OF THE U N I VLR.S ITY Of ILLINOIS Received by bequest from Albert H. Lybyer Professor of History University of Illinois 1916-1949 © 5 > ^7e> iEJ U rl y a M's TIIE WORKS OK THAT EMINENT SERVANT OF CHRIST, OHN BUNYAN, MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL. ILLUSTRATED EDITION. TWO VOLUMES IN ONE. PHILADELPHIA: BRADLEY & CO., 66 N. FOURTH STREET 1871 . < / Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, by BRADLEY & CO., In tne Office of the Librarian of Congress, at 'Washington, Westcott 8 k Thomson, Str'voiy/ers, P/ulada. Caxton Press oj Sherman & Co., Philadelphia. INTRODUCTION TO TIIE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN BUNYAN. By Rev. JOHN P. GULLIVER, D.D., President of Knox College, Galesburg, Illinois. The career of Bunyan is a marvel. It will repay the labour of a careful analysis by the rhetorician, the orator, the writer of fiction, the preacher, the Sabbath-school teacher and the Christian parent ; for each of these may draw out fronTSome portion of his multifarious productions the secret of success in his own department of effort. THE SUCCESS OF BUNYAN. The literary rank of Bunyan. Bunyan was successful even in his wickedness. He styles himself, as Paul did, “The chief of sinners.” In both cases the title was deserved, not so much on account of eminent depravity as of eminent ability and energy. All the natural qualities which afterward gave him power as a Christian preacher and writer were exhibited in his leadership in profanity, in revilings, and in all iniquity. Bunyan was successful as a Christian man, as a popular orator, as a practical religious writer, and to no small extent as a theologian. In some of these departments his suc- cess has been most remarkable. Bunyan was an illiterate man. He was an ordinary mechanic — “a tinker,” as the parlance of the times termed him. Unlike the craftsmen of our nation and age, he had enjoyed only the most , limited opportunity for education. Yet his language possesses some of the highest quali- 1 'ties known to rhetoric ; his thought, even in his most abstract treatises, where it is cum- Jwbered with the system of minute subdivision then in vogue, is precise, discriminating, ■ comprehensive, and at times profound ; while the peculiar vitality of the Pilgrim’s Progress and the Holy War has made them the delight alike of child and man, of the Y cottager and the king, of the cultured and the unlettered. If there is any book 4 except King James’ Bible which has a surer prospect than any other of a permanent ^ place in English literature, that book is Bunyan's Pilgrim’s Progress. Is it claiming too .much if it is placed on an equality, in this respect, even with the Paradise Lost and the ^lays of Shakespeare ? In language, Bunyan certainly has the advantage, for he wrote Y^n the dialect of the English Bible, which was the popular dialect of Bu uyan s lan ' £ the day, modified and elevated to suit the sacred use to which it was guage. 3 4 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. Bunyan’s literary resources. applied. The words of Shakespeare already require a glossary. Much of his vocabu- lary, though by no means the whole of it, is destined to become as obsolete as that of Chaucer is now. But the most unlettered reader finds no obscurity clouding the words of Bunyan’s allegories. They are taken from the very warp and woof of the English language, not merely as it was spoken at the time, but as it has been spoken since, and as it will continue to be spoken so long as the English Bible gives law to English speech. The words of the royal Milton, immortal as they will surely be among the learned, are growing yearly less intelligible to the people. But the words of Bunyan, aside from an occasional quaintness, are as easily understood by the English-speaking population of the world as they were the day they were written. In other respects than in language it would be presumptuous to compare Bunyan with the masters of English literature. His clas- sical training was confined to Fox’s “ Book of Martyrs” and the Bible. His early reading was comprehended by “The Practice of Piety” and the “Plain Man’s Pathway to Heaven” — two books which constituted the only marriage-portion of his wife. But the paucity of his resources only renders more wonderful the results he gained. If we consider literary success to consist in power over men, it may be doubted whether Bunyan should not still be placed in the very front rank. The impersonations * of Shakespeare will undoubtedly be as permanent as are the traits of the human nature which he has photographed. But it can be said, with equal truth, that the impersona- tions of Bunyan, rude and unfinished as they sometimes seem, will possess an interest so long as the process of man’s redemption from sin is a thing which angels or men desire to look into. The classic machinery of Milton’s visions, grand and impressive as it certainly is, begins to seem ponderous and unwieldy to the readers of our times, as if we were made the spectators of a tournament of mediaeval knights in iron armour. But the creations of the Interpreter’s Plouse, Doubting Castle, the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and of the Land of Beulah, are as clear and fresh and beautiful to the readers of the nineteenth as to those of the sixteenth century. The literary immortality which has been an object of intense ambition to many of the most gifted men of the race has been gained, without a thought or an effort, by the humble story-teller of Bedford jail. Similar remarks might be made concerning the theological rank icaio-ank 11 Sthe0l ° S these writings. Not a despicable theologian in his graver homi- lies, Bunyan becomes almost an inspired prophet in his religious fic- tions. The greatest of the systematic theologians will be left behind by the progress of the careful study of God’s truth. But when Augustine and Calvin and Edwards have ceased to be recognized as authorities, the theology they taught, changed from the abstract to the concrete, will be studied and accepted in the simple adventures of Chris- tian and his family, in the deeds of Faithful and the experience of Hopeful, and in the wonderful sights of the Delectable Mountains. That such anticipations concerning the literary “immortality” of The early success ^.j iese uil jq ue works of sanctified genius are not visionary, may be of Bunyan’s works. J , „ n . , , . „ , . , safely argued from their immediate success at the time of their pub- lication, and from the permanency of their high place in literature since. The sale which followed their first publication in England, amounting to more than one hundred thousand copies — an immense issue for the times — their republication in the infant colo- nies of New England, their speedy translation into the languages of the French, the Dutch, the Flemings, the Highland Scotch, and the -Irish, is but the introduction of a career of influence and popularity to which, among uninspired writings, the works of Shakespeare present perhaps the only parallel in the history of literature. INTRODUCTION TO THU COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. Such ft phenomenon in the world of letters, nnd such n power in the kingdom of Christ, challenge a scrutinizing examination alike from the critic and the Christian. TIIE SPECIAL SUBJECT OF THIS ESSAY. Our main inquiry in this essay will be for the causes of this success. ^ hat made Bunyan for six years after his conversion a convcnti- Inquiry for the cle exhorter so formidable to the proud Episcopate of the realm that ' " 1 ‘ only the thick walls of the Bedford jail, under the sentence of the Bedford justices, sustained by no less a jurist than Sir Matthew Hale, could protect the English hierarchy against his sturdy blows? Why should the refusal to use the “Book of Common Prayer” — a frequent and in most men a scarcely noticeable violation of the bigoted English statutes of the day- have become a crime of such magnitude in Bunyan as to demand the expiation of a twelve years’ imprisonment? What was the inspiration that made those twelve years an era in English literature, and endowed the Bedford jail with a literary celebrity not inferior to that of the Arno and the Avon? And what was the spell which, after his release, drew constant crowds to the dreamer’s spacious chapel in Bedford ? It is plain that the discovery of Bunyan’s secret, if our. analysis be delicate enough to catch and retain for examination a quality so spiritual, would render a most im- portant service to all who, in any capacity, are seeking “ to preach the gospel to every creature.” THE PREACHING OF BUNYAN COMP A RED WITH THE PREACHING OF OUR SAVIOUR. The writer who can at the same time inform the intellect and move the sensibilities, has reached the perfection of his art. The speaker who can “so speak” as to affect at once the scholar and the peasant, and to charm all classes of men by the same spell, is the consummate orator. Among the examples of such success, Jesus our Saviour stands unapproached. Of his merely human imitators, perhaps none has achieved so great and so permanent success as John Bunyan. To analyze the style of the one and to deter- mine the elements of his power will be to discover the secret of the other. Such an analysis, moreover, will give the solution of one of Tho sollltlon ' ‘ * . . great question of the most important questions of our era, viz. : How may the gospel be our era so preached that men shall crowd to hear it, as they thronged the river banks in the days of John the Baptist, as they covered the mountain acclivities to listen to Jesus of Nazareth, and as they flocked to the spacious chapel in Bedford and hung entranced upon the lips of Bunyan ? Contrary to a very common impression, it must be admitted that our Saviour was eminently a doctrinal preacher. Whether his success . . "! l " lira ' oc ' were owing to this peculiarity, or whether he was successful in spite of it, no man can question the fact that instruction, and that in the deep things of God — in “ those things which,” as he himself says, “had been kept secret from the founda- tion of the world” — was his constant aim. That is a most superficial and unappreciative view of Christ’s teaching which supposes it to have been wholly or chiefly confined to the sphere of practical ethics. From the Sermon on the Mount, which is a most compact and profound doctrinal discourse, to the conversation with Peter in the twenty-first chapter of John, which was a most acute analysis of the “ evidences of regeneration,” 6 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. '‘his doctrine drops as the rain and distils as the dew.” Such themes as the origin of evil and its proper treatment, the nature, origin, and evidences of the new birth, the im- possibility of salvation by personal goodness, the necessity of faith to produce personal goodness, the mystery whereby Christ, “ being a man, made himself equal with God,” the peculiarities of the kingdom of heaven as compared with human governments, the abso- lute, Divine control over free human acts, the essential unity of the believing soul and its Saviour, together with many another of the most profound and even metaphysical truths, such as are calling forth the liveliest denunciations of the sensational preacher of our era, were the themes of his daily discourse. Nor need we hesitate to admit that this richness in doctrinal dis- Doctnne essential cuss } on was a positive and even a prime element in his success, as it to all popular sue- . q cess _ must be in all permanent success m popular teaching, everywhere and in every age. Truth is the natural pabulum of the human soul. From infancy to old age, among barbarians and philosophers, the inquiry is the same: “What is truth?” If the feelings are moved, or the will is determined, it is always by means of somethirig thought — that is, through the intellect. Even the fancies of the poetical preacher are attractive only through their verisimilitude. Christ gave to the famishing minds about him this bread of life in rich abundance, and they who ate of it never knew hunger again. To say that the writings of Bunyan, the most attractive religious Buny an also a doc teacher of modern times, are distinguished for their wealth of doc- trinal preacher. . ° trinal truths, is to repeat what every reader, even of his most popular works, well knows. In his three great religious dramas, the Pilgrimages of Christian and Christiana and the Holy War, every character is a personified fact, and every incident is a vitalized doctrine. No man can thoroughly understand the Pilgrim’s Prog- ress without becoming an accomplished theologian. The power of the book is largely due to this fact. As a story, it has no plot. Its characters are simple enough for a nursery tale. Its fancies are quaint, and even rude. The playwright and the bookmonger would ridicule an author who should expect success with the public by the use of such simple machinery. Yet the Pilgrim’s Progress is successful, more successful, certainly in popular impressiveness, than even the plays of Shakespeare, to which, in some respects, it bears a marked resemblance, but to which, in all the requisites for dramatic impression, except the single one now under discussion, it would be preposterous to compare it. The peculiar power of the book is to be found in its presentation of truth. The doc- trines bristle along its pages like cannon upon the walls of a citadel. The attention of the reader is constantly aroused by a strong, bold, and almost explosive utterance of the successive truths of evangelical Christianity, reinforced, almost uniformly, by a scrip- tural reference, and expressed with such unquestionable common sense as to silence cavil before it can be spoken. The opening scene gives vividly a contrast between justification by faith and by works, which is equal in polemic power to a dozen controversial treatises. In the prog- ress of the allegory all the great doctrines, from total depravity to the resurrection, are clearly set forth, with the omission of scarcely a shade or a phase which has any prac- tical adaptation or value. The reader is constantly stimulated by new' discoveries. He adds, from each page, something to his store of thought on the profoundest and mightiest themes which can engage the human mind. He is not only entertained, but he is con- scious of being instructed. His pleasure is accompanied with respect lor the author, for the work, for himself as engaged in the best culture both of mind and heart, and for the system of Christian doctrine which shines out so clearly and gloriously from the simple narrative he is reading. INTRODUCTION TO TIIN COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. In tlicso particulars a marked similarity is to be traced between the writings of Hun* yan and the teachings of the “ Great Teacher.” Jesus a preacher. populnr The manner of Christ’s teaching. The manner of Christ precise, plain, impressive. Christ’s language concrete. Modern preachers who specially aim at popularity usually seek it by avoiding doctrine, especially in its more profound and analytic forms. Our Saviour, as we have seen, as well as the humble preacher of Bedford, while preaching the doctrines, attained an unparalleled degree and permanence of popularity. How was this accomplished? The inquiry is a vital one. Upon its solution the ques- tion of the success of the Church in preaching the gospel to the world which lietli in wickedness depends. Now, if we look at the manner of the teaching of Christ, as we have already examined its matter, we shall observe, first, that the truth be uttered was spoken with precision, so that he was never obliged to retract or amend bis words. It was spoken, also, plainly, except in cases when he chose to give an esoteric cast to his lan- guage, in order to communicate to his disciples instructions which the multitude were not prepared to receive. Never w r as the apparatus of language so skil- fully used to bring the conclusions of metaphysical philosophy and the direct revela- tions of the heavenly Father within the reach of the humblest intellect. It was spoken impressively also. The words which he uttered were words of grace, of a rare and exceeding beauty — so that men “ wondered at the gracious words which proceeded out of his mouth.” They were concrete words. An abstract truth was seldom presented alone, but generally in its combination with some familiar, every-day object. The definition of neighbour is the story, “A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho.” Evil is tares; good is wheat. The great perplexing problem of the permission of sin is solved by an ordinary farmer in an ordinary opera- tion of agriculture. Instead of stating a philosophical problem and giving a philoso- phical solution, he turns to his hearers, and with a “ But what think ye?" he proceeds to tell a simple story, in which the principle he would teach is involved, and then leaves the conclusion to their own discernment, only adding the caution, “ He that hath ears to hear, let him hear.” But the great power of the preaching of Jesus was its personality. It struck home. Men felt that they were dealing with one who under- stood them. The Pharisees very often “ perceived that he spake of them.” Sometimes a more promiscuous crowd were struck by a penetrative .word as with a shock from an electric battery, and, “ being convicted by their own consciences, went out, one by one, beginning at the oldest, unto the last.” All his preaching showed that “ he knew what was in man.” This personality was not only seen in appeals to the conscience. He touched the heart also. He was full of human sympathies. It is true that his keen analysis delighted the perplexed intellect, and that his clear illus- trations made even “wayfaring” men, though fools in ignorance, exult in the pos- session of some grand truth which prophets and wise men had desired to see, but had not seen it. But it was his love, or to express the thought more pre- cisely, it was his broad, sympathetic humanity, that chiefly made great v ' ^ multitudes follow him in the city and upon the mountain, across the sea and into the wilderness, held by a spell which they could hardly have defined, and yet were unable to resist. The word humanity is used rather than the word love, in this connection, because something more is meant than a simple feeling of tenderness or a desire to promote happiness. The word is used to designate sympathy with all human Christ’s personal. 8 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. emotion and aspiration, as well as with men’s modes of thought and habits of life. It is the sentiment described by the heathen poet when he said: “I am human, and nothing which is human is foreign to me.” Jesus showed himself a man under all circum- stances. He was tempted at all points as man is, and knew how to succour tempted man. There was nothing regal or priestly or even sombre about him. The tradi- tional assertion, “Our Saviour wept, but was never known to smile,” has more an- tiquity than authenticity. ITe certainly never betrays any anxiety about his dignity. He shows the most intense hatred of formality and of all the requirements of religious etiquette. He can hardly conceal his contempt for the ecclesiastical martinets who sought to stone him because he had made a man every whit whole on the Sabbath day. He taught that the Sabbath, and so all God’s institutions, was made for man, whom God made, and as God made him. He preached a gospel which was antagonistic to sin in man, but not antagonistic to man. His teaching and his life were full of this beautiful and sympathetic humanity. Men instinctively felt that Jesus was their fellow, a man indeed absolutely pure, and a being in some relations infinitely more than man, but in his human relations a being on their level. While he sometimes drew from them the adoring exclamation, “My Lord and my God!” at other times they hesi- tated not to ask querulously, “Lord, carest thou not that we perish?” while provident Martha, in the very tenderest mood of grief, reproached him, with the familiarity of a sister, in the words, “Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.” The scenes at the blessing of the children, at the grave of Lazarus, at the summary ejection of the money-changers from the temple, are only excerpts from a life of intense sympathy with all that is human in man. He was a stranger only to the sin of man, alienated only from the progeny of evil in the soul — the works of those who are of their father the devil, and who do his deeds. This broad, deep humanity, tinging all the language of his teaching and interpene- trating its very substance, seemed, when he spoke, to envelop speaker and hearers in one comprehensive, magnetic atmosphere, and made their hearts beat together as one, till the very life of Christ was communicated to those around him, and an all-enveloping sympathy — which was more than a sympathy, which was a substance, unseen and ethe- real, but potential and pervading — made the vastest multitude one intellectual and moral being, thinking, feeling, moving with the one master spirit. It is no wonder they were astonished at his power over them, or that his bitterest enemies were compelled to exclaim, “Never man spake like this man.” A discriminating and thorough analysis of the teaching and oratory The sam^elements 0 £ t j ie great masters of eloquence will show that, in various propor- of power in all pop- , . . , . ! orators tions, the elements ot power now enumerated have been present m their speech and writings. It will also be found that this power has been just in proportion to the perfection they had attained in these various essentials of true eloquence. There may be profound thought which is yet not precise and clear, and the result will be only bewilderment in the hearer. There may be clear thought which is not profound or original or forcible, and the result will be, at the best, only a patient approval of what is to the audience a very dull discourse. Or the thought may be both clear and profound, while the words are anything but “ gracious words.” The rhetoric may be rough or pedantic, or suggestive of disagreeable associations, or flighty with pretti nesses or rotund with bombast. Or the composition may be faultless in thought and expres- sion, and yet may be so abstract in form that the common people will be far from hear- ing it gladly, while even the philosopher will experience a stir of the thoughts rather INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. 1) than a quickening of the conscience or a marshalling of the purposes to right action. Or the preacher may have the clearness of Addison, the profundity of Plato, the beautiful diction of Vaughn, and the concreteness of Dean Swift, all combined, yet, if he be not interpenetrated with humanity and surrounded with it as an atmosphere, he will never do wluit Luther did, nor what Whitefield did, nor what Banyan did, nor, even at a dis- tant approximation, what Christ did. Perhaps this analysis of manner in the successful religious teacher will guide us to the secret, in part at least, of Banyan’s great and e 1 jo over men> continued influence over all classes of men while teaching the whole circle of Christian doctrine. Ill the first place, then, every reader of Banyan must have observed the precision and clearness of his style and thought. The reader is never compelled to go over a sentence the second time. The impression it makes upon r| <'-"'ne.ss of Bun- ° i * r yans style, his mind is clear, well-cut, and immediate. Occasionally he comes upon a sentence whose quaintness gives him a moment’s pause, as when Faithful com- mences his defence before the court at Vanity Fair in this way: “ That he had only set himself against that which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest.” But the delay reveals to him a pith and richness of meaning which will be likely to make him linger upon the sentence till it is indelibly printed upon his memory. Generally, however, the thought of the author is seized at once. The impression upon the imagina- tion and feelings is not impaired by even the least perplexity of the intellect. Each sen- tence is a nail fastened in a sure place. The suggestion that Banyan is a profound writer will hardly, how- ever, be so readily assented to. Certainly, if our idea of profundity in a writer is that he shall be shadowy and unintelligible, or that he shall be abstract, or that he shall wander into the regions of the unknown and the un- knowable, then Bunyan is not profound. Banyan is no Ralph Waldo Emerson. He is no German philosopher turned into a mere ghost of a man by the excessive subjectivity of his speculations. He is no propoundcr of theories concerning matters which no theory can explain. The theologians of all the evangelical schools accept the Pilgrim’s Prog- ress. It does not even enter their ancient battle-grounds. But if to be profound is to go to the bottom of the subject in hand, if it is to follow with a sharp analysis the dividing line between things that differ, if it is to search every element that enters into a just and safe conclusion, then Bunyan is profound. The way of life is the subject of the Bible. To point out that way a certain number of facts and truths are considered necessary by Infinite Wisdom. These, when arranged systematically and discriminated from error, constitute our systems of theology. The way of life is also the subject of Banyan’s allegories. It would be a curious experiment should some constructive mind attempt to draw from them a system of underlying doctrine, as theologians have done from the Bible. If nothing were omitted which Bunyan uses, if all his qualifica- tions were noted and all perversions guarded against, there can be little doubt that a very complete body of divinity would be the result. It is this peculiarity which is the basis of Bunyan’s strength. The reader is gaining truth — the food of the soul — in every line. That Bunyan has the next requisite of a popular style is evident. No reader doubts that he uses concrete rather than abstract terms, Bun} an s st% Ie concrete. or, more precisely, that he individualizes rather than generalizes his ideas. He invests the most abstract qualities with all the charm of a personal iudivid- Bunyan’s system of theology. 10 INTRODUCTION TO TIIE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. uality. He turns a doctrine into an exciting adventure. He converts great moral facts into solid existences, as a mountain, a burden on the back, a man in a cage, a giant’s castle, a celestial city. In this he closely follows the Bible, and never fails to appropri- ate its imagery when it is possible to do so. There is nothing in Shakespeare more per- fect than the impersonations of Obstinate and Pliable in the very beginning of his storv. The description of Vanity Fail’, its streets, its rulers, its citizens, and its doings, makes a group which the painter could transfer almost unchanged from the paper to the canvas. In the Holy War the generalizations of mental philosophy in all their multitude rise before us in the form of walls and gates and magistrates and armies, as if “spirits from the vasty deep” had suddenly taken to themselves form and solidity, and were lifting their huge proportions all around us. What a study is his nomencla- ture alone! Who but Bunyan would have concocted such a catalogue as this of the court at Vanity Fair? Judge, My Lord Hate-good. Witnesses, Envy, Superstition, and Pick-thank. The Prince of the Realm, Beelzebub. The Nobility, Lord Oldman, Lord Carnal-delight Lord Luxurious, Lord Desire-of- vain-glory, Lord Lechery, Sir Having-greedy. The statutes are acts come down from Pharaoh, Darius, and Nebuchadnezzar! The roll of the Jury puts a fitting climax upon this pyramid of personification: Mr. Blindman, the foreman, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-locse, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, Mr. Im- placable ! Defect of modern preachers. What an immense acquisition of power would come to many of the ablest preachers of our era if they could learn Bunyan’s art of giving to their airy abstractions “ a local habitation and a name,” not by descriptive appellations, but by descriptive impersonations ! The whole power of many preachers, otherwise of very inferior abilities and attainments, lies in the possession of this art. Let the philosopher and the scholar beware how they despise a gift which, however unnecessary within the walls of the university, is one. of the grand instrument- alities by which men are to be brought up from the East and the West and the North and the South to sit down together in the kingdom of God. Bunyan’s humanity. hu- broad Bunyan’s humanity, by which we mean, as before, a broad and deep sympathy with all that belongs to men, is another of tlie chief ele- ments of his power. He comes into contact with his readers at every point. He is so guileless, so frank, so fearless, so kindly, so keen, so witty, so intensely in earnest, that, before you are aware of it, he has thrown over you the spell of an en- chanter. No man ever attained more perfectly the divine art of drawing human beings “ with the cords of love and the bands of a man.” The element of humour plays a very important part in this attract- ive process — not less important because there is no oj)en expression of it. It would shock some persons to hear the intimation that our Saviour ever indulged in humour. But a fair analysis would readily detect something closely analogous to this fascinating quality in many passages, especially those of a con- troversial character. The repartees made to the ecclesiastical lawyers who attempted to “entangle him in his talk” had in them that sense of logical absurdity and that enjoy- ment of deserved personal discomfiture which are important elements in the higher grades of humour. The scene at Gadara, when the devils were taken at their word and sent into a herd of swine, is essentially ludicrous, and may have been intended to match the Bunyan’s mour. INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN 11 r IN YAK. II malignant design of these rampant spirits, of drawing Jesus into trouble with the OtuU arene pork-merchants by bringing them and their boasted power into ridicule. Bunyan is full of humour, though he is too serious and earnest to wish to employ it except in his exposures of error and wickedness. What an exquisite bit of satire, for example, is the conversation with By-ends, just after Christian leaves Vanity Fair, “the parishioner of Mr. Two-tongues” and “the lineal descendant of a waterman who got his living by rowing one way and looking the other,” by which laudable occupation, remarks Mr. By-ends, “I got most of my estate.” The same keen quick perception of the incongruities and contradictions, which are the staple of all rhetorical retributions for f'ol ly and pretence, pervades all Bunyan’s works, and constantly draws toward him the peculiar sympathy which the story-teller and the wit are sure to awaken. Let not the Christian teacher who possesses this charming gift consider it only a misfortune and an impediment. Carefully employed, it will bring him, more quickly than any other, into a magnetic sympathy with men. The most violent prejudices against an orator or his cause may often be dispelled by a few pleasantries. Wit can give even to logic a finer edge and a sharper point. Hu- mour may play over the surface of the most serious discourse, as heat-lightning over the moonless sky, not obtrusively, yet lighting all the firmament of thought with a be- witching iridescence. Every page of Bunyan’s allegories, and every verse of his quaint but rude poetry, wavers in this magnetic atmosphere of humour. What, for example, could be more suppressed, and yet effective, than the sly sarcasm of the lines in which he describes the reception of his Pilgrim’s Progress by his immediate friends? “ Then I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. For having now my method by the end, Still as I pulled, it came: and so I penned It down ; until it came at last to be, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. “ Well, when I had thus put my ends together, I showed them others, that I might see whether They would condemn them, or them justify ; And some said, ‘Let them live;’ some, ‘Let them die;’ Some said, ‘ John, print it ;’ others said, ‘ Not so ;’ Some said it might do good ; others said, ‘No.’” Closely connected with this quality of humour in Bunyan was that . peculiar compound of self-forgetfulness and truthfulness which for want of an English name we have agreed to term naivete. This charming quality, which opens men’s hearts like the pressing of a secret spring in the iron door of a money- vault, is conspicuous not only in the quotations just given, but in almost every sentence Bunyan wrote. We feel at home as soon as we begin to read. In a very few minutes we are on such terms of intimacy with the author that, while we are conscious of his access to the most secret places of our hearts, we feel that we have a free entrance to his also. If Bunyan preached as he wrote, as he undoubtedly did, he must in his very first sen- tence have introduced himself to his hearers and drawn them into the sphere of his per- sonal life. Edward Everett, when once asked how he gained the sympathy of a strange audience in a strange place so uniformly and quickly, replied, “ I always search out some historical incident or some local association, through which I ingratiate myself with the people I am to address.” Without egotism, certainly without vanity, but with a sell- 12 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. Bunyan’s rich im agination. forgetful ingenuousness that goes out in sympathy and confidence toward others, and loves to make them sharers of his thoughts and hopes and joys, the preacher who partakes of the spirit of Bunyan will envelop his audience with the atmosphere of his own personal- ity. He will lay his heart upon the heart of each hearer till their beating is in unison. Another element of this quality, which we have termed the human- ity of Bunyan, is imaginative in its character. It is a part of our humanity to love analogies. It impresses us much more to be told “ God is a rock ” than to be assured, in literal phrase, “ God is firm and strong.” A whole treatise upon conviction of sin cannot move us as does the picture of the Slough of Despond, in which Pliable appears crawling out upon one side and Christian catching the hand of Help on the other. The machinery of these allegories is certainly not elab- orate. On the contrary, it is very simple, if not rude. Yet it may well be doubted whether the most exquisite impersonations of Shakespeare or the grandest fancies of Mil- ton really make so strong and permanent an impression upon us as the story of the town of Mansoul, with its walls and its gates, its magistrates, its sovereigns, and its wars. Few have ever looked on the picture of the laud of Beulah, and the passage of the Pilgrims to the Celestial City, without experiencing a glow of emotion such as even the masters of romance and song have seldom been able to inspire. The language of imagination was natural to Bunyan, as it was to our Saviour. He was writing another book, supposed to be “The Heavenly Footman,” when, as he tells us, “before I was aware, I thus began,” and the result was — The Pilgrim's Progress ! “And thus it was: I, writing of the way And race of saints in this our gospel day, Fell suddenly into an allegory, About their journey and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down. This done, I twenty more had in my crown ; And they again began to multiply Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.” Such labour is play, and such play of the finest faculties of the mind of man is power. No culture is complete which fails first to develop, then to regulate, the imagination, and no man is the full possessor of the “humanity” now under discussion who js not master of the “ humanities ” by which it is trained and strengthened. In enumerating the various elements of Bunyan’s power over men Bunvan’s pathos. , .. , n , 7 we must not omit the mention or pathos. We have already spoken of sympathy with our common humanity on the side of its fancy, in its love of frankness, and in its appreciation of wit. But the human heart has a tender side also. Tears lurk close to smiles and fun frolics in the very arms of sadness. The heart-stricken Cowper wrote “John Gilpin” out of the depths of a troubled spirit. Gough, the orator of the heart, gives the warning, “ If you have tears, prepare to shed them now,” by a side-splitting joke, close upon which follows a picture of the drunkard’s wife and babes, the home laid desolate, the generous, loving, heart made fiendish by drink, which has the force of a thousand arguments to convince and persuade. The preacher of the Gospel handles themes full of the tenderest pathos. Love is the subject of the Gospel. Tenderness is its essential spirit. Ministration to the dis- eases and sorrows of the human heart is its chief work. We plead for no sickly, cer- tainly no sanctimonious, pathos. But when a man like Bunyan, full of vigour, with no vaporish humours, alive to all pleasant fancies and all generous wit, tells us of his INTRODUCTION TO TllE COMPLETE WORKS OE JOHN IIUNYAN 13 own protracted in on till sufferings, or pictures those scenes of gentleness which especially abound in the narrative of Christiana and her children, lie takes our hearts captive. We are clay in Ids hands. lie moulds us as lie will. This broad humanity in Banyan is manifested still further in his Bunynn'a ready sympathy. ready sympathy in all the forms of human feeling. It is especially conspicuous in his charity of spirit, which even his twelve years of imprisonment could not disturb so as to call out one sharp or bitter word toward his enendes. It is manifested in that infectious enthusiasm which is a nnme element of power in every successful career, and which com- J 1 r .... siasin. nninicates to ordinary men an inspiration of hope and courage and strength such as puts its author almost in the place of a deity among his followers. It is the combination of these and kindred qualities in Bunyan, constituting a broad, generous, well -developed humanity, which seems to have been the source of that peculiar magnetism which is so perceptible in his writings, and which must have been still more fully felt in his personal presence. Cause of the pop- ularity of sensa- tional preachers. If our analysis is correct, and if this magnetic humanity is one great source of the power which attained such development in Bunvan, and Th .