom, visiting and encouraging 
 the brethren, insomuch that he was called Bishop Ban- 
 yan ; and the reader will doubtless agree with me, that 
 he better merited the title than those downy prelates 
 
 (a) Heb. xi. 37. 
 
38 'illE LIFE OF JOIIX BUNVAN. 
 
 who suffered him to languish twelve years in a jail, for 
 preaching that Gospel which they ought to have preached 
 themselves. 
 
 In the following reign, when king James II. declared 
 for liberty of conscience, Banyan was enabled, by the 
 voluntary contributions of his hearers, to build a meet- 
 ing-house, \vhcre he preached to large congregations, 
 as he did also when he visited the metropolis, where he 
 was sometimes honoured with the attendance, and de- 
 cided approbation, of the great Dr. Owen. And so 
 popular was he, that if but one day's notice was given, 
 the meeting-house in Southwark, where he generally 
 preached, would not hold half the people who attended. 
 Three thousand have been gathered together for this pur- 
 pose in a remote part of the town ; and not less than 
 twelve hundred at seven o'clock on a dark \\'inter's morn- 
 ing, even in the week-days. 
 
 Amidst all this popularity he was kept humble and 
 modest in his conversation, and exemjilary in his beha- 
 viour. Slanders, indeed, were invented by his enemies, 
 but soon died away ; and his biographers are all agreed, 
 that in the latter part of his life, from his conversion, his 
 *' moral character was unexceptionable. "(rz) 
 
 His valuable life, worn out with labour, and with 
 sufferings, closed at the age of threescore, with a me- 
 morable act of Christian charity. His conduct in 
 his own neighbourhood had procured him the blessed 
 character of a peace-maker : he was therefore sent to, 
 while on a visit at London, by a young gentleman at 
 Bedford, to mediate w^ith his offended father, who lived 
 at Reading, in Berkshire. He succeeded ; but on his 
 return to the metropolis, being overtaken with excessive 
 rains, came very wet to his friend's (Mr. Straddock, 
 grocer,) at the Star on Snow-hill, which produced a fa- 
 tal fever. He bore this, as he had done his other suf- 
 
 (a) Biog. Biit. 
 
THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 39 
 
 fering-s, with ^reat patience and resignation to the will 
 of God, in submission to which, however, he " desired 
 to depart and be with Christ." In this frame of spirit 
 he lay about ten days, \\hen he crossed the mystical 
 Jordan, August 31st, 1688, following his Christian Pil- 
 grim to the celestial city. 
 
 He Avas buried in a vault belonging to a friend in the 
 Dissenters' burial-place, adjoining the Artillery Ground, 
 Moorfields — since Bun-hill- fields, traditionally supposed 
 to have been so called from his having been one of the 
 first buried there. 
 
 Mr. Buriyan was twice married. By his first wife, 
 Elizabeth, he had four children, one of whom, named 
 Mary, was blind, and died before him. He married 
 his second wife about 1658, and she survived him only 
 about four years, dying in 1692. It does not appear 
 that she had any children. 
 
 Nor have we any further account of his children by 
 'his former wife, so that he appears in history, as an il- 
 lustrious pen expresses it, " an isolated individual," 
 without progenitors, and without descendants. 
 
 As to his person and temper, his character is thus 
 delineated by the continuator of his life : " He appeared 
 in countenance to be of a stern and rough temper ; but 
 in his conversation mild and affable, not given to much 
 discourse in company, unless some urgent occasion re- 
 quired it ; observing never to boast of himself, or his 
 parts, but rather submit himself to the judgment of 
 others ; abhorring lying and swearing, being just in all 
 that lay in his power to his word ; not seeming to re- 
 venge injuries, loving to reconcile differences, and 
 make friendship with all. He had a sharp, quick eye, 
 accompanied with an excellent discerning of persons, 
 being of good judgment, and quick wit. As for his 
 person, he was tail of stature, strong boned, though not 
 corpulent, someAvhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling 
 eyes, wearing his hair upon his upper lip after the old 
 British fashion : his hair reddish, but in his latter days. 
 
40 THE LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAW. 
 
 time had sprinkled it with gray ; his nose ^vcll set, but 
 not decHning or bendins^, and his mouth moderate 
 large, his forehead something high, and his liabit always 
 plain and modest." 
 
 His w orks form two Uirge volumes in folio, and con- 
 tain, according to Mr. Grainger, (a) as many tracts 
 as he had lived years : a great piirt of them were pro- 
 bably the substance of his pulpit discourses, which he 
 used commonly to commit to writing, not before, but 
 after, he had preached them. 
 
 (a) fiiog. Hist, of Eog. 
 
THE 
 
 AUTHOR'S APOLOGY. 
 
 W^HEN at the first I took my pen in hand^ 
 Thus for to write, I did not understand 
 That I at all should make a little Book 
 In such a mode : nay, I had undertook 
 To make another ; which, when almost done, 
 Before I was aware, I thus begun. 
 
 And thus it was : I, writing of the way 
 And race of saints m this our gospel-day, 
 Fell suddenly into an allegory, 
 About their journey, and the way to glory, 
 In more than twenty things, which I set down : 
 This done, I twenty more had in my crown, 
 And they again began to multiply, 
 Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
 Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
 I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last 
 Should prove ad infinitum^ and eat out 
 The book that 1 already am about. 
 
 .6 
 
42 THE author's apology. 
 
 Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think 
 Tij ihew to all the world my pen and ink 
 In such a mode ; I only tliought to make 
 I knew not what ; nor did I undertake 
 Thereby to pkitse my neighbour ; no, not I^ 
 I did it mine own self to gratify. 
 
 Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
 In this my scribble ; nor did I intend 
 But to divert myself in doing this, 
 From worser thoughts, which made me do amiss. 
 
 Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
 And quickl}- had my thoughts in black and white. 
 For having now my method by the end, 
 Sail as I puH'd it came ; and so I penn'd 
 It down, until at last it came to be. 
 For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. 
 
 Well, when I liad put my ends together, 
 I shew'd them others, that I might see ^vhether 
 They would condemn them, or them justify ; 
 And some said. Let him live ; some, Let him die : 
 Some said, John, print it ; others said. Not so. 
 Some said. It might do good ; others said, No. 
 
 Now I was in a strait, and did not see 
 Wiiich was the best thing to be done b}- me : 
 At last 1 thought, since you are thus divided, 
 1 prnit it w ill ; and bO the case decided. 
 
 For, thought I, some I sec would have it done. 
 Though others in that channel do not run : 
 To prove then who advised ibr the best, 
 Thus I thougiit tit to put it to the test. 
 I farther thought, if now 1 did deny 
 'J'husc that \\(juid have it, thus to gratify, 
 I did not know, but hinder them 1 might 
 Of diiit wluch would to them be great delight ■ 
 
THE AUTHOR S APOLOGY. 
 
 43 
 
 For those which were not for its coming forth, 
 I said to them, Offend you I am loth : 
 Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, 
 Forbear to judge till you do farther see. 
 
 If that you would not read, let it alone : 
 Some love the meat, some love to pick a bone. 
 Yea, that I might thera better moderate, 
 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 sjDCws 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 snares, nor net, nor engine can make thine : 
 They must be grop'd for, and be tickled too, 
 Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do. 
 
 How does the fowler seek to catch his game 
 By divers means ? All which one cannot name : 
 His gun, 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. 
 
4'i THE author's apology. 
 
 If tliat a pearl may on a toad's head dwell, 
 And may l3C found too in an oyster shell ; 
 If things that promise nothini^, do eontain 
 What better is than gold ; who will disdain, 
 That have an inkling of it, there to look 
 That they may find it ! Now my little book 
 (Tiio' void of all these paintings that may make 
 It with this or the other man to take) 
 Is not without these things that do excel. 
 What do in brave, but empty notions d\\ell. 
 
 Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, 
 That this your book will stand, when soundly tried. 
 Whv, what's the matter ? It is dark : What though ? 
 But it is feigned : What of that ? I trow. 
 Some men, by feigned \vords 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 older times held forth 
 By shadows, types, and metaphors ? Yet loth 
 "Will any sober man be to find fault 
 With them, lest he be found for to assault 
 The highest ^\'isdom : No ; he rather stoops. 
 And seeks to find out what by pins and loops, 
 By calves and sheep, by heifers and b}- rams, 
 By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, 
 God speaketli to him ; and full happy he 
 That finds the light and grace that in them be ! 
 
 Be not too forward, therefore, to conclude 
 That I want solidness ; that I am rude : 
 All things solid in shew not solid be ; ^ 
 
 All things in parables despise not wc. 
 
THE author's apology. 45 
 
 Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, 
 And things that good are of our souls bereave. 
 
 My dark and cloudy words they do but hold 
 The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. 
 
 The prophets used much by metaphors 
 To set forth truth ; yea, whoso considers 
 Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see, 
 That truths to this day in such mantles be. 
 
 I am afi-aid to say that Holy Writ, 
 Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit, 
 Is every where so full of all these things, 
 (Dark figures, allegories) yet there springs 
 From that same book, that lustre, and those rays 
 Of light, that 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 liim know 
 That in his best things there are worse lines too. 
 
 May we but stand before impartial men. 
 To his poor one I dare adventure ten, 
 That they Avill take my meaning in these lines, 
 Far better than his lies in silver shrines. 
 Come. Truth, although in swaddling clouts, I find, 
 Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind ; 
 Pleases the imderstanding, makes the will 
 Submit, the memory also 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 gra\'e Paul him no where did forbid 
 The use of parables ; in which lay hid 
 
46 THE author's apology. 
 
 That ^old, tliose pearls, and precious stones that \vere 
 
 AV'orth digging for, and that with greatest care. 
 
 Let me add one word more : O man of God, 
 
 Art tliou offended ? Dost thou wish I had 
 
 Put forth m\- matter in another dress ? 
 
 Or, that I had in tilings been more express ? 
 
 To those that are my betters, as is fit. 
 
 Three things let me propound, then I submit : 
 
 1. I find not that I am denied the use 
 Of this method, so I do not 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 
 (Examples too, and that from them that have 
 God better pleased, b}^ their words or ways, 
 Than any man that breathes now in our 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 Avays ; 3Tt 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 plow. 
 To guide our minds and pens for his design ? 
 And he makes base things usher in divine. 
 
 3. I find that Holy Writ, in many places. 
 Hath semblance with this method, where the cases 
 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. 
 
THE author's apology. 47 
 
 And now, before I do put up my pen, 
 I'll shew the profit of my book, and then 
 Commit both thee and it into that hand. 
 That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand. 
 
 This book, it chalketh out before thine eyes 
 The man that seeks the everlasting prize : 
 It shews you whence he comes, whither he goes ; 
 What he leaves undone ; also what he does : 
 It shews you how he runs and runs, 
 Till he unto the gate of glory comes. 
 
 It shews, 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 labour, and like fools do die. 
 
 This book will make a traveller of thee, 
 'If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be ; 
 It will direct thee to the holy land, 
 If thou wilt its directions understand : 
 Yea, it will make the slothful active be ; 
 The blind also delightful things to see. 
 
 Art thou for something rare and profitable ? 
 Or wouldst thou see a truth within a fable ? 
 Art thou forgetful ? Or wouldst thou remember 
 From new-year's to the last of December ? 
 Then read my fancies ; they will stick like burs, 
 And may be to the helpless comforters. 
 
 This Book is wrote 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, 
 
 Wouldst thou divert thy self from melancholy ? 
 Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from foiiy ? 
 
48 THE author's apology. 
 
 Wouldst thou read riddles, and dieir explanation ? 
 Or else be drow ned in thy contemplation ? 
 Dost thou love picking meat ? Or \\ouldst thou see 
 A man i' th' cloulds, and hear him speak to thee ? 
 Wouldst thou be in a drciim, and yet not sleep ? 
 Or, \vouIdst thou in a moment laugh and weep ? 
 Or, w ouldst thou lose thyself, and catch no harm ; 
 And find thyself again without a charm ? 
 Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know'st not what. 
 And yet know ^vhether thou art bless'd or not, 
 By reading the same lines ? O then come hither ! 
 And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. 
 
 JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS, 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE AUTHOR'S IMPRISONMENT AND DREAM. CHRISTIAN CON. 
 VINCED OF SIN, FLIES FROM THE WRATH TO COME, AND 
 IS DIRECTED BY THE GOSPEL TO CHRIST. 
 
 As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I 
 lighted on a certain place where was a den,* and laid 
 me down in that place to sleep : and as I slept I dreamed 
 a dream. I dreamed ; and, behold, " I saw a man 
 clothed with rags, standing in a certain place, with his 
 face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a 
 great burden upon his back. "(a) 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 
 
 * Mr. Bunyan wrote this precious book in Bedford gaol, where he was con- 
 fined for preaching tlie Gospel, as a non-conformist, or dissenter To this he 
 refers when he speaks of the " den." The Lord frequently causes *• the wrath 
 of man to praise him." The servants of Christ, when restrained by penal laws, 
 from publishing the word of life from the pulpit, have become more abundantly 
 useful by their writings. 
 
 ( a) Isa. ixiv. 6. Luke xiv. 33. Psal. xxxviii. 4. Hah, ii. S. *cts \vi, 31. 
 
 7 
 
50 THE PILGRIM'S DISTRESS. 
 
 contain, lie l^rake out with a lamentable cry,* sayinir* 
 " What shall I do V\a) ' " 
 
 In this plight thcrttbre he went home, and refrained 
 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 : w here- 
 fore at lengtii he brake his mind to his wife and chil- 
 dren ; and thus he began to talk to them : " O m}- dear 
 Mife," said he, " and you the children of my bowels, 
 I your dear friend am in m}self undone by reason of a 
 burden that lieth hard upon me : moreover, I am cer- 
 tainly informed that this our cityf will be burned w iih 
 fire from heaven : in which fearful overihro\\-, both ni}- 
 self, with thee my wife, and you my s^eet babes, shall 
 miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see 
 not) some way of escape may be Ibund, whereby we 
 may be delivered." At this his relations were sore 
 amazed ;J not for that tliey belie^■ed that what he had 
 said to them was true, but because they thought s(jme 
 frenzy distemper had got into his head ; tlKrefore, it 
 drawing towards night, and they hoping that sleep 
 
 • The cry of an awakened sinner, who sees liis own rrj;htcousncss to be as 
 filthy rags, liis soul in a slate of wrath ami wretcliodiitss, exposed to everlasting 
 destruction, feeling tiie burden of liis sins upon liis hack, he turns his face froni 
 his own house, from himself, from all his false hopes and vain cniifidencrs, for 
 refuge, and takes liis IJihIc in his hand to direct him where he shall flie for 
 safely and salvation. The more a sinner reads therein, the more he is convinced 
 of the wretche<l state and ruined condition of his precious immortal soul, and of 
 liis necessity of llecing to Christ for eternal life ami salvation As he reads, lie 
 weeps and trembles to think what will hecome of him. Iteailer, was this ever 
 your case ? Uid you ever see your sins, and feel the burden of them, so as to 
 t;ry out, in the anguish of your soul. What must I do to be saved ? If not, vou 
 will look on this precious book as a romance, or history, \vliich no \\av concerna 
 you ; you can no more understand tlie meaning of it, than if it \> as wrote in aa 
 unknown language : for you are yet carnal, dead in jour sins, lying in the arms 
 of the wicked one in false security. But this book is spiritual ; it can onlv be 
 unilerstood by spiritually <|uickene<t souls, who have experienced that salvation in 
 tlie heart which begins with a sight of sin, a sense of sin, a fear of destrnction, 
 and <lread of ilanination. Such, and only such, commence Pilgrims from ilia 
 city nf nestrui'tion to the heavenly kingdom. 
 
 \ This world. 
 
 i Conviction of sin in the li^eart, will discover itself lo those about us, by the 
 outward conduct and behaviour of the life. 
 
 * (a) Acts ii. TiZ. *.* 
 
EVANGELIST INSTRUCTS HIM. 51 
 
 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, " JVorse and xvorse:' 
 He also set to talking with them again, but they began to 
 be hardened. They also thought to drive away his dis- 
 temper by harsh and surly carriage to him : sometimes 
 Ihey 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, cr}ing, " What shall 
 
 I do to be saved ?"!(«) 
 
 I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if 
 he would run ; yet he stood still, because (as I per- 
 ceived) he could not tell vv^hich way to go. I looked 
 then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to 
 him ; and he asked, " Wherefore dost thou cry ?"J 
 
 He answered ; Sir, I perceive by the book in my 
 hand that I am condemned to die, and after that to 
 come to judgment ; and I find that I am not willing to 
 do the first, nor able to do the second. §(6) 
 
 Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since 
 this life is attended with so many evils ? The man an- 
 
 * When we begin to be wise unto salvation, carnal friends pronounce us mad 
 unto destruction j and administer carnal medicine for our sin-sick souls. 
 
 ■\ No soul was ever in earnest for salvation, till there is a cry in his heart to be 
 «aved from the wrath of an offended God. • 
 
 t Behold here the tender love and care of Jesus, the gji-eat Shepherd and Bishop 
 of souls, to sin-distressed, heavy laden sinners, in sending Evangelist ; that is, a 
 preacher of gospel grace, and glad tidings of salvation to them. 
 
 § A true confession of an enlightened, sensible sinner. 
 
 (a) Acts xvi. 30, 31, (6) Heb. ix. 27. Job xvi. 21, 22. Ezek. xxii. 14. 
 
52 EVANGELIST INSTRUCTS HIM. 
 
 swcred, Because I fear that this burden that is upon my 
 back* will sink me lower than the gra\e, and 1 shall 
 fall into Top/iet.{a) And, Sir, if I be not fit to go to 
 prison, I am not lit to go to judgment, and from thence 
 to execution : and the thoughts of these things make 
 me cr)'. 
 
 Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, Avhy 
 standest thou still ? He answered, Because I know not 
 whither to go. Then he gave him a parchment roll ; 
 and there was written within, " Flee from the wrath to 
 come."t((6) 
 
 The man therefore read it, and, looking upon Evan- 
 gelist very carefully, said, Whither must I flee ? Then 
 said Exangelist, pointing with his finger over a very 
 wide field. Do you see yonder Wicket-gate ?{c) The 
 man said. No. Then said the other, Do you see yon- 
 der shining light ?t{d) He said,. 1 think I do. Then 
 said Evangelist, Keep that light in thine eye, and go up 
 directly thereto, so shalt thou see the gate ; at which 
 ivhen thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou 
 shalt do. 
 
 * The convictions of the Spirit of God in the heart, make a man feel the 
 insupportable burden of sin upon his back, and to dread the wrath of God reveal- 
 ed from heaven against sin. 
 
 "t" Thi- p;ospel never leaves a convinced sinner in the miserable situation in which 
 it finds him, without hoi)e and relief; but points him to Jesus for safety and sal- 
 vation, that he may fly from himself and the wrath he feels in himself- to the 
 fulness of the grace of Christ, signified by the Wicket-Gate. 
 
 i Christ and the way to him, cannot be found without the word. The word 
 directs to Christ, and the Spirit shines into the heart, whereby the sinner sees 
 Christ ih the word Tliis makes God's woi-d precious. 
 
 (a) Isa. XXX. 33. (6) Matt. iii. 7. (c) Matt. vU. 13, IL 
 
 (rf) Psal. cxix. 105, 2 Pef. i. 19. 
 
OBSTINATE AND PLIABLE PURSUE CHRISTIAN. 53 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHRISTIAN PR0CEE1)S--0BST1NATE REFUSES TO ACCOMPANY 
 HIM— PLIABLE GOES AS FAR AS THE SLOUGH, AND RE- 
 TURNS. 
 
 So I saw in my dream that the man began to run. 
 Now he had not run far from his own door, but his 
 wife and children (perceiving it) began to cry after him 
 to return :(a) but the man put his fingers in his ears, 
 and ran on, crying, "Life! life! eternal life!" So he 
 looked not behind him, ((6) but fled towards the middle 
 of the plain.* 
 
 The neighbours also came out to seef him run : 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 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, 
 Neighbours, wherefore are ye come ? They said. To 
 persuade you to go back with us ; but he said, That 
 can by no means be : you dwell, said he, in the city of 
 Destruction ; the place also where I was born ; I see it 
 to be so ; and dying there, sooner or later, you will 
 sink lower than the grave into a place that burns with 
 
 * When a sinner begins to fly from destruction, carnal relations will strive 
 to prevent him ; but it is wiser to stop our ears against the reasonings of flesh and 
 bloodi than to parley with them. Carnal affections cannot prevail over spiritual 
 convictions. The sinner who is in earnest for salvation, will be deaf te invita- 
 tions to go back. The more he is solicited by them, the faster he will fly from 
 them. 
 
 •j" He who flies from the wrath to come? and leads a life of righteousness, is a 
 gazing stock to the world. 
 
 (n) Lute xiv. 26. (*) Gen. six. 17. 2 Cor. iy. 18. 
 
54 * IHEY OVERTAKE HIM 
 
 fire and brimstone : be content, good ntiglibours, and 
 go along with me.* 
 
 What, said Ol^stinatc, and leave our friends and our 
 comforts behind us ! 
 
 Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name) because 
 that all which you sh ill forsake is not worthy to be 
 compared with a little of that that I am seeking to en- 
 joy ; 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 :(a) come away, and prove my \vords. 
 
 Ob ST. What are the things you seek, since you 
 leave all the world to fmd them ? 
 
 Chr. I seek an " inheritance incorruptible, undefi- 
 led, and that fadeth not away ; and it is laid up in hea- 
 ven, "((6) and safe there, to be bestowed at the time ap- 
 pointed on them that diligendy seek it. Read it so, if 
 you will in my book. 
 
 Tush, said Obstinate, away wiUi }our book : will 
 you go back with us or no ? 
 
 No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my 
 hand to the plough.(,c) 
 
 , Obst. Come then, neighbour Pliable, let us turn 
 a^gain and go home w ithout him : there is a company 
 of these crazy-headed coxcombs, diat when they take 
 a fancy by the end arc wiser in their own eyes than se- 
 ven men that can render a reason. 
 
 Then said Pliable, Don't revile ; if \vhat the good 
 Christian says is true, the things he looks after are 
 iDctter than ours ; my heart inclines to go with my 
 neighbour. 
 
 Obst. What! more fools still? be ruled by me, 
 and go back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick 
 
 • The genuine spirit of a sinner, convinced of sin, anil fleeingfrom destruction, 
 lie wotild gladlv persuade otliei- poor sinners to go with him. The least spark ok 
 gi-acc from God in the heart discovers itself in good will to men. 
 
 («) Luke XV. 17. (A) 1 Pet. i. 4—0. llcb. xi. C— 16. (r) Luke ix. C2. 
 
/ 
 
 PLIABLE ACCOMPANIES HIM. ' • S^ 
 
 fellow will lead you ? Go back, go back, and be 
 wise.* 
 
 Chr. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbour 
 Pliable ; there are such things to be had which I spake 
 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. (a) 
 
 Well, neighbour Obstinate, saith Pliable, I begin to 
 come to a point : 1 intend to go along with this good 
 man, and to cast in my lot with him ; but, my good 
 companion, do you know the way to this desired 
 place ? 
 
 Chr. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evan- 
 gelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where 
 we shall receive instructions about the way. 
 
 Pli. Come then, good neighbour, let us be going. 
 Then they went both together. 
 
 ' And 1 will go back to my place, said Obstinate ; 
 I will be no companion of such misled fantastical 
 fellows.f #. 
 
 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. 
 
 Chr. Come, neighbour Pliable, how do you do ? I 
 am glad you are persuaded to go along with me ; had 
 even Obstinate himself but felt what 1 have felt of the 
 powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not 
 thus lightly have given us the back. 
 
 Pli. Come, neighbour Christian, since there are 
 none but us two here, tell me now further, what the 
 
 • He -who npver became a fool in the eyes of the world for Christ, is not yet 
 made wise unto salvation through the faith of Christ. 
 
 t Here see the different erfects which gospel truths have upon natural men. 
 Obstinate totally rejects them. Pliable hears of them with joy, believes somowbst 
 of them for a season, and accompanies Christian a little way. 
 
 (a) Heb. ix. 17—22. 
 
5G IHEIll CONVERSATION. 
 
 things arc, and how to be enjoyed, whither we arc 
 going. 
 
 Chk. I can better conceive of them with my mmd 
 than speak of them with my tongue : but yet, since 
 vou are desirous to know, I will read of them in my 
 book. 
 
 Pli. And do vou think that the words of your book 
 iire certainl}' true '? 
 
 Cur. Yes, verily, for it was made bv him that cannot 
 \\c.(a) 
 
 Pli. Well said ; what things are they ? 
 
 Chr. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, 
 and everlasting life to be given us that we may inhabit 
 tliat kingdom for ever.(/^) 
 
 Pli. Well said ; and what else ? 
 
 Chr. There are crowns of giory to be given us ; and 
 "•arments that ^vill make us shine like the sun in the fir- 
 mament of heaven, (c) 
 
 Pli. This is very pleasant ; and what else ? 
 
 Chr. There shall be no more crying nor sorrow ; for 
 he that is ow ner of the place \\ill wipe all tears Irom our 
 eyes.(r/) 
 
 Pli. And what company shall we have there ? 
 
 Chr. There we shall be \\ith scraphims and cheru- 
 bims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on 
 them.(e') There also you shall meet with thousands 
 and tens of 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 widi acceptance for ever. In a A\ord, 
 there we shall see the elders with their golden crovvns,(y) 
 there we shall see holy virgins with their golden 
 harps ■,{g) 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 that they bare to the 
 
 («) Til. i. 2. (4) Isa. xlv. 17. John x. '27—29. (<) 2 Tim. iv. S. 
 
 Hcv. x\u. 5. Matt. .\iii 4,1 (J) Isa .xw. 8. Ri-v \ii. 16, 17. 
 
 xxL 4. (e) Isa. vi. 2- 1 Thoss. iv. IC, 17. 
 
 (/) Rev. iv. 4. (j) Rev. siv. 1—5. 
 
THE SLOUGH OP DESPOND. 57 
 
 Lord of the place, as well, and clothed with immortality 
 as with a garment. («) 
 
 Pli. 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? 
 
 Chr. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath 
 recorded that in this book ; the substance of which is, 
 if we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon 
 us freely. ((^) 
 
 Pli. Well my good companion, glad am I to hear 
 of these things ; come on, let us mend our pace.* 
 
 Chr. I cannot go so fast as I would, by reason of 
 this burden that is on my back. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended 
 this talk they drew nigh to a very miry slough that was 
 in the midst of the plain, and they being heedless did 
 both fall suddenly into the bog. The name of the 
 slough was Despond. Here therefore they wallowed 
 for a time, being grievously bedaubed with dirt ; and 
 Christian, because of the burden that was on his back, 
 began to sink in the mire. 
 
 Then said Pliable, Ah ! neighbour Christian, where 
 are vou now ? 
 
 Truly, said Christian, I do not know. 
 
 At that 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 betwixt this and 
 
 • Here see the fleshly joys and flashy comforts of temporary professors: he is 
 too hot to hold ; too light (having never felt the burden of his sins) to travel far. 
 Our Lord describes such as the stony-ground hearers. Tliey receive the word 
 ■with joy; the word hath no root in their liearts, they believe a while; but iii 
 times of temptation fall away. Luke viii. 15. So did Pliable at the slough of De- 
 spond. This signifies those desponding fears, and despairing doubts which beset 
 us, arising from unbelief of God's word- the suggestions of Satan, and the carnsll 
 reasonings of our corrupt nature, against the revealed truths, and precious prom- 
 ises of God. These ti-y the reality of our convictions, and the sincerity of onr 
 faith. 
 
 (a) John xii. 25. 2 Cor. v. 2 — 4. 
 (6) Isa. It. 1— .I. John vi. 37. vii. 37. Rcr. x\i. 6. TSii. IT. 
 
S8 PUABLE RETURNS HOME. 
 
 our journey's end ? May I get out again with my life, 
 you shall possess the bra\'C country alone for nie : And 
 nith that he gave a desperate struggle or two, and got 
 out of the mire on that side of the blongh w hich was 
 next his own house : so away he went, and Christian 
 saw him no more.* 
 
 Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the slough 
 of Despond alone : but still he endeavoured to struggle 
 to that side of the slough that was furthest from his 
 own house, and next to the Wicket-g-ate :t the which 
 he did, but could not get out because of the burden tiiat 
 was upon his back. But I beheld, in my dream, that 
 a man came to him, whose name was Help, J and asked 
 him, What he did there ? 
 
 Sir, said Christian, I ^vas bid to go this way by a 
 man, called Evangelist, who directed me also to }onder 
 gate, that I might escape the wrath to come : and as I 
 Avas going thither I fell in here. 
 
 Help. But why did you not look for the steps ?§ 
 
 Chr. Fear followed me so hard, that 1 fled the next 
 way, and fell in. 
 
 Help. Then said he, Give me thy hand ; so he 
 gave him his hand, and he drew him out, and set 
 him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his 
 way.(«) 
 
 Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and 
 said ; Sir, wherefore, since over this i)lace is the w ay 
 from the city of Destruction to yonder gate, is 
 
 • It is not enougli to be pliable; for ttie first trial lie met witli cooled hiff 
 courage, damped his joy, killed his faith, and seiit him back to the city of 
 Destruction. 
 
 •j- (Jliristian, in trouble, seeks still to get farther from bis own house. See 
 the diirercncc between a truly convinced sinner, and a jiliable unconverted 
 professor ; one keeps his face towards Christ for hope and help ; the otiier flie» 
 j)ack for comfort to the city of Destruction. 
 
 t The arm of Christ's omnipotent giace, reached foitli to snatch poor sinners 
 fro;n destruction ; for he says to them " Thou hast destroyed thyself, but H» me is 
 thine blip." Ilosca xiii. 9. 
 
 § The great and precious promises of God, which are in Christ Jesus to poor, 
 needy, and di&trcssed siuagis. 
 
 (fl) Psal. xl. 2. 
 
ACCOUNT OF THE SLOUGH. 59 
 
 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 at- 
 tends conviction for sin doth continually run, and there- 
 fore it was 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 groiuid. 
 
 It is not the pleasure of the king that this place should 
 remain so bad ;(«) his labourers also have, by the direc- 
 tion of his majesty's surveyors, been for above these six- 
 teen hundred years employed about this patch of ground, 
 if perhaps it might have been mended : yea, and to my 
 knowledge, said he, here 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 the 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 law- giver, 
 certain good and substantial steps placed even through 
 the very midst of this slough ; but at such times as 
 this place does much spew out its filth, as it doth against 
 change of \veather, 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, notwith- 
 
 • Signifvin!», that there is nothing but despondency Hnd despair in the fallen 
 nature of sinful man : the best that we can do, leaves us in tlie slough of Despond, 
 as to any hopes in ourselves. 
 
 (a) Isa. XXXV, 3, 4. 
 
6^ PLIABLE REACHES HOME. 
 
 standing the steps be there : but the ground is good \\hen 
 they are once got in at the gate.*(rt) 
 
 Now I saw in my dream that by this time Pliable was 
 got home to his house. So his neighbours came to 
 visit him ; and some of them calkd him wise man for 
 coming back : and some called him fool for hazarding 
 himself with Christian : others again did mock at his 
 cowardliness ;t saying, " Surely, since you began to 
 venture, I would not have been so base to have given 
 out for a few difficulties :" so Pliable sat sneaking among 
 them. But at last he got more confidence ; and then 
 they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor 
 Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning 
 Pliable. 
 
 * That is the Lord Jesus Christ. We never find good ground, nor safe sound- 
 ing, nor comfortablf walking, till we etiter into possession of Christ by faith, and 
 till our feet are set upon Him, who is the Rock of ages. 
 
 ■(" They who uffect to despise r'-al Christians, often both express and feel great 
 contempt for those that cast off their profession : such men are unable, ''or a time, 
 to resume their wonted confidence among their former companions; and this 
 excites thera to pay court to them, by reviling and deriding those >vhoiu they have 
 forsakeih 
 
 (n) iSam. XU.S2; 
 
 •v' 
 
WORLDLT-WISEMAN MEETS CHRISTIAN. 61 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GHRISTIAISI DECEIVED BY THE ADVICE OF MR. WORLDLY-WISE- 
 MAN, TURNS OUT OF THE WAY, AND IS GREATLY ALARM- 
 ED; BUT HAPPILY MEETING WITH EVANGELIST, RETURNS 
 TO THE RIGHT PATH, AND PROCEEDS ON HIS JOURNEY. 
 
 Now as Christian was walking solitarily by himself, 
 he spied one afar off crossing over the field to meet 
 him ; and their hap was to meet just as they were cross- 
 ing the way to each other. The gentleman's name, that 
 met him, was Mr. Worldly- wiseman ; he dwelt in the 
 town of Carnal- policy ; a very great town, and also hard 
 by from whence Christian came. This man, then, 
 meeting with Christian, and having some inkling of him, 
 (for Christian's setting forth from the city of Destruction 
 was much noised abroad, not only in the town where he 
 dwelt, but also it began to be the town- talk in some 
 other places ;) Mr. Worldly-wiseman, therefore, having 
 some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going, 
 by observing his sighs and groans, and the like, began 
 thus to enter into some talk with Christian. 
 
 World. How now, good fellow, whither away after 
 this burdened manner ? 
 
 Chr. a burdened manner indeed, as ever, I think, 
 poor creature had ! And whereas you asked me, whither 
 away ? I tell you, Sir, I am going to yonder Wicket- 
 gate before me ; for there, as 1 am informed, I shall be 
 put in a way to be rid of my heavy burden. 
 
 World. Hast thou a wife and children V 
 
 Chr. Yes ; but I am so laden with this burden, that 
 I cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly : me- 
 thinks I am as if I had none. (a) 
 
 (o) 1 Cor. vii. 29. 
 
62 WORLDLY AVISEMAN'S COUNSEL TO CHRISTIAN. 
 
 World. Wilt thou hearken to me if I give thee 
 counsel ? 
 
 Chr. If it be good, I will; for I stiuid in need of 
 good counsel. 
 
 World. 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 en- 
 joy the bencfi*^s of the blessings which God hath bestow- 
 ed upon thee till then.^ 
 
 Chr. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid 
 of this heavy burden ; but get it off myself I cannot : 
 nor is there any man in our countr}^ that can take it off 
 my shoulders : therefore am I going this way as 1 told 
 you, that I may be rid of my burden.* 
 
 World. Who bid you go this way to be rid of your 
 burden ? 
 
 CiiR. A man that appeared to me to be a very great 
 and honourable person ; his name, as I remember, is 
 Evangelist. 
 
 World. Beshrew him for his counsel; there is not 
 a more dangerous and troublesome way in the world 
 than is that unto which he hath directed thee ; and that 
 thou shalt find if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel. 
 Thou hast met \vith 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 v/ith, on 
 the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, 
 hunger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, dark- 
 ness, and, in a word, death, and \vliat not ! These things 
 are certainly true, having been confirmed by many tes- 
 timonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast 
 away himself by giving heed to a stranger ? 
 
 • A gVimpsc of the Wickot-gale, or of deliverance from the guilt of sin 
 hy Christ, will mukt; the sinner reject all other wuys, and press oiT towards 
 Clirist ouly. 
 
THEIR FURTHER CONVERSATION. 63 
 
 Chr. Why, Sir, this burden upon my back is more 
 terrible to me than are all these things which you 
 liave mentioned : nay, methinks I care not what I meet 
 with in my way, if so be 1 can also meet with deliver- 
 ance from my burden.* 
 
 World. How camest thou by the burden at first ? 
 
 Chr. By reading this book in my hand. 
 
 World. t 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 distrac- 
 tions ; which distractions do not only unman men (as 
 thine 1 perceive have done thee,) but they run them 
 upon desperate ventures to obtain they -know not 
 what. 
 
 Chr. I know what I would obtain ; it is ease from 
 my heavy burden. 
 
 World. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, 
 seeing so many dangers attend it ? Especially since, 
 hadst thou but patience to hear me, I couid direct thee 
 to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the dan- 
 gers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into. Yea, 
 and the remedy is at hand. Besides, I will add, that 
 instead of these dangers, thou shalt meet with much 
 safety, ~ friendship, and content. 
 
 Chr. Sir, 1 pray, open this secret to me. 
 
 World. Why, in yonder village (the village is 
 named Morality) there dwells a gentleman, whose name 
 is Legality, a very judicious man, and a man of very 
 good name, that has skill to help men oft' 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 bur- 
 
 • Such is the frame of the heart of a real penitent. 
 
 ■\ Mr. Worldly-wiseman does not like that men should be serious in reading 
 the Bible. 
 
64 LEGALITY, AND THE VILLAGE MORALITY. 
 
 dens.* To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be help- 
 ed presently. His house is not quite a mile from this 
 place ; and if he should not be at home himself, he hath 
 a pretty }ounir man to his son, whose name is Civility, 
 that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentle- 
 man 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 chil- 
 dren to thee to this village ; where there are houses 
 now stand empty, one of which thou mayest have at 
 reasonable rates : provision is there also cheap and 
 good : and that which will make thy life more happy, 
 is, to be sure, there thou shalt live by honest neighbours, 
 in credit and good fashion. 
 
 Now was Christian somewhat at a stand ; but pre- 
 sently he concluded. If this be true which this gende- 
 man hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice ; 
 and with that he thus further spake. 
 
 Chr. Sir, which is my way to this honest man's 
 house ? 
 
 World. Do you see yonder high hill ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, very well. 
 
 World. By that hill you must go, and the first 
 house you come at is his. 
 
 So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. 
 Legality's house for help.f 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 
 
 " Mr. "Worldlv-wiscmnn prefers Morality to Clirist the Strait Gate. This is 
 the exact ri-asoiiinR of tlie flesh. Carnal reason ever opposes spiritual truth. 
 The notion of jiisiificntion l>y our own obedience t^^ God's law, ever works in us, 
 eoi.traiv to the au of justification b} the obedience of Christ and livinp; faith iii 
 his blood. Self ii};huousncss is as contrary to the faith of Christ, as indulj;ing 
 the lusts (if the flesh. 
 
 ■\ .And a sad turn it proved to him ; for he turned from the work of Clirist< for 
 hiss'.ilviition, to his own works an<l obedience : so did the Gal.-Jtians of old .Mark 
 • he <onsc'(|ueiice ; Christian is afraid tiiat Mount Siuai, all tlie dreadful curses o\ 
 the law, would fall on his liead. 
 
CHRISTIAN TURNS ASIDE, HIS ALARM, 65 
 
 did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid 
 to venture further, lest the hill should fell on his head : 
 wherefore there he stood still, and ^votted not what to 
 do. Also his burden now seemed heavier to him than 
 while he was in the way. There came also flashes of 
 fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he 
 should be burned ;{a) here therefore he sweat and did 
 quake for fear. 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 
 ©ountenance, and thus began to reason with Christian. 
 
 What dost thou here, Christian ? said he. At which 
 words Christian knew not what to answer ; wherefore 
 at present he stood speechless before him. Then 
 said Evangelist further, Art thou not the man that 
 •I found crying without the walls of the city of Destruc- 
 tion ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man. 
 
 Evan. Did not I direct thee the way to the little 
 Wicket- gate ? 
 
 Yes, dear Sir, said Christian. 
 
 Evan. How is it then that thou art so quickly turn- 
 <8d aside ? for thou art now out of the way. 
 
 Chr. I met with a gentleman, as soon as I had got 
 ever the slough of Despond, who persuaded me that I 
 might in the village before me find a man that could 
 ttike off my burden. 
 
 Evan. What was he ? 
 
 Chr. He looked like a gentleman,! and talked 
 
 * Evangelist findeth Christian under Mount Sinai, and looketh seyerelv 
 Mpon him. See the effect of disobeying the Gos])el. 
 
 f Beware of taking men bj' their looks. Thev may look as srentle as Iambs, 
 while the poison of asps is under their tongues ; whereby they infect many souls 
 with pernicious errors, turning them from Christ and the hope of justification 
 and eternal life, through him only, to look and rely upon their own works, in 
 whole or in part, for salvation. 
 
 (a) BxwJ. .Vf.i. 16—18. He>». \'\]. 21. 
 
 .9 
 
66 CHRISTIAN IS MET BY EVANGELIST, 
 
 much to me, and got mc at last to yield ; so I came 
 hither : but Avhen I beheld this hill, and ho^\• it Imngs 
 over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it should 
 fall on my head. 
 
 Evan, What said that gentleman to you ? 
 
 Chr. He asked me if I had a family : and I told 
 Jiim. But, said I, I am so loaded with the burden 
 that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them 
 as formerly. 
 
 Evan. And what said he then? 
 
 Chr. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden ; 
 and I told him it was ease that I sought. And, said I, 
 I am therefore going to yonder gate to receive further 
 directions how I may get to the place of deliverance. 
 So he said that he would show mc a better way, and 
 shorter, not so attended with difficulties as the Avay, Sir, 
 that you set me in; which way, said he, will direct you 
 to a gentleman's house that has skill to take off these 
 burdens : so I believed him,* and turned out of that 
 ivay into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my 
 burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld 
 things as thc}^ are, I stopped for fear, as I said, of dan- 
 ger : but now know not what to do. 
 
 Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little that I ma} 
 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 reliised him that 
 spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we 
 turn away from him that speaketh from hea^en."(fl) 
 He said, moreover, " Now the just shall live by faith ; 
 but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no 
 pleasure in him."((6) He also did thus apply them : 
 
 • As the belief of trutli lies at the fniiiulatlon of the hope of eternal life, am! h 
 till' cause of any one bixoming a pilp;rim ; so tlic belief of a lie is the cause of any 
 one's turning out of tlie way wliicli leads to glory. 
 
 (a) Hcb. xii. 25. (*) Heb. x. 39, 
 
niRfSTIAN MET BY EVANGELIST ITNDlKR 
 MOUNT SIX A I 
 
AND CONVINCED OF HIS ERROR. 67 
 
 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 blasphemy shall be forgiven unto 
 men :" " Be not faithless, but believing." Then did 
 Christian again a little revive, and stood up trembling, as 
 at first, before Evangelist, f 
 
 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 rightl}^ is he so 
 called ; partly because he savoureth only the doctrine 
 of this world, («) (therefore he always goes to the town 
 of Morality to church,) and partly because he lovetli 
 that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the 
 cross :(/^) 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 : — his turning thee out of the 
 way ; — his labouring to render the cross odious to 
 thee ; — and his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth 
 unto the ministration of death.J 
 
 * See the danger of turning from the faith of Christ, to trust in any degree to 
 our own works for justification and eternal hfe. Beware of legal teachers, and of 
 thy own legal spirit. 
 
 f See the glory of gospel grace to sinners. See the amazing love of Christ ia 
 dying for sinners. O remember the price with which Christ obtained the pardon 
 of your sins ; at nothing less than his own most precions blood ! Believe his won- 
 derful love. Rejoice in his glorious salvatiou. Live in the love of hira, in the 
 hatred of your sins, and in humbleness of mind before him. 
 
 ^ Gospel comfort cannot be enjoyed, till the soul is convinced of the evil, and 
 rejects the doctrine of Legality, or trust in any dependance upon our own ■works 
 for justification. This detestable heresy abounds greatly in the present day. 
 
 (a) John ir. 5. (6) Gal. ■»!. 12. 
 
68 THE FALLACIES OF WORLDLV-WISEMAX DETECTEU, 
 
 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 tiic sake of the 
 counsel of a worldly-xvise man. The Lord says, 
 " Strive to enter in at the strait gate" (the gate to which 
 I send thee,) " for strait is the gate that leadeth unto 
 life, and few there be that find it."(a) From this little 
 "Wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath this 
 wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost 
 to destruction. Hate, therefore, his turning thee out of 
 the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him. 
 
 Secondly, thou must abhor his labouring to render 
 the cross odious unto thee ; for thou art to " prefer it 
 before the treasures in Egypt."(*6) Besides, the King 
 of Glory hath told thee, that " he that will save his 
 life shall lose it :" and, " He that comes after me, and 
 hates not his father,, and mother, and wife, and chil- 
 dren, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his o^vn life 
 also, cannot be my disciple. "(c) I say, therefore, for 
 a man to labour to persuade thee that that shall be thy 
 death, without A\hich 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 v\as 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 ;"(r/) and is, in 
 a mystery, this mount Sinai which thou hast feiired 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 Lcgalit}-, therefore, is not able to set thee 
 free from thy burden. No man was as yet ever rid of 
 
 («) Luke xiti. 24. Matt. vii. 1.?, 14. (A) Hcb. xi. 25,20. 
 
 \c) Matt. X. 37— S9. Mark viii. 34. 35. Luke xW. 26, 27. John xii. 2' 
 
 (</) Ual. IT. 21 — 27. 
 
THE PRETENSIONS OF LEGALITY CONFUTED. 69 
 
 his burden by him ; no, nor ever is Hke 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 bur- 
 den : therefore, Mr. 'Worldly-wiseman is a liar, and Mr. 
 Legality a cheat : and for his son Civility, notwithstand- 
 ing his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and can- 
 not 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 Chris- 
 tian stood, that made the hair of his flesh stand up. 
 The words were thus pronounced : " As many as are of 
 the works of the law are under the curse : for it is writ- 
 ten, Cursed is every one that continueth not in all 
 things which are written in the book of the law to do 
 them. "Kg) 
 
 Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and be- 
 gan 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 gentle- 
 man's arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should 
 have the prevalency with him as to cause him to for- 
 sake the right way. This done, he applied himself 
 again to Evangelist in words and sense as follo^v : 
 
 * The gospel pays no respect to demure looks, and a sanctified face ; but pro- 
 nounces such cheats, hypocrites, and beguilers, who turn souls from the cross of 
 Christ, and the way of salvation by him, to trust in any wise to their own works 
 for justification and salvation. 
 
 f Legality is as great an enemy to the cross of Christ, as Licentiousness : for it 
 keeps the soul from coming to, believing in, and trusting wholly to the blood of 
 Christ, for pardon, and the righteousness of Christ for justification ; so that it 
 keeps the soul in bondage, and swells the mind with pride, wliile Licentiousness 
 Irings a scandal on the cross. 
 
 («) Gal. iii. 10. 
 
70 CHRISTI.VN ENCOURAGED BY EVAKGELIST. 
 
 Sir,* what think you ? Is there any hope ? May I 
 now go back, and go up to the Wicket-gate ? Shall 1 
 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 ? 
 
 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. "(a) — Then 
 did Christian address himself to go back, and Evangel- 
 ist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile and 
 bid him God speed. f So he went on with haste, nei- 
 ther 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 vvay| which he left to follow 
 Mr. Worldly- Wiseman's counsel. 
 
 • Christian enquires if he may yet be liappy. Legal hopes will bring on distress 
 of soul, and despondency of spirit, as well as outward sins ; there is no hope of a 
 sinner's being comforted by the cross of Christ, till he is made sensible of this. 
 
 ■\ Nothing but the gospel of Christ can direct our steps in the right way, and 
 bring peace and comfort to our souls. It salutes us with a cheering smile^ a kiss 
 of pence, and a blessing of consolation ; and hence it wings our peace to Christ 
 and holiness. 
 
 t The faithful minister must warn young converts not to turn aside ; nor can 
 any soul ever find confidence or comfort, till they arc conscious of having regained 
 ihe way they had forsaken. 
 
 (a) Psal. ii. \S. 
 
HE IS ADMITTED AT THE WICKET-GATE. 71 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ARRIVES AT THE WICKET-GATE, WHERE HE 
 KNOCKS, AND IS KINDLY RECEIVED. 
 
 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. "(a) 
 
 He knocked therefore more than once or twice,^ 
 saying — 
 
 " May I now enter here ? Will he within 
 Opea to sorry me, though I have been 
 Ad undeserving rebel ! Then shall I 
 Not fail to sing his lasting praise on higb."(a) 
 
 At last there came a grave person to the gate, named 
 Good-v/ili, who asked him who was there ? and whence 
 hfe came ? and what he would liave ? 
 
 Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from 
 the city of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, 
 that I may be delivered from the wrath to come. I 
 would, therefore. Sir, since I am informed that by this 
 gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let 
 me in. 
 
 I am willing with all my heart,! said he. And witli 
 that he opened the gate. 
 
 So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave 
 him a pull.J Then said Christian, What means that ? 
 The other told him, " A little distance from this gate 
 
 * This is praying and pleading in faith with God for mercy and forgiveness of 
 sin through the blood of Jesus Christ. ^ 
 
 f The gate Avill be open to broken-hearted sinners. Here behold the love Oi 
 Jesus, in freely and heartily receiving every poor sinner who conies unto him. No 
 matter how vile they have been nor what things they have committed ; he loves 
 them freely and receives them graciously. For he has nothing but good-will to- 
 wards men. Luke ii. 14. 
 
 4: Every saved sinner is a brand plucked out of the fire by the lovinj; arm of 
 Christ. Zech. iii. 2. 
 
 («) Matt. Tii. 7, 8 
 
72 GOOD-'SVILL DISCOURSES WITH CHRISTIAN. 
 
 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. 
 
 I'hen said Christian, 1 rejoice and tremble. So when 
 he was got in, the man of the gate asked him who di- 
 rected him thither. 
 
 Chr. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, as 
 I did ; and he said that you, Sir, would tell me what I 
 must do. 
 
 Good. " An open door is before thee, and no man 
 can shut it." 
 
 Chr. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my ha- 
 zards. 
 
 Good. But how is it that you come alone ? 
 
 Chr. Because none of my neighbours saw their dan- 
 ger, as I saw mine. 
 
 Good. Did any of them know of your coming ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, my wife and children saw me at the first, 
 and called after me to turn again : also some of my 
 neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return ; 
 but I put ni) fingers in my ears and so came on my way. 
 
 Good. But did none of them follow you, to persuade 
 you to go back ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable: but when 
 they saw that they could not prevail, Obstinate went rail- 
 ing back, but Pliable c:;me with me a little way. 
 
 Good. But why did he not come through. 
 
 Chr. VV^e indeed came both together until we came 
 to the slough of Despond, into the w hich we also sud- 
 denly fell. And then was my neighbour Pliable dis- 
 couraged, aiKl \\ ould not adventure furdier.* Wherefore 
 getting out again on that side next to his own house, he 
 told me 1 should possess the brave country alone for him : 
 so he went his way, and 1 came jiune ; he after Obsti- 
 nate, and 1 to this gate. 
 
 • A mail may liave com]>any •wlu-n lie sets out for heaven, and yet jo tliitlier 
 *lonc. " Many be called, but few chosen." Matt. x.\. IG, 
 
GOOD-WILL CONTINUES HIS DISCOURSE. 73 
 
 Then said Good-will, Alas, poor man ! is the celes- 
 tial glory of so small esteem with him, that he coiinteth 
 it not worth running the hazard of a few difficulties to 
 obtain it ? 
 
 Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Plia- 
 ble ; and if I should also say all the truth of myself, it 
 will appear there is no difference betwixt him and my- 
 self. It is true he went back to his own house, but I 
 also turned aside to go into the way of death, being 
 persuaded thereto by the carnal argument of one Mr. 
 Worldly-wiseman.* 
 
 Good. Oh ! did he light upon you ? What, he would 
 have had you have sought for ease at the hands of Mr. 
 Legality ! they ai"e both of them very cheats. But did 
 you take his counsel ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, as far as I durst. I went to find out Mr. 
 Legality, until I thought that the mountain that stands 
 by his house would have fallen upon my head ; where- 
 fore there I was forced to stop.f 
 
 Good. That mountain has been the death of many, 
 and will be the death of many more. It is well you es- 
 caped being dashed in pieces by it. 
 
 Chr. Why, truly, I do not know what had become 
 of me there, had not Evangelist happily met me again 
 as I was musing in the midst of my dumps : but it was 
 God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I had 
 never come hither. But now I am come, such a one 
 as I am, more fit indeed for death by that mountain, 
 than thus to stand talking with my Lord. But, oh ! 
 
 • Where there is true grace in the heart, it will take sliame to itself, and give 
 all the glory to God's sovereign grace, for any difference there is between us ami 
 Others. Free grace destroys pride, and lays the sinner low, whilst it exalts Christ, 
 and causes the believer to triumph in his righteousness and salvation. 
 
 f Thoush Jesus knows what is in man, and all his ways, yet he will bring the 
 soul to confession unto him. See the loving heart of Christ to sinners, and the 
 free communications he admits them to with himself Oh ! ye his people, pour 
 out your heart before him : God is a refuge for us. Psal. Ixii. 8. 
 
 10 
 
74 CHRISTIAN INSTRUCTED IN THE WAY. 
 
 what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted en - 
 trance here.* 
 
 Good. We make no objections against any, notwith- 
 standing all that they have done before they come hither. 
 *' They in no wise are cast out ;"(a) and therefore, good 
 Christian, come a hltle way with me, and i will teach 
 thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee ; 
 dost tliou see this narrow way ? that is the way thou 
 must go. It was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, 
 Christ, and his apostles, and it is as straight as a rule can 
 make it : this is the way thou must go. 
 
 But, said Christian, f are there no turnings nor wind- 
 ings, by which a stranger may lose his way ? 
 
 Good. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon 
 this, and they are crooked and wide : but thus thou must 
 distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only be- 
 ing :j:straight and narrow. (<i>) 
 
 • It is a sure sign of a genuine work of grace, when the heart ascribes all to 
 grace. Here is no ascribing any thing to his own wisdom or power : but his escape 
 from destruction, and being yet in ihe way of salvation, are wholly resolved into 
 the grace of the gospel, the mercy of God, and in his free favour, and almighty 
 ]>o\ver. It is sweet to convei-se with Jesus, of his free grace to wretched and un- 
 worthy sinners. Do not you find it so ? 
 
 f Christian is afraid of losing his M'ay ; a blessed sign of a gracious heart, when 
 jl possesses godly jealous)-. 
 
 t Christian, being admitted at the sti-nit gate, is directed in the narrow way. 
 In the broad road every man may choose a path suited to his inclinntinns, shift 
 about to avoid difTiculties, or accomino«l;ae himself to circumstances ; and he will 
 be sure of company agreeably to his taste. Hut Chrisii:ms must follow one another, 
 in the lun-rtrw way along the same track, surmounting difficulties, facirig enemies, 
 and bearing hardships, without any room to evade them : nor is any inclulgcnce 
 given to dilVcrent tastt-s, habits, or propeubitic"*. It is therefore a strtiilcneiL, or, 
 as some render the word, an ojticted -way ; being inileeil an habitual course of 
 repentance, faith, love, self-»lenial, patiince ; in a word, a full conformity to the 
 •will of God, according to the scriptures. Christ himself is the way, by which we 
 come to the Father; and by living f.iiib which works by love, we are " set in the 
 way of his steps." This path is also stiaiif.lJ, as opposed to the crooked ways 
 v»f men ; for it consists in au unifornt regard to piety, integrity, sincerity, and 
 kindness, at a distance i'lnm all the byjjocrisies, frauds, and artifices, by whicii 
 ungodly men wind about to avoid detection, keep up tht-ir credit, deceive others, 
 <>r impose on themselves. The question proposed by Christian implies that be- 
 lievers are more Hfruid of missing the wa) than of encountering hardships in it ; 
 and Goo(l-\\ ill's answer, that many ways bulled down on it, or opened into it, in 
 ^ai ious directions, shows, that the careless and self-willed are e.Mremely liable ir 
 
 (") Joiin vi. 37. (A) Matt vii. 13, 14. 
 
CHRISTIAN ITSISTRUCTED IN THE WAY. 75 
 
 Then I saw in my dream that Christian asked him 
 further, if he could not help him off with the 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 at the house of the Interpreter, at 
 whose door he should knock, and he would show him 
 excellent things. Then Christian took his leave of his 
 friend, and he again bid him God speed. 
 
 be deceived : but it follows tbat all these ways are crooked and ivide ; they turn 
 aside from the direct line of living faith and holy obedience, and are more soothing, 
 indulgent and pleasing to corrupt nature, than the path of life : which lies straight 
 forward, and is every where contrary to the bias of the carnal mind. 
 
 * There is no deliverance from the guilt and burden of sin, but by the death of 
 Christ. Here observe, that though a sinner, at his first coming to Christ, find 
 some comfort and encouragement, yet he may not for some time have a clear sense 
 of pardon and assurance of the forgiveness of his sins but he may still feel the bur- 
 den of them. But by faith in Jesus he shall be adopted into the family of heaven. 
 
76 TlIE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CHRISTIAN DELIGHTFULLY ENTERTAINED AT THE 
 INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. 
 
 Then Christian went on till he came to the house 
 of the Interpreter,* where he knocked over and over : 
 at last one came to the door and asked who was there ? 
 
 Chr. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an ac- 
 quaintance of the good man of this house to call here 
 for my profit ; I would therefore speak with the master 
 of the house. So he called for the master of the house, 
 ■who after a little time came to Christian, and asked him 
 what he ^vould have ? 
 
 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 die gate 
 at the head of this way, that if I called here you Avould 
 show me excellent things, such as would be a help to 
 me in my journey. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will sho^v 
 thee that ^\'hich will be profitable to thee.f So he com- 
 manded his manj to light a candle, and bid Christian 
 follow him : so he had him into a private room, and bid 
 his man open a door : the which when he had done, 
 Christian saw the picture of a very grave person hang 
 lip against the wall ; and this was the fashion of it : 
 *' it had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in 
 its hand, the law of truth was written upon its lips, the 
 
 • Chrisiiaii corncs to tlie liouse of the Interpreter : -wliicli means the Lord llic 
 Spirit, tlie teacher of his people — The Interpreter is an embleiu of the <li*inc 
 teacliing of the Holy Spiril, according to the Scripture, by means of reading, 
 Iiearing, praying and meditating, accompanied by ilaily experience and observa- 
 tion. IJelievors depend on this teaf.hiiig, and are not satisfied with liunian inslnic- 
 tion, but look to the fountain of wisdom, that they may be tlelivcred from preju- 
 dice, preserved from error, and enabled to profit by the ministry of the word. 
 
 ■\ () how lc)>ing, liow condesceuUiiig is the Spirit of God lo poor iilhciabie 
 sinners ! 
 
 -i lUunibatioD is here sieQilJcc'. 
 
THE PICTURE OF THE.PILGJRTM'S GUIDE. 77 
 
 world was behind its back ; it stood as if it pleaded with 
 men, and a crown of gold did hang over its head." 
 
 Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? 
 
 Inter?. The man whose picture this is, is one of a 
 thoiisand ; he can beget children, (a) travail in birth with 
 children, (/^) and nurse them himself when they are 
 born. And whereas thou seest him with his eyes lifted 
 up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, and the law 
 of truth written on his lips ; it is to show thee that his 
 work is to know and unfold dark things to sinners ; even 
 as also thou seest him stand as if he pleaded with men : 
 and whereas thou seest the world as cast behind him, 
 and that a crown hangs over his head ; that is to show 
 thee, that slighting and despising the things that are pre- 
 sent, for the love that he hath to his Master's service, 
 he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory 
 for his reward. Now, said the Inteq3reter, I have 
 shewed thee this picture first, because the man whose 
 picture this is, is the only man whom tl'^e Lord of the 
 place whither thou art going hath authorized to be thy 
 guide, in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in 
 the way : wherefore take good heed to what I have 
 shewed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast 
 seen ; lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pre- 
 tend 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 parlour that was full of dust, because never 
 
 • This is a ti-ue picture of a gospel minister : one whom the Lord the Spirit 
 has called and qualified for preaching the everlasting gospel, he is one who despises 
 the world, is dead to its pleasures and joys: his chief aim is to exalt and glorifv 
 the Lord Jesus, his atoning blood, justifying righteousness, and finishing salvation"; 
 and his greatest glory is to bring sinners to Christ, to point him out as the one way 
 to them, and to edify and build up saints in him. But there are many who profess 
 to do this, yet turn poor sinners out of the way, and point them to arighteousnesa 
 of their own for justification, in whole or in part. Of these the Spirit teaches us to 
 beware : the former, he leads and directs souls to love and esteem him highly for 
 their labours and faith in tlie Lord, and zeal for his honour and glory, and for the 
 fiHlvatioa of souls. Take heed what you hear. Mark iv. 24. 
 
 (a) 1 Cor. iv. 15. . (i) Gal. iv. 19. 
 
78 THE DUSTY PARLOUR SPRINKLED AND CLEANSED. 
 
 swept ; the which, after he had reviewed a little while, 
 the Interpreter called for a man to sweep. Now when he 
 began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly 
 about, that Christian had almost therewith been choak- 
 ed. 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. 
 
 Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 
 The Interpreter answered, This parlour is the heart 
 of a man that was never sanctified by the sweet grace 
 of the gospel : the dust is his original sin and inward 
 corruptions, that have defiled the whole man. He that 
 began to sweep at first is the law ; but she that brought 
 water and did sprinkle it, is the gospel. Now whereas 
 thou sawest that, so soon as the first began to sweep, 
 the dust did so fly about, that the room by him could 
 not be cleansed, but tliat thou \vast almost choaked 
 therewith ; this is to show thee, that the law, instead of 
 cleansing the heart, by its working, from sin, doth re- 
 vive, put strength into, and increase it in the soul, even 
 as it doth discover and forbid it ; for it doth not give 
 power to subdue it. (fit) 
 
 Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room 
 with water, upon ^vhich it was cleansed A\'ith pleasure : 
 this is to show thee, that when the gospel comes in the 
 sweet and precious influences thereof to tlie iieart, 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 laith of 
 it, and consequently fit for the King of glory to inha- 
 bit.*(^) 
 
 • Now jiidnje by this, whether you are under the law, or the gospel. Have 
 you ever found in yourself what is here described? 1st. Of the hiw, have you 
 ever felt yoni- lusts and corruptions irritated- and sin made to abound in you, as to 
 your perception anil feeling, by the commandment working in you all manaer of 
 
 («) Rom. V. 20. vii. 7—11. 1 Cor. xv. 50. 
 (A) John xiv. 21—23, xv. 3. AcU w. 9. Bom, ivi, 25, 26. Eph. v. 28. 
 
PASSION AND PATIENCE. 79 
 
 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 oi" the eldest was Passion, and the name of 
 the other Patience. Passion seemed to be much dis- 
 contented, but Patience was very quiet. Then Chris- 
 tian asked. What is the reason of the discontent of 
 Passion? The Interpreter answered. The governor of 
 them would have him stay for his best things till the 
 beginning of the next year ; but he will have all now. 
 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. 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this 
 matter more fully to me. 
 
 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 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 ail the 
 divine testimonies of the good of the world to come. 
 But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all 
 
 concupiscence ? for without the law sin was dead. Rom. vii. 8. Has the applica- 
 tion of the law to your conscience made sin to revive in yeu, so as that you died 
 to all your former hopes of being justified by your obedience to the law ? If not, 
 you are yet dead in sin, and cleave to legal hopes and vain confidence. But if 
 through the law you become dead to the law, has the gospel come to you with its 
 reviving, comforting, sanctifying influence ? Has it made Christ's blood and righ- 
 teousness precious to your soul, and given you the victory of faitU over the \a\iT 
 »in, and death ? If so, go on your way rejoicing. 
 
80 THE EMBLEM EXPLAINED. 
 
 away, and had presently left him nothing but rags ; so 
 ■will it be with all such men at the end of this world.* 
 
 Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has 
 the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts : — be- 
 cause he stays for the best things : — and also because 
 he will have the glory of his, when the other has no- 
 thing but rags. 
 
 Inter p. Nay, you may add another, to wit, — the 
 glcry 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 Pas- 
 sion because he had his best things last ; for Jirst must 
 gi\'e place to last, because last must have its time to 
 come ; but last gives place to nothing, for there is not 
 another to succeed : he, therefore, that hath his portion 
 Jirst must needs have a time to spend it ; but he that 
 has his portion last must have it lastingly : therefore it 
 is said of Dives, " In thy life-time thou receivedst thy 
 good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things ; but 
 now he is comforted, and thou art tormented. "(a) 
 
 Chr. Then I perceive it is not best to covet diings 
 tliat are now, but to wait for things to come. 
 
 Inter p. You say truth: "For the things that arc 
 secnan^ temporal ; but the things that are not seen are 
 eternal ;''\b) but, though this be so, yet since things 
 present and our fleshly appetite are such near neigh- 
 bours one to another ; and again, because things to 
 come and carnal sense are such strangers one to ano- 
 ther ; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly 
 
 • Carnal men seek nothing more than the gratification of their senses ; their 
 end will he ihr loss of all thinj^s and the destruction of thiir own souls. Rut the 
 just livi- bv faith on .Itsus, and in ho\ir of joys to como ; their end will he glorious ; 
 for the) siiall receive the end of their faitii, the salvation of their souls, and llrts 
 everlasting enjoyment of Christ in glory. 
 
 («) Luke xvi. 19—31. (6) 2 Cor. iv. 19. 
 
THE FIRE SECRETLY KEPT FROM BEING QUENCHED. 81 
 
 fall into amittj^ and that distance is so continually be- 
 tween 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 backside of the wall, where he saw 
 a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of which he did 
 also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire. 
 
 Then said Christian, What means this ? 
 
 The Interpreter answered. This is Christ, who con- 
 tinually with the oil of his gi'ace maintains the work al- 
 ready begun in the heart : by the means of which, not- 
 withstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his 
 people prove gracious still.(c) And in that thou saw- 
 cst that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the 
 fire ; this is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempt- 
 ed to see how this work of grace is maintained in the 
 soul.f 
 
 • Here see the preciousness and glory of faith ; it causeth the soul to make a 
 proper estimate, and set a due value on things : it pierce-tli through the objects of 
 time and sense, and fixes upon glory and eternity. This is the proper character 
 of ever)' heaven-born soul ; the just shall live by faith. Heb. ii. 4. This is a life 
 of heaven upon earth. 
 
 ■(■ It is plain Mr. Bunyan did not ascribe that glory to the woik and power of 
 the creature, which is due solely to the Lord, who is the Alpha and Omega, tlie 
 First and the Last, the Beginner, Carrier on, and Finisher of his work in sinners' 
 hearts; and never can his work be extinguished there, till Satan's water is more 
 powerful to quench, than Christ's oil and grace are to keep the fire burning. The 
 instruction especially inculcated by this emblem is, an entire reliance on the' secret 
 but powerful influence of divine grace, to maintain and carry oa the sanctifyiii'< 
 work that has been beguu in the the soul. ' " 
 
 («) 2 Cor. Hii. 9. 
 11 
 
82 THE VALIANT MAN'S CONFLICT AND VICTORY. 
 
 I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the 
 hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was 
 biiilded 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, \vho 
 were clothed all in gold. 
 
 Then said Christian, May we go in thither ? 
 
 Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up to- 
 wards 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 si\t a man at a little dis- 
 tance from the door, at a table side, with a book and 
 his inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that 
 should enter therein ; he saw also that in the door- way 
 stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved 
 to do to the men that would enter ^\ hat hurt and mis- 
 chief 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 \ery stout 
 countenence come up to the man that sat there to write, 
 sa} ing, " Set down my name, Sir ;" the which when 
 he had done, he saw the man draw his s\\ ord, and put 
 an helmet upon his head, and rush toward tlie door up- 
 on the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly 
 force ; but the man was not at all discouraged, but fell 
 to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had* 
 received and given many wounds to those that attempt- 
 ed to keep him out, he cut his \vi\y through them all, 
 and pressed forward into the palace ; at which there 
 was a pleasant voice heard from those that \vere within, 
 even of those that \valked upon the top of the palace, 
 saying, 
 
 *' Come in, come in; 
 Eternal glory ihou shalt win." 
 
 * We must through much trihulutioa enter into the kingdom of God. 
 Acts xiv. '2'i. 
 
THE MAN IN THE IRON CAGE. o^ 
 
 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.f 
 
 Then said Christian to the man, What art thou ? The 
 man answered, I am what I was not once. 
 
 Chr. What wert thou once ? 
 
 The man said, J I was once a far and flourishing 
 professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of 
 odiers : I once was, as I thought, fair for the celestial 
 city,fa) and had then even joy at the thoughts that I 
 should get thither. § 
 
 Chr! Well, but what art thou now ? 
 
 • Snch is the spirit and disposition of a soul who is determined to win Christ, 
 and to enjoy the kingdom of glory. In spite of all opposition he resolutely forces 
 his wav, and presses towards" the mark for the prize of his high calling of God iu 
 Jesus Christ. Phil, iii I4. He is not content with a few lazy wishes, or languid 
 hopes ; for the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the violent take it by- 
 force. Mat. xi. 12 . ^ ,. , , r .u 
 
 + The Holy Spirit would have us take warning by the sad examples of others. 
 Hen6e he sets before us in the Scripture, the dreadful things which have fallea 
 professors, that we may see our danger, be humble, and watchful, and pray to 
 the Lord to keep us from falling away. 
 
 + Most dreadful change ! Think of it with trembling. Thou standest by faith ; 
 be not high-minded, but fear. 
 
 § Soaring professors, bewai-e. See how far this man went ; see what he thought 
 of himself; see what others thought of him ; yea, he felt great joy in himself at 
 the thoughts of getting to heaven ; but yet through unfaithfulness despair seized on 
 him. *'"Let us watch and be sober." 1 Thess. v. G. 
 
 (f/)Luke viii. M. 
 
84 CHRISTIAN INTERROGATES HIM. 
 
 Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up 
 in it as in this iron cage. I cannot get out ; O 720W I 
 cannot.* 
 
 Chr. But how earnest thou in this condition ? 
 
 Man. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the 
 reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the 
 light of the word, and the goodness of God : 1 have 
 grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the Devil, 
 and he is to come to me ; I have provoked God to an- 
 ger, and he has left me ; 1 have so hardened my heart, 
 that I cannot repent, f 
 
 Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there 
 no hope for such a man as this ? Ask hmi, said the In- 
 terpreter. 
 
 Then said Christian, Is there no hope but you must 
 be kejn in the iron cage of despair ? 
 
 Man. No, no^>c at all. 
 
 Chb Why? die Son of the Blessed is verv piti- 
 ful. 
 
 Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh ; I have 
 despised his person, I have despised his righteousness, 
 I have counted his blood an unholy thing. I have done 
 despite to the S})irit of grace :{a) therefore I have shut 
 myself out of all the promises, and there now remains 
 to me nothing but thrcatenings, dreadful threatenings, 
 fearful threatenings, of certain judgnient and fiery indig- 
 nation which shall devour me as an adversar} .f 
 
 * a more drcwirnl state on tliis side )icll cannot be. 
 
 ■f Au awful warning to profi'ssors. O take heed of trifling with tlic God of trulli, 
 and the trutlis of Cioil ! he is a jealous <iod ! jealous of his lionour and glory. 
 Yea our God is a consuming fire Hcb xii. 29. 
 
 ■^ Iti,s cxcecdinRdiflicult lodniw the line here, so .is not to encourage in sin, or 
 not disco<ir.'>ge broken-hearted sinners from entertaining hope in Christ. Many 
 have written the s:ime bitter tilings against themselves as here, but to whom they 
 have in no-wise belonged. A siglit of sin, a sense of sin, und sorrow for sin, with 
 a jlesire to be s.ive<l by Jesus from all sin, as well as from wrath, do really bespeak 
 the workings of the grace of Christ in the heart. 
 
 Co) Luke xix. lU Hcb. vi. 4—6. x. 28, 29. 
 
A DREAM CONCERNING THE DAY OF JUDGMENT. 85 
 
 Chr. For what did you bring yourself into this con- 
 dition ? 
 
 Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this 
 world ; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise 
 myseil" much delight : but now every one of those 
 things also bite me and gnaw me like a burning worm. 
 
 Chr. But canst thou not repent and turn ? 
 
 Man. God hath denied me repentance. His w'ord 
 gives me no encouragement to believe : yea, himself 
 hath shut me up in this iron cage ; nor can all the men 
 in the world let me out. O eternity! eternity! how 
 shall I grapple with the misery that t must meet with 
 in eternity ? 
 
 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this 
 man's misery be remembered by thee, and be an ever- 
 lasting caution to thee. 
 
 Well, said Christian, this is fearful ! God help me to 
 watch and 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 ?f 
 
 Inter p. 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 rea- 
 son of his so doing. So he began and said, This night 
 as I was in my sleep I dreamed, and, behold the hea- 
 vens 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 
 
 • Reader, thou hast constant need to put up this prayer for thyself. Thou art 
 in a hody of sin, hast a most deceitful and desperately wicked heart? and arC 
 exposed to the world's snaresi and satan's devices. 
 
 f Why in such haste, Christian ? Poor soul, he had yet got the hurden of his 
 sins upon his back ; this urged his speed. He wanted to get to the cross, to be 
 delivered of his burden ; but the Spirit had many things to shew him first, which 
 would be profitable to him hereafter. *• He who belieyetb shall not make haste." 
 I?aii\h sxviii. 16, 
 
S5 THE DREAM CONTINUED. 
 
 clouds rack at an unusual rate ; upon wliich I heard a 
 great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon 
 a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven : they 
 were all in flaming fire, also the heavens were on a 
 burninf^ 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 daid that \\ere 
 therein came forth :{a) some of them were exceeding 
 glad, and looked upwards : and some sought to liide 
 tliemselves under the mountains :(/;) tlicn I sa\v the 
 man that sat upon the cloud open the book and bid the 
 Avorld draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce 
 flame which issued out and came before him, a conve- 
 nient distance betwixt him and them, as betwixt the 
 judge and the prisoners at the bar.(c) I heard it also 
 proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat 
 on the cloud, " Gather togetlier the tares, the chaff", 
 and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake :" 
 and with that the bottomless pit opened just where- 
 about 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, 
 *' Gatlier my wheat into the garner."(f/) And with 
 that I saw many catched up and carried away into the 
 clouds,(6') but I \vas left behind. I also sought to hide 
 myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon the 
 cloud still kept his eye upon me : my sins also came 
 in my mind, and my conscience did accuse me on 
 every side.(y) Upon this I awaked from my sleep. 
 
 Chr. But what was it that made you so afraid of 
 this sight ? 
 
 Man. Why I thought that the day of judgment 
 was come, and that I \\as not ready for it ; but this 
 
 <«) John V. 28, 29. 1 Cor. xv. 51— 5S. 2 Thoss. i. 7—10. Jutlc U,I5. Rev. xx. 
 
 11_15. (h) Ps.K i_3. 22. Isa. xxvi. 20, 21. Mic vii. 16, 17. (r) Dan. 
 
 vii. 9) JO. Mai. iii. 2, 3. {rl) Mai. iv. 1. Mat. iii. 12. xiii. 30. Luke 
 
 iii. 17. (<■) 1 Thcss. iv. 13—18. (/) Roin. n. li, 15. 
 
THE DREAM CONTINUED. 87 
 
 frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several 
 and left me behind ; also the pit of hell opened her mouth 
 just where I stood. My conscience too afflicted me ;*• 
 and, as I thought, the Judge had always his eye upon 
 me, showing indignation in his countenance. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou con- 
 sidered all these things ? 
 
 Chr. Yes ; and they put me in hope and fear.f 
 Inter p. Well, keep all things so in thy mind, that 
 they may be as a goad in thy sides, to prick thee for- 
 ward in the way thou must go. Then Christian began 
 to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his jour- 
 ney. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be al- 
 ways 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 show'd me were ; and let me be 
 Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee." 
 
 • Natural men's consciences are often alarmed and terrified, when there are 
 no spiritual convictions ; but such fears and terrors soon wear away, and do not 
 generally issue in conversion. 
 
 f Where there is a gospel hope, there will be a godly fear ; both are necessai-y ; 
 Jfoth are the graces of the Holy Spirit. Fear makes us cautions ; hope animates us. 
 
88 CHRISTIAN'S BURDEN FALLS OFF AT THE CROSS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LOSES HIS BURDEN AT THE CROSS. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that the highway, up which 
 Christian was to go, was I'enced on either side with a 
 wall, and that wall was called Salvation. (a) Up this way 
 therefore did burthened Christian run, but not ^\•ithout 
 great difficulty, because of the load on his back.* 
 
 He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascend- 
 ing, and upon that place stood a Cross, and a little be- 
 low, 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, ^nd fell from off hib 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.f 
 
 Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said 
 with a merry heart, " He hath given me rest b}- his 
 sorrow, and life by his death." Then he stood still 
 awhile 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.(/^) Now, as he stood look- 
 ing and weeping, behold three shining ones came to 
 
 • Our uphill difficulties is tlie way to the greatest comforts. Burdens are more 
 felt when comforts are near at hand. 
 
 f Christian \vm\ faith ; he believed that there was redemption in the Mood of 
 Christ, even forgiveness of sins, before he came up lo the cross, but now he finds 
 an<l feels the comfort of it: Hf has now the jov of faith ; tlie guilt of his sins is 
 taken off his conscience, and he is filled with joy and peace in believinp You m ho 
 believe Christ to be tlie only Sa\ ioiir, go on hi'lieving till you experienci the com- 
 fort of knowing tli.-it he is voitf Saviour, and feel piirdoii in his blood; for when 
 (Jod releases us of our RUilt and biinlen, we are as those that leap for joy ; but 
 you cannot have this till you conte to the cross, and rest all your hopes Upou it. 
 
 (a) Isa. .\.\vi. 1. (6) ZccU. xii. 10. "%" 
 
CHRISTIAN'S EXULTATION. 89 
 
 him, and saluted him widi " Peace be to thee :" so the 
 first said to him, "Thy sins be forgiven thee :"(«) the 
 second stripped him of his rags and clothed him with 
 change of raiment ; the third also set a *mark. on his 
 forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, ((6) 
 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 sio, 
 Nor could aught ease the ^rief that I was in, 
 Till 1 came hither : what a place is this ! 
 Must here be the beginnlDg of my bliss? 
 Must here the burden fall from off my back ? 
 Must here the strings that bind it to me crack ? 
 Blest cross ! blest sepulchre ! blest rather be 
 The Man that there was put to shame for me !" 
 