‘ s broa< * , Iu ‘~ \ ... 1 - manity essential to which is seen in absolute perfection in Him who, five days before his success, crucifixion, could fill Jerusalem and even the very courts of the Tem- ple with the hosannas of the populace, then every preacher of the gospel, whether by tongue or pen, should give to its culture the most assiduous study. It is not to be denied that a class of men who have none of the higher qualities we have named, who, unlike Bunyan, have little or no real instruction to give, who sneer at “theology” because they know nothing about it, and who are held in deserved contemjpt by scholarly men, are notwithstanding getting and retaining the ear of the busy, mercurial, quick- witted American people, not by any means on account of their emptiness, but wholly in spite of it, and yet are wielding an amount of influence over public opinion and character which is undoubtedly preparing the way, first, for loose doctrine, then for false doctrine, and at last for a complete apostasy from Christ, both in opinion and life. The secret of the power of these preachers is to he found in their intense sympathy with men, and in the numerous points of contact with their audiences at which that sympathy is evolved. It is simple slander upon the people to say, as is often done, that they do not love thought. All men love thought, but they love something else better. They love a man better than they love his thoughts. He who shows himself to be a man, highly developed in all the characteristics of a man as God made him, will be more to them than the greatest philosopher or the profoundest theologian. “ And I,” says our Saviour — noi my doctrine, not my law, but I — “if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men unto me.” What the people want. RUNYAN’S WORKS A TRANSCRIPT OF HIS OWN EXPERIENCE. It still remains that another and a far more important secret of Bunyan’s success should be mentioned. He wrote what he had himself experienced. His “ Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners” is the “Pilgrim’s Progress” and the “Holy War” in a subjective form. It is easy to trace, in this account of his personal experience, the original of all the chief scenes of his allegories. Here is the Slough of Despond, and a miry place it was to poor Bunyan. The Interpreter’s House stood hard by his home. The fight with Apollyon was a real one. Vanity Fair and its courts were a transcript of the society 14 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN BUN Y AN. and government of the times in England. Some of the characters can even now he traced to the living men around him, and in Bunyan’s day a large number must have been capable of identification. Without the terrible spiritual experience of Bunyan and his protracted sufferings, these immortal productions would have been impossible. The seed of the plentiful har- vest which they have brought into the kingdom of God was sown in anguish and tears. The force of this personal experience threw, often into a single sentence, the results of a lifetime of intense thought. It focalized under the eye of the reader the concentrated vitality of Bunyan’s whole physical, intellectual and spiritual energies for long years. Here is the power of these works in one of its chief elements. While all the auxiliaries which we have named, of defined doctrine, of clear speech, of beauty in expression, of cor- rectness in conception, of personal application, of a large humanity in its humour, in its frankness, in its fancy, in its pathos, in its sympathy, in its charity, and in its inspiring enthusiasm, were present, yet none of them were present in such an eminent degree as to place the author where he is — in the very front rank of literature. In fact, the critic often feels that there is a deficiency in these particulars which suggests somewhat pain- fully the idea of poverty in literary resources. Still, he is conscious of power. He feels that the author has reached the end of writing, while he seems deficient in the qualities by which that end is ordinarily gained. Like the famous sentence of Massillon at the commencement of his sermon on the death of the Duchess of Orleans, “ God only is great !” — which simple words caused a vast assembly to bow their heads in worship and awe — the words of Bunyan seem possessed of a power of which no critical account can be given. The explanation is, in part at least, that these words were forged upon the anvil of experience, and were ejected with the concentrated momentum of years of emotion and thought. So it has been with all great orators. The finest similes of Daniel Webster were not wrought out at the moment when they leaped, as if unbidden, from his lips. They were the fruit of hours of elevated communion with nature and with truth, and when they were uttered they were a lightning-stroke, because the massed electricity of vast hidden regions of lofty emotion found vent in them. Very simple were the words of Whitefield. The rudest collier among his audiences could have uttered them as easily as he. Yet when he raised his hands and exclaimed, “Oh the wonderful love of Christ!” vast assem- blies were bathed in tears, because these words, when uttered by Whitefield, meant vastly more than when uttered by an ordinary man. „ , Napoleon’s charge at Lodi carried his troops victorious over bat- JSapoleon. . „ teries which had mowed down the columns of every other French general, because at the moment his whole military history was brought to the minds both of friend and foe, and the united force of a hundred battle-fields swept over the bridge of fire. The great chief himself recognized this principle of cumulation when he said to his army in Egypt, “From the summit of those pyramids forty centuries look down upon you.” The deeds witnessed by those mute sentinels of history, during two-thirds of the world’s life, commingled with the deeds of to-day, and every blow of the modern army gathered into itself the combined energies of ages of heroism. The words, as well as the deeds, of power which have moved the world have evei been the voice of the accumulated experience of generations. So the words by which one individual moves another must be the voice of accumulated personal experience. _ Our Saviour penetrated in an instant the hearts of all about him. Our Saviour. r not only because he knew man, but because he had been tried as man All real eloquence springs from per- sonal experience. Webster. Whitefield. INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. 15 if>. IIo paints heaven and the glory of his Father, he describes hell in language of four- fill power, because ho speaks that which he knows and testifies that which he bus seen John could not be commissioned to write the Apocalypse of the future until he had been shown, amid the dark mountains of the isle of Patinos, the actual vision of the supernatural world. Even Paul could not be entrusted with his great message until ho had been caught up in the third heaven and heard that “ which it is not lawful for man to utter.” In ordinary speech, the words of an eye-witness, though they are the same words, arc always uttered with a zest which the manufactured utterances of a mere in- vestigator can never acquire. Bunyan’s rude and unfinished word-pictures stand before us in the J . i-iii Bunyan. warm colours and sharp outlines which belong to acts rather than repre- sentations. We do not read a biography. We see a life. Hence we are moved by Bun- yan’s words as by a cry of agony or a shout of joy uttered at our side. We are in no mood to criticise the artistic execution, as if a dramatist were exhibiting before us. Here is living suffering and actual happiness. A human heart is uttering itself, not a musi- cal tone or an elocutionary inflection. This is the power of reality. All the rules of mere representation here fail of application. The preacher who speaks out his own experience has a power which transcends all the canons of art. Art will unquestionably add to this power and bring it to a polished perfection, but it will not create it. The preacher who moves men must learn to say, not only “ Thou art the man,” but also, “ I am the man.” The former without the latter, will be scolding, not preaching. It may be vei-y faithful and very just, but men will grow worse under it rather than better. The latter without the former is simply the egoistic form of the sensational style. It is the insufferable personality of a coarse, vain man thrust between his hearers and the truth. But the two, united as they were in Bunyan, cry to men to escape the city of Destruction, where / lived ; to roll off their bur- dens at the cross, where I found pardon ; to avoid Doubting Castle, where I was ensnared ; to resist the Devil, with whom I contended in the Valley of Humiliation ; to eschew the allurements of Vanity Fair, which / have seen to “ bite like a serpent and sting like an adder;” to seek the instruction and delights of the Delectable Mountains, where 1 have drunk of the river of God’s pleasures. There is a sense in which the true preacher can say, “ We preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus, the Lord.” There is another sense in which he can say, “ We preach our- selves as your servants, for Jesus’ sake.” BUNYAN’S THOUGHTS AN INSPIRATION FROM GOD. We shall detain the reader only to call attention to one more element of Bunyan’s power. He was a man in constant communion with God. His spiritual autobiography is not needed to assure us of this fact. All his writings bear testimony to it. Such a fact is of course beyond the scope of ordinary literary criticism. The power of the men who have received from God “ a mouth and a wisdom which all their adversaries are not able to gainsay or resist ” is a mystery to the critics of the Schools. They find in it only a new proof of the superstition of the ignorant masses, who can be so moved without any apparent cause. But in this case, as in others, the foolishness of God is wiser than men. One divine word, though it be ever so simple, is mighty to the pulling down of the strongest holds. The man who utters that divine word possesses, it may be, not elo- quence, not learning, not logic, not any of the ordinary forces of the orator, but he has inspiration. In the highest spiritual sense, “the inspiration of the Almighty hath given him understanding,” and with understanding comes power. 16 INTRODUCTION TO THE COMPLETE WORKS OF JOHN RUNYAN. * In using the word inspiration we have restricted it to thought- in- Lion and word-in- s P iratl0n - Jrore^mspiration is confined to the superintendence of the spiration. Spirit over those who spake “not in the words which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth.” In the Holy Scrip- tures both the thoughts and the language, so far as necessary, were directed from on high. “Expressing things taught by the Spirit, in language taught by the Spirit,” is probably the idea intended in the words, “Comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” But there is no evidence that in our times any aid is given to utterance, except as it is given through the thoughts, emotions and purposes which are created by the present Spirit in the soul. That form of inspiration is still the privilege of every man who has become united with God. The original union of man with his Maker is a union of nature — a union which has been broken by sin. But the union of the “new creature” with the Creator is a union of thought, affection and purpose. The soul experiences the modicum of truth which is contained in the heathen idea of absorption into the deity. “ It returns into the bosom of Divinity,” not to lose its conscious existence, but to become more active amid divine ac- tivities, to become more loving with Him “ who first loved us,” to energize its will-power by blending it with the will of God. Just in proportion to the perfection of this union does the restored wanderer become “a partaker of the Divine nature;” just in that proportion he can say, “I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me;” and just in that proportion does it remain true, as of old, that it is given him, at the hour of need, what he ought to speak. The particular words will indeed be modified by the habit.s and taste of the speaker. Here comes in the need and the duty of per- ReUtion of cul- gona j cu it ure . But the thought or emotion will issue defined and ture to inspiration. . “ strong and glowing from the mind of God. In a real, in the most important, sense, the words of the man of prayer are the words of God. The inspiration of thoughts is a higher inspiration than that of words. The one im- plies union with God in character and by constant communion. The other may be granted to a Balaam who “loved the wages of unrighteousness.” The inspiration of Bunyan is the inspiration of a man who had become “the temple of the living God.” When this fact is fully comprehended, it ceases to be a mystery that none of his adversaries were able to resist the wisdom and power with which he spake. All the other sources of strength which we have enumerated sink into insignificance when compared with this. Let this unquestionable fact be a rebuke to the men of ambition who trust mainly in the arts of popularity or in the forces of learning and culture, and convert their pulpits, the one into an actor’s stage, the other into a professor’s chair. Let it be for the en- couragement and joy of every man of faith who puts forth all his powers, however hum- ble they may be, in close and constant sympathy with God. Bunyan, like the woman who anointed the Saviour’s feet, has done deeds by the sim- ple power of faith which shall be told for a memorial of him wherever this gospel shall be preached throughout the whole world. By the same faith may every man become a chosen vessel to bear the name of Christ to the perishing millions of earth ! “ When one who holds communion with the skies Has filled his urn where these pure waters rise, And once more mingles with us meaner things, ’Tis e’en as if an angel shook his wings 1 Ambrosial fragrance fills the circuit wide, That tells us whence his treasures are supplied /” 4 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 juch 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 in this our gospel -day, Fell suddenly into an allegory About their journey and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down ; This done, I twenty more had in my crown ; And they again began to multiply, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I’ll put you by yourselves, lest you at last Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that I already am about. Chr. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the city of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may he delivered from the wrath to come. I would, therefore, sir, since I am informed that by this gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in. Goodwill. “ I am willing, with all my heart,” said he. And with that he opened the gate. So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. Then said Christian, “ What means that?” The other told him, “A little distance from this gate there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the captain : from Till I came hither : what a place is this ! Mnst here bo the beginning of my bliss ? CONTENTS Grace abounding (o the Chief of Sinners , in a Faithful Account of the Life and Death of John Bunyan ; corrected and much enlarged by the author, for the benefit of the Templed and Dejected Christian. An address to Ills spiritual children. His low origin by birth. Hip ungodly childhood. Fears of future ret ribution. Intense dislike of religious things. Still, Is greatly shocked at the sight of gross sin in professed Christians. His narrow escape from death. His wife and her marriage portion — a re- ligious book and the memory of her godly father. His superstitious reverence for priests and their vestments. Is troubled because he is not a Jew. Hears a sermon on sabbath-breaking. Convicted while playing a game of “Cat.” Reproved by a woman for swearing, and breaks it otf. Reforms generally, and is well pleased with himself. His bell-ringing and dancing. Still ignorant of Christ. The humble Christian women of Bedford, and their talk. He discovers his false position. A profligate friend. The sect of “ Ranters.” Relig- ious people drawn away by them into open sin. He begins to understand Paul's Epistles, and to see that faith on the part of man is the condi- tion of all blessings from God. Proposes to test his faith by working a miracle. Remembers the poor women of Bedford. They are seen in his im- agination to occupy the bright side of a mountain, while he is in the dark and frost. A great wall is between them, with a narrow opening, through which he vainly strives to enter. Is troubled with the doctrine of election, but is comforted by learn- ing that none are elected to be lost but those who will not believe. Searches a year for a special passage of Scripture, and finds it at last in the Apocrypha. Then is troubled lest he has put off believing too long, but is comforted by the words, “And yet there is room.” Tempted to go back into sin, but is restrained by fear. Fanciful sym- bols interest him. Longs for a special call into the kingdom. Love for the elect Pages 27-3S Is instructed by Rev. Mr. Gilford of Bedford, prob- ably the “Evangelist” of “Pilgrim’s Progress.” Vivid experiences and sharp temptations. Fears he has committed the unpardonable sin. After a long and fearful struggle he looks away from himself and his own character to Christ, and for a twelvemonth is fully in the peace of God.. ..38-60 His prayer for his wife, and the answer. His trials in uniting with the visible Church. New tempta- tions at a time of bodily weakness. The final ' triumph 60-63 A Brief Account of the Author's Call to the Work of the Ministry. Is urged to exhort, then to attend meetings in the country. Finds men awakened and converted. 2 Preaches the terrors of the Lord as he himself fell them. Then preaches aesus Christ in all his offices, ns he had discovered the plan of salva- tion. Then, having learned the mystery of the union of the believing soul to Christ, he preaches that truth. This continues five years, till he is cast into prison, to bear testimony by suffering twice as long ns he had by preaching. His expe- riences and trials in the ministry Pages 61-69 A Brief Account of the Author's Imprisonment. Is arrested for holding unlawful assemblages and conventicles, and lies in jail twelve years. The trial of parting from his wife and children. His spiritual experiences in prison 70-73 A Continuation of Mr. Banyan's Life; beginning where he left off, and concluding with the Time and Manner of his Death and Burial ; together with his True Character, &c. He is released from prison by the good offices of Dr. Barlow, bishop of Lincoln. He continues his labors as before, notwithstanding the law which was still in force. Takes advantage of the law giving liberty of conscience, though he pene- trates its evil design. Builds a chapel in Bed- ford, which is thronged. His political teaching. Preaches often in London 7-1-76 Bunyan was converted in 16oo; was imprisoned November 12, I860; was released in 1666, but again imprisoned for six years, being arrested while preaching from the words, “Post thou believe on the Son of God?” He was again arrested and imprisoned for six months more. During the last year he was elected pastor of a church in Bedford. He never gave offence; never re- proached or reviled any. His family discipline. His last service. His sickness and death 76, 77 A Brief Character of Mr. John Bunyan. 78 Mr. John Banyan’s Dying Sayings. Of sin 79 Of affliction 79 Of repentance and coming to Christ- 79, SO Of prayer 80 Of the Lord's day, sermons, and week-days... SO Or the love of the world SO Of suffering SO, SI Of death aud judgment Si Of the joys of heaven SI Of the torments of hell $2 Postscript. By Robert Philip. His release. The deed of bis’ property. The cause of his death 82, S3 17 18 CONTENTS. The Pilgrim's Progress from this World, lo that which ■is to Come , delivered under the Similitude of a Dream. In two parts. Part I. The Author’s Apology {ire verse). Unpremedi- tated beginning of the allegory. Various opin- ions of it among the author’s friends. Defence of the allegory as a mode of religious teaching, by three arguments. The benefits of the work to the careful reader ; Pages 85-87 Chap. I. The “den” where the book was written. Christian's home and family in the City of De- struction. Evangelist. Office of fear in the com- mencement of a religious life 88, 89 Chap. II. The period of conviction and inquiry.— His neighbors Obstinate and Pliable, and their characteristic talk and adventures. The Slough of Despond. Many are called, but few are chosen. 89-92 Chap. III. Justification by faith and by works. — Mr. Worldly-wiseman and his preaching. Clnistian tries to be saved by becoming good. Mr. Legality, and Mount Sinai. Evangelist again 93-96 Chap. IV. The act of conversion. — Christian enters the wicket-gate through faith in the directions of Evangelist, but is without the assurance of forgiveness until he sees the cross of Christ. Good-will the gate-keeper 97-99 Chap. V. The teachings of the Spirit. — The Interpre- ter’s house. The grave person. The dusty room. Passion and Patience. The oil of grace. The vic- tor’s courage and reward. The apostate profes- sor. The vision of the judgment day 99-103 Chap. VI. Faith before the cross. —Christian gets rid of his burden. The full joy of the convert. The robe, tlie mark, and the sealed roll. Christ’s righteousness, the witness of the Spirit, and the assurance of the promises 1U4 Chap. VII. Early Christian experience. — Simple, Sloth, and Presumption asleep. Formalist and Hypocrisy propound their theories of salvation. The hill Difficulty reached, Christian goes up. Tlie ritualists attempt to go around it, and perish. Christian sleeps in the arbour, halfway up, and loses his roll. He gains the top of tlie hill, and hears of lions in the way. Mistrust and Tim- orous. Having lost the promises, Christian is full of fear and anguish. Returns for his roll, and regains the top of the hill at nightfall. 105-108 Chap. VIII. He unites with the visible Church.— The palace Beautiful. The lions lie at the entrance. They are found to be chained, and incapable of mischief. The Porter questions him concerning the lateness of his arrival. Discretion farther interrogates him, when Piety, Prudence, and Charity are appointed to examine him fully as to his experience. The Lord’s Supper, and the discourse at the table. He lodges in tlie chamber called Peace, which be terms the “next door to heaven.” The second day he is taught the life of Christ, and the history of his Church. He is shown the armour of God prepared for an innu- merable number of future pilgrims, and also tlie weapons of ancient heroes. The third day lie has a view of tlie Delectable Mountains, where pilgrims receive on earth an antepast of heaven, and whence tlie gate of the Celestial City is dis- tinctly seen 109-114 Chap. IX. Tlie ministers of the Church now har- ness Christian with an armour of proof, and he goes on his pilgrimage again. They carefully conduct him down into the Valley of Humilia- tion. His desnerate fight witli the fiend Apol- lyon. He comes to the Valley of the Shadow of Death Pages ill-118 Chap. X. tie meets two renegades, who bring an evil report of the way. He passes through the valley in the night. At the farther end he comes upon tlie cave of the giants Pope and Pagan. 118-120 Chap. XI. Fellowship within the Church . — Christian overtakes Faithful, and, getting the start of him, falls down. Faithful helps him up, and gives him tlie news from their native city since he left it. Pliable’s reputation after he turned back. Faithful’s encounter with Wanton. Adam tlie First and li is three daughters. Faithful is at- tacked by Moses, and rescued by Christ. He passes by tlie palace Beautiful in his haste to press on. Christian regrets that he did so, and thinks he lost much good by neglecting to join tlie visible Church. Meets Discontent and Shame. 121-125 Chap. XII. Intercourse with empty professors in the Church. — Tlie wonderful eloquence and ortho- doxy of Talkative. Faithful is fascinated by him; Christian exposes him. Faithful then probes him by avoiding discussion and talking of “ heart- work.” Talkative departs disgusted. 125-130 Chap. XIII. The martyr trial. — Their former pas- tor and teacher, Evangelist, meets them. Their joy. He warns them of coming persecutions. The city of Vanity Fair. Its history. The way to the Celestial City lies through the middle of it. The people deride tlieir pilgrim garb, their dialect, and their contempt of the wares of tlie place. A great hubbub. They are arrested, and put into a cage. They are beaten, led through the streets in chains, and put. into the stocks. Their trial. Faithful is burned at the stake. Christian escapes, and goes on his way 131-13G Chap. XIV. Expediency in religion. — Christian lias a new companion in Hopeful, a citizen of Vanity Fair, converted by the martyrdom of Faithful. They encounter Mr. By-ends, who defends the practice of prudence by pilgrims that they may keep out of trouble. They refuse his company. Mr. Hold-tlie-world, Mr. Money-love, and Mr. Save-all appear, who succeed in proving, to the full satisfaction of Mr. By-ends, that a man may use a Christian profession as a means of making money. They put the point to Christian, who shows that their doctrine is heathenish, hypo- critical, and devilish. The pilgrims leave them again, and cross the plain Ease. Demas, and his silver-mine. By-ends and his friends enter, and perish in the pit. The monument of Lot’s wife hard by ; 137—142 Chap. XV. Wanderings from the way. — The river of God and its delights. The way beyond it rough. They turn into By-path Meadow. Vain-confl- dence, and his fate. Captured by Giant Despair Thrown intoa dungeon. Cruelly beaten. Tempted to suicide. Christian remembers tlie key called Promise in his bosom, by which they escape. The monument of warning 142-147 Chap. XVI. Visions of eternity.— The fate of false professors at the hill Error, the mountain Cau- tion, and the by-way to Hell. Tlie gate of the Celestial City seen through the shepherds’ glass, lint, dimly from tlieir want of skill. The shep- herds warn them to beware of tlie Flatterer and of sleeping on the Enchanted Ground, and give them a note of the way. Bunyan awakes, and for a time loses sight of his pilgrims 147-149 CONTENTS. 19 Chap. XVIL Omfiict.i and dangers. — When the dream Is resumed the pilgrims lire lit the open- ing of a crooked lnno that came down from the land of Conceit, through which Ignorance enters the path. A dark lane. A man bound and borne by seven devils to the Hypocrites' gate to the pit. Mr. lilttle-futth and the robbers. Faint-heart, Mistrust anil Clullt. The King's champion, U rent- grace. Sharp debate between Christian and Hopeful. A black man clad In white entices them from the way, and springs a net over them. A shining one delivers them and chastises them. Pai/cs 150-155 Chap. XVIII. A final examination of fundamental truths . — ' They meetaderlslve Atheist, and Inquire as to the truth of his assertions. They resist drowsiness upon tiie Enchanted Ground by re- viewing llie doctrine of Justification by faith. • 156—100 CHAP. XIX. The necessity of an intelligent faith . — A discourse with Ignorance, and an exposure of his follies. The office of fear in religion. The causes of backs I id i n g 160-1 65 Chap. XX. The final consummation. — From the Enchanted Ground they enter the land of Beulah. Tliis lleth upon the borders of heaven, in sight, of the Celestial City. Its beauties and its fruits. Two shining ones meet them. To their conster- nation, they are led to a river which separates them from the city. The shining ones assure them that they must go through it, and that only Enoch and Elijah had found any other way to the gate. They entel' the river. Hopeful is calm, but Christian Isalmostin despair. Tile discovery of Jesus reassures him, and they reach t lie far- ther bank, leaving their mortal garments in the river. A convoy of angels conducts them above tiie regions of the air to t lie gate. They present their credentials, and enter upon the joy of their Lord. Meanwhile, Ignorance crosses the river with ease, with the ai,d of a ferryman named Vain-liope. He ascends unattended to the gate and knocks for admittance. Having no creden- tials, he is rejected. Two shining ones are com- manded to bear him through the air to the gate of the pit. in tiie hill side. There they thrust him in. So there is a way to hell from the very gate of heaven 106-170 '/'he conclusion (in verse). The author’s caution to the reader 171 The Pilgrim's Progress ( Part IT.), wherein is set forth the Manner of the Selling out of Christian's Wife and Children; their dangerous Journey and Safe Arri- val at the Desired Country. Introduction. A colloquy (in verse) with the author's new book. He answers its objections to going out. into the world. He Instructs it how to introduce tiie various characters— Christiana, Mercy, Honest, Pearing, Pecble-mincl, Ready -to- halt, Vatiant-for-the-truth, Great-heart, Despond- ency, Much-afraid 173-175 Chap. I. The author lias occasion to visit tiie City of Destruction, and again falls asleep and dreams. Mr. Sagacity appears to him and relates the His- tory of the wife and children of Christian after his departure for tiie Celestial City. Christiana's conviction of sin. A visit, from one Secret, with a letter from the King inviting her to Hie Celes- tial City. The visits of hei neighbours. She and her children, with a maiden named Mercy, com- mence their pilgrimage 170-182 Chap. II. They warily cr<«s the Slough of Despond. Avoiding the doctrinal mistakes of Christian, they make no attempt to be saved Iry works of tiie law, hut proceed at once to the wicket-gate, where they arc alarmed by the barking of a dog. After much knocking, they are received, though Mercy taints from fear of rejection. ..Pages 183- 1 Hi Chap. III. They omit to ask at tiie gate for an es- cort, and In consequence are assaulted by two ill-favoured ones, and barely escape. Tiie boys eat forbidden fruit. Tiie teachings of the Spirit at the Interpreter's house. Diverse experiences of pilgrims 180-1H3 Chap. IV. The washing of regeneration and the sealing of the Spirit. The robe of Christ’s right- eousness brought forth. The pilgrims put it on. A pastor and guide granted them to attend them ill their journey 193-197 Chap. V. Tiie muddy teaching of unworthy min- isters, and how to make it clear. They attempt to enter tiie visible Church, but meet the lions, backed by a giant, who declares that they shall not enter. Mr. Great-heart, their guide, slays the giant, and they are admitted to tiie palace Beautiful with music and joy. Tiie boys are carefully catechised, and commended to tiie far- ther instructions of their mother, the works of nature, the Bible, and the Church 197-203 Chap. VI. Mercy lias a suitor, who, upon discover- ing that she leads a life of benevolence, retires in disgust. Matthew made ill by the fruit lie ate near tiie gate. Dr. Skill tries to cure him by re- ligious rites, and fails. He then gives him tiie flesh and blood of Christ — “ came el sanguine Christ i ” — and life returns to him. The boys re- ceive special instruction in the Church, and inspiriting visions are given to them all. Mr. Great-lieart returns to accompany them to their journey’s end. Christiana leaves her contribu- tion for the support of the Church with the Por- ter, and they commence their journey 2103-207 Chap. ATI. Their joys in tiie communion of the Church seem to lie uttered by tiie birds about them. Piety presents them with a scheme of the Church covenant, and creed. They go down into tiie Valley of Humiliation, tiie peculiarities of which are described. They see the place of Chris- tian's encounter with Apollyon, and tiie marks of the fight. They enter the Valley of Hie Shadow of Death. The proper use of spirituous liquors — as a medicine in an emergency, not as a beverage habitually. Satan appears in front, but vanishes, appears again as a lion in the rear, but retreats. Darkness falls upon tliem. They stand still and pray till it disappears. Samuel discovers' the difference between discipline and punishment. Snares. Mr. Great-heart has a dispute with Giant Maul, then a contest, and kills him '208-213 Chap. VIII. They find a hero — one Honest by name — “acock of the right kind.” The history of Mr. Fearing 213-213 Chap. IX. The history of Mr. Self-will, who held that a man might follow the vices as well as the virtues of pilgrims 218, 219 Chap. X. Tiie inn of Gains ‘‘mine host," and bis cordial welcome. The duty of Christians to be married and to raise up a godly seed. A speech on the behalf of woman, showing that though she listened to Satan in Eden, she was the mother of the Saviour. The supper at the inn, and its courses. . Gains exhorts them to “drink freely” of tiie “pure blood of the grape,” but says nothing in favour of a beverage which if used “freely” will produce the worst results 20 CONTENTS. Matthew and Gains fall into the common error of supposing that the forbidden fruit of Eden was the apple. The spiritual advantage of hav- ing to crack “hard nuts” of doctrine. An after- dinner riddle — how a man may give, and yet have ten times more Pages 219-222 Chap. XI. More riddles. The decays of nature in the aged not to be confounded with the triumphs of grace. An exercise in exegesis. They seek a contest with one Slay-good, a giant and a man- eater, and kill him. Mr. Feeble-mind rescued, and proves a man strong in faith. Not- right, his companion, killed by lightning. Matthew and Mercy are married; also James and Phebe, the daughter of Gaius 222-225 Chap. XII. They resume their journey. Mr. Feeble-mind proposes to go on alone, on account of various scruples and infirmities. Ready-to- halt joins him, and offers to lend him one of his crutches. Reminiscences. They reach- the city of Vanity, and lodge with Mr. Mnason of Cyprus. Religion grown respectable in Vanity Fair since the martyrdom of Faithful. The pilgrims re- main a long time at Vanity Fair. Mr. Mnason gives his daughter Grace to Samuel in marriage, and Martha to Joseph, the sons of Christiana. Roman Catholicism appears and slays many, carrying off their children to be nursed l>y its whelps. Great-heart and his friends attack and cripple the monster 225-229 Chap. XIII. They journey on slowly on account of the feebleness of the women and children. They enter the land described in the twenty- third Psalm, and are led “into green pastures and by the still waters.” The young mothers commit their infant children to One who prom- ises “to gather the lambs with his arms and carry them in his bosom.” Other provisions of this covenant with believing parents. Mr. Great- heart, Old Honest, and the four sons of Christi- ana kill Giant Despair and demolish his castle. They release Despondency and his daughter Much-afraid. The pilgrims rejoice over this vic- tory, and the cripple, Ready-to-halt, and Miss Much-afraid indulge in a dance on the occasion, which seems, unlike modern dancing, to have bad nothing lascivious or indecent about it. They arrive at the Delectable Mountains, and are wel- comed by the shepherds. They are shown the wonders of the place. Mercy receives the present of a wonderful mirror 229-234 Chap. XIV. They encounter another hero, one Mr. Valiant-for-truth st : ll covered with blood from a recent conflict. They arrive at the Enchanted Ground, where the weariness of the journey in- vites to fatal repose, the last danger of the Pil- grims. Mr. Standfast joins them, who describes the offers of Madam Bubble 234-210 Chap. XV. The Land of Beulah, the place of assured hope and constant peace. The summons comes to Christiana to cross the river. She con- fers with her pastor and takes leave of her com- panions. Convoys of angels attend her to the gate of the city. One after another, her compan- ions are summoned and enter upon the joy of their Lord 211-245 Christian Behaviour , being the Fruits of True Christi- anity ; teaching Husbands, Wives, Parents, Children, Masters, Servants, &c., how to Walk so as to please God ; xvith a Word of Direction to all Backsliders. The epistle to the Reader. The Author writes to show the relations of good works to faith, to apply the doctrine to particular classes, to pre- ’sentthe subject in a compact form, to bear his testimony to the power of faith to purify the heart, and to induce Christians to do well the special work assigned them Pages 247, 248 Proposition I. Good works do flow from faith : 1. They can have no other source. 2. Faith re- veals proportionately the truth which excites to good works. 3. Faith lays hold of the strength, of Christ, which enables the soul to practice good works. Objection. Why is it so hard for men of faith to practice good works? Answer. 1. Be- cause they are weak in faith. 2. Faith sets up so high a standard of good works that believers undervalue their own attainments 249-252 Proposition II. Every one that believeth should be careful that his works are good. Men have erred extensively both in works of doctrine and of worship. Tests of a good work: 1. It must have the word for Us authority. 2. It must flow from faith. 3. It must be rightly timed and placed. 4. It must be done cheerfully 252-254 Good works in the master of a family. — These must have respect to its spiritual and outward wel- fare. 1. He must rule it. 2. He must lead it to public worship. 3. He must call godly men into it. 4. He must attend to family devotions. 5. He must exclude ungodly books. In temporal things.— 1. He must obtain a liveli- hood for it. 2. He must be moderate in his labour. 3. He must insist upon harmony in the family, not suffering children to domineer over servants or over each other, counting a personal injury as slight, but an injury done to God of great impor- tance. In case of a believing wife, treat her as Christ his Church. In case of an unbelieving wife, with meekness instruct and recover her. Good works in parents. — To instruct and correct their children 254-257 Good works in masters. — Get servants that fear God if possible; or, if not, seek their conversion ; not overtasking them, nor threatening them, nor de- ceiving them, nor circumventing them 25S, 259 Good works in a wife. — 1. She should look upon her husband as her head. 2. She should be subject to him. 3. She should shun gossip, an idle tongue, not usurping authority over her hus- band, avoiding immodest and showy apparel. 4. Yet she is not to be a slave, but to be in author- ity next to her husband. All this to be especially observed toward an unbelieving husband, and still more toward a froward husband 259-261 Good works in children.— To honour their parents, to aid them to remember their love and care. 261-263 Good works in servants. — Faithfulness and obedi- ence toward believing, unbelieving, and froward masters 263, 264 Good works in neighbours. — To be upright, kind, meek, discountenancing sin in them, guarding the tongue, and a headstrong, obstinate way, and eschewing covetousness, are duties among neighbours 261-270 Solomon's Temple Spiritualized, or Gospel Light brought out of the Temple at Jerusalem, to let us more fully into the Glory of Nexv Testament Truths. Introduction 271-273 I. Where the temple was built 274 II. Who built the temple 274 III. How the temple was built 274 IV. Of what the temple was built 275 V. Who was to fell those trees and CONTENTS. 21 to dig those stones with which Solomon built the temple. Page 275 VI. In what condition the timber and stones where when brought to be laid In the building of the temple 271) VII. Of the foundation of the temple... 270 VIII. Of the rlehnoss of the stones which were laid for the founda- tion of the temple 277 IX. Which way the face or front of the temple stood 277 X. Of the courts of the temple... 278 XI. Of the great brazen altar that stood in the inner court of the temple 279 XII. Of the pillars that were before the porch of the temple 279 XIII. Of the height of these pillars that thus stood before the porch of the door of the temple 2S0 XIV. Of the chapiters of the pillars of the temple •• 2S0 XV. Of the pomegranates adjoined to these nets on the chapiters 2S1 XVI. Of the chains that were upon these pillars that stood before the temple 281 XVII. Of the lily-work which was upon the chapiters that were upon these pillars of the temple 282 XVIII. Of the fashion of the temple 282 XIX. Of the outward glory of tire temple. 283 XX. Of the porch of the temple 281 XXI. Of the ornaments of the porch of the temple 281 XXII. Of the ascent by which they went up into the porch of the temple.. 285 XXIII. Of the gates of the porch of the temple 286 XXIV. Of the pinnacles of the temple 286 XXV. Of the porters of the temple 287 XXVI. Of the charge of the porters of the temple more particularly 2S7 XXVII. Of the doors of the temple 288 XXVIII. Of the leaves of this gate of the temple 2S8 XXIX. What the doors of the temple were made of 2S9 XXX. How the doors of the temple were adorned 2S9 XXXI. Of the wall of the temple 290 XXXII. Of the garnishing the temple with precious stones - 291 XXXIII. Of the windows of t lie temple 291 XXXIV. Of the chambers of the temple 292 XXXV. Of the stairs by which they went up into the chambers of the temple ; 292 XXXVI. Of the molten sea that was in the temple 293 XXXVII. Upon what the molten sea stood in the temple 294 XXXVIII. Of the lavers of the temple 295 XXXIX. Of the tables of the temple 295 XL. Oftheinstrumentswherewith this sacrifice was slain, and of the four tables they were laid on in the temple 296 XLT. Of the candlesticks of the temple.. 297 XI.II. Of the lamps belonging to the candlesticks of the temple 298 XLIII. Of the Nhow-biVad on the golden table In the temple Page 299 XI. IV. Of the HiiutlcrH belonging to the candlesticks and lamps of the temple 200 XLV. Of the snntr-dlshes I Imf were with the snu tiers In the temple 299 XLVI. Of the golden tongs belonging to the temple 300 XLVII. Of the altar of incense in the temple 301 XLVIII. Of the golden censers belonging to the temple 302 XLIX. Of the golden spoons of the temple. 303 L. Of the bowls and basons belong- ing to the temple 301 LI. Of the flagons and cups of the temple 305 I.II. Of the chargers of the temple 305 LIII. Of the goings out of the temple 306 LIV. Of the singers belonging to the temple 307 LV. Of the union of the holy and most holy temple 308 LVI. Of the holiest or inner temple 369 LVII. Of the veil of the temple 309 LVIII. Of the doors of the inner temple... 310 LIX. Of the golden nails of the inner temple „ 311 LX. Of the floor and walls of the inner temple 312 LXI. Of the ark of the covenant which was placed in the inner temple.. 313 LXII. Of the placing of the ark in the holiest or inner temple 314 LXIII. Of the mercy-seat, and how it was placed in the holy temple 315 LXIV. Of the living waters of the inner temple 316 LXV. Of the chains which were in the oracle or inner temple 316 LXVI. Of the high priest, and of his office in the inner temple 317 LXVII. Of the high priest’s going into the holiest alone 319 LXVIII. Of the high priest going in thither but once a year 319 LXIX. Of the cherubims, and of their being placed over the mercy- seat in the inner temple 320 LXX. Of the figures that were upon the walls of the inner temple 321 The Jerusalem Sinner Saved, or Good Vet rs for (he Vilest of Men : being an Help for Despairing Souls: Showing (hat Jesus Christ would hare Mercy in the first place offered to the Biggest Sinners; to which is added an answer to those grand objections that lie in the wag of them that would believe, for the Com- fort of those that fear they have sinned against the Ilolg Ghost. Introduction 323, 324 The disciples were commanded to preach, “begin- ning at Jerusalem.” By a Jerusalem sinner, Bunyan menus one who has had peculiar privi- leges and has attained peculiar depravity. His proposition is, that Christ is willing to stive the biggest sinners 325-330 I. The reason is — 1. The biggest sinners have the most need. 2. It redounds most to the fame of his name. 3. It gives special encouragement to others. 4. It specially weakens the kingdom of Satan. 5. Such sinners, when converted- are 22 CONTENTS. the best helps to the Church, because of the severe contests with the devil they have in parting from him, and because of their knowledge of his secrets. 6. Such sinners are apt to love most. The author here refers to a story that Mary of Bethany was the same Mary who was a public sinner, and who anointed Jesus’ feet at the house of Simon. 7. Because grace finds the best matter to kindle upon in such sinners. 8. By saving such sinners, others are left more completely without excuse Pages 330-346 II. The application— 1. Such salvation shows the heart of Christ. 2. It shows the sufficiency of the merits of Christ. 3. It gives encouragement to all to come to Christ 346-366 The Holy War, made by Shaddai upon Diabolus f or the Regaining the Metropolis of the World; or the Losing and Taking again of the Town of Mansoul. The Author’s Preface (in verse). Answer to the charge of plagiarism in the “ Pilgrim’s Progress.” The history of Mansoul well known to many, especially to the author. He knew Mansoul in its sin and allegiance to Diabolus. He witnessed the attack by Emmanuel, the final capture, and the blessedness introduced by the victory. He also was present through the long struggle which followed for the final possession. He is then uttering no fable, as many authors do 367-369 The continent of Universe. The fair and delicate town of Mansoul — its beauty, dominion, defences, and entrances 370,371 The history of Diabolus, the enemy of Mansoul; his origin and fall. Diabolus has a consultation with his officers, and it is agreed that Mansoul shall be assaulted by Diabolus alone in the guise of a familiar animal, concealing his intentions by all manner of deceit, while one Tisiphone should lie in ambuscade to shoot Captain Resist- ance as soon as he should appear upon the walls. 371-373 Diabolus appears before Ear-gat.e and demands audience of the chief men. While he is speak- ing, Captain Resistance is shot. Ill-pause then makes a speech. The people eat the forbidden fruit, are made drunk thereby, and open the gates to Diabolus and his crew. He is chosen king. He deposes the Mayor, Lord Understand- ing, and the Recorder, Mr. Conscience. He dark- ens Understanding by building a wall before the windows of his house. Debauches Con- science, and then persuades Mansoul that the Recorder is crazy 373-376 Diabolus next makes Lord WiU-be-will his lieu- tenant, with Mr. Vile-affections for his deputy. The image of Shaddai defaced. Other officers of Diabolus 376-37S A message sent to Shaddai concerning these trans- actions, who forms a plan with his son for the reoccupation of Mansoul. Diabolus endeavours to conceal this plan from Mansoul, induces them to take a new oath of allegiance, proclaims un- bounded liberty in all fleshly lusts, and arms the people with an iron helmet to cover the head, a breastplate to harden the heart, a tongue set on fire of hell for a sword, the shield of unbelief, and with a peculiar piece called “ a dumb and prayer- less spirit.” 378-383 Meanwhile, Shaddai organizes an army under Captains Boanerges, Conviction, Judgment, and Execution, stout, rough-hewn men, whom Shaddai was accustomed to put in the van of his armies. They entrench in front of Ear- gate Pages 383, 384 Diabolus makes a speech to the citizens which sets them running about and crying, “The men that have turned the world upside down are come hither also.” 384, 385 Boanerges utters his summons at Ear-gate, but no one appears to listen. At last a conference takes place, and each of the four captains de- livers his message. They demand the imme- diate surrender of Ill-pause. Their demands refused by Mr. Incredulity, the mayor, who de- clares his belief that they are no soldiers of the King, but only vagabonds 385-389 The attack commences, directed chiefly against Ear-gate, but is unsuccessful. Mr. Tradition, Mr. Human-wisdom, and Mr. Man’s-invention en- list in the army of Shaddai, but are taken pris- oners, and enter the army of Diabolus under Captain Anything. The captains succeed in tearing off the roof from the house of Mr. Under- standing with their missiles, so that he had much more light than heretofore. They also kill Mr. Swearing, Mr. Whoring, Mr. Fury, Mr. Stand-to- lies, Mr. Drunkenness, and Mi'. Cheating, and dismount two great guns at Ear-gate, called Heady and High-mind. Mansoul in constant alarm day and night. Perplexed thoughts. Con- science, the old recorder, utters words like great claps of thunder, so that the town would have surrendered had it-not been for old Incredulity and the fickleness of Lord Will-be-will 389-391 At last, Lord Will-be-will proposes a surrender upon conditions drawn up by Mr. Ill-pause, which are indignantly rejected. A mutiny in Mansoul in consequence, convoked by Mr. Con- science and Lord Understanding, who are cast into prison by Diabolus 391-394 The captains send a petition to Shaddai for rein- forcements. They are sent under command of Prince Emmanuel 394-397 The town now completely invested. Mounts are erected against it, as Mount Gracious, with its white flag, and Mount Justice, with its red flag. Mansoul is silent. A parley between Emmanuel and Diabolus, but in a language which Mansoul cannot understand. Emmanuel then addresses Mansoul directly, but double guards are set at Ear-gate, and nothing is heard 397-401 An attack is then prepared, when Mr. Loth-to- stoop appears and proposes to surrender half the town to Emmanuel., This rejected, he pro- poses that Diabolus shall have a private place within to live in, and Emmanuel all the rest. This rejected, he proposes that Diabolus shall enjoy the hospitalities of the town on an occa- sional visit. This rejected, he proposes that the Diabolonians of the town be allowed to remain unmolested 401, 402 Other similar propositions being rejected, a gene- ral attack commences by all the captains...402-104 Diabolus then vainly proposes reformation instead of surrender 404, 405 Ear-gate is broken down, and Emmanuel's forces enter. They force the strong castle of Mr. Con- science, who is full of fear and perplexity. Ill- pause slain. A capitulation proposed. No answer returned, since the proposal came only from Lord Understanding and Mr. Conscience. The castle of Diabolus forced. He is summoned from his den by Emmanuel in person, stripped of his armour, and exhibited in the market-place, and sent away into a salt desert. Mr. Conscience, CONTENTS*. 23 Lori] Understanding, and Lord TVHl-be-wlil put In prison. After penitent petitions on the part of the town, the l'rlnee summons the prisoners before him, while the victory gained by Emman- uel Is proclaimed amid sounds of celestial music, the prisoners shouting Amen Pages 405-4X4 After this complete submission of the Will, the Understanding, and the Conscience, a universal and complete pardon Is proclaimed In Mansoul, and the town Is tilled with rejoicing 414-419 The purification of the city. The trial of tile Dlab- olonlans remaining In It, and the execution of the chief of them. The love of Emmanuel for Mansoul and the banquets lie gave continually. 419-429 Emmanuel commits Mansoul to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, who as lord secretary is to take of the things of Christ and to show unto them, and to the teaching of Recorder Conscience in all moral duties. Warnings and instructions of Emmanuel 429-433 Mr. Carnal security and other Diabolonlans seduce the citizens with fair and deceptive words. Em- manuel withdraws from them. The Diabolonlans petition their prince to return, and receive from him Instructions how to do his work, Mr. Pry- well discovers their plot, and announces that Plabolus is about to march against the city with an army of Doubters, under the command of General Incredulity. The corporation take meas- ures of defence — viz., they close the gates; they search for Diabolonlans lurking in the city; they require of offenders public confession; they ap- point a day of fasting and prayer, and petition Shaddai for help 433-149 They find Dlabolonians who had changed their names for concealment, as Lord Covetousness was found hid in Mr. Mind’s house under the name of Prudent-thrifty ; in Lord Will-be-will’s, one Lasciviousness under the name of Harm- less-m irtli 449-450 Diabolus with his army invests the city. Mansoul applies to Recorder Conscience for advice, but gets little comfort till Lord Understanding ex- amines and interprets his words, when tire citi- zens are aroused to more determined resistance. Diabolus tries fawning and deceit. The contest continues with great, fury till the besieged engage in a sally with slight success. Diabolus storms Feel-gate and effects an entrance, driving the forces of Emmanuel into the castle, tilling the streets with shouts of hell-fire. For two years and a half the Diabolonlans hold the town, but can get no access to the castle. The peti- tions of the citizens for aid receive no notice from Shaddai, because they are not counter- signed by the lord secretary, the indwelling Spirit 451-459 Mr. Godly-fear shows them their error. They apply to tlie lord secretary for aid, who indites a petition to which they all heartily assent. Cap- tain Or -lence carries it to Emmanuel 459, 400 The rage of Diabolus, who demands the surrender of Captain Credence 460, 401 The favourable reply of Emmanuel. Mansoul discovers the wonderful power of faith at the court of Emmanuel, and desires that Captain Credence should thenceforth be their leader and ruler 401, 462 The council of Diabolus and his princes how they may take the castle, which results in a plan to surfeit Mansoul with the things of this world, that she may destroy herself. To tills end they determine to withdraw from the town Into the open field Pages 102- 10' While tills diabolic council Is In session. Captain Credence receives an order from Emmanuel to meet him on the third day In the Held— un order which he could not comprehend till lie was in- formed by the lord secretary of the plans of Diabolus and of the coming of Emmanuel with a great army. The Joy of Mansoul and the con- sternation of tlie enemy, who withdraw to flic open field. On tlie appointed day, Cuplaln Cre- dence makes a sally. A fierce Im file ensues, the issue of which Is for a long time doubtful. Mr. Speedy comes with (lie news that Emmnnuel is at hand. Diabolus and his army of Doubters surrounded. He and Ills captains flee. His whole army put to the sword 404-406 The Prince enters Mansoul amid tlie rejoicings of the people. They wash in the fountain set for Judah and Jerusalem, and are cleansed from their pollution. They search out and destroy all lurking Dlabolonians within the walls 100, 407 By order of Emmanuel they send a detachment to bury tlie dead of tlie army of Doubters, and leave “uotaboue nor a skull nor a piece of a bone." 467, 408 Diabolus having descended through Hell-gate to liis den, organizes another expedition against Mansoul, consisting in part of Doubters and iu part of Blood-men, still under the command of old Incredulity. Tlie army, twenty-five thousand strong, beleaguer Mansoul. Their summons to surrender is taken to Emmanuel, who forthwith organizes the defence. . The siege is long and severe, as a trial for the faith, hope, and love of Mansoul. At last an attack is ordered by the Prince, which results in the entire rout of the Doubters and tlie caplure of tlie Biood-men in a body 403-471 Four of the fugitive Doubters make their way into tlie town, where they hide in tlie liouseof a Diab- olonian, Mr. Evil-questioning. They are cap- tured, tried, and crucified 471-476 Other resident Diabolonians sought out and de- stroyed, but some remained to the lime when Mansoul ceased any longer to dwell in tlie king- dom of Universe 475, 476 Emmanuel appoints a day when he holds a convo- cation of the whole people of Mansoul. He then proclaims many exceeding great and precious promises; he expresses his great love for them; he gives them solemn charges against sin; lie bids them be faithful unto death, that they may receive the crown of life 470-479 The Life and Death of Mr. JBadman, presented to the World in a Familiar Dialogue between Mr. Il'ise- man and Mr. Attentive. Introduction 4S1-486 This history, which is in striking contrast, in point of vividness and dramatic power, with the allegories of Bunyan, is given in the form of a dialogue, in which the vices and crimes of a thoroughly bad man are described, with the comments of the narrator 4S7-556 Christ’s sermon on the Mount (iu verse) 657-500 Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, or a Plain and Profitable Discourse on John vi. 37 ; showing the Cause, Truth, and Manner of the Coming of a Sin- ner to Jesus Christ; with his Happy lleceptu n and Dlessed Entertainment. This is a most earnest and elaborate presentation 24 CONTENTS. of the nature or the duty of coming to Christ, of the difficulties and objections of those who are attempting to come to Christ, of the nature of the reward or those who accept Christ, and of the doom of tnose who reject him. It gives an in- sight, perhaps better than any other of Bun- yan’s extant works, into his character as a preacher and the sources of his remarkable power Pages 561-626 The Barren I- ig Tree , or (lie Doom and Downfall of the Fruitless Professor ; showing that the Day of Grace may be past with him long before his Life is ended: the Signs, also, by which such Miserable Mortals may be known. To the Reader 627 This is an exegetical discourse, of a practical and hortatory nature, concerning the cursing of the fig tree on which our Lord found nothing bpt leaves 628-653 A Discourse on Prayer, wherein are briefly discovered — I. What Prayer is.— II. What it is to Pray with the Spirit. — III. What it is to Pray with the Spirit, and with the Understanding also. Definition of prayer 655-659 Praying with the spirit 659-665 Praying with the understanding 665-670 A word of information, of encouragement, and of rebuke : 670-675 A Relation of the Imprisonment of Mr. John Bunyan, Minister of the Gospel at Bedford, in November, 1660; his Examination before the Justices ; his Con- ference with the Clerk of the Peace; what passed between the Judges and his Wife when she Presented a Petition for his Deliverance, &c. Written by Him- self. Arrested November 12, 1660, while preaching. Op- portunity for escape. Reasons for neglecting it. The examination before the justice, and a con- versation with one Dr. Lindale 677-681 Examination before the quarter sessions. Sentence of banishment or hanging 681-684 Conversation with the clerk of the peace 6S4-687 The coronation of the king. Reasons why Bunyan could not be pardoned. Interview of Runyan’s wife with Sir Matthew Hale, and his treatment of her. Tlie temper of Justice Chester 687-690 Prison Meditations (in verse). Dedicated to the heart of suffering saints and reigning sinners. 691-694 Reprobation Asserted, or the Doctrine of Eternal Elec- tion and Reprobation promiscuously handled in Eleven Chapters; wherein the most material objec- tions made by the Opposers of this Doctrine are fully answered, several doubts removed, and sundry cases of Conscience resolved. Reprobation is a reality 693-696 It is tlie negative of election 696, 697 It was fixed from before the foundation of the world 697-699 Its causes 699-701 Its unchangeableness 701, 702 Reprobation not thp same as appointing to eternal condemnation, nor the cause of it 702-705 The reprobated have no cause of com plaint against God 705-707 No hindrance in obtaining salvation 707-709 The offers of tlie gospel are made to the reprobated. 709, 710 These offers cannot be received by tlie reprobated, nor Indeed by the elect, save by the special aid of the Spirit, which is given to the latter and withheld from the former Pages 710-713 Still, the offers of grace are made to tlie reprobated in order to show, in various ways, the nature of sin, and tlie justice and mercy of God, and espe- cially to command tlie assent of tlie intelligent universe to the necessity of their condemna- tion 713-720 The Strait Gale, or the Great Difficulty of Going to Heaven. To the Reader 721 Tliis is a tractate containing practical directions pointing out the entrance and the way of salva- tion 722-739 The Heavenly Footman, or a Description of the Man that gets to Heaven; together with the way he runs in, the marks he goes by; also some Directions how to run so as to obtain. An epistle to all the slothful and careless people. 741-743 This is a description of the Christian life under the image of a journey. It is supposed to be the trea- tise referred to in tlie introduction to “Pilgrim’s Progress "I, writing of the way And race of saints in this our gospel day, Fell suddenly into an allegory About their journey and the way to glory.” 744— /o8 Sighs from Hell, or the Groans of a Damned Soul, discovering from Luke iv. the Lamentable Estate of the Damned; and may fitly serve as a Warning Word to Sinners, both Old and Young, by Faith in Jesus Christ to avoid the same place of Torment; with a discovery of the usefulness of the Scriptures as our safe conduct for avoiding the Torments of Hell. Tlie Author to the Reader 759, 760 This is an explanatory discourse upon tlie parable of tlie Rich Man and Lazarus 761-814 A Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my Prac- tice ; or, with who, and who not, I can hold Church fellowship or the Communion of Saints: showing, by divers arguments, that though I dare not communi- cate with the open profane, yet / can with those visi- ble saints that differ about Water Baptism; wherein is also discoursed whether that be the entering ordi- nance into fellowship or no. To the Reader 815, 816 The nature of God. The Trinity. The resurrec- tion. Tlie divine and human nature of Christ. The righteousness which saves the sinner is the righteousness of Christ, gained by us as we are united to him. His exaltation. Tlie final judg- ment 816-820 Christ's righteousness ours by grace. God only can impute this righteousness. This mputation made on condition of faith, which faitli puts it- self forth in such acts as purely respect a gift— viz., receiving, accepting, &c. This faith is the work of the Spirit, performed only in those who were eternally ordained to life.. 820, 821 Election is free and permanent, made from eter- nity, not upon tlie ground of foreseen good works, but as itself the origin of such works, the elect are chosen in Christ; nothing can hin- der their conversion and salvation. They know of their election only by being actually called. Election achieves its ends only through means. 821, 822 Effectual calling is by the Holy Ghost attending CONTICNTS. 25 the wniil. It convicts of sin, nwnkcns fear of punishment ; II sanctifies, producing laltli, hope, repentance, and love Puget 822-82-1 riie Scriptures are the word of God, able to make man wise unto salvation without the aid of any human Inventions, Their object to teach what sin Is, and to lead us to Christ. They will he surely 1'ultllled. Men will be Judged by them 821 Human governments are of God's appointment, 821 A reason of my practice in worship. I. With whom 1 dare not hold church communion. 1. With them that profess not faith and holiness, excluding a real saint If he be not visible by pro- fession, and Including even the secret hypocrite If he be hid by a credible profession. («) lleeuuse God hath from the beginning made tills distinc- tion. He banished Cain. When seed of Seth commixed In worship, he sent Noah to preach against It, and because they would not cease, sent the llpod to destroy them; and so in many other instances, {b) Because it is so commanded in the Scriptures, especially In connection with t Ho ancient Church, (c) Because such is the example of the New Testament churches, they being made up of the “called of Christ” — those who have drank into his Spirit — those in whom is God— the partakers of the joy of the gospel— the in- wardly circumcised — the turned from idols— the body of Christ, (d) Because separation from the world is the duty and privilege of the Church. («•) Because union with the world is incongruous, as the ploughing of the ox and the ass together. (/) Because such union is pernicious and destruc- tive, as is shown especially in the history of Israel. (, in truth, the cause that at first I did not speak of it in the book ; I do now also leave it to be thought on by men of sound judgment. I lay not the stress of my salvation thereupon, but upon the Lord Jesns in the promise; yet seeing I am. here unfolding of my secret things, I thought it might not be altogether inexpedient to let this also show itself, though I cannot now re- late the matter as there I did experience it. This lasted in the savour of it for about three or four days, and then I began to mistrust, and to despair again. Wherefore still my life hung in doubt before me, not knowing which way I should go; only ORA CE ABOUNDING TO THE CIIIEE OF SINNERS. 