 • Here is the love and grace of God the Father, God the Son, and God the' 
 Holy Ghost Pray mind ; when God pardons the sinner through the blood of 
 Christ, he also clothes him with the righteousness of Christ. Those who deny 
 Christ's righteousness, never saw the purity of the law ; their own nakedness, nor 
 abhorred the filthy rags of their own righteousness — The author's uniform doc- 
 trine sufficiently shows, that he considered spiritual apprehensions of the nature of 
 the atonement as the only source of genuine peace and comfort. And as the 
 •' mark in the forehead" plainly signifies the renewal of the soul to holiness so . 
 that the mind of Christ may appear in the outward conduct, connected witii an 
 open profession of the faith, while the roll with a seal upon it, denotes scch att 
 assurance of acceptance, as appears most clear and satisfactory, when the believer 
 most attentively compares his views, experiences, desires and purposes, with the 
 holy scriptures, so he could not possibly intend to ascribe such effects to any other 
 agent than the Holy Spirit, who, by enabling a man to exercise all fiiial affections 
 towards God in an enlarged degree, as the " spirit of adojition bears witness" with 
 his conscience, that God is reconciled to him, having pardoned all his sins ; that he 
 is justified by faith, through the blood of Christ ; and that he is a cliild of God, anJ 
 an heir of heaven. These things are clear and intelligible to those who Irave 
 experienced this happy change. 
 
 (a) Mark «. 5: (i) Zech. iii. 4. Eph. i. 1'^. 
 
 12 
 
90 SIMPLE, SLOTW, AND PRESUMPTION. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN FINDS SIMPLE, SLOTH, AND PRESUMPTION FAST 
 ASLEEP — IS DESPISED BY FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY- 
 ASCENDS THE HILL DIFFICULTY — LOSES HIS ROLL, AND 
 FINDS IT AGAIN. 
 
 I SAW then in my dream, that he wtnt on thus even 
 until he came at the bottom, where he saw a httle out 
 of the way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon 
 their heels. The name of the one was Simple, another 
 Sloth, and the third Presumption.* 
 
 Christian then seeing them lie in this case went to 
 them, if peradventure he might awake them ; and cried. 
 You are like to them that sleep on the top of a mast,(a) 
 for the dead sea is under you, a gulf that hath no bot- 
 tom : awake, therefore, and come away ; be willing also, 
 and I will help you off with your irons. He also told 
 them. If he tliat goeth about like a roaring lion comes 
 by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth. ((^) 
 With that they looked upon him, and began to reply 
 in this sort : f Simple said, " 1 see no danger :" Sloth 
 said, " Yet a little more sleep :" and Presumption said, 
 " Every tub must stand upon its own bottom." And so 
 they laid down to sleep again, and Christian went on 
 his wa}'. 
 
 Yet was he troubled to think that men in that dan- 
 ger should so little esteem the kindness of him that so 
 
 • The Lord shews us the misery ami danger of other professors, to give us 
 warnings by the way, and to stir ns up to watchfulness. 
 
 ■j- T'icre is no persuasion will do, if fiod openetli uot the eyes. Rcmeml)er, all 
 is of grace. It is Go<l's grace that quickens, enlightens, converts, justifies, pre- 
 serves, sanctifies, and glorifies. Well may pilgrims sing every step : 
 
 O to grace what mighty debtors. 
 Daily, liourly. Lord, are wc '. 
 
 (a) Prov. ,\xiii. 34. (i>) I Pet. v. 8. 
 
JFORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY. 91 
 
 freely offered to help them, both by the awakening of 
 them, counselHng of them, and proffering to help them 
 off with their irons.* And as he was troubled there- 
 about, he spied two men come tumbling over the wall 
 on the left-hand of the narrow way ; and they made up 
 apace to him. The name of the one was Formalist, and 
 the name of the other Hypocrisy. So, as I said, they 
 drew up unto him, who thus entered with them into 
 discourse. 
 
 Chr. Gentlem.en, whence come you, and whither go 
 you? 
 
 Form, and Hyp. We were born in the land of Vain- 
 Glory, and are going for praise to mount Zi(jn. 
 
 Chr. Why came yoii not in at the gate which stand- 
 eth at the beginning of the way ? Know you not that it 
 is written, that " He that cometh not in by the door, 
 but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and 
 a robber ?"(a) 
 
 ' They said, that to go to the gate for entrance was by 
 all their countrymen counted too far about ; and that, 
 therefore, their usual ^vay was to make a short cut of it, 
 and to climb over the wall, as they had done. 
 
 Chr. But will it not be counted a trespass against the 
 Lord of the city whither we are bound, thus to violate 
 his revealed will ? 
 
 They told him,t that, as for that, he needed not 
 trouble his head thereabout ; for what they did, they 
 had custom for ; and could produce, if need were, tes- 
 timony that would witness it for more than a thousand 
 years. 
 
 But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at 
 law? 
 
 • A Christian spirit feels for others' dangers, and aims and strives to be profita* 
 ble to them. 
 
 t They that come into the way, hat not by the door, think that they can say 
 GOiuethiog in vindication of their own practice. 
 
 (a) John X. 1. 
 
92 CHKISTUN IN VAIN REASONS WITH THEM. 
 
 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, say the}', if we get into the ^\ay, what's 
 the matter which way we get in ? If we are in, we are in: 
 thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in 
 at the gate ; and we are also in the way, that came tum- 
 bling o\er the wall : wherein now is thy condition better 
 than ours ? 
 
 Chr. I walk by the rule of my Master, you walk by 
 the rude working of your fancies. You are counted 
 thieves already by the Lord of the way, therefore I doubt 
 you will not be found true men at the end of the way. 
 You came in by yourselves w ithout his direction, and 
 shall go out by yourselves without his mercy.* 
 
 To this they made but little answ er ; 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 ordhia7icesy they doubted not but 
 they should as conscientiously do them as he ; therefore, 
 said the} , we see not wherein thou differest from us, but 
 by the coat that is on th}- back, which was, as we trow, 
 given thee by some of thy neighbours, to hide the shame 
 of thy nakedness. t 
 
 Chr. By la\\s and ordinances you will not be sav- 
 ed, (o) since you came not in by the door. And as for 
 this coat that is on my back, it was given me by the 
 Lord of the place whither I go ; and that, as you say. 
 
 • Here is the essential (liflTerence between a real Christian and formal hypo- 
 crites ; he takes the woril of" fiixl for the warrant of his faith, and tlie rule of his 
 conduct, which they reject ; for they are left un<ler the power of their natural 
 'nill and carnal reason, and hence they brave it out for a season, with vain hopet 
 and confidences. 
 
 t Tiie {ciorioiis robe of Chi-ist's righteousness, vhicli is put upon every believer, 
 is sill I red at aini hi-ld in contempt by formal professors, 'nho sec not llicir naked- 
 ness and want of covering. 
 
 (a) Gal. ii. 1&. «• 
 
THE HILL DIFFICULTY. 93 
 
 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 1 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 asso- 
 ciates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my 
 shoulders. I will tell to 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 celes- 
 tial 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.f Then I saw that 
 they went on all, save that Christian kept before, who 
 had no more talk but with himself, and that sometimes 
 sighingly,! and sometimes comfortably : also he would 
 be often reading in the roll§ that one of the shining ones 
 gave him, by which he was refreshed. 
 
 I beheld then that they all went on till they came to 
 the foot of the hill Difficulty ;|| at the bottom of which 
 was a spring. There were also in the same place two 
 other ways, besides that which came straight from the 
 
 * Where there is the \vitness of the Spirit, and the seal of the Spirit, that soul 
 will also glory in the righteousness of Christ ; for this is the joy of faith, that Christ 
 is the Lord our righteousness Jer. xxiii. 6 In vain do men talk of inward joy, 
 who reject the clothing of Christ's righteousness. 
 
 ■j" Vain-glorious fools laugh at Christ's hurable pilgrims. 
 
 I What ! sighing already, and just pardoned ? One should expect that he was 
 all joy; nothing but joy. O these are sighs of love, which strangers to spiritual 
 joy know nothing of. 
 
 § This means the assurance which he had from the Spirit, of the free love, free 
 grace, free pardon, free justification, of Christ to his soul. 
 
 II He came to the hill Difficulty ; s way unpleasing to flesh and blood, whicfe 
 proves and tries the siacerity of our faith, »pd the earnestness of our souls, ia 
 our pilgrimage. 
 
 ror. 
 
94 FORMALIST AND HYPOCRISY TURN ASffiE. 
 
 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 wa}- is called Diffi- 
 culty. Christian went now to the spring, and drank 
 thereof to refresh himself,(a) and then began to go up 
 the hill, saying — 
 
 " The hill, thoujjli fiii;li, I covet to ascend, 
 The difficulty will not me offend; 
 For I perceive the way to lite lies here: 
 Come, pluck up, heart, let's neither faint nor fear. 
 Better, though difficulty the right way to go, 
 Thau wrong, though easy, where the end is woe."* 
 
 The other t^vo 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 u ays might meet again with tliat up 
 which Christian went, on the other side of the hill, there- 
 fore they were resolved to go into those ways. Now 
 the name of one of those ways ^vas Danger, and the 
 name of the other Destruction. So the one took the 
 way which is called Danger, which did lead him into a 
 great wood, and the other took directly up the way to 
 Destruction, A\hich led him into a wide field, full of 
 dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose 
 no more.f 
 
 I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the 
 hill, where I perceived he fell from running to going, 
 
 • Depend iipo^ it, pilgiimi some great blessing is at hand, when thou hast 
 •ome great difticully to gra\)ple with and to overcome. — The believer's state or» 
 earth is a slate of trial ; he must meet with difficulties, to prove his faith and 
 lave. The hill Difficulty represents those circumstances which require self-denial 
 and cxcrtioU; aud may signify whatever in our walk proves irksome to flesh and 
 blood. 
 
 t Formalists and hypocrites, as they come easy iuto the way of profession, 
 without any convictions of s!ii to cause them to fly to Christ the Wickct-j.'atc, so 
 they find the easiest path to flesh and blomi, and often perish in Ibe end. 
 
 (a) Isa. xUx. 10. 
 
CHRISTIAN SLEEPS, AND LOSES HiS ROLL, 95 
 
 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 
 arbour made by the Lord of the hill for the refreshing 
 of weary travellers ; thither, therefore, Christian got, 
 where also he sat down to rest him : then he 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 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, say- 
 ing, " Go to the ant thou sluggard ; consider her 
 ways, and be wise, "(a) And with that Christian sud- 
 denly started up, and sped him on his way, and went 
 apace till he came to the top of the hill.f 
 
 Now when he was got up to the top of the hill there 
 came two men running to meet him amain ; the name 
 of the one was Timorous, and of the other Mistrust :i. 
 to whom Christian said. Sirs, what is the matter you 
 run the -wrong way ? Timorous answered, that they 
 WTre going to the city of Zion, and had got up that dif- 
 ficult place : but said he, the further we go the more 
 
 * Happy for Christian that he did not fall into the dream of Antinomian notions, 
 so as to sleep in a false security without his roll. The best of blessings, even spir- 
 itual comforts from the God of grace, thx-ough the infection of our nature, (if we 
 do not watch and pray in faith) are liable to be abused, so as to cause us to sleep 
 when we should be active and diligent in running the heavenly race, looking unto 
 Jesus. 
 
 •j- The Lord loves his people, nor will he suifer them to sleep the sleep of death, 
 — Kn will, oil their stirring up his gift within thetn, shine upon, and revive his 
 gi-aeic'is work. 
 
 + 'I'imiM-ous and Mistrust are great enemies to the Christian's faith, and bring up 
 an evi! report of his way. Listen not to themi but look to God's truth and faith- 
 fulness ; rely on his precious promises, and have your feet shod with the gospel 
 of peace. Who or what shall harm you, if ye be followers of that which is 
 50od, 
 
 (a) Prov. Ti. S. 
 
96 ansTRUST and timorous go back. 
 
 danger \vc meet with ; wherefore we turned, and arc 
 going back again. 
 
 Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lies a couple 
 of Hons 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. 
 
 Then said Christian you make me afraid : but whi- 
 ther shall I flee to be safe ? If I go back to my own 
 country, that is prepared for fire and brimstone, and I 
 shall certainly perish there : if I can get to the celc stial 
 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 lelt 
 in his bosom for his roll, that he might read diercin and 
 be comforted ; but he felt and found it not. Then 
 was Christian in great distress, and knew not w hat to 
 do ; for he wanted that which used to relieve him, and 
 that which should have been his pass into tlie celestial 
 city. Here therefore he began to be much per]5lexed,t 
 and knew not what to do. At last he bethought him- 
 self that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side 
 of the hill ; — and falling down upon his knees he ask- 
 ed God forgiveness for that foolish act, and then went 
 
 • Christian sliakes off fear, by sound scrlptuml reasoning ; even the reasoning 
 of faith, against the fear of the flesh, and mistrust or unbelief. We have always 
 a sure word of prophesy, whereunto we shall do well to take heed. When dan- 
 gers beset, and fears assault, remember whose ye are, and whom ye serve : look 
 to the way you are in, and the end of your faith, even the salvation of your soul. 
 Study the woni of God anil obey it. 
 
 •j- He is perplexed for his roll ; this is right. If we suffer spiritual loss, and arc 
 easv and unconcerned about it, it is a sure sign that we indulge carnal security anil 
 vaiii confidence. Many goon so till they sink into a down-right Antinomian spirit. 
 O beware of this ; for many who abhor the name, yet have drunk into the sj)irit of 
 it, and hence live and walk without spiritual communion wiih God the Fallier, aiwl 
 his Son Jesus Chri9t> and rest contented without the witness of the Sj>irit with 
 their spirits, that they are the children of God. 
 
CHRISTIAN'S SORROWFUL REFLECTIONS. 97 
 
 back to look for his roll. But all the way he went 
 back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Chris- 
 tian's heart ? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he 
 wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so fool- 
 ish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only 
 for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, there- 
 fore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and 
 on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might 
 find the roll that had been his comfort so many times 
 in his journey. He went thus till he came again in 
 sight of the arbour where he sat and slept ; but that 
 sight renewed his sorrow the more, by bringing again, 
 even afresh, his evil of sleeping into his mind.* 
 Thus therefore he now went on bewailing his sinful 
 sleep, saying, "O wretched man that I am!" that I 
 should sleep in the day time! (a) 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 fiesh, which the 
 Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the 
 spirits of pilgrims I How many steps have I took in 
 vain ! Thus it happened to Israel, for their sin they 
 were sent back again by the way of the Red Sea : and 
 I am made to tread those steps with son*ow, 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 to have trod but once :f yea, 
 now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is al- 
 most spent ; — O that I had not slept ! 
 
 * Look to your spirits. Christians, See if you have not after-sorrow for 
 former indulgences. But it is far better to be crying " O wretched man that 1 
 am," than to be alive to carnal confidences, and dead to the desire of spiritual 
 comforts. 
 
 ■f Christian's perplexity, fear, sorrow, remorse, redoubled earnestness, com- 
 plaints, and self-reproachings, when he missed his roll, anr! went back to seek it, 
 exactly suit the experience of numbers, who through unwatchfulness, are brou^hr. 
 into a state of uncertainty. Nothing can afford comfort to a miod that has enjovey 
 
 <o) I Theas. v. 7, 8. Eer. ii. 4, 5. 
 
V3 CHRISTIAN SEEKS AND FINDS HIS ROLI^. 
 
 Now by this time he was come to the arbour again* 
 A\herc for a while he sat clown and wept ; but at last 
 (as God would have it,) looking sorrowfully down un- 
 der the settle, there he spied his roll ; the which he with 
 trembling and haste catched up and put in his bosom. 
 But \\ho can tell how jo}ful this man was \\hen 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 God thanks 
 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 now did he go up the rest of the 
 hill ! — Yet before he got up, the sun went down upon 
 Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity of 
 liis sleeping to his remembrance ; and thus he again 
 began to condole with himself : "O thou sinful sleep! 
 how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my jour- 
 ney ! I must walk without the sun, darkness must co- 
 ver the path of my feet, and I must hear the noise of 
 doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep !" Now 
 also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timo- 
 rous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight 
 of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again. 
 
 nil assurance of the favour of God ; but that love which is " better than life :" 
 and such is the abundant mercy of JehoYalt, that he imparts light and power to 
 ♦ he humlile soul, who, by means of extraordinary diligence, with renewed appli- 
 cation to tlie blood of Jesus, will in time recover his warranted confidence wliich 
 he lost, and God will " restore to him the joy of his salvation :" but he mast as it 
 Mcre, pass repeatedly over the same ground with sorrow, which had it not been 
 for his neghgence, he might have passed at once with comfort. 
 
 • This means a fresli sense of tlie love and peace of God, and joy in the Holy 
 Ghost, through faith in Christ Jesus. Mind with what alacrity and speed Pilgrim 
 now pursues his journey. O this rich blessing cf assurance is not enough prized, 
 and too little sought for by professors. Hut how can any be content without it i 
 It is impossible for theni to he happy, and to rejoice in the Lord, Mithout a real, 
 scriptural assurance of his love and favour. It is this which adds wings to faith, 
 liveliness to hope, joy to love, anti cheerfulness to obedience. Plead the precious' 
 promises: be not content without the enjoyment of the blessings contained ii> 
 ihem. Says our Lord, " Ask and ye shall receive, that your joy may be lull," 
 John xvi. '24. 
 
THE PALACE BEAUTIFUL. 99 
 
 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. But, while he was be- 
 wailing his unhappy miscarriage, he lifted 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. 
 
 • Hitherto Christian has been a solitary pilgrim ; but we must next consider 
 him as admitted to the communion of the faithful, and joining with them in the 
 most solemn public ordinances. This is represented under the emblem of the 
 House Beautiful, and the pilgrim's entertainment in it, as described in the sub- 
 sequent pages. Mr. Bunyan here manifests much candour and liberality of senti- 
 ment ; and his representations may suit the admission of any new members intf» 
 the society of professed Christians in any communion, where a serious regard to 
 spiritual religion is in this respect maintained. 
 
 It certainly would be very desirable, that Chi'istian societies should be formed 
 according to the principles here exhibited : such would indeed be very beautijitl^ 
 honourable to God, conducive to mutual edification, and examples to the world 
 around them. Difterent expedients have been adopted for thus promoting the 
 communion of saints ; the advantages resulting therefrom have been incalculable ; 
 but surely even more might be done, than is at present, perhaps any where, were 
 ajl concerned to attempt it boldly, earnestly, and with united eftbrts. 
 
TOO THE POUTER QUESTIONS CHRISTIAN. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRTSTTAX SAFELY PASSES THE LTONS ; AND ARRIVES AT THE 
 HOUSE CALLED BEAUTIFUL, WHERE HE IS KINDLY RECEIV- 
 ED, AND AGREEABLY ENTERTAINED. 
 
 So I saw in my dream, tliat he made haste and went 
 forward, tliat if possible he might get lodging there. 
 Now before he had gone far he entered into a very nar- 
 row passage, which was about a furlong off the Porter's 
 lodge ; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, 
 he spied two lions in the way.* Now, thought he, I 
 see tlie danger 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 ?{a) 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 
 unio 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 
 
 • The two lions may signify to us, the roaring of the ilevil and the world a{;ninst 
 us : h' t both arc chained, they cannot Ro one hnk beyond what our God permits. 
 Sometinus we may not sec the cliain. and uti scriptural fears may beset us. But this 
 is the watch-word of our Lord, FEAR NOT. 
 
 (a) Mark iv. 40. 
 
DISCRETION COMES OUT TO HIM. 101 
 
 came and stood before the gate where the Porter \vas.* 
 Then said Christian to the Porter, Sir, what house is 
 this ? and, may I lodge here to-night ? The Porter an^ 
 swered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, 
 and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. 
 The Porter also asked whence he was ? and whither he 
 was going ? 
 
 Chr. I am come from the city of Destruction, and 
 am going to mount Zion ; but, because the sun is now 
 set, "l desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. 
 
 PoR. What is your name ? 
 
 Chr. My name is now Clii'istian," but my name at 
 the first was Graceless ;t 1 came of the race of Japheth, 
 whom God will persuade to dwell in the tents of 
 Shem.(a) 
 
 PoR. But how doth it happen that you come so late ^ 
 The sun is set. 
 
 Chr. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man 
 that I am ! I slept in the arbour that stands on the hilf^ 
 side. Nay, I had, notwithstanding that, been here much 
 sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evidence,| and 
 came without it to the brow of the hill ; and then feeling 
 for it, and finding it not, I was forced, with sorrow of 
 heart,^ to go back to the place where I slept my sleep ; 
 where I found it, and now I am come.§ 
 
 PoR. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this 
 place, who will, if she like your talk, bring you in to 
 
 • A minister of Christ, one who is watchful for the good of souls. O how 
 precious are they to pilgrims' hearts ! See the sweet encouragement and blessed 
 advice Pilgrim obtained from him. 
 
 f O soul, did jou ever know that this was your name ? Hast thou tasted that 
 the Lord is rich in grace to graceless sinners ! O then sing of free grace and un- 
 merited love, every step of thy pilgrimage. , _ 
 
 4: Look well to your roll. Beware of losing yonr assurance. See the evil of it ; 
 it keeps the soul back. Many have lost it, and have never found it. 
 
 § None ought to be admitted into the church of Christ, but such as can give 
 good evidence that they are the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus, and ave 
 sincere pilgrims in the way to the heavenly city. 
 
 (a) Ge«. ix. 27. 
 
102 DISCRETION INTRODUCES HIM TO THE FAMILY. 
 
 the rest of the family, according to the rules of the 
 house. So Watchful the Porter rang a bell, at the sound 
 of which came out at the door of the house a grave and 
 beautiful damsel, named Discretion,* and asked why 
 she was called ? 
 
 The Porter answered, This man is in a journey from 
 the city of Destruction to mount Zion ; but being \veary 
 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 in the way ? and he told her. Then she asked 
 him what he had seen and met with in the \vay ? 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 die 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 Pru- 
 dence, Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more dis- 
 course with him, had liim 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 fol- 
 lowed 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 
 
 Admitting members into churches, shoQld be done with disctetioa* 
 
PIETY DISCOURSES WITH CHRISTIAN. 103 
 
 appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity, to dis- 
 course with him ; and thus they began.* 
 
 Pi. Come, good Christian, since we have been so 
 loving to you 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. 
 
 Chr. With a veiy good will ; and I am glad that you 
 are so well disposed. 
 
 Pi. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a 
 pilgrim's hfe ? 
 
 Chr. I was driven out of my native country by a 
 dreadful sound that was in mine ears : to wit, that una- 
 voidable destruction did attend me if I abode in that 
 place where 1 was. 
 
 Pi. But how did it happen that you came out of youf 
 country this ^vay ? 
 
 Chr. It was as God would have it ; for when I was 
 under the fears of destruction, I did not know whither 
 to go ; but by chance there came a man, even to me as 
 I was trembling and weeping, whose name is Evange- 
 list, and he directed me to the Wicket- gate, which else 
 I should never have found, and so set me into the way 
 that hath led me directly to this house. 
 
 Pi. But did not you come by the house of the In- 
 terpreter ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and did see such things there, the re- 
 membrance 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.f 
 
 * The blessedness of savoury, experimental couvereationi with fellow-piU, 
 grims. 
 
 ■\ Hope and fear should acconapany us every step of our journey. Withour 
 true piety theri can be no real diristianity. 'I Iia ]j«r<1 sliows us taanv tliinss in 
 
104 HE RELATES WHAT HE HAD SEEN IN THE WAT. 
 
 Pi. Why, did you licar him tell his dream? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, 1 thought ; it 
 made my heart ache as he was telling of it ; but yet I 
 am glad I heard it. 
 
 Pi. Was this all you saw at the house of the Inter- 
 preter ? 
 
 Chr. No ; he took me and had me where he shewed 
 me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in 
 gold that \vere 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. 1 would have staid at that 
 good man's house a twelve- month, but that 1 knew I 
 had further to go. 
 
 Pi. And what saw you else in the way ? 
 
 Chr. Saw ! Why, 1 went but a little further, and I 
 saw one, as I thought in my mind, h^ng blccdmg up- 
 on a tree ; and the very sight of him made niy burden 
 fall oft' my back, (for I groaned under a very heavy bur- 
 den, but then it fell down from oft' me.) It was a 
 strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing belore : 
 yea, and while I stood looking up (lor dien 1 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 thib embroidered 
 coat which you see ; and the third set the mark w Inch 
 you see in my forehead, and gave me this bCaled roll : 
 (and with that he plucked it out of his bosom.)* 
 
 Pi. But you saw^ more than this, did you nut ? 
 
 our way concerning the cases of otliers, to niake us fear falling awaj ; while he 
 displays the gloiy of his grace in keeping his saints, to aiiiniate our hope on his 
 power, and trust in his grace. Look unto Jesus. 
 
 ■ A blessed scriptural experience of what the Lord had done for his soul ; quite 
 necessary for everj' one, before a<lnussioii into the church of (yhrist. For want of 
 this, many who are joined, prove of no profit to aihrr souls, and get no good to 
 their own. A mere profrssion of Chi-ist, without an fvpiiiince of his lovi', grace, 
 and peace, being scaled upon the heart by llie Spirit the Comforter, is nothing but 
 empty speculation. 
 
HE IS INTERROGATED BY PRUDENCE. 105 
 
 Chr. The things that I have told you were the best ; 
 yet some other matters I saw ; as, namely, I saw three 
 men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie asleep a lit- 
 tle 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 now, I thank God, I am here ; and I thank you 
 for receiving of me. 
 
 Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few ques- 
 tions, and desired his answers to them. 
 
 Pru. Do you not think sometimes of the country 
 from whence you came ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, but with much shame and detestation : 
 truly, if I had been mindful of that country from 
 whence I came out, I might have had opportunity to 
 have returned ; but now I desire a better countr}', that 
 is, an heavenly one.(c) 
 
 Pru. Do you not yet bear away with you some of 
 the things that then you were conversant withal ?* 
 
 Chr. Yes, but greatly against my will ; especially 
 my inward 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 of 
 that which is best, that which is worst is with mc.(/;) 
 
 • Prudence must be joined to piety. Christian prudence should be visible in 
 every step of the professor; for, says Solomon, *' I wisdom dwell with prudence. " 
 Prov. viii. 12. and " the wisdom of the prudent is to understand his way," xiv. S. 
 / His path is peace, and his end salvation. 
 
 (a) Heb. xi. f6. (h) Rom. m IP; 
 
 14 
 
106 PRUDENCE ASKS HlAf Or HIS INWARD EXPERIENCE, 
 
 Pru. Do you not find sometimes as if those things 
 ^vcre vanquished, wliich at other times are your per- 
 plexity ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom ; but they are 
 to me golden hours in which such things happen to 
 me. 
 
 Pru. Can you remember by what means you find 
 your annoyances at times as if tliey were vanquish- 
 ed ?' 
 
 Chr. Yes : when I think on what I saw at the cross, 
 that will do it ; and when I look upon my embroidered 
 coat, that \\'ill do it ; and w hen 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, tliat will 
 do it> 
 
 Pr u. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go 
 to mount Zion ? 
 
 Chr. Why, there I hope to see him alive that did 
 hang dead on the cross : and tl-iere I hope to be rid of 
 all those things, that to this day are in me, an annoy- 
 ance to me ; there they say there is no death ;(a) and 
 there shall 1 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 in- 
 ward sickness. I would fain be where I shall die no 
 more, and with the company that shall continually cry, 
 " Holy, holy, holy."t 
 
 Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family ? 
 are you a married man ? 
 
 • Mind this. By bclicvint; his pardon by the blood of Christ, tho love of God 
 ' '■■■ *' ■ "" "'' ' ■" '^-•■•- ' '" - -"' — -"■ ' eaven, to Mliicli lie is go- 
 
 to him, by the witness of bis Spirit, ami the glory of h 
 
 ing, are what strengthen the Clirisiian's heart against all oppositions. 
 
 t A sight of Christ by faith, begets longing of sonl to see him in glon'. A sei 
 of liis piirdoning love makes us long to be with him ; a desire of being perfec 
 treed from the very being of sin, ever accompanies a tnie and livelj faith in hi 
 Jind manifests that we profess a most holy faith. Juilc 20 
 
 (n) Isa. xjv. S. Rev. xxi. 1 
 
 sense 
 i-fecti)- 
 
€HA'RITY INQUIRES CONCERNING HIS FAMILY. 107 
 
 Chr. I have a wife and four small children. 
 
 Char. And why did you not bring them along with 
 you ? 
 
 Then Christian wept, and said, Oh ! how willingly 
 would I have done it ! but tliey were all of them utterly 
 averse to my going on pilgrimage.* 
 
 Char. But you should have talked to them, and have 
 endeavoured to have shown them the danger of being 
 left behind. 
 
 Chr. So I did ; and told them also what God had 
 showed to me of the destruction of our city ; but I 
 seemed to them as one that mocked, and they believed 
 me not.(«) 
 
 Char. And did you pray to God that he would bless 
 your counsel to them ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, and that with much affection ; for you 
 must think that my wife and poor children were very 
 dear unto me. 
 
 Char. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and 
 fear of destruction ? for I suppose that destruction was 
 visible enough to you. 
 
 Chr. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might 
 also see my fears in my countenance, in my tears, and 
 also in my trembling under the apprehension of the judg- 
 ments that did hang over our heads ; but all was not suf- 
 ficient to prevail with them to come with me. 
 
 Char. But what could they say for themselves why 
 they came not ? 
 
 Chr. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world ; 
 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. 
 
 • So the spirit of a pilgrim manifests itself in love to those of his own house, by 
 earnestly M'ishing, striving, and praying, if by any means he can pt >"vail on theiri 
 :;9 flee from destruction, and come to Jesus for sanation. 
 
 (o) Gen, ^s. *. 
 
108 CHRISTIAN SHOWS WHY HE CAME ALONE. 
 
 Char. But did you not with your vain life damp all 
 that you by words used by way of persuasion to bring 
 them away with } ou ?* 
 
 Chr. Indeed I cannot commend my life ; for I am 
 conscious to myself of many fliilings therein : I know 
 also, that a man by his conversation may soon overthrow 
 what by argument or persuasion he doth labour to fasten 
 upon others for their good. Yet this I can say, I was 
 very wary of giving them occasion, by any unseemly ac- 
 tion, to make them averse to going on pilgrimage. Yea, 
 for tliis very thing, they would tell me I was too precise ; 
 and that I denied myself of things, for their sakes, in 
 ^\hich they saw no evil. Nay, 1 think, I may say, that 
 if uhat they saw in mc did hinder them, it was my great 
 tenderness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong 
 to my neighbour. 
 
 Char. Indeed Cain hated his brother, " because his 
 o\vn works were evil, and his brother's righteous ;"(«) 
 and if thy wife and children have been ofiended with 
 thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be im- 
 placable to good ; and thou hast delivered thy soul from 
 their blood. t(6) 
 
 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. J Now the tabic 
 
 * O soul, consider this deeply : it is the life of a Christian that carries more 
 conviction and persuasion than his words. Though like an angel, you talk of 
 Christ, of the (50spel, of the doctrines of grace, and of hearen, yet if you in- 
 dulge evil tempers, and live under the power of any sinful lusts an<l passions, you 
 •will hereby harden others against the things of God, and prevent their setting out 
 in the ways of (iod, and are in danger of finally perishing. Study and pray to be 
 a constant walker in the ways of holiness, else all is but windy profession, and 
 air)' talk. O how much harm is done to Christ's cause by the unholy walk of roanjr 
 professors ! 
 
 f Hence see the necessity of a Christian's giving good evidence, that he i« really 
 possessed of those graces of piety, prudence, and charity or love, before he can 
 enjoy the communion of 8.iints. 'j'ruc faitli in Jesus is never alouc, but it always 
 attended with a train of 6hristian graces. 
 
 i This means the Lord's s<(p[>er: M-here Christians in common feed oa 
 /csus by faith, and dwell in contemplation, willi wonder, love, aud praise, for 
 
 (a) John iii. 12 (f>) Ezck. iii. J9. 
 
DISCOURSE ABOUT THE LORD OF THE HILL. 109 
 
 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 diey said, I per- 
 ceived that he had been a great warrior, and had fought 
 with and slain him that had the power of death, (a) 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 blood. But that which put 
 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 af- 
 firmed, and that was, he had stripped himself of his 
 glory that he might do this for the poor ; and that the}- 
 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 the} 
 were beggars born, and their original had been the dung- 
 
 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 open- 
 ed towards the sun-rising : the name of the chamber was 
 Peace, where he slept till break of day, and then he 
 awoke and sang — 
 
 what Jesus had done for them, is in them, and is now doing for them at the right 
 Land of God. Thus Christians fefcd on Ijim by faith, and are nourished up by hire 
 Unto eternal life. 
 
 {a) Heb. il. 14, 15. (A) 1 Sam. ii. 8. Psal. cxiiL 7. 
 
110 THE CHAMBER OF PEACE, AND THE STUDY 
 
 ** Where am I now ! Is this the love and care 
 Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are; 
 Tlius 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 sho^ved 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 re- 
 member my dream, they showed him, first, the pedigree 
 of the Lord of the hill, that he ^vas the Son of the An- 
 cient of days, and came by that eternal generation : here 
 also were more fully recorded tlie 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 habita- 
 tions that could neither by length of days, nor decay of 
 nature, be dissolved. 
 
 Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that 
 some of his servants IiikI done : as how they had " sub- 
 dued kingdoms, ^vrought righteousness, obtained pro- 
 mises, stopped the m.ouths of lions, quenched the vio- 
 lence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of 
 weakness were made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and 
 turned to fiight the armies of the aliens."(a) 
 
 Then they read again in another part of the records 
 of the house, where it was showed how willing the 
 Lord was to receive into his favour any, even an}-, 
 though they in time past had offered great affronts to 
 his person and proceedings. Here also were several 
 
 • A sinner cannot slecj) safely anil comfortably till he has found peace with Go<f. 
 But " being justified by faith, we have \»eace with God [and peace in our con- 
 sciences] tlii-ough our ijoi-d.lesus Christ." Rom. v. I. But all unbelievers of the 
 grace ol our Lord Jesus Christ are under the curse of the law, and condemnation 
 for sin, and are at enmity against God. 
 
 t Christ, and meditation on Christ, on his birth, his person, his life, his works, 
 ))is death, his atonement, righteousness, and salvation, are the delight of Christian 
 souls. Savs David, " My meditation of him shall be sweet : I will be glail in 
 the Lord, Psal. civ. 3-i. A lively Christian cannot live vithout spiritual medi- 
 tation. 
 
 (a) Hcb. xi. 35, 34. 
 
THE ARMOURY, AND ITS CURIOSITIES. Ill 
 
 ofher 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 
 armoury,* where they showed him all manner of fur- 
 niture 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 multi- 
 tude. 
 
 They also showed him some of the engines, with 
 which some of his servants had done wonderful things. 
 They showed him Moses's rod ; the hammer and nail 
 with which Jael slew Sisera ; the pitchers, trumpets, 
 and lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the ar- 
 mies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox-goad, 
 wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They show- 
 ed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such 
 mighty feats : they showed him moreover the sling and 
 stone with which David slew Goliah of Oath ; 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 show- 
 ed him besides many excellent things with which Chris- 
 tian was much delighted.f — This done, they went to 
 their rest again. 
 
 * The provision which is made in Christ, and his fuhiess for maintaining anil 
 increasing in the hearts of his people, those holy dispositions and afFectiens, by the 
 yigorous exercise of which, victory is obtained over all their enemies, is here rep- 
 resented by the armoury. This suffices for all wno may seek to be supplied from 
 it, how many soever they be. We ought, therefore, to " take to ourselves the 
 •whole armour of God," and " put it on" by diligently using all the means of grace, 
 and we should assist others, by our exhortations, counsels, examples, and prayers, 
 in doing the same. 
 
 f Contemplations on the things of old, recorded in the word of God) is the joV 
 and glorj- of faith, animates hopf", snd eaiTscfh Ihe snn! to pres? fornard in the 
 Chrrsfian rase. 
 
112 CHRISTIAN SEES THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he 
 got up to go forwards, but they de^.ired him to stay till 
 the next day also ; and then, said they, we will, if the 
 day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountahis ;* 
 which, they said, would yet further add to his comfort, 
 because they were nearer the desired haven than the 
 place where at present he was ; so he consented and 
 staid. When the morning was up, they had him to the 
 top of the house, and bid him look south : so he did ; 
 and behold, at a great distance, (a) he saw a most pleas- 
 ant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vine- 
 yards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and 
 fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked 
 the name of the country. They said, It was Emmanu- 
 el's Land ; and it is as common, say they, as this hill is, 
 to and for all the pilgrims. And when diou comest 
 there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the 
 Celestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make 
 appear. 
 
 • The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent tlioic distinefc 
 views or the privileges and consolations attainable in this life, with which believers 
 are sometimes favoured, when attending on divine ordinances ; or diligently 
 making a subsequent improvement of tkein, by means whereof, they are animated 
 to " press forward toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in 
 Christ Jesus." 
 
 Circat is the Ix)rd our God, 
 AbiI let his praise be great ; 
 He makes his churches his abode. 
 His most delightful seat. 
 
 These temples of his grace, 
 How beautiful they stand ! 
 The honours of our native place> 
 And bulwarks of our land. 
 
 (rt) Isa. xxxiii. 16, IT 
 
CHRISTIAN ARMED. ll.*? 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ENTERS THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION, WHERE 
 HE IS FIERCELY ATTACKED BY APOLLYON, BUT OVERCOMES 
 HIM. 
 
 Now Christian bethought himself of setting forward, 
 and they were willing he should. But first, said they, 
 let us go again into the armoury. 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 ac- 
 coutred,* 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. 
 
 Chr. Pray did you know him ? 
 
 Port. I asked his name, and he told me it was 
 Faidiful. 
 
 O, said Christian, I know him : he is my towns- 
 man, my near neighbour, he comes from the place 
 where I was born : how far do you think he may be 
 before ? 
 
 Port. He is got by this time below the hill. 
 
 Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be witli 
 thee, and add to all thy blessings much increase, for the 
 kindness that thou hast showed to me. 
 
 Then he began to go forward ; but Discretion, Piety, 
 Charity, and Pmdence, would accompany him down to 
 the foot of the hill. So they went on together, reiterat- 
 ing their former discourses, till they came to go down 
 the hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficidt com- 
 ing up, so, so far as I can see, it is danga'ous going 
 down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is ; for it is an hard 
 
 * See whatChrs Chrhfian armour is in Ephp^, vi 18. Scoj 
 
 ?5 
 
-i 
 
 1 14 TIIE VALLEY OP HUMILIATION. 
 
 matter for a man to go down into the valley of Humilia- 
 tion as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way ; 
 therefore, said they, are we come out to accompany thee 
 down the hill. So he began to go down, but very warily, 
 yet he caught a slip or two.* 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, 
 when Christian was gone down to the bottom of the hill, 
 gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster 
 of raisins ; and then he went on his way. 
 
 But now, in this valley of Humiliation, poor Chris- 
 tian was hard put to it ; for he had gone but a little \\a}', 
 before he spied a foul fiend coming over the field to 
 meet him : his name is Apollyon.f Then did Chris- 
 tian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether 
 to go back or stand his ground. But he considered 
 again that he had no armour for his back, and there- 
 fore thought that to turn the back to him miglit give 
 him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him \\ ith 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 \vay to 
 stand. 
 
 So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the 
 monster was hideous to behold : he was clothed \vith 
 scales like a fish (and they are his pride ;) he had wings 
 like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly 
 Game fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth 
 of a lion. When he ^vas come up to Christian, he be- 
 
 • Tlius it 13 after a pilgrim has been favoured with many special and peculiar 
 Jjlessings, there is dani^er of liis being puffed up and exalted on account of them: 
 so did even holy Paul express it ; therefore the messenger of Satan was pennilled 
 to buflVt him, 2 Cor. xii. ". In our present mi\ed state, the Lord knows, it 
 would not be best for us always to dwell on the mount of spiritual joy ; therefore, 
 for the good of the soul, the flesh must he humbled, and kopt low, It'St spiritual 
 pride prevail. ]t is hard going down into the Valley of Iluniilialinn, uilhout slip- 
 ping into murmuring and discoutent, and calling in question tlie dealings of fio'i 
 with us. 
 
 t Apollyon signifies tfa destroyer ; (see Rev. ix. 11.) 
 
APOLLYON INTERROGATES CHRISTIAN. 115 
 
 held him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began 
 to question with him.* 
 
 Apol. Whence came you ? and whither are you 
 bound ? 
 
 Chr. I am come from the city of Destruction, 
 which is the place of all evil, and am going to the city 
 of Zion. 
 
 Apol. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects ; 
 for all that country is mine, and I am the prince and god 
 of it. How is it then that thou hast run away from thy 
 king ? Were it not for that I hope thou mayest do me 
 more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the 
 ground. 
 
 Chr. I was born indeed in your dominions, but your 
 service was hard, and your wages was such as a man 
 could not live on ; " for tlie wages of sin is death ;"(a) 
 therefore when I was come to years I did, as other con- 
 siderate persons do, look out if perhaps I might mend 
 my self, t 
 
 Apol. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose 
 his subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee ; but since 
 thou complainest of thy service and wages, be content to 
 go back ; what our country v>^ill afford, I do here promise 
 to give thee. 
 
 • Do not be terrified though you meet Satan, and he assaults you in the most 
 terrible form ; but mind this, before Satan is suffered to attack Christian, his Lord 
 had provided and fitted him with armour ; the armour of God, wherewith he 
 could stand his s;round, conquer Satan, and repel all his fiery darts. In every con- 
 flict with Satan, the battle is the Lord's : his strength is engaged for our victory ; 
 therefore fight the good fight of faith. 
 
 t All Uiis is the effect of believing God's word» and the conviction which it brings 
 to the mind, of the evil of sin, of the deplorable state the sinner finds himself in, 
 and of the grace and salvation of the Son of God. As soon as a man believes these 
 truths, he quits the service of the father of lies ; and by the faith of the truth, he 
 is armed to resist SiUan ; for it is the glory of faith to draw all its reasonings from 
 divine truth. 
 
 (a) Rom. vi. 23 
 
116 APOLLYON TEMPTS HIM TO GO BACK. 
 
 Chr. But I have let myself to another, even to the 
 king of princes ; and how can I with fairness go back 
 with thee ? 
 
 ApoL. Thou hast done in this according to the pro- 
 verb, " Change a bad for a worse :^^ but it is ordinary 
 for those that have professed themselves his servants, af- 
 ter a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. 
 Do thou so too, and all shall be well.* 
 
 Chr. I have given him my faith, and sworn my alle- 
 giance to him : how then can I go back from this, and 
 not be hanged as a traitor ? 
 
 Apol. Thou didst the same to me, and yet I am 
 wiUing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet turn again 
 and go back. 
 
 Chr. What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and 
 besides, I count that the prince under whose banner I 
 now stand, is able to absolve me ; yea, and to pardon 
 also what 1 did as to my compliance with thee : and, be- 
 sides, O thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like 
 his service, his wages, his servants, his government, his 
 company, and country, better than thine ; and tlierefore 
 leave off to persuade me further ; I am his servant, and I 
 will follow him. 
 
 Apol. Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, 
 what thou art like to meet with in the way that thou go- 
 est. Thou knowest that, for the most part, his servants 
 come to an ill end, because thev are transgressors against 
 me and my ways. How many of them have been 
 put to shameful deaths ? — And besides, thou count- 
 est his service better than mine, whereas he never 
 cajne yet from the place where he is to deliver any that 
 
 * Here the father of lies delivers a most awful truth; but like himself backs it 
 ■with a lying promise. Most dreatiful to think of, to set out in the pi-ofessioii of 
 Jesus, and again to turn back to the service of Satan ! yet how common is this! 
 Such reject Christ's truth ; and believe the devil's lie, •• that all shall be wcfU" 
 But, their end is ill, and their death damnation. 
 
CHRISTIAN REFUTES HIS SUGGESTIONS. 117 
 
 served him out of their hands : but, as for me, how ma- 
 ny times, as all the world very well knows, have I deliv- 
 ered, either by power or fraud, those that have faithfully 
 served me, from him and his, though taken by them : 
 and so I will deliver thee.* 
 
 Chr. His forbearing at present to deliver them is on 
 purpose to try their love, whether they will cleave to 
 him to the end : and, as for the ill end thou sayest the}' 
 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, f 
 
 ApoL. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy ser- 
 vice to him ; and how dost thou hope to receive wages 
 of him ? 
 
 Chr. Wherein, O Apollyon, have I been unfaithful 
 to him ? 
 
 Apol. 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 shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had 
 taken it off : thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice 
 things : thou wast also almost persuaded to go back 
 at the sight of the lions : and when thou talkest of thy 
 journey, and of what thou hast heard and seen, thou art 
 inwardly desirous of vain-glory in all that thou sayest or 
 doest.J 
 
 • Mark the many subtle ways, and artful reasonings of Satan, to prevent pil- 
 grims from persevering in the ways of the Lord. Hapi)y for us not to be ignorant 
 of Satan's devices. 
 
 ■)- Here is the precious reasoning of faith. Well might Paul say, " Above all 
 (or over all) taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all 
 the fiery darts of the wicked one." Eph. vi. 16. 
 
 i Satan is justly styled the accuser of the brethren of Christ, Rev. x. 12 ; for 
 he accuseth them before God, and to their own consciences. " But they overcome 
 him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony." Rev. xii. 11. 
 namely. " that they have redemption hi tTie blood of Christ, even the forgiveness 
 «f their Sins." Eph. i. 7. 
 
118 APOLLYON WOUNDS CIIRISTIAX. 
 
 Chr. All this is true, and much more whicli thou 
 hast left out ; but the Prince, ^\ horn I serve and ho- 
 nour, 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, 
 being sorry for them, and have obtained pardon of my 
 Prince.* 
 
 Then Apollyon broke out into a grievous rage, say- 
 ing, I am an enemy to this Prince ; I hate his person, 
 his laws, and people : I am come out on purpose to 
 Avitlistand thee. 
 
 Chr. Apollyon, beware what you do; for I am in 
 the king's highway, the way of hoUness ; therefore take 
 heed to yourself. 
 
 Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole 
 breadth of the way, and said, I am void of fear in this 
 matter ; prepare thyself to die ; for 1 swear b}' my in- 
 fernal den that thou shalt go no further : here will I spill 
 thy soul. 
 
 And ^vith 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 tliat.f 
 
 Then did Christian draw ; for he saw it ^vas 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,J Apollyon 
 wounded him in his head, his hand and foot. This 
 made Christian gi\'e a little back : Apollyon, therefore. 
 
 * That is the best wny (o own Satan's charges if they be true, yea, to exa^e* 
 rate them also, to exalt the riches of tlie grace of Clirist, above all, in pardon, 
 ing all of (hem freely. By thus humbling ourselves, and e*ialung Christ, Satun 
 can get no advantage over us, though this will put him into a rage against us. 
 
 ■j" The shield of faith : the belief of what Christ iiad done for him, an<l in liira, 
 and wliat he was in Christ, justified and sanctitied. This glorious confession oif 
 faith honours Christ, repels and quenches all the ficiy darts of Satan, and gfets the 
 victory over him. This is what Peter e.xhorts to : " Uesist the devU, steadfast in 
 the faith." 1 I'et. v. 9. 
 
 i- Ciuistian wounded in his understanding, faith, and conversation. 
 
THEIR DREADFUL COMBAT. 115 
 
 followed his work amain, and Christian again took cour- 
 age, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore 
 cornbat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian 
 was almost quite spent ; for you must know, that Chris- 
 tian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker 
 and weaker.-'^ 
 
 Then Apollyon, spying 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,t while Apollyon was fetch- 
 ing his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good 
 man. Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his 
 sword, and caught it, saying, " Rejoice not against me, 
 O mine enemy ! when I fall, I shall arise ;"(c) and with 
 that gave him a dreadful thrust, which made him give 
 back as one that had received his mortal wound. Chris- 
 tian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, " Nay, 
 • in all these things we are more than conquerors, through 
 him that loved us ;"(6) and with that Apollyon spread 
 forth his dragon wings and sped him away, that Christian 
 saw him no more. 
 
 In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had 
 seen and heard, as I did, what yelling and hideous roar- 
 ing 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 
 
 • We may think this is hard Mork, why should a Christian be so severely at- 
 tacked by Satan ' The Lord does not give us an armour to be useless, but to fight 
 with, and prove its excellency, and in the use of it to experience his almighty pow- 
 er and unchangeable love : for though we are weak, he is almighty to strengthen 
 us, therefore we are called upon to be " strong in the Lord, and in the power ol 
 his might." Eph. vi. 10. *»«•«■. 
 
 t Observe, that the Lord does not look on as a mere spectator ot our conflicts, 
 but he strengthens us in every etil day, and in every fight ot faith, and brings u^ 
 oft' at last more than conquerors through his love. 
 
 Ca) Mic. Tii. 8. (*) Horn. vii!. ?r— ^9. Jam. iv. 7. 
 
120 CHRISTIAN'S "VICTORY AND THANKSGIVINt'. 
 
 while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived 
 he had wounded ApoUyon with his two-edged sword ; 
 then indeed he did smile and look upward !* But it was 
 die dreadfuUest fight 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 Apol- 
 lyon. And so he did ; saying, 
 
 " Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend, 
 Desi^o'd my ruiD ; 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 'lid quickly make him fly : 
 Therefore to him let me give lasting praise 
 And thanks, and bless his holy name always." 
 
 Then there came to him an hand with some of the 
 leaves of the tree of life, the which Christian took and 
 applied to the wounds that he had received in the battle, 
 and was healed immediately f He also sat domi in that 
 place to eat bread, and to drink of that bottle that was 
 given him a little before : so being refreshed, he address- 
 ed 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 the valley. 
 
 Now at the end of this valley was another, call- 
 ed the valley of the shadow of Death ; ^ and Chris- 
 
 * Not a vain-glorious, but an humble, thankful smile. He looked up and srai< 
 
 linply S"^'*^- the Lord all the glory of his victory. 
 
 j- No matter wliat wounds we get in our conflicts with Satan, for .Tesus will heal 
 them all. But who will heal those which we get by complying with the devil, in- 
 stead of resisting him ? 
 
 i Conflicts w ilii Satan make Christians wary, and value their sword, so as (9 
 valk with the sword of the spirit, the word of no<I, in their hands As faith in 
 that wonJ prevails, the power of temj)tation declines and the Christian becomes 
 victorious ; yea, more than a coii(|ueror, through tiie bloo<l of Jesus. 
 
 § " Many are the afllictions of the righteous ;" so Christian foun<l it. He came 
 ofl" con<|ueror in the Valley of Humiliation ; his wounds were healed by the tree of 
 life, and his soul rejoiced in God his Saviour. But new trials awaited liim ; he ex 
 
DESCRIPTION OF THE VALLEY OF DEATH. 121 
 
 tian 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 
 of pits ; a land of drought, and of the shadow of death ; 
 a land that no man," but a Christian, " passeth thi'ough, 
 and where no man dwelt, "(c) 
 
 Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight 
 with Apollyon ; as by the sequel you shall see. 
 
 pected them. He heard a dismal account of the valley before him ; but as his way 
 lay through it, no persuasions would stop his progress. 
 
 The Valley of the Shadow of Death seems intended to represent a variation of 
 inward distress, conflict and alarm, which arise from unbelief, and a supposition 
 that God has withdrawn the light of his countenance, and is accompanied by mani- 
 fold apprehensions and temptations. Most Christians know something of this ; but 
 perhaps very few are acquainted with that great degree of horror and fear whicli 
 are here represented. The words quoted from the prophet, describe the waste 
 howling wilderness through which Israel journeyed to Canaan ; which typified the 
 believer's pilgrimage through this world to heaven. Low spirited persons, of a 
 gloomy turn, or under the power of some nervous disorder, are more usually ex- 
 ercised in this manner than others : for the subtle enemy knows how to take ad- 
 vantage of our weakness, and to impress (if possible) distressing ideas on the 
 mind, when it is most disposed to receive them. At such limes tlie imagination is 
 crowded with terrible ideas, every thing looks black and big with danger, reason 
 itself is disturbed in its e.\ercises, and no real relief can be gained till the great 
 Physician be pleased to restore health, both to body and soul. 
 
 In addition to the foregoing, let it be observed, that we must not suppose our 
 author intended to convey an idea, that all experience these trials in the same order 
 and degree as Christian did. Evil spirits never fail, when not resisted by faith, to 
 mislead, entangle, or perplex the soul, — and many, not knowing fully S'alan's de- 
 vices, are apt, in the trying hour, to ascribe such a state wholly to desertion, 
 which exceedingly enhances their distress : and as Bunyan had been greatly harass! 
 ed in this way, he has given us a larger proportion of 'this shade than is met with 
 by consistent believers, or than the scriptures by any means give us reason to e.\- 
 pect : and probably he meant hereby to state the outlines of iiis own experience in 
 the pilgrimage of Christian : all due honour must be given to the words of Christ : 
 who has declared, " he that follovveth me (Christ) shall not walk in darkness.'" 
 Let us be found in a constant exercise of faith in the great and precious promises. 
 then shall we rejoice evermore, and in every thing give tlianks. 
 
 (a) Jer. ii, 6. 
 
 16 
 
122 CHRISTUN MEETS TWO MEN GOING BACK 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 CHRISTIAN SORELY DISTRESSED IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHA- 
 DOW OF DEATH, THROUGH WHICH, HOAVEVER, HE PASSES 
 UNHURT. 
 
 I SAW then in my dream, that when Christian was got 
 on the borders of the Shadow of Death, there met him 
 two men, children of them that brought up an evil re- 
 port of the good land,(o) making haste to go back ;* to 
 whom Christian spake as follow s : 
 
 W^hither are you going ? 
 
 They siiid, Back ! back ! and we would have you to 
 do so too, if either life or peace is prized by you. 
 
 Why, what's the matter ? said Christian. 
 
 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 new s to 
 thee. 
 
 But what have you met with ? said Christian. 
 
 Men. Why, we were almost in the valley of the 
 Shadow of Death ;{b) but that by good hap we looked 
 before us, and saw the danger before we came to it. 
 
 But what have you seen "? said Christian. 
 
 Men. Seen ? Why the valley itself, which is as 
 dark as pitch: we also saw there the hobgoblins, sa- 
 tyrs, M\d dragons of the pit : we heard also in that val- 
 ley a contiimal howling and yelling, as of people under 
 
 • Siicli we frcqnoDlly meet with ; wlio set out without a sense of sin, true f«itli, 
 real liope, timl sincere love to Clirist ; and i\s sure as tliey g«) t)ack fmnrj a profc; 
 sion, lliey bring uj) an evil report ol" the w ay to the kingdom of Christ. 
 
 (a) Numb. xiji. (6) Psal. xliv. 10. 
 
THEY IN VAIN ATTEMPT TO DISCOURAGE HIM. 123 
 
 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 v ings 
 over it.(c) In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being 
 utterly without order. 
 
 Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by Avhat you 
 have said, but th?t this is my way to the desired haven. 
 
 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 hath led die blind in all ages, 
 and have both there miserably perished. f 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 this quag king David once did fall, 
 and had, no doubt, therein been smothered, had not he 
 that is able plucked him out.(^) 
 
 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 in- 
 
 * See what it is, when men are left to will and choose for themselvps, they 
 prefer their own ways, though it be to destruction : their wills are averse to God's, 
 and they choose death in the error of their life ; but the faithful soul is under the 
 reign of grace, and he chooses to obey the will of God, and to walk in the ways of 
 God, though they are not pleasing to flesh and blood : hence true faith is tried, and 
 a mere empty profession made manifest. 
 
 f The ditch on th*- right hand is error in principle, into which the blind (as to 
 spiritual truths, blind guides) lead the blind, who are not spiritually enlightened- 
 The quag on the left hand means outward sins and wickerlness. which many fall 
 into. Both are alike dangerous to pilgrims ; but the Lord v/ill keep tlie feet of his 
 saints. 1 Sara, ii- 9. 
 
 (a) Job iii. 5. X..22. (6) Psah Ixix. 14. 
 
1 24 IHE V ALLEY OP THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 
 
 to the ditch.* Thus he went on, and I heard him here 
 sigh bitterl}- : for besides the danger mentioned above, 
 the pathway was here so dark, that oft-times when he 
 lifted up his foot to go forward, he knew not a\ here, nor 
 upon what he slwuld set it next. 
 
 About the midst of the valley, I perceived the mouth 
 of hell to be, and it stood also hard by the way-side : 
 Now, thought Christian, what shall I do "? And ever 
 and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such 
 abundance, with sparks and hideous noises, (things that 
 cared not for Christian's sword, as did ApoUyon be- 
 fore,) that he was forced to put up his sword, and betake 
 liimself to another weapon, called all-prayer : so he cri- 
 ed, in m}- hearing, " O Lord, I beseech thee deliver my 
 soul."(«) Thus he went on a great while, yet still the 
 flames Avould be reaching to\vards him : also he heard 
 doleful voices, and rushing to and fro, so that some- 
 times he thought he should be torn to 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 compan}' of fiendsf com- 
 ing forward to meet him, he stopt, and began to muse 
 what he had best to do : sometimes he had half a 
 thought to go back ; then again he thought he might be 
 lialf \vay through the valley : he remembered also how- 
 he had ah'cady vanquished many a danger ; and that 
 
 • A tender conscience is as nincli Hrniicl of corrupt principles, as of sinful 
 ]iractices. This ninnifcsts the sincerity of the soul, even when a Christian is as- 
 aaiilted by the most violent am) complicated temptations. 
 
 f Mut it may be asked, Why doth the Lord suffer his cliildren to be so afflicted ? 
 ft is for his p;loi-y ; it tries their failli in him, and excites prayer to liim ; but his 
 love abates not in the least towards them, since he lovingly inquires after them : 
 " Who is there auionj; you tliat fearetli the Lonl, and waiketh in darkness, and 
 lialii no light ?" Then he gives most precious advice to Uicni. " Let Jiim trust i" 
 llie Lo.rd, and stay himself upon his God." Isa. 1. 10. 
 
 (fi) Psal. cxvi. 4. Epiies. vi. IR. 
 
CHRISTIAN'S TERROR AND PERPLEXITY. 125 
 
 the danger of going back might be much more than for 
 to go forward. So he resoh^ed 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 vehe- 
 ment voice, " I will walk in the strength of the Lord 
 God ;" so they gave back, and came no further. 
 
 One thing I w'ould not let slip : 1 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 burn- 
 ing pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and 
 stept up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested ma- 
 ny 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 uhcnce those blasphemies 
 came.* 
 
 When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate con- 
 dition 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 ill, for thou art with me.t(a) 
 
 Then was he glad, and that for these reasons : first, 
 because he gathered from thence, that some who fear- 
 ed God were in this valley as well as himself: — se- 
 condly, 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 impedi^ 
 
 • Now here the conscience manifests its tenderness, by abhorring the evil of 
 Satan's suggestions. O what nigh access lias the enemy to our hearts ! Bnt the 
 Lord is also nigh, to save to the uttermost all who trust in him : he will hear their 
 cry, and save them. Psal. civ. 19. 
 
 t The experience of other saints is veiy encouraging, for the soul finds that 
 ethers have gone before ia dreadful and dreary paths. 
 
 (rt) Psal. xxiii. 4- 
 
126 HE I§ CHEERED BY THE RREAKIXG OF DAY. 
 
 incnt that attends this place I cannot perceive it(fl) — 
 thirdly, for th:\t he hoped (could he overtake them) 
 to have compuny by and by. — So he went on, and call- 
 ed to hitn that was before ; but he knew not what to 
 answer ; for tliat he also thous^ht himself to be alone. 
 And b}' and by the day broke : then said Christian, 
 He h:\th " turned the shadow of death into the morn- 
 ing."*(<^) 
 
 Now morning being come he looked back, not out 
 of desire to return, but to see by the light of the day 
 Avhat hazards he had gone through in the dark : so he. 
 saw more pcrfectl}- 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 the 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 to light the shadow of 
 death."(c) 
 
 Now was Christian much affected with his deliver- 
 ance from all the dangers of his solitary \\'ay ; which 
 dangers though he feared them more beiore, yet he 
 saw them more clearly now', because the light of the 
 day made them conspicuous to him. And about this 
 time the sim 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 danger- 
 ous ; yet this second part, which he was yet to go, 
 was, if possible, far more dangerous ri" lor, from the 
 place ^vhere he now stood, even to the end of the val- 
 
 • To walk in <Iuiknoss, and not to be distressed for it, argues stupidity of soul. 
 To liavr- til"- light nf (iod's countenance shine upon us, and not to rejoice and be 
 thankful, is impossible. 
 
 f 'rhis nicuiis the raging of pci-secution for the tnith's sake, and those dreadful 
 deaths which the martyrs suftered in the cause of Christ and his glorious gospel 
 and precious salvation. But here Christian had the blessed lisht of the glorioua 
 gospel. 
 
 (n) Job iv. 11 (f>) Amos v. 8. (c) Job xii. '-'2. 
 
CHRISTIAN SEES THE DANGERS HE HAD ESCAPED. 127 
 
 ley, 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 been dark, 
 as it was when he came the first part of the wa)-, had he 
 had a diousand 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."(a) 
 
 In this light therefore he came to the end of the val- 
 ley. Now I saw in my dream, that at the end of this 
 valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and mangled bodies of 
 men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly : 
 and while I was musing what should be the reason, I 
 spied a little before me a cave, where two giants. Pope 
 and Pagan,* dwelt in old time ; by whose power and 
 tyranny the men, whose bones, blood, ashes, &c. lay 
 there, were cruelly put to death. But by this place 
 Christian went without much danger, whereat I some- 
 what wondered ; but I have learnt since, that Pagan has 
 been dead many a day ; and, as for the other, though 
 he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the 
 many shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger 
 days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints, that he now 
 can do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning 
 at pilgrims as they go bj^, and biting his nails because 
 he cannot come at them. 
 
 So I saw that Christian went on his way : yet, at the 
 sight of the old man that sat in the mouth of the cave. 
 
 * The inhabitants of this kingdom are not thought to be in any rmmediate dan- 
 ger, either from Pope or Pagan. Yet something like ihe philosophical part of 
 paganism seems to be rising from the dead, wliile poptry grows more infirm thau 
 ever : and as, even by the confession of the late King of Prussia, who was a steady 
 friend to the philosophical infidels, " they are by no means favourable to genera! 
 toleration ;" it is not improbable (says the Rev Mr. Scott) but Pagan persecution 
 may also in due time revive. — Our author, however, has described no other per- 
 secution than what Protestants in his time carried on against each other with very 
 great alacrity. 
 
 in). Jot xxix. ."i. 
 
i28 CIIKISTIAVS SbJfG. 
 
 he could not tell what to tiiiiik ; especially because he 
 spake to him, though he could not go after him, say- 
 ing, " You will never mend till more of you be burn- 
 ed." 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 do less) 
 That I should be preserv'd in that distress 
 Tl)at I have met with here ! O blessed be 
 That hand that from it hath deliver'd me ! 
 Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin, 
 Did compass me while I this vale 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." 
 
 • Nothing sliall barm us while we arc foll6wers of that which is good. Tins 
 every faitlifiil soul can testify — for the Lord will tjivc grace and glory, and no good 
 thing will he withliold from those who walk njirightlv Such are the inestimable 
 blessings consequent on steadfastly fighting the gixnl fight of faith. — The real Chrb- 
 liaii, amidst all his temptations, shall liold on his way, while his whole soul sings — 
 " Let Jesus wear the crown." 
 
 Then let my soul arise, 
 
 And tread the tempter down : 
 
 My captain leads ine forth 
 
 To conquest and a crown. 
 A feeble saint shall win the day, 
 Tho' death and hell obstruct the way. 
 
 Watt's. 
 
CHRISTIAN OVERTAKES FAITHFUL, 129 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 tiJHRISTIAN MEETS WITH AN EXCELLENT COMPANION IN 
 FAITHFUL, WITH WHOM HE HAS MUCH PROFITABLE CON- 
 VERSATION. 
 
 ^ ow 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, 
 *' Stay, stay, till I come to you ;" but Faithful answer- 
 ed, " No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood 
 is behind me."f 
 
 At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting 
 to all his strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, and 
 did also over- run him ; so the last was first. Then did 
 Christian vain-gloriously smile, because he had gotten 
 the start of his brothtr : 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. J 
 
 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 : 
 
 My honoured and well-beloved brother Faithful, I 
 am glad that I have overtaken you ; and that God has 
 
 * The Lord cares for his people : he has cast up, by means of his word and 
 promises, many a little hill of prospect and comfort in llieir way, that they may 
 look forward with pleasure and delight. 
 
 f It is good to beware and be jealmis of what company wc fall into. Many have 
 joined hurtful professors instead of profitable pilgrims. 
 
 ^ How soon (ioth spiritual jiride shew its cursed head, in thinking we have out- 
 Stripped another ! Then danger is near, a fall is at hand, if we humble not our- 
 selves before the Lord. The very person's hand we need to help us, whom we 
 h.!id frequently undervalne^. 
 
 17 
 
130 TIIEY CONVERSE AnoUT THEIR CITY. 
 
 SO tempered our spirits that wc can walk as companions 
 in this so pleasant a patli.* 
 
 Faith. I had thought, dear friend, to have had your 
 company quite from our town, but you did get the start 
 of me ; wherefore I was forced to come thus much of 
 the way alone. 
 
 Chr How long did you stay in the city of Destruc- 
 tion, before you set out after me on your pilgrimage ? 
 
 Faith. Till I could stay no longer;! for there was 
 great talk presently after you w ere gone out, that our city 
 would, in a short time, \vith fire from heaven be burned 
 down to the ground. 
 
 Chr. What ! and did your neighbours talk so ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, it was for a while in every body's 
 mouth. 
 
 Chr. What ! and did no more of them but you come 
 out to escape the danger ? 
 
 Faith. Though there was, as I said, a great talk 
 thereabout, yet I do not think they did frrmly believe 
 it. For, in the heat of the discourse, I heard some of 
 them deridingly speak of you and your desperate jour- 
 ney ; for so they called this your pilgrimage. But 1 did 
 believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with 
 fire and brimstone from above ; and therefore I have 
 made my escape. 
 
 Chr. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, Christian, 1 heard tliat he followed you 
 till lie came to the slough of Despond : w here, as some 
 said, he fell in ; but he would not be known to have so 
 done ; but I am sure he v.as soundly bedaubed with that 
 kind of dirt. 
 
 Chr. And what said the neighbours to him ? 
 
 • This ppi?0(le, so to speak, with otlicrs of thi- same kind, gives our author a 
 luippy iiilvatitasf o' varying tlic chaiaclirs and experitnccs oi Christians, as foumr 
 in rciil lilc ; and of thus avoiding the common fault of making one man a sUmdard 
 for others, in the cirrumstances of his religious progress. 
 
 ■\ This is the case with every j)ilgrini. From the powerful con>-ictions which he 
 has from ahove, of his stale aad danger, he is urged hy necessity lo flee from tUc 
 wrath to come. 
 
CHRISTIAN INQUIRES CONCERNING PLIABLE. 131 
 
 Faith. He hath since his going back been had great- 
 ly 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 >9ut of the city. 
 
 Chr. But why should they be so set against him, since 
 they also despised the way that he forsook ? 
 
 Faith. O, they say, "Hang him; he is a turn- 
 coat ! he was not true to his profession :" I think God 
 has stirred up even his enemies to hiss at him, and 
 make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the 
 ^vay.(c) 
 
 Chr. Had you no talk with him before you came 
 out ? 
 
 Faith. I met him once in the streets, but he leered 
 away on the other side, as one ashamed of ^vhat he had 
 done : so I spake not to him.* 
 
 Chr. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of 
 that man ; but now I fear he will perish in the over- 
 throw of the city : for " it hath happened to him accord- 
 ing to the true proverb. The dog is turned to his vomit 
 again ; and the sow that was washed, to her \\'allowing in 
 the mire."(6) 
 
 Faith. They are my fears of him too : but who can 
 hinder that which will be ? 
 
 Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us 
 leave him, and talk of things that more immediately 
 concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met 
 with in the way as you came : for I know you have 
 met with some things, or else it may be writ for a 
 wonder. 
 
 Faith. I escaped the slough that I perceived you 
 fell into, and got up to the gate Avithout that dan- 
 
 • Apostates from the profession of Christ cannot look bis followers boldly in the 
 face ; some convictions will follow them) till their hearts are hardened, itnd tlieiv 
 consciences seared. 
 
 (a) Jer. xxix. 18, 19. (i) 2 Pet. |r. C?. 
 
132 FAITHFUL RELATES HOW HE MET WITH WANTON ; 
 
 ger ;* only I met xAith one, whose name was Wanton, 
 that had like to liave done me a mischief. 
 
 Chr. It was m ell yon escajxd her net; Joseph was 
 liard put to it by her, and he escaped her as you did ; 
 but it had like to have cost him his hfc.(rt) i3ut what 
 did she say to you ? 
 
 Faith You cannot think, but that you know some- 
 thing^, what a flattering tongue she had ; she luy at me 
 hard to turn aside with her, promising me idl manner of 
 content.f 
 
 Chr. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a 
 good conscience. 
 
 Faith. You know that I mean all carnal and fleshly 
 content. 
 
 Chr. Thank God yoii have escaped her: "the ab- 
 horred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch. "((6) 
 
 Faith. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape 
 her or no. J 
 
 Chr. Why, I trow you did not consent to her de- 
 sires. 
 
 Faith. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered 
 an old \\ riting that I had seen, which said, " her steps 
 take hold on hell. "(c) So I shut mine eyes, because I 
 would not be bewitched with her looks : — then she railed 
 on me, and I went my wa}'. 
 
 Chr. Did you meet with no other assault as you 
 came ? 
 
 Faith. When I came to the foot of the hill called 
 Difficulty, 1 met with a very aged man, \vho asked 
 
 • ThonRli no sinner will flee from the wratli to come to Clirist for salvation, till 
 the Si>ifit iiHS coiiviiicfd of sin, sind (K'srrvfil wrath anil ilcsiniction : jet all do not 
 fall mikIci- till- like despoiulcncy of sonl, at first sclting out. 
 
 ■f l-Mcstily lusts will plead hard, and promise fair Hap|»y those wlio \ortk to the 
 Lord fur power against them, and e}c his precious promises, tiiat we may escape 
 thera. 
 
 t \ jealous conscience is erieved for temptations of the flesh to lust, and can 
 Iiardly <|iiit itself of guilt. This makes the cleansing hlood of Christ exceeding 
 precious, while the soul is suuk into humility and scU'-loatiiing. 
 
 (a) Gen. xi;.\L\. 11 — 13, {l>) Trov. xxii. 14. (c) Prov. t. 5. Job xxxi. L 
 
ANB ALSO WITH ADAM THE FIRST. 133 
 
 lYie what I was, and whither bound ? 1 told him that 
 I was a pilgrim to the Celestial City. Then said the 
 old man, Thou lookest like an honest fello\v ; wilt thou 
 be content to dwell with me, for the wages thi.t I shall 
 give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and \vhcrt he 
 dwelt ? He said, his name was Adam the first,* and 
 that he dwelt in the town of Deceit, (c) I asked him 
 then what was his work ? and what the wages he would 
 give ? He told me, that his work was many delights ; 
 and his wages, that 1 should be his heir at last. I i'ur- 
 ther asked what house he kept, and what other servants 
 he had ? So he told me that his house \vas maintained 
 with all the dainties in 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 Fleshy the Lust of the 
 Eyes, and the Pride of Lfe ;''\b) and that I should 
 marry them if 1 would. Then I asked ho^v^ long time 
 he would have me to live with him ? And he told me, 
 as long as he lived himself. 
 
 Chr. Well, and what conclusion came the old man 
 and you to at last ? 
 
 Faith. Why, at first I found myself somewhat in- 
 clinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake 
 very fair ; but looking in his forehead as I talked with 
 him, I saw there written, " Put off the old man with his 
 deeds."f 
 
 Chr. And how then? 
 
 Faith. Then it came burning hot into my mind, 
 whatever he said, and however he flattered, when he 
 got me home to his house, he would sell me for a slave. 
 So I bid him 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 is original sin, and inward corruption, which has infected our whole 
 nature. 
 
 t Blessed is the man who does not consult with flesh and blood, but looks to an<« 
 Sbeys what is written by the Lord. 
 
 (a) Ephes. iv. 22. (i) 1 Johji ii. 16. 
 
IS-t ESCAPED HIM WITH DIFFICULTY AND PAIX. 
 
 that should make my way bitter to my soul. So I 
 turned to go away from hhn ; but just as I turned my- 
 self to go thence, I felt him take hold of mv flesh, and 
 gave me such a deadly twitch back, that I thought ho 
 had pulled part of me after himself:* this made mc 
 cry, " O wretched man !"(<2) — So I went on my way up 
 the hill. 
 
 Now, when I had got about half way up I looked be- 
 hind me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the 
 Avind ; so he overtook me just about the place where the 
 settle stands. 
 
 Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me ; 
 but being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out 
 of my bosom. 
 
 Faith. But, good brother, hear me out : so soon as 
 the man overtook me, he was but a word and a blow ; 
 for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But 
 when I was a little come to myself again, I asked hini 
 wherefore he served me so ? He said, because of thy 
 secret inclining to Adam the first rf 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 be- 
 fore. When I came to myself again 1 cried him mercy : 
 but he said, I know not how to show mercy : and with 
 that knocked me down again. He had doubtless made 
 an end of me but that one came by and bid him forbear. 
 
 Chr. Who was it that bid him forbear? 
 
 Faith. I did not know him at first, but as he went 
 by I perceived the holes in his hands and in his side : then 
 
 • Thoui^li original sin is hard to be borne, it is good to be sensible of its CTil. 
 ThouHi it" makes us cry, " O wretched !" yet it tends to keep up a sense of our 
 ^vant of Christ, and of the worth «f him. and that nolliing less than being delivered 
 by the blood of Christ, will perfect our salvation. 
 
 + Tliis is afterwards explained to be Moses, or the law of Goih Think not tliat 
 the law reacheth only to outward actions : nay, but it reacheth to the thoughts 
 and intents of the heart. It knocks a man's hopes down and curses hiin to death, 
 even onlv for secretlv inclining to sin. So strict, so si)iritual, so pure, is the holy 
 law of (io<l. Ilincc none but self-righteous, vain-glorious souls can place the least 
 confidence in their obedience to the law and trust ia tlieir own rishlcousncss lor 
 iiistilication. 
 
 (u) Rom. vii. 21." 
 
PASSED THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL: MET DISCONTENT. 135 
 
 I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the 
 hill. 
 
 Chr. The man that overtook you was Moses. He 
 spareth none, neither knoweth he how to show mercy to 
 those that transgress his law. 
 
 Faith. I know it very well; it was not the first 
 time that he has met with me. It Mas he that came to 
 me when I dwelt securely at home, and that told 
 me he would burn my house over my head if I staid 
 there.* 
 
 Chr. But did you not see the house that stood there 
 on the top of the hill on the side of which Moses met 
 you? 
 
 Faith. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it :— 
 but, tor the lions, 1 think they were asleep ; for it 
 was about noon ; — and because I had so much of the 
 day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down 
 the hill. 
 
 Chr. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by ; 
 but I wish you had called at the house, for they would 
 have showed you so many rarities, that you would 
 scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But 
 pray tell me, did you meet nobody in the valley of 
 Humility ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would 
 willingly have persuaded me to go back again w ith him : 
 his reason was, for that the valley was altogether with- 
 out honour. He told me moreover, that there to go 
 was the way to disoblige all my friends, as Pride, Ar- 
 rogancy, 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, t 
 
 * That sinner who never bad a threatening fiery visit from Moses, is yet asleep 
 in his sins, and secure in his soul, though under the curse and wrath of the fiery 
 law of God. 
 
 ■]■ Here observe the different experience of Christians, in regard to the ene- 
 jnies they meet with. We do not read that Christiaa was attacked by Discontent, 
 
136 WAS ASSAULTED BY SHAME: HIS IMPORTtTNTTt. 
 
 Chr. Well, nnd how did you aiiswcr him ? 
 
 Faith. I told him, That although all these that he 
 named might claim kindred of mc, and that rightly, (for 
 indeed they were my relations according to the flesh ;) 
 yet since I became a pilgrim, they have disowned me, 
 as I also have rejected them ; and therefore they are to 
 me now no mcjre 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 
 honour is humility," " and a haughty spirit before a 
 fall." Therefore, said I, 1 had rather go through this 
 valley to the honour that was so accounted by the wisest, 
 than choose that which he esteemed most worthy our 
 affections. 
 
 Chr. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? 
 
 Faith. Yes, I met with Shame ; but, of all the men 
 that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, 1 think, bears the 
 Avrong name. The other w ould .be said nay, after a little 
 argumentation and somewhat else : but tliat bold-faced 
 Shame would never have done. 
 
 Chr. Why, what did he say to j'ou ? 
 
 Faith. What ! why he objected against religion it- 
 self; he said. It was a pitiful, lo\v, sneaking business 
 for a man to mind religion ; he said that a tender con- 
 science was an unmanly thing ; and that for a man to 
 watch o\'er his words and ways, so as to tie up himself 
 from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirit of the 
 times accustomed them^5elves unto, Mould make him 
 the ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but 
 few 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 lo^s of all for nobody knows what. (a) He more- 
 
 as FsUliful was : hut y»t Faitlifiil rcasonefl, and got tlie better of this cncmT: 
 Mmiiv j»il;;riins go on n'lutli more cnntiiueil th:>ii otlirrs. The rfitsoniriR of faitU 
 ivill .'mi 'iMcvail ovi r tliat tliscontciit wliiih springs from pride, arrogaucy, self- 
 couccit, and a thirst for worldly glory, riehis anil pleasure. 
 
 (a) John vii. 48. iCor. i. 20. iii. 18. Phil. iii. 7— 9. 
 
HIS ARGUMENTS ANSWERED BY FAITHFUL. 137 
 
 over 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 tinder a sermon, and a shame to 
 come sighing and groiming home : that it \vas a shame 
 to ask my neighbour 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 are called by finer 
 names ; and made him own and respect the base, be- 
 cause of the same religious fraternity ; and is not this, 
 said he, a shame ?* 
 
 Chr. And what did you say to him ? 
 