51 this I found my soul desire, even to oust itself at the foot of grace, by prayer and supplica- tion. But oh! it was hard for me now, to have the face to pray to this Christ for mercy, against whom l had thus vilely sinned: it was hard work, 1 say, to offer to look him in the face, against whom I had so vilely sinned; and indeed I have found it as diflieult to come to Ooil by prayer, after backsliding from him, as to do any other thing. Oh! the shame that did now attend me ! especially when I thought, I am now a-going to pray to him for mercy, that I had so lightly esteemed but a while be- fore! I was ashamed, yea, even confounded, because this villainy had been committed by me; but I saw that there was but one way with me, I must go to him, and humble my- self unto him, and beg that he, of his wonder- ful mercy, would show pity to me, and have mercy upon my wretched sinful soul. Which, when the tempter perceived, he strongly suggested to me, “ that I ought not to pray to God, for prayer was not for any in my case; neither could it do me good, because I had rejected the Mediator, by whom all prayers came with acceptance to God the Father; and without whom, no prayer could come into his presence. Wherefore now to pray, is but to add sin to sin ; yea, now to pray, seeing God has c;ist you off, is the next way to anger and offend him more than you ever did before. “For God,” said he, “hath been weary of you for these several years already, because you are none of his ; your bawling in his ears hath been no pleasant voice to him ; and there- fore he let you sin this sin, that you might be quite cut off; and will you pray still?” This the devil urged, and set forth that in Num- bers, when Moses said to the children of Israel, “That because they would not go up to possess the land, when God would have them, therefore for ever did he bar them out from thence, though they prayed they might with tears.” As it is said in another place, “The man that sins presumptuously shall be taken from God’s altar, that he may die ;” even as Joab was by King Solomon, when he thought to find shelter there. These places did pinch me very sore; yet my case being desperate, I thought with myself, I can but die; and if it must be so, it shall once be said, “That su«h an one died at the foot of Christ in prayer.” This I did, but with great difficulty God doth know; and that because, together with this, still that saying about Esau would be set at my heart, even like a flaming sword, to keep the way of the tree of life, lest I should take thereof and live. Oh! who knows how hard a thing I found it, to come to God in prayer! I did also desire the prayers of the people of God for me, but I feared that God would give them no heart to do it; yea, I trembled in my sonl to think, that some or other of them would shortly tell me, that" God hath said those words to them, that he once did say to the prophet, concerning the children of Israel, “Pray not for this people, for I have rejected them.” So, “Pray not for him, for 1 have rejected him.” Yea, I thought he had whispered this to some of them already, only they durst not tell me so; neither durst I ask them of it, for fear if it should be so, it would make me quite beside myself. “Man knows the beginning of sin, (said Spira:) but who bounds the issues thereof?” About this time I took an opportunity to break my mind to an ancient Christian, and told him all my case; I told him also, that I was afraid I had sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost; and lie told me, he thought so too. Here, therefore, I had but cold comfort ; but talking a little more with him, I found him, though a good man, a stranger to much com- bat with the devil. Wherefore I went to God again, as well as I could, for mercy still. Now also did the tempter begin to mock me in my misery, saying, “ That seeing I had thus parted with the Lord Jesus and provoked him to displeasure, who would have stood between my soul and the flame of devouring fire, there was now but one way, and that was, to pray that God the Father would be a Mediator be- twixt his Son and me; that we might be recon- ciled again, and that I might have that blessed benefit in him, that his saints enjoyed.” Then did that Scripture seize upon my soul, “He is of one mind, and who can turn him?” Oh! I saw it was as easy to persuade him to make a new world, a new covenant, or a new Bible, besides that we have already, as to pray for such a thing. This was to persuade him, that what he had done already, was mere folly, and persuade him to alter, yea to disannul the whole way of salvation ; and then would that saying rend my soul asunder, “Neither is there salvation in any other, for there is none other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be saved.” Now the most free, and full, and gracious words of the Gospel, were the greatest torment L\ OF ill i' Q 52 EUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to me; yea, --nothing so afflicted me, as the thoughts of Jesus Christ, the remembrance of a Saviour; because I had cast him off, brought forth the villainy of my sin, and my loss by it to mind; nothing did twinge ray conscience like this; everything that I thought of the Lord Jesus, of his grace, love, goodness, kind- ness, gentleness, meekness, death, blood, prom- ises, and blessed exhortations, comforts, and consolations, it went to my soul like a sword ; for still unto these my considerations of the Lord Jesus, these thoughts would make place for themselves in my heart. “Ay, this is the Jesus, the loving Saviour, the Son of God, whom you, have parted with, whom you have slighted, despised, and abused. This is the only Saviour, the only Redeemer, the only one that could so love sinners, as to wash them from their sins in his own most precious blood; but you have no part nor lot in this Jesus; you have put him from you ; you have said in your heart, let him go if he will. Now there- fore you are severed from him ; you have severed yourself from him : behold then his goodness, but yourself to be no partaker of it.” Oh! thought I, what have I lost, what have I parted with ! What has disinherited my soul ! Oh ! it is sad to be destroyed by the grace and mercy of God; to have the Lamb, the Saviour, turn lion and destroyer. I also trembled as I have said, at the sight of the saints of God, especially at those that greatly loved him, and that made it their busi- ness to walk continually with him in this world ; for they did, both in their words, their carriage, and all their expressions of tenderness and fear to sin against their precious Saviour, condemn, lay guilt upon, and also add continual affliction and shame unto my soul. “ The dread of them was upon me, and I trembled at God’s ” Samuels. Now also the tempter began afresh to mock my soul another way, saying “ That Christ in- deed did pity my case, and was sorry for my loss ; but forasmuch as I had sinned and trans- gressed as I bad done, he could by no means help me, nor save me from what I feared ; for my sin was not of the nature of theirs, for whom he bled and died ; neither was it counted with those that were laid to his charge, when he hanged on a tree ; therefore, unless he should come down from heaven, and die anew for this sin, though indeed he did greatly pity me, when yet I could have no benefit of him.” These things may seem ridiculous to others, even as ridiculous as they were in themselves, but to me they were most tormenting cogitations ; every one of them augmented my misery, that Jesus Christ should have so much love as to pity me, when yet he could not help me; nor did I think that the reason why he could not help me, was, because his merits were weak, or his grace and salvation spent on others already, but because his faithfulness to his threatenings would not let him extend his mercy to me. Besides, I thought, as I have, already hinted, that my sin was not within the bounds of that pardon, that was wrapped up in a promise ; and if not, then I -knew surely, that it was more easy for heaven and earth to pass away, than for me to have eternal life. So that the ground of all these fears of mine, did arise from a steadfast belief I had of the stability of the holy word of God, and also from my being misinformed of the nature of my sin. But oh ! how this would add to my affliction, to conceit that I should be guilty of such a sin, for which he did not die. These thoughts did so confound me, and imprison me, and tie me up from faith, that I knew not what to do. But oh ! thought I, that he would come down again ! Oh ! that the work of man’s redemp- tion was yet to be done by Christ ! how would I pray him and entreat him to count and reckon this sin among the rest for which he died ! But this Scripture would strike me down as dead : “ Christ being raised from the dead, dietli no more ; death bath no more dominion over him.” Thus, by the strange and unusual assaults of the tempter, my soul was like a broken vessel, driven as with the winds, and tossed sometimes headlong into despair ; sometimes upon the covenant of works, and sometimes to wish that j the new covenant, and the conditions thereof, might so far forth as I thought myself con- cerned, be turned another way, and changed, “ But in all these, I was as those that jostle against the rocks ; more broken, scattered and rent.” Oh! the unthought-of imaginations, frights, fears, and terrors, that are affected by a thorough application of guilt yielding to des- peration! “This is the man that hath his dwelling among the tombs with the dead ; that is always crying out, and cutting himself with stones.” But I say, all in vain ; desperation will not comfort him, the old covenant will not save him ; nay, heaven and earth shall pass away, before one jot or tittle of the word and law of grace will fail or be removed. This I saw, this I felt, and under this I groaned ; yet this advantage I got thereby, namely, a farther confirmation of the certainty of the way of GRACE ARGUS 1>ISG TO THE CHIEF OF SIS SEES. salvation ; and that the Scriptures were the word of God. Oh! I cannot now express what I then saw and felt of the steadiness of Jesus Christ, the rock of man’s salvation ; what was done could not be undone, added to, nor altered. I saw, indeed, that sin might drive the soul be- yond Christ, even the sin which is unpardon- able; but woe to him that was so driven, for the word would shut him out. Thus was I always sinking, whatever T did think or do. So one day I walked to a neigh- bouring town and sat down upon a settle in the street, and fell into a very deep pause about (he most fearful state my sin had brought me to; and after long musing, 1 lifted up my head, but methouglit I saw, as if the sun that shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light; and as if the stones in the streets, and the tiles upon the houses, did bend themselves against me. Methouglit that they all combined together to banish me out of the world. I was abhorred of them, and unfit to dwell among them, or be partaker of their benefits, because I had sinned against the Saviour. Oh how happy now was every creature over I was ! For they stood fast, and kept their station, but I was 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 wretch as I avn ?” I had no sooner said it, but this returned upon me, sis an echo doth answer a voice, “ This sin is not unto death.” At which I was, as if I had been raised out of the grave, 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 un- • expectedness of the sentence ; the fitness of the word, the rightness of the timing of it, the power, and sweetness, and light, and glory, that came with it also, was marvellous to me to find ; I was now, for the time, out of doubt, as to that about which I so much was in doubt • before; my fears before were, that my sin was nut pardonable, and so that I had no right to pray, to repent, &c., or that if I did it would be of no advantage or profit to me. But now, thought I, if this sin is not unto death, then it is pardonable ; therefore from this I have en- couragement to come to God by Christ for mercy, to consider the promise of forgiveness, as that which stands with open arms to receive me as well as others. This, therefore, was a great easement to my mind, to wit, that my sin was pardonable, that it was not the sin unto death. None but those that know what my trouble (by their own experience) was, can tell what relief came to my soul by this consider- , ntion ; it was a release to mo from my former bonds, and a shelter from my former storms ; 1 seemed now to stand upon the same ground with other sinners, and to have as good right to the word and prayer as any of them. Now, I say, I was in hopes that my sin was not unpardonable, but that there might be hopes for me to obtain forgiveness. But oli ! how Satan did now lay about him for to bring me down again ! but he could by no means do it, neither this day, nor the most part of (he next, for this sentence stood like a mill-post at my back ; yet towards the evening of the next day, I felt this word begin to leave me, and to withdraw its supportation from me, and so I returned to my old fears again, but with a great deal of grudging and peevishness, for 1 feared the sorrow of despair; nor could my faith now long retain this word. But the next day at evening, being under many fears, I went to seek the Lord, and as I prayed, I cried, and my soul cried to him in ’ these words, with strong cries, “ 0 Lord, I be- seech thee, show me that thou hast loved me with an everlasting love.” I had no sooner said it, but with sweetness this returned upon me, as an echo, or sounding again, “ I have loved thee with an everlasting love.” Now I went to bed in quiet ; also when I awaked the next morning, it was fresh upon my soul, and I believed it. But yet the tempter left me not, for it could not be so little as an hundred times, that he that day did labour to break my peace. Oh ! the combats and conflicts that I did then meet with ; as I strove to hold by this word, that of Esau would fly in my face like lightning; I should be sometimes up and down twenty times in an hour; yet God did bear me out, and keep my heart upon this word; from which I had also, for several days together, very much sweetness, and comfortable hopes of pardon; for thus it was made out unto me, “ I loved thee whilst thou wast committing this sin, I loved thee before, I love thee still, and I will love thee forever.” Yet I saw my sin most barbarous, and a filthy crime, and could not but conclude, with great shame and astonishment, that I had horribly abused the holy Son of God. Wherefore I felt my soul greatly to love and pity him, and my bowels yearn towards him : for I saw he was still my friend, and did reward me good for evil ; yea, the love and affection that then did burn within me to my Lord and Saviour Jesus 54 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Christ, did work at this time such a strong and hot desire of revengement upon myself for the abuse I had done unto him, that, to speak as I then thought, had I a thousand gallons of blood within my veins, I could freely then have spilt it all at the command and feet of this my Lord and Saviour. And as I was thus musing, and in my studies, considering how to love the Lord, and to ex- press my love to him, that saying came in upon me, “If thou, Lord, shouldst mark in- iquity, 0 Lord, who should stand? But there is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayst be feared.” These were good words to me, es- pecially the latter part thereof; to wit, that “ There is forgiveness with the Lord that he may be feared that is, as I then understood it, that he might be loved, and had in rever- ence ; for it was thus made out to me, “ That the great God did set so high an esteem upon the love of his poor creatures, that rather than he would go without their love, he would par- don their transgressions.” And now was that word fulfilled on me, and I was also refreshed by it ; “ Then shall they be ashamed and confounded, and never open their mouths any more, because of their shame, when I am pacified towards them for all that they have done, saith the Lord God.” Thus was my soul at this time (and as I then did think, for ever) set at liberty from being afflicted with my former guilt and amazement. But before many weeks were gone, I began to despond again, fearing, lest, notwithstanding all that I had enjoyed, that I might be de- ceived and destroyed at the last ; for this con- sideration came strong into my mind, “ That whatever comfort and peace I thought I might have from the word of the promise of life, yet unless there could be found in my refreshment, a concurrence and agreement in the Scrip- tures, let me think what I will thereof, and hold it never so fast, I should find no such thing at the end ; for the Scriptures cannot be broken.” Now began my heart again to ache, and fear I might meet with a disappointment at last. Wherefore I began with all seriousness to ex- amine my former comfort, and to consider whether one that had sinned as I had done, might with confidence trust upon the faithful- ness of God, laid down in these words, by which I had been comforted, and on which I had leaned myself. But now were brought to my mind, “For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted tile heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Ghost, and have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the world to come, if they shall fall away, to renew them again unto repentance. For if we sin wilfully, and after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remains no more sacrifice for sin, but certain fearful looking-for of judgnjent, and fiery indignation, which shall devour the ad- versaries ; even as Esau, who for one morsel of meat, sold his birthright. For ye know how that afterwards, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected; for he found no place of repentance, though he sought it care- fully with tears.” Now was the word of the Gospel forced from my soul ; so that no promise or encouragement was to be found in the Bible for me ; and now would that saying work upon my spirit to afflict me, “Rejoice not, 0 Israel, for joy as other people.” For I saw, indeed, there was cause of rejoicing for those that held to Jesus ; but for me, I had cut myself off by my trans- gressions, and left myself neither foot-hold nor hand-hold, among all the stays and props in the precious word of life. And truly, I did now feel myself to sink into a gulf, as an house whose foundation is de- stroyed : I did liken myself in this condition, unto the case of a child that was fallen into a mill-pit, who though it could make some shift to scrabble and sprawl in the water, yet be- cause it could find neither hold for hand nor foot, therefore at last it must die in that con- dition. So soon as this fresh assault had fas- tened on my soul, that Scripture came into my heart, “This for many days.” And indeed I found it was so; for I could not be delivered, nor brought to peace again, until well nigh two years and an half were completely finished. Wherefore these words, though in themselves they tended to no discouragement, yet to me, who feared this condition would be eternal, they were at sometimes as an help and refresh- ment to me. For, thought I, many days are not for ever, many days will have an end ; therefore seeing I was to be afflicted not a few, but many days, yet I was glad it was but for many days. Thus, I say, I could recall myself sometimes and give myself an hell), for as soon as ever the word came into my mind, at first I knew my trouble would be long, yet this would be but sometimes; for I could not always think on this, nor ever be helped by it, though I did. CRACK ABOUNDING TO THE CHIEF OF SINNERS. 65 Now wliilo tlio Scriptures luv before me. and laid sin anew at my door, that saying in Luke xviii. 1 , with others, did encourage me to prayer; then the tempter again laid at me very sore, suggesting, “That neither the mercy of God, nor yet the blood of Christ, did at all concern me, nor could they help me for my sin; therefore it was but in vain to pray.” Yet, thought I, “ I will pray.” “ Rut, said the tempter, your sin is unpardonable.” “Well, said I, I will pray.” “It is to no boot, said he.” “ Yet, said f, I will pray.” So I went to prayer with God; and while I was at prayer, I uttered words to this effect: “Lord, Satan tells me, that neither thy mercy, nor Christ’s blood is sufficient to save my soul ; Lord, shall I honour thee most, by believing thou wilt, and canst? or him, by believing that thou neither wilt, nor canst? Lord, I would fain honour thee, by believing that thou wilt, and canst.” And as I was thus before the Lord, that Scripture fastened on my heart, “Oman, great is thy faith:” even as if one had clapped me on the back, as I was on my knees before God : yet I was not able to believe this, that this was a prayer of faith, till almost six months after ; for I could not think that I had faith, or that there should be a word for me to act faith on ; therefore I should still be, as sticking in the jaws of desperation, and went mourning up and down in a sad condition. There was nothing now that I longed for more than to be put out of doubt, as to this thing in question, and as I was vehemently desiring to know, if there was indeed hope for me, these words came rolling into my mind, “Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? Doth his promise tail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gra- cious? Hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies?” And all the while they run in my mind, methought I had still this as the an- swer, “’Tis a question whether he hath or no ; it may be he hath not.” Yea, the interroga- tory seemed to me to carry in it a sure affirma- tion that indeed he had not, nor would so cast off, but would be favourable ; that his promise doth not fail, and that he hath not forgotten to be gracious, nor would in anger shut up his tender mercy. Something also there was upon my heart at the same time, which I now can- not call to mind, which with this text did sweeten my heart, and make me conclude, that his mercy might not be quite gone, nor gone for ever. At another time I remembered, I was again much under this question, “ Whether the blood of Christ was sufficient to save my soul?” in which doubt I continued from morning, till about seven or eight at night; and at last, when I was, as it were, quite worn out with fear, lest it should not lay hold on me, these words did sound suddenly within my heart, “ He is able.” Rut methought this word able, was spoke so loud to me, it showed a great word, it seemed to be writ in great letters, and gave such a jostle to my fear and doubt, (I mean for the time it tarried with me, which was about a day,) as I never had from that, all my life, either before or after. (Heb. vii. 25.) Rut one morning as I was again at prayer and trembling under the fear of this, that no word of God could help me, that piece of a sentence darted in upon me, “ My grace is suf- ficient.” At this methought I felt some stay, as if there might be hopes ; but oh ! how good a thing it is for God to send his word ! for about a fortnight before, I was looking on this very place, and then I thought it could not come near my soul with comfort, therefore I threw down my book in a pet; then I thought it was not large enough for me ; no, not large enough, but now it was as if it had arms of grace so wide, that it could not only enclose me, but many more beside. By these words I was sustained, yet not without exceeding conflicts, for the space of seven or eight weeks ; for my peace would be in it, and out, sometimes twenty times a day, comfort now, and trouble presently ; peace now, and before I could go a furlong, as full of fear and guilt as ever heart could hold ; and this was not only now and then, but my whole seven weeks’ experience. For this about the sufficiency of grace, and that of Esau’s parting with his birthright, would be like a pair of scales within my mind, sometimes one end would be uppermost and sometimes again the other ; according to which would be my peace or troubles. Therefore I did still pray to God, that he would come in with his Scripture more fully on my heart; to wit, that he would help me to apply the whole sentence, for as yet I could not; what he gave, that T gathered; but further I could not go, for as yet it only helped me to hope there might be mercy for mo, “ My grace is sufficient :” and though it 56 BUN FAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. came no farther, it answered my former ques- tion ; to wit, that there was hope ; yet because, “for thee” was left out, I was not contented, but prayed to God for that also. Wherefore, one day, when I was in a meeting of God’s people, full of sadness and terror, for my fears again were strong upon me, and as i was now thinking my soul was never the better, but my case most sad and fearful, these words did with great power suddenly break in upon me, “ My power is sufficient for thee, My grace is suffi- cient for thee, My grace is sufficient for thee,” three times together : and oh ! methought that every word was a mighty word unto me ; as “ my,” and “ grace,” and “ sufficient,” and “ for thee ;” they were then, and sometimes are still, far bigger than others be. At which time my unlwp Runyan, whilst others envied him for his so earnestly labouring in Christ’s vineyard; yeti the seed of the word he all this while sowed in the hearts of his congregation, watered with the grace of God, brought forth in abundance, in bringing in disciples to the church of Christ. Another part of his time he spent in recon- ciling differences, by which he hindered many mischiefs, and saved some families from ruin ; and in some fallings-out, lie was uneasy until he found a means to labour a reconciliation, and become a peace-maker, on whom a bless- ing is promised in holy writ; and indeed, in doing this good office he may he said to sum up his days, it being the last undertaking of his life, as will appear iu the close of this paper. When in the late reign, liberty of conscience was unexpectedly given and indulged to dis- senters of all persuasions, his piercing wit pene- trated the veil, and found that it was not for the dissenters’ sakes they were so suddenly freed from the persecutions that had long lain heavy upon them, and set in a manner, on an equal foot with the church of England, which the papists were undermining, and about to subvert. He foresaw all the advantages that could redound to the dissenters, would have been no more than what Polyphemus, the mon- strous giant of Sicily, would have allowed Ulysses, viz., That he would eat his men first, and do him the favour of being eaten last. For although Mr. Bunyan, following the ex- amples of others, did lay hold of this liberty, as an acceptable thing in itself, knowing God as the only Lord of conscience, and that it is good at all times to do according to the dictates of a good conscience, and that the preaching the glad tidings of the Gospel is beautiful in the preacher; yet in all this he moved with caution and holy fear, earnestly praying for averting the impendent judgments, which he saw, like a black tempest, hanging over our heads for our sins, and ready to break upon us, and that the Ninevites’ remedy was now highly necessary. Hereupon he gathered his congre- gation at Bedford, where he mostly lived, and had lived and spent the greater part of his life ; and there being no convenient place to be had for the entertainment of so great a confluence of people as followed him, upon the account of his teaching, he consulted with them for the building of a meeting-house, to which they made their voluntary contributions, with all cheerfulness and alacrity ; and the first time he appeared to edify, the place was so thronged, that many were constrained to stay without, though the house was very spacious, every one striving to partake of his instructions, that were of his persuasion, and show their good will towards him, by being present at the opon- ing of the place. And here he lived in peace and quiet of mind, contenting himself with that little God had bestowed upon him, and sequestering himself from all secular employ- ments to follow that of his call to the minis- try ; for as God said to Moses, he that made the lips and heart, can give eloquence and wisdom, without extraordinary acquirements in an uni- versity. During these things there were regulators sent into all cities and towns corporate, to new- model the government in the magistracy, &c., by turning out some, and putting in others. Against this Mr. Bunyan expressed his zeal with some warmness, as foreseeing the bad con- sequence that would attend it, and laboured with his congregation to prevent their being imposed on in this kind : and when a great man in those days coming to Bedford upon some such errand, sent for him, as it is supposed, to give him a place of public trust, he would by no means come at him, but sent his excuse. When he was at leisure from writing and teaching, he often came up to London, and there went among the congregations of the nonconformists, and used his talents to the great good-liking of the hearers; and even some, to whom he had been misrepresented, upon the account of his education, were con- vinced of his worth and knowledge in sacred things, as perceiving him to be a man of sound judgment, delivering himself plainly and pow- erfully ; insomuch that many who came spec- tators for novelty, rather than to be edified and improved, went away well satisfied with what they heard; and wondered, as the Jews did at the apostles, viz., whence this man should have these things; perhaps not considering that God more immediately assists those that make it their business industriously and cheer- fully to labour in his vineyard. Thus he spent his latter years in imitation of his great Lord and Master, the ever-blessed Jesus; he went about doing good; so that the most prying critic, or even malice herself, is defied to find, even upon the narrowest search or observation, any sully or stain upon his reputation, with which he may be justly charged ; and this we note, as a challenge to those that have had the least regard for him. 76 B TJNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. or them of his persuasion, and have one way or other appeared in the front of those that oppressed him ; and for the turning whose hearts, in obedience to the commission and commandment given him of God, he fre- quently prayed, and sometimes sought a bless- ing for them, even with tears; the effects of which, they may, peradventure, though unde- servedly, have found in their persons, friends, relations, estates ; for God will hear the prayers of the faithful, and answer them, even for those that vex them, as it hap- pened in the case of Job’s praying for the three persons that had been grievous in their reproach against him, even in the day of his sorrow. But yet let me come a little nearer to par- ticulars, and periods of time, for the better re- freshing the memories of those that knew his labour and sufferings, and for the satisfaction of all that read this book. After he was sensibly convicted of the wicked state of his life, and converted, he was baptized into the congregation, and ad- mitted a member thereof, viz., in the year 1655, and became speedily a very zealous pro- fessor. But upon the return of King Charles to the crown in 1660, he was, on the 12th of November, taken, as he was edifying some good people that was got together to hear the word, and confined in Bedford jail for the space of six years, till the act of indulgence to dissenters being allowed, he obtained his free- dom by the intercession of some in trust and power, that took pity of his 'sufferings. But within six years afterwards, he was again taken up, viz., in the year 1666, and was then confined for six years more; when the jailer took. such pity of his rigorous sufferings, that he did as the Egyptian jailer did to Joseph, put all the care and trust in his hand. When he was taken this last time lie was preaching on these words, viz., “Dost thou believe on the Son of God?” And this imprisonment continued six years ; and when this was over, another short affliction, which was an impris- onment of half a year, fell to his share. During these confinements, he wrote these following books, viz., “Of Prayer by the Spirit,” “The Holy City’s Resurrection,” “Grace Abounding,” “Pilgrim’s Progress,” the first part. In the last year of his twelve years’ impris- onment, tiie pastor of the congregation at Bedford died, and he was chosen to that care of souls, on the 12th of December, 1671. And in this charge he often had disputes with scholars that came to oppose him, as sup- posing him an ignorant person ; and though he argued plainly, and by Scripture, without phrases and logical expressions, yet he non- plussed one who came to oppose him, in his congregation, by demanding, Whether or no we had the true copies of the original Scrip- tures? And another, when he was preaching accused him of uneharitableness for saying, “It was very hard for most to be saved say ing, by that he went about to exclude most of his congregation. But he confuted him, and put him to silence, with the parable of the stony ground, and other texts out of the 13th of Matthew, in our Saviour’s sermon out of a .ship; all his methods being to keep close to the Scriptures, and what he found not warranted there, himself would not warrant nor determine, unless in such cases as were plain, wherein no doubts nor scruples did arise. But not to make any further mention of this kind, it is well known that this person man- aged all his affairs with such exactness as if he had made it his study, above all other things, not to give occasion of offence, but rather suffer many inconveniences to avoid it, being never heard to reproach or revile any, what injury soever he received, hut rather to rebuke those that did. And as it was in his conversation, so it is manifested in those hooks he has caused to he published to the world ; where, like the archangel disputingwith Satan about the body of Moses, as we find it in the Epistle of St. Jude, he brings no railing accusa- tion, but leaves the rebukers, those that perse- cuted him, to the Lord. In his family he kept very strict discipline, in prayer and exhortations, being in this like Joshua, as that good man expresses it, viz., “Whatsoever others did, as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” And indeed a blessing waited on his labours and en- deavours ; so that his wife, as the Psalmist says, “was like a pleasant vine upon the wall of his house, and his children like olive- branches round his table ; for so shall it be with the man that fears the Lord ;” and though by reason of the many losses he sustained by imprisonment and spoil, of his chargeable sickness, &c., his earthly treasure swelled not to excess, he always had sufficient to live de- cently and creditably ; and with that he had the greatest of all treasures, which is content: for as the wise man says, “ that is a continual feast.” A CONTINUATION OF MR. BUN VAN'S LIFE. 77 ■Hut where content dwells, even n poor cot- tuge is :i kingly palace; and this happiness he had all his life long, not so much mind- ing this world, as knowing he was here as a pilgrim and stranger, and had no tarrying city, but looked for one not made with hands, eternal in the highest heavens. But at length, worn out with sufferings, age, and often teach- ing, the day of his dissolution drew near; and death, that unlocks the prison of his soul, to enlarge it for a more glorious mansion, put a stop to his acting his part on the stage of mor- tality. Heaven, like earthly princes, when it threatens war, being always so kind as to call home its ambassadors before it be denounced. And even the last act or undertaking of his was a labour of love a,nd charity : for it so fall- ing out, that a young gentleman, a neighbour of Mr. Bunyan’s, happening into the displeas- ure of his father, and being much troubled in his mind upon that account, as also for that he had heard his father purposed to disin- herit him, or otherwise deprive him of what he had to leave, he pitched upon Mr. Bunyan as a lit man to make way for his submission, and prepare his father’s mind to receive him ; and he, as willing to do any good office as it could be requested, as readily undertook it; and so riding to Reading in Berkshire, he there used such pressing arguments and rea- sons against anger and passion, as also for love and reconciliation, that the father was molli- fied, and his bowels yearned towards his re- turning son. But Mr. Bunyan, after he had disposed all things to the best for accommodation, return- ing to London, and being overtaken with ex- cessive rains, coming to his lodging extremely wet, fell