 Faith. Say ! why 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 con- 
 sider that " that which is highly esteemed among men 
 is had in abomination with God. "(c) And I tliought 
 again, this Shame tells me what men are ; but it tells 
 me nothing what God, or the word of God is. And I 
 thoiaght moreover, that at the day of doom we shall 
 not be doomed to death or life, according to the hectoring 
 spirits of the Vv^orkl, but according to the wisdom and 
 law of the Highest. Therefore, thought 1, what God 
 says is best, though all the men in the world are ag<iinsc 
 it : seeing then that God prefers his religion ; seeing 
 
 * Nothing can be a stronger proof that we have lost the image of God, than 
 that shame whicli is natui-al to us, concerning the tilings of God. This, joined to 
 the shame of man, is a very powerful enemy to God's truths, Christ's glory, and 
 our soul's comfort. Better at once get rid of our apprehensions, by declaring 
 boldiv for Christ and his cause, than stand shivering on the brink of professioji, 
 ever ((reading the loss of our good n;ime and repntrtion : for Christ says, (awful 
 ■words) " Whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous 
 and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed when he 
 cometh in the glory of his Father. Mark viii. 38. It is one thing to be attuckei 
 by shame ; and another thing to be conquered by it. 
 
 (g) Luke xvi. 15. 
 
 18 
 
138 J^AITHFUJ. SHAKES OFF SHAME. 
 
 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 en- 
 tertain thee against my sovereign Lord '? how then shall 
 I look him in the face at his coming '? Should I now be 
 ashamed of his ways and servants, how can 1 expect 
 the blessing '^{a) But indeed this Shame was a bold 
 villain ; I could scarce shake him out of my company : 
 yea, he would be haunting of me, and continually whis- 
 pering me in the ear, with some one or other of the in- 
 firmities that attend religion : but at last 1 told him, it 
 was but in vain to attempt further in this business ; for 
 those thin_ii;s that he disdained, in those did 1 see most 
 glory : and so at last 1 got past this importunate one. 
 And when 1 had shaken him off, then 1 began to sing : 
 
 •* The trials that those men do meet withal, 
 Tfiat are obeilient to the heavenly call, 
 Are aianiiold and suited to llie fleth, 
 Atid come, and come and come a2;aiu afresh ; 
 Thai now, or sometimes else, we by theai may 
 Be taken, overcome, and cast away. 
 O let the pjljjrims. let the pilnrinis, then 
 Be vigilant, and quit themselves like mcu." 
 
 Chr. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst nith^ 
 stand this villain so bravely ; lor of all, as thou sa} est, 
 I think lie has the wrong name : for he is so bold as 
 to Ibiiow 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 himst if au- 
 dacious, he would never attempt to do as he does : but 
 let us stili resist him ; lor, notw ithstauding all his bra- 
 
 • Christian t-xpericnces pcrlVclly agree in regf.inl to sii.ime. No one ever set 
 out for t;lf>'7, but he \v:is attacked b\ sh.itiie in the wav. (iivinjj w»_> tn shitnie, 
 prevents mucFi j^lorv beiii(:r brought to our J>"i>us, who is not ashamed to eull us 
 brctlireu. ilcb. ii. 11. AIus ! we are prone to be usUaiued o! Chvist, ot° Lis 
 
 (a) Mark viii. SS. 
 
HAD SFNSHIX^E THROUGH THE VALLEYS. 139 
 
 vadpeS) he promoteth the fool, and none else. " The 
 wise shall inherit glory," said Solomon ; " but shame 
 shall be the promotion of fools. "(«) 
 
 Faith. I think we must cry to him, for help against 
 Shame, that would have us be valiant for truth upon the 
 earth. 
 
 Chr. You say true : but did you meet nobody else 
 in that valley ? 
 
 Faith. No, not I, for I had sunshine all the rest of 
 the way through that, and also through the valley of the 
 Shadow of Death. 
 
 Chr. It was well for you ; I am sure it fared far oth- 
 erwise with me : 1 had for a long season, as soon as al- 
 most 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 Sha- 
 dow 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. 
 
 ■words, and of his ways, which should be our greatest glory. O let us cry for 
 more boldness For Christ, our best friend, that shame may hide its pitiful head, 
 9nd skulk away from us as our greatest enemy. 
 
 Asham'd of Jesus ! yes we may. 
 When we've no sin to wash away. 
 No tears to wipe, no joys to crave^i 
 Or no immortal soul to save. 
 
 (a) Pro?, iii, 35. 
 
 ^%. 
 
140 TIIEY OVEllTAKi: TALKATIVi:: HIS 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PICTURE OF AN EMPTY PROFESSOR ACCURATELY DRAWN, 
 IX TIFE (;IIAK\(TER OF TALKATIVE, SON OF MR. SAY-WELI. 
 OF PRATJXC-UOW. 
 
 JVloiiEovER I saw in niy dream, that as they went on, 
 Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man, 
 whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance besides 
 them ;'^' for in tliis 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 P^iithful- 
 addressed himself in this manner : 
 
 Friend, whither away ? are you going to the heavenly 
 country ? 
 
 Talk. I am going to the same place. 
 
 Faith. That is well ; then 1 hope we may have your 
 good compaiiy. 
 
 Talk. With a very good will, Mill I be your com- 
 panion. 
 
 Faith. Come on then, and let us go together, and 
 let us spend our time in discoursing of things that arc 
 profitable. 
 
 Talk. To talk of things that are good, to me is 
 very acceptable, with you or ^\'ith any other ; and I 
 am glad that 1 have met with those that incline to so 
 good a work ; for, to speak the truth, there arc but 
 lew that 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. 
 
 Faith. That is indeed a thing to be lamented : for 
 Avhat thing so worthy of the use of the tongue and 
 
 There is :i i;rc!(t dift'iTonce belweei) liavinp; notions in the liead, anil being 
 «hlu lo tiilk of (locti-iiies of j;rare, ami cx|)L'rieneing the grace and power ol" those 
 Joctrincs iu the heart. Look to j ourselves. 13 Johu S. 
 
PLAUSIBLE CONA^ERSATION WITH FAITHFUL. l41 
 
 mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of 
 heaven ? 
 
 Talk. I Hke you wonderful well, for your sayings 
 are full of conviction : — and, I will add, \vhat things are 
 so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the 
 thinp:s of God ? 
 
 What things so plcc^sant ? 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 ? 
 
 Faith. That's true: but to be profited by such 
 things in our talk be our chief design. 
 
 Talk. That is it that I said; for to talk of such 
 things is most profitable : for by so doing a man may 
 get knowledge of many things ; as, of the vanity of 
 earthly things, and the benefit of things above. Thus in 
 ' general : but more particularly, by this a man may learn 
 the necessity of the new birth ; the insufficiency of our 
 works ; the need of Christ's righteousness, &c. Besides, 
 by this a man may learn what it is to repent, to believe, 
 to pray, to suffer, or the like ; by this also a man may 
 learn \vhat are the great j^romises and consolations of the 
 gospel, to his own comfort. Further, by this a man 
 may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, 
 and also to instruct the ignorant.* 
 
 Faith. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these 
 things from you. 
 
 Talk. Alas! the want of this is the cause that so 
 few understand the need of faith, and the necessity of a 
 work of grace in their soul, in order to eternal life ; 
 
 * Is not here the very stand^d of orthodoxy ? Hence observe, a mere pro- 
 fessor may learn, like a paiTQU to talk of sound doctrines, and may have a sound 
 judgment concerning them ; vTiiile his heart is rotten, as to any experience of 
 them, love to them, and '.he power and influence of them upon his affections and 
 liis life. Many own Christ for their master now, whora as their Judge he will 
 condemn hereafter. 
 
142 FAITHFUL BEGUILEn BY TALKATrVTl. 
 
 but ignorantly live in the Avorks of tlic la\v, by the 
 which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of 
 heaven. 
 
 Faith. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of 
 these is the gift of God ; no man atiaineth to them by 
 human industry, or only by the talk of them. 
 
 Talk. All that I know very well : for a man can re- 
 ceive nothing except it be given him from heaven ; all 
 is of grace, not of works : I could give you iin hundred 
 scriptures for the confirmation of this. 
 
 Well then, said Faithful, ^vhat is that one thing that 
 we shall at this time found our discourse upon ? 
 
 Talk. What you will : I will talk of things heavenly 
 or things earthly ; things moral or things evangelical ; 
 things sacred or things profane ; things past or things 
 to come ; things foreign or things at home ; things more 
 essential or things ciicumstantial ; proxided that all be 
 done to our profit. 
 
 Now did Faithful begin to wonder ; and step])ing to 
 Christian (for he walked all this while by himself) he 
 said to him, but softly. What a brave companion ha\e 
 we got ! surely this man will make a ver}- excellent 
 pilgrim. 
 
 At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This 
 man, with whom you are so taken, will beguile ^ith 
 this tongue of his twenty of them who know him 
 not. 
 
 Faith. Do you know him then? 
 
 Chr. Know him ? yes, better than he knows him- 
 self. 
 
 Faith. Pray what is he ? 
 
 Chr. His name is Talkative; he dwelleth in our 
 town ; I \\ onder that you should be a stranger to him ; 
 only I consider that our town is large. 
 
 Faith. Whose son is he ? and whereabouts doth he 
 dwell ? 
 
 Chr. He is the son of one Say-well, he dwelt in 
 Prating-row4 and is known, of all that are acquainted 
 
CHRISTIAN KNOWS AND EXPOSES mM. 143 
 
 with him, by the name of Talkative in Prating-row ; 
 and, notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry- 
 fellow.* 
 
 Faith. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. 
 
 Chr. That is, to them that have not a thorough ac- 
 quaintance with him ; for he is best abroad, near home 
 he is ugly enough : your saying, that he is a pretty 
 man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the 
 work of the painter, whose pictures show best at a dis- 
 tance, but very near more unpleasing. 
 
 Faith. I am ready to think you do but jest, be- 
 cause you smiled. 
 
 Chr. God forbid that I should jest (though I smi- 
 led) in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely. — 
 I will give you a further discfwery 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 there- 
 with.! 
 
 Faith. Say you so? then I am in tliis man great- 
 ly deceived. 
 
 Chr. Deceived ! you may be sure of it : remem- 
 ber the proverb, " They say, and do not :" but 
 " the kingdom of God is not in word, but in pow- 
 cr."(«) He talketh of prayer, of repentance, of laith, 
 and of the new- birth : but he knows but only to talk of 
 
 • Are we not forbid to speak evil of any man ? Titns iii. 2. Is not Christian 
 guilty of this ! No ; for where the glory of Gof), and lionoui' of the gospel is at 
 stake, and there is danger of a brother's being deceived by a meie talkative, loose, 
 wicked professor, here it is right, und the nature of things r.equire it, that we 
 should detect and expose such in a becoming spirit. 
 
 ■j" Such professors there are now as there always were. The blessed cause is 
 wounded by them, and the most glorious truths through them ai t- brought into 
 contempt. There is more hurt to be got by ihem, than from the utterly ignorant 
 nnd profane, SLun and avoid such. 
 
 («) Mm. .-t-xiii. 5. 1 Cor. iv. 20'; 
 
144 TALKATIVE'S TRUE CHARACTER. 
 
 tlicm. I have l)ccn in his family, and have observed 
 him liotli at lionie and abroad ; and I know what I say 
 of him is the truth. His house is as empty of reli- 
 gion as the white of an egg is of saNour. There is 
 there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; 
 yea, the Ijrute, in his kind serves G(xl far better than 
 he. He is the very stain, reproach, and shame, of re- 
 ligion, to all that know him :{a) it can hardly have a 
 good word in all that end of the town \vherc he dwells, 
 througii 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, tliat 
 they neither know how to do for, or speak to him. 
 Men that have any dealings with him s:iy it is better to 
 deal ^vith a Turk than with him ; for fairer dealings 
 they shall have at his hands. This Talkative, if it be 
 possible, will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and 
 over-reach them. Besides, he brings up his sons to 
 follow his steps ; and if he finds in any of them a ^^Jbol- 
 uh timoroiisnesSy'''' (for so he calls the first appearance 
 of a tender conscience,) he calls them fools and block- 
 heads, and by no means will employ them in much, or 
 speak to their commendations before others. For my 
 part, I am of opinion that he has by his wicked life 
 caused many to stumble and fall ; and will be, if God 
 prevents not, the ruin of many more.* 
 
 Faith. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe 
 you ; not only because you say you know him, but al- 
 
 • Read lliis anil tremble, ye whose profession lies only on yonr tongue, but who 
 never experienced the love and grace of (Mii-ist in your so\ds. O how do yf>u trifle 
 ■witli the grace of God, and with the holy wf)rd of truth ! O what an awful acrtiunt 
 have you to give hereafter to a holy, heai'l-searcliing (iod ! Vc true pilgrims of 
 .lesus, read this, and give glory toyimr Lord, for saving \oii from resting in bar- 
 ren notions, and taking u\) uilh talking of truths; and that he has given you to 
 know the truth in its power, lu embrace it in your heart, and to live and walk 
 uader its sanctifying iiiQuences. Who made you to difter ? 
 
 (h) Rom. ii. '23, 2i. 
 
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SAYING AND DOING; 145 
 
 SO because like a Christian you make your reports of 
 men. For I cannot think that you speak those things of 
 ill will, but because it is even so as you say. 
 
 Chr. Had I known him no more than you, I might 
 perhaps have thought of him as at the first you did : 
 yea, had he received this report at their hands only, 
 that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it 
 had been a slander, (a lot that often fells 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. 
 
 Faith. Well, I see that saying and doing are two 
 things, and hereafter I shall better observe this distinc- 
 tion. 
 
 Chr. They are two tilings 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 practic part : " pure religion and undefiled, be- 
 fore God and the Father, is this : to visit the flither- 
 less and widows in their affliction, and to keep him- 
 self imspotted from the world. "(a) This Talkative is 
 not aware of: he thinks that hearing and saijing will 
 make a good Christian ; and thus he deceiveth his own 
 soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed ; talk- 
 ing 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 tlieir 
 fruits \{b) it will not be said then, " Did you believe ?" 
 but, " Were you doers^ or talkers only ?*■ and accord- 
 
 * Though sinners are redeemed, and their sins washed away by the blond of 
 Christ — though by faith they are fully justilJcd, though the gift of God is eterrfs.l 
 
 («) James i. 22—2?'. (i) Malt. siii. Q3. 
 
 19 
 
146 AIERE TALKERS, UNCLEAN. 
 
 in£?ly shall they be judged. The end of the world b 
 compared to our harvest ; and you know men at har\est 
 regard nothing but fruit. Not that any thing can be ac- 
 cepted that is not of faith ; but I speak this to show you 
 Jiow insignificant the profession of Talkative w ill be at 
 that day.' 
 
 Faith. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by 
 which he described the beast that is clean :{a^ — he is 
 such an one that jjarteth 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 resem- 
 bleth 'l\ilkative ; he cheweth the cud, he seeketh know- 
 ledge ! he cheweth upon the word ; but he divideth not 
 the hoof, he parteth not with the way of sinners ; but, as 
 the hare, he retaincih the foot of a dog or be^ir, and 
 therefore he is unclean. 
 
 Chr. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true 
 gospel sense of those texts. And I will add another 
 thing : Paul calleth some men, yea, and those great ta//c- 
 ers too, " sounding brass and tinkling cymbals ;" that is, 
 as he expounds them in another place, " things w ithout 
 life giving sound. "(/6) " Things without life ;" that is, 
 without the true faith and grace of the gospel ; and con- 
 sequently things that shall never be placed in the kingdom 
 of heaven among those that are the children of lite, 
 though their sound, by their talk, be as it were the 
 tongue or voice of an angel. 
 
 Faith. Well, I was not so fond of his company at 
 first, but am as sick of it now. \V'hat shall we do to 
 be rid of him ? 
 
 llff, tliroiii;!) Jesus Cliiist : vet none are partakers of tlics<! invaliiiiltle bk-ssinfjs, 
 lint those w'liri liHVe liviii<; faith in Christ And this l;iilh, u hich is the j;it't i>l Cioil, 
 itiunilV^its itself b_\ its oheihence to the will ol' (iod, :<ntl in hriri};iiitj foilh fruits to 
 the glory of (ioil. Thereforf, let no one <lfcei\e himself: for faith without works 
 is ileal!, unii a ilcad faith never bepets living hope upon a risen Saviour: nor will 
 ft avail, when he shall appear as the Judge. 
 
 («^ Lev. si. Deut. xiv. (6) 1 Cor. xiii. I — 3. xiv. 7. 
 
FAITHFUL'S QUESTION TO TALKATIVE. 147 
 
 Chr. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and 
 you shall find that he will soon be sick of your com- 
 pany too, except God shiiU touch his heart and turn 
 it. 
 
 Faith. What would you have me to do ? 
 
 Chr. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious 
 discourse about the power of religion ; and ask him 
 plainly, when he has approved of it, (for that he will,) 
 whether this thing be set up in his heart, house, or con^ 
 versation ?* 
 
 Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to 
 Talkative, Come, what cheer ? how is it now ? 
 
 Talk. Thank you, well ; I thought we should have 
 had a great deal of talk by this time. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will, 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 ? 
 
 Talk 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 an- 
 swer in brief thus : — first, where the grace of God is in 
 the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. — 
 Secondly, — 
 
 FaIth. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once : I 
 think you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining 
 the soul to abhor its sin. 
 
 Talk. Why, what difference is there between crying 
 out agai.ist, and abhorring of, sin ? 
 
 Faith. Oh ! a great deal. A man may cry out 
 against sin, of policy, but he cannot abhor it, but by 
 virtue of a godly antipathy against it : 1 have heard 
 
 • Without this, all is empty notion, mere sound, and unavailing profession. 
 Men onlj lake up fancy for faith ; the foinu of godliness instead of the power : 
 and the old nature is dressed up in the specious appearance of new pretensions. 
 True faith will ever shew itself by its fruits : a real conversion, by the life and 
 conversation. Be not deceived : God is not mocked with the tongue, if the hear*; 
 h not risht towards him ia lovo and obedience. 
 
143 FAITHFUL REFUTES TALKATIVE; 
 
 many cry out ai^ainst sin in the ])ulpit, who yet can 
 abide it well cnoii^t^li in tlie heart, house, and conversa- 
 tion. Joseph's mistress cried with a loud voice, as if 
 she had been very holy ; but she Mould ^\•illingly, not- 
 M'ithstanding that, ha\'e conuiiitted uncleanness with 
 him. (a) Some cry out against sin, even as the mother 
 cries out against her child in her lap, when she ealleth 
 it slut, and naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and 
 kissing it. 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch, I perceive. 
 Faith. No, not 1 ; I am only for setting things 
 right. But what is die second thing whereby you will 
 prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart ? 
 Talk. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries. 
 Faith. This sign should have been first ; but, first 
 or last, it is also false ; for knowledge, great kno\\ledge, 
 may be obtained in the mysteries of the gospel, and 
 vet no work of grace in the soul.(/-») Yea, if a man 
 iiave all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so, con- 
 sequently, be no child of God. When Christ siiid, 
 " Do ye know all these things V and the disciples had 
 answered. Yes, — he added, " Blessed are ye if ye do 
 them." He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing 
 of diem, but in the doing of them. For there is a 
 knowledge that is not attended with doing : " he that 
 knowedi his master's \vill, and doeth it not." A man 
 ma}' know like an angel, and yet be no Christian : 
 therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to knoWy 
 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 t 
 knowledge that restcth in the bare speculation of things, 
 and knowledge that is accompanied with the grace of 
 faith and love ; which puts a man upon doing CAcn the 
 will of God from the he:u-t ; the first of these will serve 
 
 («) Ccu. xxxix. 11— Li. (A) I Cor. .xiii. 
 
AND SHEWS THE SIGNS OP A WORK OF GRACE. il49 
 
 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. "(«) 
 
 Talk. You lie at the catch again ; this is not for edi- 
 fication. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you please, propound another sign 
 how this work of grace discovereth itself where it is. 
 
 Talk. Not I ;' for I see we shall not agree. 
 
 Faith. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave 
 to do it ? 
 
 Talk. You may use your liberty. , 
 
 Faith. A work of grace in the soul discovereth itiself, 
 either to him that hath it, or to standers by. 
 
 To him that hath it, thus : it gives him conviction 
 of sin, especially of the defilement of his nature, and 
 the sin of unbelief, for the sake of which he is sure to 
 be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by 
 faith in Jesus Christ.((6) This sight and sense of things 
 worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he fincieth, 
 moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, 
 and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life; 
 at the which he findeth liungerings and thirstings after 
 him ; to which hungerings, &c. the promise is made,(c) 
 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 dis- 
 covereth itself thus unto him, }'et it is but seldom that 
 he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace : be- 
 cause 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 judg- 
 ment, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is 
 a work of grace. 
 
 (a) Psal. exix. 34. (6) Mark xvi. 16. Jolm xvi. 8, 9. Rom. vii. 24. 
 
 (c) Psal. xxxviii. 18. Jcr. xxxi, 13. Matt. v. 6. Acts iv. 12, Gal. i. 15, 16. 
 Rev. xxi. 0, 
 
ioO APPLIES TflE^I TO T.\LK\nVR'S COXSCIENCE, 
 
 To Others it is thus discovered : — 1. Bv- an experi- 
 nieutal confession of his faith in Christ. — 2. Bv a hfe 
 answerable to that confession ; to wit, a life of hohness : 
 lieart-hohncss, famih'-Iioliness (if he hath a familv,) and by 
 conversation-liohness in the world ; vvhicli in the general 
 teacheth him inwardly to ablior his sin, and himself for 
 that in secret ; to suppress it in his family, and to pro- 
 mote holiness in the world ; not by talk only, as an h\ po- 
 crite or talkative person may do, but by a practical sub- 
 jection in faith and love to the power of the word.*(rt) 
 And now. Sir, as to ihis brief description of the work 
 of fjra<y, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught 
 to object, object ; if not, then give me leave to propound 
 to you a second question. 
 
 Talk. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear: 
 let me therefore have your second question. 
 
 Faith. It is this : Do you experience this first part 
 of tlie description of it ; and doth your life and conversa- 
 tion testify the same ? or standcth your religion in ivord 
 or tongue, and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you in- 
 cline 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 who 
 commendcth himself is approved, but w horn the Lord 
 commendcth." Besides, to say I am thus and thus, 
 Mhen my conversation, and all my neighbours tell me I 
 lie, is great wickedness. f 
 
 Then Talkativ e at first began to blush ; but recover- 
 ing himself, thus he replied : You come now to expe- 
 rience, to conscience, and God ; and to apjieal to him 
 
 • This, anil this only, is what will eviilcnce that we are real disciples of Christ, 
 lionoui- Ills iKimc anil his truths, and ivtomincnd his religion in the world. Without 
 this powei- of s;n(hiness, we have oidy a name to live, while we are dead to the 
 jiuwer of the !;os|)el Examine voiirsolf: look to your ways. 
 
 I Blessed, hiilhiul de.tlin;,- ! Mihat it was nioic iiraelised in the world and in the 
 ehmxh 1 I low thc'ii would vain talkers be delected in the one, and driven out of 
 the other ! 
 
 (o) Psal. 1. 23. Ezek. x\. 43. Matt. v. 8. John xiv. 15. Rom. x. ?, 10. 
 rhil. lii. 17— CO. 
 
WHO DEPARTS OFFENDED. 151 
 
 ioY 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 1 count not myself bound 
 thereto, unless you take upon you to be a catechiser ; 
 and though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make 
 you my judge. But I pray, will you tell me why you 
 ask me such questions ?* 
 
 Faith. Because I saw you forward to talk, and be- 
 cause 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 tliat 
 your conversation gives this your profession the lie. 
 They say you are a spot among Christians ; and that 
 religion fareth the worse for your ungodly conversation ; 
 that some already have stumbled at your wicked ways, 
 and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby ; 
 your religion and an ale-house, and covetousness, and 
 uncleanness, and swearing, and lying, and vain company- 
 keeping, &c. will stand together. The proverb is true 
 of you, which is said of a whore, to wit, that " she is a 
 shame to all women ;" so you are a shame to all profess- 
 ors. 
 
 Talk. Since you are ready to take up reports, and to 
 judge so rashly as you do, I cannot but conclude you 
 are some peevish or melancholic man, not fit to be dis- 
 coursed with : and so, adieu. f 
 
 Then came up 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 sup- 
 
 • Heart-searching, soul-exarnining, and close-qaestioning of the conduct of life 
 Vill not do with talkative professors. Ring a peal on the doctrines of grace, anil 
 many will chime in with yon ! hut sjieak closely how grace operates upon the heait 
 and influences the life to follow Christ in self-<ienying obedience, tlic-y cannot btui' 
 it; they are offended with you, and will turn away from \ou, and call you legal 
 
 t Where the heart is rotten, it will ward oil' con\iclion, turn from a taitliful 
 reprover, condemn him, and justiiy itself. Faithful dealing \s\\\ uot do for Untidth- 
 ftfl souls. Mind not that, but be faithful t-o the truth. 
 
152 CONVERSATION REL-VT^-E TO TALKATIVE. 
 
 pose he ^^•iil do) as he is, he would have been but a blot 
 in }'Our company : besides, the apostle sa}s, " From such 
 withdraw thyself." 
 
 Faith. But I am glad we had this little discourse with 
 him ; it may happen that he will think of it again : how- 
 ever, I have dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of 
 his blood if he ])erisheth.* 
 
 Chr. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you 
 did ; there is but little of this faithful dealing with men 
 now-a-days, and that makes religion to stink so in the 
 nostrils of many as it doth : for there are these talkative 
 fools, whose religion is only in words, and are debauched 
 and vain in their conversation, that, being so much ad- 
 mitted 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 be either made more conforma- 
 ble to religion, or the company of saints would be too hot 
 ior them. Then did Faithful say — 
 
 " How Talkative at fust lifts up his plumrs? 
 
 i How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes 
 
 To drive down all before him ! But so sooo 
 As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the mooQ 
 
 ' That's past the full, iuto the wane he goes : 
 
 And so will all but he that heart-work knows." 
 
 Thus they went on talking of what they had seen by 
 the Avay, and so made that way easy which would other- 
 jwise no doubt have been tedious to them : for no^v they 
 v\ent through a wildcrness-f 
 
 • Mi.id this. These are right principles to act from, and right ends to have iii 
 ^icw, in failliful reproving, or aiming to convict our fellow-sinners. Study and 
 jmrsuc tlifse. 
 
 t Spiritual observations and conferences on past experiences, are very enlivening; 
 to the soi.l. Tliev very often ch3np;e the wilderness of dejeciion into a panlen ol 
 deli;;hts; and so "beRiiiie llic wcarv sfpa of pilgrims lhn)u;j;li tedious paths O 
 Christians, look more to Gliiisf, anil talk more to each other of his love to you, 
 and dealings with you. 
 
CHRISTIAN AND FAITHFUL MEET EVANGELIST. 155 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PERSECUTION EXHIBITED, IN THE TREATMENT OF CHRISTIAN 
 AND FAITAFUL IN VANITY FAIR. 
 
 Now when Christian and Faithful were got almost 
 quite out of this wilderness, Faithful chanced to cast his 
 eye back, and spied 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 it was he that set me in the way to 
 the gate. Now as Evangelist came up unto them, he 
 thus saluted them : 
 
 Peace be with you, dearly beloved ; and peace be to 
 your helpers. 
 
 Chr. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the 
 sight of thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy 
 ancient kindness and unwearied labours for my eternai 
 good. 
 
 And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful ; 
 thy company, O sweet Evangelist, how desirable is it to 
 us poor pilgrims !* 
 
 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 beliaved your- 
 selves ?f 
 
 Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things 
 that had happened to them in the way ; and ho\\ , 
 
 * A sincere and cordial love for gospel ministers, under a sense of their beino- 
 made instrumental to our soul's profit, is a sure and a blessed sign of a pilgrim's 
 spirit. 
 
 f To inquire after the concerns and prosperity of the soul, should always be the 
 business of faithful ministers of Christ : but is not this sadly neglected ? O how 
 often do ministers visit and depart', without close experimental converse with their 
 people ! Hence both suffer present loss, and much liarm is the consequence. 
 
 •2f) 
 
154 fiVAKGELIST'S EXHORTATION. 
 
 and with uhat difficulty, they h:id arrived to that 
 place. 
 
 Right p^lad am I, said Evangelist, not thnt you have 
 met with trials, but that you have been vict(3rs, and for 
 that you have, notw ithstanding many weaknesses, con- 
 tinued in the way to this very day. I say, right glad 
 am I of this thing, and that for my own sake and } our's. 
 I have sowed and you have rcuped ; and the day is 
 coming, when " both he that sowed and they that reaped 
 shall rejoice together;" that is, if you holdout; "for 
 in due time ye shall reap, if you faint not."(r/) The 
 crown is before you, and it is an incorruptible one ; 
 " so run, that you may obtain it." Some there be that 
 set out for this crown, and after they have gone far for 
 it, another comes in and takes it from them ; " hold 
 fast therefore that you have, let no man take your 
 crown :"(<0) you are not yet out of the gun-shot of the 
 devil : " you have not resisted unto blood, striving 
 against sin :" let the kingdom be always before you, 
 and believe steadfastly concerning things that are invisi- 
 ble : let nothing that is on this side the other w orld 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 poNver in heaven and earth on your 
 side.* 
 
 Then Christian thanked him for his exhortation ; but 
 told him withal, that they vould l^ne him speak lurther 
 to them for their help the rest of the way ; and the ra- 
 ther, for that they well knew that he \\as a prophet, and 
 could tell them of things that might happen unto thrm, 
 and how they might resist and overcome them. To 
 
 • llrrc is :i lilosstd word of cncourajicmcnt, of warning anil of cxlioitatinii, to 
 be stc'iulfust in Tiilli, j(i\ful in hope, \ihic1iI'iiI owr our IumiIs, ami to alionnd in llie 
 uork of ilic l,oiii. All tills Is lonaiauih ncoi'.ss:ii-\ for pilgriius. Faithful niiiiis* 
 tt'i's will give aihicc, ami pilgrims will be thankful for such. 
 
 (a) John iv. oC. Gal. vi. 0. (A) 1 Cor. L\. 21—27, Rev. iii. t 
 
FORETELLS THEIR APPROACHING TRIALS. 155 
 
 I 
 
 which request Faithful also' consented. So Evangelist 
 begin as followeth : 
 
 My sons, you have heard in the words 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 on you ;" 
 and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long 
 on your pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other. 
 You have fc)und something of the truth of these testimo- 
 nies upon you already, and more will immediately fol- 
 low : 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 toxvn 
 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 feithful 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 pains per- 
 ha,js great, he will yet have the better of his fellow, not 
 only because he will be arrived at the Celestial City soon- 
 est, but because he will escape many miseries that the 
 other will meet with ^in the rest of his journey. But 
 \vhen you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled 
 what I have here related, then remember 3'our friend, 
 and quit yourselves like men ; and " commit the keep- 
 ing of vour souls to your God in well-doing, as unto a 
 faithfulCreator."* 
 
 Then I saw in my dream that, when they were got 
 out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town be- 
 fore them ; the name of that town is Vanity ; and at 
 that town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair : it is 
 
 • Woe unto Ihem that fold tlieir huiids, and fall asleep in strong confidence. 
 You see what hard work yet lay before these pil|^iiais Let us ever remember, 
 this is not our rest We must lie pi-essing forwarti, figbtini^ the good fight of faith, 
 labouring to enter into that rest which remaineth for the people cf God: looking 
 diligently, lest we fail of the grace of God. Heb. i;ii.5. 
 
156 VAMTY FAIR DESCRIBED. 
 
 kept r.ll the year long : it beareth the name of Vanity 
 f:iir, because the town ^\lKTe it is kept is " lighter than 
 vanity," and also, because all that is there sold, or that 
 Cometh thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, 
 *' All that comelh is vanity. "(a) 
 
 Tiiis fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of 
 ancient standing : I will shew you the original of it 
 
 Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims 
 •walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest per- 
 sons are : and Beelzebub, ApoUyon, and Legion, \\ith 
 their companions, perceiving, b} the path that the pil- 
 grims made, that their way to their 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, honours, prefenuents, titles, countries, kingdoms, 
 lusts, pleasures ; and delights of all sorts, as whores, 
 bauds, 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 bQ 
 seen juggiings, clieats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, 
 iind rogues, and that of every kind. 
 
 Here are to be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, 
 murdtr ;, adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood- 
 red colour.* 
 
 And as in other fairs of less moment, there arc 
 several rows ai.d streets under tlieir proper names, 
 
 • A just description of tl»is wicked world. How many, tliough tliey profess to 
 be pilgrims, havo iievfi* yi't set one foot out of this fair , but live in it all llic year 
 I'Oimd ! 'I'lu-y walk accordinp; to Uit- course of lliis world. Epli ii. '2. For the 'Go<1 
 of this word hatli blinded tlieir mind. 1 Cor iv. 4. You cannot be a pilgrim, if 
 )'ou are not delivered from tliis woi-ld and its Aanities; for if you love tlie norld, 
 .if it has your supreme ;iHections, the love of Cio<l is not iu you. 1 John ii. 15. You 
 have not cue grain of faith in Jesus. 
 
 (n) Eocles. i, 2— U. ii. 17. \i. 8. Isaiah x\. IT. 
 
FURTHER ACCOUNT OF VANITY FAIR. 157 
 
 where such wares are vended, so here Hkewise you have 
 the proper places, rows, streets, (viz. 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 commodit}^ is as the chief of all the fair, 
 so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly pro- 
 moted 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 the town where this lusty fair is kept : and he 
 that will go to the City, and yet not go tlii^ough this 
 town, " must needs go out of the world." 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 diis 
 fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities ; yea, would 
 have made him lord of the fair, would he but have 
 done him reverence as he went through the town : yea, 
 because he was such a person of honour, Beelzebub 
 had 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 bu} 
 some of his vanities ; but he had no mind to the mer- 
 chandise, and therefore left the tow-n without laying out 
 so much as one farthing upon these vanities, (c) This 
 fair, therefore, is an ancient thing, of long standing, and 
 a very great fair. 
 
 Now these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through 
 this fair. Well, so they did ; but, behold, even as 
 
 * The doctrine of the church of Rome. It is much to be wished, that the vile 
 presumption of man's bartering with God, and puichasing a title to heaven, by his 
 performing terms and conditions «»f salvatien, meriting heaven by his good works, 
 and procuring justification by his own obedience, to the exalting his pride, and the 
 debasing the work and glory of Christ, was totally rejected by us. But alas ! thest 
 proad^ unscriptural notions too much prevail. 
 
 («) Matt. ir. 8, 9. Luke iv. 5—7. 
 
158 A HURBUB IN' TTTB PAIR. 
 
 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 pili^rinis were elothed with such kind of 
 raiment, as was di\erse from the raiment of any that 
 traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fiir, 
 made a i^reat gazing upon them : some said they were 
 fools ;(«) some, they Avere bedlams ; and some, the}- \\'ere 
 outlandish men. 
 
 Secondly, And, as they wondered at their apparel, so 
 they did likewise at their speech ; for few could under- 
 stand what they said : they naturally spoke the language 
 of Canaan ; but they that kept the f lir, were the men of 
 this world : so ih it from one end of the fair to the odier, 
 ihcy seemed b.irbarians eax:h to the other. 
 
 Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the 
 merchandisers was, that these pilgrims set very light by 
 all their wares : they eared 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 
 juine eyes from beholding vanity ;{[>) and look upwards, 
 signifying, that their trade and traffic was in heaven. 
 
 One chanced, mockingly, beholding the carnages 
 of the men, to say unto them, " What \\ ill ye boy '?" 
 but they looking gravely U{)on him, said, ^^^e " buy 
 the truth. "*(r) At that, there was an occasion taken 
 
 • An oilil ri'idy. "Wliat do they mean ? That tlioy arc neither afraid nor 
 nshanted to own, what was the one object of their soul's pursuit Tiie Tnith. 
 Uiiderstainl hereby, tliat tlic whole worM. Mliich lieth in wii-kedness, suflVr iheni- 
 sclvps In lie (ieeei\eil l)y a lie, and are under the delusion of the (Hther of lies, la 
 opposition to tiiis all believers in Chfist are f>:iid to be of the truth. 1 John iii. 10. 
 They know and believe that cajtital truth «ith which fJod sjieaks from In-aven, 
 " This is niv helo\ed Son, in whom I am well pleased." Matt. iii. I". This truth, 
 that Jesus is the Son of God, and our only Saviour, lies at the foundation of all 
 tiieir Imni- : and to get more t<c(|uainted with him, is the {jr»nd object of their pur- 
 suit. For this, I he world hates tluMu ; and .Safan. who is an enemy to this truth, 
 stirs up the world against ihi-m. '' For (sa\s our Lordj they are not of the world, 
 even ab 1 am not of the world.'' John Kvii. IG. 
 
 (a) 1 Cor. iv. P, 10. (*) Tsal. cxix. 37. (0 I'rov. xxiii. CO 
 
THF. PILGRIMS APPREHENDED AND EXAMINED. 159 
 
 to despise the men the more : some mocking, some taunt- 
 ing, some speaking rtproachfuliy, and some calling upon 
 others to smite them. At last, things came to a hubbub 
 and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all order was con- 
 founded. Now was -word presently brought to the great 
 one of the fair, who quickly came down, and depuied 
 some of his most trusty friends to take those men into 
 examination, about v\hom the fair was almost ovtrturned. 
 So the men were brought to examination ; and they that 
 sat upon them, asked them whence they came, ^^•hither 
 they went, and what they did there in such an unusual 
 garb ? The men told them that they were pilgrims and 
 strangers in the world ; and that they were going to their 
 own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem ;(a) and 
 that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, 
 nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to 
 stop them in their journey : except it was for that, w hen 
 one asked them what thty 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 el^e 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 dien 
 put them into the cage, that they might be made a spec- 
 tacle to all the men in the lair.* Therefore they lay for 
 some time, and were made the objects of any man's sport, 
 or malice, or revenge ; the grtat one of the fair laughmg 
 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 
 
 • If we possess nothing to distinguish us finm the rest of the world, wliich lieth 
 in wickedness, and for which tlu-y will hate and dt-spise iis, we have no reiison to 
 conclude thiit we are new creatures in Clirist Jesus If we are Christ's, we must 
 become fools for Clirist, and be counted hs mad by those who know not Christ; for 
 ii alive to Christ, we shall be crucified to the wo Id. " Woe be unto you, if aU 
 tnen speak well ef you," saiih Christ. Luke vi. 26. 
 
 (n) Heb. :ri. 13—16". 
 
160 THEIR CONFINEMENT AND MEEK BEHAVIOUR. 
 
 for injuries done, some men in the fair, that were more 
 observing and less prejudiced than the rest, beg-an to 
 check and iDlame the baser sort, for their continual abuses 
 done by tliem to the men : the}' therefore in angry man- 
 ner 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 mis- 
 fortune. The others replied, that, for aught they could 
 see, the men were quiet and sober, and intended nubody 
 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 there 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 uj) 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 re- 
 ceived the ignominy and shame diat was cast upon 
 them, with so much meekness and patience, that itf 
 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 con- 
 
 • It is common for the world to be tlivided in their opinions about pilgrims. A 
 C'lirislian conilnct anil hehaviour Mill put to silence the gainsaying of some wicked 
 men; and sometimes win others to become followers of Christ O pilgrims, look 
 veil to your spii-it, temper, and conduct towards the men of tliis world, who keep 
 vanity fairs all the year. 
 
 I it is acting in the spirit and temper of Ciirist that will g:un ailversaries over to 
 him; wheii-as a contrary Spirit is a dishonour to Christ, a repioacli to his cause, 
 never did good to others, nor left the soul iu the solid i>ussc*sioQ of the peace o^' 
 (jud. 
 
THEIR INDICTMENT. 161 
 
 eluded 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 fur- 
 ther order should be taken with them. So they put them 
 in, and made their feet fast in the stocks. 
 
 Here, therefore, they called again to mind, what they 
 had heard from their faithful friend Evangelist, and were 
 the more confirmed in their ways 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 secret- 
 ly wished that he might have that preferment : but com- 
 mitting 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 other- 
 wise 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 beiore 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 con- 
 tents Avhereof was this : 
 
 " That they were enemies to, and disturbers of, their 
 trade : that they had made commotions and divisions in 
 the town, and had won a party to thtir own most dan- 
 gerous 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 dis- 
 
 * You see your calling, brethren. Has no such indictment been erer brought 
 against you ? Then it is to be feared, what Pharaoh said to the Israe ites may be 
 S!ud to you Ye are idle, ye are idle, in the ways of the Lord; ye want !o>e to 
 his name, fervency for his tiutli, and zeal for his glory, and the good of precious 
 
 >iOUls. 
 
 21 
 
162 TIIE EVTDEXCE OP F-N\T, 
 
 turbancc, T make none, being myself a man of peace ; 
 the parties that were won to lis, \vi re won b} beh(j,cling 
 our truth and innocence, and they iire only turned Irom 
 the worse to the better. And as to the kins^ yf)u tulk of, 
 since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy 
 him and ail his angels. 
 
 Then j)roclamation was made, that they that had aught 
 to say lor 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, Env} , Super- 
 stition, and Pickthank : they were then asked, if tliey 
 knew the prisoner at the bar ; and w liat they had to siij 
 for their lord the king against him ? 
 
 Then stood forth En\y, and said to this effect : My 
 lord, I have known this man a long time, and will at- 
 test upon my o.ith beibre this honourable bench, that 
 he is 
 
 Judge. Hold, give him his oath. 
 
 So they sware lum. — 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 notit^ns, 
 M hich he in the general calls " principles of faith, and 
 holiness. And, in particular, I heurd turn onee myself 
 aflirm, that Christianity and the customs of our town 
 of Vanity were diameiricall) opj)osite, and could not be 
 reconciled. By which saying, my lord, he doth at once 
 not only condemn all our laudab.c doings, but us in the 
 doing of them. 
 
 Then did the judge siiy unto 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, w hen 
 the other gentlemen have L;ivcn in their c vidence, r.;ther 
 than any thing shall be WwUitiug dkit wul despatch lum, I 
 
SUPERSTITION, ANB PICKTHAXK. 16S 
 
 Will enlarg^e my testimony against him. — So he was bid 
 to st.nd by.* 
 
 Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon 
 the prisoner ; they also asked, what he could say for 
 their lord the king agamst him ? Then they svvare him ; 
 so he began : 
 
 My lord, I h;ive no great acquaintance with this man, 
 nor do I desire to h.ive further knowledge of him ; how- 
 ever, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from 
 some discourse tint the other day I had with him in this 
 town ; lor then, talking with him, 1 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 lordbhip very well kno^vs, what necessarily thence 
 ■will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in vain, are 
 yet in our sins, and finally will be damned ; and this is 
 that which I have to say.f 
 
 I'hen was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew 
 in behalf of their lord the king, against the prisoner at the 
 bur. 
 
 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 honourdble friends, whose names are the Lord 
 Oid-man, the Lord Carnal-delight, the Lord Luxurious, 
 the Lord Dcbire-of- vain-glory, my old Lord Lechery^ 
 
 • The epirit of wisdom asks, " Who is able to stHnd before envy ?" Pr07. 
 xxvii. 4. Envy is the very temper ol tlie devil. It is natural to us all. But '»liy 
 sbould the children of iliis woiid envy God's cliildren ? for they are strangers to 
 tlie sinrituai goo<t things they enjoy They neitjit r seek them, nor care for iliem, 
 but Uugli and deride tlum Herein tlie very s|)irit of Satan is manifest. He en- 
 vied Christ, l>eing the Son of (iod : lie stirred up Jnd.s to betray him, ami the 
 Jews for envy delivered him Mutt. x\x\ii. 18: and the same spirit works in all the 
 children of Satan against the children of God. 
 
 t Superstition, or false devotion, is a most bitter enemy to Christ's truths and 
 to his followers. This fellow's evidence is true ; foi- as the lawyers said of Christ's 
 doctrine, " Master, thus saying, thou reproacbest us also. Luke \i. 45 ; so false 
 ■worshippers, who rest in forms, and lites, and shadows, are stung to the (juick at 
 those who worship God in the Sjiirit, i-ejoiee in Christ .lesus, and have no confidence 
 in the flesh. Such a conduct pours the Utmost contempt upon all the doctrines and 
 aiupersUuons of carnal men, 
 
164 FAITrfFUL REPLIES TO THE WITNESSES. 
 
 Sir Ha\ iiiGj 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, 
 lie hath not been aiiaid to rail on you, my lord, who are 
 now appointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly 
 villain, with many other such-like vilif) ing terms, with 
 which he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our 
 town.* 
 
 VV hen this Pickthank had told his tale, die judge di- 
 rected his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou 
 renegade, heretic, and traitor, hast thou heard w hat these 
 honest gentlemen have witnessed agijnst thee ? 
 
 Faitk. May I speak a few words in my own de- 
 fence ? 
 
 Judge. Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservestto 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 renegade hast to say. 
 
 Faith. 1 say then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath 
 spoken, I never said aught but this, that what rule, or 
 law s, or custom, or people, were flat against die wcird 
 of God, are diametrically opposite to Christianity. If I 
 have said amiss in this, convince me of my en-or, and I 
 am ready here before you to make my recantation. 
 
 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 w ill of 
 God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the w orJiip of 
 God, that ib not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be 
 done but by an human faith, w hich faith w ill not be profit- 
 able to eternal life. 
 
 * As soon as the poor sinner says, " O Ijorcl our God, otlicr lonls I)csi(l('s tlice 
 Imve !i;itl iIk- ijuniinion o^c■^ nic; but by tbrc aloni- will I make nieiition ol thy 
 n;tiiic " Isii. xxvi. 13; your ofliciidis I'irktlianks an hI\n:ivs i< a(l> to biar testimony 
 .ngiiiiist liini : and a bii'sscil (cslimon) lliis is, ii is well woitb livihg to R:iiii, and dy- 
 ini; ill tlic tar.se of Ii wu arc real disoiples of Christ, the world Mill hate us for 
 his sake. John viL 7. 
 
LORD HATE-eOOD'S CHARGE TO THE JURY. 165 
 
 As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, (say I avoiding 
 terms, as that 1 am said to rail, and the like,) that the 
 prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attend- 
 ants, by this gentleman named, are more fit for 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 those 
 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 1 think meet 
 to instruct you in our law. 
 
 There was an act made in the da}'s 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. (a) — There 
 was an act also 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 the fiery furnace. (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 lions' den.(c) 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 sus- 
 picion, to prevent mischief, no crime yet being appa- 
 rent ; but here is a crime apparent. For the second 
 and third ; — you see he disputeth against our religion ; 
 
 • This is tiie Christian's plea and his glory: While he knows, the tender 
 mercies of the wicked are cruel, Prov. xii 10 ; yet he also knows tliat the mer- 
 «;iful kindness of the Lord is great, and the truth of the Lord endureth for ever. 
 Psalm cxvii. 2. 
 
 (a) Exod. i. (6) Dan. iii. (c) Dan. \i; 
 
166 PAITflPUL'S CONDP,MV\TIOV AVD MARTYTIDOU. 
 
 and for the treason he hath confessed he deservedi to die 
 tlie death. 
 
 Then went the jury out, whose nam^s were Mr. 
 B!i idm.in, Mr. No-n^ kxI, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-hist, 
 Mr. Live-loose, Mr. HMdy, M''. H;gh-aiind, Mr. Kn- 
 mity, Mr. Li ir, Mr. Cruelty, Mr H ite-lit^ht, and Mr. 
 Imnl ic ible ; who every one ^ave in his private \ cr diet 
 agtinst him amon^ themselves, and afterwards unani- 
 mously concluded to briny; him in guilty before the judge. 
 And first among themselves, — Mr Blindman, the fore- 
 man, said, I see clearly, that this man is an heretic. 
 Then said Mr, No-good, away with such a fellow from 
 the earth. Ay, said Mr. Milice, for I hate the very looks 
 of him. Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never en- 
 dure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would 
 alwavs be condemning my way. Hang him, hang him, 
 said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. 
 Mv heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmit}'. He is a 
 rouge, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, 
 said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out of the way, 
 said Mr. H ite-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 ac- 
 cording 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 jiricked him 
 with their swords ; and List of all they burned him to 
 ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. 
 
 • A Messed verdict ! well worlliy <>f ''vcrr pilgrim to olitaiii. Kcader, do you 
 prnffss to he one ? See tli'ii lliMt y(»u stnly to ;ict so «s to gain sncli a veidii' iVoiu 
 silcli :> jury ! and then hv Mir. tliat Christ will pioiionuce, " Will done, thou good 
 »ad faltlifiil st■l•^ant, enter thou iulo ;he joy of thy Lord." Matt. XXT. 21. 
 
 JTt 
 
CHRISTIAN'S SONG. 167 
 
 Now I saw that there stood behind the multitude a 
 ehuriot and a couple of hordes waiting lor Faiihlui, who, 
 so soon as his adversants hao despatched him, was tak.n 
 up into it, and straightway was carried up through the 
 clouds with s(;ui;d.oi trun^pet, the nearest way to the 
 Celestial gate. But as ior Christian, he had some respite, 
 and was reminded back to prison ; so he there remained 
 for a space : but He that overrules all things, having the 
 power of their nige in his own hand, so brought it about, 
 that Chnsti.n for that time escaped them, and went his 
 
 way. 
 
 And as he went he sang : saymg, 
 
 « Well, FaiUilul, thou hast faithfully profest 
 Unto th> L«»rd, ol wlum thou sualt be biest: 
 W ueii faithless ones, with all their vaui d< lights, 
 Ae ci> iiig out under tneir hellish plighis : 
 Sini: Faitliiil, siii^, and let thy nanit^ suivive; ^^ 
 For though they kill'd ihe«, ihou ait yet alive*" 
 
168 CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL MEET BY-ENDS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 CHRISTIAN MEETS WITH ANOTHER EXCELLENT COMPANION 
 IN HOPKFUL — m\L()GUES BETWEEN THEM, BY-ENDS, MO- 
 NEY-LOVE, AND DEMAS. 
 
 ^ ow I saw in my drenm thnt Christian went not forth 
 alone ; for there was one whose name was Hopeful, (be- 
 ing so made by the beholding of Christian and Failhiul, 
 in their words and behaviour in their sufferings at the 
 fair,) who joined himself unto him ; and, entering into 
 a brotherly co^'enant, 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 compan- 
 ion with Christian in his pilgrimage.* This Hopeful al- 
 so told Christian, diat there were many more ot the men 
 in the fair, that would take their time and follow after. 
 
 So I saw that quickly after they \vere got out of the 
 fair, they overtook one that was going before them, whose 
 name was By-ends : so the}- said to him, VV hat country- 
 man, Sir ? and how far go you this wa}- ? He told them 
 that he came Irom the town oi Fair-speech, and he was 
 going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name. 
 
 From Fair-speech ! said Christian : is tlicre any good 
 that lives there ?{a) 
 
 Yes, said B} -ends, I hope. 
 
 PiMy, Sir, what may I call you ? said Christian. 
 
 By-e. I am a stranger to you, and }ou to me : if you 
 be going this way, I shall be glad of \our company : if 
 not, I must be content. 
 
 • I h;»ve often recorded it with thankrulness, (observes the Rev. Mr Mason,) 
 lliat tlifnif^h ill ihf drcnry day of my pilffrimape, tlie Lord Ii:ith taken awav a dear 
 and t':iitht°Ml Chi'isiinn iViciidi yet he lias always raised up another. A very grcai 
 blessing this, fur wiiicli Christians can never be thankful enough. 
 
 (a) Pror. xxvi. 23. 
 
CHRISTIAISI INQUIRES INTO HIS PRINCIPLES. 169 
 
 TLis town of Fair- speech, said Christian, I have 
 heard of, and as I remeniber, they say it is a \\'cahhy 
 place. 
 
 By-e. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have 
 very many rich kindred there. 
 
 Chr. Pray who are your kindred there, if a man may 
 be so bold ? 
 
 By-e. 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 water- 
 man, looking one way and rowing another, and I got 
 most of my estate by the same occupation. 
 
 Chr. Are you a married man ? 
 
 By-e. 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 hon- 
 ourable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breed- 
 ing, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince 
 and peasant. It is true we somev^hat difter 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 ap- 
 plaud him.* 
 
 Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow 
 Hopeful, saying. It runs in my mind, that this is one 
 
 * Is not this too much the case -with professors of this day ? The Spirit of truth 
 says, "AIlwlio live godly in Clirist Jesus, shall suffer persecution." 'J Tim. iii. 2. 
 But how many act as if they had found tlie art of mak'uig the Spirit of truth :t 
 liar ? for they can so trim and shape their conduct, as they vainly think, to follow 
 Christ, and yet to keep in with the world which is at enmity against Iiin\. A most 
 fatal, soul-Ueccinng error ! 
 
170 THEY DISAGREE ABOUT RELIGION. 
 
 By-ends, of Fair-speech ; and if it be he, we ha re 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 some- 
 thing more than all the world doth ; and, if I tJike not 
 my mcirk amiss, I deem I ha\e half a guess of you : is 
 not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ? 
 
 By-e. This is not mv name ; but indeed it is a nick- 
 name that is given me, by some that cannot abide me, 
 and I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other 
 good men have borne their's before me. 
 
 Chr. But did you never give an occasion to men to 
 call you by this name ? 
 
 By-e. 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 
 ^vay 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 ^vith reproach.* 
 
 Chr. I thought indeed that )ou 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-e. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help 
 it : you will find me a fair company-keeper, if you ^v•ilI 
 still admit me 3'our associate. 
 
 Chr. If you will go with us, you must go against 
 wind and tide ; the which, 1 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 \vheii 
 bound in irons, as well as when he \\alketh tlie streets 
 with applause. 
 
 • Uow artful, linw- delusive, arc tlic reasonings of such men. O beware of tliis 
 spirit. In upitositiou to tliis, watch and pray carucstly, tliat }C may not be double- 
 minded, but biuccMc until tire d.iy of Christ. 
 
CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL WITHDRAW FROM HIM. 171 
 
 By-e. You must not impose, nor lord it over my 
 faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. 
 
 Chr. Not a step farther, unless you will do in what I 
 propound as we. 
 
 Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old prin- 
 ciples, 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.* 
 
 Then 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 were 
 taught by one Mr. Gripeman, a schoolmaster in Love- 
 gain, which is a market-town in the county of Coveting, 
 in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art 
 of getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattery, lying, 
 or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gen- 
 tlemen had attained much of the art of their master, so 
 that they could each of tiiem 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 up- 
 on the road before us ? for Cliristian and Hopeful were 
 yet within view. 
 
 By-e. They are a couple of far countrymen, that after 
 their mode are going on pilgrimage. 
 
 • Mind how warily these pilgrims slcted towards this deceitful professor. They 
 did not too rashly take up an ill opinion against him; but when they had full proof 
 of what he was, they did not hesitate one moment, but dealt faithfully with him, 
 and conscientious!)' withdrew from him. Love should always move slowly in re- 
 ceiving a report, but ever deal faithfully when it is plain the men are not Avhat they 
 profess tij be. 
 
1 72 DISCOURSE WITH BY-ENDS AnOUT THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 Money. Alas I why did tlicy not stay, that we might 
 have had their j^ood company ? for the\', and avc, and 
 you, Sir, I hope, are going on pilgrimage. 
 
 By-e. \Vc arc so indeed : but the men before us are 
 so I'igid, and love so nuich their own notions, and do also 
 so lightly esteem the opinion of others, that let a man be 
 never so godly, }et if he jumps not with them in all 
 things, they thrust him quite out of their company. 
 
 Save. That's bad : but we read of some that are 
 righteous over-much, and such men's rigidness prevails 
 Avith them to judge and condemn all but themselves ; but 
 I pray, what and how nviny were the things wherein you 
 differed ? 
 
 By-e. Why they, after tlieir headstrong manner, con- 
 clude, that it is their duty to rush on their journey all 
 weathers ; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They 
 are for hazarding all for God at a clap, and I am for 
 taking all advantages to secure my life and estate. They 
 are for holding their notions, though iill other men be 
 against them ; but I am for religion in what, and so fai", 
 as the times and my safety will bear it. They are for re- 
 ligion when in rags and contempt ; but I am for him 
 when he walks in his golden slippers, in tlie sun-shine, 
 and with applause.* 
 
 Hold. Ay, and hold you there still, good Mr. By- 
 ends : for my part, 1 can count him but a fool, that hav- 
 ing 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 Avinter, and bestir^ her only when she 
 can have profit with plcasuije: God sends sometimes 
 rain and sometimes sun-shine : if they be such fools to 
 iro throuirh the hrst, vet let,us be content to take fair 
 
 • Notwitlistanding Ry-cntls could 1)0 rescrv^l au«l ii|)nii liis giianl with fnitlifiil 
 pilgrims. Tit lir cmii spi-itk out bo!<liy to tliosc'^iBMl^s own spirit ami cliaractir. O 
 the tnachcry of tlie desperate witkeil heart ! WnO>cau know it ! No one, but tJK^ 
 hcarl-scarcliing Cod. .^ ■' 
 
BY-ENDS PROPOSES A QITESTIOX. 1(3 
 
 weather along with us. For my part, I like thut reli^ 
 gioii best, tiiat will stand with the security of God's 
 good blessings unto us : for Avho can imagine, that is 
 ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed upon us 
 the good things of this life, but that he would have us 
 keep them for his sake ? Abraham and Solomon grew 
 rich in religion. And Job says that a good man " shall 
 lay up gold as dust." But he must not be such as the 
 men before us, if they be as you have described them. 
 
 Save. I think that wc are all agreed in this matter, 
 and therefore there needs no more words about it. 
 
 Money. No, there needs no more words about this 
 matter indeed ; for he that believes neither scripture 
 nor reason, (and you see we have both on our side,) 
 neither knows his own liberty, nor seeks his own 
 safety. 
 
 By-e. 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 ques- 
 tion : 
 
 Suppose a man, a minister or a tradesman, c^c. 
 should have an advantage lie before him to get the 
 good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no 
 means come by them, except in appearance at least, he 
 becomes extraordinary zealous in some points of reli- 
 gion that he meddled not with before, — may he not 
 use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right honest 
 man ? 
 
 Money. I see the .vbottom of your question ; and, 
 with these gentienieJi's good leave, I ^vill endeavour to 
 shape you an answer. And first, to speak to your 
 question, as it concerns a minister himself. Suppose 
 a minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a very 
 small benefice/ ;aftd l^as in his eye a greater, more fat 
 and plump by fart 'he has also now an opportunity of 
 getting it, yet so as, by. being more studious, by preach- 
 ing more frequendy and zealously, and because the 
 temper of the people requires it, by altering of some of 
 
174 MONEY-LOVE'S ANSWER. 
 
 his principles : for my part, I see no reason but a man 
 mav do this, provided he has a call, ay, and more a great 
 deal besides, and }'et 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, &c. and so 
 makes him a better man, yea, makes him better improve 
 his parts, which is according to the mind of God. 
 
 3. Now, as for the complying with the temper of 
 his people by deserting, to serve them, some of his 
 principles, this argueth that he is of a self-denying tem- 
 per, of a sweet and winning deportment ; and so more fit 
 for the ministerial function. 
 
 4. I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a 
 small for a great should not, for so doing, be judged 
 as covetous ; but rather, since he is improved in his 
 parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that pur- 
 sues 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 ^vorld ; but 
 |jy becoming religious he may mend his market, per- 
 haps get a rich \\'ife, or more and f-ir 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 cus- 
 tom to my shop. 
 
 .3. Besides, the man that gets these by becoming re- 
 ligious, gets that wliich is good, of them that are good, 
 by becoming good himself; so then here is a good 
 Avife, and good customers, and good gain, and all these 
 by bcQoming religious, ^vhich is good : therefore, to 
 
THEY PROPOSE THE QUESTION TO THE PH^CPvIMS. 173 
 
 become religious to get all these is a good and profitable 
 design.* 
 
 This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money-love to 
 Mr. By-ends's 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 be- 
 cause Christian and Hopeful were yet within call, they 
 jointly agreed to assault them with this 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 between Mr. By-ends and them at 
 their parting a little before. 
 
 So they came up to each other, and after a short salu- 
 tation, Mr. Hold-the-world propounded the question to 
 Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if 
 they could. 
 
 Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may an- 
 swer ten thousand such questions. For if it be unlawful 
 to follow Christ for loaves, as it is, John, vi. how much 
 more is it abominable to make of him and religion a stalk- 
 ing horse, to get and enjoy the world ? Nor do we find 
 any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and witchesy^ 
 tliat are of this opinion. 
 
 Heathens : for when Hamor and Shechem had a 
 mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that 
 
 * Here is worWly wisdom, infernal logic, and tlie sophistry of Satan. We hear 
 this language daily from money-loTing professors, who me destitute of the power 
 of faith, and the reasoning of godliness. But in opposition to all this, the Holy 
 Ghost testifies, " the love of money is the root of fili evil." 1 Tim. vi. 10. and a 
 covetous man is an idolater. C'^l. iii. 5. Hear this aud trerohle, ye avaricious pro- 
 fessors. Remember, ye followers of the Lamb, ye are called to let vour conver- 
 sation he without covetf.usness. Heb. xiii. 5, Your Lord testifies, ve cannot serve 
 God and niaramon. Luke xyI. 13= 
 
176 CHRISTIAN ANSWERS IT SCRIPTURALLY. 
 
 llierc were no ways for them to come at them, but by- 
 becoming circumcised ; the\^ say to their companions, 
 *' If every male of us Ijc circumcised, as they are cir- 
 cumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substunce, 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 theai. Read the whole story, Genesis xxiv. 
 22—24. 
 
 The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion : 
 long pra\'ers were their pretence : but to get widows' 
 houses ^\'as their intent, and greater damnation was from 
 God their judgment,(c) 
 
 Judas the devil was also of this religion : he Avas reli- 
 gious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was 
 therein ; but he \\as lost, a cast-away, and the very son 
 of perdition. 
 
 Simon the witch was of this religion too ; for he would 
 Iiave had the Holy Ghost, that he might have got money 
 therewith ; and his sentence from Peter's mouth was ac- 
 cordingly. (/^) 
 
 Neither will it go out of my mind, but that that man, 
 that takes up religion for the world, will throw away re- 
 ligion for the Avorld ; 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 affirmativel}', as 1 percei\'e you 
 have done, and to accept of, as authentic, such answer, 
 is both heathenish, hypocritical, and devilish ; and your 
 reward will be according to your works. — Then they 
 stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith 
 to answer Christian. Hopeful also approved of the 
 soundness of Christian's answer ; so there was a great 
 silence among them. Mr. Ey-ends and his company 
 also staggered and kept beliind, that Christian and 
 Hopeful might outgo them. Then said Christian to his 
 
 («) L'lke xx. 40, 4". {!,) Acts >iii. 18—23. 
 
THE HILL LUCRE} A SILVER MINE; AND DEMAS. 177 
 
 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 lire ?* 
 
 Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and 
 went till they came to 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 further 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. 
 
 Chr. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of 
 the way to see it ? 
 
 Demas. Here is a silver mine, and some digging in it 
 for treasure ; if you will come, with a little pains you 
 may richly provide for yourselves. 
 
 Then said Hopeful, Let us go. 
 
 Not I, said Christian ; I have heard of this place be- 
 fore now, and how many have been slain there ; and 
 
 * Here see the blessedness of being mightv in the scripture, and the need of 
 that exhortation, " Let tlie word of Christ dwell in you richly." Col. iii 16. For 
 the word of God is quick and powerful, and sharper than a two-edged sword, it 
 pierces through all the subtle devices of Satan, and the cunning crifliness of carnal 
 professors, and divideth asunder the carnal reasonings of tlie flesh, and the snirit- 
 Bal wisdom which cometh from above. 
 
 23 
 
173 DEMAS TRIES TO ENSNARE THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 besides, that treasure is a snare to those that seek it ; foi 
 ithindereth them in their pilgrimage.* 
 
 Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the 
 place dangerous ? hath it not hindered man\ in their pil- 
 grimage ? 
 
 Demas. Not very dangerous, except to those that are 
 careless. — But withal he blushed as he spake. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, 
 but still keep on our way. 
 
 Hope. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, 
 if he hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither 
 to see. 
 
 Ckr. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him 
 that way, and a hundred to one but he dies there. 
 
 Then Demas called again, saying, but will you not 
 come over and see ? 
 
 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 ;(a) and 
 why seekest thou to bring us into the like condemna- 
 tion ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the 
 King will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us 
 to shame, where we should stand with boldness before 
 him. 
 
 Demas cried again, that he also was one of their fra- 
 ternity ; and that if they would tarry a little, he also him- 
 self would walk with them. 
 
 Then said Christian, What is thy name ? Is it not the 
 saiiiC by the which I have called thee ? 
 
 Demas. Yes, my name is Demas ; I am the son of 
 Abraham. 
 
 • Si-c the valiif of a faithful friend. But how few act so faithfully ? How few 
 prnffssors wi!l i)ear it ? What! hold a niaii hack from gcttins; iiioiity ? O how lew 
 arf aware tliat covi-lousnoss is idolatr-y .' and attend to our Loixi's double caution, 
 " lake heed, and hewaie of covetoiisness." Luke xu. 13. 
 
 (rt) 2 Tim. iv, 10. 
 
THE MONUMENT; OR LOT'S WIFE. 179 
 
 Chr. I know you ; Gehazi was your great gTandf^i- 
 iher, and Judas your father, and you have trod in their 
 steps ; it is but a deviUsh prank that thou usest : thy fa- 
 ther was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better 
 reward.(«) Assure thyself, that when we come to the 
 King, we will tell him of this thy behaviour. Thus 
 they went their way. 
 
 Bv 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 
 never were seen again in the way.* — Then sang Chris- 
 tian : 
 
 " By-eods and silver Demas did agree ; 
 Oue calls, the other runs, that he may be 
 A sharer in his lucre; so these do 
 Take up in this world, and do further go." 
 
 Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, 
 the pilgrims came to a place where stood an old monu- 
 ment, 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 spied written 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 
 
 * Here you see the end of double-minded men, who vainly attempt to unite the 
 love of money with the love of Christ. They go on with their art for a season, 
 but the end makes it manifest what they were. T.ike David's advice, " Fret not 
 thyself because of evil doers." Psalm xxxvii. I. " Be not thou afraid when oie is 
 made rich, and the glory of his house is increased." Psal. xlix. 16. But go thou 
 into the sanctuary of thy God, read his word, and understand the end of these men. 
 
 (a) 3 Kings v. 2®*— 37. Matt, xxvi, 14, 15. xxvii. 3—57 
 
180 THE PILGIMMS DlSCOURSi: ABOUT HER. 
 
 after a little la} ing of the letters toj^cthcr, he found the 
 same to be this, " Remember Lot's wife," So he 
 read it to his fello^v ; after \v hich they both concluded, 
 that this was the pillar of salt into which Lot's wife was 
 turned, for looking l^iick with a covetous heart, when 
 she was going from Sodom for safety. (a) Which sud- 
 den and amazing sight gave them occasion of this dis- 
 course. 
 
 Chr. Ah, my brother, this is a seasonable sight : it 
 came opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas 
 gave us to come over to view the hill Lucre ; and had 
 we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast inclined 
 to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made 
 like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come af- 
 ter to behold. 
 
 Hope. 1 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 diat ever such a thing 
 should be in mine heart.* 
 
 Cpir. Let us take notice of what we see here for our 
 help for time to come : This woman escaped one judg- 
 ment ; for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom, yet 
 she was destroyed by another, as we see, she is turned 
 into a pillar of salt. 
 
 Hope. True, and she may be to us both caution 
 and example ; caution, that we should shun her sin ; 
 or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall 
 not be prevented b}- such caution : so Korah, Dathan, 
 and Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men that 
 perished in their sin, did also become a sign or exam- 
 
 • Such is the effect of the grace of Go<l in the heart of a pilgrim > while on the 
 erne hand he sees many projiensilies of his evil nature to every sin whicli has hi-cn 
 con-.mitted liy otjiers, and is grieved, he also confesses, tliat by no power of his 
 own he is preserved, hut ever gives all the glory to ilif (Jod of all grace, by whose 
 iiow <i aloni- lit- is kept from falling. " Thou standcst by faitli, be uot liigl»-niiiide<l 
 hui fcai." Koru. xi. '20. 
 
 (a) Geiu xix. 26. 
 
FURTHER DISCOURSE ABOUT LOT'S WIPE. 181 
 
 pie to beware.(fl') But above all, I muse at one thing, 
 to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confident- 
 ly }'onder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but 
 for looking behind her after, (for we read not that she 
 stept one foot out of the way,) was turned into a pillar of 
 salt ; especially since the judgment which overtook her, 
 did make her an example within sight of where they are : 
 for they cannot but choose to see her, did they but lift up 
 their eyes. 
 
 Chr. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth 
 that their hearts are grown desperate in that case ; and I 
 cannot tell whom 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," be- 
 cause tliey were sinners " before the Lord," that is, in 
 his eye-sight, and notwithstanding the kindness that he 
 had showed them ; for the land of Sodom was now like 
 the garden of Eden heretofore. (^) This therefore pro- 
 voked 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, who shall sin in the sight, yea, and 
 that too in despite, of such examples as are set continu- 
 ally before them, to caution them to the contrary, must 
 be partakers of the severest judgment. 
 
 Hope. Doubtless thou hast said the truth ; but what 
 a mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not 
 made myself this example ! This ministereth occasion to 
 us to thank God, to I'ear before him, and always to " re- 
 member Lot's wife." 
 
 (a.) Numb. xxvi. 9, 10. (f>) Gen. xiii. 10 — 13. 
 
182 THE RIVER OP THE WATER OP LIFE. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 CHRISTIAN ANIJ HOPEFUL MISTAKE THEIR WAY, AXD FALL 
 INTO THE HANDS OF GIANT DESPAIR. 
 
 I SAW then, that they went on their way to a plea- 
 sant river, which David the king called " the river of 
 God ;" but John, «' the river of the water of life."*(a) 
 No'.v their \vay lay just upon the bank of the ri\cr : here 
 therefore Christian and his comjDanion walked with great 
 delight : they drank also of the water of the river, which 
 was pleasant, and enlivening to their weary spirits. Be- 
 sides, on the banks of this river, on either side, were 
 green trees, for 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 travels. On cither side 
 of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with 
 lilies ; and it was green all the year long. In this mea- 
 dow they lay do^vn and slept : for here they might lie 
 down safely. (i6) When the} awoke, they gathered again 
 of the fruits of the trees, and drank again of the water of 
 
 • Bv tliis river, which is called " a pure river of watei- of life, clear as crvstal, 
 proceeding out of the throne of rio<I and the Tjamh," Rev. xxii 1. we may (in- 
 derstand, the cleur and comfortahlc views with which thev were favoured of (iod's 
 love and {jrace This rivc-r of God, this w:iter of life, was clear as crystal : They 
 could see in it God's i^Iory shiiiinj; in the face of .Jesus Christ, and view their own 
 faces ill it to tiieir inexjjressihle jqj-. This is the river, " the streams whereof 
 make glad the city of God." Psal. xhi. 4. The streams which flow from this 
 river of love, are justificiUon hy filth in Christ, saiictification, and all joy and 
 |)cace in helieving. from the Spirit of (;hrist. All this these pilgrims now enjoyeil, 
 and ail this ever\ fellow-citiiiii of the. saints arc called to enjoy, in their pilsjrim- 
 :ij;e to Zion Tiiis river of lifft proccedeth out of the throne of God and the 
 Lainl). For God hath chosen those ;wlio have fled for refuge) in Christ, and 
 blessed us with all spiritual hlcssiiigs in him ; and they are all freely communi- 
 raled to us out of Christ's fulness. O how happy, peaceful, and joyful are pil- 
 jrrims, when the Spirit takes «^f the things of Christ, shows ihem to us, anil 
 liles.Hcs us with a constant sense of, and interest in the love of (iod, and salvation 
 of Jesus! 
 
 {a) Vs. I.VV. 9. Ezek. xlvll. 1. Rev. xxii. 1. C^) ^s. xxiii, Isa. xiv. 30. 
 
ROUGH ROAD. BY-PATH-MEADOW. 18l 
 
 the river, and then lay down again to sleep. Thus they 
 did several days and nights. Then they sang : 
 
 " Behold ye bow those crystal streams do glide, 
 To comfort pilgrims by the highway side. 
 The meadows green, besides the fragraut smell, 
 Yield dainties for them : And he that can tell 
 "What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves these trees do yield, 
 Will sooD 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. (a) 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-mea- 
 dow.t Then said Christian to his fellow. If this mea- 
 dow lieth along by our way-side let us go over into it. 
 Then he went to the stile to see, and, behold, a path 
 lay along by the way on the other side of the fence. 
 'Tis according to my wish, said Christian ; here is 
 
 * Pilgi'iras have their discoaragements as well as their joys : yet they should 
 take their way as they find it, sometimes rough, at others smooth ; they may at 
 times be sorry to part with their comforts, and wish tlic way was smoother : so 
 they did here. Lo, their wishes were answered ; but murk the consequences. 
 Lord lead me in the way everlasting ! 
 
 t Beware of this by-patli-meadow, it is on the left hand. Oh how many are 
 walking securely, confidently, and comfortably in it, while every step they take 
 endangers their destruction nie transition into it is e;isy, for it lies ciosoUi the 
 right way, only you must get over a stile ; that is, yon must quit (.Christ's ,jrotCf- 
 tion, trust ia j our own wisdom, and then you are in by-p;Uh-meadow directly. 
 
 (ff) Nirmb. xxf. 4. 
 
184 VAIN-CONFIDENCE'S FALL; 
 
 the easiest going ; come, good Hopeful, and let us gd 
 over.* 
 
 Hope. But how if this path should lead us out of the 
 Avay ? 
 
 That's not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not 
 go along by the way-side ? — So Hopeful, being per- 
 suaded 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, thty 
 looking before them, spied a man walking as they did, 
 and his name was Vain-confidence : so they called after 
 him, and asked him ^v'hither that way led ? He said, to 
 the Celestial gate. Look, said Christian, did not I tell 
 you so ? b}' this you may see we are right : so they fol- 
 lowed, and he went before them. But, behold, die 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,(fl!) \Vhich 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.f 
 
 Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall : so 
 they called to know the matter ; but there was none to 
 ansAver, only they heard a groaning. Then said Hope- 
 ful, Where arc we now ? Then ^vas his fellow silent, 
 
 " All ! liow easy are our eyes ileceived, our hearts mistaken, and our feet per- 
 verted from (he right way I Shepherd of Israel, thou kiiowist to err is Im- 
 maii ; keep nsfrom erring, guide us continually, and when we do stray. Lord rc- 
 eluiiii us. 
 
 •f " There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end thereof are the 
 ways of death." I'rov. xiv. I'i. Viiin confidence is this very way. O how easy do 
 profi .ssors get into it ; yea, pilgrims are prone also to take up with it, owing to 
 thai li'gality, j)ride and self-i'ighteousiiess, which work in their fallen nature, till 
 cleansed hy the blood of Jesus. See the end of it and tremble. For it le.ids to 
 darkness ami ends in death. Lord humble our proud hearts, and empty us ol sclf- 
 righlcousticss, pride and vaiu-confideuce. 
 
 (a) Isa. \k. Itt. 
 
CHRISTIAN REPENTS OF HAVITSIG MISLED HOPEFUL. 185 
 
 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 waters rose amain.* 
 
 Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, " Oh that 
 I had kept on my way !" 
 
 Chr. Who could have thought that this path should 
 have led us out of the way ? 
 
 Hope. I was afraid on't at the very first, and therefore 
 gave you that gentle caution, I would have spoke plain- 
 er, but you are older than I. 
 
 Chr. Good brother, be not offended ; I am sorry I 
 have brought thee out of the way, and that 1 have put 
 thee into such imminent danger : pray, my brother, for- 
 give me ; I did not do it of an evil intent. f 
 
 Hope. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee ; 
 and believe too, that this shall be for good. 
 
 Chr. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother : 
 but we must not stand thus ; let us try to go back 
 again. 
 
 Hope. But, good brother, let me go before. 
 
 Chr. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there 
 be any danger I may be first therein ; because by my 
 means we are both gone out of the way. 
 
 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 towards the 
 highway ; even the way that thou ^ventest turn 
 again. ":j:(a) But by this time the waters were greatly 
 risen, by reason of \vhich, the way of going back was 
 
 * Getting into by-patli-meadow, and walking in vain confidence, will surely bring 
 on terrors, thunderings and lightnings from mount Sinai. 
 
 f Here see, that as Christians are made helpful, so also they are liable to provtj 
 hurtful to each other. But observe how grace works ! it humbles, it makes the 
 soul confess and be sorry for its misfortunes; here is no reviling one another, but 
 a tender sympathy and feeling concern for each other. O the mighty power of 
 that gVMce and trutli whicli came by Jesus Christ! how does it cement souls in the 
 fellow sliip of love ! 
 
 i This is Christ : he is tlie way, the only way, the highway of justification atfd 
 holiness. 
 
 ^a) Jer. xxxi. 2t. 
 
186 GIANT DESPAIR; DOUBTING CASTLE: 
 
 very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going" 
 out of the way when wc are in, than going in when we 
 are out.) Yet tliey adventured to go back ; but it was 
 so d::rk, and the flood was so high, that in their going 
 back they had Uke to have been dro\\ned, nine or ten 
 times. 
 
 Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get 
 again to the stile that night. Wherefore at last, light- 
 ing under a little shelter, they sat down there, till the 
 d.^y- break : but being weary, they fell asleep. Now 
 there was, not far from the place where they la}-, a cas- 
 tle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof, was 
 Giant Despair :* and it was in his grounds they were 
 now sleeping. Wherefore he getting up in the morn- 
 ing early, and walking up and down in his fields, 
 caught Christian and Hopeful asleep in his grounds. 
 Then with a grim and singly voice, he bid them a\vake, 
 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 tramp- 
 ling in, and lying on my ground, and therefore you 
 must go along with nie. So they were forced to go, 
 because he was stronger than they. They also had 
 but little to say ; for tliey knew themselves in a fault. 
 The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put 
 them into his castle in a very dark dungeon, nasty and 
 stinking to the spirits of these two men. Here then 
 they lay, from Wednesda}- 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 acquaint- 
 ance. (a) Now in this place Christian had double sor- 
 
 • Sooner or hitcr Doubting Custle will be tlie prison, and Giant Despair the 
 kwiH-r of all lliosir \»bo turr. hsiib- iVoin Clirist, to trust in Hnv wist- in ibjiiistlves. 
 " (irxj is ;i jiiilous God ;" e>er jealous of bis own glorv, and of ibc houour ol his 
 beloved Son. 
 
 (a) Psul, iKXXviii. S. 
 
THEIR SUFFERINGS IN THE DUNGEON. 187 
 
 ■row, because it was through his unadvised counsel that 
 they were brought into this distress.* 
 
 Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Dif- 
 fidence : 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 tresy.ass- 
 ing on his grounds. Then he asked her also, what he 
 had best do further to them. So she asked what they 
 were, whence they came, and whither they were boinid — 
 and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he 
 arose in the morning, lie should beat them without mer- 
 cy. So when he arose, he getteth 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, al- 
 though they gave him never a word of distaste : then he 
 falls upon them, and beat them fearfully, in such sort, 
 that they were not able to help themselves, or 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 their time in 
 nothing but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next 
 night she talked with her husband about them further, 
 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 life, seeing it is at- 
 tended with so much bitterness ? But they desired him 
 
 * What' so highly favoured Cliristians in Douhting Castle ? Is it possible, after 
 having travelled so far in the way of Salvation, seen so many glorious tliiii!;s in that 
 way, experienced so much of the grace and love of lliejr Lord, ami having S9 
 often proved liis faithfulness, yet after all this to get into Doubting Castle. Surclj 
 it is not the will of God, but the effects of unbelief. 
 
188 CHRISTIAN TEMPTED TO SELF-MURDER: 
 
 to let them go. With tliat he looked ugly ui)oii them, 
 and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them 
 himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, (for he 
 sometimes in sun-shiny weather fell into fits,) and lost 
 for a time the use of his hand. Wherefore he witiidretv', 
 and left them as before to consider what to do. Then 
 did the prisoners consult between themselves, ^\■hether 
 it was best to take his counsel or no ; and thus they be- 
 gan to discourse :* 
 
 Brother, said Christian, what shall we do ? The life 
 that we no^v live is miserable ! for my part,, 1 know not 
 ivhcther it is best to live thus, or die out of hand ; " my 
 soul chooseth strangling rather than life, "(a) and the 
 grave is more easy for me than this dungeon ! Shall we 
 be ruled by the giant ?t 
 
 Hope. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and 
 death would be fiir 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 per- 
 .sor. ; much more then are we forbidden to take the 
 giant's 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 mur- 
 
 " Spi'^ tlie working of despair. Wlicrc is now their faith in, love to, and de- 
 pendence upon their Lord ' Alas! all sceniB as at the last gasp, Bnt observe, un- 
 fler tli'-'ii- prevailini;; distress and Mick tlospondeiicy, even when despair had 
 fllrn.isr made an end of them, they had a lucid interral when Giant Despair is seiz- 
 f{\ ttitli a fit, so that 'ifMrs mercy is great: for says Paul, " we are perplcxcti, 
 but not in despair." 2 Cor. iv. 1. 
 
 ■j- Poor fJliristian ! what! tempted to destroy thyself! Lord, what is man! 
 JJui mark the truth of that word, " There haih no lomiilation taken you, but 
 sueh as is common to man :" but (iod is faithful, who will not suffei' you to be 
 tempted above tliat ye are able ; but will, with the temptatioD also ni.ikc a way to 
 escape, that we may be able to bear it. 1 Cor. x. 13. 
 
 («) Job vii. 15, 
 
HOPEFUL WARNS AND ENCOURAGES HIM. 189 
 
 derer hath eternal life," &:c. 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 kngws, 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 be- 
 fore us, and may lose the use of his limbs ? and if ever 
 that should come to pass again, for my part, I am re- 
 solved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my 
 utmost to get from under hi^ 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 tlie 
 dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his coun- 
 sel : 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 griev- 
 ous rage, and told them that, seeing they had disobeyed 
 his counsel, it should be worse with them than if the\' 
 had never been born. 
 
 At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Chris- 
 tian 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. 
 
 • Perceive how a fit of despair robs a Christian of his courage, reason, anti 
 graces. But one single thouglit of the love, power, and grace of a God in Christ, 
 elevates the Christian's mind with hope. 
 
190 TIIE COUNSEL OF GIANT DESPAIR'S WIFE. 
 
 Now Christian aj^ain seemed to he for doing it, but 
 Hopeful made his second reply as followeth : 
 
 My brother, said he, remcmberest thou not how 
 valiant thou hast been iieretofore V A]-)ollvon could not 
 cmsh thee, nor could all that thou couldst hear, or sec, 
 or feel, in the valley of the Shadow of Death ; what 
 Jiardship, terror, and amazement, hast thou already 
 ijronc through, and art thou now nothing but fears'? 
 Thou scest that I am in tlic dungeon \vith thee, a far 
 >\eakcr man by nature than thou art ; also the giant 
 lias wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut oft' 
 the bread and water irom my mouth, and ^\ith that I 
 mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little 
 more patience : remcmlDcr how thou playcdst the man 
 at Vanity fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain 
 or cage, nor }et of bloody death ; A\herefore, let us, at 
 least, to avoid the shame that becomes not a Christian 
 to be found in, bear up with patience, as well as wc 
 can.* 
 
 Now night being come again, and the giant and his 
 wife being in bed, she asked him concerning the prison- 
 ers, and if they had taken his counsel : — to \\hich 
 he replied. They are sturdy rogues ; they choose ra- 
 ther to bear [ill hardship than to make away with them- 
 selves. Then said she, Take them into the castle- 
 yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and sculls 
 of those thou hast already despatched, and make them 
 
 • Here is the bli'ssiiit; of a lini)cfiil companion. Ilore is cxcrllcnt counsel. IjCt 
 vain professors say what they mav a^^aiiist experioncc and looking back to past ex- 
 periences : It is most certainly good and riglit so to do; not to t^ncourafje, 
 present sloth and prcsnmjilion, hut to excite fresli confuh'ncc nf hope in 
 I he Lord We have David's examph', and Paul's word to encourage us to tliis; 
 .says David — " 'I'lie Lord who deliveretl me out of the paw of the lion, and out of 
 tlje paw of tlie hear, he will <leliver me (ml of the; hand of the uncircumcised 
 Pliilistine." 1 Sam. x^vii. M. Au<l says I'aul, W.- have the sentence of death in 
 ourselves, llial we should not trust in ourselves, hut in God whoraiselh the dead. — 
 There mind the alone ohjecl of faith and hope, and see Ihe reasoninj; on past expe- 
 riences of CicMl's meity ; for it is he — " wiio delivers us from so <;reat a deatb : aud 
 dolh dclivci-, in whom we trust tliat he will ret ticliver us." 2 Cor. i. 10. 
 
THE PILGRIMS HATE RECOURSE TO PRAYER. 191 
 
 believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear 
 thf;m 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 them : These, said 
 he, were pilgrims as you are, once ; and they trespass- 
 ed in my grounds, as you have done ; and when I 
 thought fit I'tore them in pieces, and so within ten days 
 I will do you ; get you down into 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 were got to 
 bed, they began to renew their discourse of their pris- 
 oners ; and, withal, the old giant Avondered, 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 say est thou so, my 
 dear ? said the giant ; 1 will therefore search them in the 
 morning. 
 
 Well, on Saturday about midnight they began to pray, 
 and continued in prayer till almost break of day.* 
 
 Now a little before it was day, good Christian, as one 
 half amazed, brake out in this passionate speech : What 
 a fool, quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dun- 
 geon, when I may as well walk at liberty ? i have a 
 key in my bosom called Promise, that wiil, I am per- 
 suaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then said 
 
 * What ? Pray in custody of Giant Despair, in the inidst of Doubting Castle, 
 and when their own folly brought them there too ! Yes, mind tliis, ye Piisjriras, ye 
 are exhorted, "1 will tiiat men pray (!very where — without doubtiiig." 1 Tim.ii.'g. 
 We can be in no place, but God can bear, nor in any circumstance^ but God 13- 
 able to deliver from. And be assured, when the spirit of prayer coiiii-s, delivcranee 
 fe, nish at hand. So it was here. 
 
192 THE KEY PROMISE: THEIR ESCAPE. 
 
 Hopeful, that's good news, good brodier, pluck it out of 
 ihv bosom, and try.* 
 
 Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and be- 
 gan to try at the dungeon door : whose bolt, as he 
 turned the ke\', 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 \vith this key opened that door also. After, 
 he w ent to the iron gate, for that must be opened too, 
 bui that lock went very hard ; yet the key did open it. 
 Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape 
 \vith speed ; but that gate as it opened, made such a 
 cracking, that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising 
 to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fliil, 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 be- 
 gan to contrive with themselves what diey should do at 
 that stile, to prevent those that should come after from 
 falling into the hand of Giant Despair. So they con- 
 sented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave u]Don the 
 side thereof this sentence, " 0\er this stile is the way 
 to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, 
 Avho despiseth the king of the Celestial Country, and 
 seeks to destroy the holy pilgrims." Many therefore 
 
 • Procioiis promise ! The promises of God in Clirist, are (he life of faith, and 
 I'lic <niiekciicrs of prayer. O how oft do we neglect God's j^real and i)riciou» 
 promises in (Jlirist Jesus, while doubts and despair keep us prisoners I So it was 
 ■w ith these pili;rims : they were kejit under hard bondage of soul tor four days. 
 Hence see what it is to grieve the Spii'it of God, and dread it. For he only is the 
 Comforter. And if we cause him to withdraw liis influences* who or wliat can 
 eonifort us ? 'riiough |)rcciou» pron)ises are revi'aled in tiie woix], yet we can get 
 no comfort fi-()m them, but by the grate of the Spirit. 
 
 ■\ Mind, tliongh the Spii'it works deliverani-e and brings comfort, yet it is by 
 means of tin- word of Promise ; for as we depart ft om and dishonour tiwi by unbe- 
 lief so \\eoonie back to and honour hiiu, by bcli<-ving his word of grace to US 
 ihroujjh his beloved Son. In tliis way llic Spirit brings delivciaooc. 
 
DANGER ESCAPED BY MEANS OF THE PIl-LAR, 193 
 
 that followed after, read what was written, and escaped 
 the danger.* — This done they sang as follows : 
 
 " Out of the way we went, aud then we found 
 What 'twas to tread upon forbidden »jiound ; 
 And let them that, come after have a care 
 Lest they, for trespassiotf, his pris'ncrs are 
 Whose castle's Doubting, aud whose name's Despair." 
 
 • Recording our own observations, and the experience Ave have had of nod's 
 dealing with our souls, are made of special and peculiar use to our fellow Chris- 
 tians. But let us ever take heed of self exalting : ever remembering that all 
 Christian e.xperience is to humble the soul, and exalt the Saviour. As here these 
 two pilgrims, by their own folly, got into Doubling-Castle ; so it was by faith ia 
 the promise that they escaped from it. This pillai' was a memento to their shame, 
 •while it was a monument of God's free favour in Christ to them 
 
 Reader ! have you, tlirougli unbelief, been brought into doiibts ; and has the 
 Lord, in his great mercy, sent deliverance to your soul ? Keep then, yourtaithm 
 eoutinual exercise, while you take up the following lines : 
 
 Son of God, if thy free grace 
 
 Again hath rais'd rae up, 
 Call'd me still to seek thy face. 
 
 And given me back my hope : 
 Still thy timely help afford. 
 And all thy loving-kindness show ; 
 Keep me, keep me, gracious Lord, 
 
 And never let me go. 
 
 By me, O my Saviour, stand. 
 
 In sore temptation's hour. 
 Save me with thine out-stittch'd hand, 
 
 And shew forth all thy power; 
 O be mindful of thy word ; 
 Thy all-sufficient grace bestow. 
 
 Keep me, keep rae, gracious Lord, 
 
 And never let me go. 
 
 Give me. Lord, a holy fear. 
 
 And fix it in my heart; 
 That I may when doubts appear, 
 
 Wiih timely care depart; 
 Sin be more than hell abhorr'd. 
 Till thou destroy the tyrant foe ; 
 Keep me, keep me, gracious LoFd, 
 
 And never let me go. 
 
194 THE SHEPHERDS ENTERTAIN THE PILGRDISi 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS ENTERTAINED BY THE SHEPHERDS ON THfi 
 DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 They went then till they came to the Delectable Moun- 
 tains ; which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill, 
 of which we have spoken before : so they went up the 
 mountains, to behold the gardens and orchards, the vine- 
 yards, and fountains of water ; where also they drank 
 and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vine- 
 yards. 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 staves, (as is common with weary pil- 
 grims when they stand to talk w ith any by the way,) they 
 asked, " Whose Delectable Mountains are these ? and 
 whose be the sheep that feed upon them ?"* 
 
 She p. The mountains are Emmanuel's Land, and 
 they iire within sight of his city ; and the sheep also are 
 his, and he laid down his life for them. 
 
 Chr. Is this the way to the Celestial City ? 
 
 She p. You are just in the way. 
 
 Chr. How far is it thither ? 
 
 She p. Too far for any, but those that shall get thither 
 indeed, t 
 
 Chr. Is the way safe or dangerous ? 
 
 She p. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; " but 
 transgressors sliali fall therein. "(«) 
 
 * See the iqjs and downs, the sunshine and clouds, the prosperity und adversity, 
 which ('iiristians go liirongli in their way to the promised Land. Lately, these 
 two i>ilp;rinis were bewailing their state in Doubling (/aslle, under Giant Desj)air; 
 now tliey arc come to Di-lectable .Moi.iitains. where all is clear, perfect and joyful 
 ho\)e. So that fiod's wortl is now con)ffirtably fiilfdiod upon them , see Isa. \lix. 
 9, 10, 11. "1 will make all my niouutains a way, and my highways shall be e.x- 
 alted," &c. 
 
 j how many professors grow weary of the way, fall sliort and fail of coming 
 to the I'lid ! 'I'hou};}! the way apjiears loo fa*, too strait, and too narrow for ni:iny 
 who s.l o;it, and iK.-ver hold out to llie end ; yel, all who are begotten h\ tin- woixl 
 of grai;<., and born of the S|)irit of trull), being kept by the miglily power of (iod, 
 through un exercise of living failli, unto eternal salvation, shall succeed. 1 Pet, i, 5- 
 
 (o) Hos. xiv. 9. 
 
THEIR NAMES, AND DISCOURSE. 195 
 
 Chr. Is there in this place any rehef for pilgrims, that 
 are weary and fdnt in the way ? 
 
 She p. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a 
 charge " not to be forgetful to entertain strangers :"(«) 
 therefore the good .of the place is before you. 
 
 I also saw m my dream, that when the shepherds per- 
 ceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put ques- 
 tions 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 faces on this mountain. 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, more- 
 over. We would that you should stay here awhile to be 
 acquainted with us, and yet more to solace yourselves 
 with the good of these Delectable Mountains. They 
 then told them that they were content to stay : so they 
 went to their rest that night, because it y,vas very late. 
 
 Then 1 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 awhile, 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 an 
 hill, called Error, which was very steep on the furthest 
 side, and bid them look do^\'n to the bottom. So Chris- 
 
 • Precious names! what is a pilgrim without knowledge? what is liead-know- 
 ledge without heart-experience ? And watchfulness and sincerity ought attend us 
 <every step. When these graces are in us and abound, they make delectable 
 xooui^taias indeed. 
 
 (rt) Heb. Mii. 1, 2. 
 
196 MOUNTS F.RHOR AXD CAUTIOX; "WIIERE 
 
 tian aijd Hopeful looked dou n, and sa\v at the bottom 
 several men dashed all to ]:)ieces, by a fall that they had 
 from the top. Then said Christian, What meaneth this ? 
 The shepherds answered, Have you not he-.rd of them 
 that were made to err, by hearkening to H\ meneus and 
 Philetus,(fl) as concernins^ the faith of the resurreetion of 
 the body ? They answered, Yea. Then said the shep- 
 herds, Those that you see lie dashed in pieces at the bot- 
 tom of this mountain are they ; and they have continued 
 to this day unburied, as you see, for example to others to 
 take heed how they clamber too high, or how the}' come 
 too near the brink of this mountain.^ 
 
 Then I saw they had them to tiic top of another moun- 
 tain, and the name of that is Caution, and bid them 
 look afar off if which when they did, they perceived, 
 as they thought, several men walking up and down 
 among the tombs that were there : and they perceived 
 thai the men were blind, because they stumbled some- 
 times upon the tombs, and because they could not get 
 out from among them. Then said Christian, ^\'hat 
 me; lis this? 
 
 The shepherds then answered. Did } ou not sec a lit- 
 tle below these mountains, a stile that leads into a mea- 
 dow, on the left hand of this way ? They ans\\ercd, 
 Yes. Then said the shej)herds. From that stile there 
 goes a path, that leads directly to Doubting Castle, 
 ■which is kept by Giant Despair, and these men (point- 
 ing; to them among the tombs) came once on jjilgrim- 
 agc, as you do now, even till they came to that same 
 stile. And, because the right way was rough in diat 
 
 • Fine-spun speculations, and curious reasoninjjs, load men fi-oni simple trutlj 
 and implicit faith into many datigernns and destructive errors. The word rcconls 
 many instances of such for our caution. Be warned to study simplicity and go<lly 
 i>iiicerit> . 
 
 ■\ It is well for us to he much on this mount. We have constant need of caution. 
 I':«mI lakes I he Coi-inthians up to this Mount Caution, and shows tliem what awful 
 thiiij;s have happened to profissoi-s of old ; and he leaves this solemn »or>l lor 
 »is — •• Wherefore let him who ihinkcth he standeth, take heed lest he fall." 
 I Cor. X. 12. 
 
 (rt) 2 Tim. ii. 17, 18. 
 
WERE MEN BLINDED BY GIANT DESPAIR. 197 
 
 place they chose to gO out of it into that meadow, and 
 there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast into Doubt- 
 ing Castle ; where, after they had a while been kepu in 
 the dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led 
 tliem among those tombs, where he had left them to \van- 
 der to this very day, that the saying of the wise man 
 might be fulfilled, " He that wandereth out of tlie way of 
 understanding, shall remain in the congregation of the 
 dead. "(a) 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, w here was a door in 
 the side of an hill, and they opened the door, and bid 
 them look in. They looked in therefore, and saw that 
 within it was very dark and 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, \¥hat means this ? 
 The shepherds told them. This is a by-wa}^ to hell, a 
 way that hypocrites go in at ; namely, such as sell their 
 birdiright, Avith Esau ; such as sell their Master, with 
 Judas ; such as blaspheme the gospel, with Alexander ; 
 and that lie and dissemble, with Annanias, and Sapphira 
 his wife. 
 
 Then said Hopeful to the shepherds, I perceive that 
 these had on them, even every one, a show of pilgrimage, 
 as we have now ; had they not ? 
 
 She p. Yea, and held it a long time too. 
 
 Hope. How far might they go on in pilgi-imagc in 
 their days, since they notwithstanding were thus misera- 
 bly cast away ? 
 
 * Do we see others fall into perdition by the very same sins and follies from 
 ■which God has reclaimed us: What must ve resolve this into, Imt his snpera- 
 boundin!^ mercy to us ! And surely it is enough to make one's eyes gush out with 
 tears, and to melt our h:ird hearts into fervent love, to look back upon the manv 
 singular instances of God's distinguishing favour to us. call them to mind and 
 be thankful. 
 
 (a) Prov. xxi, 16. 
 
198 THE SHEPHERDS' DIRECTIONS TO THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 She?. Some further, and some not so far as these 
 mountains.* 
 
 Then said tlie pilgrims one to another, We had need 
 to cry to the strong- for strength. 
 
 She p. All, and you will have need to use it when you 
 have it, too. 
 
 B}' this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forwards, 
 and the shepherds a desire they should ; so they walked 
 together towards the end of the mountains. Then said 
 the shepherds one to another. Let us here show the pil- 
 grims the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill to 
 look through our prospective glass. The pilgrims then 
 lovingly accepted the motion : so they had them to the 
 top of an high hill, called Clear, and gave them the glass 
 to look. 
 
 Then they essayed to look, but the remembrance of 
 that last thing that the shepherds had showed 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 this song : 
 
 *' Tims by tlie shepherds secrets are reveal'd, 
 Which from all other ineu are kept couceal'd ; 
 Come to the shepherds then, if a ou 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 jiatterer. The third bid them take heed 
 that they sleep not upon the enclianted ground. And the 
 fourth bid them good speed. So 1 a\voke from my dream. 
 
 • Thus wc read of some licing once onlip;litpnc<l, nnd liaviiip; tasted of tlie heaven- 
 ly Rift, ami were niinle piirtukers of tlie world to e.ome. Htb. vi. It is hard to say 
 how far, or how long; a person may follow Clirist, and because of unfaithfulness, jet 
 fall nway, and lome shoi t of the kins;''""' »t hist. This shoulilcxcite to dilij^ence, 
 humility, ami circiimspcclion, ever lo<jkinj; lo Jesus ti» keep us from falling. 
 
 •j- Tlie plass of (;o<l's word of Rrace and trutli, held up by tlie hand of taith to 
 the eve of the soul. So Paul speaks; beholding as in a ^lass (the gospoi) the glory 
 of the l,ord, kc '2 Cor. iii 18. But unbelieving doubts and fears will make the 
 hand tremble, and the sight dim. 
 
CHRISTIAN, HOPEFUL, AND THE SHEPHERDS 
 ON MOUNT CLEAR, 
 
COUNTRY OP CONCEIT; IGNORANCE. 19f 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS MEET WITH IGNORANCE— THE ROBBERY OP 
 LITTLE FAITH RELATED— CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL CAUGHT 
 IN THE NET. 
 
 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 before 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 ? 
 
 Ion OR. Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off" 
 there a little on the left hand, and am going to the Celes- 
 tial City. 
 
 Chr. But how do you think to get in at the gate ? for 
 you may find some difficulties there. 
 
 As other good people do, said he. 
 
 Chr. But what have you to show at that gate, that 
 may cause that gate to be opened to you ? 
 
 Ignor. 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.f 
 
 • This country we were all born in; and are all by nature darkness. Some live 
 lon^ in the country of Conceit, and many end their days in it. Are you come out 
 of it? So was Ignorance; but he breathed his native air. So long as any sin- 
 ner thinks he can do any thing towards making himself righteous before God 
 his name Is ignorance, he is full of self-conceit, and destitute of the faith of 
 Christ. 
 
 •{■ Is it not very common to hear professors thus express themselves ? Yes and 
 many who make a very high profession too ; their hopes are i))ainly grounded tii)on 
 ■what they are in themselves, and how they differ from their former selves and 
 ether sinners, instead of wliat Christ has made us, and what we are in Christ. 
 But the profession of such is begun with aa iguorant, whole, self-righteous heart. 
 
200 CHARACTER OF IGNORANCE, 
 
 Chr. But thou earnest not in at the Wicket-gate that 
 is at the head of this wa}- ; thou earnest in hither through 
 that same crooked lane, and therefore I fear, however 
 tliou mayest think of thyself, when tjic reekoning-day 
 shall come, thou wilt have laid to thy charge, that thou 
 art a thief and a robber, instead of getting admittance into 
 the city. 
 
 Ignor. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to mc, I 
 know } ou not ; be content to follow the religion of your 
 country, and I Avill follow the religion of mine. I hope 
 all will be well. And, as for the gate you talk of, all 
 the world knows, that that is a great wixy off of our coun- 
 try. I cannot think that any men hi all our parts do so 
 much as know the way to it, nor need they matter whether 
 they do or no ; since ^ve have, as you see, a fine pleasant 
 green lane, that comes down Irom our countr}- the nearest 
 way. 
 
 When Christian saw that the man was wise in his 
 o^\'n conceit, he said to jtiopeful whisperingly, " There is 
 more hope of a fool than of him ;"(c) 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 tbol."(^) 
 What, shall we talk further with him, or outgo him at 
 present, and so leave hini to think of what he hath heard 
 already, and then stop again for him afterwards, and see 
 if b\ degrees we can do any good by him ? Then said 
 Hopeful, 
 
 " Let Ignorance a little while now muse 
 On what is said, and let him not refuse 
 Gcod counsel to embrace, Ust he r< main 
 Still ia:iiora!it of what's the chiefest sain. 
 God i>aith, those that no understandin:; have, 
 Allhouj^h he made thcnj, them he will not save." 
 
 it is cmitinueil in pride, self- socking, ami st-lf-exaltinp, anil ends in awful ilisap- 
 poiiilinenC For such arc callid by our LortI iliievisand robbers; they rob hiiu ut 
 ihc glory of liis grace and tlie efficacy of his precious blood. 
 
 (<i) Prov. xxvi. 12. (6) Ecclcs. s. 2. 
 
TURN-AWAY CARRIED OFF BY DEVILS. 201 
 
 He further added, It is not good, I think, to say to 
 him all at once ; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk 
 to him anon, even as he is " able to bear it." 
 
 So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after. 
 Now ^vhen they had passed him a little way, they en- 
 tered 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.(«) 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-awa}^ 
 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 thins: was this : — 
 at the entermg m at this passage, there comes down 
 from Broad- way-gate, a lane, called Dead-man's lane ; 
 so called, because of the murders that are commonly 
 done there ; and this Little-faith going on pilgrimage, 
 as we do now, chanced to sit down there and slept : 
 now there happened at that time to come down the lane 
 from Broad-way-gate, three sturdy rogues, and their 
 
 • O beware of a light, trifling sinrit, and a wanton beliaviour. It is often tho 
 forerunner of apostacy from God. It makes one tremble to hear tliose who pro- 
 fess to follow Christ iu tlie regeneration, crying, What harm is there in this game, 
 and the other diversion ? They plainly discover what spirit they are got into. TIif; 
 warmth of love is gone, and they arc become cold, dead, and carnal. O ho^' many 
 instances of these abound ! 
 
 (a) Matt. xii. 45. ProT. t. 2?. 
 26 
 
202 CHRISTIAN TELLS OF LITTLE-FAITH'S ROBBERT. 
 
 names were Faint-heart, Mistrust, and Guilt, three bro- 
 thers*, 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 all came up to hmi, and 
 with threatening language bid him stand. At this Lit- 
 tle-faith looked as white as a clout, and had neither 
 power to fight nor flee. Then said Faint-heart, " De- 
 liver 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 hear- 
 ing that some were upon tlie roiid, and fearing lest it 
 should be one Great-grace, that dwells in the city of 
 Good-confidence, they betook themsehes to their heels, 
 and left this good man to shift for himself; who, getting 
 up, made shift to scramble on his ^\a^ . — This was the 
 story.* 
 
 Hope. But did they take from him all that ever he 
 had ? 
 
 Chr. No : the place where his jewels were, they 
 never ransacked ; so those he kept 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 
 
 • Where there is a faint lieai t in Gofl's cause, and mistrust of God's tniths, 
 here will Ik? guilt in tiie conscience, and a dead faitli in the heart; and tliesc 
 rogues will prevail over, and rob such souls of the comforts of (iwl's love aud of 
 Christ's solvation. O iiow nir.ny are overtaken by these in sleepy fits and care- 
 less frames, and plundered ! Learn to be •« isc from the things others have 
 suHcrtU. 
 
HE SAVES HIS CERTIFICATE. 203 
 
 him to his journey's end ;(«) nay, if I was not misin- 
 formed, he was forced to beg as he went, to keep him- 
 self alive (for his jewels* he might not sell.) But beg 
 and do what he could, " he went," as we say, " with 
 many a hungry belly," the most part of the rest of the 
 way. 
 
 Hope. But is it not a wonder they got not from him 
 his certificate, by which he was to receive his admit- 
 tance at the Celestial gate ? 
 
 Chr. It is a wonder : but they got not that ; though 
 they missed it not through any good cunning of his ; 
 for he, being dismayed with their coming upon him, had 
 neither power nor skill to hide any thing, so it was more 
 by good providence than by his endeavour, that they 
 missed of that good thing.f (6) 
 
 Hope. But it must needs be a comfort to him, that 
 they got not his jewels from him. 
 
 Chr. It might have been great comfort to him, had 
 he used it as he should : but they who told me the story, 
 said, that he made but little use of it at all the rest of the 
 w^ay ; and that, because of the dismay that he had in the 
 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 comfort- 
 ed therewith ; then would fresh thoughts of his loss 
 come again upon him, and those thoughts would swallow 
 up all. 
 
 • By his jewels, we may unilcrstand those imparteil graces of the Spirit, Faith, 
 Hope, and Love. By his spending money, understand the sealing and earnest of 
 the Spirit in his heart. 2 Cor. i. '22. Of this divine assurance and the sense of the 
 peace and joy of the Holy Ghost, he was robbed, so, that though he still went on 
 in the ways of the Lord, yet he dragged on but heavily and uncomfortably : and 
 was not happy in himself. O how much evil and distress are brought upon us by 
 neglecting to watch and pray ! 
 
 t What was this good thing? His faith, whose author, finisher, and object is 
 JesHs \nd where he gives this gift of faith, though it be but little, even as a 
 grain of mustard-seed, if exercised by the possessor, not all the powers of earth 
 aad hell can rob the heart of it. 
 
 <rt) I Pet. iv. 18. (i) 2 Tim. i. 14. 2 Pet. ii. 9. 
 
204 LTTTLE-FAlTirS AFFLICTION. 
 
 Hope. Alas, poor man ! this could not but be a great 
 grief unto him ! 
 
 Chr. Grief! ay, a grief indeed. Would it not have 
 been so to any of us, had we been iised 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 u ith grief, 
 poor heart : I was told he scattered almost all the rest 
 of the way, with nothing but doleful and bitter com- 
 plaints : telling also to all who overtook him, or that he 
 overtook in the way as he went, where he was robbed, 
 and how ; Avho they were that did it, and \\ hat he lost ; 
 how he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with 
 his life."*^ 
 
 Hope. But it is. a wonder that his necessity did not 
 put him upon selling or pawning some of his jewels, 
 that he might have w herewith to relieve himself in his 
 journey. 
 
 Chr. Thou talkest like one, upon whose head is 
 the shell to this very day : for what should he pa\vn 
 them ? or to whom should he sell them ? In all that 
 country \\here he was robbed, his jewels were not ac- 
 counted of; nor did he want that relief which could 
 from thence be administered to him. Besides, had his 
 jewels been missing at the gate ol the Celestial City he 
 had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from 
 an inheritance there, and that Avould have been worse 
 to him than the appeiirance and villain}- of ten thousand 
 thieves. 
 
 Hope. Why art thou so tart, my brother ? Esau sold 
 his birthright, and that for a mess of pottage ;{a) and that 
 birthright was his greatest jewel : luid, if he, w hy might 
 not Little-faith do so too ? 
 
 " Here is a discovery of true, tlioiiRli it be but little faitb. It inouriiB its loss of 
 God's presence, and the comforts of liis Spirit, and laments its full) for slecpinj:;, 
 vben il sbould have been watihing and praying. He that I)ines imder the sense of 
 the loss of Ciirist's love, has faith in his heart, anil a measure of love to C'lirisl in 
 his houl ; thoiit;h he goes on his way m eeping, yet he shal ind joy iu the end. Soul, 
 l)C on thy watchtowcr, lest thou sleep the sleep of eternal death'. 
 
 (ft) Ilcb. XJJ, 10. 
 
DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND ESAU. 205 
 
 Chr. Esau did sell his birdiright indeed, and so do 
 many besides, and by so doing, exclude themselves 
 from die chief blessing : as also that caitiff did : but 
 you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-foith, 
 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- fleshly appetite. Little-faith's did 
 not so. Besides, Esau could see no furdier than to 
 the fulfilling of his lust : " For I am at the point to 
 die," said he, " and what good will this birthright do 
 me ?"(«) But Little-faith, thoua^h it was his lot to have 
 but a little faith, was by his little faith kept from such 
 extravagancies, 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, if 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 occasions can- 
 not be turned away :"((^) when their minds are set upon 
 their lusts, they will have them, v.hatever they cost. 
 But Little-faith was of another temper, his mind was 
 on things divine ; his livelihood v.as 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 gi\'e a penny 
 to fill his belly with hay ? or can you persuade the tur- 
 tle-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 outriglit to boot, 
 yet they that have faith, saving fliith, though but little 
 
 {a) Gen. xxv, 29—34. (6) Jer. ii. 21.. 
 
206 HOPEFUL BLAMES UTTLE-PAITIL 
 
 of it, cannot do so. Here, therefore, my brother, is thy 
 mistake. 
 
 Hope. I acknowledge it ; but yet your severe reflec- 
 tion had almost made me angry. 
 
 Chr. Wh}' ! 1 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 lieads ; 
 but piss by that, and consider the matter under debate, 
 and all shall be well l^etwixt thee and me. 
 
 HoTE. But Christian, these three fellows, I am per- 
 suaded 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, inethinks, 
 liave stood one brush with them, and have yielded, when 
 there had been no remedy. 
 
 Chr. That they are cowards, many have said, but 
 few have found it so in the time of trial. As for a 
 great heart. Little-faith had none ; and I perceived by 
 thee, my brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, 
 thou art but for a brush, and then to yield. And veri- 
 ly, since this is the height of thy stomach, now they 
 are at a distance from us, should they appear to thee, 
 as they did to him, they might put thee to second 
 thoughts.* 
 
 But consider again, they are but journeymen thieves, 
 they serve under the king of the bottomless pit ; who, 
 if need be, will come to their aid himself, and his 
 voice is as the roaring of a lion. (a) I myself have 
 been engaged as this Little-faith was ; and I found it a 
 
 • Ah ! how easy is it to talk when enemies are out of sight ! We too often wax 
 valiant in our own esteem, when we have constjint iict-d to humble ourselves under 
 the iniglitv li^nd of God, knowing what mere nothin{;s we are of ourselves. It 
 makes a Christian speak tartly, when one sees self-exaltings in another. Paul 
 frequently speaks thus, from warm zeal for Christ's glory, and Btronj; love to the 
 truth as it is in Jesus. 
 
 (a) 1 Pet. T. 8. 
 
GREAT-GRACE, THE KING'S CHAMPION. 207 
 
 terrible thing. These three villains set upon me, and I 
 beginning like a Christian to resist, they gave out a callj 
 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 armour of proof. Ay, and 
 yet though 1 was so harnessed, I found it hard work 
 to quit myself like a man ; no man can tell what in that 
 combat attends us, but he that hath been in the battle 
 himself.* 
 
 Hope. Well, but they ran you see, when they did but 
 suppose that one Great- grace was in the way. 
 
 Chr. True, they have often fled, both they and their 
 master, when Great- grace hath appeared ; and no mar- 
 vel, for he is the King's champion : but, I trow, you 
 will put some difference between Litde-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 Aveak, and therefore he went to the 
 wall.f 
 
 Hope. I would it had been Great-grace, for his 
 i^ake. 
 
 " Who can stand in the evil day of temptation, when beset with Faint-heart, 
 Mistrust, and Guilt, backed by the power of their master Satan ? No one, unless 
 armed with the whole armour of God : even then the power of such infei-nal foes 
 makes it a hard fight to the Christian. But this is our glory, the Lord shall fight 
 for us, and we shall hold our peace ; we shall be silent as to ascribing any glory to 
 ourselves, knowing our very enemies are part of ouiselves, and thst we are more 
 than conquerors over all these <only) through HIM who loved us Rom viii 27. 
 
 t Pray mind this, ye lambs of the flock, whose knowledge is small, and whose 
 faith is weak: O never think the God ye believe in, the Saviour ye follow, is an 
 austere master, who expects more from you than ye are able. When he calls for 
 your service, look to him for strength ; expect all power and strength for every 
 good work out of the fulness of Christ ; the more you receive from him, the mov': 
 you will grow up in hirci, and be tlcToted to him. 
 
208 IXFLUENXE OF FAINT-HEART AND MISTRUST. 
 
 Chr, If it had been he, he might have had his handi: 
 lull : for I must tell you, tiiat though Great-grace is ex- 
 cellent good at his Aveapon, 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, Mis- 
 trust, or the other, it will go hard, but that 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 sliall see 
 those scars and cuts there, that shall easily give demon- 
 stration of what I say. Yea, once I heard that he 
 should say (and that when he was in the combat,) " We 
 despaired even of life."* How did these sturdy 
 rogues and their fellows make David groan, mourn, and 
 roar ? Yea, Heman and Hezekiah too, though champi- 
 ons 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 hiyeth at him 
 cannot hold ; the spear, the dart, nor the habergecn ; 
 he estcemeth iron as straw, and brass as rotten wood : 
 the arrow cannot make him flee, sling- stones are turned 
 \\ilh him into stubble ; darts are counted as stubble ; 
 
 • Now licic you SCO wliat is meant by Grcnt-gracc, who is so often mentioncil in 
 this book, an<l"l)V wltoni so many valiant tilings were done. We rcati, " Willi 
 Kient power tbe nposi Us witnessed of the resurrection of Jesus." Wli} wis it? 
 Because — '« Great-graee was upon tlieni all." Acts iv .5.3 So you see -ill is of 
 grace, from first to last, in salvation. If we do j^rcal tlunjjs for Clirist, yetnotuntft 
 us, but unto the Great -^raee of our Lord be all the glory. 
 
JOB'S HORSE DESCRIBED, 209 
 
 he laiigheth at the shaking of the spear."(«) What can 
 a man do in this case ? it is true, if a man could at eve- 
 ry 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 grass- 
 hopper ; 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. "((6) 
 
 But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never 
 desire to meet with an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could 
 do better, when we hear of others that they have been 
 foiled ; nor be tickled at the thought of our own man- 
 hood, for such commonly come by the worst when tried. 
 Peter, of whom I made mention before, he would swag- 
 ger, ay, he would ; he would as his vain mind prompted 
 him to say, do better, and stand more for his master than 
 all men : but who so foiled and run down by those vil- 
 lains as he ?* 
 
 When therefore we hear that such robberies are done 
 on the King's highway, two things become us to do : 
 first, to go out harnessed, and to be sure to take a shield 
 with us ; for it was for want of that, that he that laid so 
 lustily at Leviathan, could not make him yield ; for, in- 
 
 • P'rom this sweet and edifying conversation, learn not to think more highly of 
 yourself than you ought to think ; but to tliink soberly, according to the measure. 
 of faith which God hath dealt to you. Horn xii. 3. Now it is of the very essence 
 of faith, to lead us out of all self-confidence and vain vaunting. For we know not 
 how soon Faint-heart, Mistrust and tiuili, may spring up in us, set upon us, 
 and if not found in the exercise of faith, will rob us of our coniforts, and spt)il 
 our joys. 
 
 (er) Job xli, 26— 27» (6) J»b xsstx. J9— 2'5i 
 
 27 
 
210 THE ONLY SECUBITY AGAINST ROBBERS. 
 
 deed, if that be wanted, he fears us not at alk There- 
 fore he that had skill hath said, " above all, take the 
 shield of faith, wherewith 3e shall be able to quench all 
 the fiery darts of the wicked. "(a) 
 
 It is good also that we desire of the King a convoy, 
 that he \\'\\\ go with us himself. This made David re- 
 joice when in the valle}- of the Shadow of Death ; and 
 Moses was rather for dying where he stood, than to go 
 one step without his God. (6) O my brother, if he 
 will but go along with us, what need \ve be afraid of 
 ten thousand that shall set themselves against us ? 
 but without him " the proud helpers fall under the 
 slain."*(f) 
 
 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 man- 
 hood. Glad shall I be if I meet with no more such 
 brunts ; though I fear we are not got beyond all dan- 
 ger. However, since the lion and the bear have not 
 as yet devoured me, I hope God will deliver us from 
 the next uncircumcised Pliilistines. Then sang Cliris-. 
 tian — 
 
 " Poor Little-faith 1 hast been among the thieves ; 
 Wast robb'd : Remember this, whoso believes, 
 And jjet more laith, then shall you victors be 
 Over ten thousands, else scarce over three." 
 
 So they went on, and Ignorance followed. They went 
 then till they came at a place ^\■here they saw a way put 
 
 * Hut liow contrary to this, is the mhIIc aiul eoniluct of some who profess to be 
 pili^riiiis, and vet can wilfiillv anil <k-iil)erate y go iijion the devil's ground, and 
 indulge themselves in carnal |)lcasiire<; and sinful diversions! Such evidcutiv de- 
 clare in plain languasje, that they desire not the presence of God, but that he 
 should depart from them : hut a day will come, vhicli will burn as an oven, when 
 i-'iicli [jrofeRSors, if they repent not, shall become stubble, and be consumed by the 
 ijre ol God. 
 
 (<') Eph. vi. 10. (b) Exod xxxiii. 15. (c) Psal. Jii. 5— ». 
 
 xxvii. 1 — 3. Isa. s. i. 
 
THE PILGRIMS SEDUCED BY THE FLATTERER. 211 
 
 itself into their way,* and seemed withal to lie as straight 
 
 as the way which they should go ; and here they kirew 
 
 not vvhich of the two to take, for both seemed straight 
 
 before them : therefore here they stood still to consider. 
 
 And as they were thinking about the way, behold, a m.-.n 
 
 of black flesh, but covered with a very light robe, came 
 
 to them, and asked them, why they stood there ? They 
 
 answered, They Avere a going to the Celestial City, but 
 
 knew not which of these ways to take. " Follow me," 
 
 says the man, " it is thither that I am going." So they 
 
 followed him in the way that but now came into the road, 
 
 which by degrees turned, and turned them so from the 
 
 city that they desired to go to, that in a little time their 
 
 faces were turned away from it : — yet they followed him. 
 
 But by and by, before they were aware, he led them 
 
 both within the compass of a net, in which they were 
 
 both so entcingled, that they knew not what to do ; and 
 
 with that the white robe fell off the black man's back : — 
 
 They then saAv where they were. Wherefore there they 
 
 lay crying some time, for they could not get them.selves 
 
 out.t 
 
 Then said Christian to his fellow. Now do I see my- 
 self in an error. Did not the shepherds bid us beware 
 of the flatterers ? As is the saying of the wise man, so 
 have we found it this day, " A man that flattereth his 
 neighbour, spreadeth a net for his feet."(c) 
 
 Hope, They also gave us a note of directions about 
 the way, for our more sure finding thereof ; but herein 
 
 * By this way and a way, it is plain the author means Uie way of self-i-ightoous- 
 ness, and the way of the imparted righteousness of Christ. Whenever we tura 
 aside to the former, we get out of the way to the eitj ; yea, we see by degrees 
 the pilgrims' faces were turned away from it, and they were entangled in the net 
 of pride and folly. 
 
 f Luther was wont to caution against the white devil, as much as tlie black one ; 
 for Satan transforms himself into an angel of light, and liis ministers as mici.sters 
 of righteousness. 2 Cor. xi, 14, 15. And how do they ruin souis? By fiauerv, 
 deceiving the ignorant, and beguiling the unstable. The'se are black men clollie<S 
 in white. 
 
 (a) Pror. xxix. 5. 
 
212 THEY ARE DEIJVERED, 
 
 A\e have also forgotten to read, and have not kept our- 
 selves 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, "(a) Thus they lay bewail- 
 ing themselves in the net. At last they spied a shining 
 one* coming towards them, with a whip of small cord 
 in his hand. When he was come to the place where 
 they were, he asked them, whence they came, and what 
 they did there ? 'i'hey 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 a flatterer, " a false apostle, 
 that hath transformed himself into an angel of light."(Z>) 
 So he rent the net, and let the men out. Then said he 
 to them. Follow me, that I may set you in the 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 
 
 • By this shining one, undcrstanf) the Holy Ghost, the leader and guide of all 
 •^I'ho believe When they err and stray from Jesus the way, and arc drawn from 
 Lim as the Truth, the Spirit comes with his rod of cwnviction and chastisement, to 
 ■whip them from their self-righteousness and folly, hack to Christ, to trust wholly 
 in him, to rely only on him, and to walk in fellowship with him. So he acted 
 by the Galatian Cliurcli, who was flattered into a notion of self-righteousneas 
 and self-justification. David also, when he found himself near lost, cries out, — 
 ** He resloreth my soul, He Icadeth rae in paths of righteousness for liis name's 
 Bake " Psal. \xiii. .•? 
 
 The following lines are ver}' expressive of the state of mind of any who, by gif- 
 ing place to unbelief, may have turned aside from the narrow way. 
 
 Often thus, through sin's deceit, 
 Grief and shame and loss I meet ; 
 J>ike a fish, my soul mistook, 
 Saw the hait, but not the hook: 
 Made, by past experience, wise ; 
 Let me learn thj word to prize ; 
 Taught by what I've felt before, 
 Satan's flattery to abhor. 
 
 BcRSKB. 
 
 (a) Tsal. XTii. *. (b) 2 Cor. ii. IS, U- Dan. W. 52. 
 
AND SORELY CHASTISED. 213 
 
 them then, if they had not a note of direction for the 
 way ? They answered, Yes. But did you, said he, when 
 you were at a stand, phick 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 diey, that this fine spoken 
 man had been he.(«) 
 
 Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to 
 lie down ;(6) which when they did, he chastised them 
 sore, to teach them the good way wherein they should 
 walk :{c) and, as he chastised them, he said, " As many 
 as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous, therefore, 
 and repent."(c/) This done, he bid them go on their 
 way, and take good heed to the other directions of the 
 shepherds. So they thanked him for all his kindness, 
 and went softly along the right way, singing — 
 
 " Come hither, you that walk aloug the way, 
 See how the pilgrims fare that go astray : 
 They catched are ia an entaiigliug uet, 
 'Cause they good counsel lightly did forget; 
 'Tis true they rescu'd were ; but yet, you see, 
 They're scourg'd to boot :— let this your caution be." 
 
 . (a) Rom, XVI. 17, 18. (ft) Dent. xxix. 2. (cj 2 Cbron, vi. 26, 27. 
 
 * ^ , (d) Rev. iii. 19. 
 
214 A MAN WITH HIS BACK TO ZION^ .- 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS MEET WITH ATHEIST, AND PASS OVER THE 
 ENCHANTED GROUND. 
 
 Now after a whiie, 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. 
 
 Hope. I see him ; let us take heed to ourselves 
 no\v, 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 ? 
 
 Chr. We are going to mount Zion. 
 
 Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter. 
 
 Chr. What is the meaning of your laughter ? 
 
 Ath. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, 
 to take upon you so ridiculous a journey ; and yet are like 
 to have nothing but your travel for your p lins. 
 
 Chr. Why, man, do you think we shall not be re- 
 ceived ? 
 
 Ath. Received i there is no such place as you dream 
 of in all this w orld. 
 
 Chr. But there is in the world to come. 
 
 Ath. When 1 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 twenty 
 years, but find no more of it than I did the first day I set 
 out. (a) 
 
 Chr. We have both heard and believe that there is 
 such a place to be found. 
 
 Ath. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not 
 come thus far to seek ; but finding none (and }'ct I 
 sliould, had there been such a place to be found, for 
 
 ■■ — ■ ■ ■ ■ .1 ■ . ■ I .^ . J .■ 
 
 (ff) Eccl. X. 15. Jer. xyii. l.":. 
 
HIS VAIN REASONINGS DISREGARDED. 215 
 
 I have gone to seek it further than you,) I am going 
 back again, and will seek to refresh myself with the 
 things that I then cast away for hopes of that which I 
 now see is not. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful his companion, is it 
 true which this mnn hath said ? 
 
 Hope. Take heed, he is one of the flatterers : re- 
 member what it hath 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 ? Al-o, are we not now to walk by- 
 faith ?(«) Let us go on, said Hopeful, lest the man 
 with the whip overtake us again.* You should have 
 taught me that lesson which I will sound in the ears 
 withal : " Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that 
 causeth to err from the words of knowledge ;"(/5) I 
 say, my brother, cease to hear him, and let us believe 
 to the saving of the soul, 
 
 Chr. My brother, I did not put the question to 
 thee, for that I doubted of the truth of your belief my- 
 self, but to prove thee, and to fetch from thee a fruit 
 of tlie honesty of thy heart. As for this man, 1 know 
 that he is blinded by the god of this world. Let thee 
 and I go on, knowing that we have belief of the truth ; 
 and " no lie is of the truth. "(c) 
 
 Hope. Now I do rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 
 So they turned away from the man, and he, laughing 
 at them, went his way. 
 
 I saw then in my dream, that they went till they 
 came into a 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 of 
 
 • See how we are surrounded with different enemies. No sooner have they 
 escaped the self-righteous flatterer, but they meet with the openly profane and li- 
 centious mocker. Ay, and he set out, and went far loo, yea, farther than they ; 
 but behold, he has turned his back upon all, and though he had been twenty years 
 a seeker, yet now he proves, lie has neither faith nor hoiie, but ridiciUes all as 
 delusion. Awful to think of ! O what a special mercy to be kept believing and 
 persevering, not regarding the ridicule of apostates ! 
 
 {a) 2 Gor. y. 7. [ b) Prov. sis. 27. Hefe. x. 3S. (c) 1 JoUa ii. 2!. 
 
216 HOPEFUL BECO!VrES DROWSY. 
 
 sleep : wherefore he said unto Christian, I now begin 
 to grow so drowsy, that I can scarcely hoJd up mine 
 eyes ; let us lie down here and take one naj). 
 
 By no means, siiid the other ; lest^ sleeping, we ne- 
 ver wake more. 
 
 Hope. Why, my brother? sleep is sweet to the 
 labouring man : we may be refreshed if we tak( a nap. 
 
 Chr. Do you not remember that one of the shep- 
 herds bid us beware of the Enchanted Ground '? He 
 meant b}' that, that we should beware of sleeping ; 
 " wherefore let us not sleep as do others, but let us 
 watch and be sober. "*(«) 
 
 Hope. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and, had 
 I been here alone, I had by sleeping run the danger of 
 death. I see it is true that the wise man saith, " Two 
 are better than one. "(6) Hitherto hath thy company 
 been my mercy ; and thou shait " have a good reward 
 for thy labour." 
 
 Now then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in 
 this place, let us fall into good discourse. 
 
 With all my heart, said the other. 
 
 Chr. Where shall we begin ? • 
 
 Hope. Where God began with us: — but do yoii 
 begin if }0U pkase. 
 
 Chr. I will sing you first this song — 
 
 " Wlioii saints do sleepy grow, let them come hither, 
 Aiul licar how these twn pilgrims uliv together: 
 Yea, let them learn of them in any wise 
 Thus to keep ope their drowsj slumbering eyes. 
 Saint's fellowship, if it be manag'd well, 
 Keeps them awake, and that iu spile of l)ell."f 
 
 go easy 
 tlie ca 
 
 O Christian, beware of sleeping; on this cncliantfd ground ! When all things 
 asv, snioolh, iiikI well, we are prone to grow drowsy in soul How niAuy are 
 ,..^ ;ails in the word, against spiritual slunibir ! and .yet how nianv profi bsors, 
 through the enciianling air of this world, aie falhn into the dcfji sleep ol inr- 
 malily ! Be warned hy thcni to ciy to thy Lord to keep thee awake to Hghtcous- 
 ness, and he vigorous in the wavs ui' thy lloinl. 
 
 ■j- Ohsci valion fullv evinces this truth, and when tlie soul slumbers, the tongue 
 it mule to spiritual converse, and the truths of Jesus fi eeze on the lips, while the 
 
 (rtj Thcss. V. 6. (6) EccU iv. 9. 
 
itOPEFUL'S PAST LIFE, AND FIRST CONVICTIONS. 217 
 
 Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a 
 question : How came you to think at first of doing what 
 you do now ? 
 
 Hope. Do you mean, how came I at first to look af- 
 ter the good of my soul ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, that is my meaning. 
 
 Hope. I continued a great while in the delight of 
 those things which were seen and sold at our fair ; things 
 which I believe liow would have, had I continued in 
 them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction. 
 
 Chr. What things are they ? 
 
 Hope. All the treasures and riches of the world. 
 Also, I delighted much in rioting, revelling, drinking, 
 swearing, lying, uncleanness, sabbath-breaking, and 
 what not, that tended to destroy the soul. But I found, 
 at last, by hearing and considering of things that are 
 divine, which indeed I heard of you, as also of beloved 
 Faithful, who was put to death for his faith and good 
 living in Vanity-fair, that " the end of these things is 
 death ;" and that " for these things' sake the wrath of 
 God Cometh upon the children of disobedience, "(c) 
 
 Chr. And did you presently fall under the power of 
 this conviction ? 
 
 Hope. No ; I was not willing presently to know the 
 evil of sin, nor the damnation that follows upon the 
 commission of it ; but endeavoured, when my mind at 
 first began to be shaken with the word, to shut mine 
 eyes against the light thereof. 
 
 Chr. But what was the cause of your carrying of it 
 thus to the first workings of God's blessed Spirit upon 
 you ? 
 
 man is all ear to hear, and all tongue to talk of vain, worldlj-, and trifling things. 
 Beware of such sleepj- professors. You are in danger of catcliing the infection: 
 you are sure t« get no spiritual edification from them ; but be sure to be faithfwl ih 
 reproving them, and prize the company of lively Cluistians, 
 
 "((t) Rom. vi. 21 — 23. Epli. t. <>. 
 
 28. 
 
213 AMENDMENT FAILS TO QUIET HTS CONSCIENCE, 
 
 Hope. The causes were — 1. I was ignorant that 
 this was the work of God upon me. 1 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 
 teii how to part w'nh my old companions, their presence 
 and actions were so desirable unto me. 4. The hours 
 in which convictions were upon me, were such trouble- 
 some and such heart-affrighting hours, that I could not 
 bear, no, not so much as the remembrance of them up- 
 on my heart.* 
 
 Chr. Then it seems, sometimes you got relief of 
 your trouble ? 
 
 Hope. Yes, verily,, but it would come into my 
 mind 'igain, and then I would be as bad, nay, \vorsc 
 than 1 was before. 
 
 Chr. Why, what was it that brought your sins to- 
 mind again ? 
 
 Hope. Many things : as, if I did but meet a good 
 man in the street ; or if I have heard any read in the 
 Bible ; or if mine head did begin to ache ; or if I were 
 told that some of my neighbours were sick ; or if I 
 heard the bell toll for some that were dead ; or if I 
 thought of d}'ing myself; or if I heard that sudden 
 death hapjjcned to others : — but especially when I 
 thought of myself, that I must quickly come to judg- 
 ment. 
 
 Chr^ And could you at any time, with ease, get off 
 the guilt of sin, when by any of these ways it came up- 
 on you ? 
 
 • Here you sec, as our Lord says, ' It is llic Spirit ulio quickenetli, the flesJt 
 profitith notliiiig." John vi. 63. Tiie flesh, or oiir carnal nature, so f<r Ironi 
 proruiii}; in the \iork ol" con\crsion In Christ, liial it is in eiiinity against him, ;>nd 
 eountiracis and opposes tiie Spirit's woik in shew ins; us our waiit of him, and 
 bringing us to liiiu. Man's natuie an<l 4iod's grace are two direct oppnsitesl 
 Nature opposes, hut grace suhdues nature, and hrings it to snhmission and subjec- 
 lion Are we truly convinced of sin, and c()n\eiie(i to rinist .' This is a it rtain 
 ami s\we evidi nee of it, — we shall say Iron, uur litarls. Not unto us, not ui.lo any 
 jieldings aud couiphances of our nature, free-will, and power only, but uu«.o thy 
 jiamc, O Lord, he ail the glory. 
 
HIS WAY OF ACCOUNTING FOR THIS. 219 
 
 Hope. No, not I ; for then they got faster hold of my 
 conscience : and then, if I did but think of going back 
 to sin, (though my mind was turned against it,) it would 
 be double torment to me. . 
 
 Ghr. And how did you do then? 
 
 Hope. I thought I must endeavour to mend my life; 
 for else, thought I, I am sure to be damned. 
 
 Chr. And did you endeavour to amend ? 
 
 Hope. Yes ; and fled from, not only my sins, but sin- 
 ful company too, and betook me to religious duties, as 
 praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my 
 neighbours, Sec. These things did I, with many others, 
 too much here to relate. 
 
 Chr. And did you think yourself well then? 
 
 Hope. Yes; for a while ; but at the last my trouble 
 came tumbling upon me again, and that over the neck of 
 all my reformation. 
 
 Chr. How came that about, since you v/ere now re- 
 formed ? 
 
 Hope. There were several things brought it upon 
 me ; especially such sayings as these ; " All our right- 
 eousness are as filthy rags :" "By the works of the 
 law no man shall be justified :" " When ye have done 
 all these things, sa)% vVe are unprofitable :"(«) vv'ith 
 many more such like. From whence I began to rea- 
 son with myself thus : — if all my righteousness are fil- 
 thy rags ; if by the deeds of the law no man can be 
 jus,iified ; and if, when we have done all, we are unpro- 
 fitable — then it is but a folly to think of heaven by the 
 law. I further thought thus — if a man runs a hundred 
 pounds into the shop-keeper's debt, and after that shall 
 pay for all that he shall fetch — yet, if this old debt stands 
 still in the book uncrossed, for that the shop-keeper may 
 sue him, and cast him into prison till he shall pa} the 
 debt. 
 
 Chr. Well, and how did you apply this to yourself? 
 
 (a) Isgjab Uir. €. Luke xrii. 10. Ga). ii- 16. 
 
220 now HE LEARNED THE WAY OP JUSTIFICATION; 
 
 Hope Why, I thought thus with myself, I have by 
 my sins run a great ^\ay into God's book, and that my 
 now reforming \vill not pay off that score ; therefore 
 I should think ^till, under all my present amendments, 
 *' But how shall 1 be freed from that danuiation that 
 I brought myself in danger of by my former transgres- 
 sions ?" 
 
 Chr. a very good application : but pray go on. 
 
 Hope. Another thing that hath troubled me, even 
 since my late amendments, is, that if I look narrowly in- 
 to the best of ^hat 1 now do, I still see sin, new sin, 
 mixing itself with the best of that I do : so that now I 
 am forced to conclude that, notwithstanding my former 
 fond conceits of myself and duties, i have committed 
 sin enough in one duty to send me to hell, though my 
 former lite had been faultless.* 
 
 Chr. And what did you do then ? 
 
 Hope. D(; ! I could not tell what to do, till I broke 
 my mind to Faithful ; for he and 1 were well acquaint- 
 ed : and he told me, that unless I could obtain the 
 righteousness of a man that never had sinned, neither 
 my own, nor all the righteousness of the world, could 
 save me.f 
 
 Chr. And did you think he spake true? 
 
 Hope. Had he told me so, when I was pleased and 
 satisfied with mine own amendment, I had called him 
 fool for his pains ; but now, since I see mine own in- 
 
 • Tlius you see in conversion, tlie Lord docs not act upon us by force and com- 
 pvilsion, as tliotigli we were inanimate stocks or stoni-s, or irrational animals, or 
 mere niaciiincs. No. We have understanding. He enliglilcns it. Then we 
 come to a sound mind; we think right, and reason justly. NVe have wills; what 
 the nnderstandiiig judges best, llic will approves, and then the aRcctions follow 
 a''i''r; and th\is we choose Chiist for our Saviour, and glorv only in his mercy and 
 salvation. When the heavenly light of tr'Utli makes mauifesl what we are, atid the 
 danger we a)e in, then we should flee from tiie wrath to come, to Christ the 
 refuge set bi-fore us. 
 
 •j- Here is the touchstone, to try whether conviction and conversion are from 
 the Spirit of truth (jr not. Many talk of conviction and convei"sion, who are yet 
 unchanged in heart, and strong in confidence of a righteousness of their own, or 
 of b('ing made righteous in themselves, insfeail of looking solely to, anil Irustinj 
 wholly in, the infinite mercy and Wood of Chi-ist Jesus, andilesiring to be found in 
 him. .Ml ion\icli«»n and e<in version, short of this, leaves the son) short of Christ's 
 risUteousuess, of hope, and of IteavgUk 
 
AND TO PLEAD THE PROMISES IN PRAYER. 221 
 
 Srmity, and the sin which cleaves to my best perform- 
 ance, I have been forced to be of his opinion. 
 
 Chr. But did you think, when at first he suggested 
 it to vou, that there was such a man to be found, of 
 whom it might justly be said, that he never committed 
 
 sin ? 
 
 Hope. I must confess the words at first sounded 
 strangely ; but, after a little more talk and company 
 with him, I had full conviction about it. 
 
 Chr. And did you ask him what man this was, and 
 how vou must be justified by him ?(a) 
 
 Hope. Yes, and he told me it was the Lord Jesus, 
 that dwelleth on the right hand of the Most High : 
 And thus, said he, you must be justified by him— 
 even by trusting to what he hath done by himself m 
 the days of his flesh, and suffered when he did hang on 
 the tree. I asked him further, how that man's righ- 
 teousness 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 1 believed 
 on him. 
 
 Chr. And what did you do then? 
 Hope. I made my objections against my believing, 
 for that I thought he was not willing to save me. 
 Chr. And what said Faithful to you then ? 
 Hope. He bid me go to him and see. Then I said 
 it was presumption. He said No, for I was invited to 
 come.(6) — Then he gave me a book of Jesus's indi- 
 ting, 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.(c) Then 
 I asked him what I must do when I came ? And he 
 told me, 1 must entreat upon my knees ;f(/) with all 
 my heart and soul, the Father to reveal him to me. 
 
 (a) Rom. iv. Col. i. Heb. x. 2 Pet. i. (6) Matt. xi. 28. 
 
 CO Matt, xxiv. 35. (dj Psal. xcv. 6. Jcr. rsw. 12, 13. Dsui. ti. 10. 
 
222 HE PERSEVERES IN PRAYING. 
 
 TJieii I asked him further, how I must make my sup- 
 pHcatioii to him ? And he said, Go, and thou slialt 
 find him upon a mercy-seat,(a) where he sits, all the 
 year long, to gi\'e jxirdon and for^^iveness to them that 
 come. I told him that 1 knew not what to say when 
 I came. And he bid me say to this effect — " God be 
 merciful to me a sinner," and, make me to know and 
 believe in Jesus Clirist : for I see, that if his righ- 
 teousness had not been, or. I have not faith in that righ- 
 teousness, 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 sin- 
 ner indeed :) Lord, take therefore this opportunity, 
 and magnify thy grace in the salvation of my soul, 
 through diy son Jesus Christ. Amen." 
 
 Chr. And did you do as you were bidden ? 
 
 Hope. Yes, over, and over, and over. 
 
 Chr. And did the Father reveal the Son to you ? 
 
 Hope. Not at first, nor second, nor third, nor fourth, 
 nor fifth, no, nor at the sixth time neither. f 
 
 Ckr. What did you do then? 
 
 Hope. What ! why I could not tell what to do. 
 
 Chr. Had you not thoughts of leaving off praying? 
 
 Hope. Yes, and a hundred times twice told. 
 
 Chr. And wiiat was the reason you did not ? 
 
 Hope. I believed that that was true which hath been 
 
 • Pray mind tliis. Tlie gi-aml object of a sensible sinner is ligbteousnejs 
 (or holiness.) Ue has it not iu himself. This he knows. Wliciv is it to be 
 fount! ? In Clirist only. This is a revealed truth ; and without fnith in this, every 
 sinner must be lost. Consider, it is at the \nn\ of your souls, that you reject the 
 ri<;hteousiies3 of Christ, and do not believe that fiod imparts it fu- the justiiic^tion 
 of the uuRo lly. O ye stout-hearted self-righteous sinners, ye who are far iVoni 
 i»i;lileousnoss! Know this and tremble 
 
 f There mr.y be, and often are, very great discouragements found in every 
 sinner's heart, when he first begins to seek tlic Lord. But he has Christ's faithful 
 VOi'd of promise, " Seek and ye shall find," &c. Luke xi. 9. 
 
 (a) Exod. xxT. 22. LcT. (ti. 2. Ueb. iv. 16. 
 
HOW CHRIST WAS REVEALED TO HIM. 223 
 
 told me, to wit, that without the righteousness of this 
 Christ, all the world could not save me : and therefore, 
 tlK.ught I with myself, if I leave off 1 die, and 1 can but 
 die at the throne of grace. And withal this came into my 
 mind, " If it tarry, waif for it ; because it will surely- 
 come, and will not tarr}%"(c) So I continued, until the 
 Fa i her showed me his Son.* 
 
 Chr. And how was he revealed unto you ? 
 
 Hope. I did not see him with my bodily eyes, but 
 with the eyes of my understanding,((^) and thus it was : — 
 one day I wiis ver) sad, I think sadder than at any one 
 time oi my life ; and this sadness was through a fresh 
 sight of the greatness and vileness of my sins. And as 
 1 was then looking for nothing but hell, and the everlast- 
 ing damnation of my soul, suddenly, as 1 thought, I saw 
 the Lord Jesus look down from heaven upon me, and 
 saying, " Beheve on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou 
 shalt be saved. "(<?) 
 
 But 1 replied, " Lord, I am a great, a very great sin- 
 ner :" and he answered, " My grace is sufficient for 
 thee." Then I said, " But, Lord, what is believing ?" 
 And then I saw from that sayii.g, " He that cometli to 
 me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall 
 never thirst, "(r/) that believing and coming was all one ; 
 and thai hf that came, that is, ran out in his heart and 
 affection 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 grt at sinner as I am, 
 be indeed accepted of thee, and be saved by thee ?" And 
 I heiird him say, " And him that cometh to me, I will 
 in no wise cast out."(<?) Then I said, " But how, Lord, 
 must I consider of thee in my coming to thee, that my 
 
 ' The true nature of faith is, to believe and rest upon the word of truth, and 
 wait v>ith humble fervency of soul for the promised comfort. That faith which is 
 the gift of God, leads the soul to wait upon and cry to God, and not to rest till it 
 has some blessed testimony from God, of interest in the love and favour of God in 
 ©hrist Jesus BiU.O how many professors rest short of th's? 
 
 (a) Hab. ii. 3. (6) Eph. i. 18, 19. (c) Acts xvi. SO, STf 
 
 (d) Joka ri. 55. (/•) Joha ri^ 37. 
 
224 TO THE INCREASE OF HIS HirNfTT.ITV ATCn J.OXT,. 
 
 faith may be placed arlgln upon thee ?" Then he said, 
 " Christ came into the world to siive sinners :" " he is 
 the end of the la^v for righteousness to every one that be- 
 lieves :" "he died for our sins, and rose again for our 
 justification :" " he loved us, and washed us from our 
 sins in his own blood :" " he is Mediator betwixt God 
 and us :" " he ever liveth to make intercession for us :"(«) 
 From all w hich I gathered, that I must look for righteous- 
 ness in his person,* and for satislaction for my sins by 
 his blood ; that w hich he did in obedience to his Father's 
 law, and in submitting to the penalty thereof, was not for 
 himself, but for him that will accept it for his salvation, 
 and be thankful. And now was my heart full of joy, 
 mine eyes full of tears, and mine affections running over 
 with love to the name, people, and ways of Jesus Christ. 
 
 Chr. This was a revelation of Christ to your soul in- 
 deed : but tell me particularly what effect this had upon 
 your ^>irit. 
 
 Hope. It made me see that all the world, notw-idistiind- 
 ing ail the righteousness thereof, is in a state of condem- 
 nation : it made mc see that God the Father, though he 
 be just, can justly justify the coming sinner : it made me 
 grtatiy ashamed ot the vileness of my ibrmer life, and 
 confounded me with the sense of mine own ignorance ; 
 for there never came tliought into my heart, before now, 
 that showed me so the beauiy oi Jesus Christ : it made 
 me love a holy life, and long to do something for the 
 honour and glory of the Lord Jesus ; yea, 1 thought that, 
 had 1 now a thousand gallons of blood in my body, I 
 couid spill it all lor the sake of tlie Lord Jesus. 
 
 • Reader, never tliink tli;it jou are fully convinced of ttie whole truth; nor be« 
 lieve fnlij on Christ Kceonling to the scri|>turcs, unless you have seen as ninch need 
 of Christ's glorious rij^htconsness Id justilV, iis ot his jn-ecious hlooti to panlon )0U. 
 Both are revt-aled in the gosiicl : holh are the ohjeils of I'-Mlh: by both is the eon- 
 sciMice pacified, the heart jiurifieil, the soul justified, and Jesus glorified iu the 
 heart, lip, and life. 
 
 («J I Tim. i. 15. li»m. x. 4. Hcb. vii. 24, 25. 
 
THE PILGRIMS STOP, AND IGNORANCE COMES UP. 225 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS HAVE ANOTHER CONFERENCE AVITH 
 IGNORANCE. 
 
 I SAW then in my dream, that Hopeful looked back 
 and saw Ignorance, whom they had left behind, com- 
 ing after : Look, said he to Christian, how far yonder 
 youngster loitereth behind. 
 
 Chr. Ay, ay, I see him : he careth not for our com- 
 pany. 
 
 Hope. But I trow it would not have hurt him, had he 
 kept pace with us hitherto. 
 
 Chr. That is true; but I'll warrant you he thinketh 
 otherwise. 
 
 Hope. That I think he doth : but, however, let us 
 tarry for him. So they did. 
 
 Then Christian said to him, Come away, man ; why 
 do you stay so behind ? 
 
 Ion OR. I take my pleasure in walking alone ; even 
 more a great deal than in company ; unless I like it 
 better. 
 
 Then said Christian to Hopeful, (but sofdy,) Did not 
 I 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 ? how stands it between 
 God and your soul now ? 
 
 Ignor. I hope well, for I am always full of good mo- 
 tions, that come into my mind to comfort me as I 
 walk.* 
 
 * Many sincere souls are often put to a stand, while they find and feel the 
 ■workings of corruption in their nature ; and when they hoar others talk so highlv of 
 themselves, without any complainings of the plague of their hearts. But all this 
 is from the ignorance of their own hearts ; and pride and self-righteousness harden 
 them against feeling its desperate wickedness. But divine teaching causes a 
 Christian to see, know, and feel the worst of himself, tliat h<i may gloi-v of nothing 
 
 29 
 
226 IGNORANCE'S HOPE, HEART, AND THOUGHTS. 
 
 Chr. What good motions? pray tell us. 
 
 Ignor. Why, I think of God and h.caven. 
 
 Chr. So do the devils and damned souls. 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them and desire them. 
 
 Chr. So do many that are never like to come 
 there. " The soul of the sluggard desires, and hath 
 nothing."(a) 
 
 Ignor. But I think of them, and leave all for them. 
 
 Chr. That I doubt: for leaving of all is an h.ird 
 matter ; yea, a harder matter than many are aware of. 
 But why, or by what, art thou persuaded that thou hast 
 left all for God and heaven ? 
 
 Ignor. My heart tells me so. 
 
 Chr. The wise man says, " He that trusts his own 
 heart is a fool. "(/^) 
 
 Ignor. This is spoken of an evil heart ; but mine is 
 a good one. 
 
 Chr. But how dost thou prove that ? 
 
 Ignor. It comforts me in hopes of heaven. 
 
 Chr. That may be through its deceitfulness ; for 
 a man's heart may minister comfort to him in the 
 liopcs of that thing for which he has yet no ground to 
 ho])e. 
 
 Ignor. But my heart and life agree together; and 
 therefore ni} hope is well grouiided. 
 
 Chr. Who told thee that thy heart and life agree 
 together ? 
 
 Ignor. My heart tells me. 
 
 Chr. ''Ask my fellow if I be a thief:' Thy heart 
 tells thee so ! Except tiie word ol God l^eareth witness 
 in this matter, other testimony is of no value. 
 
 in or of himself, but that all his glorying shniiUI he of what precious Christ is to him, 
 and what he is in Clinst See the contrary of all this exeniplrfied in Ignorance^ 
 in whom we hehold, as in a mirror, many jirofvs.sors who h'"c strangci'S to theip 
 'TA-a hearts; hence are deceived iiilo vain sell-contidenve. 
 
 {n) Prov. xiii. 4. {b) Prov. xxviii. 2C, 
 
WHAT ARE GOOD THOUGHTS. 227 
 
 Ignor. But is it not a good heart that has good 
 thoughts ? and is not that a good hfe that is according 
 to God's commandments ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, that is a good heart that hath good 
 thoughts, and that is a good hfe that is according to 
 God's conmiandments ; but it is one thing indeed to 
 have these, and another thing only to think so. 
 
 Ignor. Pray, what count you good thoughts, and a 
 life according to God's commandments ? 
 
 Chr. There are good thoughts of divers kinds; — 
 some respecting ourselves, some — God, some — Christ, 
 and some— other things. 
 
 Ignor. What be good thoughts respecting our- 
 selves ? 
 
 Chr. Such as agree with the word of God. 
 
 Ignor. When do our thoughts of ourselves agree 
 with the word of God. 
 
 Chr. When we pass the same judgment upon our- 
 selves which the word passes. — To explain myself : 
 the word of God saith of persons in a natural condi- 
 tion, " There is none righteous, there is none that do- 
 eth good." It saith also, that " every imagination of 
 the heart of a man is only evil, and that continu- 
 al!}. "(a) And again, " The imagination of man's 
 heart is evil from his youth." Now then, when we 
 tliink thus of ourselves, having sense thereof, then are 
 our thoughts good ones, because according to the 
 word of God. 
 
 Ignor. I will never believe that my heart is thus 
 bad.* 
 
 Chr. Therefore thou never hadst one good thought 
 concerning thyself in thy life. — But let me go on. As 
 the word passeth a judgment upon our heart, so it 
 
 • No ; no man naturally can. But this is a sure sign that the light from heaven 
 hath not yet shined into the heart, and made it manifest, how s'i|icilniively vicked 
 the heart is, and consequently, how it deceives ignoiant professors with a notion 
 of being good in themselves, and keeps them From wholly relying upon Christ's 
 atonement for pardon, and justification unto life. 
 
 (a) Gen. vi. 5. Kom. iil 
 
^28 IGNORANCE'S FAITH ; CHRISTIAN 
 
 l^assctli a judgment upon our ways ; and when the 
 thoughts of our hearts and ways agree with the judg- 
 ment which the word giveth of both, then are both 
 good, because agreeing thereto. 
 
 IcNOR. Make out your meaning. 
 
 Chr. Why the ^vord of God saith, that man's ways 
 are crooked wa)s, not good, but perverse : it saith, 
 they are naturally out of the good \vay, tliat they have 
 not known it. (a) Now when a miin thus thinketh of 
 liis Mays ; I say, when he doth sensibly, and with heart- 
 liumiliation, thus think, then hath he good thoughts 
 of his own ways, because his thoughts now agree with 
 the judgment of the word of God. 
 
 Ignor. What ai-e good thoughts concerning God ? 
 
 Chr. Even, as I have said concerning ourselves, 
 when our thoughts of God do agree with what the 
 ^vord saith of him ; and that is, when we think of his 
 being and attributes as the word hath taught ; of w hich 
 I cannot now discourse at large. But to speak of him 
 in reference to us ; then we have right thoughts of God, 
 when we think that he knows us better than we kno^v 
 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 a\ hen we 
 think that all our righteousness stinks in his nostrils, 
 and that therefore he cannot abide to see us stand be- 
 fore him in any confidence, even in all our best per- 
 formances. 
 
 IfiNOR. Do you think that I am such a fool as to 
 think God can see no further than I ? or that 1 would 
 come to God in the best of my performances ? 
 
 Chr. Why, how dost thou think in this matter ? 
 
 Ignor. Why, to be short, I think I must believe 
 in Christ for justification. 
 
 Chr. How ? think thou must believe in Christ 
 when thou seest not thy need of him ! Thou neither 
 
 («) Ps. cxsv. 5, I'lov. ii. 15, 
 
CONTRASTS IT WITH JUSTIFICATION'. 229 
 
 seest thy original nor actual infirmities ; but hast such an 
 opinion of thyself, and of what thou doest, as plainly 
 renders thee to be one that did never see a necessity of 
 Christ's personal righteousness to justify thee before 
 God.* How then dost thou say, I believe in Christ ? 
 
 Ignor. I believe well enough for all that. 
 
 Chr. How dost thou believe ? 
 
 Ignor. 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, accept- 
 able to his Father by virtue of his merits, and so shall I 
 be justified. t 
 
 Chr. Let us give an answer to this confession of thy 
 
 faith. 
 
 1. Thou belie vest with a fantastical faith ; for this faith 
 is no where described in the word. 
 
 2. Thou believest with a fldse faith; because thou 
 takest justification from the personal righteousness of 
 Christ, and appliest it to thy own. 
 
 3. This faith maketh not Christ a justifier of thy per- 
 son, but of thy actions ; and of thy person for thy ac- 
 tions' 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 fiiith puts the soul, as sensible of its 
 lost condition by the law, upon fleeing for refuge unto 
 Christ's righteousness ; (which righteousness of his is 
 not an act of grace, by which he maketh for justifica- 
 tion, thy obedience accepted of God, but his personal 
 
 * Here we see how naturally the notion of man's righteousness blinds his eyes 
 to, and keeps his heart from believing, that Christ alone justifies a sinner in the 
 sight of God : and yet such talk of believing, but their faith is only fancy. They 
 <lo not believe unto righteousness, but imagine they have now, or shall get a righ- 
 teousness of their own, some how or other. Awful delusion ! 
 
 f Here is the very essence of that delusion which works by a he, and so mucU 
 prevails, and keepsup an unscriptural hope in the hearts of so many professors. 
 Do, reader, study this point well ; for here seems to be a show of scriptural truth, 
 ■while the rankest peison lies concealed in it. For it is utterly subrersive of, and 
 contrary to the faith and hope ol' flie gospel. 
 