sick of a violent fever; which ho bore with much constancy and patience, and expressed himself as if he desired nothing more than to be dissolved, and be with Christ, in that case esteeming death as gain, and life only a tedious delaying felicity expected; and finding his vital strength decay, having settled his mind and affairs, as well as the shortness of time and the violence of his disease, would admit, with a constant and Christian patience, he resigned his soul into the hands of his most merciful Redeemer, following his pilgrimage from the city of Destruction to the New Jeru- salem, his better part having been all along there, in holy contemplation, pantings and breathings after the hidden manna, and water of life, as by many holy and humble consola- tions, expressed in his letters to several persons in prison, and out of prison ; too many to be here inserted at present. He died at the house of one Mr. Straddock, a grocer at the Star on Snowliill, in the parish of St. Sepul- chre, London, on the 12th of August, 168S, and in the 60th year of his age, after ten days’ sickness; and was buried in the new burying- place near the Artillery Ground ; where he sleeps- to the morning of the resurrection, in hopes of a glorious rising to«an incorruptible immortality of joy and happiness, where no more trouble and sorrow shall afflict him, but all tears be wiped away; when the just shall be incorporated as members of Christ their head, and reign with him as kings and priest* for ever. A BRIEF CHARACTER OF MR. JOHN BUNYAN He appeared in countenance to be of a stern and rough temper; but in his conversation mild and affable, not given to loquacity, or much discourse in company, unless some urgent occasion required it; observing never to boast of himself, or his parts, but rather seem low in his own eyes, and 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 revenge injuries, loving to reconcile differences, and make friendships with all. He had a sharp quick eye, accomplished with an excellent discerning of persons, being of good judg- ment and quick wit. As for his person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, though not corpulent, somewhat of a ruddy face, with sparkling eyes, wearing his hair on his upper lip, after the old British fashion; his hair reddish, but in his latter days, time had sprinkled it with grey ; his nose well set, but not declining or bending, and his mouth mod- erately large; his forehead something high, and his habit always plain and modest. And 78 thus have we impartially described the internal and external parts of a person whose death hath been much regretted; a person who had tried the smiles and frowns of time, not puffed up in prosperity, not shaken in adversity, always holding the golden mean. In him at once did three great worthies shine, Historian, poet, and a choice divine: Then let him rest in undisturbed dust. Until the resurrection of the just. P. S. In his pilgrimage God blessed him with four children, one of which, named Mary, was blind, and died some years before. His other children are Thomas, Joseph, and Sarah ; and his wife Elizabeth, having lived to see him overcome his labour and sorrow, and pass from this life to receive the reward of his works, long survived him hot; but in 1692 she died, to follow her faithful Pilgrim from this world to the other, whither he was gone before her, while his works remain for the edifying of the reader, and praise of the author. V ale. MR. JOHN BUNYAN’S DYING SAYINGS, OF SIN. Sin is the great block and bar to our happi- ness, the procurer- of all miseries to man, both here and hereafter. Take away sin, and noth- ing can hurt us ; for death, temporal, spiritual and eternal, is the wages of it. Sin, and man for sin, is the object of the wrath of God. How dreadful therefore must his case be who continues in sin ! for who can bear or grapple with the wrath of God ! No sin against God can be of little; because it is against the great God of heaven and earth ; but if the sinner can find out a little God, it may be easy to find out little sins. Sin turns all God’s grace into wantonness : it is the dare of his justice, the rape of his mercy, the jeer of his patience, the slight of his power, and the contempt of his love. Take heed of giving thyself liberty of com- mitting one sin, for .that will lead thee to another, till by an ill custom it become nat- ural. To begin a sin is to lay a foundation for a continuance: this continuance is the mother of custom, and impudence at last the issue. The death of Christ giveth us the best dis- covery of ourselves, in what condition we were in that nothing could help us but that; and the most clear discovery of the dreadful nature of our sins : for if sin be so dreadful a thing as to wring the heart of the Son of God, how shall a poor wretched sinner be able to bear it? OF AFFLICTION. Nothing can render affliction so insupport- able as the load of sin. Would you therefore be fitted for afflictions? Be sure to get the burden of your sins laid aside, and then what affliction soever you may meet with will be very easy to you. If thou canst hear and bear the rod afflic- tion which God shall lay upon thee, remember this lesson. Thou art beaten that thou mayest be better. The Lord useth his flail of tribulation, to separate the chaff from the wheat. The school of the cross is the school of light ; it discovers the world’s vanity, baseness, and wickedness, and lets us see more of God’s mind. Out of dark affliction comes a spiritual light. In times of affliction we commonly meet with the sweetest experiences of the love of God. Did we heartily renounce the pleasures of this world, we should be very little troubled for our afflictions: that which renders an af- flicted state so insupportable to many, is be- cause they are too much addicted to the pleas- ures of this life, and so cannot endure that which makes a separation between them. OF REPENTANCE AND COMING TO CHRIST. The end of affliction i§ the discovery of sin, and of that to bring us to a Saviour. Let us therefore, with the prodigal, return unto him, and we shall find ease and rest. A repenting penitent, though formerly as bad as the worst of men, may by grace become as good as the best. To be truly sensible of sin, is to sorrow for displeasing of God, to be afflicted that he is displeased by us, more than that he is dis- pleased with us. Your intentions to repentance, aud the neg- lect of that soul-saving duty, will rise up in judgment against you. Repentance carries with it a divine rhetoric, and persuades Christ to forgive multitude of sins committed against him. Say not with thyself, to-morrow I will re- pent ; for it is thy duty to do it daily. The gospel of grace and salvation is above all doctrines the most dangerous, if it be re- ceived in word only by graceless men ; if it be not attended with a sensible need of a Saviour, and bring them to him. For such men as have only the notion of it are of all men most mis- 79 80 B UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. erable ; for by reason of their knowing more than heathens, this shall only be their final portion, that they shall have greater stripes. OF PRAYER. Before you enter into prayer, ask thy soul these questions : 1. To what end, O my soul, art thou retired into this place ? Art thou not come to discourse the Lord in prayer ? Is he present, will he hear thee? Is he merciful, will he help thee? Is thy business slight, is it not concerning the welfare of thy soul ? What words wilt thou ose to move him to compas- sion ? To make thy preparation complete, consider that thou art but dust and ashes, and he the great God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, “ that clothes himself with light as with a gar- ment that thou art a vile sinner, he a holy God ; that thou art but a poor crawling worm, he the omnipotent Creator. In all your prayers forget not to thank the Lord for his mercies. When thou prayest, rather let thy heart be without words, than thy words without a heart. Prayer will make a man cease from sin, or sin will entice a man to cease from prayer. The spirit of prayer is more precious than treasures of gold and silver. Pray often ; for prayer is a shield to the soul, a sacrifice to God, and a scourge for Satan. OF THE LORD’S DAY, SERMONS, AND WEEK-DAYS. Have a special care to sanctify the Lord’s day ; for as thou keepest it, so will it be with thee all the week long. Make the Lord’s day the market for thy soul, let the whole day be spent in prayer, rep- etitions, or meditations; lay aside the affairs the other parts of the week: let the sermon thou hast heard be converted into prayer. Shall God allow thee six days, and wilt not thou afford him one ? In the church be careful to serve God : for thou art in his eyes, and not in man’s. Thou mayest hear sermons often, and do well in practising what thou hearest; but thou must not expect to be told thee in a pulpit all that thou oughtest to do, but be studious in searching the Scriptures, and reading good books. What thou hearest may be forgotten ; but what thou readest may be better retained. Forsake not the public worship of God, lest God forsake thee, not only in public but in private. In the week-days when thou risest in the morning, consider, 1. Thou must die. 2. Thou mayest die that minute. 3. What will become of thy soul. Pray often. At night consider, 1. What sins thou hast committed. 2. How often thou hast prayed. 3. What hath thy mind been bent upon 4. What hath been thy dealing. 5. What thy conversation, fi. If thou callest to mind the errors of the day, sleep not without a confession to God, and a hope of pardon. Thus, every morning and evening, make up thy accounts with Almighty God, and thy reckoning will be the less at last. OF THE LOVE OF THE WORLD. . Nothing more hinders a soul from coming to Christ than a vain love of the world ; and till a soul is freed from it, it can never have a true love for God. What are the honours and riches of this world, when compared to the glories of a crown of life ? Love not the world ; for it is a moth in a Christian’s life. To despise the world, is the way to enjoy heaven ; and blessed are they who delight to converse with God by prayer. What folly can be greater than to labour for the meat that perisheth, and neglect the food of eternal life ? God or the world must be neglected at part- ing-time ; for then is the time of trial. To seek yourself in this world is to he lost ; and to be humble is to be exalted. The epicure that delighteth in the dainties of this world, little thinketh that those very creatures will one day witness against him. OF SUFFERING. It is not every suffering that makes a mar- tyr, but suffering for the word of God after a right manner : that is, not only for righteous- ness, but for righteousness’ sake ; not only for truth, hut out of love to truth ; not only for God’s word, but according to it ; to wit, in that holy, humble, meek manner, as the word of God requireth. It is a rare thing to suffer aright, and to have thy spirit in suffering bent only against God’s enemy, sin ; sin in doctrine, sin in wor- ship, sin in life, and sin in conversation. The devil, nor men of the world, can kill MR. JOHN BUSY AN lli v righteousness, or lovo to it; but by thy own luuul; or separate that and thee asunder without thy own act. Nor will he that doth indeed suffer for the sake of it, or out of love he bears thereto, be tempted to exchange it for the good will of all the world. I have often thought, that the best of Chris- tians are found in the worst of times; and I have thought again, that one reason why we are no better is because God purges us no more. Noah and Lot, who so holy as they in the time of their afllictions ? And yet who so idle as they in the time of their prosperity? OF DEATH AND JUDGMENT. As the devil labours by all means to keep out other things that are good, so to keep out of the heart as much as in him lies, the thoughts of passing from this life into another world ; for he knows, if he can but keep them from the serious thoughts of death, he shall the more easily keep them in their sins. Nothing will make us more earnest in working out the work of our salvation, than a frequent meditation of mortality ; nothing hath greater influence for the taking off our hearts from vanities, and for the begetting in us desires after holiness. O sinner, what a condition wilt thou fall into when thou departest this world, if thou depart unconverted! Thou hadst better have been smothered the first hour thou wast born ; thou hadst better have been plucked one limb from another; thou hadst better have been made a dog, a toad, a serpent, than to die un- converted : and this thou wilt find true if thou repent not. A man would be counted a fool to slight a judge before whom he is to have a trial of his whole estate. The trial we have before God is of otherwise importance ; it concerns our eter- nal happiness or misery ; and yet dare w r e af- front him ? The only way for us to escape that terrible judgment, is to be often passing a sentence of condemnation upon ourselves here. When the sound of the trumpet shall be heard, which shall summon the dead to appear before the tribunal of God, the righteous shall hasten out of their graves, with joy, to meet their Redeemer in the clouds ; others shall call to the hills and mountains to fall upon them, to cover them from the sight of their Judge. G •S DYING SAYINGS 8] Let us therefore in time he posing ourselves which of the two we shall be. OF THE JOYS OF HEAVEN. There is no good in this life but what is mingled with some evil. Honours perplex, riches disquiet, and pleasures ruin health. But in heaven we shall find blessings in their pur- ity, without any ingredient to embitter, with every thing to sweeten them. Oh ! who is able to conceive the inexpress- ible, inconceivable joys that are there? None but they who have tasted of them. Lord, help us to put such a value upon them here, that in order to prepare ourselves for them, we may be willing to forego the loss of all those deluding pleasures here. How will the heavens echo of joy, when the bride, the Lamb’s wife, shall come to dwell with her husband for ever ! Christ is the desire of nations, the joy of an- gels, the delight of the Father. What solace then must that soul be filled with, that hath the possession of him to all eternity ! Oh ! what acclamations of joy will there be when all the children of God shall meet to- gether, without fear of being disturbed by the antichristian and Cainish brood ! Is there not a time coming when the godly may ask the wicked, What profit they have in their pleasure? What comfort in their great- ness? And what fruit in all their labour? If you would be better satisfied what the beatifical vision means, my request is, that you live holily, and go and see. OF THE TORMENTS OF HELD. Heaven and salvation is not surely more promised to the godly, than hell and damnation is threatened to, and shall be executed on, the wicked. When once a man is damned, he may bid adieu to all pleasures. Oh ! who knows the power of God's wrath ? None but damned ones. Sinners’ company are the devil and his an- gels, tormented in everlasting fire with a curse. Ilell would be a kind of paradise, if it were no worse than the worst of this world. As different as grief is from joy, as torment from rest, as terror from peace, so different is the state of sinners from that of saints in the world to come. POSTSCRIPT. BY ROBERT PHILIP. Bctnyan’s liberation from prison was ob- tained from Charles II. by Whitehead the Quaker. This discovery was not made when I published his life in 1839. On his release, he soon became one of the most popular preachers of the day, and was, if not the chap- lain, “the Teacher” of Sir John Shorter, the Mayor of London. — Southey’s Life. But although free and popular, Bunyan evidently dreaded every new crisis in public affairs. He had reason to do so. Venner’s conspiracy had increased the severity of his first six years’ imprisonment. On the occa- sion of the Fire in London, he was thrown into prison again. And soon after James II. came to the throne, in 1685, Bunyan conveyed the whole of his property to his wife, by a singular Deed, which can only be accounted for by his suspicions of James and Jeffreys, and by his horror at the revocation of the Edict of Nantz. The asylum which the Refugees found in England did not prove to him that he was safe. No wonder. “Kirke and his lambs” were abroad, and the Bedford justices still in power. It was under these suspicious circumstances that he divested himself of all his property, in order to save his family from want, should he again be made a victim. These coincidences give peculiar interest to the Deed of Con- veyance ; a fac-simile of which, from the origirfal, is now presented to the public. The history of its transmission I am unable to give. There is, however, not the shadow of a doubt resting upon its authenticity. Bunyan’s own signature is unquestionable. I have been able also to verify that by the Instrument in which Ruffhead conveyed to Bunyan the ground on which his chapel was built. The original is now endorsed on the back thus : “This Will is left by indenture hereunto subscribed, to the Rev. Samuel Hillyard, Minister of Bunyan’s Meeting, to be presented to the Trustees of the said Meeting, to be held by them in continu- 82 ance. Dated this 26th day of October, 1832. Bedford. Witness, A. Brandram, Secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society; G. P. Livius ; J. S. Grimsliaw, Vicar of Biddenharn.” “ According to the above statement, this writ- ing of John Bunyan’s was put into my hand at the death of Mrs. Livius, and it is my wish that it should be attached to the Church Book. Samuel Hillyard.” “ Witness, Robert Philip, Author of the Life and Times of Bunyan ; William White, Bookseller. Bedford, October 30th, 1838.” Mrs. Livius, if not a descendant, was, I think, in some way related to the Bun- yan family. It will be seen that the Deed would not have secured the entire property to Mrs. Bun- yan. It shows, however, Bunyan’s solicitude for her comfort, and his confidence in her pru- dence. And his Elizabeth well deserved both ! Whatever Bunyan may have feared when he thus disposed of all the little property he had, nothing befell him under James II. He published “The Pharisee and Publican” in 1685, the year of the king’s accession, and in 1688, Charles Doe says, “he published six Books (being the time of King James II. ’s Liberty of Conscience).” This appears from Doe’s List. It throws also much light upon Bunyan’s death. Such labour could not fail to sap his strength, even if he did nothing but carry the six books through the press; for none of them are small except the last. The usual account of Bunyan’s death, is, that he caught cold, whilst returning from Reading to London on horseback. . Violent fever ensued, and after an illness of ten days, he resigned his spirit. Now all this is as true as it is brief; but it is not all the truth. “He was seized with a sweating distemper,” says Doe, “after he published six books; which, after some weeks’ going about, proved his death.”— Doc’s Circular. This fact was not known even to his first biographer. The Sketch in the British Museum states, that “ taking a tedious journey POSTSCRIPT. 83 in a slabby rainy day, and returning late to London, lie was entertained by one Mr. Strud- wick, a grocer on Snow Ilill, with all the kind endearments of a loving friend ; but soon found himself indisposed with a kind of shaking , as it were an ague, which increasing to a kind of fever, he took to his bed, where, growing worse, he found he had not long to last in this world, and therefore prepared himself for another, towards which lie had been journeying as a Pilgrim and Stranger upon earth, the prime of his' days.”— P. 35. The occasion of his journey to Reading, which has always been called “ a labour of love and charity,” will now be more interesting than it hitherto has been. It was not under- taken by a man in health; but by an over- wrought author, sinking under “a sweating distemper.” Mr. Ivimey’s account of Run- yan's errand being the best, I quote it: “ The last act of his life was a labour of love and charity. A young gentleman, a neighbour of Mr. Bunyan, falling under his father’s dis- pleasure, and being much troubled in mind on that account, and also from hearing it was his father’s design to disinherit him, or otherwise deprive him of what he had to leave, he pitched upon Mr. Bunyan as a fit man to make way for his submission, and prepare his mind to receive him ; which he being willing to undertake any good office, readily engaged in, and went to Reading, in Berkshire, for that purpose. There he so successfully accomplished his "design, by using such pressing arguments and reason against anger and passion, and also for love and reconciliation, that the father’s heart was softened, and his bowels yearned over his son. “ After Mr. Bunyan had disposed everything in the best manner to promote an accommoda- tion, as he returned to London on horseback, he was overtaken with excessive rains, and coming to his lodgings extremely wet, lie fell sick of a violent fever, which he b.*re with much constancy and patience : and expressed himself as if he wished nothing more than to depart and to be with Christ, considering it-as gain, and life only a tedious delay of expected felicity. Finding his strength decay, he settled his wordly affairs as well as the shortness of the time and the violence of the disorder would permit; and, after an illness of ten days, with unshaken confidence, he resigned his soul, on the 31st of August, 1688, being sixty years of age, into the hands of his most merciful Re- deemer; following his Pilgrim from the City of Destruction to the New Jerusalem, his bet- ter part having been all along there in holy contemplations, pantings, and breathings after the hidden manna and the water of life.” His tomb is in Bunhill Fields. His cottage at Elstow, although somewhat modernized, is substantially as he left it. His chair, jug, Book of Martyrs, Church Book, and some other relics, arc carefully preserved at his chapel in Bedford ; and best of all, his catholic spirit also is preserved there. - ■ THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. FROM THIS WORLD TO THAT WHICH IS TO COME. DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILITUDE OF A DREAM. IN TWO PARTS. THE AUTHOR’S APOLOGY. When at the first I took my pen in hand, Thus for to write, I did not understand That I at all should make a little book In such a mode; nay, I had undertook To make another; which, when almost done, Before I was aware, I thus begun. And thus it was: I writing of the way And race of saints in this our gospel-day, Fell suddenly into an allegory, About their journey, and the way to glory, In more than twenty things, which I set down : This done, I twenty more had in my crown, And they again began to multiply, Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, I’ll put you by yourselves, lest you at last, Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out The book that 1 already am about. Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think To show to all the world my pen and ink In such a mode; I only thought to make I knew not what; nor did I undertake Thereby to please my neighbour ; no, not I, I did it my own self to gratify. Neither did I but vacant seasons spend In this my scribble ; nor did I intend But to divert myself in doing this, From worser thoughts, which made me do amiss. Thus I set pen to paper with delight, And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. For having now my method by the end, Still as I pull’d it came; and so I penn’d It down, until at last it came to be, For length and breadth, the bigness which you see. Well, when I had put my ends together, I show’d them others, that I might see whether 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 Which was the best thing to be done by me ; At last I thought, since you are thus divided, I print it will ; and so the case decided. For thought I, some I see would have it done, Though others in that channel do not run. To prove then who advised for the best, Thus I thought fit to put it to the test. I farther thought, if now I did deny Those that would have it, to gratify, I did not know, but hinder them I might Of that which would to them be great delight; For those which were not for its coining forth, I said to them, Offend you I am loth: Yet since your brethren pleased with it be, Forbear to judge till you do further see. If that you would not read, let it alone; Some love the meat, some to pick a bone; Yea, that I might them 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 spews out both, and makes their blessing null. You see the ways the fisherman doth take To catch the fish ? what engines doth he make ? 85 86 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 he 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. If that a pearl may on a toad’s head dwell, And may be found too in an oyster shell ; If things that promise nothing, do contain What better is than gold ; who will disdain, That have an inkling of it, there to look That they may find it! Now my little book (Tho’ 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 dwell. Well, yet I am not fully satisfied, That this your book will stand, when soundly tried. Why, what’s the matter? It is dark. What though ? But it is feigned. What of that ? I trow, Some men, by feigned words as dark as mine, Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine ! But they want solidness : speak, man, thy mind ; They drown the weak ; metaphors make us blind. Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen Of him that writeth things divine to men : But must I needs want solidness, because By metaphors I speak? Were not God’s laws, His gospel laws, in 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 wisdom : No; he rather stoops, And seeks to find out what by pins and loops, By calves and sheep, by heifers and by rams, By birds and herbs, and by the blood of lambs, God speaketh to him ; and 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 show not solid be: All things in parables despise not we, Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive, And things that good are of our souls bereave. My dark and cloudy words they do but hold The truth, as cabinets enclose the gold. The prophets used much by metaphors To set forth truth ; yea, whoso considers Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see, That truths to this day in such mantles be. I am afraid 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 him 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 will 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 understanding, 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 grave Paul him no where did forbid The use of parables ; in which lay hid That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were Worth digging for, and that with greatest care. Let me add one word more : 0 man of God, . Art thou offended ? Dost thou wish I had Put forth my matter in another dress? Or that I had in things been more express ? To those that are m} r 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 figures 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 to, and that from them that have God better pleased, by 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 ways; yet no man doth them slight For writing so : indeed if they abuse Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use To that intent ; hut yet let truth be free To make her sallies upon thee and me, Which way it pleases God ; for who knows how Better than he that taught us first to plough, To guide our minds and pens for his design? And he makes base things usher in divine. T1IE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. *7 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 1 may then, and yet nothing smother Truth’s golden beams; nay, by this method may Make it east forth its rays as light as day. And now before I do put up mv pen, I’ll show 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 shows you whence he comes, whither he goes: What he leaves undone, also what he does: It shows you how he runs and runs, Till he unto the gate of glory comes. It shows, too, who set out for life amain, As if the lasting crown they would obtain: Here also you may see the reason why They lose their 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 sec 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 burrs, And may be to the helpless comforters. This book .s 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 thyself from melancholy? Wouldst thou be pleasant, yet be far from folly? Wouldst thou read riddles, and their explanation? Or else be drowned in thy contemplation? Dost thou love picking meat? Or wouldst thou see A man i’ th’ clouds, and hear him speak to thee? 'Wouldst thou be in a dream, and yet not sleep? Or wouldst thou in a moment laugh and weep? Or wouldst thou lose thyself, and catch no harm And find thyself again without a charm ? Wouldst read thyself, and read thou know’st not what, And yet know whether thou art bless’ d or not, By reading the same lines? Oh then come hither I And lay my book, thy head, and heart together. JOHN BUN Y AN. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS, PART I. CHAPTER I. The Author’s imprisonment and dream — Christian convinced 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.” Isa. lxiv. 6; Luke xiv. 33; Ps. xxxviii. 4; Heb. ii. 2; Acts xvi. 31. I looked, and saw him open the book and read therein; and as he read he wept and trembled; and, not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lament- able cry,f saying, “What shall I do?” Acts ii. 37. In this plight, therefore, he -went home, and refrained himself as long as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his dis- tress ; but he could not be silent long, because * Mr. Bunyan wrote this precious book in Bedford jail, where he was confined for preaching the Gospel, as a nonconformist, or dissenter. To this he refers when he speaks of the “den.” The Lord frequently causes “the wrath of man to praise him.” The ser- vants of Christ, when restrained by penal laws, from publishing the word of life from the pulpit, have be- come more abundantly useful by their writings. < ■(• The cry of an awakened sinner, who sees his own righteousness to be as filthy rags, his soul in a state of wrath and wretchedness, exposed to everlasting destruction, feeling the burden of his sins upon his back, he turns his face from his own house, from him- self, from all his false hopes and vain confidences, for refuge, and takes his Bible in his hand to direct him where he shall flee for safety and salvation. The more a sinner reads therein, the more he is convinced of the wretched state and ruined condition of his precious, immortal soul, and of his necessity of flee- ing to Christ for eternal life and salvation. As he 88 that his trouble increased ; wherefore at length he brake his mind to his wife and children ; and thus he began to talk to them: “0 my dear wife,” said he, “and you, the children of my bowels, I your dear friend am in myself undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me : moreover I am certainly informed that this our city will be burned with fire from heaven : in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall miser- ably come to ruin, except (the which yet I see not) some way of escape may be found, whereby we may be delivered.” At this his relations were sore amazed ; i not for that they believed that what he had said to them was true, but because they thought some frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore, it drawing towards night, and they liopting that sleep might settle his brains, with all haste they got reads, he weeps and trembles to think what will be- come of him. Reader, was this ever your case? Did you ever see your sins, and feel the burden of them, so as to cry out, in the anguish of your soul, What must I do to be saved? If not, you will look on this precious book as a romance, or history, which no way concerns you; you can no more understand the'mean- ing of it, than if it was wrote in an unknown lan- guage: for 3'ou are yet carnal, dead in your sins, lying in the arms of the wicked one in false security. But this book is spiritual; it can only be understood by spiritualty quickened souls, who have experienced that, salvation in the heart which begins with a sight of sin, a sense of sin, a fear of destruction, and dread of damnation. Such, and only such, commence Pil- grims from the city of Destruction to the heavenly kingdom. J Conviction of sin in the heart, will discover itself to those about us, by the outward conduct aDd beha- viour of the life. s- . THE 1TLC, RIM’S PROGRESS. him to bed;* but the night was as troublesome to him iuj the day; wherefore, instead of sleep- ing, he spent it in sighs and tears. So when the morning was come they would know how he did: he told them, “ Worse and worse.” He also set to talking with them again, but they began to be hardened. They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh and surly carriage to him; sometimes they would deride, sometimes they would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him. Wherefore he began to retire himself to his chamber, to pray for and pity them ; and also to condole his own misery, lie would also walk solitarily in the fields, sometimes reading and sometimes pray- ing; and thus for some days he spent his time. Now I saw, upon a time when he was walk- ing in the fields, that he was (as he was wont) reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his mind ; and as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, “ What shall I do to be saved ?”f Acts xvi. 30, 31. I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would run ; yet he stood still, because (as I perceived) he could not tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him ; and he asked, “ Wherefore dost thou cry?” j He answered : Sir, I perceive by the book in my hand that I am condemned to die, and 89 after that to come to judgment; and I find that I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second. || llcb. ix. 27; Job xvi. 21, 22 : E/.ek. xxii. 14. Then said Evangelist, Why not willing to die, since this life is attended with so many evils? The man answered, Because I fear that this burden that is upon my back \ will sink me lower than the grave, and I shall fall into Tophd. Isa. xxx. 33. And, sir, if I be not fit to go to prison, I am not fit to go to judgment, and from thence to execution : and the thoughts of these things make me cry. Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condi- tion, why standest thou still? lie 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.” Matt. iii. 7. The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist, very carefully, said, Whither must I flee? Then said Evangelist, pointing with his finger over a very wide field, Do you see yonder Wicket-gate? Matt. vii. 13, 14. The man said, No. Then said the other, Do you see yonder shining light?** Ps. cxix. 105; 2 Pet. i. 16. lie said, I think I do. Then said Evangelist, Keep that light in thine eye, and go up directly thereto, so shalt thou s.ee the gate ; at which when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt do. CHAPTER II. Christian proceeds — Obstinate refuses to accompany him — Pliable goes as far as the slough and returns. 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) * When we begin to be wise unto salvation, carnal friends pronounce us mad unto destruction : and ad- minister carnal medicine for our sin-siek souls. ■f No soul was ever in earnest for salvation, till there is a cry in his heart to be saved from the wrath of an offended God. J 13. hold here the tender love and care of Jesus, the great 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 salva- tion, to them. || A true confession of an enlightened, sensible sin- ner. 2 The convictions of the Spirit of God in the heart, I began to cry after him to return, (Luke xiv. 26 ;) but the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on crying, ,; Life! life! eternal life!” So he make a man feel the insupportable burden of sin upon his back, and to dread the wrath of God revealed from heaven against sin. The Gospel never leaves the convinced sinner in the miserable situation in which it finds him, without hope and relief; but points him to Jesus for safety and salvation, 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. Christ, and the way to him, cannot be found with- out the word. The word directs to Christ, and the Spirit shines into the heart, whereby the sinner sees Christ in the word. This makes God’s word pre- cious. 90 B UKYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. looked not behind him, (Gen. xix. 17 ; 2 Cor. iv. 18,) but fled towards the middle of the plain.* The neighbours also came out to seef him run : and, as he run, some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return ; and among those that did so, there were two that \fere 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, how- ever, they were resolved to pursue him ; which they did, and in a little time they overtook him Then said the man, Neighbours, where- fore are ye come? They said, To persuade you to go back with us ; but he said, That can by no means be ; you dwell, said he, in the city of Destruction ; the place also where I was born ; I see it to be so ; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the grave into a place that burns with fire and brimstone : be content, good neighbours, and go along with me.$ What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts behind us ! Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name,) because that all which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that I am seeking to enjoy, and if you will go along with me, ai\d hold it, you shall fare as I myself; for there where I go is enough, and to spare, (Luke xv. 17 ;) come away, and prove my words. Obstinate. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to find them? Christian. I seek an “ inheritance incorrupt- ible, un defiled, and that fadeth not away; and it is laid up in heaven,” (1 Pet. i. 4, 6 ; Pleb. xi. 6, 16 ;) and safe there, to be bestowed at the time appointed on them that diligently seek it. Read it so if you will in my book. Tush ! said Obstinate ! away with your book; will you go back with us or no ? No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the plough. Luke ix. 62. Obstinate. Come then, neighbour Pliable, let * When a sinner begins to fly from destruction, car- nal relations will strive to prevent him ; but it is wiser to stop our ears against the reasonings of flesh and blood, than to parley with them. Carnal affections cannot prevail over spiritual convictions. The sinner who is in earnest for salvation, will be deaf to invita- tions to go hack. The more he is solicited by them, the faster he will fly from them. + lie who flics from the wrath' to come, and leads a life of righteousness, is a gazing stock to the w rid. f The genuine spirit of a sinner, convinced of sin us turn again and go home without him; there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than seven men that can render a reason. Then said Pliable, Don’t revile ; if what the good Christian says is true, the things he looks after are better than ours ; my heart inclines to go with my neighbour. Obstinate. What ! more fools still ? be ruled by me, and go back ; who knows whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you? Go back, go back, and be wise.|| Christian. Nay, but do thou come with thy 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 ex- pressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of him that made it. Heb ix. 17, 22. Well, neighbour Obstinate, saitli Pliable, I begin to come to a point ; I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him ; but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place? Christian. I am directed by a man, whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a little gate that is before us, where we shall receive in- structions about the way. Pliable. Come then, good neighbour, let us be going. Then they went both together. And I will go back to my place, said Obsti- nate ; I will be no companion of such misled fantastical fellows. $ Now I saw in my dream, that when Obsti- nate was gone back, Christian and Pliable went talking over the plain ; and thus they began their discourse. Christian. 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 I have felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus lightly have given us the back. and fleeing from destruction. He would gladly per- suade other poor sinners to go with him. The least spark of grace from God in the heart discovers itself in good will to man. || He who never became a fool in the eyes of the world for Christ, is not yet made wise unto salvation through the faith of Christ. jl Here sec the different effects which Gospel truths have upon natural men. Obstinate totally rejects them. Pliable hears of them with joy, believes some- what of them for a season, and accompanies Christian a little way. T1IE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Pliable. Conic, neighbour Christian, since there is none but us two here, tell me now fur- ther what the tilings are, and how to bo en- joyed, whither we are going. Christian. I can better conceive of them with my mind than speak of them with my tongue; but yet since you are desirous to know, I will read of them in my book. Pliable. And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true? Christian. Yes, verily, for it was made by him that cannot lie. Tit. i. 2. Pliable. Well said; what things are they ? Christian. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life to be given us that we may inhabit that kingdom for ever. Isa. xlv. 17 ; John x. 27, 29. Pliable. Well said ; and what else? Christian. There are crowns of glory to be given us and garments that will make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven. 2 Tim. iv. 8; Rev. xxii. 5; Matt. xiii. 43. Pliable. This is very pleasant; and what else? Christian. There shall be no more crying nor sorrow ; for he that is owner of the place will wipe all tears from our eyes. Isa. xxv. 8; Rev. vii. 16, 17 ; xxi. 4. Pliable. And what company shall we have there ? Christian. There we shall be with seraphims and clierubims, creatures that will dazzle your eyes to look on them. Isa. vi. 2 ; 1 Tliess. iv. 16, 17. There also you shall meet with.thou- sands and tens of thousands that have gone before us to that place ; none of them are hurt- ful, but loving and holy ; every one walking in the sight of God, and standing in his presence with acceptance for ever. In a word, there we shall see the elders with their golden crowns, (Rev. iv. 4;) there we shall see holy virgins with their golden harps, (Rev. xiv. 1,5;) there we shall see men that by the world were cut in. pieces, burnt in flames, eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love that they bare to the Lord of the place, all well, and * Here see the fleshly joys and flashy eoml'orts 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. They receive the word with joy ; the word hath no root in their hearts: they believe awhile; but in times of temptation fall away. Luke viii. 15. So did Pliablo at the slough of Despond. This signifies those desponding fears, and despairing doubts which beset us, arising from uubclief of (rod’s word, the sug- gestions of Satan, and tho carnal reasonings of our corrupt nature, against the revealed truths, and pre- 91 clothed with immortality as with a garment. John xii. 25; 2 Cor. v. 2, 4. Pliable. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one’s heart; but are these things to be enjoyed? how shall we get to be sharers thereof? Christian. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath recorded that in this book ; the substance of which is, if we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon us freely. Isa. Iv. 1, 3; John vi. 37 ; Rev. xxi. 6; xxii. 17. Pliable. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things ; come on, let us mend our pace.* Christian. 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 De- spond. 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 you now ? Truly, said Christian, I do not know’. At that Pliable began to be offended, and • angrily said to his fellow', Is this the happi- ness you have told me all this while of? If w r e have such ill speed at our first setting out, W’hat may we expect betw’ixt this and our jour- ney’s end? May I get out again with my life, you shall possess the brave country alone for me : And W'ith that he gave a desperate strug- gle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the slough which was next his own house : so away he went and Christian saw’ him no more.f Wherefore Christian was' left to tumble in the slough of Despond alone ; but still he en- deavoured to struggle to that side of the slough that was furthest from his own house, and next to the Wicket-gate ; X the which he did, but could not get out because of the burden that cious promises of God. These try the reality of our convictions, and the sincerity of our faith. f It is not enough to be pliable ; for the first trial he met with cooled his courage, damped his joy, killed his faith, and sent him back to the city of Destruc- tion. J Christian, in trouble, seeks still to get farther from his own house. See the difference between a truly convinced sinner, and a pliable, unconverted professor ; one keeps his face towards Christ for hope and help; the other flies back for comfort to the city of Destruction. 92 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. was upon his back. But I beheld, in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help,* and asked him, What he did there? Sir, said Christian, I was hid to go this way by a man, called Evangelist, who directed me a'so to yonder gate, that I might escape the v rath to come : and as I was going thither I fell in h re. Help. But why did you not look for the steps ? f Christian. Fear followed me so hard, that I 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. Ps. xl. 2. Then I stepped to him that plucked him out and said : Sir, wherefore, since over this place is the way from the city of Destruction to yonder gate, is it that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go thither with more security? and he said unto me, This miry slough is such a place as cannot be mended : it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it was called the slough of De- spond : for still as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there arise in his soul many fears and doubts, and discouraging apprehen- sions, which all of them get together, and set- tle in this place : And this is the reason of the badness of this ground. It is not the pleasure of the king that this place should remain so bad, (Isa. xxxw 3, 4;) his labourers also have, by the direction of his majesty’s surveyors, been for above these six- teen hundred years employed about this patch iS The arm of Christ’s omnipotent grace, reacheth forth to snatch poor sinners from destruction ; for he says to them, “ Thou hast destroyed thyself, but in me is thine help.” Jlosea xiii. 9. f The great and precious promises of God, which arc in Christ Jesus, to poor, needy and distressed sin- ners. J Signifying, that there is nothing but despondency nnd despair in the fallen nature of sinful man; the best that we can do, leaves us in the slough of De- spond as to any hopes in ourselves. 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 whole- some instructions, that have at all seasons been brought from all places of the king’s domin- ions, (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.J 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 tioes much spew out its filth, as it doth against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen ; or if they be, men through the dizziness of their heads step beside ; and then they are bemired to pur- pose, notwithstanding the steps be there ; but the ground is good when they are once got in at the gate. || 1 Sam. xii. 22. 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 called him wise man for coming back ; ' and some called him fool for hazarding him- self with Christian ; others again did mock at his cowardliness ; $ saying, “Surely, since you began to venture, I would not have been so base to have given out for a few difficulties;” so Pliable sat sneaking among them. But at last he got more confidence ; and then they all turned their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back. And thus much concerning Pliable. || That is the Lord Jesus Christ. AVe never find good ground, nor safe sounding, nor comfortable walk- ing till we enter into possession of Christ by faith, and till our feet are set upon Him, who is the Rock of Ages. They who tiffed to despise real Christians, often both express and feel great contempt for those that cast off their profession: such men are unable, for a time, to resume their wonted confidence among their former companions; and this excites them to pay court to them by reviling and deriding those whom they have forsaken. T1IE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 93 CHAPTER III. Christian deceived, by the advice of Mr. Worldly-wiseman, turns out of the way, tnd is greatly alarmed; but happily meeting with Evangelist, returns to the right path, and pro- ceeds 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 crossing 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 ;) Sir. 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. Worldly-wiseman. How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened manner? Christian. A burdened manner indeed, as ever, I think, poor creature had ! And where- as you asked me, whither away? I tell you, sir, I am going to yonder Wicket-gate before me; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put in a way to be rid of my heavy burden. Worldly-wiseman. Hast thou a wife and children ? Christian. Yes ; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that pleasure in them as formerly : methinks I am as if I had none. 1 Cor. vii. 29. Wor/dly-tviseman. Wilt thou hearken to me if I give thee counsel? Christian. If it be good, I will; for I stand in need of good counsel. Worldly-wiseman. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself rid of thy burden ; for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then, nor canst thou enjoy the bene- fits of the blessings which God hath bestowed upon thee till then. Christian. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden ; but get * A glimpse of tho Wicket-gate, or of deliverance f om the guilt of sin by Christ, will make the sinner reject all other ways, and press on towards Christ only. it off myself I cannot; nor is there any man in our country that can take it off my shoul- ders ; therefore am I going this way as I told you, that I may be rid of my burden.* Worldly-wiseman. Who bid you go this way to be rid of your burden ? Christian. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honourable person; liis name, as I remember, is Evangelist. Worldly-wiseman. Beshrew him for his coun- sel ; there is not a more dangerous and trouble- some 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 with something, as I perceive, already; for I see the dirt of the slough of Despond is upon thee; but that slough is the beginning of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way. Hear me ; I am older than thou ; thou art like to meet with, on the way which thou goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hun- ger, perils, nakedness, sword, lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what not ! These things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies. And why should a man so carelessly cast away himself by giving heed to a stranger? Christian. Why, sir, this burden upon my back is more terrible to me than are all these things which you have mentioned ; nay, me- thinks I care not what I meet with in my way, if so be I can also meet with deliverance from my burden. f Worldly-wiseman. How earnest thou by the burden at first ? Christian. By reading this book in my hand. Worldly-wiseman.% I thought so ; and it has happened unto thee as to other weak men, who meddling with things too high for them, do suddenly fall into thy distractions ; which distractions do not only unman men, (as thine I perceive have done thee,) but they run them upon desperate ventures, to obtain they know not what. f Such is the frame of the heart of a real penitent. J Mr. Worldly-wiseman does not like that men should be serious in reading the Bible. 94 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Christian. I know what I would obtain ; it is ease from my heavy burden. Worldly-wiseman. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers attend it? Especially since, hadst thou hut patience to hear me, I could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without tlm dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into. Yea, and the remedy is at hand. Besides I will add, that instead of these dan- gers, thou shalt meet with much safety, friend- ship, and content. Christi in. Sir, I pray, open this secret to me. Worldiy-vnseman. 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 off with such bur- dens as thine is from their shoulders ; yea, to my knowledge, he hath done a great deal of good this way : ay, and besides, he hath skill to cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens.* To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently. His house is not quite a mile from this place; and if he should not be at home himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is Civility, that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself. There, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not minded to go back to thy former habitation, as indeed I would not wish thee, thou mayest send for thy wife and 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 presently he concluded, if this be true which this gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take his advice ; and with that he thus further spake. Christian. Sir, which is my way to this hon- est man’s house ? * Mr. Worldly-wiseman prefers Morality to Christ, the Strait date. This ip the exact reasoning of the flesh. Carnal reason ever opposes spiritual truth. The notion of justification by our own obedience to God’s law, ever works in us, contrary to the law of justification by the obedience of Christ and living faith in his blood. Self-righteousness is as contrary to tho faith of Christ as indulging the lusts of the flesh. Worldly-wiseman. Do you see yonder high hill? Christian. Yes, very well. Worldly-wiseman. By that hill you must go, and the first house you come at is his. So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr. Legality’s house for help.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 wayside did hang so much over, that Christian was afraid to ventixre further, lest the hill should fall on his head ; wherefore there he stood still, and wotted not what to do. Also his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was in the way. There came also flashes of fire out of the hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burned, (Exod. xix. 16, 18 ; Heb. xii. 21 ;) here there- fore 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 J coming to meet him ; at the sight also of whom he began to blush for shame. So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer ; and, coming up to him, he looked upon him with a severe and dreadful countenance, and thus began to reason with Christian. What dost thou here, Christian? said he. At which words Christian knew not what to answer ; wherefore at present he stood speech- less before him. Then said Evangelist further, Art thou not the man that I found crying without the walls of the city of Destruc- tion ? Christian. Yes, dear sir, I am the man. Evangelist. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicket-gate ? Yes, dear sir, said Christian. ’ Evangelist . How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside? for thou art now out of the way. Christian. I met with a gentleman, as soon as I had got over the slqugh of De«pond, who persuaded me that I might in the village be- fore me find a man that could take off my bur- den. Evangelist. What was he ? j- And a sad turn it proved to him ; for he turned from the work of Christ, for his salvation, to his own works and obedience; so did the Galatians of old. Mark the consequence : Christian is afraid that Mount Sinai, all the dreadful curses of the law, would fall on his head. J Evangelist findeth Christian under Mount Sinai, and looketh severely upon him. See the effect of dis- obeying the Gospel. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 95 Christian. lie looked like n gentleman,* and talked much to me, and got me at last to yield ; ho I came hither: but when I beheld this hill, and how it hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it should fall on my head. Evangelist. What said that gentleman to you ? Christian, lie asked me if I had a family; and I told him. But said I, I am so loaded with the burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure in them as formerly. Evangelist. And what said he then? Christian. lie 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 lie said that he would show me a better way, and shorter, not so attended with difficulties as the way, sir, that you set me in ; which way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman’s house that has skill to take off these burdens : so I be- lieved him,f and turned out of that way into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my burden. But when I came to this place, and beheld things as they are, T stopped for fear as I said, of danger ; but now know not what to do. Then, said Evangelist, stand still a little that I may show thee the words of God. So he stood trembling. Then said Evangelist, “See that ye refuse not him that speaketh; for if they escaped not who refused him that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape if we turn away from him that speaketh from heav- en.” Ileb. xii. 25. He said, moreover, “Now the just shall live by faith ; but if any man draw back, my soul shall have no pleasure in him.” Heb. x. 38. He also did thus apply them : Thou art the man that art running into this misery ; thou hast begun to reject Ihe counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the way of peace ; even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition. J Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, * I5e Ware of taking men by their looks. They may look as gentle as lambs, while the poisou of asps is under their tongues; whereby they infect, many souls «ith 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. t As the belief of truth lies at the foundation of the hope of eternal life, and is the cause of any one be- coming a pilgrim; so the belief of a lie is the cause of any oue’s turning out of the way which leads to glory. J Sec the danger of turning from the faith of Christ to trust in any degree to our own works for justifica- crying, “Woe is me, for I am undone !” Al 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.|| 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 Wordly-wiseman, and rightly he is so called ; partly because he savoureth only the doctrine of this world, (John iv. 5,) therefore he always goes to the town of Morality to church, and partly because he loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross, (Gal. vi. 12,) and because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to pervert my ways, though right. Now there are three things in this man’s counsel that thou must utterly abhor : 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 lcadeth unto the ministration of death . \ First. Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way, yea, and thine own consenting thereto ; because this is to reject the counsel of God for the sake of the counsel of a worldhj- iv ke 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.” Luke xiii. 25 ; Matt. vii. 13, 14. From this little Wicket- gate, and from the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to destruction. Hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him. Secondly. Thou must abhor his labouring to render the cross odious unto thee ; for thou art tion anil eternal life. Beware of legal teachers anil of thy own legal spirit. || See the glory of Gospel grace to sinners. See the amazing love of Christ in dying for sinners. Oh remember the price with which Christ obtained the pardon of your sins : at nothing less th u his own most precious blood ! Believe his wonderful love. Rejoice in his glorious salvation. Live in the love of him. 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 le- gality, or trusts in anv^lependence upon our own works for justification. This detestable heresy abounds greatly in the present day. 96 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to “ prefer it before the treasures in Egypt.” Ileb. xi. 25, 26. Besides, the King of Glory hath told thee, that “ he that will save his life shall lose it and, “ He that comes after me, and hates not his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own life also, cannot be my disciple.” Matt x. 37, 39 ; Mark viii. 34, 35 ; Luke xiv. 26, 27 ; John xii. 25. I say, therefore, for a man to labour to persuade thee that that shall be thy death, without which the truth hath said thou canst not have eternal life ; this doc- trine thou must abhor. Thirdly. Thou must hate his setting of 'thy feet in the way that leadeth to the ministra- tion of death. And for this thou must con- sider to whom he sent thee, and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from thy burden. He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is “the son of the bond- woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children,” (Gal. iv. 21, 27 ;) and is, in a mystery, .this Mount Sinai which thou hast feared will fall on thy head. Now if she with her children are in bondage, how canst thou expect by them to be made free? This Legal- ity therefore, is not able to set thee free from thy burden. No man was as yet ever rid of his burden by him ; no, nor ever is like to be. “Ye cannot be justified by the works of the law ; for by the deeds of the law’ no man living- can be rid of his. burden:” therefore, Mr. Worldly-wiseman is a liar, and Mr. Legality a cheat : and for his son Civility, notwithstand- ing his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and cannot help thee. Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise that thou hast heard of these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy salvation, by turning thee from the way in which I had set thee.* After this Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for confirmation of what he had said; and with that there came words and fire out of the ■*- The Gospel pays no respect to demure looks, and a sanctified face; but pronounces such cheats, hypo- crites, and beguilers, who turn souls from the cross of Christ, and the way of salvation by him, to trust to anywise to their own works for justification and sal- vation. 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, while Li- centiousness brings a scandal on the cross. mountain under which poor Christian 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 written, Cursed is every one that con- tinueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them.” f Gal. iii. 10. Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to cry out lamentably ; even cursing the time in which he met with Mr. Worldly- wiseman ; still calling himself a thousand fools for hearkening to his counsel. He also was greatly ashamed to think that this gentleman’s arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with him as to cause him to forsake the right way. This done, he applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows : Sir, J what think you? Is there any hope? May I now go back, and go up to the Wicket- gate ? Shall I not be abandoned for this,, and sent back from thence ashamed? I am sorry I have hearkened to this man’s counsel ; but may my sin be forgiven ? 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.” Ps. ii. 12. Then did Christian address him- self to go back, and Evangelist, after he had kissed him, gave him one smile and bid him God speed. || So he went on with haste, neither spake he to any man by the way, nor if any asked him would he vouchsafe them an an- swer. He went like one that was all the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think himself safe, till again he was got into the way $ which he left to follow Mr. Worldly-wiseman’s counsel. 1 Christian inquires if he may yet be happy. 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 Chr-ist, ti’J 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 peace, and a blessing of consolation ; and hence it wings our peace to Christ and holiness. J The faithful minister must warn young converts not to turn aside; nor can any soul ever find confi- dence or comfort, till they are conscious of having regained the way they had forgotten. THE PILO RIM'S PROGRESS. 97 CHATTER IV. Christian arrives at the Wicket-gate, where he knocks, awl is kindly received. So in process of time Christian got up to the gate. Now over the gate there was writ- ten, “ Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.” Matt. vii. 7, 8. He knocked, therefore, more than once or twice,* saying — “ May I now enter hero ? Will he within Open to sorry me, though I have been An undeserving rebel! Then shall I Not tail to sing his lasting praise on high.” • ' Matt. vii. 7, 8. At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Good-will, who asked him who was there? and whence he came? and what he would have? Christian. Here is a poor burdened sinner. I come from the city of Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from the wrath 'to come. I would, therefore, sir, since I am informed that by this gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in. I am willing with all my heart, f said he. And with that he opened the gate. So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull. I Then said Christian, What means that ? The other told him, “ A little distance from this gate there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the cap- tain ; from thence both he and they that are with him, shoot arrows at those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can enter in. Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble. So when he was got in, the man of the gate asked him who directed him thither. Christian. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, as I did ; and he said that you, sir, would tell me what I must do. Good-will. “An open door is before thee, and no man can shut it.” * This is praying and pleading in faith with God for mercy and forgiveness of sin through the blood of Jesus Christ. t The gate will be open to broken-hearted sinners. Here behold the love of Jesus, in freely and heartily receiving every poor sinner who comes 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 towards men. Luke ii. 14. 7 Christian. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards. Good-will. But how is it that you come alone? Christian. Because none of my neighbours saw their danger, as I saw mine. Good-toill. Did any of them know of your coming? Christian. Yes, my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after me to turn again ; also some of my neighbours stood crying and calling after me to return ; but I put my fingers in my ears and so came on my way. Good-will. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back ? Christian. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they saw that they could not pre- vail, Obstinate went railing back, but Pliable came with me a little way. Good-will. But why did he not come through ? Christian. We indeed came both together until we came to the slough of Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was my neighbour Pliable discouraged, and would not adventure further.|| Wherefore, getting out again on that side next to his own house, he told me I should possess the brave country alone for all him ; so he went his way, and I came mine ; he after Obstinate, and I to this gate. Then said Good-will, Alas, poor man ! is the celestial glory of so small esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazard of a few difficulties to obtain it? Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable ; and if I should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no dif- ference betwixt him and myself. It is true he went back to his own house, but I also turned aside to go into the way of death, being per- suaded thereto by the carnal argument of one Mr. Wo rl d 1 y - w iscm a n . § I Every saved sinner is a brand plucked out of the fire by the loving arm of Christ. Zcch. iii. 2. || A man may have company when he sets out for heaven, and yet go thither alone. “Many be called but few chosen.” Matt. xx. 16. § Where there is true grace in the heart, it will take shame to itself, and give all the glory to God’s sovereign grace, for any difference there is between us and others. Free grace destroys pride, and lays the sinner low whilst it exalts Christ, and causes 98 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Good-will Oh! did he light upon you? What, he would have had you have sought for ease at the Kinds of Mr. Legality ! they are both of them very cheats. But did you take his counsel ? Christian. Yes, as far as I durst. I went to find out Mr. Legality, until I thought that the mountain that stands by his house would have fallen on my head ; wherefore there I was forced to stop.