2S0 IGNORA.\'CE ANSWERS WITH REPROACHES, 
 
 obedience to the h\v, in doinjj 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 Gf)d, it is accepted, and acquitted from condem- 
 nation.* 
 
 Ignor. What ! Mould you have us trust to what 
 Christ in his own person hath 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 i)y Christ's personal righteousness from 
 all, when we believe it ?(• 
 
 Chr. Ignorance is thy name ; and as thy name is, 
 so art thou ; even this thy answer demonstrateth what 
 I say. Igno7-ant thou art of what justifying righteous- 
 ness is, and as igiio7-ant how to secure thy soul, through 
 the fiith of it, from the heavy wrath of God. Yea, 
 thou also art ignorant of the true effect of saving fiith 
 in this righteousness of Christ, which is to bow and 
 win over the heart to God in Christ, to love his name, 
 his word, ways and people, and. not as thou ignorantly 
 imaginest. 
 
 Hope. Ask him if ever he had Christ revealed to him 
 from heaven 4 
 
 • Under these four lieads, we have a most excellent detection of a presumptive 
 and most dangerous error which now great!}- prevails; as well as a sciiptural view 
 of the n^itnre of true faith, and the object it fixes on wholly and solely for juslifi- 
 eatioii before Goil, and aeceplaiice with God Reader, for thy soul's sake look to 
 thy foundation See that you build upon nothing in self, but all upon that sure 
 foundation wliich God hath laid, even his beloved Son. 
 
 •j- No sooner can yon propose to an ipjnoraut professor, Christ's righteousness 
 aloiii; for justification, but he instantly displays his ignorance of the powcM- of the 
 tr ith, and' the influence of failh. by crying out, " Antinomianisni ! O you are for 
 destvoving holiness at the root, and for bringing in licentiousness like a floo<I." 
 Tb .•^^ priile works by a lie, anri is s:ii)pnrted by self-iighteousness, in opposition 
 to Gotl's graco, and submission to Christ's i ighteousness. I'liisis a spreading heresy 
 of the flesh, wliicli most dioadfullj prevails at this day. Be not deceived. 
 
 * Tl:is, by natural men, is deemed the very height of enthusiasm ; but a spirit- 
 na! '-.i.tn kiiowo l!ie blessedni-ss, and icjoici s in the corafoit of this. It is a close 
 que!.tion ; what may we undei stand by it ? Uoublless, what Caul means, h Ian he 
 Bavs, " It pleased God to reveal liis Sou ia me," Gal. i. 16 ; tUat is, he had such 
 
AND BREAKS OFF THE CONVERSATION. 231 
 
 Ignor, What ! you are a man for revrlations ! I 
 do btiieve that what both you and all the rest ci you 
 sav about that matter, is but the fruit of distracted 
 brains. 
 
 Hope. Why, man ! Christ is so hid in God from the 
 natural apprehensions of the flesh, that he cannot by 
 any man be savingly known, unless God the Father re- 
 veals him to them. 
 
 Ignor. That is your faith, but not mine : yet mine, 
 I doubt not, is as good as yours, though I have not in 
 m}' head so many whimsies as you. 
 
 Chr. Give me leave to put in a word : — you ought 
 not to speak so slightly of this matter : for this I boitUy 
 afiirm (even as my good companion hath done,) that no 
 man can know Jesus Christ but by the revelation ot the 
 Father ; yea, and faith too, by which the soul iuyeth 
 hold upon Christ (if it be right,) must be wrought by 
 the exceeding greatness of his mighty powder \{a) the 
 working oi which faith, I perceive, poor Ignorance, thou 
 art ignorant of. Be awakened then, see thine ovm 
 wretchedness, and flee to the Lord Jesus ; and b}' his 
 righteousness, which is the righteousness of God, (lor 
 he himself is God,; thou shalt be delivered from con- 
 demnation.* 
 
 an internal, spiritual, experimental sight sntl knowledge of Christ, and of salva- 
 tion by him, that his lieart embraced him, his soul cleaved to him, his spiiii re- 
 joiced in him ; his whole man was swallowed up with the love of him, so that he 
 cried out in the joy of his soul. This is my beloved and my friend — my Saviour, 
 my God, and mv salvation Ke is the chief of ten thousand, and altogether love- 
 ly. We know nothing ofChrist savingly, comfortably, and experimentally, till 
 he is pleased thus to reveal himself to us. Matt. xi. '27. This spiritual revela- 
 tion of Christ to the heart, is a blessing and comfort agreeable to, and conse- 
 quent upon, believing on Christ, as revealed outwardly in the word. Therefore 
 every sincere soul should wait and look, and long, and pray for it Bewaievou 
 do not despise it; if you do, you will betray your ignorance of spiritual things as 
 Ignorance did. 
 
 * That sinner is not thorougbly awakened, who does not see his need of 
 Christ's righteousness to be imparted to him. Nor is he qnickened, who has not 
 fled to Christ as the end of the law for righteousness to every one who believed. 
 Rom. X. 4. 
 
 (o) Matt. xi. 27. 1 Cor. xii. 3. Eph. i. IS, 19, 
 
232 CHRISTIAN COMMISERATES IGNORAKCE. 
 
 Ignor. You go so fast, I cannot keep pace with you : 
 do you go on before : 1 must stay a while behind.* 
 Then they said — 
 
 •' Well, Ignorance, wilt thou yet fooliBh be 
 To slight good counsel, ten Umes jiiven thee ? 
 And if thou y«t letuse it, thou shalt kuow, 
 Ere lon^, the evil of thy tloinsj so. 
 Remember, man, in time: stop, do not fear: 
 Good couijsel taken well saves ; therefore hear: 
 But if thou yet shalt sliiiht it, thou wilt be 
 The loser. Ignorance, I'll warrant thee." 
 
 Then Christian addressed himself thus to his fellow : 
 
 Chr. Well, come, my good Hopeful, I perceive that 
 tlioii and I must walk by ourselves again. 
 
 So I saw in my dream, that they went on apace be- 
 fore, and Ignorance, he came hobbling after. Then said 
 Christian to his companion. It pities me much for this 
 poor man : it will certainly go ill with him at last. 
 
 Hope. Alas ! There are abundance in our town in 
 this condition, whole families, yea, whole streets, and 
 that of pilgrims too ; and if there be so many in our 
 parts, how many think } ou must there be in the place 
 where he was born ?t 
 
 Chr. Indeed, the word saith, " he hath blinded their 
 eyes, lest they should see, &c. 
 
 But, now we are by ourselves, what do }'ou think of 
 such men ? have they at no time, think you, convictions 
 of sin, and so consequently fear that their state is dan- 
 gerous ? 
 
 Hope. Nay, do you answer the question yourself, for 
 you are the elder man. 
 
 • Ignorant professors cannot keep pace with spiritual pilgi-ims, nor can tlieV 
 iL-rish tlie doctrines of Christ being all in all, in the maUer of justification nnd 
 salvation. 
 
 t Ignorance had just the same natural notions of salvation wliicli he was bora 
 with, only he had bi-oii taught to dress tluni up hv ihe art of so|ihistry. Honce 
 it is thcy'so much iihouiid' (i ainnng jirnf. sstns in f\er\ agt- <) «liiil a mercy to 
 be delivered from them, to be spiritually enlightcucd aud taught the truth as it is 
 in Jesus ' 
 
THE NATURE AND ADVANTAGB OF RIGHT FEAR. 255 
 
 CiiR. 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 tliem, and presumptuously 
 continue to flatter themselves in the way of their own 
 hearts. 
 
 Hope. I do believe, as you say, that fear tends much 
 to men's good, and to make them right at their begin- 
 ning to go on pilgrimage. 
 
 Chr. Without all doubt it doth, if it he right: fov 
 so says the word, *' The fear of the Lord is the begin- 
 ning of wisdom. "(a) 
 
 Hope. How will you describe right fear ? . 
 
 Chr. True or right fear is discovered by three things : 
 1. By its rise : it is caused by saving convictions for 
 sin. — 2. It driveth the soul to lay fast hold of Christ for 
 salvation. — 3. It begetteth and coniinueth 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 the left, to any thing that may dishonour 
 God, break its peace, grieve the Spirit, or cause the ene- 
 my to speak reproachfully. 
 
 Hope. Well said ; I believe you have said the trutlii. 
 Are we now almost got past the Enchanted Ground ? 
 
 Chr. Why ? art thou weary of this discourse ? 
 
 Hope. No verily, but that I would know where we 
 are. 
 
 Chr. We have not now above two miles further to go 
 thereon. — But let us return to our matter. — Now the 
 ignorant know not that such convictions, that tend to put 
 them in fear, are lor their good, and therefore they seek, 
 to stifle them. 
 
 Hope. How do they seek to stifle them ? 
 
 Chr. I. They think that those fears are wrought 
 by the devil (though indeed they are wrought by God ;) 
 
 (.«) Jeb xxviii. 28. Psal. cxi. IQ. Prer. i, 7. Ik. 10. 
 
 30 
 
234 DISCOURSE CONCERNING TEMPORARY. 
 
 and thinking so, they resist them, as things that direct* 
 ly tend to their overthrow. 2. They also think that these 
 fears tend to the spoiUng 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 7iot 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 ^\ ith all their might. 
 
 Hope. I know something of this myself: before I 
 knew myself, it was so ^vith me.f 
 
 Chr. Well, we will leave, at this time, ourneighbour 
 Ignorance by himself, and fall upon another profitable 
 question. 
 
 Hope. With all my heart : but yoii shall still be- 
 gin. 
 
 Chr. W^ell, then, did you know, about ten years 
 ago, one Temporary in your parts, \vho was a forward 
 man in religion then ? 
 
 Hope. Know him! yes; he dwelt in Graceless, a 
 town about two miles off of Honesty, and he dwelt next 
 door to one Turnback. 
 
 Chr. Right ; he dwelt under the same roof with him. 
 Well, that man was much awakened once ; I believe that 
 then he had some sight of his sins, and of the wages that 
 were due thereto. 
 
 • Pitiful old self-holiness. Mint] this phrase. Far was it from tlie Jicart of 
 good Mr. Runyaii to decry real holiness. 1 suppose he was never charged with it ; 
 if lit- «as, it must be by such who strive to e.\alt their own holiness more than 
 Christ's righteousness; if so, it is pitiful indeed It is nothing but self -holiness, or 
 the holhiess of the old man of sin; for true holiness springs from the behcf of, and 
 love to the truth. All besides tliis onlj tends to sclf-contidencc and self-ap- 
 plause. 
 
 f It is profitable to call to mind one's own ignorance, and natural depravity 
 whi n in our imrenewed estate, to excite humility of heart, and thankfulness ta 
 God, who made us to difttr, and to excite pity towards those who arc walking \\\ 
 nature's pride, self-rijjhteousucss, and sclf-confidciicc. 
 
HOPEFUL'S ACCOUNT OF APOSTACY OF SUCH MEN. 235 
 
 Hope. I am of your mind, (for my house not be- 
 ing above three miles from him) he would oft-times 
 come to me, and that with many tears. Truly I pi- 
 tied the man, and was not altogether without hope of 
 him : but one may see, it is not every one that cries 
 Lord, Lord. 
 
 Chr. He told me once that he was resolved to go ou 
 pilgrimage, as we go now ; but all of a sudden he grew 
 acquainted with one Saveself,* and then he became a 
 stranger to me. 
 
 Hope. Now, since we are talking about him, let us a 
 little inquire into the reason of the sudden backsliding of 
 liim and some others. 
 
 Chr. It may be very profitable ; but do you begin. 
 
 Hope. Well then, there are in my judgment four rea- 
 sons for it. 
 
 1. Though the consciences of such men are awa- 
 kened, yet their minds are not changed : therefore, 
 when the power of guilt weareth away, that which 
 provoketh them to be religious ceaseth : wherefore 
 they naturally return to their old course again : even 
 as we see the dog that is sick of what he hath eaten, 
 so long as his sickness prevails he vomits and casts up 
 all : not that he doeth this of free mind (if we must 
 say a dog hath 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 is it true which is written, "The dog is turned 
 to his own vomit again."(«) Thus, 1 say, being hot 
 for heaven, by virtue only of the sense and fear of the 
 torments of hell, as their sense of hell, and fear of dam- 
 
 • Saveself. This generation greatly abounds among us. Those -who are under 
 this spirit, are strangers to themselves, to tiie trutlis of God's law, and the pro- 
 mises of his gospel, and so consequently are strangers to those who know them- 
 selres to be totally lost ; are dead to every hope of saving themselves, and look 
 only to, and glory only in salvation by Jesus. " Two cannot walk together except 
 tbey be agreed." Amos iii. 5. 
 
 ' (a) 2 Peter ii. 22. 
 
256 THE EFFECTS OF AN UNRENEWED HEART. 
 
 nation, 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 hea- 
 ven and happiness die, and they return to their course 
 again.* 
 
 2. Another reason is, they have slavish fears that do 
 overmaster them : — I s]3eak now of the fears that they 
 have of men : " for the fear of man bringeth a snare. («) 
 So, then, though they seem to be hot for heaven so 
 long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet, 
 when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves 
 to second thoughts, namely, that 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 unavoid- 
 able and unnecessary troubles ; and so they fall in with 
 the world again. 
 
 3. The shame that attends religion lies also as a block . 
 in their way : they are proud and haughty, and religion 
 in their eye is low and contemptible : therefore, when 
 they have lost their sense of hell and wrath to come, they 
 return again to their former course. 
 
 4. Guilt, and to meditate terror, are gi*ievous to them ; 
 tliey like not to see their misery before they come into it ; 
 though perhaps the sight of it first, if they loved that 
 sight, might make them flee whither the righteous 
 flee 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. 
 
 Chr. You are pretty near the business; for the 
 bottom of all is, for want of a change in their mind and 
 will. And therefore they are but like the felon that 
 standeth before the judge ; he quakes and trembles, and 
 
 • A true description of the state of too many professors. Here sec the reason 
 ^yhy so many saints, as tlicy are called, fall away. 
 
 (o) Prov. uij(. 25. 
 
eHR!i5TIAN SHOWS HOW THEY DRAW BACK. 237 
 
 seems to repent most heartily : but the bottom of all is, 
 the fear of the halter ; not that he hath any detestation of 
 the offences ; as is evident, because, let but this man 
 have his liberty, and he will be a thief, and so a rogue 
 still ; whereas, if his mind was changed, he would be 
 otherwise. 
 
 Hope. Now I have showed you the reasons of their 
 going back, do you show me the manner thereof. 
 
 C'hr. So I will willingly. — They draw off their 
 thoughts, all that they may^ from the remembrance of 
 God, death, and judgment ' to come: — then they cast 
 off by degrees private duties, as closet-prayer, curbing 
 their lusts, watching, soitow for sin, &:c. — then they 
 shun the company of lively and warm Christians : — after 
 that they grow cdd to public duty : as hearing, reading, 
 godly conference, and the like ; — then they begin to 
 pick holes, as we say, in the coats of some of the 
 godly, and that devilishly, that they may have a seem- 
 ing colour to* throw religion (for the sake of some in- 
 firmities they have spied in them) behind their backs : 
 — then they begin to adhere to, and associate themselves 
 with carnal, loose, and wanton men : — 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. — After this, they begin to play 
 with little sins openly : — and then, being hardened, they 
 show themselves as they are. Thus, being launched 
 again into the gulf of misery, unless a miracle of grace 
 ffrevent it, they everlastingly perish in their own de- 
 ceivings.* 
 
 * See how gradually, step by step, apostates jjo back It beg;ins in the unbelief 
 of the heart, and ends in open sins in the life. Why is the love of this world 
 60 forbidden ? why is covetousness called idolatry ? Because, whatever draws 
 away the heart from God, and prevents enjoying close fellowship with him, natural- 
 ly tends to apostacy from him . Look well to your hearts and aftections. Daily 
 learn to obey that command, "Keep thy heart with all diligence, for out of it are 
 the issues of life." Prov. iv. 23. If you neglect to watch, you will be sure to smart: 
 Under the sense of sin on earth, or its curse in hell. " See then that ye walk cir- 
 cumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time because the davs arc 
 ftvil." Eph. T. \5. 
 
238 THEY ARRIVE AT THE COUNTRY OF DEULAil. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS TRAVEL THE PLEASANT COUNTRY OF BEUL\H. 
 SAFELY I'ASS TME RIVER OF DEATH, AND ARE ADMITTED 
 INTO THE GLORIOUS CITY OF GOD. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that by this time the pil- 
 grims \vere got over the Enchaiited Ground, and cntcr- 
 in[^ into the country of Beulah,(fi) whose air was very 
 sweet and pleasant, the way lying directly through it, 
 they solaced themselves there for a season. Yea, here 
 they heard continually the singing of birds, and saw 
 every day the flowers appear in the earth, and heard 
 the voice of the turtle in the land. In this country rhe 
 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 shiniug ones commonly walked, because 
 it was upon the borders of heaven. In this land also 
 the contract between the bride and the bridegroom was 
 rene\vcd : yea, here, " as the bridegroom rejoiceth 
 over the bride, so did their God rejoice over them." 
 Here they had no want of corn and wine ; for in this 
 place they met with abundance of what they had sought 
 for in all their pilgrimage. Here they lieiu'd voices from 
 out of the city, loud voices saying, *' Say ye to the 
 
 " O what a b'cssed state! what a glorious frame of the soul is this! Job 
 speaks of it as tlie candle of the Lord sliiuing upon liis head, ch. xxix. 5. The 
 »!iiirch, in a rapture cries out, " Sing O licavens, and be joyful, O earth; break 
 forth into sinpiiiig;. O mountains, for the Lord liath eomloited his people," Isa. 
 x\ii. 13. Paul calls this " the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of jteace," 
 Rom XV. 29. O rest not short of enjoying the full blaze of gospel peace, and 
 spiritual joy. 
 
 (a) Sell. Song. ii. 10—12. Ra. Isii. •»— 12. 
 
THE HLGRIMS OVERCOME WITH JOY. 239 
 
 daughter of Zion, Behold, thy Salvation cometh ! Be- 
 hoid, his reward is with him !" Here all the inhabitants 
 of the country called them " The holy people, the Re- 
 deemed of the Lord, Sought out," — &:c. 
 
 Now, as they walked in this land, they had more re- 
 joicing than hi parts more remote from the kingdom to 
 which they were bound ; and drawling near to the city 
 they had yet a mor-e perfect view thereof. It v/as build- 
 ed of pearls and precious stones, also the streets thereof 
 were paved with gold ; so that, by reason of the natural 
 glory of the city, and the reflection of the sun-beams 
 upon it, Christian with desire lell sick, Hopeful also 
 had a fit or two of the same disease : wherefore here 
 they lay by it a while, crying out because of their 
 pangs, " If you see my Beloved, tell him that I am sick 
 of love."* 
 
 But, being a little strengthened, and better able to 
 bear their sickness, they walked on their way, and came 
 yet nearer and nearer, where were orchards, vineyards, 
 and gardens, and their gates opened into the high- 
 way. Now, as they came up to these places, behold 
 the gardener stood in the 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 pil- 
 grims." So the gardener had them into the vineyards, 
 and bid them refresh themselves with the dainties ; (a) 
 he also showed them there the King's walks and ar- 
 bours, where he delighted to be : and here they tarried 
 and slept. 
 
 • See what it is to long for the full fruition of Jesus in glory. Some have been 
 so overpowered hereby, that their eartheu vessels were ready to burst : their frail 
 bodies have been so overcome, that they have cried, Loril, hold thine ha.>d J 
 faint, I sink, 1 die, with a full sense of thy precious, precious love. Covet ear- 
 nestly this best gift. Love. Lord, shed it raore abundautly abroad in th*se cold 
 fee.''.rts of ours ! 
 
 (a) Dent, xxiii. 25. 
 
240 THE GLORY OF THE CITY. 
 
 Now I beheld in my dream, that they talked more in 
 their sleep at this time than ever they did in all their jour- 
 ney ; and, beini^ in a muse thereabout, the gardener 
 said even to me, " Wherefore musest thou at the matter? 
 It is the nature of the grapes of these vineyards, to go 
 down so sweetly as to cause the lips of them that are 
 asleep to speak." 
 
 So I saw that when they awoke, they addressed them- 
 selves to go up to the city. But, as I said, the reflec- 
 tion of the sun upon the city (for the city was pure 
 gold) (a) was so extremely glorious, that they could not 
 as \et with open face behold it, but through an instru- 
 ment made for that purpose. So I saw that as they went 
 on there met them two men in raiment that shone like 
 gold, also their faces shone as the light. 
 
 These men asked the pilgrims \\ hence they came ? and 
 they told them. They also asked them where they had 
 lodged, what difficulties and dangers, \vhat comforts and 
 pleasures, they had met with in the ^vay ? and they told 
 them. Then said the men that met them, " You have 
 but two difficulties more to meet with, iuid then you iire 
 in the city."* 
 
 Christian then and his companion asked the men to go 
 along w ith them : so they told them the) would : But, 
 said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I 
 saw in my dream, that they went on together till they 
 came in sight of the gate. 
 
 Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate 
 was a river ; but there was no bridge to go over : the 
 river was very deep. At the sight therefore of this 
 ri\'er, the pilgrims were much stunned ; but the mei> 
 
 • AVh:»t are tlicse two diflRcultics ? are they not death withont, and unbelief 
 williin ? It is llirougli the laltor, that tlic; tormi-r is at all distressing to us. O lor .1 
 stroiii; Morld-coiKHieiiiig, siii-subduing;, death-overcoming faith, in life and death ! 
 .lisiis, Master, 8[)eak the word, unbelief shall flee, our faith sliall not fail, and ouV 
 hope sluill be steady, 
 
 (a) Rev. xxi. 18. 2 Cor. iii. \^4 
 
CHRISTIAN ALMOST LOST m THE RIVER. 24 X 
 
 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 founda- 
 tion of the world, nor shall until the last trumpet shall 
 sound." The pilgrims then (especially Christian) began, 
 to despond in their minds, 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 iu 
 the King of the place."! 
 
 They then addressed themselves to the water, and 
 entering. Christian began to sink, and crying out to his 
 good friend Hopeful, he said, " 1 sink in deep ^vaters ; 
 billows go over my head, all his waves go over me. 
 Selah.'^ 
 
 Then said the other, "Be of good cheer, my bro- 
 ther ; I feel the bottom, and it is good." Then said 
 Christian, " Ah ! my friend, the sorrow of death hath 
 compassed me about, I shrill not see the land that flows 
 with milk and honey." And with that a great darkness 
 and hoiTor fell upon Christian, so that he could not see 
 
 • Well ; DOW the pilgrims must meet with, and encounter their last enemy, 
 ijeath. When he stares thera in the face, their fears arise. Through the river 
 they must go. What have they to look at P what they are in themselves, or what 
 they have done raul beeu ? No ; only the same Jesus who oonijuered death for us» 
 and can and will overcome the fear of death in us. 
 
 ■)■ Faith builds a hridge across tlie gulf of death. 
 Death's terror is the mountain faith removes. 
 'Tis faith disarms destruction ; and absolves 
 From every clamorous charge the guiltless tomb. 
 
 For, faith views, trusts in, and relies upon the word of Christ, fop salvation in the 
 victor}' of Christ over sin, death, and hell. Therefore, in every thing we shall 
 always prove the truth of our Lord's words, " According to your faith be it unto 
 you." Matt. ix. 29. O what support in death, to have Jesus our triumphant con- 
 i^ueror to look unto, who has disarmed death of his sting, and swallowed up death 
 ;t» his victory ! 
 
 31 
 
242 HOPEFUL ENCOURAGES CHRISTIAN. 
 
 before him. Also, he in a great measure lost his sen- 
 ses, 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 pilgriiiiage. But all the 
 words that he spake, 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 bro- 
 ther's head above water ; yea, sometimes he \vould be 
 quite gone down, and then, ere a \vhile, would rise up 
 again half dead. Hopeful did also endeavour to com- 
 fort him, sa} ing, " Brother, I see the gate, and men 
 standing by to receive us ;" but Christian would an- 
 swer, " It IS you, it is you they wait lor ; you have been 
 Hopeful ever since I knew you." " And so have you," 
 said he to Christian. " Ah, brother," said he, " surely 
 if 1 w as right he would now rise to help me ; but for 
 my sins he hath brought me into the snare, and hath left 
 me." Then said Hopeful, " My brother, you liave 
 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.' These troubles and 
 distresses that you go through in these waters, are no 
 sign that God hath forsaken you ; but are sent to try 
 
 • What! after all tlic past, blessed experience, that Christian had enjoyed of his 
 Lord's peace, love, jov, aiiil presence with him, his holy transports and heuveniy 
 consolations, is all come to this at last f You know " the last enemy that shall be 
 debiroyeil is death." 1 Cor. xv. '^6. Satan is sometimes suffered to be ver} busy 
 * itb Gntl's people in their last momenis, but he too, like death, is a cofKinereil 
 enemy b\ our Jesus; therefore amidst all his attacks, they are safe. I'or he i> 
 lailiit'id to them, and almighty to save thera. 
 
CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL HAYING PASSED 
 TTIE lllVEIl, ARE RECEIVED BY THE 
 MINISTERING SPIRITS. 
 
THEIR MORTAL GARMENTS LEFT IN THE RIVER. 243 
 
 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 Hopeful added these words, 
 " Be of arood 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." \a) — 
 Then they both took coiu'age, and the enemy was after 
 that as still as a stone, initil they were gone over. 
 Christian therefore presently found ground to stand 
 upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river ^vas 
 but shallow ; but 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 diem. Where- 
 fore being come out of the river, they saluted them, 
 saying, " We are ministering spirits, sent forth to min- 
 ister to those that shall be heirs of salvation." Thus 
 they went along towards the gate. — Now you must 
 note, that the city stood upon a mighty hill, but the 
 pilgrims went up the hill with ease, because they had 
 these two men to lead them up by the arms : also they 
 had left their mortal garments behind them in the river ; 
 for though they went in with them, they came out 
 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 
 
 • Jesus Christ, he is indeed the Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, the 
 beginning of our hope, and the end of our confidence. We begin and end the 
 Christian pilgrimage with him ; and all our temptations and trials speak loudly, 
 and fully coufirin to us that truth of our Lord, " Without me ye can do nothing.'' 
 Jelyi XV. 5, 
 
 (a) Jsa. xliii, 2. * 
 
244 THEY TALK "WITH THE SHINING ONES: 
 
 they safely got over the rher, and had such glorious 
 companions to attejid them.* 
 
 The talk that they had ^vith 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 Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the in- 
 numeral )lc company of angels, and the spirits of just 
 men made perfect, "(c) You are going now, said they, 
 to the Paradise of God, wherein } ou 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 CAcry day with the 
 King, even all the days of eternity. (/>) There you sliall 
 not see again such things as }ou saw when you were in 
 the lower region upon the earth, to wit, soitow, sick- 
 ness, affliction, and death ; " for the former things are 
 passed away. "(c) You are now going to Abraham, to 
 Isaac, and to 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 recei\'e the comforts of all your toil, and 
 liave joy for all } our sorrow ; you must reap what you 
 have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, 
 and sufterings for the King by the way.((/) In that 
 place you must wear cro\vns of gold, and enjoy the 
 peq)etual sight and vision of the Holy One ; for 
 " there you shall see him as he is."(<?) There also you 
 shall serve him continually with praise, \vith shouting 
 
 * All, chilflren, none can conceive or describe what it is to live in a state free 
 from tlie bo<ly of" sin anil <lcath. Some in sucli liapjty, liiglily-favoured moments, 
 liave i>ad a glimpse, a foietaste of tliis, and could realize it bv faith. O for more 
 and niitre of this, till we jiossess and enjoy it in all its fuhu-ss. If Jesus be so 
 sweet i)y faith below, uho can toll what he is in full fruition above? This we mus; 
 die to know. 
 
 (a) Hcb. xii. 22—24. (b) Rev. U. 7. iii. 4. sxii. 5. (c) Isa, L\v. If. 
 
 (Jj Gal. VI. 7, 8. (0 1 Johu iU. 3. 
 
ARE MET AND WELCOArED BY THE HEAVENLY HOST. 245 
 
 mid thanksgiving, whom you desired to serve in the 
 world, though with much difficulty, because of the in- 
 firmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be de- 
 lighted with seeing, and your ears with hearing, the 
 pleasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall 
 enjoy your friends again that are gone thither before 
 you ; and there you shall with joy receive, even every 
 one that follows into the holy place after you. There 
 also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and 
 put 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, ^vhen 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 in- 
 iquity, 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.(G!) 
 
 Now, while they were thus dra^ving to^vards 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."(^) 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 
 
 (a) I Thesa. iv. 13—17. Jude I4, 15. Dan. vii. 9, 10. 1 Cor. vi. 2, C. 
 (6) Rev. 2UX. 9. 
 
246 THEIR INEXPRESSIBLE JOY. 
 
 ten thousand welcomes from the world ; and this they did 
 ivith shouting, and sound of trumpet. 
 
 This done, they compassed them round on every 
 side ; some went before, some behind, and some on 
 the right hand, some on the left, (as it were to guard 
 them througli the upper region,) continually sounding 
 as they went, with melodious noise, in notes on high ; 
 so that the ver\' sight A\as 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 \\alk- 
 ed, 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 ho^v 
 ivelcome they ^vere into their company, and with what 
 gladness they came to meet them. And now were these 
 two men, as it were, in hea^ en, before they came at it, 
 being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with 
 hearing tlieir melodious notes. Here also the}- 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, \vhen they xvere come up to the gate, tliere was 
 written over it, in letters of gold, " Blessed are they 
 
 • Though Mr. Biinyan lias been very liappy in this spirited description, (ob» 
 serves the Ue\. Mr. Mason,) yet vert- he alive, 1 am sine he would not be oflend- 
 cd, though 1 were to say, it' is short and faint, infinitely so of the reality ; and 
 vere he permitted to come in person, and give another descn[ition, he could only- 
 say, what the prophet and apostle tell us, " Eye liath not seen, nor car heard, 
 jieithcr have entered into the heart of man, thc'things which God hath prepared 
 for thera who love iiim." Isa. Ixiv. 4. 1 Cor. ii. 9. O for the increase of faith, to 
 heholtl more clear the heavenly vision ; and for love to Jesus, the God of our 
 Mlvation, that we may have more of heaven in our souls, even while we are pd- 
 Rjims here- on the cartU. Tor none but those v ho love him ou earth, can cnjoj 
 him iu heaven. 
 
THEY ENTER THE CITY, AND ARE CROWNED. 247 
 
 that do his commandments, that they may have right* to 
 the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into 
 
 the city/'C^) 
 
 Then 1 saw in my dream, tliat the shining men bid 
 them call at the gate : the which when they did, some 
 from above looked over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Mo- 
 ses, and Elias, &c. to whom it -was said, " These pil- 
 grims are come from the city of Destruction, for the love 
 that they bear to the King of this place ;" and then the 
 pilgrims gave in unto them each man his certificate, 
 which they had received in the beginning : those there- 
 fore were carried in 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 truth may en- 
 ter in."t(^) 
 
 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 honour. — 
 Then I heard in my dream, that all the bells in the city- 
 rang again for joy, and that it was said unto them. 
 
 * Right here signifies, power or privilege, as in John i. 12. " To as many as 
 receive Christ, lo them gave he power, ri^;lit, or privilege, to become the sons of 
 God, even to them who beUeve in his name." 
 
 ■j- The righteous nation, who are they i" O say the self-righteous pharisees of the 
 day, they are those, who by their good works and righteous actions hate made 
 themselves to differ from others, and are thus become righteous before God. To 
 whom shall the Lonl command the gate of glory to be opened but to tiiese o-ooti 
 righteous people I But Peter tells us, " The righteous nation is a chosen genera- 
 lion," from ar^ong the world, are of a different generation to them. They see 
 BO righteousness in themselves, and therefore are little, low, and mean in theii' 
 own eyes; being begotten by the word of truth, and Itora again of the Spirit 
 they receive and love the truth as it is in Jesus. By this truth they reoulate 
 their life and walk ; and this truth they hold fast in life, and keep unto death • 
 and thus living and dying in the belief of the truth, the; can say with Paul, '• I 
 have kt'pt the faith, and henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of rio-htcous- 
 ness, which the Lord the righteous judge will give me, and to all who love bW 
 aiipearing." 
 
 (fl) Rev. xxii. IJ. (-*) Isa. xsyPt, 25 
 
248 ICXORANCE FEUKIED O^-EH BY VAIN-HOPB. 
 
 '' Enter )e into the joy of your Lord." I also heard the 
 men themsehes, that they sang with a loud voice, say- 
 ing, " Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be 
 to him that sittcth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for 
 ever and ever."(rt) 
 
 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 \vere also of them that had wings, and they an- 
 swered 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 \\'ished 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 that difficulty ^vhich the other two men 
 met with. For it happened that there was then in that 
 place one Vain-hope,* a ferry-man, that with his boat 
 helped him over : so he, as the otlier 1 saw, did ascend 
 the hill, to come up to the gate ; only he came alone ; 
 neither did any man meet him with the least encour- 
 agement. When he was come up to the gate, he 
 looked up to the writing that was above, and then be- 
 gan to knock, supposing that entrance should have 
 been quickly administered to him : but he was asked 
 by the man that looked over the top of the gate, 
 " Whence come you ? and what w ould you have '?" 
 He answered, " I have eat and drank, in the presence 
 
 • Vain-liopc ever dwells in the bosom of fools, and is ever rendy to assist Ig- 
 norance, lie wanted him :it tlie last, anil he found him. lie had been liis com- 
 panion tluonr;l» life, :iiid will not forsake him in the liour of death. Yon see 
 iKiiorante hail no bands in liis death ; no fears» doubts, and sorrow 9, no terror 
 trom the enemy, but all apjjeared serene and happy. Vain-hope was his fen-y- 
 inan, and he, as the good folks say, «lied like a lamb ; ah, but did such lambs see. 
 what was to follow, when Vain-hope had wafted them over the river, thov v.nt\\^ 
 Xwv hke lions. 
 
 (a) Rev. r. 13, 1 i. 
 
IGNORANCE IS CARRIED BACK TO HELL. 249 
 
 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, You have 
 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 cuiTied him through 
 the air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and 
 put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to 
 hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the 
 city of Destruction. f — So I awoke, and beheld it was a 
 dream. 
 
 • Hence see, that ignorant, vain confident professors, may keep up a profes- 
 sion, even unto the end ; 3'ea, and maintain a self-righteous hope to the very last, 
 without anj- internal operation of the Spirit upon their hearts, quickening them to 
 a life of faith on the Son of God. Such when they are called upon for their cer- 
 tificate, find themselves destitute of one. They set out in nature, and have no- 
 thing more about them than what their natural notions furnish them with. Spirit- 
 ual revelations of Christ to the heart, through faith in the word, they despised : 
 and therefore, when searched to the bottom, behold they are speechless They 
 could talk of their moral powers faithfulness in life, but they have not one word 
 to say of precious Christ, and his full salvation ; what he hath wrought in them, 
 "whereby he becomes altogether lovely in their eyes ; and his truths, promises, antl 
 commands, the choice, the delight, and the gloi-y of their hearts. O without this^ 
 the profession of being a pilgrim will end in awfui delusion ! 
 
 f This is a most awful conclusion. Consider it deeply. Weigh it attentively, so 
 as to get good satisfaction from the word, to these important questions. Am I in 
 Christ the -way, the only way to the kingdom, or not i" IJo I see tliat all other 
 ways, whether of sin or self-righteousness, lead to hell ? Does Christ dwell in ray 
 heaft by faith ?• Am I a new creature in him? Do I renounce my own righteous- 
 ness, as well as abhor my sins ? Do I look to Christ alone for mercy, and depend 
 only on him for holiness ? Is he the onl_\ hope of my soul, and the only confidence 
 of my heart? And do I desire to be found in him, knowing by the word, and feel- 
 ing by the teaching of his Spirit, that 1 am totally lost in myself? Thus is Christ 
 formed in me, the only hope of glory ? Do I study to please him, as well as hope 
 to enjoy him ? Is fellowship with God the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ, so 
 prized by me, as to seek it and to esteem it above all things ? If so, though I may 
 find all things in nature, in the world, and from Satan continually oj)posiiig this, 
 yet I am in Christ the loay, and he is in me the truth and the lifi:, I am one with 
 him, and he is one with me. 
 
 32 
 
THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 iNow Reader, I have told my dream to thee. 
 Sec ir thou canst interpret it to me, 
 Or to thyself, or neighbour ; but take heed 
 Of misinterpreting ; for that, instead 
 Oi 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 tliee into a laughter, or a feud : 
 y 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 here, be bold 
 To throw away, but yet preserve the gold. 
 What if my gold be wTapped up in ore? 
 None throw away the apple for the core. 
 But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, 
 I kno^v not but 'twill make me dream again. 
 
 End of the first part. 
 
CHRISTIAKA PREVAILS WITH HER CHILDREN 
 TO r.O ON PILGRIMAGE. 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS 
 
 FROM THIS WORLD 
 
 TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. 
 
 SEUVXRED 
 
 UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. 
 
 PART THE SECOJVD. 
 
 WHEREIK IS SET FORTH THE MANNER OIP 
 
 THE SETTING OUT OP 
 
 CnniSTIAJ^'S WIFE JiJTD childre;^'; 
 
 THEIR DANGEROUS JOURNEY, AND SAFE ARRIVAL 
 AT XHB DESIRED COUNTRY. 
 
 BY JOHN BUNYAN. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, DIVIDED INTO CHAPTERS, 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 EXPLANATORY AND PRACTICAL NOTES. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH ELEGANT ENGRAVINGS. 
 I— ;^K-: — 
 
 JVEWARK, JV. J. 
 PUBLISHED BY BENJAMIN OLDS. 
 
 ?. AND E. SANDERSON, PRINTERS, ELIZABETH-TOWN. 
 
 3818. 
 
THE 
 
 AUTHOR'S PREFACE 
 
 TO THE 
 
 SECOND PART. 
 
 VJo now, my little book, to every place, 
 W here my First Pilgrim has but shown his face; 
 Call at their door; If any say, Who's there? 
 Tfieo answer thou, Christiana is here. 
 If they bid thee come in, then enter thou, 
 With all thy boys: and then thou knowest how; 
 Tell who they are, also from whence they came ; 
 Perhaps they know them b> 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 deligiited in his way, 
 Then let them know, that those related were 
 Unto him ; yea, bis 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 trode on serpents, fought with devils ; 
 Have also overcome as many evils. 
 Yea, tell them also of the next who have. 
 Of love to pilgrimage, been stout and brave 
 Defenders of that Avay ; and how they still 
 Refuse this world, to do their Father's will. 
 
 Go, tell them also of those dainty things, 
 That pilgrimage unto the Pilgrims brings : 
 Let them acquainted he too, how they are 
 Beloved of the King, under his care ; 
 What goodly mansions he for them provides, 
 Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides; 
 "Eow brave a calm they will enjoy at last, 
 Who to the Lord, and to his ways hold fast. 
 
254 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace 
 Thee, as thry did my firstlinj. and will grace 
 Thee and thy fellows with good 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 brought themselves into 
 The hands and houses of I know not vt^ho ? 
 
 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 e'er they are. 
 
 If such thou mcet'st with, then thine only way, 
 Before them all, is to say out thy say. 
 In tliine own native language, which no mau 
 ]Sow useth, or wllh ease dissemble can. 
 If, after all, they still of you shall dcubt, 
 Thinking that you like gypsies go about, 
 In naughty ways, the country to defile; 
 Or that you seek good people to beguile 
 AVhh things unwarrantable, — send for me. 
 And I will testify you Pilgrims be ; 
 Yea, I will testily that only you 
 My Pilgrims are, and that alone will do. 
 
 OBJECTION II. 
 But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him. 
 Of those that with 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 
 Arc nothing else but ground for groundless fears, 
 My Pilgrim's book has travell'd sea and land, 
 Yet could I never come to understand 
 That it was slighted, or turn'd out of door. 
 By any kingdom, were they rich or poor. 
 
 lii F'lance and FitvrKler.s, where men kill each other, 
 My Pilgrim is estccm'd a friend, a brother. 
 
PEEFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 255 
 
 In Holland too, 'tis said, as I aru told, 
 My Pilgrim is, with sonte, worth more than gold. 
 
 Kigh'anders and wild Irish can agree 
 My Pilgrim should famiiiar with them be. 
 'Tis in JSew-Eno;land under such advance, 
 Receives there so much loving countenance. 
 As to be trimmM, new cloth'd and deck'd with gems, 
 That it may show its teatures and its limbs. 
 Tel more ; so public doih my Pilgrim walk, 
 That of him thousands daily sing and talk. 
 
 It you draw nearer home, it will appear, 
 M) Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear: 
 City and country both will enltrtain, 
 With welcome. Pilgrim; yea they can't refrain 
 From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by, 
 Or shows his head in auy company. 
 
 Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and lovci 
 Esteem it much ; yea, value it above 
 Things of a greater bulk; yea, with delight 
 Say. my lark's leg is better than a kite. 
 
 Young ladies, and young gentlemen too, 
 Do no small kindness to ray Pilgrim show : 
 Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, 
 M) Pilgrim has, 'cause he to them imparts 
 His pretty riddles, in such wholesome strains, 
 As yields them profit double to their pains 
 Of reading ; yea, I think 1 may be bold 
 To say, some prize him far above their gold. 
 The very children that do Avalk 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 beard of him, and much desire 
 To have his company, and hear him tell 
 Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. 
 Yea, some that did not love him at the first. 
 But call'd him fool and noddy, say they must, 
 Now they have seen and heard him, him commend ; 
 And to those whom they iove, they do him send. 
 
 Wherefore, ray Second Part, thou need'st not be 
 Afraid to show thy head : none can hurt thee, 
 Thiit wish but well to liiir that went before ; 
 'Cause thou com'st after with a second store 
 
25(3 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, 
 
 For young, for old, for slagg'riiitj, and for stable. 
 
 OBJECTION HI. 
 But some there be that sa^ , he laugiis io6 loud ; 
 Aud some do sa) , his head is iu a cloud. 
 Some say, his words and stories are so dark, 
 They kuow not how by them to find his mark. 
 
 ANSWER. 
 
 One may (I think) say, botli his laughs and criea 
 May well be guess'd at by his wat'ry eyes. 
 Some things are of that uature as to make 
 One's fancy chuckle, whde his heart doth ache; 
 When Jacob saw his Hachel with the sheep, 
 He did at the same time both kiss and weep. 
 
 Whereas some say, A cloud is iu his head, 
 That doth but show his wisdom's covered 
 With his owu mantle ; and to stir the mind 
 To search well after what it laiu would find. 
 Things that seem to be hid lu vvords obscure. 
 Do but the godly mind the more allure. 
 To study what those sayings should coiitaiu, 
 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 (iiscouragement 
 Hinder thy travels : behold ! thou art sent 
 To friends, not foes; to friends that will n've place 
 To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy woids embrace. 
 
 Besides, what my first Pilgrim left couceal'd. 
 Thou, my brave second Pilgrim hast reveai'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 1 should meet with such, what should I say? 
 Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay l* 
 
 ANSWER 
 My Christiana, if with such thou meet, 
 By all means, iu all loving wise, them greet; 
 Render them not reviling for revile ; 
 But if t!u.y frown, I pr'ythee ou them smile : 
 
PEEFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 257 
 
 Perhaps 'lis 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 thej 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 that thou shalt show them may be bless'd 
 To them for good, and make them choose to be 
 Pilgrims by better far than thee and me. 
 Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art ; 
 Say, I am Christiana, and ray 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 neighbour Mercy ; she is one 
 That has long time with me a Pilgrim gone ; 
 Come, see her in her virgin face, and learu 
 'Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. 
 Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize 
 The world which is to come, in any wise. 
 When little tripping maidens follow God, 
 And leave old doating sinners to his rod, 
 'Tis like those days, wherein the young ones cryM 
 Hosanua ! 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 grey head this may prevail 
 With Christ to fall in love, and sin bewail. 
 
 Tell them also, how Mr. 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 mnnj and doth life inherit. 
 
258 PREFACE TO THE SECOND PART. 
 
 Tell them of Mr. Feeble-miod also, 
 "Who uot before, but still behiad would go : 
 Show them also, how he'd like t' have beeu slaio, 
 Aud how one Great-liearl did his life regain.. 
 This man was true of heart, though weak in grace ; 
 Oue might trut- godliuesg read in his lace. 
 
 Then tell them of Mi. Ready-to-halt, 
 A man with crutches, but much without fault : 
 Tell them how Mr. Feeble-mind and he 
 Did love, aiid in opinion much agree ; 
 Aud let all know, though weakness was their chaoce^ 
 Yet sometimes oue would sing, the other dance. 
 
 Forget not Mr. Valiant-for-the-truth, 
 That man of courage, though a very youth. 
 Tell every one his spirit was so stout, 
 !No oue could «-ver make him face about ; 
 And how Great-heart and he could not forbear. 
 But put down Doubting Casile ; slew Despair ! 
 
 Overlook not Mr. Despondency, 
 Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though »hey 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, ray 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 couch'd within thy breast^ 
 Freely propound, expound, aud for the rest 
 Of my 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. 
 Y» a, may this Second Pilgrim yield that fruit 
 A.S may with each good Pilgrim's fancy suit, 
 And maj' it some persuade that go astray. 
 To turn their feet and heart to the right way. 
 
 Is the hearty prayer of the Author, 
 
 JOHN BUN VAN 
 
THE 
 
 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHRISTIANA WITH HER FOUR SONS, AND A NEIGHBOUR, SEX 
 OUT ON PILGRIMAGE. 
 
 COURTEOUS COMPAJVIOJ^S, 
 
 Some time since, to tell you a 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 5 
 for he durst not run the danger of that destruction, 
 which he feared would come by staying with them in 
 
 * Though the second part of the Pilgrim's Progress will not strike the readci' 
 ■with the novelty of the first, because the same scenes are repeated ; yet they are 
 presented with such agreeable variations, as make it an equal source of profit and 
 delight. The author explains, in this part, what was left more dark in the first, 
 as he tells us in his Preface. On this account the Explanatory Notes will be brief 
 on those parts already noticed, while the newer matter will be more largely im- 
 proved. The second part is peculiarly adapted to direct and encourage female 
 Christians, and young persons; and it is hoped, will be particularly attended to by 
 such. It is perliaps needless to remark, that no reasonable doubt can be enter- 
 tained as to the authenticity of this work : Mr. Bunyan cannot bt- imit^teil ; and 
 the sweet sijapUcity that characterizes the first part, is equally obvious in the 
 
260 SAGACITY'S ACCOUNT OF THE CITY OF DESTRUCTION. 
 
 the city of Destruction : wherefore, as I then showed 
 yon, he left them, and departed. 
 
 Now it hath so happened, through the muUipUcity 
 of business, that I have been much hindered and kept 
 back from my wonted tra\'els into those parts where he 
 went, and so could not, till no\\-, obtain an opportunity 
 to make further inquiry after whom he left behind, that 
 I might give you an account of them. But, having 
 had some concerns that way of late, 1 went down again 
 thitherward. Now having taken up my lodging in a 
 wood, about a mile off the place, as 1 slept 1 dreamed 
 again. 
 
 And, as I \\as in my dream, behold an aged gentleman 
 came by where I lay ; and because he \vas to go some 
 part of the way that I was travelling, methought I got 
 up and went with him. So, as we walked, and as tra- 
 vellers usually do, I was as if we fell into a discourse, 
 and our talk happened to be about Christian and his tra- 
 vels : for thus 1 began with the old man : 
 
 Sir, said I, What town is that there below, that lieth 
 on the left hand of our way ? 
 
 Then said Mr. Sagacity, (for that was his name,) It 
 is the city of Destruction, a populous place, but pos- 
 sessed with a very ill-conditioned and idle sort of peo- 
 ple. 
 
 I thought that u^as that city, (juoth I ; I went once 
 myself through that town ; and therefore I know diat 
 this report you give of it is true. 
 
 Sag. Too true ! I wish I could speak truth in speak- 
 ing better of them that dwell therein. 
 
 Well, Sir, quoth I, then 1 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 } ou never hear what 
 hajipened to a man some time ago in this town (whose 
 nanie was Cliristian,) that went on a pilgrimage up to. 
 ^\ards the higher regions ? 
 
REPORTS CIRCULATED CONCERNING CHRISTIAN. 261 
 
 Sag. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the 
 molestations, troubles, wars, captivities, cries, groans, 
 frights, and fears, that he met with and had on his 
 journey. Besides, I must- tell you, all our country 
 rings of him ; there are but few houses, that have heard 
 of him and his doings, but have sought after and got 
 the records of his pilgrimage : yea, I think I may say, 
 that this 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 it is said he lives bravely 
 where he is : vea, 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 labour and sorrow, for there is no grief mix- 
 ed therewith. But pray, what talk have the people about 
 him. 
 
 Sag. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him : 
 some say, that he now walks in white ;(«) that he has 
 a chain of gold about his neck ; that he has a crown 
 of gold, beset with pearls, upon his head : others say, 
 that the shining ones that sometimes showed them- 
 selves to him in his journey, are become his compan- 
 ions, and that he is as familiar with them in the place 
 ^vhere he is, as here one neighbour is w iih another.(<^) 
 Besides, it is confidently affirmed concerning him, mat 
 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 walk- 
 
 * This is quite natural and veiT common. The men of this world will canonize 
 those for saints, when dead, whom they stigmatized with the vilest names when 
 living. O let us leave our characters to Him, who died for our sius, and to whom 
 ■jve can commit our souls. 
 
 {a) Rev. iii. 4. vi. U. {h) Zech. iii. T. 
 
262 LVQUTRTES CONCERNING CHRISTIAN'S P\M1LY. 
 
 eth, and talketh with him, and receiveth the smiles and 
 favours of him that is Judge of ail there. Moreover, 
 it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of 
 that country, will shortly come into these parts, and 
 will know^ the reason, if they can give any, why his 
 neighbours set so little by him, and had him so much 
 in derision, when they perceived that he would be a 
 pilgrim, (a) 
 
 *For they say, that now he is so in the affections of 
 his Prince, and that his Sovereign is so much concern- 
 ed with the indignities that were cast upon Christian, 
 when he became a pilgrim, that he will look upon all 
 as if done to himself: and no marvel, for it was for the 
 love that he had to his Prince, that he ventured as he 
 did.t(^) 
 
 I dare say, quoth I, I am glad of it ; I am glad for 
 the poor man's sake, for that now he has rest from his 
 labour,(c) and for that now he reaps the benefits of his 
 tears with joy ;{d) and for that he has got beyond the 
 gun-shot oi" his enemies, and is out of the reach of 
 them that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumour 
 of these things is noised abroad in this country ; who 
 can tell but that it may work some good effect on some 
 that are left behind ? — But pray. Sir, while it is fresh 
 in my mind, do you hear any thing of his wife and 
 children ? Poor hearts ! I wonder in my mind what 
 they do. 
 
 Sag. Who? Christiana and her sons? They arc 
 like to do as well as did Christian himself ; for, though 
 they all played the fool at first, and would by no means 
 be persuaded by either the tears or entreaties of Chris- 
 tian, yet second thoughts have wrought wonderfully 
 
 • Christian's King will take Ciiristian's part. O pilgrim, write this upon the 
 table of thine heart, and read it every step of thy journey. 
 
 "t" Mark this well. No matler wliat profession we make, if the love of Clinst 
 be not its foundation. All is nothing without this love. It is this love in the heart, 
 that, like oil in the lamp, keeps the profession of Christ burning bright. 
 
 (a) Judc xiv. 15. (6) Luke s> 16. (cj Rev. xiv. IS. (rf) Ts. cxsvi. 5, 6, 
 
flIS •WIFE AND CHILDREN BECOME PILGRIMS. 263 
 
 tvith them : so they have packed up, and are also gone 
 after him.* 
 
 Better and better, quoth I : but, what ! wife and chil- 
 dren and all? 
 
 Sag. It is true : I can give you an account of the 
 matter, for 1 was upon the spot at the instant, and was 
 thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair. 
 
 Thf n, said 1, may a man report it for a truth ? 
 
 Sag. You need not fear to affirm it ; 1 mean, that they 
 are aii gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and 
 her four boys. And being we are, as 1 perceive, going 
 some considerable way together, I will give you an ac- 
 count of the whole matter. 
 
 This Christiana (for that was her name from the day 
 that she with her children betook themselves to a pil- 
 grim's life,) after her husband was gone over the 
 river, (a) 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 ail ; for Christiana did also begin to 
 consider with herself, whether her unbecoming beha- 
 viour towards her husband was not one cause that she 
 saw -him no mere ; and that in such sort he was taken 
 away from her. And upon this came into licr mind, 
 by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and ungodly 
 caiTiage to her dear friend ; which also clogged her 
 conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was 
 moreover much broken with calling to remembrance 
 the restless groans, the brinihh tears, and seif-bemoan- 
 
 • Though moral persuasions, and all the affectionate arguments from a tender 
 husband, or an affectionate parent, may appear to prove ineffectual lor the pre- 
 sent ; yet let us not neglect our duty, but be earnest in it, and loaTc the. event P; 
 sovereiga graeev 
 
 (a) Parti, p. 241— 24;r?. 
 
264. HER ALARMING AND ENCOURAGING DREAMS. 
 
 ing of her husband, and liow 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 
 cars most dolefully. *(«) 
 
 Then said she to her children, " Sons, we are all un- 
 done. 1 have sinned away your father, and he is gone : 
 he would have had us with him, but 1 would not go my- 
 self : I also have hindered you of life." With that the 
 boys fell into tears, and cried to go after their fatiier. 
 " Oh!" said Christiana, " that it had been but our lots 
 to go with him ; then it had fared w ell w ith us, be\ ond. 
 what it is like to do now. For, though 1 formerly 1(jo1- 
 ishly imagined concerning the troubles of your father, 
 that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for 
 that he was over-run with melanchol} humours ; }et now 
 it \vill not out of my mind, but that they sprang from an- 
 other cause ; to wit, for that the light of iife was given 
 him •,{d) by the help of which, as I perceive, Ik has es- 
 caped the snares of death. "f Then they wept all again, 
 and cried cut, " Oh, woe worth the day !" 
 
 The next night Christiana had a dream ; and be- 
 hold, she saw as if a broad paichment was opened be- 
 fore her, in which w^cre recorded the sum of her 
 ways ; and the crimes, as she thought, looked \'i.ry 
 black upon her. Then she cried out aloud m her 
 
 • Here sec, w]iat tliosf who cruelly ami unkindly treat their £;"'"y relations and 
 iViends on account of their religion, must come to feel, in the bitterness of their 
 spirit, and jjroan under in the soriow of their soul, if ever the LoiiJ grants llfem 
 repentance unto life. 
 
 t Is it any marvel, that a quickened, eidighlened sinner, should be judged by 
 those arounil hin), who are yet dead in (heir sins, to be full of whims and melan- 
 choly .' No : it is very natural for tlicin to think us fools and mad ; but we kuow 
 that tiiey really are so. 
 
 ('/) Part I. p. -19— 51. (6) Jolm viii. 12. 
 
SECRF.T'S VISIT AND MESSAGE TO CHRISTIANA. 265 
 
 Sleep, " Lord have mercy upon me a sinner :"*(«) — and 
 the little children heard her. 
 
 After this, she thought she saw two very ill-favoured 
 ones standing by her bed-side, and saying, " What 
 shall we do ^vith 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 some way, seek to 
 take her off from the thoughts of what shall be hereaf- 
 ter, 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 
 an 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- 
 wards the paved work that was under his Prince's feet, 
 saying, " I heartily thank my Lord and King ibr bring- 
 ing 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 av.hile, 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 doer, and saluted her with, 
 " Peace on this house." The which when he had 
 
 • This is the very first cry of an awakened sinner, mercy for the lost and 
 miserahle : and no sooner are the sinner's eyes opened to see Iiis ruined, despe- 
 rate state, and to cry for mercy, but the god of this world, who hitherto had 
 bhnded the eyes, and kept the heart secure by presumption, now opposes 
 tlie sinner's progress to a throne of grace, to a God of mercy, and to the Saviour 
 of the lost. Satan does not easily part with his prey Rut Jesus the strong 
 man armed with alniiglity power and everlasting love, will conquer and cast. 
 him out. 
 
 (o) Luke xviii. 13, 
 
 84 
 
266 HE c;mis her a letter from the king. 
 
 done, he said, " Cliristiana, knowcst thou wherefore I 
 am come ?" Then she bhished and trembled ; also her 
 hei.rt bcs^an to wax warm with desires to know from 
 whence he came, and w hat his errand was to her. So 
 he said unto her, " My name is Secret ;"* I dwell with 
 those that are high. It is talked of, ^\here 1 dwell, as 
 if thou hadst a desire to go thither : also there is a re- 
 port, tliat thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly 
 done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against 
 liis way, and in keeping of these babes in their igno- 
 rance. Cliristiana, 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 
 Avouid have thee to know, that he inviteth thee to come 
 into his presence, to his table, and that he will feed thee 
 with the lat of his house, and \vith the heritage of Jacob 
 thy lather. 
 
 " There is Christian, thy husband that was, with le- 
 gions more, his companions, ever beholding that face 
 that doth minister life to the 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 Vision proceed- 
 ed, and s;iid, " Christiana, iiere 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 
 oi the best perfume. («) Also it ^vas written in letters 
 of gold. The contents of the letter were these : " that 
 the King would have her do as did Christian her hus- 
 band ; tor that was the onl)' way to come to his city, and 
 to dwell in his presence with joy for ever." At this 
 
 • *' Tlic fear of tlie Lord is the beginning pf wisdom," Psalm cxi. 10. and 
 " The secret ol" tliu Lord is with tliciu wlio fear liiiii," I'saliu xxv. 14. The Spirili 
 llie Conilbrier, never convinces ilie soul ol" sin, Ijut lie also revives and comforts 
 the sincere lieurt with glad ti<liiigs of free and full pardou of sin, throiigli the bloml 
 of the LA.Mli. 
 
 (a) Sol. Songs i. 5 
 
CHRISTIANA'S DISCOURSE TO HER SONS. 267 
 
 the good woman ^vas cjuite overcome : so she cried 
 out to her visitor, " Sir, will you carr\' me and my 
 children with you, that we may also go and worship the 
 King ?" 
 
 Then said the visitor, " Christiana, the hitter is be- 
 fore the sweet. Thou must through troubles, as he 
 did that went before thee, enter this celestial city. 
 Wherefore I advise thee to do as did Christian thy 
 husband : jjo to the Wicket-srate vonder over the 
 plain ; for that stands in the head of the way up which 
 thou must go, and I wish thee all good speed. A!so 
 I advise thee that thou put this letter in thy bosom : 
 that diou read therein to thyself, and to thy children, 
 until they 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 :(a) also this thou must deliver in at 
 the far gate."* 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that this old gentleman, as 
 he told me this 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 imder 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 been also much affected with 
 the thoughts of mine own estate and yours, which 
 I verily believe is by nature miserable. My carriage 
 alsa to your father in his distress is a great load to my 
 conscience ; for 1 hardened both my heart and jours 
 
 * Saj-s our Lord. " When the Spirit is come, he sliall testify of me — he sliall 
 lead j'ou into all truth — he shall show you things lo come." All this tiu- conMnced 
 sinner finds true in experience. As the Spirit testifies of Christ, so he iciuis the 
 coul to Ciirist, that he may he the sinner's only hope, salvation, and slrenfetli. 
 Thus he glorifies Christ. 
 
 (a) Psal. cxix. 54, 
 
268 CHRISTIANA IS VISITED BY TWO NEIGHBOURS ; 
 
 against him, and refused to go with him on pilgrim- 
 age. 
 
 " The thoughts of these things would now kill me 
 outright, but for that a dream A\hich I had last night, 
 and but that lor the encouragement this stranger has giv- 
 en me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack 
 up, and be gone to the gate that leads us to that celestial 
 countrv, that we may see your father, and be vith 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 \vas so inclined. So the visitor 
 bid them fare^^ ell ; 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 neighbours came up to 
 her house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said 
 as before. At this the women were stunned ; for this 
 jvind 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, " Neighbour, pray, "vvhat is 
 TOur m.eanmg by this ?" 
 
 Christiana answered, and said to the eldest of them, 
 whose name ^vas 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 Inm gone back for fear of the lions.) (a.) 
 
 TiJM. For what journey, I pray you ? 
 
 • Rcndci', stop and examine ; did ever any of your former friends and carnal 
 acqnaintance take knowledge of a diflerencc in your language i.nd conduct ! 
 Do tliey still ajijirovc of you as well as ever? Wliat reason, tlicn, liave you to 
 lliink yourself a pilgrim ? for no sooner does any one commence a pilgrim, but 
 lliat word is fulfilled, " For then I will turn to tlic people a pure language." 
 Zepli ill 9. If the heart be ever so little acqainted with the Lord, the tongue 
 V ill discoTcr it| and the carnal and profane will ridicule and despise you for it. 
 
 ((T Part I. p. 96. 
 
TO VmOM SHE DECLARES HER INTENTION. 269 
 
 Chr. Even to go after my old husband.— And with 
 that she fell a weeping. 
 
 Tim. I hope not so, good neighbour ; pray, for your 
 poor children's sake, do not so unwomanly cast away 
 yourself. 
 
 Chr. Nay, my children shall go with me: not one 
 of them is willing to stay behind. 
 
 Tim. I wonder in my heart, what or who has brought 
 you into this mind !' 
 
 Chr. Oh, neighbour, knew you but as much as I do, 
 I doubt not but that you would go along with me. 
 
 Tim. Pr'ythee, what ne\v knowledge hast thou got, 
 that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that 
 tempteth thee to go nobody knows where ? 
 
 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 trou- 
 bleth 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 pilgrim- 
 age. I was a dreaming last night, that I saw him. Oh 
 that my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the pre- 
 sence of the King of the Country ; he sits and eats with 
 him at his table ; he is become a companion of im- 
 mortals, and has a house now given him to dwell in, 
 to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem 
 to me but as a dunghill. (a) The Prince of the palace 
 has also sent for me, with promises of entertainment, 
 if I shall come to him ; his messenger was here even 
 now, and 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 ^ou say to 
 this ? 
 
 • This was a letter full of the love of Jesus, ami llie precious invitation of his 
 loving heart to all sinners to come unto him, as recorded in his hlessed word. 
 Happy sinners, whose eves are opened to re.-»d them : but this the world calls 
 m^adness, 
 
 (fl') 2 Cor. T. 1—4. 
 
270 TIMOROUS ATTEMPTS TO DISSUADE HER FROM 11 . 
 
 Tim. Oh the madness tliat has possessed thee and 
 thy husband ! to run yoursches upon such difficulties ! 
 You have heard, I am sure, what }our husband did 
 meet ^vith, even in a manner, at the first step that he 
 took on his way, as our neighbour Obstinate can yet 
 testify, for he \\ ent along with him ; yea, and Pliable 
 too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to i^^o any 
 further, (fl) We also heard, over and above, how he 
 met with the lions, Apollyon, the Shadow of Death, and 
 many other things. Nor is the diinger diat he met witli 
 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 ]30or woman, do ? Consider also, that these four sweet 
 babes are thy children, thy flesh, and th}* bones. There- 
 fore, though thou shouldst be so rash as to cast away 
 thvself ; yet for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep 
 them at home.* 
 
 But Christiana said unto her, Tempt me not, my 
 neighbour : I have now a price put into my hand to 
 get a gain, and I should be a fool of the greatest sort, 
 if I should have no heart to strike in Avith the oppor- 
 tunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles 
 that I am like to meet with in the way, they are so flir 
 from being to me a discouragement, that they sliow I am 
 in the right. The bitter must come before the sivect^ 
 and that also will make the sweet the sweeter. Where- 
 fore, since you came not to my house in God's name, 
 as I said, I pray you be gone, and do not disquiet me 
 further.! 
 
 • The liOrd, who quickens lis by Iiis Spirit, and calls us by his wonl, well 
 knows tlie carnal ciicniics V, ho will oppose our ]>rogrcss in the divine life : there- 
 lore lie tells us, " If tliy brollier, or the wife of thy boson), or thy friend, which 
 h as tliine nw\\ soul, eniice thee secretly from the Lord, thou slialt not hearken 
 wiito him," &c. Dcul xiii. C. Let the word of Ciod be the rule, and Christiana's 
 conduct an example to all who are seltinj; their face Zion-ward. O beware of the 
 reasonini^ of the flcsii. Dread to look hack, 'i'remhic at the ihought of going 
 back ; for the Lord hath no pleasure in such. Ileb. .\. 08. 
 
 t 'I'hat is right. It is wdl to he bold in the name of the Lord, with those « ho 
 fik to t'irii us away from followin;< on to know the Lord: for nothing less tUau 
 
 («) Part. I. p. 53— CO. 
 
MERCY INCLINES TO ACCOMPANY HER. 271 
 
 Then Timorous also reviled her, and said to her fel- 
 low, " Come, neighbour 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 neighbour ; and that for a tv/o-fold 
 reason : — 1st. Her bowels yearned ov^er Christiana. So 
 she said within herself, " If my neighbour will needs 
 be gone, I will go a little way with her, and help 
 her." — 2dly. Her bowels yearned over her own soul ; 
 for what Christiana had said, had taken some hold upon 
 her mind. Wherefore she said within herself again, 
 *' I will yet have more talk with this Christiana ; and, 
 if I find truth and life in what she shall say, myself 
 with my heart shall also go with her." Wherefore 
 Mercy began thus to reply to her neighbour Timo- 
 rous. 
 
 Mer. Neighbour, I did indeed come with you to see 
 Christiana this morning ; and, since she is, as you sec, 
 a taking her last farewell of the country, 1 think to walk 
 this sun-shiny morning a little with her, to help her on 
 her way. — But she told her not of her second reason, 
 but kept it to herself 
 
 Tim. Well, I see you have a mind to go a fooling 
 too ; but take heed in time, and be wise : while we are 
 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 htr house, she sends lor 
 some of her neighbours, to wit, Mrs. Bat's-eyes, Mrs. 
 Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-no- 
 thnig. So, when they were come to her house, she falls 
 
 life and salvation, or death and damnation, will be the issue of it. O pilgrims, be- 
 •ware : beware of parleying with the carnal. Ever remember, you have a nature 
 prone to catch the falling spark from their flint and steel, and tinder about you ever 
 ready to take the fire 
 
 * Here we see our Lord's word verified, " The one sliall be taken, and tlie 
 othei- left." Matt. xxiv. 41, Mercy obeys the call — Tiraoious perversely re- 
 jects it. 
 
272 TIMOROUS, BATS-EYES, &c. TALK OF CHRISTIAXA, 
 
 to telling of the story of Christiana, and of her intended 
 journey. And thus she began her tile — 
 
 Neighbours, having but 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 Ibund her j.reparing herself to depart the 
 town ; she, and also her children. So I asked htr, 
 M hat was her meaning by that ? And she told me in 
 short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, 
 as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she 
 had, and how the King of the country where her 
 husband was, had sent her an inviting letter to come 
 thither. 
 
 Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And what, do you 
 think she uill go ? 
 
 Tim. Ay, go she will, whatever come on't ; and me- 
 thinks, I know it by this ; for diat which was my great 
 argument to persuade her to stay at home, (to wit, the 
 troubles she was like to meet with in the way,) is one 
 great argument with her, to put her forward on her jour- 
 ney. For she told me in so many words, " 77ie bitter 
 goes before the sweet : yea, and iorasmuch as it doth, it 
 makes the sweet the sweeter." 
 
 Mrs. Bat's-eyes. Oh this blind and foolish woman ! 
 and \vill she not take warning by her husband^ afflic- 
 tions ? For my part, I see, if he were hi re again, he 
 would rest him 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 \\here she 
 dwells, and retain this mind, who could live quietly by 
 her? for she will either be dumpish or unneighbourly, 
 to talk of such matters as no wise body can abide : 
 wherefore, for my part, I shall never be sorry fjr her 
 departure ; let her go, and let better come in her room : 
 
Christiana persuades mercy to go 'with her. 273 
 
 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,(c) 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 Mri,. Leche- 
 ry, Mrs. Filth, and some others : so there we had music 
 and dancing, and ^vilat else was meet to fill up the plea- 
 sure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is im admirable 
 well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a 
 fellow. 
 
 By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy 
 went along with her : so as they went, her children being 
 there also, Christiana began to discourse. " And, Mer- 
 cy," said Christiana, " I take this as an unexpected fe- 
 vour, that thou shouldest set foot out of doors with me, 
 to accompany me a little in my way." 
 
 Then said young Mercy, (for she was but young,) I£ 
 I thought it would be to purpose to go with you, I would 
 never go near the town. 
 
 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 ia 
 mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thoui 
 shdlt go along with me. as my servant. Yet we will have 
 all things in common betwixt thee and me : only go along 
 with me.f 
 
 • O how do such carnal wretches sport with their own damnation, while they 
 despise the precious truths of Gotl, and ridicule his people ! But as it was in the 
 bes^inning-, he who was born after the flesh persecuted him who was born after the 
 Spirit, so it will be, as long as the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent 
 are upon the earth. 
 
 f Such is the true spirit of all real pilgrims. Thcv wish others to know Christ, 
 and to become follo»vers of hini with themselves. O how happy are they whcH 
 the Lord is pleased to draw the liearts of any of their fellow-sinners to himself, 
 
 (a) Part I. p. U,'. 
 
274 MERCY GRIEVES FOR HER CARNAL RELATIONE. 
 
 Mer. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall 
 be entertained ? Had I this hope from one that can t( II, 
 I would make no stick at all, but would go, being 
 helped by him that can help, though the way was never 
 so tedious.* 
 
 Chr. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou 
 shait do : go with me to the Wicket-gate, and there I 
 will further inquire for thee ; and, if there thou shalt 
 not meet Avith encouragement, I Avill be content that 
 thou shalt return to tli}' place ; I also will pay thee ibr 
 thy kindness Avhich thou showest to me and my chil- 
 dren, in the accompanying of us on our way as thou 
 dost. 
 
 Mer. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall 
 follow : and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, 
 even as the King of heaven shall have his heart upon 
 me.t 
 
 Christiana Mas then glad at lieart ; not onl}- that she 
 liad a companion ; but also for that she had prevailed 
 with this poor maid to fall in love with her own salva- 
 tion. So they went on together, and Mercy began to 
 weep. Then said Christiana, " Wherefore Aveepeth my 
 sister so ?" 
 
 Alas ! said she, who can but lament, that shall but 
 rightly consider what a state and condition my poor re- 
 lations are in, that yet remain in our sinful tow n ? and 
 that which makes my grief the more is, because they 
 
 • Tliough C'liristiana clearly saw and knew licr callinp; of Cod, yet Mcrcv did 
 not; llicrclbre slie is in dfiubt about it. Just so it is wiili many at llicir first setting 
 out. Hence tlicy are ready to say, tliat tliey could even wish to have had the 
 most violent convictions of sin, and to have been as it were, shook over the month 
 of hell, that they might have had a greater certainly of their being called of (Jod. 
 ]iut this is speaking unadvisedly. Better to take the apostle's advice; «« GWe all 
 diligence to make your calling sure." 
 
 ■}• Mere is a blessed <liscovery of a heart divinely instructed. Mind, here is no 
 looking to any thing Mercy was in herself, nor to any thing she could do for her- 
 self, but all is nsoivcil into this, all is cast upon ibis, even the love of the heart of 
 the King ol heaven. Iteader, can win be content with this lot ? Can you caH all, 
 and rtsi all, npou the love of Christ? Thcu bless his loving name for giving you a 
 pilgriui's heart. 
 
CHRISTIANA'S REMARK. 275 
 
 have no instruction, nor any to tell them what is to 
 come.* 
 
 Chr. Bowels become pilgrims : and thou doest for 
 thy friends, as my good Christian did for me when he 
 left me ; he mourned for that I would not heed nor re- 
 gard 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 bene- 
 fit 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 singing. And " he 
 that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall 
 doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves 
 with him,"(«) 
 
 Then said Mercy, 
 
 " Let the most Blessed be my guide, 
 
 If't be his blessefl will, 
 Unfo his gate, into his fold, 
 
 Up to his holy hill : 
 
 And let him never suffer me 
 
 To swerve or turn aside 
 From his free "race and holy ways, 
 
 Whate'er shall me betide. 
 And let him ;^atlier them of mine, 
 
 That I have left behind ; 
 Lord, make them pray thej'^ may be thine, 
 
 With all their heart and miud." 
 
 * This is natural ; v hen \re know the worth of our souls, and the ralue of 
 Christ's Salvation, and weep for our sins, also to mourn and weep for our carnal 
 lelatives, lest they should be eternally lost. 
 
 (fl) Psal. csxvi. .';, 6, 
 
276 THEY PASS THE SLOUGH SAFELY, 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 CHRISTIANA, MERCY. AND THE CHILDREN^, PASS THE SLOUGH 
 WITH SAFEIY, AND ARE KINDLY RECEIVED AT THE WICK- 
 ET-GATE. 
 
 ^ ow my old friend ])roceeded, and said, — But, when 
 Cliristiana came to the sloug;h of Despond, (a) she be- 
 gan to be at a stand ; " For," said she, " this is the 
 place in \vhich my dear husband had like to have been 
 smothered with mud." She percciAed also, that, not- 
 %vithstanding the command of the King to make this 
 place for pilgrims good, 3'et it was rather worse than for- 
 merly. 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 labourers, and say they are for mending 
 the King's highways, that bring dirt and dung instead of 
 stones, and so mar, instead of mending.* Here Chris- 
 tiana therefore, and 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 what has been told her from the 
 Lord."(<^) 
 
 • But instead of being wJiHt they profess, the King's labourers, Paul calls them 
 gospc-l-jicTverteis, and soul-troublers. Gal v. 10 For instead of preaching a fi-ee 
 and full salvation, graciously bi-sio«ed upon poor sinners, who can do nothing to 
 entitle thems. Ivcs to it, or to g:iin an interest in it; behold, these wretched daub- 
 ers set Ibi th salvation to sale upon certain ti rnis and conditions, which sinners are 
 to perform and fulfil. Thus tliev distress ihi upright and sincere, and deceive the 
 eelf-righteous and unwary into pride and delusion. Thus they mar, instead of 
 )nend the way ; and bring dirt and dung, instead of stones, to make the way souaO 
 Slid sale lor pilgrims. Beware of the sophistry of such preachers. 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 57} 58. ((>) Luke i. -13. 
 
AND ARRIVE AT THE WTCKET-GATE. 277 
 
 Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Chris- 
 tiana, Had 1 as good ground to hope for a loving recep- 
 tion at the Wicket-gate, as you, I think no slough of 
 Despond could 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 it cannot be 
 imap-ined, that the people that design to attain such ex- 
 cellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that hap- 
 piness 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 came 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 unto 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 hus- 
 band did, she knocked and knocked again.(c) But m- 
 stead oi any that answered, they all thought that 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. Novv there- 
 fore 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 be offended with them : at last they thought of knock- 
 ing again, and knocking more vehemently than they did 
 at first. 
 
 (n) Part L p. 71, 73, 
 
278 MERCY LEFT WITHOUT, WHILE THE OTHERS EXTER. 
 
 Then suid the keeper of the i^ate, " Who is there ?'* 
 So tlie do<^ left off to bark, and he opened unto them.* 
 
 Then ChristiaJia made a low obeisance, and said, Let 
 not our Lord I)e oflcnded with his hand-maidens, for that 
 "wc have knocked at his princely gate." 'J'iien 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 th.at 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 mar\-el, sa3ing, 
 " W^hat, 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 lier by the hand, and let her in, and 
 said also, " Suffer the 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 sound of trum];)et,. for joy. 
 So he obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his 
 melodious notes. 
 
 Now all this wliile poor Mercy did stand \\ithout, 
 trembling and crying for fear that she was rejected. 
 But when Christiana had gotten admittance for herself 
 and her bovs, then she beo-an to make intercession for 
 Mercy. 
 
 • No sooner does u poor sinner o]icn liis lii)S in prayer to Jesus, but the devil 
 Tiill bai-k iiuil roar at him, and by all means try to terrily and discourage him. Do 
 tou find this ' Wiiat is youi- remedy ? Resist the devil, and he will fly IVom you, 
 James iv. 7 Draw nigh to CJoil, and he will draw nigh to you, James iv. 8. O 
 fvcr leniembcr our lord's woi-d> luea sliould pray always and act I'aiut, Luke 
 xviii. 1. 
 
MERCY FALLS DOWN IN A SWOON. 279 
 
 And she said, My Lord, I have a companion of mine 
 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 1 Was sent to by my husband's 
 King to come. 
 
 Now Mercy began to be very impatient, and eacli 
 minute ^vas 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 would be opened to her. 
 
 Then he took her by the hand, and said, " Damsel, 
 I bid thee arise." 
 
 " O sir," said she, " I am flunt ; there is scarce life 
 left in me." But he answered, that one said, " When 
 m} soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and 
 my prayer calne unto thee, into thy holy temple. "(a) 
 Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me where- 
 fore thou art come. 
 
 Mer. I am come for that unto which I was never 
 invited, as my friend Christiana was. Hers was ivom. 
 the King, cind mine was but from her. Wherefore I 
 presume.* 
 
 * Mercy's case is not singular. Many have set out just as slie did, and have 
 been discouraged by the same reason as she was. She, as many liavL- been, was 
 encouraged to set out in tlic ways of the Lord, by lier neighbour and triend. 
 Hence she thought there was no cause to conclude tliat she was called by the Lord, 
 but llihi it was only the eftecl ot" human power, or moral persuasion, and therel'ore 
 doubted and fainted lest she should not meet with acceptance. But her very doubts, 
 fears and distress, proved the earnestness ot her heart, and the desire of her soul 
 after the Saviour ; and also, that his mercy, love, and gricious power, had a 
 hand in the work. Mai-k this, ye poor, doubting, fcai-ing, trembling souls, 
 ■who aic halting every step, and fearing you have not set out aright, hear ^^ hat 
 Christ's angel said, and be not discouraged. Fear not, lor ye seek Jesiij.- 
 Matt, xxviii. 5. 
 
 (a) Jonah ii. 7. 
 