* * Good-will. That mountain has been the death of many, and will be the death of many more. It is well you escaped being dashed in pieces by it. Christian. Why, truly, I do not know what had become of me there, had not Evangelist happily met me again as I was musing in the midst of my dumps ; but it was God’s mercy that he came to me again, for else I had never come hither. But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit indeed for death by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my Lord. But, oh ! what a favour is this to me, that yet I am admitted entrance here.f Good-will. We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they have done before they come hither. “ They in no wise the believer to triumph in his righteousness and salvation. * Though Jesus knows what is in man, and all his ways, yet he will bring the soul to confession unto nim. See the loving heart of Christ to sinners, and the free communications he admits them to with him- self. 0 ye his people, pour out your hearts before him : God is a refuge for us. Ps. Ixii. 8. j - 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 the way of salva- tion, are wholly resolved into the grace of the Gospel, the mercy of God, and in his free favour, and almighty power. It is sweet to converse with Jesus, of his free grace to wretched and unworthy sinners. Do not you find it so ? I Christian is afraid of losing his way; a blessed sign of a gracious heart, when it possesses godly jealousy. |i Christian, being admitted at the strait gate, is di- rected in the narrow way. In the broad road every man may choose a path suited to his inclinations, shift about to avoid difficulties, or accommodate himself to circumstances; and he will be sure of company agree- able to his taste. But Christians must follow one an- other, in the narrow way along the same track, sur- mounting difficulties, facing enemies, and bearing hardships, without any room to evade them : nor is any indulgence given to different tastes, habits, or propensities. It is therefore a straitened, or as some vendor the word, an ajjiicted way— being indeed an are cast out,” (John vi. 27;) and therefore, good Christian, come a little way with me, and I will teach thee about the way thou must go. Look before thee; dost thou see this narrow way? that is the way thou must go. It was cast up by the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles, and it is as straight as a rule can make it ; this is the way thou must go. But, said Christian,]: are there no turnings nor windings, by which a stranger may lose his way ? Good-will. Yes, - there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked and n ide ; but thus thou must distinguish the right from the wrong, the right only being || strait and narrow. Matt. vii. 13, l-L 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 contest to the place of de- liverance ; $ 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 habitual course of repentance, faith, love, self-denial, patience: 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 faith which works by love, we are “ set in the way of his steps.” This path is also straight, as op- posed to the crooked ways of men ; for it consists in an uniform regard to piety, integrity, sincerity, and kindness, at a distance from all the hypocrisies, frauds, and artifices, by which ungodly men wind about to avoid detection, keep up their credit, deceive others, or impose on themselves. The question proposed by Christian implies that believers are more afraid of missing the way than of encountering hardships in it; and Good-will's answer, that many ways butted down on it, or opened into it, in various directions, shows that the careless and self-willed are extremely liable to be deceived; but it follows that all these ways are crooked and wide; they turn aside from the direct line of living faith and holy obedience, and are iro’e 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. ;i 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 lie 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 iu Jesus he shall be adopted iuto the family of heaven. TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 90 other told him that by that he was gone some should knock, and he would show him excel- distance from the gate he would come at the J lent things. Then Christian took his leave of house of the Interpreter, at whose door he | his friend, and he again bid him God speed. 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? Christian. Sir, here is a traveller, who was hid by an acquaintance of the- good man of this house to call here for my profit ; I would there- fore speak with the master of the house. So he called for the master of the house, who after a little time came to Christian, and asked him what he would have? Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am corpc from the city of Destruction, and am going to the Mount Sion; and I was told*by the man that stands at the gate at the head of this way, that if I called here you would show me excel- lent things, such as would be a help to me in my journey. Then said the Interpreter, Come in ; I will show thee that which will be profitable to thee.f So he commanded his man j. to light a candle, and bid Christian to 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 up 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 writ- ten upon its lips, the world was behind its back ; it stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over its head.” * Christian comes to the house of the Interpreter: which means the Lord the Spirit, the teacher of his people. The Interpreter is an emblem of the divine teaching of the Holy Spirit, according to the Scrip- tures, by means of reading, hearing, praying and medi- tating. accompanied by daily experience and observa- tion. Believers depend on this teaching, and are not Satisfied with human instruction, but look to the foun- tain of wisdom, that they may be delivered from preju- dice, preserved from error, and enabled to profit by the ministry of the word. j" Oh how loving, how condescending is the Spirit of God to poor miserable sinners ! f Illumination is here signified. || This is a true picture of a Gospel minister; one whom the Lord the Spirit has called and qualified for Then said Christian, What meaneth this? Interpreter. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand ; he can beget children, (1 Cor. iv. 15,) travail in birth with children, (Gal iv. 19,) and nurse them himself when they are born. And whereas thou scest 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 scest him stand as if he pleaded with men ; and whereas thou scest the world as cast behind him, and that a crown hangs over his head ; that is to show thee, that slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that he hath to his Master’s service, he is sure in the world that comes next to have glory for his reward. Now, said the Interpreter, I have showed thee this picture first, because the man whose picture this is, is the only man whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going hath authorized to be thy guide, in all difficult places thou mayest meet with in the way ; wherefore take good heed to what I have showed thee, and bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen ; lest in thy journey thou meet with some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to death. || Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlour that was full of dust, because never swept ; the which, after he had reviewed a little while, the Interpreter called preaching the everlasting Gospel, lie is one who de- spises the world, is dead to its pleasures and joys; his chief aim is to exa’t and glorify 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 saiuts in him. But there are many who profess to do this, yet turn poor sinners out of the way, and point them to a righteousness 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 the Lord, and zeal for his honourand glory, and for the salvation of souls. Take heed what you hear. Mark iv. 21. 100 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. for a man to sweep. Now when he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that Christian had almost therewith been choked. Then said the Interpreter to a damsel that stood by, Bring hither water and sprinkle the room; the which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure. 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 where- as thou sawest that, so soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about, that the room by him could not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost choked therewith; this is to show thee, that the law, instead of cleansing the heart, by its working, from sin, doth 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. Rom. v. 20 ; vii. 7, 11; 1 Cor. xv. 56. Again as thou saw r est the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upon which it was cleansed with pleasure ; this is to show thee, that when the Gospel comes, in the sweet and precious in- fluences thereof to. the heart, then, I say, even as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling the floor with water, so is sin van- quished and subdued, and the soul made clean through the faith of it, and consequently fit for the King of Glory to inhabit.* John xiv. 21, 23; xv. 3; Acts xv. 9; Rom. xvi. 25, 26; Eph. v. 26. I saw moreover, in my dream, that the In- terpreter took him by the hand, and had him into a little room where sat two little children, each one in his chair. The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the other Pa- tience. Passion seemed to be much discon- tented but Patience was very quiet. Then *Now judge by this, whether you are under the Jaw, or the Gospel. Have you ever found in yourself what is here described? 1st. Of the law, have you ever felt your lusts and corruptions irritated, and sin made to abound in you, as to your perception and feel- ing by the commandment working in you all manner of concupisoence ? for without the law sin was dead. Horn. vii. 8. Idas the application of the law to your conscience made sin to revive in you, 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 Christian asked, What is the reason of the discontent of Passion? The Interpreter an- swered, 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 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, Ex- pound this matter more fully to me. So he said, These two lads are figures : Pas- sion, of the men of this world; and Patience, of the men of that which is to .come. For as here thou seest 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 all the divine testimonies of the good of the w'orld to come. But as thou saw'est that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently left him nothing but rags ; so will it be with all such men at the end of this world. f Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom, and that upon many ac- counts : — because he stays for the best things ; and also because he will have the glory of his when the ether has nothing but rags. Interpreter. Nay, you may add another, to wit — the glory of the next world will never wear out, but these are suddenly gone. There- fore Passion had not so much reason to laugh at Patience because he had his good things first, as Patience will have to laugh at Passion because he had his best things last; for first must give place to last, because last must have Gospel come to you with its reviving, comforting, sanctifying influence? Has it made Christ’s blood. and righteousness precious to your soul, and given you the victory of faith over the law, sin, and death? If so, go on your way rejoicing. j- Carnal men seek nothing more than the gratifica- tion of their senses; their end will be the loss of all things and the destruction of their own souls. But the just live by faith on Jesus, and in hope of joys to come; their end will be glorious; for they shall re- ceive the end of their faith, the salvation of their souls, and the everlasting enjoyment of Christ in glory. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 101 its time to come; but last gives place to noth- ing, for there is not another to succeed: he, therefore, that hath his portion first must needs have a time to spend it; but he that has his portion last must have it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, “In thy lifetime thou receiv- edst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things ; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented.” Luke xiv. 19, 31. Christian. Then I perceive it is not best to covet things that are now, but to wait for things to come. Interpreter. You say truth ; “ For the things that are seen are temporal; but the things that are not seen are eternal,” (2 Cor. iv. 18;) but, though this be so, yet since things present and our fleshly appetite are such near neighbours one to another; and again, because things to come and carnal sense arc such strangers one to another; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fall into amity, and that distance is so continually between the second.* Then I saw in my dream that the Interpre- ter took Christian by the hand, and led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it always casting much water upon it to quench it; yet did the fire burn higher and hotter. Then said Christian, What means this? The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought in the heart; he that casts water upon it to extinguish and put it out, is the Devil ; but in that thou seest the fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the back side of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel of oil in his hand, of which he did also continually cast, but secretly, into the fire. Then said Christian, What means this? The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, wdio continually with the oil of his grace main- tains the work already begun in the heart; by the means of which, notwithstanding what the Devil can do, the souls of his people prove gra- * 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 pierceth through the objects of time and sense, and fixes upon glory and eternity. This is the proper character of every heaven-born soul; the just shall live by faith. Hob. ii. 4. This is a life of heaven upon earth. f It is plain Mr. banyan did not ascribe that glory to the work and power of the creature, which is duo solely to the Lord, who is the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginner, the Carrier on, aud cious still. 2 Cor. xii. 9. And in that thou sawest that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire; this is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of grace is maintained in the soul.f I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately palace, beautiful to behold; at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted ; he saw also upon the top thereof certain persons walking, who were clothed all in gold. Then said Christian, May we go in thither? Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the palace ; and be- hold, at the door stood a great company of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man at a little distance from the door, at a table side, with a book and liis ink- horn before him, to take the name of him that should enter therein ; he saw also that in the doorway stood many men in armour to keep it, being resolved to do to the men that would enter what hurt and mischief they could. Now was Christian somewhat in amaze ; at last, when every man started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very stout countenance come up to the man that sat there, saying, “Set down my name, sir;’ the which when he had done, he saw the man draw liis sword, and put an helmet upon his head, and rush toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force ; but the man was not at all discouraged, but fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely. So after he had J received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his way through them all and pressed forward into the palace; at which there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the top of the palace, saying, “ Come in, come in ; Eternal glory thou shalt win.” So lie went in, and was clothed with such gar- Finisker 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 graeo arc to keep the fire burning. The instruction espe- cially inculcated by this emblem is an entire reliance on the secret but powerful influence of divine grace, to maintain and carry on the sanctifying work that has been begun in the soul. J We must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God. Acts xiv. 22. 102 JDUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. meats as tliey. 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. Christian. What wert thou once? The man said,t I was once a fair and flou- rishing professor, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others ; I once was, as I thought, fair for the Celestial City, (Luke viii. 13,) and had then even joy at the thoughts that I should get thither. || Christian ." Well, but what art thou now? Man. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it as in this iron cage. I cannot get out; oh now I cannot.§ Christian. But how earnest thou in this con- dition ? Man. I left off to watch and be sober ; I laid the reins upon the neck of my lusts ; I sinned against the light of the word, and the goodness of God ; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone ; I tempted the Devil, and he is come to me ; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me ; I have so hardened my heart that I cannot repent. If ® Such 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 way, and presses towards the mark for the prize of his high calling of God in Jesus Christ, l’hil. iii. Id. He is not content with a few lazy wishes, or languid hopes; for the kingdom of heaven suf- fereth violence and the violent take it by force. Matt, xi. 12. j The Holy Spirit would have us take warning by the sad examples of others. Hence he sets before us in the Scripture, the dreadful things which have fallen professors, that we may see our danger, be humble, and watchful, and pray to the Lord to keep us from falling away. J Most dreadful change ! Think of it with trem- bling; thou standest by faith; be not high-minded, but fear. || Soaring professors, beware. Sec how far this Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Bui is there no hope for such a man as this ? Ask him, said the Interpreter. Then said Christian, Is there no hope but you must be kept in the iron cage of despair? Man. No, none at all. Christian. Why ? The son of the Blessed is very pitiful. Man. I have crucified him to myself afresh ; I have despised his person, I have despised his righteousness, I have counted his blood an un- holy thing. I have done despite to the Spirit of grace, (Luke xix. 14; Heb. vi. 4, 6; x. 28, 29 ;) therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises, and there now remains to me noth- ing but threatenings, dreadful threatenings, fearful threatenings, of certain judgment and fiery indignation which shall devour me as an adversary.** Christian. For what did you bring yourself into this condition ? Man. For the lusts, pleasures, and profits of this world ; in the enjoyment of which I did then promise myself much delight ; but now every one of those things also bite me and gnaw me like a burning worm. Christian. But canst thou not repent and turn ? Man. God hath denied me repentance. Flis word gives me no encouragement to believe; yea, himself hath shut me up in this iron cage; nor can all the men in the world let me out. 0 eternity ! eternity ! how shall I grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity ? Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man’s misery be remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee. Well, said Christian, this is fearful! God man went; see what he thought of himself; see what others thought of him ; yea, he felt great joy in him- self 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. $ A more dreadful state on this side of hell cannot be. If An awful warning, to professors. Oh take heed of trifling with the God of truth, and the truths of God! he is a jealous God ! jealous of his honour and glory. Yea, our God is a consuming fire. Heb. xii. 29. It is exceeding difficult to draw the lino here, so as not to encourage in sin, or not discourage broken- hearted sinners from entertaining hope in Christ. Many have written the same bitter things against themselves as here, but to whom they have in nowise belonged. A sight of sin; a sense of sin, and sorrow for sin, with a desire to be saved by Jesus from all sin, as rvell as from wrath, do really bespeak the work- ings of the grace of Christ in the heart. T1IE riLGRIWS progress: 103 help me to watch anil be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man’s misery.* Hir, is it not time for me to go on my way now?f Interpreter. Tarry, till I shall show thee one thing more, and then thou shalt go on thy way. So he took Christian by the hand again, and led him into a chamber where there was one rising out of bed ; and as he put on his raiment he shook and trembled. Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble? The In- terpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing. So he began and said, This night as I was in my sleep I dreamed, and, behold the heavens grew exceeding black ; also it thundered and lightened in most fear- ful wise, that it put me into an agony ; so I looked up in my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate; upon which I heard a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sit upon a cloud, attended with the thousands of heaven; they were all in flaming fire, also the heavens were on a burning flame. I heard then a voice saying, “Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment;” and with that the rocks rent, the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth, (John v. 28, 29; 1 Cor. xv. 51, 58 ; 2 Thess. i. 7, 10 ; Jude 14, 15 ; Rev. xx. 11, 15;) some of them were exceeding glad, and looked upwards : and some sought to hide themselves under the mountains, (Ps. ii. 1, 3, 22; Isa. xxvi. 20, 21 ; Mic. vii. 1(5, 17 ;) then I saw the man that sat upon the cloud open the book and bid the world draw near. Yet there was, by reason of a fierce flame which issued out and came before him, a convenient dis- tance between him and them, as betwixt the judge and the prisoners at the bar. Dan. vii. 9, 10; Mai. iii. 2, 3. I heard it also proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud, “Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into the burning lake;” and with that the bottomless pit opened just whereabout I stood; out of the ’ * Reader, thou hast constant need to put up this prayer for thyself. Thou art in a body of sin, hast a most deceitful and desperately wicked heart, and art exposed to the world’s snares, and Satan’s de- vices.. f Why in such haste, Christian? Poor soul, he had yet got the burden of his sins upon his back; this urged his speed. Ho wanted to get to the cross, to be delivered of his burden ; but the Spirit had many things to show him first, which would be profitable to him mouth of which there came in an abundant manner, smoke, and coals of fire, with hideous noises. It was also said to the same persons, “ Gather my wheat into the garner.” Mai. iv. I; Matt. iii. 12; xiii. 80; Luke iii. 17. And with that I saw many catched up and carried away in the clouds, (1 Thess. iv. 13, 18,) but I was left behind. I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat Upon the cloud still kept his eye upon me ; my sins also came in my mind, and my conscience did ac- cuse me on every side. Horn. ii. 14, 15. Upon this I awaked from my sleep. Christian. But what was it that made you so afraid of this sight? Man. Why I thought that the day of judg- ment was come, and that I was not ready for it ; but this frighted me most, that the angels gathered up several and left me behind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth just where I stood. My conscience too afflicted me and, as I thought, the judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in his counte- nance. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Hast thou considered all these things? Christian. Yes; and they put me in hope and fear. || Interpreter. Well, keep all things so in thy mind that they may be as a goad- in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go. Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his journey. Then said the Interpreter, The Comforter be always with thee, good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the city. So Christian went on his way, saying: “ Here I have seen things rare and profitable; Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable In what I have begun to take in hand; Then let me think on them and understand Wherefore they showed me were; and let me bo Thankful, 0 good Interpreter, to thee.” hereafter. “ He who believeth shall not make haste.” Isa. xxviii. 16. | 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. || Where there is a Gospel hope, there will be a godly fear; both arc necessary; both are the graces of the Holy Spirit. Fear makes us cautious; hope f animates us. 104 £ UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. CHAPTER YI. Christian loses his burden at the. cross. Now I saw in my dream, that the highway, up which Christian was to go, was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was call- ed Salvation. Isa. xxvi. 1. Up this way there- fore did burdened Christian run, but not with- out great difficulty, because of the load on his back.* He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending, and upon that place stood a Cross and a little below, in the bottom, a Sepulchre. So I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his burden loosed from off his shoulder, and fell from off his back, and began to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.f Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, “ He hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death.” Then he stood still awhile to look and wonder ; for it was very surprising to him, that the sight of the cross should thus ease him of his bur- den. He looked, therefore, and looked again, * Our uphill difficulty is the way to the greatest comforts. Burdens are more felt when comforts are near at hand. j- Christian had faith ; he believed that there was redemption in the blood of Christ, even forgiveness of sins, before he came up to the cross, but now he finds and feels the comfort of it: He has now the joy of faith, the guilt of his sins is taken off his conscience, and he is filled with joy and peace in believing. You who believe Christ to be the only Saviour, go on be- lieving till you experience the comfort of knowing that he is your Saviour, and feel pardon in his blood; for when God releases us of our guilt and burden, we are as those that leap for joy; but you cannot have this till you come to the cross, and rest all your hopes upon it. J 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 eveu till tlie springs that were in his head sent the waters down his cheeks. Zech. xii. 10. Now as he stood looking and weeping, behold three shining ones came to him, and saluted him with, “ Peace be to thee so the first said to him, “ Thy sins be forgiven thee,” (Mark ii. 5;) the second stripped him of his rags and clothed him with a change of raiment; the third also set a mark J on his forehead, and gave him a roll with a seal upon it, (Zech. iii. 4; Eph. i. 13,) 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 lpaps for joy, and went ou singing : “ Thus far did I come laden with my sin, Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in, Till I came hither ; what a place is this ! Must here be the beginning of my bliss? Must here the burden fall from 'off my back ? Must here the strings that bind it to me crack? Blest cross ! blest sepulchre ! blest rather be The Man that there was put to shame for me !” the filthy rags of their own righteousness. The author’s uniform doctrine 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 with an open profession of faith, while the roll with a seal upon it, denotes such an as- surance of acceptance, as appears most clear and sat- isfactory, when the believer most attentively compares his views, experiences, desires, and purposes, with the Holy Scriptures, so he could not possibly' intend to as- cribe such effects to any other agent than the Holy Spirit, who, by enabling a man to exercise all filial affections towards God in an enlarged degree, as the “ Spirit of adoption bears witness ” with his conscience that God is reconciled to him, having pardoned all his sins; that lie is justified by faith, through the blood, of Christ; and that he is a child of God, and an heir of heaven. These things are clear and intelligible to those who have experienced this happy change. THE IT LG III M'S PROGRESS. 105 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 went on thus even until he came at the bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep, with fetters upon their heels. The name of the one was Simple, 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, (Prov. xxiii. 34,) for the dead sea is under you, a gulf that hath no bottom ; awake, therefore, and come away ; he willing also and I will help you off with your irons, lie also told them, If he that goeth about like a roaring lion comes by, you will certainly become a prey to his teeth. 1 Pet. v. 8. With that they looked upon him, and began to reply in this sort : Simple f said, “I see no danger;” Sloth said, “Yet a little more sleop and Presumption said, “ Every tub must stand upon its own bottom.” And so they laid down to sleep again, and Christian went on his way. Yet was he troubled to think that men in that danger should so little esteem the kind- ness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by the awakening of them, counselling 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. Christian. Gentlemen, whence come you, and whither go you? Formalist and Hypocrisy. We were born in the land of Vain-Glory, and are going for praise to Mount Zion. * The Lord shows us the misery and danger of other professors, to give us warnings by the way, and to stil- us up to watchfulness. f There is no persuasion will do, if God openeth not the eyes. Remember all is of grace. It is God's grace that quickens, enlightens, converts, justifies, preserves, sanctifies, and glorifies. Well may pilgrims sing every step : Oh to graoo what mighty debtors, Daily, hourly, Lord, are wo 1 Christian. Why came yon not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning of the way? Know you not that it is written, “He that cometh not in by the door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber?” John x. 1. They said, that to go to the gate for entrance was by all their countrymen counted too far about; and that, therefore, their usual way was to make a short cut of it, and to climb over the wall, as they had done. Christian. But will it not be counted a tres- pass against the Lord of the city whither we arc bound, thus to violate his revealed will? They told liim,|| 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, testimony that would witness it for more than a thousand years. But, said Christian, will your practice stand a trial at law? 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 they, if we get into the way, 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 per- ceive, came in at the gate; and we are also in the way, that came tumbling over the wall: wherein now is thy condition better than ours? Christian. I walk by the rule of my Master, you walk by the rude working of your fancies. You are counted thieves already by the Lord of the way, therefore I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way. You came in by yourselves without his direction, and shall go out by yourselves without ms mercy. § J A Christian spirit feels for others' dangers, and aims and strives to be profitable to them. |j They that come into the way, but not by the door, think that they can say something in vindication of their own practice. § Here is the essential difference between a real Christian and formal hypocrites : he takes the word of God for the warrant of his faith, and the rule of his conduct, which they reject; for they are left under the power of their natural will and carnal reason, and ( BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 106 To tliis they made hut little answer; only they bid him look to himself. Then I saw that they went on, every man in his way, without much conference one with another; gave that these two men told Christian, that, as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but that they should as conscientiously do them as he; therefore, said they, we see not wherein thou differest from us, but by the coat that is on thy back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbours, to hide the shame of thy nakedness.* Christian. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, (Gal. ii. 16,) since you came not in by the door. Aiid as for this coat that is on my back, it was given me. by the Lord of the place whither, I go; and that as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token of kindness to me; for I had nothing but rags before: and besides, thus I comfort myself as I go; surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city, the Lord thereof will know me for good, since I have his coat on my back ! a coat that he gave me freely in the day that he stripped me of my rags. I have, more- over, a mark in my forehead, of which per- haps you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord’s most intimate associates fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell 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 celestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all which things I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the gate.f To these things they gave him no answer ; only they looked upon each other and laughed. J Then I saw that they went on all, save that lienee they brave it out for a season, with vain hopes and confidences. The glorious robe of Christ’s righteousness, which is put upon every believer, is sneered at and held in contempt by formal professors who see not their naked- ness and want of covering. •f Where there is the witness of the Spirit, and the seal of the Spirit, that soul will also glory in the right- eousness 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 cloth- ing of Christ’s righteousness. J Vain-glorious fools laugh at Christ’s humble pil- grims. IjWhat! sighing already, and just pardoned? One should expect that he was all joy; nothing but joy. Oh these are sighs of love, which strangers to spiritual joy know nothing of. Christian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that sometimes sigh- ingly, || 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 ; ff 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 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 way is called Difficulty. Christian went now to the spring, and drank thereof to refresh himself, (Isa. xlix. 10,) and then began to go up the hill, saying — “ The hill, though high, I covet to ascend. The difficulty will not me offend ; For I perceive the way to life lies here; Come, pluck up heart, let’s neither faint nor fear. Better, though difficult, the right way to go, Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.”