280 COOD-WILL LEADS JfERCY iff. 
 
 Good- WILL. Did she desire thee to come with hef to 
 this place ? 
 
 Mer. Yes ; and, as my Lord sees, I am come ; and 
 if there is any grace and forgiveness of sins to spare, 
 I beseech tliat thy poor handmaid may be 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 Mercy to smell on, thereby to stay her faintings." 
 So they fetched her a bundle of myrrh. A while after 
 she was revived. 
 
 And now was Christiana, and her boys, and Mercy, 
 received of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke 
 kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto 
 him, " We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our 
 Lord his pardon, and further information what we must 
 do." 
 
 I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed ; by word, 
 in the promise of forgiveness ; by deed, in the way I 
 obtained it. Take the first from my lips \\ ith a kiss, and 
 tlie other as it shall be revealed. (c) 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good 
 A\ords 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 parlour below, 
 where they entered into talk b}- themselves : and thus 
 Christiana began : *' O Lord, how glad am I that we arc 
 got in hither !" 
 
 Mer. So you well may : but I of all have cause to 
 leap for joy. 
 
 Chr. 1 thought one time as I stood at the gate, (be- 
 cause I had knocked and none did answer,) that all our 
 
 (d) Sol. Soiifjs i. "J, John xs, IT'.' 
 
THE PILGRIMS CONVERSE TOGETHER. 281 
 
 labour had been lost, especially when that ugly cur made 
 such a heavy barking at us.* 
 
 Mer. But my worst fear was, after I saw that you 
 was taken into his favour, and that I was left behind. 
 Now, thought I, it is fulfilled which is written, " Two 
 women shall be grinding together, the one shall be taken, 
 and the other left. "(«) I had much ado to forbear cry- 
 ing out, Undone I And afraid I was to knock any 
 more : but, Avhen I looked up to what was written over 
 the gate,(/;) I took courage. I also thought, that 1 must 
 cither knock again or die if so I knocked, but I cannot 
 tell ho\\' ; for my spirit now struggled between life and 
 death. 
 
 Chr. Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure 
 your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound 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, (c) 
 
 Mer. Alas, to be in my case ! who that so was, could 
 but have done so ? You saw that the door was shut 
 upon me, and that there was a most cruel dog there- 
 about. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I^ 
 would not have knocked with all their might ? — But pray, 
 what said my Lord unto my rudeness ? Was he not an- 
 gry with mc ? 
 
 Chr. 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 1 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 
 
 • The devil often barks most at us, and brings liis heaviest accusations against 
 us, vvVien mercy, peace, comfort and salvation are nearest to us. 
 
 " Press on, nor fear to win the day, 
 
 " Though earth and hell obstruct the way." 
 
 f Here is a blessed example of deep humility, and of holy boldness, excited by 
 the diviue word. Go, thou ruined siinier, and do likewise. 
 
 (o) Matt. xxiv. 41. (^) Part I. p. 71. {c} Matt. xi. 12i 
 
 36 
 
282 MERCY ASKS GOOD-AVILL ABOUT THE DOG. 
 
 now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all my 
 heart. 
 
 Mer. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes 
 down, M'hy he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard : 1 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 w or- 
 bhippcd, and said, " Let my Lord accept the sacrifice 
 ot praise which 1 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 ;"(a) wherefore dost thou 
 keep so cruel a dog in tiiy yard, at the sight of which, 
 such women and children as we, are ready to flee from 
 the gate with fear ? 
 
 He answered and said. That dog has another owner : 
 he is also 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 pil- 
 grmi from worse to better, by the great voice of his roar- 
 ing. 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 nie, and that they may 
 be airaid to come and knock at this gate for entrance. 
 Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some 
 that 1 loved ; but 1 take all at present patiently. I also 
 give my pilgrims timely help, so that they are not deli^■- 
 ered up to his power, to do to them what his doggish 
 nature would prompt him to. But what ! my purchased 
 one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much before- 
 hand, thou wouldest not have been afraid of a dog. The 
 
 (a) Jcr. xii. 1, 2. (6) Part I. p. 71. 
 
THEY GO ON THEIH WAY REJOICTNG: 285 
 
 beggars that go from door to door, will, rather than they 
 will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, 
 barking, and biting too of a dog : and shall a dog in an- 
 other man's yard; a dog whose barking 1 turn to the 
 profit of pilgrims, keep any from coming to me ? 1 de- 
 liver them from the lions, and, " my darling from the 
 power of the dog." 
 
 Then said Mercy, I confess my ignorance ; I speak 
 what 1 understand not : I acknowledge that thou doest all 
 things well. 
 
 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, accord- 
 ing as he had dealt with her husband before. 
 
 So I saw in my dream that they went on their way ; 
 and the Aveather was comfortable to them. 
 
 Then Christiana began to sing, saying, 
 
 *' Bless'd be the day that I begao 
 
 A pilgrim for to be ; 
 And blessed also be that man 
 
 That thereiiuto mov'd me. 
 
 'Tis true, 'twas long ere I began 
 
 To seek to live for ever :(6) 
 But noAv I run fast as I caa ; 
 
 'Tis better late than never. 
 Our tears to joy, our fears to faiths 
 
 Are turned, as. we see; 
 That our beginning, (as one saitli,) 
 
 Shows what our end will be." 
 
 (a) Part 1. p. 7% id) Matt. xx. !§,, 
 
284 THE CHILDREN EAT THE ENE^IY'S FKUIT. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE PH^GRIMS AUE ASSAULTED, BUT RELIEVED. ARE EN- 
 TERTAINED AT THE INTERrRETER'9 HOUSE. 
 
 Now there M-as on the other side of the wall, that fenced 
 in the way up ^\•hich Christiana and her companions >verc 
 to go, a garden, and that belonged to him, whose was 
 that barking dog, of whom mention was made before. 
 And some of the fruit-trees that grew in the garden, 
 shot their branches over the wall ; and being mellow, 
 tlx^- 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 
 did hang thereon, did jiluck them and began to eat. 
 Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still 
 the boys ^^•ent on.* 
 
 " Well," said she, " my sons, you transgix-ss ; for 
 that fruit is none of ours : " but she did not know tliat 
 they did belong to the enemy : I'll warrant you, if she 
 liacl, 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's-shot from the 
 place that led them into the wa}', they espied two very 
 ill-favoured ones coming down apace to meet them.f 
 With that Christiana and Mercy her friend covered 
 themselves with their veils, and kept also 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 
 
 " Wliat is this garden, but the world ? What is the fiiiit thoy here found? Tile 
 lust of the flesh, tiie lust of the eye, and the pride of life. 1 John ii. IC. 
 
 j- What .-ire these ill-favoui-ed ones ? Such as yo;i will be sure to meet with in 
 youi ^lili^rilnagc ; some \\\v lusts, or cursed eouiiptions, which arc suited to your 
 carnal nature 'I'hese will .illack you, strive to jircvail agaitist you, aud OYCrcOIUC- 
 
 you. Miad how these pilgrims acted, and follow their example. 
 
THE WOMEN ARE ASSAULTED BY TWO MEN. 285 
 
 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 
 waxed very ^vroth, and spiu'ned 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 pil- 
 grims as you see, and such too as live upon the charity 
 of our friends." 
 
 Then said one of the t^\'o men. We make no assault 
 upon your 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. 
 
 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 of life and death." So again 
 she and her companions made a fresh essay to go past 
 them : but they letted them in their ^\-ay. 
 
 And they said, we intend no hurt to your lives ; 'tis 
 another thing we would have. 
 
 " Ay," quoth Christiana, " you would have us body 
 and soul, for I know 'tis 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 \\dth that they both shrieked out, and 
 cried. Murder ! Murder ! and so put themselves under 
 those laws that are provided for the protection of wo- 
 iTien.(c) But the men still made their approach upon 
 them, with design to prevail against them. They there- 
 fore cried out again.* 
 
 • Here we see that the most \iolcnt temptation to the greatest evil is not sin, if 
 resisted and not complied with. Our Lord himself was tempted in all things like 
 
 («) Deut. Kxii. 23—27. 
 
286 THEY ARE RESCUED PROM THE RUFFIANS. 
 
 Now they beine^, as I said, not far from the gate, in 
 at which they came, their voice was heard from where 
 they were thither : wherefore some of the house came 
 out, and knowing that it was Christiana's tongue, they 
 made haste to her rehef But by that they were got 
 within sight of them, the A\'omen were in a very great 
 scuffle : the children also stood crying by. Then did 
 he who came in for tlieir relief call out to the ruffians, 
 Siiying, " What is that thing }'ou do ? Would \ ou 
 inake my Lord's people to transgress ?" He also at- 
 tempted to take them ; but they did make their escape 
 o\ er the \\ all into the garden of the man to w horn the 
 great dog belonged : so the dog became their protect- 
 or, l^his Reliever then came up to the >vomen, and 
 asked them how they did. So they answered, " We 
 thank thy Prince, pretty mcII ; only we have been 
 somewhat affrighted : we thank thee also, that diou 
 camest in to our help, for otherwise we had been over- 
 came." 
 
 So after a few more words, this Reliever said as fol- 
 loweth : I marvelled much, when you were entertained 
 at the gate above, seeing ye know that ye were but weak. 
 Avomen, that you petitioned not the Lord for a conductor : 
 then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers : 
 he would have granted you one.* 
 
 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 should l^ave lurked such naugh- 
 ty ones? Indeed it had been well for us, had we asked 
 
 »s ve are, yet willioiit sin. Tlierofore, re followers of liim, don't be dejected 
 anil cast down, though yon should be exercised with temptations to the blackest 
 erimcK, and the most heinous sins Christ is faithful, and he will not suffer us io 
 l»e tempted above that we are able; but will, with the teruptstiou, also make a 
 ■way to escape, that we may be able to bear it. I Cor. x. 13. 
 
 Let this convince us of our backwardness to prayer, and make US altcud to that 
 i«r»l>lurcj " Yc have not, bcc;^us» yc ask uot." Jarn'ea >v. 3. 
 
PILGRIMS SHOULD ASK FOR EVERY THING NEEDFUL. 287 
 
 Our Lord for one ; but, since our Lord knew it would 
 be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with 
 us.* 
 
 Rel. It is not always necessary to grant things not 
 asked for, lest by so doing they become of little esteem : 
 but, when the want of a thing is felt, it then conies un- 
 der, in the eyes of him that feels it, that estimate that 
 properly is its due ; and so consequently will be hereafter 
 used. Had my Lord granted you a conductor, you would 
 not, neither, 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.f 
 
 Chr. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and con- 
 fess our folly, and ask one ? 
 
 Rel. Your confession of your folly I will present him 
 with : to go back again, you need not ; lor in all places 
 where you shall come you will find no want at all ; lor at 
 every of my Lord's lodgings, which he has prepared for 
 the reception of his pilgrims, there is sufficient to furnish 
 them against all attempts whatsoever. But as I said, " he 
 will be inquired of by them, to do it for them. "(a) And 
 it is a poor thmg that is not worth asknig for. When he 
 had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pil- 
 grims went on dieir way. 
 
 Then said Mercy, What a sudden blank is here ! I 
 made account we had been past all danger, and that we 
 should never sorrow more. 
 
 Thy innocency, my sister, said Christiana to Mercy, 
 may excuse thee much ; but as for me, my fault is so 
 
 * It is well to value present blessings, to be joyful in tbem, and thankful for 
 them ; but it is wrong to forget our dangers, and grow secure. 
 
 f What loving, what precious reasoning is this! Willi what lender affoction 
 does our Lord reprove. Sec how kindly it works upon a pilgrim's soul. Poor 
 Christiana was for going back to confess her folly, and make "lier rei[r.est to her 
 Lord. But she is forbidden, and encouraged and coraforted to go on. O how does 
 our Lord bear, and what pains dot-s he take witli us, [loor awkwai'd creatures, who 
 are ever prone to act amiss. Let us ever think most lowly of ourselves, and most 
 highly of hiiH. 
 
 (fi) Ezek. xxxvi. 37. 
 
288 TIIEY APPROACH THE INTERPRETER'S HOUSE. 
 
 much the greater, for that I saw this danger before I 
 came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it 
 A\ here provision might have been had. I am much to be 
 blamed.* 
 
 Then said Mercy, How knew you this before you 
 came from home ? Pray open to me this riddle. 
 
 CiiR. \Vhy, I will tell you. — Before I set foot out of 
 doors, one night, as 1 lay in my bed, I had a dream about 
 this : for methought I saw two men, as like these as ev- 
 er tlic world they could look, stand at my bed's feet, 
 plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will 
 tell you their ^•cry words : they said, (it w as \vhcn I was 
 in my troubles,) " What shall we do with this woman ? 
 for she cries out waking and sleeping for forgiveness : if 
 she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her 
 as we have lost her husband." This you know might 
 haA e made me take heed, and have provided when pro- 
 vision might have been had. 
 
 Well, said Mercy, as by this jieglect we have an oc- 
 casion ministered unto us to behold our imperfections, so 
 our Lord has taken occasion thereby to make manifest 
 the riches of his grace ; for he, as we see, has folloA\ed 
 lis with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from 
 their hands that were stronger than we, of his mere good 
 pleasure. 
 
 Thus now, A\hen they had talked away a little 
 more time, they drew near to an house that stood in 
 the www : which house was built for the relief of pil- 
 grims : as you will find more iuUy related in the first 
 part of the records of the Pilgrim's Progress.(a) So 
 they drew on towards the house (the house of the In- 
 terpreter ;) 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, 
 
 • Here is the «li8pl:iy of a iriilv Clnistian spirit, in that open and iiiKcnumis con- 
 fession ol li(;i- fault, taking all the lilanie vipon licrsclf, exaggerating it, and ex- 
 cusing Mercy. 
 
 («0 Part I. p. 70—8'. 
 
THE DOOR IS OPENED TO THEM. 289 
 
 even before her, a talk of her and her children going 
 on pilgrimage. And this was the more pleasing to 
 them, because they had heard that she was Christian's 
 wife, that woman who was some time ago so unwilling 
 to hear of going on pilgrimage. Thus, therefore, they 
 stood still, and heard the good people within commend- 
 ing 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, named Innocent, and opened 
 the door, mid looked, and behold, two women were 
 there. 
 
 Then said the damsel to them, " With whom w^ould 
 you speak in this place ?" 
 
 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 scest, is very far spent, and 
 we are loth to-night to go any further." 
 
 Dam. Pray what may I call your name, that I may 
 tell it to my Lord within ? 
 
 Chr. My name is Christiana ; I was the wife of thafi 
 pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way ; and these 
 be his four children. This maiden is also my compan- 
 ion, and is going on pilgrimage too. 
 
 Then ran Innocent 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 com- 
 panion, 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'5 
 life ?" 
 
 Chr. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as 
 tb slight my husband's troubles, and that Mi him to gQ 
 
 87 
 
290 THEY ARE WELCOMED TO THE HOUSE. 
 
 on his journey alone ; and these are his four children , 
 but now I also am come, for 1 am convinced that no way 
 is right but this.* 
 
 Inter. Then is fulfilled that which is written of the 
 man that said to his son, " Go work to-day in my vine- 
 yard ; and he said to his father, I will not ; but afterwards 
 repented and went."(«) 
 
 Then said Christiana, So be it ; Amen. God make 
 it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be- found 
 at the last " of him in peace, without spot, and blame- 
 less !" 
 
 Inter. But why standest thou 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. CohjC, children, come in : 
 come maiden, come. — 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 anotlicr smiled, and they ail smiled, for joy that 
 Christiana was become a pilgrim : they also looked 
 upon the boys ; they stroked them over their faces 
 with their hands, in token ot their kind reception of 
 
 • Here see liow the experience of true grace works in the heart : by keepings 
 the subjects of it low in their own eyes, and cutting otf nW svlf-c\aitings " I am 
 that haril-hearted woman," 6jc. 'i'iiis ever dwell upperiiiusl in C'hi isti.ina's 
 heart. Oh soul, if thou truiv knowest thyself, thou wilt ever be sinking into 
 nothing, because a sinner before the Lord, and confessing thy vilcness unto 
 Jiini, acknowledge if he had left thee to ihyself, destruction must have bepn 
 tin inevitable doom And see how confident divuie teaching makes us. Under 
 its power and influence, we can say with Christiana, " 1 am cunvinccd that no 
 \>-A\ is right but tliis," evcD to be a pilgi-im of the Lord, aud a sojourner upon llie 
 «arUi. 
 
 (a) Matt. x&i. 28, 29. 
 
THE MUCK RAKE. 
 
THE MAN WITH THE MUCK-RAKE.. 291 
 
 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 In- 
 terpreter took them into his sigiiijicant roo?Jis, 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 greatest of 
 all ; together with the rest of those things that were then 
 so profitable to Christian. 
 
 This done, and, after those things had been some- 
 what digested by Christiana and her company, the In- 
 terpreter 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 the figure of a 
 man in this world : is it not, good Sir ? 
 
 Thou hast said right, said he, and his muck-rake 
 doth shovv^ his carnal mii\d. And, whereas thou seest 
 him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, ancj 
 the dust of the floor, than 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 thmgs here are counted the only things sub- 
 stantial. Now, whereas it was also showed thee, that 
 
 • Here is joy indeed, -which strangers to the love of Christ intermeddle not 
 ■with. Believerj did you never partake of this pleasing, this delightful .sensation, 
 on seeing other poor sinners, like thyself, called to know Jesus and follow him ? 
 Sureh this is the joy of heaven ; and if thou hast this joy, thou hast the love that 
 reigns in heaven. O for a spread and increase of this spirit among Christians of 
 ail denominatioas. 
 
292 THE SPIDER ON THE WALL : 
 
 the man could look no way i)ut downwards, it is to kt 
 thee know, that earthly things, when they are with pow- 
 er upon men's minds, quite carry their hearts away from 
 God. 
 
 Then said Christiana, O ! deliver me from this muck- 
 rake. 
 
 Tliat prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till 
 it is almost rusty : " Give me not riches," is scarce 
 tlie prayer of one of ten thousand. ("«) Straws, and 
 sticks, and dust, \\ith most are the things now looked 
 after. 
 
 With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, " It 
 is, alas ! too true.'"* 
 
 When the Interj^retcr had showed them this, he had 
 them into the very best room in the house (a very brave 
 room it was :) so he bid them look round about, 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. 
 
 Then said Mercy, Sir, I see nothing : but Cliristiana 
 held her peace. 
 
 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 
 
 • The emblematical instruction at the Interpreter's house, in tlie former part, 
 Has su important and comprehensive, that no other selection c'(|iially interesting; 
 could be expected : some valuable hints, ho\frever, are here adduced. The fii-st 
 emblem is very plain, and so apposite, that it is a wonder any person sliould read 
 it. without lifiinp; u]) a prajcr to the Lord, anil saving, " Oh ! deliver me from 
 this Muck-rake." Yet alas, it is to be feared, such prayers are still little used, 
 even by professors of the Gospel ; at least they are contradicted by the habitind 
 conduct of numbers among them, and this should very properly lead us to weep 
 over others, and tremble o»er ourselves Reader, diilst thou, like these pious 
 liilgrinis, never shed a generous tear, for tliy base and disingenuous conduct to- 
 •«ards thy Lord, in preferring the sticks and straws of this world, 10 iJie uuscurcli- 
 «ble riches ol° Christ, anU tlie salvation of thy immortal soul, 
 
 (d) Viov. XXX. ?. 
 
THE RIDDLE THEREOF EXPLAINED. 29$ 
 
 spider in all this spacious room ?" Then the water stood 
 in Christiana's eyes, for she was a woman quick of ap- 
 prehension : and she said, " Yes, Lord, there is 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 blush, and the boys to 
 cover their faces ; for they all began now to understand 
 the riddle.* 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again, " The spider taketh 
 hold with her hands (as you see,) and is in king's pala- 
 ces." 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 ! 
 
 I thought, said Christiana, of something of this ; but 
 I could not imagine it all. I thought, that we were like 
 spiders, and that we looked like ugly creatures, in what 
 fine rooms soever we were ; but that by this spider, 
 this venomous and ill-favoured creature, we were to 
 learn how to act faith, that came not into my thoughts ; 
 that she worketh with hands ; and, as I see, dwells in 
 the best room in the house. — God has made nothing in 
 vain. 
 
 Then they seemed all to be glad ; but the water stood 
 in their eyes : yet they looked one upon another, and also 
 bowed before the Interpreter. 
 
 He had them then into another room, where was a 
 hen and chickens, and bid them observe a while. So 
 one of the chickens went to the trough to drink, and 
 
 • The author did not mean by the emblem of the spider, that the sinner niight 
 confidently assure himself of salvation, by the blood of Ciirist, while he continued 
 full of the poison of sin, without experiencing and evidencing any change ; but only, 
 that no consciousness of actual guilt, and inward pollution need discourage any one 
 from fl/>/)/?/Jn^ to Christ, and fleeing for refuge, •' to lay hold on the hope set be^ 
 fore them," that thus the sincere soul may be delivered from condenination, 
 cleansed fully from pollution, and so made meet for tliOSQ blessed mansjous, inlc 
 ^UicU no UQclean thing caa fiad adcoisslQn: 
 
•594 THE IIEK AND CHICKENS. 
 
 ever)' time slic drank she lifted u\) her head and her 
 
 eyes towards heaven. " See," said he, " what this 
 
 little chick doeth, and learn of her to acknowledge 
 
 whence ^our 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 foLU-foid method towards her chickens. 1. She 
 
 J had a common calU and that she had all the day long. 
 
 V 2. She had a special call, and that she had but some- 
 
 ) times. 3. She had a brooding note. And, 4. She had 
 
 an outcry. [a) 
 
 Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and 
 these chickens to his obedient ones. For, answerable 
 to her, himself has his methods, ^vhich 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 arc 
 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.* 
 
 • Our Lord lialh, in immense coiulescension, employed tliis emblem, to repre- 
 sent liist'^nder love to sinners, for whom lie bare tiie storm of wrath himself, that 
 by flvint; to him, they migiit be safi; anil happy under the sliadow of his wing. 
 ]HIatt. xiii. 3" — 'I'iir common call si.s;nifies the general invitations of tlie gospel, 
 vhid) shotild be addressed without restriction to every creature within the sound 
 tbei-eof ; " preach this my gospel to every creature :" " as many as ye find bid to 
 tin- marriage." In ]iroportion as sinners otiiy what .Mr. Runyan termed ti common 
 call, so shall they feel what he styles a special call ; when (io<l bestows tlie grace, 
 peace, and panlon of the gospel of Christ upon those who believe with an licart 
 Unto righteousness. The brooding^ note is. when lie gathers them under his 
 ■witigs, warms their hearts with tiie comforts of his love, nourishes their souls with 
 •lose fellowship with liiiuself, and refreshes their spirits with the overflowinijs of 
 joy in the Holy Ghost. " In the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice," says David, 
 I's. Ixii. 7. ♦' [ snt under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet 
 unto my taste." Song ii. 3. O for more of these precious brooding notes, to be 
 R'.ithercd under the wings of our Immanuel I But he our frames and e.YpericnceB 
 "Hhat they m;(v, still we are ever in danger ; for our enemies surround us on erery 
 •id''. Therefor'- our Lord has an outcry i he gives the alarm, calls upon us, and 
 •warns us of danger. Why ' that we should tlee to him, anil run into him. For 
 " the name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous ruuuelU luto it, and is 
 tafc." Prov. x\iii. H». 
 
 (a) Malt, xxiii. 37. 
 
THE PATIENCE OP THE SHEEP. 295 
 
 " And, Sir," said Christiana, " pray let us see some 
 more." So he had them into the slaughter-house, where 
 Was a butcher kilHng of sheep : and, behold, the sheep 
 ^vas quiet, and took her death patiently. " Then," said 
 the Interpreter, " you must learn of this sheep to suf- 
 fer, and to put up with wrongs without murmurings 
 and complaints. Behold how quickly she takes her 
 death, and, without objecting, she sufFereth her skin to 
 be pulled over her ears. — Your King doth call you his 
 sheep."* 
 
 A iter 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 divers in stature, in 
 quality, and colour, and smell, and virtue ; and some 
 are better than some ; also where the gardener hath set 
 them, there they stand, and quarrel not one with an- 
 other."! 
 
 Again, he had them into his field, w'hich he had 
 sown with wheat and corn : but, when they beheld, 
 the tops of all were cut ofi:', only the straw remained. 
 He said again, " This ground was dunged, and plough- 
 ed, 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, " iFruit 
 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.":}: 
 
 • Were we as sheep going astray ? Are we now returned to thee, O Christ, tlie 
 great Shepherd and Bishop of our souls ? Lord give us more and more of tlijr meek 
 and lowly spirit ! 
 
 ■f Christ's church is his garden ; helievers are planted in it hy the power of }ii3 
 grace, and they shall soon be transplanted into his kingdom of glory. Though 
 there may belittle non-essential differences of judgment, yet whv should they fall 
 out ? O for more love and peace from Jesus, and then tJiere will be more among 
 each other. 
 
 t A precious caution. See to it, Christian, that you avoid those things which' 
 eausedeadiiess and unfruilfulmss, and follow those things which tend to (^uickea 
 a'A<l makeyoiir souls frtiitful io good Ti-orks^ to the glory of God, 
 
296 THE ROBIX RED-BREAST. 
 
 Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they es- 
 pied a rol^in with a great spider in his mouth ; so the 
 Inter[)reter said, " Look here." So they looked, and 
 Mercy wondered ; but Christiana said, " What a dis- 
 paragement is it to such a little pretty bird as the 
 robin red- breast is ! he being also a bird above many, 
 that loveth to maintain a kind of sociableness with men : 
 I had thought they had lived upon crumbs of bread, or 
 upon other such harmless matter : 1 like him worse than 
 Idid." 
 
 The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an em- 
 blem, \ery apt to set forth some prolessors by ; for to 
 sight they are, as this robin, pretty of note, colour, 
 and carriage ; they seem also to have a very great love 
 for professors that are sincere ; and above all other to 
 desire to associate with them, and to be in their com- 
 pany ; as if they could live upon the good man's 
 crumbs. They pretend also, that therefore it is that 
 they frequent the house of the godly, and the appoint- 
 ments of the Lord : but when they iire by themselves, 
 as the robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders^ they 
 can change their diet, drink and swallow down sin like 
 water.* 
 
 So when they were come again into the house, because 
 supper as yet was not read), Christiana again desired 
 thcit the Interpreter would either show or tell some other 
 thi.igb thai are profitable. 
 
 Then the Interpreter began, and said : The fatter 
 the sow is the more she desires the mire ; the fatter the 
 
 • lic-afler, a very striking emblem tiiis, and most pertineiitlv applied : and, if 
 youi- soul is sincere, it will cause a holy fear, create a Kodlx jealousy, put >ou u|M)I1 
 sc'il-i-xauiiuinj;;, and make vou sigli out in some sucli words as navi<l, " Search me, 
 UCiod, and know my heart; try me, and know my tliou^^lils: and see it tnere he 
 any wieked way in me, and lead me in the way everiustnig." Ps cxxxix. 'ii, -4, 
 O what will it avail in a 'lying hour, or ici the judgment day, tliat we have worn iho 
 Ulai'k ot proft'ssion, and sei-med toman, what wcwere not in In ai t and rialily ot 
 lile iiiloie (iod .' From all sell-dcoeiving, good Lord, deliver us ! tor we ar« milur- 
 atly prone to it. 
 
THE INTERPRETER'S INSTRUCTIONS; 297 
 
 OX is, the more gamesomely he goes to the slaughter ; 
 and the more healthy the lusty man is, the more prone 
 is he unto evil. 
 
 There is a desire in women to go neat and fine, and 
 it is a comely thing to be adorned with thiit which in 
 God's sight is of great price. 
 
 'Tis easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a 
 whole year together : so 'tis easier for one to begin to 
 profess well, than to hold out as he should to the end. 
 
 Every ship- master, when in a storm, will willingly 
 cast that overboard that is of the smallest A^alue 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 him- 
 self 
 
 He that lives in sin, and looks for happiness hereafter, 
 is like him that soweth cockle, and thinks to fill his barn 
 with wheat and 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 j 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 th^ 
 goodness of God ? 
 
 We seldom set 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. 
 
 •S8 
 
298 CimiSTlANA DECLARES HOW sire BECAME 
 
 When the Interpreter had done, he takes them out 
 into his garden again, and liad them to a tree, whose 
 inside was all rotten and gone, and yet it grew and had 
 leaves. Then said Mercy, " What means this V — 
 " This tree," said he, " whose outside is lair, and 
 whose inside is rotten, is it, to which many may be 
 compared that are in the gard^ n of God ; who with 
 their mouths speak higli in behalf of God, but in deed 
 wiii 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 board ; so they siit down and did eat, 
 when one had given thanks. And the Interpreter did 
 usually entertain those that lodged with him, with mu- 
 sic 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, 
 Aiitl he tliat dotli me leed ; 
 How cau 1 ihcu want any lliing 
 Wheieof I staud in need?" 
 
 When the song and music were ended, the Inter- 
 preter 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 w as heartily grieved ; 
 bui. all that was but natural aftlction. Then, after that, 
 came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into 
 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 
 ha\e drawn me into the pond ; but that opportunel} I 
 had a dream uf the well-being of my husband, and a 
 letter eiu me by the King ol that country where my 
 husbai.d dwells, to come to him. The dream and the 
 
A PILGRIM, AND WHAT BEFEL HER IN THE WAY. 299 
 
 letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced 
 me to this way. 
 
 Inter. But met you with no opposition before you 
 bet out of doors ? 
 
 Ckr. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. Timo- 
 rous (she was kin to him that would have persuaded 
 my husband to go back, for fear of the lions,) she also 
 so befooled me,* for, as she called it, my intended des- 
 perate 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 : yea, it 
 still runs in m}' mind, and makes me afraid of every 
 one that I meet, lest tliey should meet me to do me a 
 mischief, and to turn me out of my M-ay. Yea, I may 
 tell my Lord, though I would not have every body 
 know it, that between this and the gate by which we 
 got into the way, we were both so sorely assaulted, that 
 we were made to cry out murder ; and the two that made 
 this assault upon us, were like the two that I saw in my 
 dream. 
 
 Then said the Interpreter, " Thy beginning is good, 
 thy latter end shall greatly increase." So he addrcs:>ed 
 him to Mercy, and said unto her, " And what moved 
 thee to come hither, sweet heart ?" 
 
 Then Mercy blushed and trembled, and for a while 
 continued silent. 
 
 Then said he. Be not afraid, only believe, and speak 
 thy mind. 
 
 Then she began and said, Truly, Sir, my want of 
 experience is that which makes me covet to be in si- 
 
 • Ah Mrs. Timorous ! How many professed pilgrims hast thou befooled and 
 turned back ! How often does she attack and aftVight many real pilgiims ! O may 
 we say to every incitement to self-complacency, m our Lonl's words, " Get thee 
 behind me, Satan ; thou savour.est not the things that be of God, but those that 
 fee of J5>en." Mat. xvi. 23. 
 
30(5 MERCY'S ACCOUNT OF HERSELF. 
 
 Icncc, and that also that fillcth me with fears of coming 
 short at hist. I cannot tell of visions and dreams, as 
 my friend Christiana can ; nor know I a\ hat it is to 
 mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that were 
 good relations.* 
 
 Inter. What was it then, dear heart, that hath pre- 
 vailed with thee to do as thou liast done '? 
 
 Mercy. Why, when our friend here was packing 
 U]) to be gone from our town, I and another went acci- 
 dentally to see her. So \ve knocked at the door, 
 and went in. When we were w ithin, and seeing 
 what she was doing, we asked her what she meant? 
 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 im- 
 mortals, wearing a croun, pla} ing upon a harp, eating 
 and drinking at his Prince's table, and singing praises 
 to him for the bringing him thither, he. Now me- 
 tliought while she was telling these things unto us, my 
 heart burned within me. And I said in my heart, If 
 this be true, 1 will leave my father and my mother, and 
 the land of my nativity, and will, il' I ma}', go along 
 with Christiana. 
 
 So I asked her further of the truth of these things, 
 and if she would let me go ^\ ith her ; for I saw now, 
 that there was no dwelling, but with the danger of ru- 
 in, any longer in our town. But yet I came away with 
 a heavy heart ; not for that 1 was unwilling to come 
 aw ay, but for that so many of my relations were left be- 
 liind. And I am come with all my heart, and will, if I 
 may, go with Christiana to her husband, and his King. 
 
 • A very simple aiitl artless confession. Tiie LortI works very difTerently iij)on 
 tlie hearts of sinners, bnt iihvjiys to one and llie s:tnie end, naniel>, to c«usr us to 
 l)riif (jlirist, liis s:ilv:ition, and his ways, and to ahlior ourse'ves, the paths ol sin, 
 and to east off all self-righteous hopes. If tliis is eiVected in thy heart, Keuder, no 
 Tnnlter whether thou canst tell ol visions and dreanis, and talk high of experiences. 
 Wan> are, miuI have been (K'ceived b\ these things, and come to nothing But 
 ■will IV ilie siiid is looted and grounded in the knowledge of pii tioiis (linst, and 
 lov( ti) iii^ «a\.s, tiiovigh tin le may be many tears, \et Ibis is UD indubitable proof 
 Oi' a real ai<U sincere pilgi-iju. 
 
SHE IS ENCOURAGED BY THE INTERPRETER. 301 
 
 Inter. Thy setting out is good, for thou hast giv- 
 en credit to the truth ;* thou art a Ruth, who did, for 
 the love she bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, 
 leave father and mother, and the land of her nativity, 
 to come out and go with a people that she knew not 
 before. " The Lord recompense ihy work, and a full 
 reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under 
 whose wings thou art come to trust. "(«) 
 
 Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for 
 bed ; the women were laid singly alone, and the boys by 
 themselves. Now when Mercy was m bed, she could 
 not sleep for joy, for that now her doubts of missing at last 
 were removed farther from her than ever they were be- 
 fore. So she lay blessing and praising God, who had 
 such favour for her.f 
 
 * Thou hast given credit to the truth. What is this but faith ; the faith of the 
 operation of God ? But some mav ask, what is justifying, saving faith ; nothing 
 more than a belief of the truth ? If so, the very devils believe ; yea, more, they 
 tremble also. True : but mind how Mercy's faith wrought by her works. True, 
 she did not tremble, like a devil, without hope, but she fled for refuge to the hope 
 set before her in the gospel. She fled from sin from the city of destruction, to 
 Christ for salvation. Though she had not the ;ot/ of faith, yet she followed on to 
 know the Lord, walking in his ways, and hoping for comfort from the Lord m his 
 due time. Ohow are many poor pilgrims' hearts dejected and distressed about the 
 faith of the gospel, by the strange, perplexing, unscriptural definitions which have 
 been given of it ! whereas faith is the most simple tiling in the world, it is the be- 
 lief of the truth as it is in Jesus ; that we are lost sinners in ourselves, and that 
 there is salvation for us in him. Where this is believed in the heart, it causes a 
 sinner to become a pilgrim; oelieving the exceeding sinfulness of sin, the pertect 
 purity of God's law, his own ruined state, the preciousness of Christ, the glory 
 of his salvation, the necessitv of holiness, and the hope of glory ; this faith will in- 
 fluence the conduct bring love into the heart, and cause the soul to persevere, 
 looking to Jesus the author and finisher of our faith. O Reader, if thou hast a 
 grain of this precious faith in thy heart, bless Jesus for it, and go on thy way re- 
 joicing, c • u -t- 
 t Here now is the comfort of faith As by constant exercise of our faith, it 
 grows strong, so it expels our doubts, enlivens our hearts, and sets our soiiU a 
 blessing and praising our Immanuel. This prayer, «' Lord increase our faith . i5 
 ^er needful for God's gloiy, and our soul's comfort. 
 
 (a) Ruth ii, 11, 12. 
 
302 THE PILGRIMS PREPARE TO DEPARl 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS CONDUCTED BY GREXT-HEART, PROCEED 
 ON THEIR JOURNEY. 
 
 In the morning tliey arose with the sun, and prepared 
 themselves for their departure ; but the Interpreter 
 would hnve them tarry awhile : " for," said he, " you 
 must orderly go from hence." Then said he to the dam- 
 sel 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 have 
 gathered by travelling." Then Innocent the damsel took 
 them, and led them into the garden, and brought them 
 to the bath ; so she told them, that there the}- must wash 
 and be clean, for so her Master would have the women to 
 do, that called at his house as tliey were going on pil- 
 grimage. Then they went in and washed, yea, the}- and 
 the boys and all ; and they came out of that bath not only 
 sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and strength- 
 ened in their joints. So when they came in, they looked 
 fain r 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 the}' 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 \\hither they ^\•erc yet to go. 
 Now the seal was the contents and sum of the pnsso- 
 
 • Tlirrt nre no pilgrims but daily necrl (o liavc recourse to this batli. What 
 mMjr wr understand In it ? The hlood of Jesus, which cleanses us from all sin. 
 I John i. 7. Christ is the fountain opened for sin, and for unileaimcss. Zech. xiii. 1. 
 Christ is the soul's onlv I.Mih Tiie TIolv Spirit, the SanclifuT, leads us to the 
 blood of the Lamh. The Spirit bears witness to this blood, aad purifies aud com- 
 forts by the application of this blood onlj. 
 
THE SEAL AND WHITE RAIMENT. 305 
 
 ver which the children of Israel did eat when they came 
 out of the land of Egypt ;(a) and the mark was set be- 
 tween 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 countenances more iike 
 those of angels.* 
 
 Then said the Interpreter again to the damsel that 
 waited upon the 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 :j 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 
 in herself, which they could see in each other. Now 
 thereiore they began to esteem each other better than 
 themselves. " For you are fairer than 1 am," said one ; 
 and, " You are more comely than I am," said another. 
 The children also stood amazed, to see mto what fashion 
 they were brought. 
 
 The Interpreter then called for a man-servant of his, 
 one Great-heart,| and bid him take a sword, and hel- 
 met, and shield ; " and take these my daughters," said 
 he, " conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at 
 
 Tins means the sealing of the Spirit. Eph. iv. SO. O this is blessed sealing • 
 JJone know the comfort and joy of it, but those who have experienced it. It colli 
 Urnis our faith, establishes our hope, and inflames our affections to God the f athes? 
 tor his love, to God the Son, tor his gracious atonement and righteousness, and 
 to v.ocl the Spirit for his enlightening mercy, regenerating grace, quickeninij 
 sanctitying, testifying, and assuring influences, whereby we know that we are 
 the childx-en of God, for " the Spirit itself beareth m itness with our spirits that 
 we ^are the children of God " Rom. viii. 16. Therefore grieve not die Holy 
 
 t Mind, they are commanded to put it on. Though God imparts the righteous- 
 ness ot his beloved Son to sinners, yet it is received and put on by faith. Hence 
 ilonrx C '"'Shteoasncss of God, 2 Cor. v. 21 ; and the righteousness of faith, 
 
 i Great-hearty may represent the stated pastoral care of a vigilant Minister 
 Who is strong in the faith, and courageous in the cause of God. How thankful 
 nuentthereu on^ "* ^"""'^ "''"''^''^'' ^"*^ cai'^-'fuUy improve all the Mcssings conse- 
 
 («) Exod. xiii. 8— 1(?, 
 
804 GREAT-HEART GUmES THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 vhich place they will rest next." So he took his weap- 
 oiib, and went before them ; and the Interpreter said, 
 " God speed." Those also that belonged to the family 
 sent them away ^^■itll many a good wish. So they went 
 on their \\a\ , and sang — 
 
 " Tliis place lias been bur second stage. 
 
 Here we have heard and seen 
 Those good tilings, that Ironi age to age 
 
 To others hid have been. 
 The dunghill raker, spider, hen, 
 
 Tlie chicken loo, to nie 
 Hath taught a lesson ; let me then 
 
 Conlormert to it be. 
 The butcher, garden, and the field, 
 
 Tlie robin and his bait. 
 Also the rotten tree doth yield 
 
 Me argument of weiglit ; 
 To move me for to waich and praj. 
 
 To strive to be sincere : 
 To take my cross up ilay by jday, 
 
 And serve the Lord with fear." 
 
 Now I sa\v in my dream, that those went on, and 
 Great-heart before them ; so they w ent and came to 
 the place where Christian's burden fell off' his back, 
 and tumbled into a sepulchre. (a) Here then they made 
 a pause. Here also they blessed God. Now, said 
 Christiana, it comes to my mind what was said to 
 us at that gate, to w it, that we should ha\e pardon by 
 word and deed ; by word, that is, by the promise ; by 
 deedy to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the 
 promise is, of that 1 know something : but what it is to 
 liave pardon by deed, or in the way tliat it was obtained, 
 Mr. Great-heart, I su])pose you know, which, if you 
 please, let us hear your discourse thereof. 
 
 Gr.-ii. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtain- 
 ed by some one, for another that hath need thereof : 
 
 (o) Part I, p. 8». 
 
THE EPFICACt OF CHRISt'S RIGHTEOUSNESS. o05 
 
 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 by another ; 
 to wit, by him that let you in at that gate : and he 
 hath obtained it in this double way : he hath perform- 
 ed righteousness to cover you, and spilt blood to wash 
 you in.* 
 
 Chr. But if he parts with his righteousness to us, 
 what will he have for himself ? 
 
 Gr.-h. He has more righteousness than you have need 
 of, or than he needeth himself. 
 
 Chr. Pray make that appear. 
 
 Gr.-h. 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. Un- 
 to each of these natures a righteousness belongeth, and 
 each righteousness is essential to that nature. So that 
 one may as easily cause the natures to be extinct, as to 
 separate its justice or righteousness from it. Of thes& 
 righteousnesses, therefore, we are not made partakers, 
 so that they, or any of them, should be put upon us] 
 that we might be made just, and live thercb}-. 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 entrusted with. If he parts with 
 his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead : if 
 
 * This, this is the comfort, joy, and glorying of a pilgrim's heart. Hath Jesiis 
 performed riglUeousness to cover us, and spilt blood to wash us! Have we fiiiii in 
 him ? O how ought we to love him, glory of him, rejoice in him, and s'iidv to 
 ??lonfy him in every step of our pilgrimage ! 
 
306 CHRIST'S RIGHTEOUSNESS 
 
 he parts uith his second righteousness, he parts with the 
 purity of his manhood ; if he parts Avith liis third, he 
 parts with that perfection which capacitates him to the 
 office of mediation. He has therefore another righteous- 
 ness, which standeth in performance, or obedience to a 
 revealed will : and that is wiiat he puts upon sinners, and 
 that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, 
 " as by one man's disobedience, many were made sin- 
 ners ; so b}' the obedience of one, shall man\- be made 
 righteous. "'*(«) 
 
 Chr. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to 
 us? 
 
 Gr.-ii. Yes: for thouijh thev are essential to his na- 
 tures and office, and cannot be communicated unto an- 
 other, yet it is by virtue of them that the righteousness 
 that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. Tiie righ- 
 teousness of his Godhead gives virtue to his obedience ; 
 the ri-hteousness of his manhood giveth capability to his 
 obedience to justify ; and the righteousness that standeth 
 in the union of these tu o natures to his office, giveth au- 
 thority 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 ; lor he is God \\ ithout it : here is a 
 righteousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to 
 make him so, for he is perfect man without it r 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. 
 
 • ili>r(^ Ml'. IJimyaii givi-s a very clear and distinct account of tliat riglitcousness 
 of ('lirist, as mediator, wliicli in- wroiiglil out l)_v liis |>i-rl(ct olji-difiicc to the law 
 of (^od, for, and in liclialf of all bclit'Vcrs: and wliiuli i'it;lilrousni-ss is lni|iai't(-(l to 
 tlieni by dod the Fallier, tliroup;li lailli, and in this ri,!;liti-(>iisni'hs, bclirvcrs in 
 ("li'-isi arc mad-' ppifcclly nt;ltleoiis hcl'orr (iod. Of tlils rigliti-()iisiii-s>, llu-rtfore, 
 lh<-\ glory, anil their sonis make their boast of it, sayiiisj, In lUc Lord Jehovah 
 Jesus, havu 1 rij-liteousness. Isa. xlv.'24. 
 
 ('</) liom. V. 13. 
 
FURTHER EXPLAINED. 307 
 
 and therefore he can spare it ; a justifying righteousness, 
 thtt he for himself vvanteth not, and therefore giveth it 
 away. Hence it is called " the gift of righteousness, "(a) 
 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. 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, ar.d one to spare : wherefore he freely be- 
 stows one upon those that have none. And thus, Chris- 
 tiana and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth 
 your pardon come by deed^ or by the Vvork of another 
 man ! Your Lord Christ is he that Morkcd, 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 some- 
 thing prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us 
 up to the just course of a righteous law : now from this 
 course we must be justified by way of redemption, a 
 price being paid for the harms we have done ; and this 
 is by the biood of your Lord, who came and stood in 
 your place and stead,, and died your death for your trans- 
 gressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your trans- 
 grtssions by blood, and covered your polluted and de- 
 formed souls with righteousness ;((6) for the sake of which, 
 God passeth by you, and will not hurt you, when he 
 comes to judge the world.* 
 
 * Thus we see what God hath joined together, the hfe and death, the atonement 
 and righteousness of his beloved Sod, for the sidvatioii of our souls. Bolli enter 
 into the essence of the faith of the gosi)el. Let us beware never to separate them 
 in our views We want both his blood to atone for our sins, and his righteousness 
 to be imparted to our souls. 
 
 («) Kom. V. 17, {b) Rom. riii^ 34. Gal. iii. 13. 
 
308 THE BLESSED EFFECTS OF 
 
 Chr, This is brave : now I sec that there was some- 
 thini^ to be learned by our hcxuii; pardoned by rvord and 
 deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this in mind ; 
 and my children, do you remember it also. — But, Sir, 
 was not this it that made my s2;ood Christian's burden fall 
 from oft' his shoulder, and that made him give three leaps 
 for jo}- ? 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes, it was the belief of this that cut off" those 
 strings that could not be cut by other means ; and it w as 
 to give him a ])roof of the virtue of this, that he was suf- 
 fered to carry his burden to the cross. 
 
 CiiR. I thought so ; for though my heart was lightful 
 and joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and 
 joyous now. xVnd I am persuaded by what I have felt 
 (though I have felt but little as yet,) that if the most bur- 
 dened man in the world Mas here, and did see and believe 
 as I now do, it would make his heart the more merry and 
 blithe. 
 
 Gr.-h. There is not only one 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 does but once think that pardon comes 
 not only by promise, but thus,) but be affected with the 
 ■way and means of redemption, and so Nvith the man that 
 liath A\ rought it for him ?* 
 
 Chr. True: methinks it makes my heart bleed to 
 think, that he should bleed for me. Oh! thou loving 
 One ! Oh ! tliou blessed One ! Thou deservest to have 
 me ; thou hast bought me ; thou deser\est to ha\'e me 
 all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more 
 than I am worth ! — No marvel that this made the water 
 stand in my husband's eyes, and tliat it made him 
 
 " Come liillier, yc sons of the sorceress, who make sport of holy mplurcs and 
 lieavenly cistacy, licgoltcn in the soul by (lie knowlidpie of re(lem|)tion in the blooU 
 of Clihst, the forgiveiubs of our sins. I.uugh ou liU }c Jiowl in dcstructiuDj for 
 4Esi)i3ini; salvation by the blood of tiic Laiub. 
 
LOOKING AT THE CROSS, 3G9 
 
 trudge SO nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished me 
 with him ; but, vile wretch that I was ! I let him come 
 all alone. O Mercy, that thy father and mother were 
 here ; yea, and Mrs. Timorous also : nay, I wish now 
 with all my heart, that here was madam Wanton too. 
 Surely, surely, their hearts would be affected ; nor could 
 tlie fear of the one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, 
 ^prevail with them to go home again, and refuse to become 
 good pilgrims.* 
 
 Gr.-h. You speak now in the warmth of your affec- 
 tions : will it, think you, be always thus with you ? Be- 
 sides, that is not communicated to every one, nor to 
 every one that did see your Jesus bleed. There were 
 that stood by, and that saw the blood run from his heart 
 to the ground, and yet were so far off this, that, instead 
 of lamenting, they laughed at him ; and, instead of be- 
 coming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. 
 So that all that you have, my daughters, you have by 
 peculiar impression, made by a divine contemplating 
 upon what 1 have spoken to you. Remember that it was 
 told you, that the hen, by her common call, gives no 
 meat to her chickens. This you have therefore by a spe- 
 cial grace. I 
 
 Now I saw still in my dream, that they went on 
 until they were come to the place that Simple, and 
 
 * O brave Christians! See what it is to have one's heart inflamed with a sense of 
 the love of Christ Here observe two things : 1st, That when tlie affections are 
 thus powerfully carried out, it is no uncommon thing; to believe, thnt all may thus 
 come to a saving knowledge of the truth! 2ndly, Beware of thinking sligtilly of 
 having the affections thus divinely inflamed. Many poor, dry, formal professors 
 are content with the cold light of the moon, without the genial warmth of the sun ; 
 ■with clear notions of truth in their heads, without their hearts being warmed, and 
 their affections carried out by the powerful influences of the love of Jesus, who says, 
 " Ask, and you shall receive, that your joy may be full." John xvi '24. 
 
 f Mind how tenderly Great-heart deals with Christiana. He does not attempt 
 to damp her joy, and throw cold water upon the fire of her affections, but gently 
 insinuates, 1st, The peculiar frame of mind she speaks from. 2ndiy, By a gentle 
 hint, suggests, that her indulgences were of a peculiar nature, bestowed upon the 
 faithful in Christ only. And that therefore, amidst all her joyful feelings, she 
 should know to whom she vas indebted for thein, and give all the gloi-y to the Coil 
 of all grace. 
 
.310 SI\fPLE, SLOTH, AVD PRESU>frTIO>r: 
 
 Sloth, and Presumption, lay and slept in, when Christian 
 %vent by on pilgrimage : and, behold they were hanged 
 up in irons a little way oft" on the other side. 
 
 Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and con- 
 ductor, " What arc these three men ? and for what iirc 
 they hanged there ? 
 
 Gr.-h. These three men were men of bad qualities; 
 they had no mind to be pilgrims themselves, and w hom- 
 soever they could they hindered : they were for sloth and 
 folly themselves, and a\ homsovver 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 
 liangcd.* 
 
 Mer. But could they persuade any one to be of their 
 opinion ? 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes, they turned several out of the way. 
 There was Slow- pace, 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 the}-. Besides, they 
 brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading others 
 that lie wiis a hard task- master. 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 vil- 
 ify his servants, and to count the best of them meddle- 
 some, troublesome busy-bodies : further, they would 
 call the bread of God, husks ; the comforts of his chil- 
 dren, fancies ; the travail and labour of pilgrims, things 
 to no purpose. t 
 
 • God, as it wore, pihbpls some professors; and causes their names and elinrnc- 
 ters I') In' publicly exliibiled, as a terror to others. 
 
 t l^i;l lis consider the cJMi-acters of these three professors : 1st, Merc is Simple, 
 ■kvho, :i8 Solomon says, believcth every wonl, Prov. xiv. 15 ; a foolish credulous 
 profissor, who is easily led away and hep;uiled by smooth words and fair pretences 
 of olhiMS; cTcr h-arnnip;, but never coniin|; to the knowledge of the truth, sous 
 to beiicTc it, love il, ami be .-stablislied on it : hene<- liable to be carried away by 
 every wind of doctrine. 2d, Sloth, a ijuiet, easy professor, vlio never disturbs 
 
 # 
 
THEIR CRIMES ENGRAVEN ON A PILLAR, 311 
 
 Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they should 
 never be bewailed b) me : they have but what they de- 
 serve ; and J think it well that they stand so near the 
 highway, that others may see and take warning. But had 
 it not been \vell if their crimes had been engraven on 
 some pillar of iron or brass, and left here where they did 
 their mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men ? 
 
 Gr.-h. So it is, as you may well perceive, if you will 
 go a little to the wall. 
 
 Mer. No, no; let them hang, and their names rot, 
 and their crimes hve for ever against them : 1 think it is 
 a high favour that they are hanged before we came hith- 
 er ; 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 a«;a![ist the truth combine. 
 And let him thfit comes alter tear this end, 
 If unto piifjrims he is not a friend. 
 And thou, my soul, of all such men beware. 
 That unto holiness opposers are." 
 
 any one by his diligence in the word of God. nor his zeal for the truths and fflorv 
 
 °. I T t"''*''*A "Tu 'Pi?^ ''''" °'''""'' but Christ denounces a ^^oeagmnst 
 all such. Luke vi. 6 Sdly, I'rtmmption, one who presun.es to find favoui^uitli 
 God, in a way which his word does uot promise, or expects salvation at the end, 
 without the means prescribed by God tor attaining it O beware of these three 
 sorts ot prolessors lor they tun, many asi.le. Real Ch.'istians are in danger of 
 being seduced by them, it not of total destruction through their means. 
 
312 THE SPRING AT THE HILL niFFICULTY; 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS ASCEND THE HILL DIFFICLXTY, PASS THE 
 LIONS, AND ARRIVE AT THE HOUSE BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 Thus they went on till they came to the foot of the hill 
 Difficulty, \\here again their good friend 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 w ith the feet of some 
 that are not desirous that pilgrims here should quench 
 their thirst. (<i») Thereat Mercy said. And why so envi- 
 ous, trow ? But said the guide, It will do, if taken up, 
 and put into a vessel that is sweet and good ; for then the 
 dirt will sink to the bottom, and the water come out by 
 itself more clear. Thus therefore Christiana and her 
 companions were compelled to do. They took it up, 
 and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the 
 dirr jiad gone to the bottom, and then they drank thereof.* 
 Next he showed them the two b}'-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 you see these two ways are since 
 stopped up with chains, posts, and a ditch, yet they 
 
 • Tliis rcpiTSPnts to us, that some preachers, as the prophet says, foul the wa- 
 ter with their feet, Ezek. xxxiv 18 ; that is, though they preach soniewliat about 
 Christ, and salvation hy him, yet they so clop;, mire, and pollute the stream of 
 free grace, with pre-requisitcs, that a poor, thirsty soul catiiiol drink the water, 
 nor allav his thirst with it ; but is forced to let it stand, till these gross dregs sink 
 •o the bottom. 
 
 fa) Vart I. p. 0,^—00. (I)) Ezek. \:rjiv. »«. 
 
THE REASONS WHY MEN CHOOSE BY-WAYS. 313 
 
 are they which will choose to adventure here, rather than 
 take the pains to go up this hill. 
 
 Chr. " The way of transgressors is hard :"(«) it is a 
 wonder that they can get into those ways without danger 
 of breaking their necks. 
 
 Gr.-h. They will venture; yea, if at anytime any 
 of the King's servants do happen to see them, and- doth 
 call upon them, and tell them, that they are in the 
 wrong ways, 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 
 mouths."(^) 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.* 
 
 Chr. 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 
 as an hedge of thorns, "(c) Yea, they will rather choose 
 to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill and the rest 
 of this \^'ay to the city. 
 
 Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, 
 and up the hill they went ; but before tliey got up to 
 the top, Christiaiia 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 
 
 • Examine, which do you like hest, self-soothing or soul-searching doctrine ? 
 Formalists and hypocritea love the former, and hate the latter. But the sincere 
 and upright are discovered by desiring to have their hearts seaixhed to the quick, 
 and their ways tried to the uttermost 
 
 (a,) Prov, xiii. 15. {6) Jet. xliv. 10, 17. (c) Piov. xr. 19. 
 
 40 
 
314 GREAT-HEART ENCOURAGES THE BOYS. 
 
 above is the Prince's arbour. Then he took the little boy 
 by the hand, and led him thereto.* 
 
 When they were come to the arbour, 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 la- 
 bour !(«-) And how good is the Prince of pilgiims, to 
 provide such resting places for them ! Of this arljour I 
 have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here 
 let us beware of sleeping : for, as I ha^ e heard, for that 
 it cost poor Christian dear. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, 
 my prett}' boys, how do you do '? What think you now 
 of going on pilgrimage ? Sir, said the least, 1 was al- 
 most beat out of heart : but I thank you for lending me 
 a hand at my need. And 1 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 pro\'erb is. To go down the 
 hill is easy : but James said (for that was his name,) The 
 day is coming, when, in my opinion, going down the hill 
 will be the hardest of all. 'Tis a good boy, said his mas- 
 ter; thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy 
 smiled, but the'little boy did blush.f 
 
 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 
 
 * lie wlio is a stranger to self denial, knows not what tliis liill niffuulty means : . 
 lor tlie nearer to the iubour ol Jesiis's rest, the more cliniculties in tlie way ; but 
 the sweeter it is when attained. 
 
 t riiis is rijjiit; when we are praised, to liave a conscions blush, well know- 
 ing how njnth we have to be aslianicil of. O cry to the Lord continually 
 !it;ainst siiiritual pride, and for an Imnihle heart, knowing thyself to be a po( • 
 sinner. 
 
 (aj Mali. xi. '.'b. 
 
BEING REFRESHED, THEY SET FORWARD. 315 
 
 his doors ; he gave me also a piece of an honey-comb, 
 and a little bottle of spirits. " I thought he gave you 
 something," said Mercy, " because he called you 
 aside." " Yes, so he did," said the other. " But," 
 said Christiana, " it shall be still as I said it should, 
 ^vhen at first \ye came from home ; thou shalt be 
 a sharer in all the good that I have, because thou 
 so willingly didst become my companion." Then she 
 gave to them, and they did eat, both Mercy and the 
 boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great- heart, " Sir, 
 will you do as we ?" But he answered, " You are going 
 on pilgrimage, and presently I shall return : much 
 good may what you have do to you. At home I eat 
 the same every day." Now when they had eaten and 
 drank, and had chatted a litde 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 forgetfulncss : 
 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 pil- 
 grims in some things come off losers. Pilgrims should 
 watch and remember Avhat they have already received 
 under their greatest enjoyments ; but for want of doing 
 so, oftentimes their rejoicing ends in tears, and their sun- 
 shine 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 
 
 E^atkr, vjjti^d this well ; remember it often ; and it will do Ihce good. 
 
316 THEY COME IN SIGHT OP THE U0>;9. 
 
 back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were a 
 stage, and before it, towards tlic road, a broad plate, 
 %\ ith a copy of verses written thereon, and nnderneath, 
 the reason of raising up of that stage in that place ren- 
 dered. The verses were — 
 
 " Let him that sees that stage take heed. 
 Upon his heart ati'l loiiwue : 
 Lest if he do not, liere he speed 
 As some have long agoue." 
 
 The words underneath the verses were, " This stage 
 was built to punish some upon, \\ho, through timorous- 
 jiess or mistrusU shall be afraid to go further on ])ilgrim- 
 age : also on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous were 
 burnt through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavour- 
 ing 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 the juni- 
 per."(o) 
 
 So they went on till they came within sight of the 
 lions. (/6) Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he 
 was not afraid of a lion : but yet when they were come 
 UjD to the place w here the lions were, the boys that went 
 before were glad to cringe behind, for they Avcre afraid 
 of the lions ; so they stept back and went behind. At 
 this their guide smiled, and said, " How now, my 
 boys ; do }ou lo\e to go before when no danger doth 
 aj^proach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions 
 appear V 
 
 " Christians, tiike hrod to your tong;!)e3. O beware, beware, lest in any wis« 
 you in;iki* a false repoi't of tlie gooil land, tlirougli fear or mistrust ! Tlie Lord 
 iioteE wli»t you boldly speak for his ways, and to liis glory ; and he rnarks 
 your words whicli in any wise have a contrary tendency. The tongue is ftu un 
 3iily e^il, 
 
 (a) PsnJ. cxa. v, i. (*) P»rt I. p. 100. 
 
THE UIOKS BACKED BY GIANT HRIM. 317 
 
 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.* 
 
 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 all grown over with grass. 
 
 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. "(a) 
 
 Then he swore by the lions, but it should : and there- 
 fore bid them turn aside, for they should not have pas- 
 sage there. But their guide made first his approach unto 
 Grim, and laid so heavily on him with his sword, that he 
 forced him to retreat. 
 
 Then said he that attempted to back the lions, " Will 
 you slay me upon mine own ground ?" 
 
 • Wlio IS this giant Grim, who backs the lions and terrifies tlie hearts of pil- 
 gnras with a sense of danger in the right way to the kingdom ? It is an evil heart 
 of unbelief. This Great-heart will fight with, and conquer. O how does unbe- 
 lief multiply dangers, and magnify difficulties; call up fear, and deject our 
 hearts ! Unbelief makes every danger wear a grim and terrible aspect. The only 
 ^eapon to slay this enemy is the sword of the Spirit, which is the wond of God. 
 E-j)h, vi. 17. 
 
 ■(«) Judges V. 6, 7. 
 
318 f:REAT-IIE.\RT SI.WS GKIM. 
 
 Gr.-ii. It is tlie Kinj^'s highway thut \vc arc in, and 
 in this way it is that thou ha^t placed tiic hons ; but 
 these women and these children, though weak, shall 
 jiold on their way in spite of the lions. — And with that 
 Jie gave him again a downright blon-, and brought him 
 upon his knees. With this blow he also broke his 
 helmet, and with the next cut off an arm. Then did 
 the giant roar so hideously, that his voice frighted the 
 %vomen ; and yet they were glad to see him lie sprawl- 
 ing upon the ground. Now die lions were chained, 
 and so of themselves could do nothing.* Wherefore, 
 •when old Grim, that intended to back them, was dead. 
 Great-heart said to the pilgrims, " Come now, and fol- 
 low me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the 
 lions." They therefore went on, but the women trem- 
 bled as they passed by diem ; the boys also looked as 
 if they would die, but they all got by without further 
 hurt. 
 
 Now, when they M-erc \\ ithiu sight of die porter's 
 lodge, they soon came up unto it ; but they made the 
 more haste after this to go thither, because it is dan- 
 gerous travelling 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 diat 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 
 
 • How often, after we liavc fought w itli the courage of faith, and ihc resohitioti 
 of hope, and have overcome a grim envim , have we seen the fiercest of our ene- 
 mies chained by the iiowur of (iod, so as not lo have tlic least power to hurt us ?^ 
 O pilgrim ! it is sweet to reflect, lliat every lion-Uke foe is,under the control of 
 Ihy fiod, and cartiiotcomc one Unk wf tUeir cUaji» uearcf to lUce Uwn thy Lord 
 vill peruiit' 
 
THE PILGRIMS COMMITTED TO WATCHFUL, 319 
 
 hither, where, by my Lord's commandment, they must 
 loda;e : I had been here some time ago, had 1 not 
 been opposed by the giant that used to back the Hons. 
 But I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have 
 cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in 
 safety."* 
 
 For. Will not you go in, and stay till morning ? 
 
 Gr.-h. No. I will return to my Lord to-night. 
 
 Chr. Oh, Sir, I know not how to be willing you 
 should leave us in our pilgrimage : you have been so 
 faithful and so loving to us, you have fought so stoutly 
 for us, you have been so hearty in counselling of us, that 
 I shall never forget your favour towards us. 
 
 Then said Mercy, Oh 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, with- 
 out a friend or defender ? 
 
 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. 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 
 Game from the citv of Destruction ; I am a widow 
 
 * How mindful is our Lord of us ! How gracious is he to us ! What blessed pro-, 
 visions doth lie make for us ! If pilgrims are attacked by Giant Grim, and terrified 
 with the sight of lions, they may be sure, that it is only a pielude to some sweet 
 enjoyment of the Lord's love, and that they are near to some sweet asylum, sorfte 
 sjificttiary of rest, peace and comfort. 
 
326 TflEY ARE WELCOMED AND ENTERTAINED. 
 
 woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was Chris- 
 tian, the pilgrim." " Hou !" said the porter, " was 
 he your husband ?" " Yes," said she, " and these his 
 children ; and this" (pointing to Mercy,) " is one of 
 my townsuomen." Then the porter rang his bell, as 
 at such time he is wont, and there came to the door 
 one of the damsels, whose name was Humble- mind. 
 And to her the porter said, " Go tell it within, that 
 Christiana, the wife of Christian, and her children, are 
 come hither on pilgrimage." She went in, therefore, 
 aiKl told it. But, oh, what noise for gladness was 
 therein, when the damsel did but drop that out of her 
 mouth ! 
 
 So they came with haste to the porter, for Christiana 
 stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave 
 said unto her, " Come in, Christiiuia, come in, thou 
 \\ ife 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 tliat were her children and 
 her companions. Now when they were gone in, they 
 were had into a large room, and bid to sit down : so 
 they sat down, and the chiel" of the house were called 
 to see and \\elcome the guests. Then they came in, 
 and, understanding who they were, did sidute each 
 other with a kiss, and said, " Welcome, ye vessels of 
 the grace of God, ^velcome unto us wno are your faithful 
 friends."* 
 
 Now, because it was somc^vhat late, and because 
 the pilgrims were weary wiUi their journey, and also 
 made faint with the sight of the fight, and Uie terrible 
 lions, the} desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to 
 
 • Here is a blessed mark of being vessels of tlie grace of God, when \*e dcliglr 
 \\\ tbc :ii<;ht of, salute and welcome olliers in tlie way to Zion, and mntnally have 
 our heai IS and aflVctions drawn ont to each other in love. O liow sweet is the IV!- 
 Iuwshi(> of pilgrims below! wlmt must it be above! Infinitely above conception. 
 l.onl, fire our souls with the llionght of ever being with thee and earhcheriu 
 thy kingdom. 
 
CHRISTIANA AND MERCY'S BISCOUHSE. 321 
 
 go to rest. "Nay," said those of the family, "re- 
 fresh yourselves with a. morsel of meat :" for they had 
 prepared for them a lamb, with the accustomed sauce 
 thereto. *(«) For the porter had heard before of their 
 coming, and had told it to them within. So when they 
 had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they 
 desired they might go to rest. " But let us," said 
 Christiana, " if we may be so bold as to choose, be in 
 that chamijerthat was my husband's when he was here." 
 So they had them up thither, and they all lay in a 
 room.(Zi) When they were at rest, Christiana and 
 Mercy entered into discourse about things that were 
 convenient. 
 
 Chr. Little did I think once, when my husband 
 went on pilgrimage, that I should ever have followed 
 him. 
 
 Mer. And you as little thought of lying in his bed, and 
 in his chamber to rest, as you do now.f 
 
 Chr. And much less did I ever think of seeing his 
 face with comfort, and of worshipping the Lord the King 
 with him ; and yet now I believe I shall ! 
 
 Mer. Hark, don't you hear a noise ? 
 
 Chr. Yes, 'tis, as I believe, the noise of music, for 
 joy that we are here. 
 
 Mer. Wonderful! Music in the house, music in the 
 heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we are 
 here !t 
 
 • The Lamb is the food of pilgrims, and the end of their conversation. Reader, 
 can you feed upon Christ by faith ? Is the Lamb the nourishment of thy soul, and 
 the portion of thy heart ? Canst thou say from sweet and blessed experience, his 
 flesh is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed ? Is it thy deli,u;lit to think of 
 liim, hear of liim, speak of him, abide iu him, and live upon him ' O bless liim, and 
 praise him for his mercy. 
 
 •j- Pray, mind the above sweet note, " Christ's bosom is for all pilgrims." It is 
 there the weary find rest, and the burdened soul ease. O for more reclioings of 
 soul upon the precious bosom of our dear Lord ! We can be truly happy no where 
 else. 
 
 t O what precious harmony is this ! how joyful to be the subjects of it^ and to 
 join in it ! The free sovereign grace of God is the delightful theme ; and gloi-y to 
 God in the highest, the universal chorus. It is the wonder and joy of signers or 
 ear^h, and of angels in heaven. 
 
 fa) Esi^.jSi^ 3, i'-f) John i.iJ9. 
 
 41 
 
522 MERCY TELLS CHRISTIANA TIER DREA5L 
 
 Thus they talked awhile, and then betook themselves "f 
 to sleep. So in the morning when they were awaked, 
 Christiana said to Mercy, " what was the matter that you 
 did lau,o;h in your sleep to-night ? I suppose ) ou w as in a 
 dream." 
 
 Mer. So I uas, and a sweet dream it was ; but are 
 you sure I laughed ? 
 
 Chr. Yes; you laughed heartily : but pr'y thee, Mer- 
 cy, tell me thy dream. 
 
 Mer. I was a dreaming that I sat all alone in a solita- 
 ry place, and ^\as bemoaning 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 bemoan- 
 ing the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them 
 laughed at me, some called me fool, and some began to 
 thrust nic 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 com- 
 plaint, he said, " Peace be to thee :" he also \viped 
 mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me in sil- 
 ver and gold. He put a chain upon my neck, and 
 ear-rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crow n upon my 
 head.(rt) Then he took me by the hand, and said, 
 " Mercy, come after me." So he went up, and I lol- 
 lowed, till we came at a golden gate. Then he knock- 
 ed : 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 1 thought that I saw your hus- 
 band there. So 1 awoke from my dream. But did I 
 lauLih '?* 
 
 • Prny observe this dream : it is :t most precious one indeed. We find it time 
 in tlie binmd &Ay of sweet experience ; lor then it is wc gel the most blessed visits 
 from our i,ortl, -when we get by ourselves anil bemo:in tin- deadiiess of our poor 
 llcarts. True, we may be laughed at, i;ilkd tools, and despised by the protaiic. 
 
 (o) Ezek. \<t. 8— l<3i 
 
CHRISTIANA'S REMARK UPON IT. 323 
 
 Chr. Laugh! ay, and well you might, to see your- 
 self 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 
 knot; in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep 
 sleep falleth upon men, in slumbering upon the bed."(a) 
 We need not, when a-bed, to lie awake to talk with 
 God ; he can visit us while we sleep, and cause us then 
 to hear his voice. Our heart oft-times wakes when we 
 sleep ; and God can speak to that, either by \\'ords, by- 
 proverbs, by signs and similitudes, as well as if one was 
 awake.* 
 
 Mer. Well, I am glad of my dream, for I hope, 
 ere long, to see it fulfilled, to the making me laugh 
 again. 
 
 Che. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know 
 what we must do. 
 
 Mer. Pray, if they advise us to stay awhile, let us wil- 
 lingly accept of the proffer. I am the willinger to stay a 
 while here, to grow better acquainted with these maids ; 
 methinks Prudence, Piety, and Charity, have very come- 
 ly and sober countenances. 
 
 Chr. We shall see what they M'ill 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. 
 
 Very good, said Mercy ; it was one of the best night's 
 lodgings that ever 1 had in my life. 
 
 and self-righteous, who do not feel the hardness of their hearts, nor bemoan . 
 themselves for it ; yet tlie loving, compassionate, tender-heaitcd Saviour, is 
 evei' near to us, he feels for us, sj'nipalhizes with us, will manifest himself to 
 ps, and revive us with the sense of peace, the joy of hope, and the comforts of 
 love. 
 
 * O how blessed are they who are watching and waiting continually to hear tlie 
 small still voice of the Spirit, speaking rest and peace to their souls b}' the blood of 
 the Lamb ! O how condescending is our Lord, thus to visit us, and converse will: 
 US in the way to his kingdom ! 
 
 (o) Job xjyiUii li — 16; 
 
324 PRUDENCE CATECHISES JAMES, 
 
 Then said PriKlence and Pietv, if you ^\ill be persuad- 
 ed to stay here awhile, you shall have what tiic house will 
 aftbrd. 
 
 Ay, and that with a very £^ood Avill, said Charity. — 
 So they consented, and staid there about a month or 
 above, and became very profitable one to another. And, 
 because Prudence would sec how Christiana had brought 
 up her children, she asked leave of her to catechise 
 them : so she gave her free consent. Then she be- 
 gan with the }oungest, whose name was James. And 
 slie said, " Come, James, canst thou tell me who made 
 thee ?" 
 
 Jam. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Ho- 
 ly Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saved 
 thee ? 
 
 Jam. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Ho- 
 ly Ghost. 
 
 Prud. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father 
 save thee ? 
 
 Jam. By his gi'ace. 
 
 Prud. How cloth God the Son save thee? 
 
 Jam. Bv his righteousness, and blood, and death, and 
 life. 
 
 Prud. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save 
 thee ? 
 
 Jam. By his illumination, by his renovation, and by his 
 preserN-ation. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Christiana, you are to be com- 
 mended for thus bringing up your children. 1 suppose 
 I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest 
 of them can answer them so well. I ^\ ill therefore now 
 apply myself to the next youngest. 
 
 Then she said, come Joseph, (for his name was Joseph,) 
 will ) ou let me catechise you ? 
 
 Jos. With all my heart. 
 
 Prud. What is 'man ? 
 
 Jos. A reasonable creature, miide so by God, as my 
 brother said. 
 
SAMUEL, JOSEPH, AND MATTHEW. 325 
 
 pRUD. What is supposed by this word, saved? 
 
 Jos. That man by sin has brought himself into a state 
 ©f captivity and misery. 
 
 Pr UD. What is supposed by his being saved by the 
 Trinity ? 
 
 Jos. That sia is so great and mighty a tyrant, that 
 none can pull us out of its clutches, but God ; and that 
 Cod is so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed 
 out of this miserable state. 
 
 Prud. What is God's design in saving poor man ? 
 
 Jos. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and 
 j ustice, &c. and the everlasting happiness of his creature. 
 
 Prud. Who are they that must be saved ? 
 
 Jos. Those that accept of his salvation. 
 
 Prud. Good boy, Joseph; thy mother hath taught 
 thee well, and thou hast hearkened to what she has said 
 unto thee. 
 
 Then said Prudence to Samuel (who was the eldest 
 son but one,) Come, Samuel, are you willing that 1 
 should catechise you also ? 
 
 Sam. Yes, forsooth, if you please. 
 
 Prud. What is heaven ? 
 
 Sam. a place and state most blessed, because God 
 dwelleth there. 
 
 Prud. What is hell ? 
 
 Sam. A place and state most woful, because it is the 
 dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. 
 
 Prud. Why wouldest thou go to heaven ? 
 
 Sam. That I may see God, and serve him without 
 weariness ; that I may see Christ, and love him everlast- 
 ingly ; that I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in 
 me, that I can by no means here enjoy. 
 
 Prud. A very good boy, and one that has learned 
 well. — Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose 
 name was Matthew ; and she said to him, Come, Mat- 
 thew, shall I also catechise you ? 
 
 Mat. With a very good will. 
 
 Prud. I ask, then, if there was ever any thing that had. 
 a bein^ antecetot to, or before God ? 
 
326 PRUDENCE GIVES THE BOYS C.OOD COUNSEL. 
 
 Mat. No ; for God is eternal ; nor is llierc any thing 
 excej)tin£^ liiniself, that liacl a beini^^ until tlie beginning of 
 the first da} : *' For in six da} s the Lord made heaven and 
 cai-th, the sea, and all that in them is." 
 
 Prud. What do you diink of the Bible ? 
 
 Mat. It is the holy word of God. 
 
 PuuD. Is there nothing written there but what you 
 understand ? 
 
 Mat. Yes, a great deal. 
 
 Prud. What do you do when you meet with places 
 therein that you do not understand ? 
 
 Mat. I think God is wiser than I. I ]:)ray also that 
 he will please to let me know all therein, that he knows 
 will be for my good.* 
 
 Prud. How believe you, as touching the resurrection 
 of the dead ? 
 
 Mat. I believe they shall rise, the same that was bu- 
 ried ; 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.f 
 
 Then said Prudence to the boys. You must still heark- 
 en to your mother for she can learn }ou more. You 
 must also diligently give ear to what good talk you shall 
 liear 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 medication of that book, that was the cause 
 of your father's becoming a pilgrim. I, for my part, 
 my childr( n, will teach you what I can while you are 
 here, and shall be glad if you will ask me (piestions that 
 tend to godly edilying. 
 
 " Tliougli tliis is answered villi tlic sinipricily of a cliilil ; yet it is, anil ever 
 wil! be the languaRo of cvt-ry fjitlier in Clirisl. Hajipy lliosc whose spirits an- cast 
 intfi tliis Iiiiinlile blessuil muuld ! O tliat this spirit may accompany us in ail our re- 
 BL-arthrs, in all our ways, anil lhrou};li ail our days. 
 
 + U<"-f- is thi' foundation of faith, and the- triumph of 
 to liis promise, an<l his power to perform, tlaviii}; thes 
 sta;;ger our failli, or deject our hope .' We may, wc on 
 o''j»;ct!ons, and U ample iipou Ml corrupt reasouintr*!. 
 
 I Ue-f is the foundation of faith, and the triumph ol hope, Goil's faithfninrss 
 
 "lese to look lo, what should 
 ousUl to smile al all cai'uil 
 
MEBCyS SUITOR : HER CONDUCT TO HIM. 327 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MR. BRISK PAYS HIS ADDRESSES TO MERCY MATTHEW 
 
 TAKEN ILL, BUT RECOVERS, &o. 
 
 Now by that these pilgrims had been at this place a 
 week Mercy had a visitor that pretended some good will 
 unto her, and his name is 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 of hose and garments for 
 others, and would bestow them upon them 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 house- 
 wife," cjuoth he to himself. 
 
 Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that 
 were of the house, and inquiied of them concerning him ; 
 for they did know him better than she. So they toid her, 
 that he was a very busy young man, and one that pre- 
 tended to religion ; but was, as they feared, a stranger to 
 the power of that which is good. 
 
 Nay then, said Mercy, 1 will look no more on him ; 
 for I purpose never to have a clog to my soul.* 
 
 Prudence then replied, that there needed no great 
 matter of discouragement to be given to him ; for oon- 
 
 • Most blessed resolution ! Ali, pilgrims, if you were more wary, how many 
 troubles would you escape, and liow niucli more happy would you be in your pil- 
 grimage ' It is for want of tlws wisdoni, that many bring evil upon themsclve*. 
 
S28 HE FORSAKES HER. HER REMARKS UPON It*. 
 
 tinning 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, a making of things for the poor. Then said he, 
 " What, always at it ?" " Yes," said she, " either for 
 myself or for others." " And what canst thou cam a 
 day ?" quoth he. " I do these things," said she, " that 
 I may be rich in good works, laying a good foundation 
 against the time to come, that I may lay hold of eternal 
 life."(c) " Why pr'ythee, what dost thou do with 
 them ?" said he. " Clothe the naked," said she. With 
 tliat 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 con- 
 ditions.* 
 
 When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell 
 thee, that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee ? yea, he 
 \\ ill raise up an ill report of thee : for, not\\ithstanding 
 his pretence to religion, and his seeming love to mercy, 
 yet mercy and he are of tempers so different, that 1 be- 
 lieve they will never come together. 
 
 Mer. I might have had husbands before now, 
 though 1 spoke not of it to any ; but they \verc such 
 as did not like my conditions, though never did an) of 
 them find fault with my person. So they and 1 could not 
 agree. 
 
 Prud. Mercy in our days is little set by, any fur- 
 ther than as to its name : the practice, which is set 
 forth by the conditions, there are but few that can 
 abide. 
 
 Well, said Mcrc}', if nobody will have me, I w ill die 
 a maid, or my conditions shall be to me as a husband : 
 
 " How easily are the liest of characters traduceil, and false constructions put 
 upDii llic l)estof actions ? Ui-adcr, is this your lot also ? Mind yoiii- duty. Lmik to 
 your Lord. Persevere in his woi'ks and ways; and leave } our charncter wiili liini, 
 to whom \o\ican trust your soul. For it (iod he for us. \\\>o siiall be agaiuit us ? 
 VTbat shall harm us, if wc be followers of that which is good f 
 
 (fl) I Tim. vi. 17—19. 
 
MAfTHEW SICK. THE PHYSICIAN'S OPIXION. 529 
 
 tor I cannot change my nature ; and to have one that lies 
 cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as 
 long as I live. I had a sister, named Bountiful, married 
 to one of these churls : but he and she could never 
 tigree ; but, because my sister was resolved to do as she 
 had begun, that is, to show kindness to the poor, there- 
 fore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then 
 turned her out of his doors. 
 
 Prud. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you ! 
 
 Mer. Yes, such a one as he was, and such as tht^ 
 world is now full of: 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. f There dwelt 
 -also not far from thence, one Mr. Skill, an ancient and 
 well-approved physician. So Christiana desired it, and 
 they sent for him, and he came : when he was entered 
 the room, and had a little observed the boy, he con- 
 cluded 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 
 maw undigested, and that will not awav without 
 means. And I tell you he must be purged,' or else he 
 will die." 
 
 Then said Samuel, mother, what was that ^vliich my 
 brother did gather and eat, so soon as we were come 
 
 Though we are to beware of a censorious spirit in regard to professors, vet 
 when they give evidence by their walk, that they are .lot what thev profess to be, 
 iiolytol lowers of the Lamb, we are by no meaus to be deceived 'by them Koi- 
 T^ehave an unerring rule laid down by our Lord, to judge of them, " re shall 
 knowthemby the.r truits," Mau.vii. IG; yea, and d ought to be' failhfu o 
 them too, by reproving them m the spirit of humiiitv and love. 
 
 heart sfek ^*^"^' ^'' '"'^' '* """' '*''"''' ^""^ »'''^'' ""'^ conscience, and make the 
 
 . 42 
 
a30 CIIKISTIANA'S CONXERX FOU MATTHEW. 
 
 from tlic 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 did eat.* 
 
 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 tliereof. 
 
 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. 1 do marvel that none did warn you of it ; 
 many have died thereof. f 
 
 "^J'hen Christiana began to cry ; and she said, " O 
 naughty boy ! and O careless mother! what shall I do 
 lor my son '?" 
 
 Skill. Come, do not be too dejected ; the boy may 
 do well again, but he must purge and vomit. 
 
 Ckr. Pra}-, Sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, 
 whatever it costs. 
 
 Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. — So he 
 made him a purge, but it ^vas too weak ; it was Siiid, 
 it was made of die blood of a goat, the ashes of a 
 heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, &c.(a) 
 When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too 
 A\eak, he made him one to the jjurpose : it was made 
 ex came et saiiguine Christi :X{b) (you know, physi- 
 
 * Observe liow usi ful pilgrims arc to each other, in faithfully reminding of their 
 e:>n(luct. 'I'hougli this sin was committed some lime past, and neither .Matlhtw 
 nor his mother thought of it ; jet it must be brought to light, and repented of 
 
 I' Here is conviction for the mother, in not warning of sin, and chiding for IL 
 Slif li»kcs it home, falls under the sense of it, and is grieved for it. A tender con- 
 science is a blessed sign of a gracious lieart. Ve parents, who know tlie love of 
 Christ, watch over jour children ; see to it, lest ve smart for their sins, in not 
 »varning and leaching them, that the fear of the Lord is to depart from all evil ; 
 } ea, to abstain from the \ery appearance of it. 
 
 \ Mr. Itunyan's great modesty and humility are tnily admirable; though he 
 •luotcs Latin, yet as he did not understand it, he tells us iu the margin, •' the Latin 
 
 (n) Ilcb. ix. 13—19. x. 1—5. {h) John vi. 54—37. Ilcb. i.\. Ik 
 
BY MEANS OF PILLS, MATTHEW RECOVERS. 33,1 
 
 cians give strange medicines to their patients : ) and it was 
 made \ip into pills, with a promise or two, and a pro- 
 portionable quantity of salt, (a) Now he was to take 
 them three at a time, fasting, in half a quarter of a pint 
 of the tears of repentance.(^) When this potion Avas 
 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, to sleep, and 
 to rest quietly ; it put him into a fine heat and breathing- 
 sweat, and rid him of his gripes.* 
 
 So in a litde time he got up, and walked about with a 
 staif, and would go from room to room, and talk A\ith 
 Prudence, Piety, and Charity, of his distemper, and how 
 he was healed. 
 
 So, when the boy Mas healed, Christiana asked Mr. 
 Skill, saying, " Sir, what ^^ill content you for your 
 
 I boiTOw." The EngVish is, " Of the flesh and of tlie Wood of Christ.'' This is 
 the only potion for sin-siek souls. Feeding upon Christ's ilesh and blood by iailh, 
 keeps us from sinning, and when sick of sin, these, and nothing but these, can 
 heal and restore us. Yet there is iu our nature an unaccountable reluctance to re- 
 ceive these, througli the unbelief which works in us. So Maltliew found it. 
 
 * See the blessed effects of receiving Christ, when under the sense of sin, and 
 distress for sin. O what a precious Saviour is Jesus ! what efficacy is there in his 
 blessed fleshj and precious blood, to purge the conscience from guilt. It is this 
 sense of Christ's love and grace, which heals, restores, aud makes our heaili 
 tappy and joyful in God ! 
 
 («) Mark ix. 49, {b) Zcch. xii. 10. 
 
332 EFFICACY OF THESE PILLS. 
 
 pains and care to me, and of my child ?" And he said(, 
 " You must pay the Master of the College of Physi- 
 cians according to rules made in that case, and provi- 
 ded. "(«) 
 
 But, Sir, said she, a\ hat is this pill good for else ? 
 
 Skill. It is an universal pill ; it is good against all 
 diseases that pilgrims are incident to ; and, when it is 
 ■\\eH prepared, \vill keep good time out of mind. 
 
 Chr. Pray, Sir, make me up twelve boxes of 
 them ; for, if I can get these, 1 will never take other 
 physic. 
 
 Skill. These pills are good to prevent diseases, as 
 well as to cure when one is sick.* Yea, I dare say it, 
 nnd stand to it, that if a man w ill but use this phvsic as 
 hi.^ should, it will make him live for ever.((5) But good 
 Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way, but 
 as I have prescribed : for if you do, they n ill do no 
 good. So he gave unto Christiana physic for herself, and 
 her bo} s, and for Mercy ; and bid Matthew take heed 
 liow he eat any more green plumbs ; and kissed him, and 
 went his way. 
 
 It was told you before that Prudence bid the boys, 
 that if at any time they would, diey should ask her some 
 questions that might be profitable, and she would say 
 something to them. 
 
 Then ISIatthew, who had been sick, asked her. Why, 
 for the most part, physic should be bitter to our 
 palates ? 
 
 Prud. To show how unwelcome the word of God, 
 ;md the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. 
 
 Mat. Why does physic, if it does good, purge, and 
 cause to vomit "? 
 
 • O piljjrims, let not a day pass without having recourse to the life and death of 
 
 the Son of (•od, ami live by fuilli upon liim, who shcil ills hlood to save us, and 
 ciw» liis fli!sh to iinurisli us, and who 8a)s, "My flesh is meat indeed, auU mj 
 blood is diiuk ii.d.ed " 
 
 (a) Ucb. xiii. U— IS. (^) JoUu vi. jS. 
 
fRUDENCE ANSWERS MATTHEW'S QUESTIONS- 333 
 
 pRUD. To show, that the word, when it works ef- 
 fectually, cleanseth the. heart and mind. For, look, 
 what the one doeth to the body, the other doeth to the 
 soul. 
 
 Mat. 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 ? 
 
 Prud. 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 lieat, beams, and sweet influen- 
 ces downwards, \ve are taught that the Saviour of the 
 world, though high, reaches down with his grace and 
 love to us below. 
 
 Ma t. Where have the clouds their water ? 
 
 Prud. Out of the sea. 
 
 Mat. What may we learn from that ? 
 
 Prud. That ministers should fetch dieir doctrine from 
 God. 
 
 Mat. Why do they empty themselves upon the 
 earth ? 
 
 Prud. To show that ministers should give out what 
 they know of God to the world. 
 
 Mat. Why is the rainbow caused by the sun ? 
 
 Prud. To show, that the covenant of God's grace 
 is confirmed to us in Christ. 
 
 Mat. Why do the springs come from the sea to us 
 through the earth ? 
 
 Prud. To show, that the grace of God comes to us 
 through the body of Christ. 
 
 Mat. Why do some of the springs rise out of the 
 top of high hills ? 
 
 Prud. To show, that the Spirit of grace shall spring 
 up in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many 
 that are poor and low. 
 
 Mat. Why doth the fire fasten upon the candlewick ? 
 Prud. To show, that, unless grace doth kindle upon 
 the hciirt, there will be no true light of life in us. 
 
534 THEIR QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS CONTIXUED. 
 
 Mat. Why is tlie wick, and tallow, and all, spent 
 to maintain the light of the candle ? 
 
 Prud. To show, that body and soul, and all, should 
 be at the service of, and spend themselves to maintain 
 in good condition, that grace of God that is in us. 
 
 Mat. Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast 
 with her bill ? 
 
 Prud. To nourish her young ones with her blood, 
 and thereby to show that Christ the blessed, so lowth 
 his young, his people, as to save them from death by 
 his blood. 
 
 Mat. What may one learn by hearing of the cock 
 crow ? 
 
 Prud. Learn to remember Peter's sin, and Peter's 
 repentance. The cock's crowing shows also, that day 
 is coming on ; let then the crowing of the cock put thee 
 in mind of that last and terrible day of judgment. 
 
 Now about this time their month was out ; where- 
 fore they signified to those of. the house, that it was 
 convenient for them to up and be going. Then said 
 Joseph to his mother, "It is convenient 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 the rest of our 
 way." " Good boy," said she, " I had almost for- 
 got." So she drew up a petition, and pra}ed 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 
 the}' had a purpose to go forward, they called the whole 
 house together, to give thanks to their King, for send- 
 ing of them such profitable guests as these. Which 
 done, they said unto Christiana, " And shall we not 
 show thee something, according as our custom is to 
 
EVE'S APPLE. JACOB'S LADDER, &c. 355 
 
 do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when 
 thou art on tlie wdyV\ 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. *(c) 
 
 Then they had her to a place, and showed her Ja- 
 cob's ladder. Now at that time there were some an- 
 gels ascending upon it. So Christiana looked, and 
 looked to see the angels go up ; so did the rest of the 
 company. ((5) Then they w^re going into another 
 place, to show them something else : but James said 
 to his mother, " Pray bid them stay a little longer, for 
 this is a curious sight." So they turned again, and 
 stood feeding their eyes on this so pleasant a pros- 
 pect. — After this they had them into a place, where 
 there did hang up a golden anchor : so they bid Chris- 
 tiana 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, 
 and stand steadfast in case you should meet with turbu- 
 lent weather : — so they were glad thereof.t(c) — Then 
 they took them, and had them to the mount upon 
 
 • It is not enough that the Holy Spii-it convinces us of sin, previous to our first 
 setting out on pilgrimage, and makes us sensible of our want of Christ, but he also 
 keeps up a sight and sense of tlie evil of sin, in its original nature, as >» ell as oui- 
 actual transgressions. This often makes us wonder at sin, at ourselves, and at 
 the love of Christ in becoming a sacrifice for our sins. 
 
 f This is the anchor of hope. This keeps ilie soul safe, and steady to Jesus^ 
 •who is the alone object of our hope, Hope springs from faith. It is an expectation 
 of the fulfilment of those things that are promised in the word of truth, by the 
 God of all grace. Faith receives them, trusts in them, relies upon them, and hops 
 waits for the full accomplishment and enjoyment of them. 
 
 (a) Gen. iii. 1—6. Rom. vii. 24. (6) Gen. xxTiiJ, 12, 
 
 (c) Joel iii. 16. Hcb. yi, 19. 
 
S36 GRE\T.HEART ARRIVIN^G, THEY GO FORWARD. 
 
 Avhich Abraham our fatlicr had offered up Isaac his son, 
 and showed them tlie altar, tlic wood, the fire, and the 
 knife ; for they remain to be seen to this very day. — 
 When they had seen it, they held up their hands, and 
 blessed themselves, and said, " Oh what a man for love 
 to his Master, and for denial to himself, was Abra- 
 ham !" After they had showed them all these thinj^s. 
 Prudence took them into a dining-room, where stood 
 a pair of excellent virginals ; so she played upon them, 
 and turned a\ hat she had showed them into this excellent 
 song, saying, 
 
 " Eve's apple wc have showed you ; 
 
 Of that be you aware ; 
 You have seea Jacobs ladder too. 
 
 Upon which angels are : 
 An anchor you received have; 
 
 But let not this suffice. 
 Until with Abra'am you have gave 
 
 Your best for sacrifice." 
 
 No"W abotit this time one knocked at the door : so the 
 porter opened, and, behold, Mr. Great- heart was there ! 
 But when he was come in, w hat joy was there ! for it 
 came now frcsli again into their minds, how but a while 
 ago he had slain old Grim Bloody -niau the giant, and had 
 delivered them from the lions. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana and to Mere}', 
 IVIy Lord has sent each of you a bottle of u ine, and albO 
 some parched corn, together with a couple of pome- 
 granates ; he 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 \\ iih them. VV hen 
 they came at the gate, Christiana asked the porter, if 
 any of late went by. He said, No, only one, some 
 time since, who also told me, that of late there had 
 
 • O liow rcvivii.<;an() refrcsliing arc those 'ovc-trik.-ns from our l^nl ! GreJt- 
 licnrt ncvti" comes tHUply-haiiUed. He always inspires with eour»j;c and cmE- 
 •icnrc. 
 
THEY TAKE LEAVE OP WATCHFUL. 237 
 
 been a great robbery committed on the King's high- 
 way, as you go : but, said he, the thieves are taken, 
 and will shortly be tried Tor 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 1 came hither ; and also that you have beea 
 so loving and kind to my children ; I know not how to 
 gratify your kindness : wherefore, pray, as a token of 
 my respects to you, accept of this small mite. So she 
 put a gold angel* in his hand ; and he made her a low 
 obeisance, and said, " Let thy garments be always white, 
 and let thy head want no ointment. Let Mercy live and 
 not die, and let not her works be few," And to the 
 boys he said, " Do you flee youthful lusts, and follow 
 after godliness with them that are grave and wise ; so 
 shall you put gladness into your mother's heart, andi ob- 
 tain praise of all that are sober-minded." — So they 
 thanked the porter, and departed. 
 
 * No wonder that the pilgrims were thankful for their kind enter'tainment, or 
 that they testified their esteem of the gospel, and its glorious Author, by the pres= 
 ent they made to the porter ;' for sa}s St Paul, in behalf of the ministers of the 
 •word, " If we have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a great tljiug if we shaU 
 jreap your carnal things ?" 
 
 43 
 
338 CHRISTIANA HEARS CURIOUS NOTI^. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS PURSUE THEIR JOTTRVKV. AND PASS THROUGH 
 THE VALLEY OF HUAUUATION, AND OF THE SHADOW 
 OF DEATH. 
 
 Now I saw in my dream, that they \vent forward until 
 they were eomc to tlie brow of the hill, where Piety, be- 
 thinking 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. 
 When she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a 
 grove, a little way off on the right hand, a most curious 
 melodious note, with words much like these : 
 
 " Through all my life thy favour is 
 So frankly show'd to me, 
 That iu thy house lor evermore 
 My dwelling-place shall be." 
 
 And listening still she thought she heard another an. 
 swer it, saying, 
 
 " For why ! The Lord our God is good. 
 His mercy is for ever sure : 
 His truth at all times firmly stood. 
 And shall from age to age endure." 
 
 So Christiana asked Prudence what it was that made 
 those curious notes. They are, said she, our country 
 birds : they sing these notes but seldom, except it be 
 at the spring, when the flowers appear, and the sun 
 shines warm, and then you may hear them all the day 
 long. I often, said she, go to hear them ; we also oft- 
 times keep them tame in our house. They are very fine 
 company for us when \\c are mclanchol}' ; also they make 
 the woods and groves, and solitary places, places desirous 
 to be in.*(c) 
 
 • Vou see these joyful notes spring from a sense of nearness to tlie Lord, and a 
 firm confidence iu his dif iue truth and everlasting mercy, O when the Sou oS' 
 
 (a) Sol. Song. ii. 11, 13. 
 
GREAT-HEART ENCOURAGES THE PILGRIMS. 339 
 
 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 ma}'est look when thou iindest thyself forget- 
 ful, and call those things again to remembrance, for thy 
 edification and comfort. 
 
 Now they began to go down the hill to 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 your husband 
 met with the foul fiend Apollyon, and where they had 
 the great fight that they had : I know you cannot but 
 have heard thereof. But be of good courage ; as long 
 as you have Mr. Great-heart here to be your guide and 
 conductor, we hope you will fare the better. So when 
 these two had committed the pilgrims unto the con- 
 duct of their guide, he went forward, and they went 
 after. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, We need not be so 
 afraid of this valley, for here is nothing to hurt us, un- 
 less we procure it ourselves. It is true, Christian did 
 meet here 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. (a) And 
 hence it is that this A'alley 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 
 
 righteousness shines warmly on the soul, and gives us clearly to see these, it makes 
 the pilgrims sing most sweetly, and shout most joyfully indeed. These songs ap- 
 proach very nearly to the lieavenly music in the realm of glory. 
 
 * After being thus highly favoured with sensible comforts in the views of faith, 
 the comforts of hope, and the joys of love ; see the next step those pilgrims are 
 to take ; it is down the hill Difficulty, into the valley of Humiliation. What doth 
 this place signify ? A deep and abiding sight and sense of ourselves ; of our ruined 
 Mate, lost couditiOD, and desperate circumstances, as fallen sinners. 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 114—119. 
 
340 JAMES PERCEI\^g THE PILLAK. 
 
 foul fiend, or evil spirit ; when, alas ! it is for the fruit of 
 their doing, that such things do befall them there.* 
 
 This valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place 
 as any the crow flics over ; and I am persuaded, if we 
 could hit upon it, we might find somewhere hereabout 
 somctliing that might give us an account, why Christian 
 was so hardly beset in this place. 
 
 Then James said to his mother, " Lo, yonder stands 
 a pillar, and it looks as if something w'as WTitten there- 
 on ; let us go and st;e what it is." So they went, and 
 found there >\ritten, " Let Christian's slips, before he 
 came hither, and the burden that he met with in this 
 place, be a warning to those that come after." " Lo," 
 said their guide, " did 1 not tell you that there was some- 
 thing hereabouts, that would give intimation of the 
 reason why Christian was so hard beset in this place ?'* 
 Then, turning to Christiana, he said, no disparage- 
 ment to Christian, more than to many others whose 
 hap and lot it was. For it is easier going up than 
 down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in 
 all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good 
 man, he is at rest, he also had a brave ^'ictory over his 
 enemy : let Him that dwelleth above, grant that we fare 
 no worse, when we come to be tried, than he ! 
 
 Bnt we will come again to this valley of Humilia- 
 tion. — It is the best and most fruitful piece of ground 
 in all these parts. It is a fat ground ; and, as you sec, 
 consisteth much in meadow s ; 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 de- 
 lighted himself in the sight of his eyes, he might see 
 
 • Wliat ft p;i-e:it bk'ssinjj it is to hi\\c Great-Heart in the Valley of Humility ! 
 How sad is it for pilgrims to ]>rocnre evils for themselves by their sin and folly '. 
 How joyfid is it to know that, " like as a father pitii-ih his children, so tlie Lord 
 piticth them -who fear him !" Ps. ciii !.'>. Vet if we slip, we sliall he sure tosmart. 
 If we do not hold fast faith, hope, love, and ohedience, Satan will attack, distress 
 us in sonic sort, and prevail against iis, and tljen v« sliall bring up an oil report 
 of the safe and fruitful valley of Humiliation. 
 
THE SHEPHERD'S BOY. 341 
 
 *> 
 
 that which would be delightful to him. Behold how 
 green this valley is ; also how beautiful with lilies. («) 
 i have also known many labouring men that have got 
 good estates in this valley of Humiliation ; (for " God 
 resisteth the proud, but giveth more grace to the 
 humble ;") for 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 flither's sheep. The boy was 
 in very mean clothes, but of a fresh and well-flivoured 
 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 ; 
 
 Fie that is low, no pride : 
 He that, is humble ever shall 
 
 Have God to be his guide. 
 I ani 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 pilo;rimase : 
 Here little, and hereafter bliss, 
 
 Is best from age to age."(6) 
 
 Then said the guide, Do you hear him ? I will dare 
 to say this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more 
 
 * TIious'' this valley of Humi)iation may be very terrifying to pilgrims, after 
 they have been favoured with peace and joy, and comforted by the views of faitli 
 and hope ; yet it is a very safe place, and tbongh at first entering into it, and seeing 
 more of themselves than was ever before showed tliem, they may fear and trem- 
 ble ; yet after some time continuing here, they are more reconciled and contented; 
 for here they find the visits of their Lord ; and. in the depths of their humility, 
 they behold the heights of his love, and the depths of his mercy, cry out, Tiiougli 
 I am emptied of all, yet I have an inexhaustible fulness in Jesus, to supply me 
 'X'/ith all I want, and all I hope. 
 
 (c3i Sol. Song. ii. 1. James iv. 6, 1 Pet. T. 5: 
 {b) Heb. xiik 5. 
 
342" CHRIST LOVED TO DWELL LV THE VALLEY. 
 
 of the herb called heart'' s-ease m his bosom, than lie 
 that is clad in silk and velvet. But we ^vill proceed in 
 our discourse. 
 
 In this valley our Lord formerlv had his country- 
 house, he lo\cd much to be here : he loved also to walk 
 in these meadows, and 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 Aallcy of Humiliation is that 
 empty and solitary place. Here a man shall not be 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 with Apollyon, and to enter with 
 him a brisk encounter; vet, I must tell you, that in 
 former times men haA e met w ith angels here, have found 
 jDcarls here, and ha^'e in this place found the words of 
 ]ife.*(c) 
 
 Did I sav, our Lord had here in former davs his 
 country house, and that he loved here to w^alk ? I \vill 
 add, in this place, and to the people that Ii\e and trace 
 these grounds, he has left a yearly revenue, to be faith- 
 fully paid them at certain seasons for their maintenance 
 by the way, and for their further encouragement to go on 
 their pilgrimage. 
 
 Now, as they went on, Samuel said to Mr. Great, 
 heart; " Sir, I perceive that in tiiis -valley my father and 
 AjJoUyon had their battle ; but Avhereabout \vas the fight ? 
 ior I perceive this valley is large." 
 
 Gr.-h. Your father had the battle with Apollyon at 
 a place yonder before us, in a narrow passage, just be- 
 yond forgetful green. And indeed that place is the 
 most dangerous place in all these parts : for if at any 
 
 • Ever rf'mcm1)er the woitl of our pracions Lord, " It is enoui;!! for the disi-i- 
 \\\c thut ho ho :is liis Master." If your Lord made it his chief (h'lipht (o be in llils 
 valley of lluinirfalion, ham from his example to prize this valley. Though you 
 may meet with an A|)i)lly()n, or i\ destroyer here ; yet you are safe in the arms, 
 »iid under the power of your all-eonqucring Lord ; lor ikough the Lord is highj, 
 jcl halU he rcsiuci uuto lU>; lowly. 
 
 (h) IIos. ii. 4, 5! 
 
FORGETFUL GREEN. 343 
 
 time pilgrims meet with any brunt, it is when they for- 
 get what favours they have received, and how unwor- 
 thy 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 m} self, that to 
 this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or 
 some monument to testify that such a battle was there 
 fought. 
 
 Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this val- 
 ley as I have been any where else in all our journey t 
 the place, methinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be 
 in such places where there is no rattling with coaches, 
 ■nor rumbling with \vheels : 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 be- 
 come as " the fish-pools of Heshbon." They that 
 go rightly tlirough this " valley of Bacha, 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 them their vineyards ; (a) and they that go through 
 it shall sing as Christian did, for all he met with Apol- 
 lyon. 
 
 It is 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 conductor to several pilgrims, 
 and they have confessed the same. " To this man 
 will I look" (saith the King,) " even to him that is 
 poor, and of a contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my 
 word." 
 
 * O pilgrims, attend to this ? Pride and ingratitude go hand in hand. Study, 
 ever study the favours of your Lord : liow freely they are bestowed upon ypii ; 
 and how utterly unworthy you are of the least of tliem. Beware of Forgetful 
 
 Grecii, ^ ' •' 
 
 (fl) Sol. Song, vii, 4. Ps. Ixsrxiv. 6, IIos. ii. IX 
 
344 MEMORIALS OF CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY. 
 
 Now tliey were come to the place wliere the aforc- 
 niciitioncd battle was fought. Then said the guide to 
 Ciiristiana, her children, and Mercy, This is the place ; 
 on this ground Christian stood, and up there came 
 ApoUyon against him : and, look, did not 1 tell you, 
 here is some of your husband's blood upon these 
 stones to this da}' : 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 heen there, 
 e\en he himself. VV hen Apollyon was beat, he made 
 liis 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 engra- 
 ven this battle, and Cliristian'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, w hich word for 
 word w as this : 
 
 " Ilard by liere Avas a battle fougl)t, 
 
 Blost strange and yet most true ; 
 CliristJaii and Apollyon sought 
 
 Each other to subdue. 
 The man so bravely playM the maD, 
 
 He made the fiend to fly ; 
 Of whicli a monument I siaud, 
 
 Tlic same to testily.' f 
 
 When they had passed by this place, they came up- 
 on the borders of the Shadow of Death, and this valley 
 
 • If Satan he driven back from one attack, prepare for another. Bless God 
 for vciur armour. Never piil it oft' 
 
 fMoniimciits of victory over Satan, are to God's glory, and arc very animal- 
 in*; anil eiicoura';ing lo liiose who lonie after ri-oclaini, O Cliristians. your mer- 
 cies with tiiankfiiint'ss, and )our viclort<;8 with shouva oi' iiuittilit^j 10 Ute houour of 
 tJic CuiKain ol our sHlvuliou. 
 
THE, VALLEY OP THE SHADOW OF DEATH. 345 
 
 was longer than the other ; a place also most strongly 
 haunted with evil things, as many are able to testify : but 
 these women and children went the better through it, be- 
 cause they had day-light, and because Mr. Great- heart was 
 their conductor. 
 
 When they were entered upon this valley, they thought 
 that they heard a groaning, as of dead 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 com- 
 fort. 
 
 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 she had given her at the Interpreter's 
 house, and three of the pills that Mr. Skill had prepar- 
 ed ; and the boy began to revive. Thus they \vent on, 
 till they came to about the middle of the valley ; and 
 then Christiana said, " Methinks, I see something yon- 
 der 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 hke V 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." 
 
 * None know the distress, anguish, and fear, that haunt pilgrims in this val- 
 ley, but those ■who liave been in it. The hissings, revilings, and injections of 
 that old serpent, with his infernal malice, seem to be let loose upon pil- 
 grims in this valley. Asaph seeras to be walking in this valley, when he 
 says, " As for me, my feet Tvere almost gone : my steps had well nigh siipt." 
 Ps. Ixsiii. 7. 
 
 44 
 
346 THEY ARE GREATLY ALAR^fED ; 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Great-heart, " let them that are most 
 afraid, keep close to me." So the fiend came on, and "he 
 conductor met it ; but when it was just come to him, it 
 vanished to all their sights ; then remembered they \\ hat 
 Iiad been said sonic time ago ; " Resist the devil, and he 
 ^\ill flee from you.','* 
 
 'J^hey went therefore on, as being a little refreshed ; but 
 they had not gone fir, before Mercy, looking behind her, 
 saw, as she thought, something almost like a lion, and 
 it came a great padding pace after ; and it had a hollow 
 voice of roaring ; and at every roar that it gave, it made 
 the valley echo, and all their hearts to ache, save the 
 heart of him that was their guide. So it came up ; 
 and Mr. Great-heart went behind, and put the pil- 
 grims all before him. The lion also came on apace, 
 and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him 
 battle. But when he saw that it was determined that 
 resistance should be made, he also drew back and came 
 no further.! (a) 
 
 Then they went on again, and their conductor did 
 go before them, till they came at a place where was 
 cast up a pit the whole breadth of the \\ay ; and, be- 
 fore they could be prepared to go over that, a great 
 mist and a darkness fell upon them, so that they could 
 not sec. Then said the pilgrims, " Alas ! now w hat 
 shall wc do ?" But their guide made answer, " Fear 
 not, stand still, and sec what an end will be put to this 
 also." So they staid there, because their path was 
 
 • Let Satan appear in \vhat shape lie wUl, we ought ever to put on great lieart 
 and good courage. For tlie faitli of what Jesus is to us, will inspire with these. 
 )jC;t US f VLT look to (Jhi'ist our coii<|uui-or, and evi-r iisibt our adversary. 
 
 f Satan is often most dreadful at a distance, and courngedusl) resisted when ad- 
 vanced nearer. This advice is ever needful: " Be sober; he vigilant" These 
 fiilgriins did kcci> up their watch ; Satan did not come upon them unawares ; ihe.y 
 Vieard his approach ; tiiey were prepared for his attack ; lo, Satan drew back. 
 
 (rt) I Pet. T. 8. 
 
BUT TAKE ENCOURAGEMET^T FROM TEIEIR GUIDE. 347 
 
 marred. They then also thought they did hear more 
 apparently the noise and rushing of the enemies ; the 
 jfire also, and smoke of the pit was much easier to be 
 discerned.* Then said Christiana to I^lercy, Now I 
 see what my poor husband went through ; I have heard 
 much of tliis 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 spoke of it, but none can tell 
 what the A'alley of the Shadow of Death should mean 
 until they come in themselves. " The heart knows its 
 own bitterness; a stranger intermeddleth not with it? 
 joy." To be here is a fearful thing.f 
 
 Gr.-h. This is like doing business in great wa- 
 ters, 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."| 
 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 1 am ; and yet you see I am alive. 
 I would not boast, for that I am not my own saviour : 
 but I trust vve shall have a good deliverance. Come, 
 pray for light to him that can lighten our darkness, 
 and can rebuke not only these, but all the devils in 
 hell. 
 
 * Awful walking, with a pit before us, and darkness around,'and hell seeming to 
 move from beneath to meet us ! O what an unspeakable mercy, in such a distress- 
 ing season, to have an almighty Saviour to look to, and call upon for safety and sal- 
 vation! For " he will hear our cry and save us." 
 
 f To hear of the soul-distresses of others, is one thing : to experience them 
 oui'selves. is very different. 
 
 ^ This precious text, Isa. 1, 10. has been a sheet anchor to njany a soul undep 
 j^larkness aad distress. Study it deeply. 
 
348 THEY ARE TROUBLED WITH SNARES. 
 
 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 stopt with a 
 pit. Yet they were not got through the valley ; so they 
 went on still, and, behold, great stinks and loathsome 
 smells, to the great annoyance of them. Tlien said 
 ]\Iercy to Chrisiiana, There is not such pleasant being 
 here as at the gate, or at the Interpreter's, or at the house 
 where we lay l;;st. 
 
 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 made 
 the sweeter to us.* 
 
 Weil said, Samuel, quoth the guide ; thou hast now 
 spoke like a man. Why, if ever 1 get out here again, 
 said the boy, I think 1 shall prize light and good way 
 better than ever I did in 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 
 snares. So they looked to their feet and went on ; but 
 they were troubled much w ith 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 Heed- 
 less, that was going this way ; he has lain there a great 
 while :t There was one Takeheed witii him when he 
 was taken and slain ; but he escaped their hands. You 
 
 • Precious thought ! under llic worst and most distressing circumstances. Think 
 of this. Tlitir co.itinuance is short. Their appointment loTc. And tlieir end 
 Ehall he crowned with glory. 
 
 f Uicillcss proffcsors be warned. The doctrines of grace were never intended 
 to lull iiriy asleep in carnal scimily. If they do so liy you, it is a sure sign, that 
 wjjal should have been for your hcaltli, proves an occasion of yonr falling. 
 
GIANT MAUL AND GEEATHEABT. 349 
 
 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 their way, and just 
 there where Christian had seen the cave when he went 
 by,(a) 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 thieves. 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 endeavour to turn men, women, and children, from 
 darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God ; 
 
 * How many such giants have we in the present day, who deceive and beguile 
 precious souls into a false and fatal security, by their smooth lectures on morality, 
 and their avowed oppositions to the gospel of Christ, and the way to his king- 
 dom. 
 
 (n) Parti, p. 127, 
 
350 GREAT-HEART'S COMBAT WITH 
 
 and if this be indeed the {ground of tliy quarrel, let us 
 fall to it as soon as thou wilt.* 
 
 Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great-heart \vent 
 to meet him ; and as he went, he drew his sword, but the 
 giant had a club. So without more ado they foil to it, 
 and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great- heart 
 down upon one of his knees ; with that the uonicn and 
 children cried : so Mr. Great-heart recovering himself, 
 laid about him in full lust}- manner, and gave the giant a 
 wound in his arm ; that 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.f 
 
 When they had rested them, and taken breath, the}' 
 both fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart with a full 
 blow, fetched the giant do\An to the ground : Nay, hold, 
 let me recover, quoth he. So Mr. Great-heait let him 
 fairly get up : so to it they went again, and the giant 
 missed but a little of breaking Mr. Great-heart's skull 
 with his club. 
 
 Mr. Great-heart seeing that, runs to him in the 
 fr.U heat of his spirit, and pierced him luider the fifth 
 rib ; with that the giant began to faint, and could hold 
 up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great-heart se- 
 conded his blow, and smote the head of the giant from 
 his shoulders. Then the \vomen and children rejoiced, 
 
 • To nwnkon our souls, nnd lead tlicm to Christ for life and salv:tlion, is tlx 
 Ijlessed work of fuitliful ministers. In the spirit of love and meekness, they will 
 contnid lor the faith, liowrvcr tlicy may he ill-treatod for their M'ork. 
 
 "} The {greatest heart cannot witlistaiid withotit pi-aycr, nor conquer vilhout the 
 ftlmiglity power of God. The belief of this will excite prayer. 
 
AND VICTORY OVER GIANT MAUI/* 351 
 
 and Mr. Great-heart also praised God, for the deliverance 
 he had \rrought.* 
 
 When this was done, they among themselves erected 
 a pillar, and fastened the giant's head thereon, and wrote 
 under it, in letters that passengers might read, 
 
 He that did wear this head was one 
 
 Thai pilgrims did misuse ; 
 He stopt their way, he spared none, 
 
 But did them all abuse ; 
 Until lliat I Great-heart arose, 
 
 The pilgrims guide to be ; 
 Until that I did him oppose, 
 
 That was their enemy. 
 
 • Many sueh a battle has been fought, and many such a victory obtained, since 
 the reformation, over the enemies of our roost holy faith. 
 
 The furious attack made by Maul the giant on the conductor, is to show us, that 
 lireiy and active ministers of the gospel, who are zealous to win souls, must expect 
 the opposition of Satan and his emissaries. But must they therefore desist ? God 
 forbid ! The Lord is on their side. Let them be accounted " kidnappers," and 
 treated as enthusiasts: the Master whom thej serve will succeed their endeavours; 
 hear the prayers of his people ; and make them more than conquerors. Thus 
 •were the pilgrims brought out of the valley ; while danger and darkness rendered 
 returning light, and the thoughts of heaven, the sweeter ; and many thanksgiy» 
 ings redounded to the glory of God. 
 
 By glimm'ring hopes, and gloomy feai-s. 
 
 We trace the sacred road; 
 Through dismal deeps, and dangerous snares, 
 
 We make our way to God. 
 
 " Long nights and darkness dwell below, 
 
 AVith scarce a twinkling ray ; 
 But the bright world to which we go. 
 Is everlasting dav. 
 
352 THE riLGUIAfS ARE REFRESIiED.' 
 
 CHAPTER Vlir. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS OVERTAKE MR. HONEST, WHO RELATES HIS 
 OWN EXPERIENCE, AND THAT OF MR. FEARING. 
 
 Now I saw that they went 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. )(a) Wherefore here 
 they sat down, and rested : they also here did eat and 
 drink, and made merry ; for that they had gotten deli- 
 verance 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 lo\e to my master and you, 
 and shall be a means by grace, to increase my reward at 
 last. 
 
 But was you not afraid, good Sir, when you saw him 
 come with his club ?* 
 
 It is my duty, said he, to mistrust my own ability, that 
 I may have reliance on him that is stronger than all. But 
 what did you think, when he fetched you down to the 
 ground at the first blow ? ^^^hy, I thought, quoth he, 
 that so my Master himself was served, and yet he it was 
 that conquered at last.((^) 
 
 Matt. When you have all thought what }'ou please, 
 I think God has been wonderful good unto us, both 
 in bringing us out of this valley, and delivering us out 
 of the hand of this enemy ; for my part, I see no rea- 
 son why Me should distrust our God any more, since 
 
 • This clubwc may sui)])0sc to mean humnn power, under ■wliich mnny Rodly 
 ministeta in lUe last century suiTored greatly, liksscd be God m c have uolliing of 
 ibis to feaf in our day. 
 
 (n) Part I. p. 129. (A) ^Cor. iv. 
 
THEY OVERTAKE MR. HONEST. 3^3 
 
 he has now, and in such a place as this, given us such 
 testimony of his love as this. 
 
 Then they got up, and went forward : now a little 
 before them stood an oak, and under it, when they 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 ?* 
 
 Gr.-h. Come, man, be not so hot, here is none but 
 friends : yet the old man gets up, and stands upon his 
 guard, and will know of them what they were. Then 
 said the guide. My name is Great-heart, I am a guide 
 of these pilgrims, which are going to the Celestial 
 country. 
 
 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. Why, what would, or could you have done, 
 or have helped yourself, if we indeed had been of that 
 company. 
 
 Hon. Done ! Why I would have fought as long as 
 breath had been in me ; and had I so done, I am sure 
 you could never have given me the worst on't ; for a 
 Christian can never be overcome unless he should yield 
 of himself t 
 
 Gr.-h. Well said, father Honest, quoth the guide ; 
 for by this I know that thou art a cock of the right kind, 
 for thou hast said the truth. 
 
 * A blessed si^n of a -watchful heart, ever alarmed at the fear of danger- 
 Though he was found sleei)ing, yet he could say with the church, •' My heart 
 •waketh." Song v. 2. 
 
 t Mind this. A Christian can never bo overcome, unless he yields of hjnistlf. 
 Then be most jealous over yourself, and most watehfill against giving wav to »sara»t 
 reasoniiT|:9, natural fears, and fleshly lusts. " ' 
 
 4-5 
 
354 GREAT-HEART AND HONEST CONVERSE TOGETFIER. 
 
 Hon. And .by this also I know that thou knowest 
 xvhat true pilgrimage is ; for all others do think that wc 
 arc the soonest overcome of any. 
 
 Gr.-h. Well, now wc arc happily met, pray let me 
 crave your name, and the name of the place you came 
 from ? 
 
 Hon. My name I cannot, but I came from the tourj 
 of Stupidity ; it lieth about four degrees beyond the city 
 of Destruction. 
 
 Gu.-H. Oh ! are you that countryman '? then I 
 deem I have half a guess of you ; your name is Old 
 Honest, is it not ? So the old gentleman blushed, and 
 said, not honest in the abstract,* but Honest is my 
 name, and i wish that my nature may agree to \\hal I 
 am called. 
 
 Hon. But, Sir, said tl^ old gentleman, how could 
 you guess that I am such a man, since 1 came Irom 
 such a place ? 
 
 Gr.-h. I had heard of you before, by my^ master: 
 for he knows all things that are done on the earth : 
 But I have often \\ondered that any should cona irom 
 your place, for your town is worse than is the city of 
 Destruction itself. 
 
 Hon. Yc.i, we lie more off from the sim, and so are 
 more cold and senseless ; but was a man in a mountain 
 of ice, yet if the Sun of Righteousness will arise upon 
 him, his frozen heart shall feel a thaw ; and thus it has 
 been Avith me.f 
 
 Gr.-h, I believe it, father Honest, I believe it ; for 
 I know the thing is true. 
 
 • Every Chrislianis the subject of lioncstv :in(! justice, U[irip;litness and sincerity; 
 Tct vlieii we coint to desciibe tiiese virtues in llie iibstruct, or \vli:il tliev ie«lly 
 ;»re in tlieir strict juirity, anil utmost pet tVclion, where is the Christiai. biit must 
 wear the conscientious blusli as Honest did, under n sense ut' his iiiipei-rrctions ? 
 
 ■j" This is the confession of an honest iiearl It is never atraiil of :i!>ci'ibi!ig too 
 much to the sovereignty of grace, nor of giving all tin- gioi \ to the Sun oT 
 /ii^i-fiitoufnitiis, for shining n|)on, and nielliiitj duwu ils hard, I'rozcn SOUl. Hert^ 
 is no trimming bctweeu grace ^nd ualmc. 
 
HONEST PRONOUNCES BLESSINGS ON THE BOYS. S55 
 
 Then the old .s^entleman sahited all the pilgrims with 
 a holy kiss of charity, and asked them of their names, 
 and how they had fored since they set out on their pil- 
 grimage. 
 
 Chr. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose, 
 you have heard of ; good Christian was my husband, and 
 these four were his children. But can you think how the 
 old gentleman was taken, when she told him \vho she was ! 
 He skipped, he smiled, and blessed them with a thou- 
 sand good wishes, saying : 
 
 Hon. I have heard much of your husband, and of 
 his travels and Wiirs which he underwent in his days. 
 Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband 
 Tings all over these parts of the w^orld ; his foith, his 
 courage, his enduring, and his sincerity under all, hiis 
 made his name famous. Then he turned to the boys, 
 and asked tliem of their names, which they told him : 
 and then said he unto them, Matthew, be thou like 
 Matthew the publican, not in \icc, but in virtue.(a) 
 Samuel, saith he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a 
 man of fliith and prayer.(6) Joseph, saith he, be thou 
 like Joseph in Potiphar's house, chaste, and one that 
 flees from temptation, (c) And James, be thou like 
 James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord.(f/) 
 Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left 
 ];ier town and her kindred to come along with Christiana, (e) 
 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 \^ith 
 comfort. 
 
 All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very 
 well pleased, and smiled upon his companions. 
 
 (a) Matt. X. 3. (b) Ps. xcix. 6. (c) Gen. xxxix. (ci) Acts i. 13, 14. 
 {e) Eulh i. 16, 17. 
 
35S CHARACTKR OF ^T^i. FEARING. 
 
 Now as tliey walked together, the guide asked the old 
 gentleman if 1ie did not know one Mr. Fearing, that 
 came on pilgrimage ont of his parts ? 
 
 Hon. Yes, very well, said he. He was a man that 
 h:id the root of the' matter in him ; but he was one of the 
 most troublesome pilgi'ims that I ever met with in all my 
 days.* 
 
 Gr.-h. I perceive you knew him ; for you have given 
 a very riglit character of him. 
 
 Hon. Knew him ! 1 was a gi'cat companion of his: 
 I was with him most an end ; when he first began to 
 think of w hat would come upon us hereafter, I was with 
 him. 
 
 Gr.-h. I was his guide from my master's house to 
 the gate of the celestial city. 
 
 Hon. Then you knew him to be a troublesome 
 one. 
 
 Gr.-h. I did so ; but I could very well bear it ; for 
 men of my calling are oftentimes entrusted with the con- 
 duct of such as he was. 
 
 Hon. Well then, pray let us hear a little of him, and 
 how he managed himself under your conduct. 
 
 Gr.-h. Why he was always afraid he should come 
 short whither he had a desire to go. Every thing frighted 
 him that he heard any body speak of, that had but the 
 least appearance of opposition in it. I hear that he lay 
 roariiig at the Slough of Desjwnd, for above a month 
 together : nor durst he, for all he saw se\ eral go over 
 before him, venture, though they, many of them, oftlr- 
 cd to lend him their hand. He would not go back again 
 neither. The celestial city ! he said he should die if he 
 
 • Fearing pilg;rims, tlinugh perplexed in themselves, and troublesome tootlici^ 
 ftre yet to he ehcnslied and eiicouiMged, as tluy li:ive the root of llie mHtter in 
 them ; failh in .lesus, hope towai-ds (ind, t'car of otlVudinj:; him, and a desire to 
 ■^»:''k in his ways, and please him. >Ve must bear the burdens of sucli^ and soful- 
 &\ iliu law of CUrist. Gal. ti. 2. 
 
mS BEHAVIOUR AT THE PLACES HE CAME TO. 357 
 
 came not to it ; and yet was dejected at every difficulty, 
 and stumbled at every straw that any body cast in his 
 way. — -Well, after he had lain at the slough of despond 
 a great while, as I have told you, one sun-shiny morning, 
 I don't know how, he ventured, and so got over ; but 
 when he was over he would scaixe believe it. He had, I 
 think, a slough of despond in his mind, a slough that he 
 carried every where witli 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, }Tt 
 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 at 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 to the ground. He that spake to him 
 wondered to see him so faint. 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 wlien that he was in, he was 
 ashamed to show his flice. Well, after that he had been 
 entertained there awhile (as you know how the manner 
 is,) he Nvas bid to go on his way, and also told the way- 
 he should take. So he went till he came to our house : 
 but as he behaved himself at the gate, so he did at my 
 master the Interpreter's door He lay thereabout in the 
 cold a good while, before he would venture to call ; yet 
 he would not go back : and the nights were long and 
 cold then. Nav, he had a note of neccssitv in hii. 
 
558 IS ENCOURAGED AT THE INTERPRETER'S: 
 
 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 j^reat 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 tiie 
 door, I went out to him, and asked what he was ; but, 
 poor man ! the water stood in his eyes : so 1 perceived 
 "what he wanted. I went therefore in, and told it in the 
 house, and we showed the things to our Lord ; so he 
 sent me out again to intreat 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 v.on- 
 derful loving 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 scehied to get 
 some heart, and to be a little more comforted. For 
 my master, you must kno\v, 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 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 \vas but of few words, only he would 
 sigh aloud. 
 
 When we were come to where the three fellow s were 
 hanged, he said, that he doubted that that would be his 
 .end also. Onl}- he seemed glad when he saw the Cross 
 and the Sepulchre. There 1 confess he desired to stay 
 
AND GLAD AT BEHOLDING THE CROSS. S59 
 
 a little to look, and he seemed for a while after to be a lit- 
 tle comforted. When vye came at the hill Difficulty, he 
 made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions : 
 for you must know, that his trouble was not about such 
 things as these j his fear was about his acceptance at 
 last.'* 
 
 I got him in at the house Beautiful, I think, before 
 be was willing ; also when he m as in I brought him 
 acquainted with the damsels that were of the place^ 
 but he was ashamed to make himself much for com- 
 paiiy ; 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 we came last, to wit, at the gate, and that 
 of the Interpreter, but that he durst not be so bold as to 
 ask. 
 
 V\'hen he 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 ihhik there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that valley 
 and him ; for 1 never saw him better in all his pilgrimage^ 
 than he was in that valley. f 
 
 Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and 
 kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. (c) He 
 would now be up every morning by break of duy, tracing 
 and walking to and fro in the valley. J 
 
 * See all through this character, what a conflict there was between fear, and the 
 influence of grace. Though it may not be the most comfortable, yet tlie end of 
 Mr. Fearing was very joyful. O what a godly jealousj displayed itself all through- 
 his -ife ! Better this than proud, vain-gloiious confidence. 
 "f The valley of Humiliation suits well with fearing hearts 
 I fearing souls dwell much, early and late, in the valley of MeditatioPj 
 
 (a) Lam. iii. 27—29. 
 
360 ftE IS ALARMED AT DEATH ; 
 
 But when he was come to the entrance of tho valley 
 of the Shadow of Death, I thought I should have . st 
 my man : not for that he had inclination to go back 
 (that he always al^horred,) but he was ready to die for 
 fear. " Oh, the hobgoblins will have me ! the hobgob- 
 lins will have me !'* cried he ; and I could not beat him 
 out on't. He made such a noise, and such an outcry 
 here, that had they but heard him, it was enough to en- 
 courage 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. 1 suppose those here had now a special check 
 Irom our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. 
 Fe:iring was passed over it. 
 
 It \\ould be too tedious to tell you of all ; we will 
 therelbre only mention a jxissage or two more. When 
 he was come to Vanity P'air, I thought he would have 
 fought with all the men in the fair : I feared there we 
 should both have been knocked on the head, so 
 hot was he against their fooleries.* Upon the en- 
 chanted ground, he also 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 for ever, and so never see that 
 face ^vith 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 
 thiji time than ever I saw it in all my life : so he went 
 over at last, not much above wet-shod. f When he 
 \vas going up to the gate, Mr. Great-heart began to 
 take his leave of him, and to wish him a good recep- 
 
 • Here is a glorious display of a fearing heart. Full of courage against evil, and 
 lircd uilhzeal for Gotl's glory. 
 
 I O liow glorious is our Lord ! as lliy day is, O pilgrim, so shall thy strength be. 
 Kven the ri\er of <l<!ttli, though there hi- no bridge to go over, > et faith makes 
 one : iuul the Lord of faith makes the waters low, to suit the stale of Lis beloved 
 ones. 
 
YET DIES TRIUMPHAMT. ' 361 
 
 tion above ; so he said, " I shall, I shall ;" then parted 
 we asunder, and I saw him no more. 
 
 Hon. Then, it seems, he was well at last ? 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes, yes, I never had a doubt about him ; 
 he was a man of a choice spirit : only he was always 
 kept very low, and that made his life so burdensome to 
 himself, and so very troublesome to others. («) He 
 was, above many, tender of sin ; he was so afraid of 
 doing injuries to others, that he would often deny him- 
 self of that which was lawful, because he would not 
 offend.*(6) 
 
 Hon. But what should be the reason that such 
 a good man should be all his days so much in the dark ? 
 
 Gr.-h. There are two sorts of reasons for it ; one 
 is, The wise God will have it so ; some must pipe, 
 and some must weep:(c) now Mr. Fearing was one 
 that played upon the bass. He and his fellows sound 
 the sackbut, whose notes are more doleful than 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 jDrofession that begins not ia 
 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 Revelations, the saved are compared to 
 a company of musicians, that play upon their trum- 
 
 * O this IS a blessed spirit ! Ye who are strong in the Lord, and in tlie power sf 
 his might, study to excel herein. ' 
 
 (a) Ps. Ixxxviii. (6) Rom. siv. 11. 1 Cor. 'riii, 13, (c) Matt, xi, 16-*-.lS, 
 
 46. 
 
362 REMARKS ON FEARING'S CHARACTER, 
 
 pets and harps, and sing their songs before the 
 throne. ](a) 
 
 Hon. He was a very zealous man, as one may see 
 by what relation you have given of him. Difficulties, 
 lions, or Vanity Fair, he feared not at all : 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.* 
 
 Gr.-h. You say right; those were the things that 
 ■were his troubles ; 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 fire-brand, had it stood in his way ;" but those 
 things, with which he was oppressed, no man ever yet 
 could shake off with ease. 
 
 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 resemblance betwixt this good 
 man and I : only we differ in two things : his troubles 
 ■were so great, that they brake out ; but mine 1 kept 
 within. His also lay so hard upon him, they made him 
 that he could not knock at the houses provided for enter- 
 tainment ; but my troubles were always such as made 
 me knock the louder. 
 
 Me II. If I might also speak my mind, 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 at the loss of 
 other things. O thought I, may I liavc the happiness 
 
 • Here is a very striking lesson for professors. Talk not of your great knowl- 
 edge, ricli experience, coniforluble IrHines and joyful feelings; all are vain and 
 'luUisive, if tlie gospel lias not a liuly influence upon your practice. On the other 
 hanil, be not dejected, if you are not as yet favoured with these; for if a holy feay 
 of (Jod, uiid a g<)(ll_\ jealousy over ) ourselves, possess your heart, verily, you are 
 a partaker of the grave of Chrisi, and if fuithful, soon you sUall exult ia the sun* 
 Mime of his love. 
 
 (u) Rev. vlii. xiv. '2, ?. 
 
A COMMENnATION OF GODLY FEAR. 36S 
 
 to have a habitation there, it is enough, though I part 
 with all the world to win it. 
 
 Then said Matthew, Fear was one thing that made 
 me think that I was far from having that within me 
 that accompanies salvation ; but if it was so with such 
 a good man as he, why may it not also go well with me ? 
 
 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. 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 dis^ 
 course of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him his 
 farewell. 
 
 *« Whilst, Master Fearing, thou didst fear 
 
 Thy God, who wast afraid 
 Of doing any thing, while here, 
 
 That would have thee betray'd : 
 And didst thou fear the lake and pit ? 
 
 Would others did so too ! 
 For, as for them, that want thy wit, 
 
 They do themselves undo." 
 
364 SELF-WTU.'S CHARACTER ■. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF MR. SELF-AVILL. 
 
 Now I saw tliat they all went on in their talk ; for, after 
 Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, 
 Mr. Honest betijan 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 \vay. 
 
 Gr.-h. Had you ever any talk with him about it ? 
 
 Hon. Yes, more than once or twice : but he would 
 always be like himself, self-willed. He neither cared, 
 for man, nor argument, nor example ; \\hat his mind 
 prompted him to, that he would do ; and nothing else 
 could he be got to.* 
 
 Gr.-ii. Pray what principles did he hold ? for I sup- 
 pose you can tell. 
 
 Hon. He held, that a man might follow the vices as 
 well as the virtues of the pilgrims ; and that if he did 
 both, he should be certainly saved. 
 
 Gr.-h. How! if he had said, it is possible for the 
 best to be guilty of the vices as well as 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-f But this, I 
 perceive is not the thing : but if I understand you right, 
 your meaning is, that he was of that opinion, that it was 
 allowable so to be. 
 
 Hon. Ay, ay, so I mean; and so he believed and 
 practised. 
 
 • Self-will ever accompfiiiies ignorance of ourselves, and of the truth; and is 
 generally attended with licentious principles and practices. 
 
 I This is M soliil. ecripturiil definition ; pray mind it Here it is evident a con- 
 ililioii must hi: :nlmitted ; and hapjiy is tie Christian who keeps closest to thciC 
 opiidiiioiis, iii Older to enjoy peace of cousqience, and joy of heart in Christ. 
 
HIS DETESTABLE OPINIONS. 365 
 
 Gr.-h. But what grounds had he for so saying? 
 
 Hon. Why, he said he had the scripture for his 
 warrant. 
 
 Gr.-h. Pr'ythee, Mr, Honest, present us with a few- 
 particulars. 
 
 Hon. So I will. He said, to have to do with, other 
 men's wives, had been practiced by David, God's be- 
 loved ; and therefore he could do it. He said, to have 
 more women than one, was a thing that Solomon prac- 
 tised ; and therefore he could do it. He said, that Sarah, 
 and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did Ruhub ; 
 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.* 
 
 Gr.-k. Highly base indeed ! and are you sure he was 
 of this opinion ? 
 
 Hon. r have heard him plead for it, bring scripture 
 for it, bring arguments for it, &c. 
 
 Gr.-h. An opinion that is not fit to be with any al- 
 lowance in the world ! 
 
 Hon. You must understand me rightly ; he did not 
 say that any man might do this ; but that those, that had 
 the virtues of those that did such things, might also do 
 the same. 
 
 Gr.-h. 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 al- 
 lowance to do it of a presumptuous mind ; or if, be- 
 cause a child, by the blast of wind, or for that it stum- 
 bled at a stone, fell down, and defiled itself in mire, 
 
 * That heart, which is under the teaching and influence of the grace of God, 
 ■will detest such horrid notions, and cry out against them ; God forbid tfiat ever I 
 should listen one moment to such diabolical sentiments ! for they are hatched in 
 ^cll; and propagated oa earth, by the father of lies.. 
 
366 FURTHER ACCOUNT OF SELF-WILL. 
 
 therefore he might wilfully lie down and wallow like a 
 boar therein. \V'ho could have thought that any one 
 could so far have been blinded by the power of lus>t ? 
 But what is \\ ritten must be true : " they stumbled at 
 the word, being disobedient ; whereunto also they were 
 appointed. "(a) His supposing that such may have the 
 godly man's virtues, who addict themselves to his vices, 
 is also a delusion as strong as the other. It is just as if 
 the dog should say, *' I have, or may have the qualities 
 of a child, because I lick up its stinking excrements.'* 
 *' To eat up the sin of God's people,"(/^) is no sign of 
 one that is possessed with their virtues. Nor can 1 be- 
 lieve, that one that is of this opinion, can at present 
 have faith or love in him. — But I know you have made 
 strong objections against him ; pr'ythee what can he say 
 for himself ? 
 
 Hon. Why, he says, to do this by way of opinion, 
 seems abundantly more honest tlian to do it, and yet hold 
 contrary to it in opinion. 
 
 Gr.-h. 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. 
 
 Hon. There are many of this man's mind, that have 
 not this man's mouth ; and that makes going on pilgrim- 
 age of so little esteem as it is. 
 
 Gr.-h. You have said the truth, and it is to be la- 
 mented ; but he that feareth the King of paradise shall 
 come out of them all. 
 
 Chr. There are strange opinions in the world: I know 
 one that said it was time enough to repent when he came 
 to die. 
 
 Gr.-h. Such are not over- wise : that man would have 
 been loth, might he have had a week to run twenty miles 
 
 (o) Pct«r ii. 8. (*) Hojca ir. 8. 
 
OBSERVATIONS ON OTHER FAULTY CHARACTERS. 367 
 
 for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last hour 
 of that week. 
 
 Hon. You say right; and yet the generality of them 
 that count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. 1 am, 
 as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this 
 road many a day .; and 1 have taken notice of many 
 tilings.* 
 
 1 have seen some, that set out as if they would drive 
 all the world afore 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 
 that one would have thought could not have lived a day, 
 that have yet proved very good pilgrims. — 1 have seen 
 some, who have run hastily forward, that again have, 
 after a little time, run as fast just 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 para- 
 dise, say positively, " There is such a place ;" wdio, 
 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 faidi, the pilgrim's 
 Way, and all. 
 
 • Pray> attentively mind, and deeply consider, the six following observations r 
 they are just; they are daily confirmed to our observations, in the conduct •f 
 different profeBsors. Study, and pray to improve them, to your soul's proCf. 
 
368 THE PILGRIMS ESCAPE THE ROBBERS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS ARRIVE AT THE HOUSE OF GAIUS, WHERE 
 THEY ARE HOSPITABLY ENTERTAINED. 
 
 Now as they were thus in 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." 
 
 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 pilgrinis.* 
 
 Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her 
 children, because they were weary. Then siiid Mr. 
 Honest, " There is one a little before us, where a very 
 honourable disciple, named Gains, dwells."(a) So they 
 all concluded to turn in thither : and the rather, because 
 the old gentleman gave him so good a report. So when 
 they came to the door, they 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 tliat 
 night ? 
 
 Gaius. Yes, gentlemen, if you be true men, for 
 my house is for none but pilgrims. Then was Chris- 
 tiana, Mercy, and the boys, more glad, for that the 
 inn-keeper was a lover of pilgrims. So they called 
 for rooms, and he showed them one for Christiana and 
 
 • It is a blessed tliiii|, to take every alarm, and to be on our guainJ. Hereby 
 many dangcis are avoided, and many evils prevented. Watch, is the word of tlio 
 (!aptain ol'oui- salvation. 
 
 (n) Roro. Xvi. 25. 
 
. GAIUS INQUIRES CONCERNING CHRISTIANA. S69 
 
 her children, and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great- 
 heart and the old gentleman. 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gains, what hast 
 thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far to- 
 day, and are weary. 
 
 It is late, said Gains, so we cannot conveniently go 
 out to seek food, but such as I have you shall be wel- 
 come to, if that will content you. 
 
 Gr.-h. We will be content with what thou hast in 
 the house ; forasmuch as 1 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 ; 
 and while supper is making ready, if you please, let us 
 entertain one another with some good discourse : so they 
 all said content.* 
 
 Then said Gains, Whose wife is this aged matron ? 
 and whose daughter is this young damsel ? 
 
 Gr.-h. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a 
 pilgrim in former times ; and these are his four children. 
 The maid is one of her acquaintance ; one that she \\.j\\ 
 persuaded to come with htr on pilgrimage. The buys 
 take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps l 
 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. 
 
 Then said Gains, Is this Christian's wife ? and 
 are these Christian's children ? I knew your hus- 
 band's father, yea, also his father's father. Many 
 
 * How <loes this reprove many professors of this day, -who frequently meet to- 
 gether, and that al)out evei-y trifle, but have act one word to speak foe precioirs 
 Christ, liis glorious trutlis, and holy ways ! 
 
 47 
 
370 GAIUS ENUMERATES CHRISTIAN'S PROGENITORS ; 
 
 have been £(ood of this stock ; their ancestors first dwelt 
 at Antioch.(rt) Christiim's progenitors (1 sup]->ose you 
 h-ave heard }our husband talk ol' iheni) were very wor- 
 th}' men. 'J^Kry have, above any tliat 1 know, showed 
 themseh es men of great virtue and courage, lor tlie Lord 
 of the pilgrims, his ways, and tlitm thai loved him. I 
 have heard of many of your husband's relations, that 
 have stood all trials lor the sake of the truth. Stephen, 
 that was one of the first of the family from whence } our 
 husband si)rai>g, was knocked on the head w iih stones. ((^) 
 Jcines, an(;ther ol this generation, was slam with the 
 edge of the sword. (c) To say nothirig of Paul and Pe- 
 ter, men anciently of the family Irom whence }our hus- 
 band came; there was Ignatius, who was east to the 
 lions ; Romanus, w hose flesh was cut by pieces hem 
 his boi\es ; and Polycarp^ that played the rnan in tlie 
 lire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in 
 the sun, ior the wasps to eat ; and he w hom they put in- 
 to a sack, and cast hmi into the sea to be drowned. It 
 would be mipossible utterly to count up all that family, 
 that have suftlred injuries and death for the love of a 
 pilgrim's lile. Nor can 1 but be glad to see that thy 
 husband has left behirid him lour such boys as these. I 
 hope they will bear up their lather's name, and tread in 
 their father's steps, and come to their father's end. 
 
 Gr.-h. Indeed, Sir, they are likely lads; they seem 
 to choose heartily their father's ways. 
 
 Gai. That IS what 1 saiel ; wherefore Christian's fami- 
 1) is like still to spreael abroad upon the face of the 
 ground, and yet to be numerous upon tlie face of the 
 earth : wherelore let Chribtiana look out some damsels 
 Cur her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c. that 
 the name ol their father and the house of his progenitors 
 may never be lorgoltcn in the world. 
 
 (n) Acts \\. C6. {f>) Acl3 vii. 50, 60. (c) Acts xii. 2. 
 
AND CONVERSES WITH HIS GUESTS. 371 
 
 Hon. It is pity his family should fall and be ex- 
 tinct. 
 
 Gai. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may ; but 
 let Christiana take my advice, and that's the way to up- 
 hold it. 
 
 And, Christiana, said this inn-keeper, I am glad to 
 see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely 
 couple. And may I advise, Take Mercy into a nearer 
 relation 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. 
 
 Gains 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, 
 so also did life and health : " God sent forth his Son, 
 mace of a woman."(«) Yea, to show how much those 
 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 
 "ivoild. I will say again, that when the Saviour was 
 come, women rejoiced in him, before either man or an- 
 gel.(6) I read not, that ever man did give unto Christ so 
 much as one groat : but the women followed him, and 
 ministered to him of their substance. It was a woman 
 that washed his feet with tears, and a woman that anoint- 
 ed his body to the burial. They were women that wept, 
 when he was going to the cross ; and women that follow- 
 ed him from the cross, and that sat by his sepulchre 
 when he was buried. They were women that were first 
 with him at his resurrection morn ; and women that 
 brought tidings first to his disciples, that he was risen 
 from the dead.(c) Women therefore are highly favoured, 
 and show by these things, that they are sharers with us in 
 the grace of life. 
 
 la)GeQ.w. Gal. iv. 4. (6) Luke ii. (c) Luke vii. 37—50. 
 
 y'm. 3, 3, xxiij. 27- xxiv. 2'2, 23. John ii. 3. xi. ?, 
 
 Matt, sxvii. 55 — 01. 
 
372 THE PILGRIMS SIT DOWN TO SUPPER. 
 
 Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost 
 rciidy : and sent one to lay the cloth, and the trenchers, 
 and to set the salt and bread in order. 
 
 Then said Mattliew, The sight of this cloth, and of 
 this forerunner of the supper, begetteth in me a greater 
 appetite to my food than I had before. 
 
 Gai. So let all ministering doctrines in this life, be- 
 get 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 hu ing of the trench- 
 ers, and as setting of salt upon the board, when com- 
 pared u ith tite feast that our Lord will make us when we 
 come to his house. 
 
 So su])per came up ; and first a heave-shoulder and a 
 ivave-breast were set on the table before them ; to show 
 th.it they must begin the meal with prayer and praise to 
 God. (a) The heave-shoulder, David lifted his heari up 
 to God with ; and with the wave-breast, w here his heart 
 lay, w ith that he used to lean upon his harp, when he 
 played. — These two dishes were very fresh and good, and 
 the\ all eat heartily thereof. 
 
 The next they brought up was a i)ottle of \^ ine, as red 
 as blood. So Gains said to them. Drink freely, this is 
 the true juice of the vine, that makes glad the heart of 
 God and man. So the}' drank and were meiTy.f/^) — 
 The next was a dish of milk well crumbled : but Gaius 
 said. Let the boys ha\e that, that they may " grow 
 therebv."(c') — Then they brouijht 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 judg- 
 ments and understandings. This was our Lord's dish 
 \\ hen he was a child : '' Butter and honey shall he eat, 
 that he may know to refuse the evil, and choose the 
 gi>od."(r/) — Then they brought them up a dish of apples, 
 and tlu }• were very good tasted fruit. Then said Mat- 
 
 fa) Lev vii 3'^— .34 X. U. 15 Ps. xxv. I. Hcb xiii. 15. (/') Dcut. xxiji, 
 14. Ju.lg. hi. 13. John XV. 5. (r) 1 Pet. ii. 1, 2. (rf) isa. vU, 15, 
 
THEIK CONVERSA.TION AT SUPPER. 373 
 
 thew, " May we eat apples, since they were 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 eat corrupt the blood ; 
 To eat such when commanded does us good ; 
 Drink of his fla^gons, then, thou churrh his dove, 
 And eat his apples, who are sick of love." 
 
 Then said Matthew, I made the scruple, because, a 
 while since, I was sick with eating of fruit. 
 
 Gai. 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, (a) Then said 
 some at the table, " Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially 
 the teeth of the children." Which, when Gaius heard, 
 he said, 
 
 " Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters,) 
 Whose shells do keep the kernels from the eaters : 
 Open then the shells, and you shall have the meat ; 
 They here are brought for you to crack and tat." 
 
 Then they were very merr}^ and sat at the table a long- 
 time, talking of many things. Then snid the old gentle- 
 man, My good landlord, while ye 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 m'ne he had." 
 
 Then they all gave good heed, wondering what good 
 Gaius would say ; so he sat still awhile, and then thus 
 replied : 
 
 " He who thus bestows his goods upon the poor. 
 Shall have as much again, and ten times more." 
 
 * Observe here, the feast of piln;rims was attemled with joy. Cliristlans may, 
 iUej' ought, yea, they have the greatest leasoti to rejoice j but then it should be 
 
 (a) Sqi. SoD^ vi. il« 
 
374 M\TTHEW AND MERCY ARE MARRIED. 
 
 Tlien said Joseph, I dare say, Sir, I did not think you 
 could have found it out. 
 
 Oh ! said Giius, I hive been trained up in this way a 
 great while ; nothi'i^ teaches lilve experience : I have 
 le;(rned of my Lord to be kind ; and have found by ex- 
 perience, that I have gained thereby. *' There is that 
 scattereth, yet increascth ; and there is that wiihholdeth 
 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. "(a) 
 
 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 Avhich Gains the host overhearing, said, with a 
 very good will, my child. 
 
 So they staid here more than a month ; and Mercy 
 was given to Matthew to wife. 
 
 While they staid here, Mercy, as her custom ^\•as, 
 would be making coats and garments to give to the 
 poor, by which she brought up a very good report upon 
 pilgrims. 
 
 spiritual joy, wliicli springs from s|>intunl viows, and spiritual conversation Let 
 our speech be thus scasoiieil, and our feasts tlius tempered, ami we shall find in- 
 creasing joi| and glailiiess of heart in tlie Loi"d- 
 
 • Here is a genuine discnverv of a gracious heart ; \ihen it is delighted with 
 Spiritual company and conversation, and longs fur its csntiauancc. Is it so with 
 you, Reader ! 
 
 (a) Prov, xi. '24. xiii. 7. 
 
A QUESTION PROPOSED AND ANSWERED. 375 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE PILCRIMS CONTINUE AT THE HOUSE OF GAIUS ; FROM 
 WHENCE THEY SALLY OUT, AND DESTROY GIANT SLAY- 
 GOOD, A CANNIBAL ; AND RESCUE MR. FEEBLE-MIND, 
 
 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. Then after much talk 
 of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, oid Mr. 
 Honest (he that put forth the riddle to Gaius) began to 
 nod. Then said Great-heart, What Sir, you begin to 
 be droM'sy ! come, rub up, now here is a riddle for you.* 
 Then said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, 
 
 " He thaf will kill, must first be overcome : 
 Who live abroad would, first luust die at home." 
 
 Ha ! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one, hard to ex- 
 pound, and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said 
 he, 1 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, 
 
 • Mind this: When one pilo^rim observes that a brother is inclined to be drowsy^ 
 it is liis dtJt), and should be his practice, to endeavour to awaken, quicken, en- 
 liven, and siii up such, by spiritual hints. O that this Mas mere practised ! .Alany 
 blessings voulU be consequent upon it. 
 
376 ANOTHER QUESTION PROPOSED: 
 
 " Ho first by grace must coDquer'd be. 
 That sin would raorlify : 
 Who, thai lie lives, would convince me. 
 Unto himself must die."* 
 
 It is right, said Gains ; good doctrine and experience 
 teaches this. For, until grace displays itself, and over- 
 comes die 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 resist- 
 ance, before it is loosed from that infirmity ? — Nor w ill 
 any, that knows either reason or grace, believe that such 
 a man can be a living monument of grace, that is a slave 
 to his own coiTuptio . — And now it comes in my mind, 
 I will tell you a story worth the hearing. — There were 
 two men that went on pi;grimage, the one began when he 
 was young, the other wheti he was old ; the young man 
 had strong corruptions to grapple with, the old man's 
 were \veak with the decays of nature : the young man 
 trode his steps as even as did the old one, and was every 
 way as light as he : who now, or w hieh of them, had 
 their graces shining clearest, since both seemed to be 
 alike ? 
 
 Hon. The young man's, doubtless. For that which 
 heads it against the greatest opposition gives best de- 
 monstration that it IS strongest ; especially when it also 
 holdeth pace with that that meets not with half so much ; 
 as to be sure old age does not. — Besides, 1 have obser- 
 ved, that old men have blessed themselves with this 
 mistake ; namely, taking the dec.i} s 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 }Oung, because they have seen most of the 
 
 • O this ilying to self, to self-righteous pride, vain confidence, sell-love, and self- 
 complacency, is hard work to the old man ; jea, it is both inn.r-itciici<ble and im- 
 poisilile 10 him li is only grace vii-ldcd lo that can conquer aud subdne him. And 
 V here grace reigns, this work is carried on day by day. 
 
AXOTHEH QUESTION RESOLVED. 377 
 
 emptiness of things ; but 3 et, for an old and a young 
 man to set out both together, the young one has the ad- 
 vantage of the fairest discovery of a work of grace with- 
 in him, though the old man's corruptions are naturally 
 the weakest. 
 
 Tlius they sat talking till break of day. Now when 
 the family was up, Christiana bid her son James that he 
 should read a chapter ; so he read the fifty -third of 
 Isaiah. When he had done, Mr. Honest asked, why it 
 was said, that the Stviour is said to come " out of a dry 
 ground ;" aiid also that he had " no form or comeliness 
 in him." 
 
 Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first I answer, be- 
 cause the church of the J ws, ot w hich Christ came, had 
 then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. To 
 the second I say, the words are spoken in the ptrson of 
 the unbelie\'er, who, because they want the eye that can 
 see into our Prince's heart, therefore the} judge of him 
 by the meanness of his outside. Just like those that 
 know not that precious stones are covered over with a 
 homely crust ; who, v\'hen the}- have found one, because 
 they know not what they have found, cast it again away, 
 as men do a common stone. 
 
 Well, said Gains, now you are here, and since, as I 
 know^, Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if }ou 
 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 Siay-good, a giant, that 
 does much annoy the King's highway in these parts : and 
 I know whereabout his haunt is : he is master of a num- 
 ber of thieves : it wouid be well if we could clear these 
 parts of him.* 
 
 • After feeding, pilgrims are to prepare for fighting They are not to eat, in 
 Oi-der to pamper their lusts, but to strengthen tlieir "bodies ;;ii(J souls, that they 
 may be stronger in the Lord, and in tlie power of his might, to fight and conquer 
 every enemy. 
 
 48 
 
37^ THEY ASSAULT GIANT SLAY-GOOD. 
 
 So they consented and went, Mr. Great-heart with his 
 sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and 
 staves. 
 
 Wlien 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 m the 
 way : now tlic giant was rifling him, with a purpose, af- 
 ter that, to pick his bones ; for he was of the nature of 
 flesh-eaters. 
 
 Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his 
 friends at the mouth of his ca\e, with their weapons, he 
 demanded what they wanted. 
 
 Gr.-h. VVe want thee, for we are come to revenge 
 the quarrels of the many that thou hast slain of the pil- 
 grims, when diou hast dragged them out of the King's' 
 highway ; Vv'herefore come out of thy cave. — So he arm- 
 ed himself and came out ; and to the battle they u tnt, 
 and Ibught lor above an hour, and then stood still to take 
 wind. 
 
 Then said the giant, Why are you here on my 
 ground ? 
 
 Gr.-h. To revenge the blood of pilgrims, as I also 
 told thee before. — So they went to it again, and ihe 
 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 and slew him, and cut off his ludd, and 
 brought it away to the inn. He also took PVeble- 
 mind the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his 
 lodgings. W'hen they were come home, they showed 
 his head to the famih , and set it up, as tluy had done 
 others before, for a terror to those that shall attempt to 
 do as he, hereafter. 
 
 Then they asked Mr. Feeble-mind, how he fell into 
 his hands ? 
 
 I'hcii said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you 
 see, and because dcaih did usually once a day knock 
 
PEEBLE-MTND'S ACCOUNT OP HIMSHLP. 37S 
 
 •at my door, I thought I should never be well at home ; 
 so I betook myself to a pilgrim's life ; and have tra- 
 velled hither from the town of Uncertain, Vvhere 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 a pilgrim's way.* — 
 When I came at the gate that is at the head of the way, 
 the Lord of that place did entertain me freely ; neither 
 objected he against my weakly looks, nor against my 
 feeble mind ; but gave me such things that were neces- 
 sary 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, 1 have found much relief 
 from pilgrims, though none was willing to go softly as 
 I am forced to do : yet still as they came on, they bid 
 me be of good cheer, and said, that it svas the will of 
 their Lord, that " comfort" should be given to '* the 
 feeble minded ;"(a) 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 cor^ 
 dial : so he came up and took me. I conceived he 
 should 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 
 anv pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he 
 keeps heart-whole towards his master, is, by the kiws of 
 providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Robbed 
 1 looked to be, and robbed to be sure 1 am ; but 1 am, 
 
 • All pilgrims are not alike vigorous, strong, and lively. Sorae are weak, 
 creep and crawl on, in the ways of the Loffl. No matter; if there be but a iiil- 
 jrirn's heart, all shall be well at last: for Omnipotence itself is for mb : and 
 tfien we may boldly ask, while we are obedient to the truth, Who shall be 
 •gainst us ? 
 
 (a) I Thess. v. 14; 
 
380 FEEBLE-MIND CONTINUES HIS NARRATIVE. 
 
 as you sec, escaped with life, for tlie which I thank my 
 Kin.f^ as 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 i^o when I cannot run, and to creep when 
 I cannot j^o. As to the main, I thank him that loved 
 me, I am fixed ; my way is before inc, my mind is be- 
 yond the river that has no bridge ; though I am, as you 
 see, but of a feeble mind.* 
 
 Hon. Then s:iid old Mr. Honest, Hive not vou some 
 time ago been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pil- 
 grim ? 
 
 Feeble. Acquainted with him ! yes: he came from 
 the town of Stupidity, which lies four degrees northward 
 of the city of Destruction, and as many oft' of where I 
 was born ; yet we were well acquainted, for indeed he 
 was my uncle, my flither's brother ; he and I have been 
 much of a temper : he was a little shorter than 1, but yet 
 we were much of a complexion. 
 
 Hon. I perceive you know him ; and I am apt to be- 
 lieve 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. 
 
 Fe E B L E. Most have said so, that have known us both ; 
 and, besides, what 1 have read in him, 1 have for the 
 most part found in myself. 
 
 Come, Sir, said good Gains, be of good cheer ; you 
 are welcome to me, and to my house ; and w hat thou 
 hast a mind to, call for freely ; and what thou wouidest 
 have my servants do for thee, they will do with a ready 
 mind. 
 
 Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is an unexpected 
 favour, and as the sun-shining out of a very dark cloud. 
 
 " AVhat a sweet, simple relation is here! clotli it not suit many a feeble-minded 
 Clirislian ? Poor soul, weak as lie was, yet liis LonI provided at^ainst his dan- 
 Sj^r 'le sent some strong ones to his deliverance, and to slay his ineniy. Mind 
 his belief, even in his utmost extremity. Learn ssmcwiiat from this Fccble- 
 nuad. 
 
NOT-RIGHT STRUCK DEAD. 381 
 
 Did giant Slay-good intend me this favour when he stopt 
 me, and resolved to let me go no further ? Did he in- 
 tend, that after he had rifled my pocket, I should go to 
 " Gaius mine host V Yet so it is.* 
 
 Now just as. Mr. Feeble-mind and Gaius were thus in 
 talk, there comes one running, and called at the door 
 and told, 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 thunder- bolt. 
 
 Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain ? He over- 
 took me some days before I came so far as hither, and 
 would be my company- keeper : he also was with me 
 when Slay-good the giant took me, but he was nimble 
 of his heels, and escaped : but it seems, he escaped to 
 die, and I was took to live.f 
 
 « What, one would think, dotli seek to slay outright, 
 Oft-times delivers from the saddest plij^ht. 
 That very providence, whost; f<ice is death, 
 Doth oft-times, to the lowly, life bequeath. 
 I taken was, he did escape and flee : 
 Hands cross'd, give death to him, and life to me." 
 
 Now about this time Matthew and Mercy were mar- 
 ried •.% ^l^o Gaius gave his daughter Phebe to James, 
 Matthew's brother, to wife. After which time they staid 
 ^bout ten days at Gaius's house ; spending their time, and 
 tlie seasons, like as pilgrims used to do. 
 
 • O how sweet to reflect, the most gigantic enemy shall be conquered, and their 
 most malicious designs shall be over-ruled for our good : yea, what they intend for 
 our ruin shall be made to work for our health and prosperity. 
 
 f See the various dealings of God, and more and more adore him in all his 
 ■ways of providence and grace. 
 
 " Know, all the ways of God to men are just; 
 And, where you can't unriddle, learn to trust." 
 
 \ The reader may remember that Mercy had sometime before refused the ad- 
 dresses of Mr. Brisk, alleging that she whs determined not to have a clog to her 
 soul : but now the Lord provides an help-meet for her in Matthew, a sincn'e young 
 pilgrim. Happy is the match which is made in the Lord, and the partners who 
 are united in eternal bonds ! 
 
582 THE HOSPITALITY OP GAITJS. 
 
 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 hi n, 
 that at his house it was not the custom of pilgrims to 
 pay for their entertainment. He boarded them i)y the 
 year, but looked for his pay from the G(x>d Samaritan, 
 ■who had promised him, at his return, wh itsoevtr charge 
 he was at with them, faithfully to repay him. (a) Then 
 said Mr. Great-heart to him, " Beloved, thou doest fauh- 
 fuUy, whatsoever thou doest to the brethren and to stran- 
 gers, which have borne witness of th\ charity before the 
 church, whom if thou yet bring forward on their journey, 
 after a godly sort, thou shalt do weil."(/6) 
 
 Then Gaius took his leave of them all, and his chil- 
 dren, ajid particularly of Mr. Feeble-mind : he also gave 
 him something to drink by the way. 
 
 (a) Luke «t. 34, 85. (*) 3 John S, i. 
 
THE PILGRIMS LEAVE THE HOUSE OF GAIU8. 583 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS ARE JOINED BY MR. READY-TO-HALT, AND 
 PROCEED TO THE TOWN OF VANITY, WHERE THEY ARE 
 AGREEABLY LODGED BY MR. MNASON ; AND MEET WITH 
 
 AGREE \BLE COMPANY. THEY ENCOUNTER A FORMIDABLE 
 
 MONSTER. 
 
 ^ ow Mr. Feeble-mind, when they were going out at 
 the door, miide as if he intendtd to linger. The which 
 when Mr. Great-heart espied, he said, " Come, Mr. 
 Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us, I will be 
 your conductor, and you shall fare as the rest." 
 
 Feeble. Alas! 1 Wi.nt a suitable coUipanion; you 
 are all lusly 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 my- 
 self and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and 
 ftebJe mind, and shall be offended and made weak at that 
 which others can btar. I thali like no laughing ; 1 shall 
 like no gay attire ; 1 shall like no unprofitable questions. 
 N;.y, 1 am so weak a man, as to be offended at that 
 vihich oihtrs have a liberty to do. 1 do not know all 
 the truth : 1 am a very ignorant Christian man : some- 
 times, il I hear some rejoice in the Lord, it troubles me, 
 because 1 cannot do so too. It is with me, as it is with 
 a weak man an song the strong, or as a lamp despised. 
 " He that is ready to slip with his feet, is as a Icmip de- 
 spised in the thought of him that is at ease ;"(fl) so that 
 1 know not what to do.* 
 
 But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have it in 
 commission to " comfort the feeble- minded," and to 
 
 * W^bat an open inifcnuous confession is here ! though feeble iu mind; be WSd 
 Strong in wisUom and sound jiulgment. 
 
 («} Job vi- 5. 
 
234, READ Y-TO-H ALT JOINS THEM. 
 
 support the weak. You must needs go along with 
 us : we will wait for you, we will lend you our help ; 
 we \v\\\ deny ourselves of some things, both opiniona- 
 tive and jDraetical, lor 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 be- 
 hind.*(<7) 
 
 Now all this while they were at Gaius's door ; and, 
 behold, as they were thus in the heat of their diseourse, 
 J\lr. Read}'-to-halt came by with his crutehes in his hand, 
 and he also was going on pilgrimage. ((6) 
 
 Then said Mr. Feeble^mind to him, How earnest thou 
 hither ? 1 was but now complaining that I had not a suit- 
 able companion ; but thou art according to my wish. 
 Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt, I hope 
 thou and I may be some help. 
 
 Ready-to-halt. I shall be glad of thy company, 
 said the other ; and good Mr Feeble-mind, rather than 
 we will part, since ^ve are thus happily met, I will lend 
 thee one of my crulches.f 
 
 Feeble. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy 
 good- will, 1 am not inclined to halt before I am lame. 
 H'jwbeit, 1 think when occasion is, it may help me 
 ag.iiiist a dog. 
 
 Re ADY To-H ALT. If citluT myself or my crutches 
 can do ihee ti pleasure, we are both at thy command, 
 pood Mr. Feeble-mind. 
 
 O 
 
 Thus then, lore they went on, Mr. Great-heart and 
 Mr. Honest went be fort, Christiana and her children 
 
 • O tli:\t this were moir practised among Chiistians of diflTerent stanilin.^, de- 
 grees, Miul jiiils;iiii'i.t ! ir ^lle^ will) are slioiig wt-ri- tlius to bear willi tli<- weak, 
 as lliey oiiglit, liow nmcli more love, pcacr, and uiiMniniitv, would prevail ! 
 
 j F.xctlli-iit ! Sc till- iisturr of Christiai love; even to be ready to sjiniv lo a 
 tro'lier, what we mii'se'vet have oeeJtsio'. Coi . Lo\e looketli not at tin things c4' 
 our own, but lo provide for the wai.ts of olhei-t. 
 
 {«) llom. xi?, 1 Cor. viii. 'J— 13. ix. 2*2. {l>j Ps. xxKm. 17. 
 
BISCOURSE CONCERNING CHRISTIAN, &e. 385 
 
 went next, and Mr. Feeble- mind and Mr. Ready-to- 
 halt came behind with his crutches. Then said Mr. 
 Honest, Pray, Sir, now we are upon the road, tell us 
 some profitable things of some that have gone on pil- 
 grimage before us. 
 
 Gr.-h. With a good will. I suppose you have heard 
 how Christian of old did meet with Apoilyon in ihe 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 Faithlui was [mt 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. 
 
 Hon. Yes, 1 believe I heard of all this : but indeed 
 good Faithful was hardest put to it by Shame ; he was an 
 unwearied one. 
 
 Gr.-h. Ay : for as the pilgrim well said, he of all 
 men had the wrong name. 
 
 Hon. But pray. Sir, where VAas it that Christian and 
 Faithful met Talkative ? that same was a notable one. 
 
 Gr.-h. He was a confident fool ; yet many follow his 
 ways. 
 
 Hon. He had like to have beguiled Faithful. 
 
 Gr.-h. Ay, but Christian put him into a way quickly 
 to find him out. 
 
 , Thus they went on till they came to the place where 
 Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and pro- 
 phesied to them what they should meet with 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. 
 
 Hon. Say you so? 1 dare say it was a hard chapter 
 that then he did read unto them. 
 
 Gr.-h. It was so, but then he gave them encourage- 
 ment, withal. But what do we talk of them ? they were 
 a couple of lion-like men ; they had set their laces like 
 
 4.9 
 
386 TTTEY APPROACH TO THE TOWK" OP f ATnTY. 
 
 flints. Do not you remember how undaunted they were 
 when they stood before the judge V 
 
 Hon. Well, Faithful bnively suffered. 
 
 Gr.-h. So he did, pnd as brave things came on't : for 
 Hopeful and some others, as the story relates, were con- 
 verted by his death. (a) 
 
 Hon. Well, but jiray go on; for you are well ac- 
 quainted with things.* 
 
 Gr.-ii. Above all that Christian met with after he 
 had passed through Vanity-fair, one By-ends was thr 
 arch one. 
 
 Hon. By-ends ! What was he ? 
 
 Gr.-h. a very arch fellow, a downright hypocrite : 
 one that would be religious which way ever the world 
 went : but so cunning, that he would be sure never to 
 lose or nuffer for it. He hdd his mode of religion for 
 every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as 
 he. He would turn and change from opinion to 
 opinion : yea, and plead for so. doing too. But as far 
 as i could learn, he came to an ill- end with his by- 
 ends : nor did 1 ever hear that any of his children 
 were ever of any esteem with any that truly iear 
 
 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 1 am acquainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cy- 
 
 * Xotliing more profitable than coiivcrsint; on tlie faitl), valour, and success of" 
 tliose wlio liave gone before us, with tlicir lri:ils, enemies nnd danjjers ! yel how 
 glonoMsly ibey loiiglit tlu-ir *vay tbrouj^b all, and eanie oft" more than conqucroin 
 iver all. Pilgrims love to hear these tlnngs. 
 
 (o) Part I. p. 136—167 (ft) Part I. p. 168— 17^ 
 
THEY ARE CORDIALLY RECEIVED BY MR. MNASOK. 387 
 
 prusian by nation, and an old disciple, at whose house 
 we may lodj^e. If you. think good, said he, we will 
 turn in there.* 
 
 Content, said old Honest ; Content said Christiana ; 
 Content, said Mr. Feeble-mind ; and so they said all. 
 Kow 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 so soon as ever he heard it ; so he opened, and 
 they all came in. Then said Mnason their host, " How 
 flir'have ye come to day ?" So they said, " From the 
 house of Gains our friend." " I promise you," said he, 
 *' you have gone a good stitch ; you may \vd\ be weary ; 
 sit down." So they sat down. 
 
 Then said their guide, Come, what cheer, good Sirs ? 
 I dare say you are welcome to my friend. 
 
 I also,' said Mr. Mnason, do bid you welcome : and 
 whiitever you want, do but say, and we will do what w^c 
 can to get it for you. 
 
 Hon. Our great want, a while since, was harbour 
 and good company ; and now I hope we have both.f 
 
 Mnas. For harbour, you see what it is; but for good 
 company, that will appear in the trial. 
 
 Well, said Mr. Great-heart, will you have the pilgrims 
 into their lodgings ? 
 
 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 time was come to go to rest. 
 
 • How happy to find a house in Vanity-fair, whose master will receive an<l en- 
 tertain pilgrims Blessed be God for the present revival of r(>ligion in our day: 
 and for the many houses that are ©pen to the friends of the Lamb The hearts of 
 the masters of which he opens. 
 
 f Under all our wants, may Tve not say, \fith our father Abraham, God will 
 E^ovide I Gen. xxii. §. 
 
388 THEY ARE VISITED BY MNASON'S FRIENBS, 
 
 Now \\hcii thcv were set in tlieir places, and were a 
 little checrv after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his 
 landlord, if there were any store of good people in the 
 town ? 
 
 Mnas. We have a few ; for indeed they are but a 
 few when compared uith them on the other side. 
 
 Hon. But how shall we do to see some of them? for 
 the sis^ht of j^ood men to them that are ^oing on pilgrim- 
 as:c, is like to the appearing of the moon and stars to 
 them that are going a journey.* 
 
 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, that have a mind this 
 evening to see them. 
 
 So Grace went to call them, and they came ; and, 
 after salutation made, they sat down together at the 
 table. 
 
 Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord. My neigh- 
 bours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers 
 come to my house : they are pilgrims : they come 
 from afar, and are going to Mount Sion. But who, 
 quoth he, do you think this is ? (pointing his fingers 
 at Christiana.) It is Christiana, the wife of Christian, 
 that famous pilgrim, who with Faithful his brother, 
 were so shamefully handled in our town. — At that 
 they stood amazed, saying. We little thought to sec 
 Christiana when Grace came to call us : wherefore this 
 is a \'ery comf table surprise. Then they asked her 
 about her welfare, and if these young men were her 
 husband's sons. And when she told them they were, 
 they said, " The King, whom you love and serve, 
 
 • The inquiry of disciples after suitable eompany discovers that they, willx 
 David, love tlic Lord's saints, and in tlie excellent of iJie eartJbt is all Uieir delight. 
 Va, xvi. 3. A genuine discorcrj thU of a gracious Ut^art. 
 
WHO SHOW THE STATE OP THE TOWN OF VANITY. 389 
 
 make vou as your flither, and bring you where he is in 
 peace !"* 
 
 Then Mr. Honest, when they were all sat down, asked 
 Mr. Contrite, and the rest, in what posture their town 
 was at present. 
 
 CoNTR. You may be sure we are full of hurry in fair- 
 time. It 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, and that has to do with such 
 as we have, has need of an item, to caution him to take 
 heed every moment of the day.f 
 
 Hon. But how are your neighbours now for quiet- 
 ness ? 
 
 CoNTR. They are much more moderate now than for- 
 merly. You know how Christian and Faithful were 
 used at our town ; but of late, I sa}% they have been far 
 more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with 
 load upon them till now ; for since they burned him, 
 they have been ashamed to burn any more : in those 
 days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can 
 show our heads. Then the name of a professor was 
 odious ; now, especially in some jDarts of our town (for 
 you know our town is large,) religion is counted honour- 
 able. J 
 
 Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how fareth it 
 with you in your pilgrimage ? How stands the country- 
 affected towards you ? 
 
 Hon. It happens to us as it happeneth to way-faring 
 men : sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, 
 sometimes up hill, sometimes dov.'n 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 
 
 * A precious prayer for the best of blessings. 
 
 ■}" Mind this hint. May it kindle a sense of dano;er, and excite caution. 
 
 + It is a mercy, when open nersecation for the word abates, and religion is more 
 respected; but how do professors in such times get cold and dead, grow formal and 
 ■worldly? The smiles of the town of Vanitj often proye more injurious tUati its 
 fi'owns. Be on your guard, pilgrims. 
 
390 r.RE\T.HEART RELATES THEIR ADVENTURES. 
 
 have met with some notable nibs already : and what are 
 yet l)'.-liiiKl we know not : but for the most part, we find 
 it tfie th It h IS been talked of old, — " A good man must 
 sufTr trouble." 
 
 CoNTR. You talk of rubs : — what rubs have you met 
 with 1? 
 
 Hon. N»y, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide; for he 
 can nrive the best account of that. 
 
 Gr.-h. We have been beset two or three times al- 
 ready. First, Christiana and her children were beset with 
 two rnfliins, that they feared would take away their lives. 
 AVe were beset with giant Bloody-man, giant Maul, and 
 gi^nt S!ay-J2;ood. Indeed, we did rather beset the last, 
 thio were beset of 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 so go see if we could light 
 upon any of those that were enemies of pilgrim»s ; 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 dis- 
 cerned the mouth of his cave ; then were we 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 prev, he 
 left the poor man in his house, 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 sliould 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. 
 
 Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, I found this true to my 
 cost and comfort ; to my cost, when he threatened to 
 
THEIR FURTHER CONVERSATION. 391 
 
 pick my bones every Tnc.!«ent ; and to my comfort, when 
 I saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends, widi their weapons, 
 approach so near for my deliverance. 
 
 Then said Mr. Holyman, There are two things that 
 they have need to be possessed of, that go on pilgrim- 
 age ; 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.* 
 
 Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this caution is not 
 needful among you : but truly thtre are many that go 
 upon the road, that rather declare themselves strangers to 
 pilgrimage, than strangers and pilgrims in the earth. 
 
 Then said Mr. Dare-not-lie, It is true, they neither 
 have the pilgrim's weed, nor the pilgrim's courage : they 
 go not uprightly, but all awry \vith their feet : one shoe 
 goeth inwcird, another outward, and their hosen out be- 
 hind ; here a rag, and there a rent, to the disparagement 
 of their Lord.f 
 
 These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be 
 troubled for ; nor are the pilgrims like to have that 
 grace up^on them, and their pilgrim's progress as they 
 desire, until the way is cleared of such spots and ble- 
 mishes. 
 
 Thus they sat talking and spending the time until sup- 
 per was set upon the table. Upon which they went and 
 refreshed their weary bodies ; so they went to rest. Now 
 they stayed in the fair a great while at the house of Mr. 
 Mnason, who, in process of time, gave his daughter 
 Grace unto Samuel, Christiana's son, and his daughter 
 Martha to Joseph. 
 
 The time, as I said, that they lay here was long : for it 
 was not now as in former times. Wherefore the pilgrims 
 
 • This is a sound speech. Lord, grant that we, who profess the holy name 
 may take good heed to this. It is a word of conviction to many. 
 
 ■f An excellent observation, and a just I'eproof. May it cany convictioH to the 
 Aeart of those it suits. 
 
592 THEY HEAR OF A MONSTER IN THOSE PARTS. 
 
 grew acquainted m itli many of the good people of the 
 town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, 
 as jhe was wont, laboured much for the poor ; wherefore 
 their bellies and backs blessed her, and she w as there an 
 ornament to her j^rofession. And to say die 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. 
 
 \Vhile 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 nun fled w hen they heard of 
 the noise of his coming. The monster was like imto no 
 one beast upon the earth : , its body was " like a dragon, 
 and it had seven heads and ten horns.(c) It made great 
 havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a woman. 
 This monster propounded conditions to men, and such 
 men as loved their lives more than their souls accepted 
 of those conditions. 
 
 Now Mr Great-heart, together \\'ith those who came 
 to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason's house, entered into 
 a covenant to go and engage ihis btast, if perhaps they 
 might deliver the people ot this town ii:om die paws and 
 mouth of this so devouring a serpent. 
 
 Then did Mr. Great- heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy- 
 man, Mr. D..re-noi-iK, and Mr. P>.nitent, with their 
 weapons, go iprih to meet him. Now the monster, at 
 first, was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies 
 with gnat disdain ; but ihey so belaboured him, being 
 sturdy men at arms, that they made him make a 
 retreat : so they came home to Mr. Mnason's house 
 again. 
 
 (a) Ruv. Xii. S. 
 
THEY ATTACK THE MOXSTER, AND WOUND HIM. 393 
 
 The monster,* you must know, had his certain sea- 
 sons to come out in, and to make his attempts upon the 
 children of the people of the town : also these seasons 
 did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did contin- 
 ually assault him ; insomuch, that in process of time he 
 became not only wounded, but lame ; also he had not 
 made the havock of the townsmen's children as formerly 
 he had done. And it is verily believed by some, that this 
 beast will certainly 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 no more than a beast ; these had no rev- 
 erence for these men, nor took they notice of their valour 
 and adventures. 
 
 * This refers (observes the Rev. Mr. Scott) to the prevalence of popery for 
 some time before the revolution in 1688 ; by which many nominal protestauts were 
 drawn aside, and numbers of children educated in the principles of darkness and 
 superstition. The favour and frown of the prince and his paitv operated so 
 powerfully, that worldly men in general yielded to the imposition : but several 
 persons among the non-conformists, as well as in the established church, did emi- 
 nent service at this crisis, by their preaching and writings, in exposing the delu- 
 sions and abominations of the adherents to'the papal see : and these endeavours 
 were eventually the means of overturning the plan formed for the re-establishment 
 ef popery in Britain. 
 
 5© 
 
394 THEY DEPART FROM TIIE HOUSE OF M?IAS05f, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS KHX GIAMT DESPAIR, AND HIS WIFE; ANB 
 
 TOTALLY DEMOLISH HIS CASTLE. THEY PROCEED TO THE 
 
 DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Well, the time drew on that the pilgrims must go on 
 their way ; therefore they prepared lor tlieir journey. 
 They sent for their friends ; they conferred witli 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 sucii things as they had, that 
 were fit for the weak and the strong, for the women and. 
 the men, and so laded them a\ ith such tilings as were ne- 
 cessary. (c) Then they set forward on their way ; and 
 their friends accompanying them so far as was con\'cn- 
 ient, they again committed each other to the protection 
 of their King, and departed. 
 
 They, therefore, that were of the pilgrims' company, 
 went on, and Mr. Great-heart went beibre them ; now 
 the women and children being weakly, they were forced 
 to go as they could bear ; by this means Mr. Reudy-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 j^ut to death : therefore they 
 made a stand, and thanked Hmi 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 man's suf- 
 ferings as he was. They went on, thereibre, after this a, 
 good way further, talking of Christian and Faithful ; and 
 ho^v Hopeful joined himself to Christian, after that Faith- 
 ful was dead.(/^) 
 
 («) Acts -xxTiii. 10. (6) Part I. p. 16». 
 
THEY ARTITVR AT THE WATER OP LIFE. 395 
 
 Now they were come up the hill Lucre, where the 
 silver mine was, which took Demas off from his pil- 
 primage, 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 the view of Sodom and its stinking 
 lake, (a) they marvelled, as did Christian before, that men 
 of that knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, 
 should be so blind as to turn aside here. Only they con- 
 sidered 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 
 €ye. 
 
 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 sur- 
 feits ;(c) where the meadows are green all the year long, 
 and where they might lie down safely. 
 
 By this river side, in the meadows, there were cotes 
 and folds for sheep, a house built for the nourishing and 
 bringing up those lambs, the babes of those women that 
 go on pilgrimage. Also there was here one that was en- 
 trusted with them, who could have compassion, and that 
 could gather these lambs with his arm, and carry them 
 in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were 
 with young. (J) 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, harboured, 
 succoured, and nourished, and that none of them might 
 be lacking in time to come. This man, if any of them 
 go astray, or be lost, he will bring them back again ; 
 he will also bind up that which was broken, and will 
 strengthen them that are sick.(c) Here they will never 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 177. (b) Part 1. p. 18'2. (c) Ps. xxiii. (d) Heb. v. 2, Is. hiij. 
 (e^ Jei\ xiii. 4f. Ezek.xxxiv.il — 16. 
 
396 AN HOSPITAL FOR YOUKG rHlLDREX. 
 
 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 favour of no small ac- 
 count. 
 
 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 Avhieh Matthew 
 eat of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub's garden ; 
 but fruit that procureth health where there is none, and 
 that continueth and increaseth 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 an hospital to young children and 
 orphans. 
 
 Now they went on ; and when the}- were come to By- 
 path meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with 
 his fellow Hopeful, when they were taken by giant Des- 
 pair, 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, A\'hether 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 an}' further. (a) So one said one thing, 
 and another said to the contrary. — One questioned if it 
 was lawful to go upon unconsecrated ground ; another 
 
 • Here ■wc frequently find our autlior speaking of our Lord and Saviour as Afan. 
 He excels in this. It were to be wished, that authors and preachers wrote and 
 epake more frequently of the manhood of Jesus, who was a perfect MaDj like unto 
 u: in all things except sia. 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 180— J93, 
 
THEY DETERMINE TO ATTACK GIANT DESPAIR. S97 
 
 said they might, provided their end was good. But Mr. 
 Great-heart said, Though, that assertion offered last can- 
 not 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, " 1 will." " And so xve 
 will too," said Christiana's four sons, Matthew, Samuel, 
 James, and Joseph ; for they were young men and 
 strong. («) 
 
 So they left the women on the road, and with them 
 Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Ready-to-halt, with his 
 crutches, to be their guard, until they came back ; for 
 in that place, though giant Despair dwelt so near, they 
 keeping in the road " a little child might lead them."(/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. W^ith 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 
 
 (c) 1 John ii. 13, 14. (5) Isaiah xi. 6. 
 
398 THEY RILL THE GIANT. 
 
 himself, and went out : he had a cap of steel upon his 
 head, a breast-plate of fire j^irded to him, and he cime 
 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 wlien Diffidence, the giantess, came up 
 to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. 
 Tiien they fought for their lives, and giant Despair was 
 brought down to the ground, but was very loth to 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. 
 D.spoadency, 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 per- 
 formed this exploit, they took Mr. Despondency, and 
 his daughter Much-afraid, into their protection ; for they 
 were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubt- 
 ing Castle, to that 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 sho^^•ed 
 them what they had done. Now when Feeble-mind and 
 Ready-to-halt saw that it was the head of giant Despair 
 
 • What cannot Grcnt-lieart do? Wliat feats not perform ? Wliat victories not 
 gain ? Wlio can stand bifore Gient-lieart ? DifTidence sliall fall, and giant Despair 
 be slain, by tlic power of Grea' -heart, witli tlio sword of the Spirit, whicli is the 
 •word of God. Kjih. vi. 17. even Despondency, thongii almost starved shall be de- 
 livered, and his daughter Muoh-afraid shall be rescued. O for more of Great- 
 heart's companj ! 
 
THE PILGRIMS' JOY ON THEIR VICTORY. 399 
 
 indeed, they were very jocund and merry. Now Chris- 
 tiana, 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, 
 named Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing ihey 
 ^vent in the road. True, he could not dance without one 
 crutch in his hand ; but 1 promise you, he footed it well : 
 also, the girl was to be commended, for she answered 
 the music handsomely. 
 
 As for Mr. Despondency, the music was not 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 pre- 
 pared him something to eat ; and in a litde 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 high- way side, right over 
 against a pillar that Christian erected for a caution to pil- 
 grims 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 hira, whose name only, 
 In former time, did pilgrims terrify. 
 His castle's down* and Diffidence, his wife, 
 Brave Master Great-heart has bereft of life. 
 Despondency, his daughter Much-afraid, 
 Great-heart for them also the man has play'd. 
 
 • The following lines contain an important truth, and deserve particular re- 
 -gard : 
 
 Though Doubthig;-Ca8tle be demolished. 
 And the giant Despair hath lost his head. 
 Sin cae rebuild the Castie, make't remain. 
 And make Despair the giant live again.f 
 
 t Exeellent remark ! pray mind it. 
 
400 THEY A11RI\T1 AT THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 V/bo hereof doubts, if lie'll but cnst jiis eye 
 Up hither, may liis scruples satisfy. 
 This head also when doubliujj cripples dance. 
 Doth show from fear they have deliverance." 
 
 When those 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 re- 
 freshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They 
 also acquainted themselves with the shepherds there, who 
 welcomed them, as they had done Cliristian 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 ?" 
 
 Cr.-h. *' First here is Christiana and her train, 
 
 Her sons, and iier son's wives, who like the wain, 
 Keep by the pole, and do by compass steer 
 From sin to u;race, else they had not been here. 
 Next, here's old Honest come on pilgrimage; 
 Ileady-to-halt too, who I dare engage, 
 True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, 
 AVho 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 know wbereou to trust.** 
 
 Then said the shepherds, This is a comfortable com- 
 pany ; you are welcome to us, for we have for the fee- 
 ble as for the strong : our Prince has an eye to what is 
 done to the least of these :{a) therefore infirmity 
 must not be a block to our cntcrlalmncnt. So they 
 had them to the palace doors, and then said unto them, 
 *' Come in Mr, Feeble-mind ; come in Mr. Rtady-to- 
 lialt : come in Mr. Despondency, and Miss Much- 
 
 (a) Matt xxr. A(S 
 
MOUNT MARVEL, 401 
 
 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 sec, 
 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. "(c) 
 
 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 
 that you would have ? For, said they, all things must be 
 managed here to the supporting of the weak, as well as 
 the warning of the unruly. 
 
 So they made them a feast of things easy of digestion, 
 and that were pleasant to the palate, and nourishing ; the 
 which when they had received, they went to their rest, 
 each one respectively unto his proper place. When 
 morning was come, because the mountains were high, 
 and the day clear ; and because it was the custom of the 
 shepherds to 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 showed 
 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 him, that this man was the son of one Mr. 
 Great-grace [of whom you read in the first part of the 
 records of the Pilgrini's Progress :~\ and he is set there 
 to teach pilgrims how to believe down or to tumble out 
 of their ways, w'hat difficulties they should meet with, 
 
 («) Eirek. syxiv. 21. {b) Part I. p. 19*— 198, 
 
 SI 
 
402 MOUNT INNOCENCE AND MOUNT CHARITY. 
 
 by faith.(fl) Then said Mr. Great-heart, " I know bim ; 
 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 httle time fall off" again, and his 
 garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast 
 thereat. — Then said the pili3;rims, What means this ? 
 The shepherds answered. This man is named Godly- 
 man, and the garment is to show the innocency oi his 
 life. Now, those that throw dirt at him are such as hate 
 his well-doing ; but as you sec the dirt will not stick upon 
 his clothes, so it shall be with him that live^ truly inno- 
 cently in the world. Whoever they be that would make 
 such men dirty, they labour all in vain ; for God by that 
 a little time is spent, will cause that tlieir innocence shall 
 break forth as the light, and their righteousness as the 
 noon -day. 
 
 Then they look 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 gar- 
 ments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his lundle 
 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 that has a heart to give oi his iabcmr 
 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 
 liad ever the less in her barrel. 
 
 They had them also to tlie place where they saw one 
 Fool, and one W^ant-wit, washing of an Ethiopian, with 
 an intention to make him white ; but the more they 
 "washed him, the blacker he was. Then they asked tiie 
 shepherds what that should mean ? 80 they told them,. 
 
 (a) Mark xi. 23, 2-i. 
 
THE LOOKING-GLASS OP GOD'S WORD. 403 
 
 sayin,^, Thus shall it be 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 hypo- 
 crites. 
 
 Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Chris- 
 tiana her 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, (a) Then 
 they went to the door, (it was on the side of an hill ;) 
 and they opened it, and bid Mercy hearken awhile. So 
 she hearkened, and heard one saying, " Cursed be my 
 father, for holding of my feet back from the way of peace 
 and life :'* And another said, " O that I had been torn in 
 pieces, before I had, to save my life, lost my soul !" 
 And another said, " If I were to live again, how would 
 I deny myself rather than come to this place !" Then 
 there was as if the very earth groaned and quaked under 
 the feet of this young woman for fear, so she looked 
 white, and came trembling away, saying, " Blessed be 
 he and she that is delivered from this place." 
 
 Now when the shepherds had shown them all these 
 things, then they had them back to the palace, and en- 
 tertained them with what the house would afford : but 
 Mercy being a young and breeding 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 a dining-room, off which 
 I cannot take my mind ; if therefore I have it not, I think 
 I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention 
 thy wants to the shepherds, and they will not deny it 
 thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should 
 know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is 
 
 fa) Part L p. 197. 
 
404 THE SHEPHERDS GIVE PRESENTS TO THE PILGRIMS, 
 
 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 ^v•illi^g to sell it. 
 
 Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would pre- 
 sent 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 the 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, in his feet, and 
 his side. Yea, such an excellency is there in that glass, 
 that it w ill 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. *(rt) 
 
 Christiana therefore went to the shepherds apart, (now 
 the names of the shepherds were Knowledge, Experi- 
 ence, Watchful, and Sincere, )(<5>) and said unto them, 
 There is one of my diuighters, a breeding woman, that, 
 I think, doth long for something that she hath seen in this 
 house, and she thinks she should miscarry, if she should 
 by you be denied. 
 
 Ex PER. Call her, call her : she shall assuredly have 
 ^vhat we can help her to. So they called her, and said 
 to her, Mercy, What is that thing thou wouldest have ? 
 Then she blushed, and said. The great glass that hangs 
 up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran and fetched it, 
 and with a joyful consent it \vas given her. Then she 
 bowed her head, and gave thanks, and said, By this I 
 know that I have obtained favour in your eyes. 
 
 • O what a blessed thing it is to long for the word of God, so as not to be 
 Batisfied without it, and to prize it above and beyond all other things ! Love to the 
 word excites the soul to say with David, " I have longed for thy salvation, O Lord." 
 Psal. cxix. 174. This is a special mark of a gracious soul. 
 
 (rt) James i. 23—25, 1 Cor. .\iii. 12. 2 Cor. iii, 18. (6) Part I. p. 195. 
 
WHO LEAVE THEM, AND GO ON THEIR JOURNEY. 405 
 
 They also gave to the other young women such things 
 as they desired, and to their husbands great commenda- 
 tions, for that they had joined with Mr. Great-heart, to 
 the slaying of giant Despair, and the demolishing of 
 Doubting Castle. — * About Christiana's neck the shep- 
 herds put a bracelet, and so they did 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 com- 
 panion. 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 
 seasonable ; to wit, even then when the danger was nigh 
 the approaching. What cautions Christian and his com- 
 panion had received of the shepherds, (a) 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 hence they went on singing, and they said, 
 
 " Behold, how fitly are the stages set 
 
 For their relief that pilgrims are become, 
 And how they us receive without one let, 
 That make the other life the 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." 
 
 • No good thing, done in the name and to the glory of Christ, shall be forgotten 
 sif him, nor go unrewarded by him. 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 198. 
 
406 THEY OVERTAKE VALIANT-FOR-TRUTH, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE COMPANY JOIXED BY MR. VAUANT AND MR. STAND 
 
 FAST. THEY PASS OVER THE ENCHANTED GROUND. 
 
 A DESCRIPTION OF MADAM BUnBLB. 
 
 When they were gone from the shepherds, they quickly 
 came to the place where Christian met with one Turn- 
 away, that dwelt in the town of Apostacy.(c) Where- 
 fore of him Mr. Great-heart, their guide, did now put 
 them in mind, saying, This is the place where Christian 
 met with one Turn-away, who carried with him the char- 
 acter of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to 
 say concerning this man; — he would hearken to no coun- 
 sel, but, once a falling, persuasion could not stop him. 
 When he came to the place where the cross and the sepul- 
 chre was, he did meet with one that did bid him look there, 
 but he gnashed with his teeth, and stamped, and said, 
 he was resolved to go back to 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 es- 
 caped his hand. 
 
 Then they went on : and just at the place where Little- 
 faith formerly vvas robbed, there stood a man with his 
 sword drawn, and his flice all bloody. Then said Mr. 
 Great-heart, What art thou ? The man made answer, 
 saying, 1 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 \vay, there were three men that did beset me, 
 and propounded unto me these three things : — Whether 
 I would become one of them ; — or go back from whence 
 
 (a) Fart I. p. 201. 
 
"WHO OVERCOMES THREE DARING ASSAILANTS. 407 
 
 I came ; — or die upon the place ? To the first I answer- 
 ed, 1 had been a true man a long season, and therefore it 
 couid not be expected that 1 now should cast in my lot 
 with thieves.(a) Then they demanded what 1 would say 
 to the second ? So 1 toid them the place from whence I 
 came, had I not found incommodity there, I had not 
 forsaken it at all ; but finding it altogether unsuitable to 
 me, and very unprofitable for me, 1 forsook it for this 
 way. Then they asked me what I said to the third ? 
 And I told them, My life cost more dear far, than that I 
 should lightly give it away : Besides, you have noihing 
 to do to put things to my choice ; wherefore at y( ur peril 
 be it if you meddle. Then these three, to wit, Wiid- 
 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 three hours. They have left 
 upon me, as you see, some of the marks of their valour, 
 and have also carried away with them some of mine. 
 They are but just now gone : I suppose they might, as 
 the saying is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook 
 themselves to flisrht. 
 
 Gr.-h. But here was great odds, three against one. 
 
 Val. 'Tis true ; but little or more are nothing to him 
 that has the truth on his side ; " Though an host should 
 encamp against me," said one, " my heart shall not fear : 
 though war shall rise against me, in this will I be confi- 
 dent," &c. Besides, said he, I have read in some 
 records, that one man has fought an army : and how 
 manv did Samson slay with the jaw-bone of an 
 ass f* 
 
 Then said the guide, why did you not cry out, that 
 some might have come in for your succour ? 
 
 • Truth will make a man valiant ; and valour for truth will make a pilgrim 
 fight with wild-headeil, inconsiderate, and pragmatic opposers. The blood he 
 loses iu such a battle is his hoaour ; the scars he gets are his gloiy . 
 
 (a) Prov, i, 10—19. 
 
408 GREAT-HEART INQUIRES CONCERXING THE FIGHT. 
 
 Val. So I did to my King, who I knew could hear 
 me, and afford invisible help, and that was enough for 
 me.* 
 
 Then said Great-heart to Mr. Valiant-for-truth, Thou 
 hast worthily behaved thy sell ; let me see tiiy sword ; — 
 so he showed it him. When he had taken it into his 
 liand, and looked thereon a while, he said, Ha, it is a right 
 Jerusalem blade. 
 
 Val. 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you 
 ^vas not ^vear}-. 
 
 Val. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand, 
 and then they were joined together, as if a sMord grew 
 out of my arm : ;inc) when the blood run through my 
 fingers, then I fought with most courage. f 
 
 Gr.-h. Thou hast done weW ; thou hast " resisted 
 unto blood, striving against sin ;" thou shalt abide by 
 us, come in and go out with us, for we arc thy com- 
 panions. 
 
 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 \vent on, because Mr, 
 Great- heart was delighted in him (for he loved one great- 
 ly that he found to be a man of his hands;) and because 
 there were in company them that were feeble and weak, 
 therefore he questioned w ith him about many things ; as 
 first what countr} man he was ? 
 
 * Enough indeed. He who is engageil for Goil's truth, shall never want God's 
 help. 
 
 t nifsscd fighting, when hard and heart arc cnsr.igid, and the sword grow<i 
 united to hoth ! O ye trininiers, and lukewarm proJ't ssors, who will tameljf give 
 up, or ineaidy compound lor peace, by the barter of truth ; let this shame and 
 I'oufotind von ! 
 
HE INFORMS THEM HE CAME FROM DARK-LAXD. 409 
 
 Val, I am of Dark-land, for there I was born, and 
 there my father and mother are still. 
 
 Dark-land ! said the guide : doth not that lie on the 
 same coast with the city of Destruction ? 
 
 Val. Yes, it doth. Now that which caused me to 
 come on pilgrimage, was this ; we had Mr. Tell-true 
 come into our parts, and he told it about what Chris- 
 tian 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 con- 
 fidently reported, liow 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 to 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 it 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 heat 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. You came in at the gate, did you not ? 
 
 Val. 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.* 
 
 * The reason why so mnny professors who set out, go on for a season, hut fall 
 away and come to nothing at last is, because they do not enter into the pilgrim's 
 path, by Christ, who is the gate. They do not see themselves quite lost, ruined, 
 hopeless, and wretched : their hearts are not broken for sin ; therefore they do 
 not begin by receiving Christ, as the only Saviour of such miserable sinners. But 
 they set out in nature's strength ; and not receiving, nor living upon Christ, they 
 soon fall away. This is the reason of this inquiry. Did you come in at the gate ^ 
 A question we ought to put to O'lrselvcs, and be fully satisfied about. 
 
 52 
 
410 VALIAXT-FOR-TRUTH REJOICES AT CHRISTIAN A; 
 
 Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrimage 
 of your husband, and ^v•hat he has gotten thereby, is 
 spread abroad far and near. 
 
 Val. Why, is this Christian's wife ? 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes, that it is ; and these are also her four 
 sons. 
 
 Val. What ! and going on pilgrimage too ? 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes, verily, they arc following after. 
 
 Val. It glads me at heart ; good man, how joyful 
 will he be, when he shall see them that would not go 
 with him, to enter before him at the gates into the Ce- 
 lestial citv ! 
 
 Gr.-h. 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. 
 
 Val. 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. 
 
 Gr.-h. Do they 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 these, why not 
 know others, and rejoice in their welfare also ? Again, 
 since relations are our second self, though that state will 
 be dissolved, yet why may it not be rationally concluded 
 that we shall be more glad to see them there, than to see 
 they are \vanting ? 
 
 Val. Weil, I perceive whereabouts you are as to this. 
 Have 3^ou any more things to ask me about my beginning 
 to come on pilgrimage ?* 
 
 Gr.-h. Yes : was your father and mother willing that 
 you should become a pilgrim ? 
 
 Val. Oh! no; they used all means imaginable to 
 persuade me to stay at home. 
 
 • A sound Cliristian is not afraii! to be examinctl, and silted to the bottom. For 
 lie can give a reason of the hope that is in lum. He kuo\i s why and whcreloic he 
 cumiaeuccd a piJijciuit 
 
CARNAL OBJECTIONS TO GOING ON PILGRIMAGE. 411 
 
 Gr.-h. What could they say against it ? 
 
 Val. They said, it was an idle life ; and, if I my- 
 self were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I would never 
 countenance a pilgi'im's condition. 
 
 Gr.-h. And \vhat did they say else ? 
 
 Val. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous 
 way : Yea, the most dangerous way in the world, say they, 
 is that vv'hich the pilgrims go. 
 
 Gr.-h. Did they show^you wherein this way is dan^ 
 
 gerous ? 
 
 Val. Yes: and that in many particulars. 
 
 Gr.-h. Name some of them. 
 
 Val. They told me of the slough of Despond, 
 "wherein 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 Shado\y of Death, 
 v»^here 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 the pilgrims met with there. Further, 
 they said I must go over the Enchanted Ground, which 
 was dangerous. And that after all this I should find a 
 river, over which I should find no bridge ; and that that 
 river did lie betwixt me and the Celestial country. 
 
 Gr.-h. And was this all ? 
 
 Val. 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 their path. 
 
 Gr.-h. But how did they make that out ? 
 
 Val. They told me that Mr. Worldly-wise-man did 
 lie there in wait to deceive. They also said, that there 
 
412 FURTHER OBJECTIONS. 
 
 was Formality and Hypocrisy continually on tlie road. 
 They said also, that By-ends, Talkative, or Demas, 
 A\'ould go near to gather me up : that the Flatterer 
 would catch me in his net ; or that, with gi*een-head- 
 cd Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the 
 gate, from whence he was sent back to the hole that 
 ^vas in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-^vay 
 to hell. 
 
 Gr.-h. I promise you, this was enough to discourage 
 thee. But did they make an end there ? 
 
 Val. No, stay. They told me also of many that 
 tried that way of old, and that had gone a great way 
 therein, to see if they could find something of the glory 
 then, tliat 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 the country. And they named 
 several that did so, as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust 
 and Timorous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with seve- 
 ral more ; \vho, they said, had some of them gone far 
 to see what they could find ; but not one of them found 
 so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of 
 a feather. 
 
 Gr.-h. Said they any thing more to discourage 
 you ? 
 
 Val. 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 liad like to have been starved therein; 
 yea, and also, (which I had almost forgot,) Christian 
 himself, about whom there has been such a noise, after 
 all his ventures for a celestial crown, was certainly drown- 
 ed in the black river, and went never a foot further, how- 
 ever it was smothered up. 
 
 Gr.-k. And did none of these things discourage 
 you? 
 
 Val. No : they seemed as so many nothings to 
 me. 
 
FAITH ANSWERS AND OVERCOMES THEM ALL. 415 
 
 Gr.-h. How came that about ? 
 
 Val. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had 
 said, and that carried me beyond them all. 
 
 Gr.-h. Then this was your victory, even vour 
 faith? 
 
 Val. 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 valour see, 
 
 Let him come hither; 
 One here will coostaot 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 confounds 
 
 His strength the more is, 
 No lion can liim 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 v^hat men say, 
 He'll labour night and day 
 
 To be a pilgrim." 
 
 By this time they were got to the Enclianted 
 Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one 
 drowsy :{a) and that place was all grown over uith 
 briers and thorns, excepting here and there, where 
 
 • Here we see, that valiant soldiers of Christ ascribe all to the exercise of 
 faith. They set out with faith, and they hold on and hold out by believing. Thus 
 th&y give all the glory to Christ, who is the object, author, and finisher of faith. 
 
 (a) Part I. p. 215—338. 
 
414 THH ENCHANTED GROUND DESCRIBED : 
 
 was an enchanted arbour, upon which if a man sits, or in 
 which if a man sleeps, 'tis a question, say some, 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 \\-ent before, for that he was the ^uide, 
 and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being rear-guard ; 
 for fear least pcradventure 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 
 thev cheered up one another as well as they could ; Fee- 
 ble-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 dark- 
 ness fell upon them all ; so that they could scarce, for a 
 great while, one see the other; wherefore they were forced 
 for some time, to feel for one another by words, for they 
 walked not by sight. f But any one must think, tliat 
 here was but sorry going for the best of them all ; but 
 how much the worst was it for the women and child- 
 ren, who both of feet and heart were also but tender ! 
 Yet nevertheless so it was, that through the encouraging 
 words of him that led in the front, and of him tliat 
 brought them up behind, they made a pretty good shift 
 to wag along. 
 
 The way was also here very wearisome, through 
 dirt and slabbiness. Nor \vas there on all this ground 
 so much as one inn or victualling house, wherein to re- 
 fresh the feebler sort. Here therefore was grunting, 
 
 • 01(1 pilgrims, ye who liare set out well, and go on well for a long sea- 
 son, consider, ye are j'et in the world, which is enchanted ground. Know 
 your danger of seeking rest here, or sleeping in any of its enchanting ar- 
 bours. 
 
 t Though feelings niay be lost, light seem to fail, and comforts forsake us, yet 
 faith shall supply the want of all. like Moses, we sUall endure seeing HIM who i* 
 inTisiblc. Hcb. xi. 27. 
 
DIFFICULTIES THERE ENCOUNTERED BY THEM. 4lS 
 
 and puffing, and sighing : while one tiimbleth over a 
 bush, another sticketh fast in the dirt ; and the children, 
 sonve 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 to an arbour, wai'm, and promising 
 much refreshing to the pilgrims : for it was finely 
 wrought above head, beautified with greens, furnished 
 wdth benches and settles. It had in it a soft couch, where 
 the weary might lean. This, you must think, all things 
 considered, was tempting : for the pilgrims already be- 
 gan 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 con- 
 tinually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, 
 and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the 
 nature of dangers, when they were at them, that usually, 
 when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up 
 their spirits, and hearten one another to deny the fle^h.* 
 The arbour was called the Slothful's Friend, on purpose 
 to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims tiiere to 
 take up their rest when ^veary. 
 
 I saw then 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 haa m his pocket a map of all ways lead- 
 ing to or from the Celestial city ; wherefore he struck a 
 light (for he never goes also without his tinder-box,) and 
 takes a view of his book or map, which bids him be 
 
 • Deny yourselves, is the word of Christ. The slothfulness, ease, and desires 
 of the flesh, must be denied, or danger -will inevitably ensue. To grati/y the fleshy 
 is to destroy tlie Spirit's comfort, if not the soul's salvation. 
 
4'IG HEEDLESS AND TOO-BOLD ASLEEP IN AN ARBOUR. 
 
 careful in that place, to turn to the right hand. And had 
 he not here been careful to look in his map, they had 
 in all prolDability been smothered in the mud ; for just a 
 litde before them, and that at the end of the cleanest 
 Avay too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of no- 
 thing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the pil- 
 grims in. 
 
 Then thought I with m}'self, ^vho, that goeth on pil- 
 grimage, 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. 
 
 They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground, till 
 they came to ^vhere there was another arbour, and it was 
 built by the highway-side. And in that arbour there lay 
 two men, whose names were Heedless and Too-bold. 
 These two went thus far on pilgrimage ; but here, being 
 wearied Avith their journey, 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 con- 
 sulted what to do, whether to go on, and leave them in 
 their sleep, or step to them, and try to auake them. So 
 they concluded to go to them, and awake them ; that is 
 if they could ; but with this caution, namely, to take 
 lieed that themselves did not sit down, nor embrace the 
 offered benefit of that arbour.* 
 
 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 vias 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 jxiy you when 
 I take my money." At which die guide shook his 
 
 ' It is the duty, anil will be the practice of iiilgrims, to strive to be instrumental 
 to the (jnoil of others Kiit, at the same time, it behoves tliem to take heed to 
 themselves, and watch, lest they catcl> hnrm from them aud their sonduct. 
 
THE PILGRIMS CAUTIONED BY THEIR EXAMPLE. 417 
 
 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 ? 
 Then the guide said, They talk in their sleep , if you do 
 strike them, or beat them, or whatever else you do un-- 
 to them, they will answer you after this fashion ; or, 
 as one of them said in old time, when the waves of the 
 sea did beat upon him, and he slept as one upon the 
 mast of a ship, " When I do awake, I will seek it yet 
 again, "(c) You know, when men talk in their sleep, 
 they say any tiling ; but their words are not governed 
 either by faith or reason. There is an incoherency in 
 their words now ; even as there was before, betwixt 
 their going on pilgrimage and their sitting down here. 
 This then is the mischief on't, when heedless ones go 
 on pilgrimage, 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 at what time so 
 likely for to be weary, as when they are almost at their 
 journey's end ? Therefore it is, I say, that the Enchant- 
 ed, Ground is placed so nigh to the land of Beulah, and 
 so near the end of their race. Wherefore, let pilgrims 
 look to themselves, lest it happens to them as it hath 
 done 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 
 
 * What a sound sleep of infatuation hath this enchanting world cast many a 
 professor into ! They are proof against all warnings, and dead as to any means of 
 arousing thew, 
 
 (n) I'roT. xxiii. 34, 35. 
 
418 TllEY FIND STANDFAST O^ HIS KNEES. 
 
 the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they 
 ^vent by the help of that, through the rest of this way, 
 though the darkness was very great.*(a) 
 
 But the children began to be sorely weary ; and they 
 cried out unto Him that loveth pilgrims, to m;ike their 
 way more comfortable. So by that they had gone a little 
 further, a \vind arose, that drove away the fog ; so the 
 air became more clear. Yet they were not off, by much, 
 of the Enchanted Ground, but only now they could see 
 one another better, and also 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 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, \vith hands and eyes lift- 
 ed up, and speaking, as they thought, earnestly to one 
 that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell w hat 
 he said ; so they went softly till he had done. When he 
 had done, he got up, and began to run towards the Celes- 
 tial city. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, saving, 
 "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 so soon as Mr, 
 Honest saw him, he said, " I know this man." Then 
 said Mr. Valiant-for-truth, " Pr'ythee, who is it ?" 
 " 'Tis one," said he, " that comes from whereabouts I 
 dwelt : his name is Standfast ; he is certainly a right good 
 pilgrim." 
 
 So they came up one to another ; and presently Stand- 
 fest said to old Honest, "Ho! father Honest, are you 
 there ?" " iVy," said he, " that 1 am, as sure as yoii 
 
 • Tlic word of God is the only light to direct our steps. He who neglects this 
 is a fool. He who sets up, and looks for any other light to direct him, is mad, an'." 
 knows not what he does. 
 
 ((i) 2Pct.i. 19. 
 
HIS REASONS FOR BEING IN THAT POSTURE. 
 
 419 
 
 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 I glad at the sight." 
 *' Why, what did you'think ?" said Standfast. " Think !" 
 said old Honest, " what should I think ? I thought we had 
 an honest man upon the road, therefore should have his 
 company by and by." " If you thought not amiss, how 
 happy am I ; but, if I be not as I should, 'tis I alone 
 must bear it." "That is true," said the other; "but 
 your fear doth further confirm me, that things are right 
 betwixt the Prince of pilgrims and your soul : for he 
 saith, ' Blessed is the man that feareth always.' "* 
 
 Val. 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 some obligations laid by special mercies 
 upon thee, or how ? 
 
 Stand. Why, we are, as you see, upon the En- 
 chanted 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 mEiny, that had come even 
 thus far on pilgrimage, had here been stojit, and been 
 destroyed. 1 thought also of the manner of death, with 
 which this place destroyeth men. Those that die here, 
 die of no violent distemper : the death which such do 
 die, is not grievous to tliem ; for he that goeth away in a 
 sleep, begins that journey with desire and pleasure : yea, 
 such acquiesce in the will of that disease. 
 
 Then Mr. Keenest, interrupting of him, said, Did you 
 see the two men asleep in the arbour ? 
 
 Stand. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and also Too-bold 
 there ; and, for aught I know, that there they v,'ill lie 
 until they rot: (a) but let me go on with my tale. — As 
 
 * He who feareth always, will pray evermore. The fear of the heart will 
 bring pilgrims on their kneea. He wlio feacs to be, or go wrong, will pray to be 
 set right. 
 
 (o) Prov. X. 7. 
 
420 STANDFAST IS ACCOSTED BY MADAM BUBBLE : 
 
 I was thus musing, as I said, there was one in pleasant 
 attire, but old, Avho presented herself unto me, and of- 
 fered me three things ; to wit, her body, licr 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 ^vitch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and twice ; 
 but she jnit by my repulses and smiled. Then I began 
 to be angry ; but she mattered that nothing at all. l^ien 
 she made oifers 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 see, 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 great deli\er- 
 ance ; for I verily believe she intended no good, but 
 rather sought to make a stop of me in my journej .^ 
 
 Hon. Without doubt her designs were bad. But stay, 
 now you talk of her, methinks I either have seen her, or 
 have read some story of her. 
 
 Stand. Perhaps you have done both. 
 
 Hon. Madam Bubble ! is she not a tall, comely 
 dame, something of a swarthy complexion ? 
 
 Stand. Right, you hit it, she is just such an one. 
 
 Hon. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you 
 a smile at the end of every sentence ? 
 
 Stand. You fall right upon it again, for these are her 
 actions. 
 
 " O pilgrims ! beware of this Mailnm Btilible. Know and consifler ■well, that 
 ye have a nature exactly suited to accept of hei* offers, and to fall in love with her 
 promises. The riches, honours, anri pleasures of the world ; what mortal can 
 xvithstanil ? Or who can forego them ? No one, but he who sees more charms in 
 Jesus, more glory in his cross, and more comfort in the enjoyment of his love and 
 presence : and tlierefpre is continually looking and cryiiu; to him, " Turn away 
 mine eyes from beholding vanity. Instruct my soul in thy way. Keep mc closely 
 following thee. Lord, lUou art the 1 4ji tioii of my soul 1" 
 
GREAT-HEART'S ACCOUNT OF HER. 421 
 
 Hon. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side ? 
 and is not her hand often in it fingering her money, as if 
 that was her heart's delight ? 
 
 Stand. 'Tisjust so : had she stood by all this while, 
 you could not more amply have set her forth before me, 
 and have better described her features. 
 
 Hon. Then he that drew her picture was a good lim- 
 ner, and he that wrote of her said true. 
 
 Gr.-h. This woman is a witch ; and it is by virtue of 
 her soceries, that this ground is enchanted : whoever 
 doth lay their head down in her lap, hud as good lay it 
 down upon that block over which the axe doth hang ; 
 and whoever lays their eyes upon her beauty, are counted 
 the enemies of God. (a) This is she that maintaineth in 
 their splendour all those that are the enemies of pilgrims. 
 Yea, this is she that hath brought off many a man from 
 a pilgrim's life. She is a great gossipper ; she is always, 
 both she and her daughters, at one pilgrim's heels or 
 another, now commending, and then preferring the ex- 
 cellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut ; 
 she will talk with any man. She always laughed 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 ban- 
 quetting and feasting mainly well ; she is alwajs 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 her's. She promiseth to dwell with 
 children's children, if they would but love and make 
 much of her. She will cast out of her purse gold like 
 dust, in some pla'ces, 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 com- 
 modities, and she loves them most that think best of 
 
 («) James iv, 4. 1 John ii. 14, 15. 
 
422 HE CONTINUES HIS ACCOUNT OF MADAM BUBBLE. 
 
 Iicr. She will promise crowns and kingdoms, if they will 
 but take her advice : yet many hath she brought to the 
 halter, and ten thousand times more to hell. 
 
 Oh ! said Standfast, what a mercy it is that I did resist 
 her ! for whither might she have drawn me ?* 
 
 Gr.-h. Whither ! nay none but God knows. But, in 
 general, to be sure she would have drawn thee into " ma- 
 ny foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men in destruc- 
 tion and perdition. "(a) It was she that set Absalom 
 against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. It 
 was she duL ijcrsuudcd Juda'; 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 neighbour and neighbour, betwixt a 
 man and his wife, between a man and himself, betwixt the 
 flesh and the spirit. — Wherefore, good master Standfast, 
 be as your name is ; and " when you have done all, 
 stand." 
 
 At this discourse there was, among the pilgrims, a mix- 
 ture of joy and trembling ; but at length they brake out, 
 and sang — 
 
 "What danger is tlie pilgrim ia? 
 
 How many are his foes ? 
 How many ways there are to sin, 
 
 JSo living mortal knows. 
 Some in tlie ditch spoil'd are, yea can 
 
 Lie tumbling in the mire; 
 Some, thougl) they shun the fryiog-pao, 
 
 Do leap into the fire." 
 
 • In the experience of this most excellent man, we see verified Go<l's faithful- 
 ness in nphol(\in2, :iii(l brinp;in<; oft' more than eonqiierors all who '• call upon Him in 
 tho (lay of trouble !" O! for an increase of precious fMitli, to overcome the world, 
 and to pass through it, in pursuit of a nobler portion, as strangers and pil- 
 grims! 
 
 (rt) I Tim. Ti. 9. 
 
THE PILGRIMS ARRIVE AT THE LAND OP BEULAH. 42^ 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE PILGRIMS ARRIVE AT THE LAND OF BEULAH; WHERE 
 THEY WAIT FOR THE SUMMONS OF THEIR KING CHRIS- 
 TIANA AND SEVERAL OF HER COMPANIONS PASS THE 
 RIVER, AND ARE ADMITTED INTO THE CITY OF GOD. 
 
 After this, I beheld, until they were come unto the 
 land of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day. (a) 
 Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves 
 awhile to rest : and because this country was common 
 for pilgrims, and because these 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 thii^gs. But a little while soon refreshed them 
 here ; for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets con- 
 tinually sounding so melodiousl}', that they could not 
 sleep ; and yet they received as much refreshing, as if 
 they slept their sleep never so soundly. Here also all the 
 noise of them that walked in the streets, was " More pil- 
 grims 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 tiiem, and 
 comfort them after their sorrow." Then the pilgrims got 
 up, and walked to and fro : but ho^v were their eyes now 
 filled with celestial visions ! In this land, they heard no- 
 thing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelt nothing, tasted 
 nothing, that was offensive to their stomach or mind ; onlv 
 when they tasted of the water of the river, over which 
 they were to go, they thought that tasted a little bitter- 
 ish to the palate, but it proved sweet when it was down. 
 
 (a) Parti, p. 195, 
 
424 CHRISTIATJA SUMMONED TO PASS THE RIVER. 
 
 Ill 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 tliat they had done. It was here also 
 much discoursed, how the river to some has its flowings, 
 and what ebbings it has had ^^•hile others have gone over. 
 It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has over- 
 floued its banks for others. 
 
 In this place, the children of the touTi would go into 
 the King's gardens, and gather nosegays for the pilgrims, 
 and bring them to them with affection. Here also gre\\ 
 camphire, and spikenard, saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, 
 Avich all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with 
 all chief spices. With these the pilgrims' chambers were 
 perfumed while they staid here ; and with these were 
 their bodies anointed, to prepare them to go over the 
 riA'cr, 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 matters 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 pre- 
 sented her with a letter : the contents were, — " Hail, 
 good ^voman ! I bring thee tidings, that the Master eall- 
 cth for thee, and expecteth that thou shouldest stand in 
 his presence in clothes of immortalit}-, 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 sharpened with love, let easily 
 into her heart, which, by degrees wrought so effectual- 
 ly with her, that at the time appointed she must be 
 gojie. 
 
 VVhcn 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 hoNv matters were. So he told her, he was 
 
SHE EXHORTS HER CHILDREN AND COMPANIONS. 425 
 
 heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad 
 had the post come for him. Then she bid that he 
 should give advice how all things should be prepared 
 for her journey. So he told her, saying, thus and thus 
 it must be ; and we that survive, will accompany you to 
 the river-side. 
 
 Then she called for her children, and gave them her 
 blessing ; and told them that she had read with com- 
 fort 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 commandecl 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 your- 
 self true-hearted ; be faithful unto death, and my King 
 will give you a crown of life. 1 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, m whom is no 
 guile." Then said he, " I wish you a fair day, when 
 you set out for mount Zion, 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. But watch and be ready ; for at an hour 
 when you think not, the messenger may come." 
 
 • 54 
 
426 SHE PASSES THE RIVER TRIUMPHANTLY, 
 
 After him came in Mr. Despondaicy, and his daugh- 
 ter Much-afraid ; to whom she said, " You ought with 
 thankfulness for ever to remember your deHverance from 
 the hand of giant Despair, and out of Doubting Castle. 
 The effect of that mercy is, that you are brought with 
 safety hither. Be yet watchful, and east away fear ; be 
 ?iober, and hope to the end." 
 
 Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, " Thou \vast 
 delivered from the mouth of giant Slay-good, that thou 
 mightest live in the light of the living for ever, and see 
 the King with comfort : only I advise thee to repent 
 thee of thy aptness to fear, and doubt of his goodness, 
 before he sends for thee ; lest thou 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 jour^ 
 ney. 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 Avith a beckon of farewell to 
 those that followed her to the river-side. 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 that those that waited for Christiana had carried 
 her out of their sight. So she went and called, and 
 entered in at the gate, ^\ ith all the ceremonies of joy 
 that her husband Christian had entered with before 
 her. 
 
 At her departure the children wept. But Mr. Great- 
 jieart and Mr. Valiant played upon the well-tuned cym- 
 bal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective 
 places.* 
 
 • O liow blessed is the ileatli of the righteous, who (Vie in (he Lord ! Even a 
 Vickol UabHin could wish for this. liut it will be granted to none bnt thoi' 
 
«EADY.TO-HALT SUMMONED TO PASS THE RIVER. 427 
 
 In process of time, there came a post to the town again, 
 and his business was with. Mr. Ready-to-halt So he in- 
 quired him out, and said, " I am come to thee in the 
 name of 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 
 thy journey." — Then he also gave him a token that he 
 was a true messenger, saying, " I have broken the golden 
 bowl, and loosed the silver cord."(£z) 
 
 After this, Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow-piK 
 grims, 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 
 iDcqueath to my son that shall tread in my steps with an 
 himdred 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, 
 
 who have lived in the Lord, -whose souls have been quickened by his Spirit, to come 
 unto Jesus, believe in him, and glory of him as their righteousness and salvation, 
 and desire to be found in him, in life in death, and at the bar of judgment. O may 
 we cry to the Lord, to make as of the happy number ! 
 
 * See the joyful end of one ready to halt at every step. Tate courage hencfj 
 ye lame, halting pilgrims. 
 
 (a) Eccles, xii. 1 — 7, 
 
428 FEEBLE-MIND, DESPONDENCY, HIS DAUGHTEU, 
 
 that thy Master hath need of thee, and that in a ve- 
 ry little time thou must behold his face in bright- 
 ness. And take this as a token of the trutli of my mes- 
 sage : " Those that look out at the windows, shall be 
 darkened." 
 
 Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told 
 them what errand had been brought unto him, and ^\•hat 
 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, for that I have no need of 
 it in the place \vhither I go ; nor is it worth bestowing 
 upon the poorest pilgrim ; wherefore when I am gone, I 
 desire that you, Mr. Valiant, would bury it in a dunghill." 
 Tills done, and the day being come in which he was to 
 depart, he entered the river as the rest : his last words 
 \vere, " 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, tiike this for a proof: so he 
 gave *' a grasshopper to be a burden unto him." — 
 Now Mr. Despondency's daughter, A\^hose name was 
 Much-afraid, said, Avhen she had 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, for ever : for I know- 
 that after my death, they will offer themselves to 
 others. For, to be plain v/ith you, they are guests 
 
AND HONEST'S DEPARTURE. 429 
 
 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, thev 
 went up to the brink of the riv^r. 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 his house, where he was, and delivered to his 
 hands these lines : " Thou art commanded to be ready 
 against this day se'nnight, to present thyself before thy 
 J^ord, at his Father's house." And, for a token that my 
 message is true, " All the daughters of music shall be 
 brought low."— Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, 
 and said unto them, " 1 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 overflowed the banks in some places ; but 
 Mr. Honest, in his life-time, 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. t 
 
 After this, it was noised about that Mr. Valiant- for- 
 truth was taken with a summons by the same post as 
 
 * Pilgrims, mind this. It is as much your duty to strive in the strength of the 
 Lord, against anreasonablfe doubts and slavisli fears as against sin. Nay, are they 
 not, in their own nature, tlie worst of sins, as they spring from infidelitv, and 
 dishonour God's precious truth, glorious grace, and everlasting salvation. Never, 
 never then, cherish or give -way to them, hut resist and shut the door of your 
 hearts against them. 
 
 ■)■ O how happy to die, under a sweet sense of the reign of grace ! Such have, 
 their consciences purified by the blood, and made good by the faith of the resur- 
 rection of Jesus. And they shall reign with him in his kingdom. 
 
4^(j VAUANT-FOR-TRUTH PASSES THE RIVEB. 
 
 the Other ; and had this for a token, that the summons 
 was true, that " his pitcher Avas broken at the foun- 
 tain." 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 got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trou- 
 ble 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 liis battles, who now will be my 
 re warder." 
 
 When the day that he must go hence was come, many 
 accompanied him to the river-side, into ^\hich as he went, 
 he said, " Death, where is thy sting ?" and as he wei^: 
 down deeper, he said, " Grave, where is thy victory ?" 
 So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him 
 on the other side.* 
 
 Then there came foi'th a summons for Mr. Stand- 
 fast. This Mr. Standfast was he that the pilgrims 
 found upon his knees in the Enchanted Ground, and 
 the post brought it him open in his hands : the con- 
 tents whereof were, that he must prepare for a change 
 of life, for his Master was not willing that he should 
 be so far from him any longer. At this Mr. Stand - 
 last was put into a muse. " Nay," said the messen- 
 ger, " you need not doubt of the truth of ni}' message, 
 for here is a token of the truth thereof, — " Thy wheel 
 is broken at the cistern." Then he called to him Mr. 
 Great-heart, who was their guide, and said unto him, 
 *' Sir, although it was not my hap to be much in your 
 good company in the days of my pilgrimage, yet, since 
 the time I knew you, you have been profitable to me. 
 
 • In llie truth of Jesus is victory. He who is most vahant for it, shall share 
 most of its comforts in hfe, and in deatli O Lonl, increase our faith in the nevcr- 
 lailuig word of truth aud grace, for tliy glory, and our souls' triumph. 
 
STANDFAST'S SPEECH IN THE RIVER. 431 
 
 When I came from liome, I left behind me a wife and 
 five small children ; let me entreat joii, at your return 
 (for I know that you go and return to your Master's 
 house, in hopes that you may be a conductor to more of 
 his holy pilgrims,) that you send to my family, and let 
 them be acquainted with all that hath and shall happen un- 
 to me. Tell them, moreover, of my happy arrival at 
 this place, and of the present and late blessed condition 
 that I am in. Tell them also of Christian and Christiana 
 his wife, and how she and her children came after her 
 husband. Tell them also of what a happy end she made, 
 and whither she is gone. — I have little or nothing to send 
 to my family, except it be my prayers and tears for them : 
 of which it will suffice if you acquaint them, if perad ven- 
 ture 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 lie 
 was about halfway in, stood awhile and talked to his com- 
 panions 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 : 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 this Jordan. («) The waters, in- 
 deed, are to the palate bitter, and to the stomach cold j 
 yet the thoughts of what I am going to, and of the con- 
 duct that waits for me on the other side, doth lie as a 
 glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end 
 of my journey ; my toilsome days are ended. I am go- 
 ing to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and 
 that face that was spit upon for me.* I have formerly 
 
 • O ! the blessedness, and joy of faith ? How does it bring near, and realize a 
 ♦iew of Christ in glory; Do we indeed see Christby the eye of faith ? Is he the ou«j 
 
 (»> Josh, iii, 17, 
 
432 THE PILGRIMS ENTER THE CITY TRIUMPHANTLY. 
 
 lived by hearsay and faith ; but now I go where I shall 
 live by sight, and shall be witli him in \\hose company I 
 delight niysclf. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken 
 of ; and wherever 1 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 per- 
 fumes. His voice to me has been most sweet ; and his 
 countenance 1 have more desired than they that have 
 most desired the light of the sun. His words I did 
 use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my 
 faintings. He has held me, and hath kept me from mine 
 iniquities ; yea, my steps have been strengthened in his 
 Avay." 
 
 Now, while he was thus in discourse, his countenance 
 changed ; his " strong man bowed under him :" and, af- 
 ter 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 on stringed instruments, to wel- 
 come the pilgrims as they went up, and followed one an- 
 other in at the beautiful gate of the city. 
 
 As for Christiana's children, the four boys that Chris- 
 tiana 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, they were yet alive, and so would 
 be for the increase of the church in that place where they 
 were, for a time. 
 
 chief object of our souls ? Is he precious to tis ? Verily, then: we shall count our 
 (lavs on earth toilsome ones, and long for the full fruition of him in Rlory. It will 
 b(! our great glory to see him, whose blessed bead was crowned with tliorns, and 
 whose lovel) face was spit upon lor us ; till then, let us hve by faith in him, con- 
 slaiiilv cr\ing, "Come, Lord Jesus, come tinickly." 
 
 * Can you say this ; IJo you love to hear of the precious name of Jesus .' Do you 
 covet to follow him, and to treatl in his st-ps ? O wh;;t has grace wrought ! Be hum- 
 ble before Jesus. Be joyful in him, and thanklul to him. 
 
CONCLUSION. 433 
 
 Shall it be my lot to go that way again, I may give those 
 that desire it, an account of what I here am silent about ; 
 mean time, I bid my reader 
 
 Farewell.* 
 
 * Who can read this chapter, (observes the Rev. Mr. Burder) without ex- 
 claiming in words once received from heaven, *' Blessed are the dead which die in 
 the Lord : yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours !" In the 
 important article of death, the privileges of believers appear distinguishing indeed. 
 To human nature, unassisted by grace, death, the awful punishment of sin, is 
 *' The King of Terrors." Bitter indeed, and insupportably painful, are the thoughts 
 of death to men who have their " portion in this life," and who are at ease in their 
 possessions. IIow horrible, to be torn away fi'om all they love, and plunged at once 
 into the unutterable miseries of the damned! How enviable, even to such, is the 
 calm and serene frame of a dying saint ! Here the monster seems to have lost his 
 sting, having left it in the bleeding body of Jesus. Death has changed its nature 
 and its name. Call it no more death; it is the sweet sleep of the bodv, deposited 
 in its earthly bed, under the eye of the Redeemer, till the morning of the resui*- 
 rection. 
 
 At the close of this excellent book, Tsays the excellent Mr. Mason) let me ad- 
 dress one word, reader, to your soul and mine. What think ive of a pilgrim's life 
 and a pilgrim's death ? His life begins with the knowledge of Christ, and ends by 
 dying in him, and eternally enjoying of him. And all through life, the pilgrim 
 looks to, and lives upon Christ. Blessed beginning ! comfortable living ! joyful 
 dying ! 
 
 Now, have we part and lot in this matter ? Is Christ our life ? the life of cue 
 souls ? If he is, we shall live by faith upon him. rely on his atonement, glory in his 
 righteousness, rejoice in his salvation, have done with all sin, and be "dead to all 
 self-righteous confidence ; and in heart, lip, and life, study to glorify him, by de- 
 voting ourselves to him, looking, langing. and waiting for his coming to receive us to 
 himself, that where he is, there we may be also 
 
 As many as live by this faith, and walk according to this rule, pe.ice be on them, 
 from the holy, blessed, and glorious Trinity. Amen, 
 
 EXD OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 
 
DIRECTIONS 
 
 TO THE BIjVDER FOR PLACIjYG TBE PLATES. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Portrait, to face the Title-pas^e* 
 
 Evangelist and Christian under Mount Sinai, 
 
 to face Page 67 
 
 Christian, Hopeful, and the Shepherds, on 
 
 Mount Clear 198 
 
 The Pilgrims, having passed the River, are re- 
 ceived by the Ministering Spirits 24S 
 
 PART II. 
 
 Christiana prevails with her Children, &:c. 
 
 (the subject taken from Page 268,) to 
 
 face the Title-page. 
 Muck- Rake to face 291 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Page 
 The Author''s imprisonment and dream — Christian, convinced 
 of sin. flies from the wrath to come, and is directed by the 
 gospel to Christ --.---.-49 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Christian proceeds — Obstinacy refuses to accompany him — 
 Pliable goes as far as the Slough, and returns - . 53 
 
 CftAP. III. 
 
 Christian, deceived by the advice of Mr. Worldly-rviseman, 
 turns out of the may, and is greatly alarmed; but happily 
 meeting with Evangelist, returns to the right path, and pro- 
 ceeds on his journey - - • - - - - 61 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Christian arrives at the Wicket gate, where he knocks, and is 
 kindly received - - - - -- - - 71 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Christian delightfully entertained at the Interpreter's house 76 
 
 CHAP VI. 
 Christian loses his burden at the Cross - - - - 88 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 Christian finds Simple, Sloth, and Presumption fast asleep — 
 Is despised by Formalist and Hypocrisy — Ascends the Hill 
 Difficulty — Loses his roll, and finds it again - - 90 
 
 CHAP. vrii. 
 
 Christian safely passes the lions ; and arrives at the house 
 called Beautiful, where he is kindly received, and agreeably 
 entertained - -100 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Christian enters the Valley of Humiliation, where he is fiercely 
 assaulted by Apollyon, but overcomes him - • 113 
 
CONTENTS. 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Page 
 Christian sorely distressed in the F alley of the Shadow of Deaths 
 through which, however, he passes unhurt - - - 122 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Christian meets with an excellent companion in Faithful, with 
 whom he has ynuch profitable conversation - - - 129 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 The picture of an empty professor accurately drawn, in the 
 character of Talkative, son of Mr. Say-well of Prating-row 1 40 
 
 CHAP. xni. 
 
 Persecution exhibited, in the treatment of Christian and Faith- 
 ful in Fanity-Fair - - - - - - -153. 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Christian meets with another excellent companion in Hope- 
 fid — Dialogues between them. By-ends, Money-love, and 
 Demas 168 
 
 CHAP. XY. 
 
 Christian and Hopeful mistake their way, and fall into the 
 hands of giant Despair - - - - - -182 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 The Pilgrims entertained by the Shepherds on the Delectable 
 Mountains • - - - - - - -194 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 The Pilgrims meet with Ignorance — The robbery of J Attle faith 
 related — Christian and Hopeful caught in the net • - 199 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 The Pilgrims meet with Mheist, and pass over the Enchanted 
 Ground - - -214 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 The Pilgrims have another conference with Ignorance - 225 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The Pilgrims travel the plrnsatit country of Beulah — safely 
 pass the river of Death, and are admitted into the glorious 
 City of God 238 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART THE SECOND. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Page 
 Christiana, with her four Sons, and a neighbour, set out on 
 pilgrimage ---.--.«- 259 
 
 CHAP. n. 
 
 Christiana, Mercy, and the Children, pass the Slough with 
 safety, and are kindly received at the Wicket-gate - - 276 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The Pilgrims are assaulted, but relieved — Are entertained at 
 the Interpreter's house - - - - » - 28 1 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The Pilgrims, conducted by Great-hcarl, proceed on their 
 journey .-----.-. 302 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The Pilgrims ascend the Hill Difficulty, pass the lions, and 
 arrive at the house Beautiful - - - - - 312 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Mr. Brisk pays his addresses to Mercy — Matthew taken ill, 
 but recovers, &c. - - - - - - -327 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 The Pilgrims pursue their journey, and pass through the Val- 
 ley of Humiliation, and of the Shadow of Death - - 333 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 The Pilgrims overtake Mr. Honest, who relates his own expe- 
 rience, and that of Mr. Fearing ----- 352 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 The character of Mr. Self-will 364 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The Pilgrims arrive at the house of Gains, where they are 
 hospitably entertained - - 36S 
 
COX-TEKTti. 
 
 CHAP. xr. 
 
 Page 
 The Pilgrims continue at the house of Gaius ; from whence 
 they sally out, and destroy giant Slay-good, a cannibal ; and 
 rescue Mr. Feeble-mind - - - - - -375 
 
 CHAP. XII 
 
 The Pilgrims are joined by Mr. Ready-lo-halt ; and proceed 
 to the town of Fanity, where they are agreeably lodged by 
 Mr. Mnason ; and meet with agreeable company — They 
 encounter a formidable monster ----- 383 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Pilgrims kill giant Despair and his wife ; and totally de- 
 molish his castle — They jnoceed to the Delectable Mountains 394 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 The company joined by Mr. Valiant and Mr. Standfast — 
 They pass over the Enchanted Ground — A description of 
 Madam Bubble 406 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 The Pilgrims arrive at the land of Beulah ; where they wait 
 for the summons of their King — Christiana and several 
 of her companions pass the river, and are admitted into 
 the City of God 423 
 
/