** The other two also came to the foot of the, hill ; but when they saw that the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go ; and supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up which Christian went, on the other side of the hill, therefore they were resolved to go into those ways. Now the name of one of those ways was Danger, and the name of the other De- struction. So the one took the way which is called Danger, which did lead him into a great wood, and the other took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide field, full of dark mountains, where he stum- bled and fell, and rose no more.ft $ 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. lie came to the hill Difficulty ; a way unploasing to flesh and blood, which proves _and tries the sincerity of our faith, and the earnestness of our souls, in our pilgrimage. ** Depend upon it, pilgrim, some great blessing is at hand, when thou hast some great difficulty to grapple with and to overcome. The believer’s state on earth is a state of trial : he must meet with difficulties to prove his faith and love. The hill Difficulty repre- sents those circumstances which require self-denial and exertion, and may signify whatever in our walk proves irksome to flesh and blood. ff Formalists and hypocrites, astliey come easy into the way of profession, without any convictions of sin to cause them to fly to Christ the Wicket-gate, so they THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I perceived he fell from run- ning to going, and from going to clambering upon his hands and knees, because of the steep- ness 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 i slumber, and thence into a fast sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost night; and in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand.* * Now as he was sleeping, there came one to him and awaked him, saying, “ Go to the ant, thou sluggard : consider her ways, and be wise.” Prov. vi. 6. And with that Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace till he came to the top of the hill.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 :J to whom Chris- tian said, Sirs, what is the matter you run the wrong way? Timorous answered, that they were going to the city of Zion, and h id got up that difficult place; but said he, tne further we go, the more danger we meet with ; wherefore we turned, and are going back again. Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lies a couple of lions in the way, (whether sleeping or waking we know not;) and we could not find the easiest path to flesh and blood, and often perish in the end. * 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 bless- ings, even spiritual comforts from the God of grace, through the infection of our nature, (if we do not watch and pray in faith,) are liable to be abused, so as to oause us to sleep when we should be active and dili- gent in running the heavenly race, looking unto Jesus. t The Lord lovos his people, nor will he suffer them tc sleep the sleep of death ; he will, on their stirring up his gift within them, shine upou, and revive his gracious work. t Timorous and Mistrust are great enemies to the Christian’s faith, and bring up an evil report of his way. Listen not to them, but look to God’s truth and faithfulness ; 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 good ? 107 think, if we came within reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces. Then said Christian, You make me afraid ; but whither 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 Celestial City, I am sure to be in safety there :|| I must venture: to go back is nothing but death : to go forward is fear of death, and life everlasting beyond it: I will yet go forward. So Mistrust and Timor- ous ran down the hill, and Christian went on his way. But thinking again of what he had heard from the men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that he might read therein and be comforted ; but he felt and found it not. Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for lie wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been his pass into the Celestial City. Here therefore he began to be much perplexed, $ and knew not what to do. At last he bethought himself that he had slept in the arbour that is on the side of the hill ; and falling down upon his knees he asked God forgiveness for that foolish act, and then went back to look for his roll. But all the way he went back, who can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian’s heart? Sometimes he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a little refreshment for his weariness. Thus, therefore, he went back, carefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if happily he might find the roll that had been his comfort so many times in his journey. He I Christian shakes off fear by sound Scripture rea- soning : even the reasoning of faith, against the fear of the flesh, and lliistrust or unbelief. We have always a sure word of prophecy, whereunto we shall do well to take heed. When dangers beset, and fears assault, remember whose ye are, and whom you serve; look to the way you are in, and the end of your faith, even the salvation of your soul. Study the word of God and obey it. $ He is perplexed for his roll : this is right. If we suffer spiritual loss, and are easy and unconcerned about it, it is a sure sign that we indulge carnal security and vain confidence. Many go on so till they sink into a downright Antinomian spirit. Oh beware of this: for many there are who abhor the name, yet have drunk into the spirit of it, and hence live and walk without spiritual communion with God the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ, and rest con- tented without the witness of the Spirit with their spirits, that they are the children of God. 108 B UN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. went thus till lit 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, “ 0 wretched man that I am ! that I should sleep in the day-time ! (1 Thess. v. 7, 8; Rev. ii. 4, 5,) that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty ! that I should so indulge the flesh, as to use that rest for ease to my flesh, which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the spirits of pil- grims ! 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 sorrow, which I might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep. How far might I have been on my way by this time ! I am made to tread those steps thrice over, which I needed to have trod but once : f yea, now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent ; oh that I had not slept ! Now by this time he was come to the arbour again, where for a while he sat down and wept; but at last, (as God would have it,) looking sorrowfully down under the settle, there he spied his roll; the which he with trembling and haste catched up and put in his bosom. But who can tell how joyful this man was Look to your spirits, Christians. See if you have not after-sorrow for former indulgences. But it is far better to be crying, “0 wretched man that I am,” than to be alive to carnal confidences, and dead to the desire of spiritual comforts. f Christian’s perplexity, fear, sorrow, remorse, re- doubled earnestness, complaints, and self-reproach- ings, when he missed his roll, and went back to seek it, exactly suit the experience of numbers, who through unwatchfulness, are brought into a state of uncer- tainty. Nothing can afford comfort to a mind that has enjoyed an assurance of the favour of God, but that love which is “ better than life and such is the abundant mercy of Jehovah, that he imparts light and power to the humble sou^ who, by means of ex- traordinary diligence, with renewed application to the blood of Jesus, will in time recover his warranted confidence which he lost, and God will “restore to him the joy of his salvation;” but he must as it were, pass repeatedly over the same ground with sorrow, which had it not been for his negligence, he might have passed at once with comfort. j This means a fresh sense of the 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. Oh this rich bless- ing of assurance is not enough prized, and too little sought for by professors. But how can any be con- when he had gotten his roll again ? For this roll was the assurance of his life, and accept- ance at the desired haven. Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave God thanks for direct- ing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears betook himself again to his jour- ney. J But oh how nimbly now did he go up the rest of the hill ! — Yet before he got up, the sun went down upon Christian ; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleep- ing to his remembrance; and thus he again began to condole with himself ; £ ‘ 0 thou sin- ful sleep ! how for thy sake am I like to be be- nighted in my journey! I must walk without the sun, darkness must cover the path of my feet, and I must hear the noise of doleful creatures, because of my sinful sleep!” Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and Timorous told him of, how they were fright- ened with the sight of the lions. Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the night for their prey; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how should I shift them? how should I escape being by them torn in pieces ? Thus he went on. But while he was bewailing 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. tent without it ? It is impossible for them to be happy, and to rejoice in the Lord, without a real, scriptural assurance of his love and favour. It is this which adds wings to faith, liveliness to hope, joy to love, and cheerfulness to obedience. Plead the precious prom- ises : be not content without the enjoyment of the blessings contained in them. Says our Lord, “Ask and ye shall receive, that ycur joy may be full.” John xvi. 21. || Hitherto Christian has been a solitary p' grim ; 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 repre- sented under the emblem of the House Beautiful, and the Pilgrim’s entertainment in it, as described in the subsequent pages. Mr. Bunyan here manifests much candour and liberality of sentiment; and his representatipns may suit the admission of any new members into the society of professed Christians in any communion, where a serious regard to spiritual relig- ion is in this respect maintained. It certainly would bo very desirable, that Christian societies should be formed according to the principles here exhibited ! such would indeed be very beautiful, honourable to God, conducive to mutual edification, and examples to the world around them. Different expedients have been adopted for thus promoting the communion of saints; the advantages resulting there- . ' « ■ , ■ -v ; " ; 1 • ' -v v v ;• ' ■ • - ■ ■ ' , - ' . ■ • ; , . ' < ' . . { ' THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 109 C H A PIE VIII. Christian safely passes the lions, and arrives at the house called Beautiful, where he is kindly received, and agreeably entertained. So I saw in my dream, that he made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now before he had gone far he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong otf the Porter’s lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, ho spied two lions in the way.* * Now, thought he, I see the danger that Mis- trust and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them ; for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, “ Is thy strength so small? Mark iv. 40. Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that have none; keep in the midst of the path and no hurt shall come unto thee.” Then I saw that he went on trembling for fear of the lions; but taking good heed to the directions of the Porter, he heard them roar, but they did him no harm. Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came and stood before the gate where the Porter was.f Then said Christian to the Porter, Sir, what house is this? and, may I lodge here to-night? The Porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims. The Porter also asked whence he was? and whither he was going? Christian. I am come from the city of De- struction. and am going to Mount Zion : but, because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-night. fnm have been incalculable; but surely even more might be done, than is at present, perhaps any where, wore all concerned to attempt it boldly, earnestly, and with united efforts. • The tv: lions may signify to us, the roaring of tho devil and the world against us ; but both are ohained, they cannot go one link beyond what our God permits. Sometimes we may not see the chain, and unscriptural fears may beset us. But this is the watch-word of our Lord, FEAR NOT. f A minister of Christ, one who is watchful for the good of souls. Oh how precious are they to pilgrims’ hearts ! See the sweet encouragement and blessed ad- vice Pilgrim obtained from him. Porter. What is your name? Christian. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless :% I came of the race of Japheth, whom God will per- suade to dwell in the tents of Stem. Gen. ix. 27. Porter. But how doth it happen that you come so late? The sun is set. Christian. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am ! I slept in the arbour that stands on the hill side. Nay, I had, not- withstanding 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.§ Porter. Well, I will call out one of the vir- gins of this place, who will, if she like your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family, ac- cording to the rules of the house. So Watch- ful the Porter rang a bell, at the sound of which came out at the door of the house a grave and beautiful damsel, named Discre- tion,^ and asked why she was called ? The Porter answered, This man is in a jour- ney from the city of Destruction to Mount Zion ; but being weary and benighted, he asked me if he might lodge here to-night: so I told him I would call for thee, who after discourse had with him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even according to the law of the house. Then she asked him, whence he was? and whither he was going? and he told her. She asked him also how he got in the way? J 0 soul, did you ever know that this was your name? Hast thou tasted that the Lord is rich in grace to graceless sinners? Oh then sing of free grace and unmerited loTe, every step of thy pilgrimage. | Look well to your roll. Beware of losing your as- surance. See tho 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 are sincere pilgrims in the way to the heavenly city. Admitting members into churches, should be dona with discretion. 110 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. and he told her. Then she asked him what he had seen and met with in the way? and he told her. And at last she asked his name. So he said, It is Christian ; and I have so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, be- cause, by what I perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief and se- curity of pilgrims. So she smiled, but the water stood in her eyes ; and after a little pause she said, I will call forth two or three more of the family. So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence, Piety and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him into the family; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the house said, “ Come in, thou blessed of the Lord ; ‘this house was built by the Lord of the hill, on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in.’ ” Then he bowed his head, and followed them into the house. So when he was come in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented together that, until supper was ready, some of them should have- some partic- ular discourse with Christian, for the best im- provement of time ; and they appointed Piety, and Prudence, and Charity, to discourse with him : and thus they began.* Piety. 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 pil- grimage. Christian. With a very good will ; and lam glad that you are so well disposed. Piety. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim’s life? Christian. I was driven out of my native country by a dreadful sound that was in mine ears ; to wit, that unavoidable destruction did attend me if I abode in that place where I was. Piety. But how did it happen that you came out of your country this way ? Christian. It was as God would have it ; for when I was under the fears of destruction, I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a man, even to me as I was trembling * The blessedness of savoury, experimental con- versation with fellow-pilgrims. f Hope and fear should accompany us every step on our journey. Without true piety there can be no real Christianity. The Lord shows us many things in our way concerning the cases of others, to make us fear falling away ; while he displays the glory of his grace in keeping his saints, to animate our hope on his power, and trust in his grace. Look unto Jesus. and weeping, whose name is Evangelist, and he directed me to the Wicket-gate, which else I should never have found and so set me into the way that hath led me directly to this house. Piety. But did not you come by the house of the Interpreter? Christian. Yes, and did see such thing3 there, the remembrance of which will stick by me as long as I live ; especially three things ; to wit, how Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his work of grace in the heart; how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes cf God’s mercy ; and also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was come.f Piety. Why, did you hear him tell his dream ? Christian. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, I thought; it made my heart ache as he was telling of it; but yet I am glad I heard it. Piety. Was this all you saw at the house of the Interpreter? Ch ristian. No ; he took me and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and how the people were clad in gold that were in it; and how there came a venturous man and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the door to keep him out ; and how he was bid to come in and win eternal glory ; methought those 1 things did ravish my heart. I would have stayed at that good man’s house a twelve-month, but that I knew I had further to go. Piety. And what saw you else in the way? Christian. Saw ! Why, I went but a little « further, and I saw one, as I thought in my ■ mind, hang bleeding upon a tree ; and the very sight of him made my burden fall off my back, (for I groaned under a very heavy burden, but then it fell down from off me.) It was a strange thing to me, for I never saw such a thing before; yea, and while I stood looking up (for then I could not forbear looking) three shining ones came to me ; one of them testified that my sins were forgiven me ; another stripped me of my rags, and gave me this embroidered coat which you see ; and the third set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll, (and with that he plucked it out of his bosom. ) % I A blessed scriptural experience of what the Lord had done for his soul: quite necessary for every one, before admission into the church of Christ. For want of this, many who are joined, prove of no profit t.0 other souls, and get no good to their own. A mere profession of Christ, without an experience of his love, grace, and peace, being sealed upon the heart, by the Spirit the Comforter, is nothing but empty specula- tion. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. Piety, But you saw more than this, did you not? • Christian. The things that I have tojd you were the beat ; yet some other matters I saw ; as, namely, I saw three men, Simple, Sloth and Presumption, lie asleep a little way out of the way as I came, with irons upon their heels; but do you think I could not awake them ! I also saw Formality and Hypocrisy come tum- bling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Zion, but they were quickly lost; even as I my- self 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 questions, and desired his answers to them. Prudence. Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came? Christian. 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 an opportunity to have returned; but now I desire a better country, that is an heavenly one. Heb xi. 16. Prudence. Do you not bear away with you some of the things that then you were conver- sant withal ? * Christian. Yes, but greatly against my will; especially my inward and carnal cogitations, with which all my countrymen, as well as my- self 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 me. Rom. vii. 19. Prudence. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which at other times are your perplexity ? Christian. Yes, but that is but seldom ; but * Prudence must be joined to piety. Christian pru- dence should be visible in every step of the professor, for says Solomon, “ I, Wisdom, dwell with Prudence,” (Prov. viii. 12,) and “tho wisdom of the prudent is to understand his way,” (xiv. S.) Ilis path is peace and his end salvation. f Mind this. By believing his pardon by the blood of Christ, the love of God to him, by the witness of his Spirit and the glory of heaven, to which he is going, are what strengthens the Christian’s heart against all oppositions. Ill they are to me golden hours in which such things happen to me. Prudence. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times as if they were vanquished? Christian. Yes; when I think on what I saw at the cross, that will do it; and when I look upon my embroidered coat, that will do it; and when I look into the roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.f Prudence. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion ? Christian. \\ by there I hope to see him alive that did hang dead on the cross; and there I hope to be rid of all those things, that to this day are in me, an annoyance to me; there, they say, there is no death, (Isaiah xxv. 8; Rev. xxi. 4 ;) and there shall I dwell with such com- pany as I like best. For, to tell you the truth, I love him because I was by him eased of my burden ; and I am weary of my inward sick- ness. I would fain be where I shall die no more, and with the company that shall con- tinually cry, “ Holy, holy, holy ! ” J Then said Charity to Christian, Have you a family ? are you a married man ? Christian. I have a wife and four small chil- dren. Charity. And why did you not bring them along with you ? Then Christian wept, and said, Oh! how willingly would I have done it ! but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on my pilgrimage.il Charity. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavoured to have shown them the danger of being left behind. Christian. 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. Gen. xix. 4. Charity. And did you pray to God that he would bless your counsel to them ? Christian. Yes, and that with much affection ; t A sight of Christ by faith, begets longing of soul to see him in glory. A sense of his pardoning love makes ns long to be with him; a desire of being per- fectly freed from the very being of sin, ever accompa- nies a true and lively faith in him, and manifests that we profess a most holy faith. Jude 20. || So the spirit of a pilgrim manifests itself in love to those of his own house, by earnestly wishing, striv- ing, and praying, if by any means he can prevail on them to flee from destruction, and come to Jesus for salvation. 112 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. for you must think that my wife and poor children were very dear unto me. Charity. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction? for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you. Christian. Yes, over, and over, and over. They might also see my fears in my counte- nance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the apprehension of the judgments that did hang over our heads; but all was not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me. Charity. But what could they say for them- selves why they came not? Christian. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world : and my children were given to the foolish delights of youth: so, what by one thing and what by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone. Charity. But did you not with your vain life damp all that you by words used by way of persuasion to bring them away with you ? * Christian. Indeed I cannot commend my life ; for I am conscious to myself of many fail- ings 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 occa- sion, by any unseemly action, to make them averse to going on pilgrimage. Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me I was too pre- cise ; and that I denied myself of things, for their sakes, in which they saw no evil. Nay, I think, I may say, that if what they saw in me did hinder them, it was my great tender- ness in sinning against God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbour. Charity. Indeed Cain hated his brother, “be- cause his own works were evil, and his broth- er’s righteous,” (John iii. 12;) and if thy wife and children have been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to be im- *0 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 Gospel, of the doctrines of grace, and of heaven, yet if you indulge evil tempers, and live under the power of any sinful lusts and passions, you will hereby harden others against the things of God, and prevent their setting out in the ways of God, and are in danger of finally perishing. Study and pray to be a constant walker in the way of holiness, else all is but windy profession, and airy talk. Oh how much harm is done to Christ's cause by the unholy walk of many professors ! placable to good ; and thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood.f Ezek. iii. 19. Nojv 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 table was furnished with fat things and with wine that was well refined ; and all their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill ; as, namely, about what he had done, and wherefore he did what he did, and why he had builded that house ; and, by what they said, I perceived that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with, and slain him that had the power of death, (Heb. ii. 14, 15,) but not without great danger to himself; which made me love him the more. For, as they said, and, as I believe, said Christian, he did it with the loss of 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 affirmed, and that was, he had stripped himself of his glory that he might do this for the poor; and that they heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in the mountain of Zion alone. They said moreover, that he had made many pilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their origi- nal had been the dunghill. 1 Sam. ii. 8 ; Ps. cxiii. 7. Thus they discoursed together till late at night; and after they had committed them- selves to their Lord for protection, they betook themselves to rest. The pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber, whose window opened towards the sun-rising : the name of the cham- f Hence see the necessity of a Christian’s giving good evidence, that he is really possessed of those graces of piety, prudence, and charity or love, befcro he can enjoy the communion of saints. True faith in Jesus is never alone, but is always attended with a train of Christian graces. I This means the Lord’s supper; where Christians in common feed on Jesus by faith, and dwell in con- templation, with wonder, love and praise, for what Jesus had done for them, is in them, and is now doing for them at the right hand of God. Thus Christians feed on him by faith, and are nourished up by him unto eternal life. TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 113 bcr was Foaco, where he slopt (ill break of day, nnd then he awoke and sang: “Where am I now? Is this tho love and care Of Jesus, lor tho men that pilgrims are ; Thus to provide, that I should bo forgiven, And dwell already tho next door to heaven ?”* So in the morning they all got up ; and, after some more discourse, they told him that lie should not depart till they had showed 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 was the Son of the Ancient of days, and came by that eternal generation : here also were more fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many hundreds that he had taken into his service; and how he had placed them in such habitations that could neither by length of days, nor decay of nature, be dissolved. Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants had done; as how they had “subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, waxed valiaut in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.” Heb. xi. 33, 34. 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 any, though they in time past had offered great affronts to his person and pro- ceedings. Here also were several other his- tories of many other famous things, of all * A sinner cannot sleep safely and comfortably till he has found peace with God. But, “ being justified by faith, we have peace with God [and peace in our consciences] through our Lord Jesus Christ.” Bom. v. 1. But all unbelievers of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ are under the curse of the law, and condemna- tion for sin, and are at enmity against God. f Christ, and meditation on Christ, on his birth, his person, his life, his works, his death, his atonement, righteousness, and salvation, are the delight of Chris- tian souls. Says David, “ My meditation of him shall be sweet : I will be glad in the Lord.” Psal. civ. 34. A lively Christian cannot live without spiritual med- itation. ! The provision which is made in Christ, and his fulness for maintaining and increasing in the hearts of his people, those holy dispositions and affections by the vigorous exercise of which, victory is obtained over all their enemies, is here represented by the S which Christian had a view: as of things both ancient and modern ; together with prophecies and predictions of things that have their cer- tain 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 furniture which their Lord had provided for pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplates, all-prayer, and shoes that would not wear out. And there was here enough of this to harness out as many men, for the service of their Lord, as there be stars in the heaven for multitude. They also showed him some of the engines, with which some of his servants had done wonderful things. They showed him Moses’ rod; the hammer and nail with which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too, with which Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian. Then they showed him the ox- goad, wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men. They showed him also the jaw-bone with which Samson did such mighty feats; they showed him moreover the sling and stone with which David slew Goliah of Gath; and the sword also with which their Lord will kill the man of sin, in the day that he shall rise up to the prey. They showed him besides many excellent things with which Christian was much delighted. || This done they went to their rest again. Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forwards, but they desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we will, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains; § which, they said, armoury. This suffices for all who 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. I| Contemplations on the things of old, recorded in the word of God, is the joy and glory of faith, ani- mates hope, and causeth the soul to press forward in the Christian race. § The Delectable Mountains, as seen at a distance, represent those distinct views of the privileges and consolations attainable in this life, with which be- lievers are sometimes favoured, when attending on divine ordinances: or diligently making a subsequent improvement of them, by means whereof they are ani- mated to “press forward toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” 114 £ UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. would yet further add to his comfort, because they were nearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was; so he con- sented and stayed. When the morning was up, they had him to the top of the house, and bid him look south; so he did; and behold, at a great distance, (Isa. xxxiii. 16, 17,) he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and fountains, very delectable to behold. Then he asked the name of the country. They said, It was Immanuel’s Land ; and it is as common, say they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims. And when thou comest there, from thence thou mayest see the gate to the Celestial City, as the shepherds that live there will make ap- pear. CHAPTER IX. Christian enters the Valley of Humiliation, where he is fiercely attached by Apollrjon, 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 as- saults in the way. He being therefore thus accoutred,* * walked out with his friends to the gate, and there he asked the Porter, if he saw any pilgrim pass by? Then the Porter an- swered, Yes. Christian. Pray did you know him? Porter. I asked his name, and he told me it was Faithful. Oh, said Christian, I know him : he is my townsman, my near neighbour, he comes from the place where I was born: how far do you think he may be before? Porter. He has got by this time below the hill. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with 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 Discre- tion, Piety, Charity, and Prudence, would ac- company him down to the foot of the hill. So Great is the Lord our Gud, And 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. * See what this Christian armour is in Eph. vi. 18, &c. f Thus it is after a pilgrim has been favoured with they went on together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go down the hill. Then said Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down. Yes, said Prudence, so it is; for it is an hard matter for a man to go down into the Valley of Humiliation as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way; therefore, said they, 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.f Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, when Christian was gone down to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle of wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way. But now, in this Valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to it; for he had gone but a little way, before he spied a foul fiend coming over the field to meet him ; his name is Apollyon.J Then did Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go back or stand his ground. But he con- sidered again that he had no armour for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to him might give him greater advantage, with ease to pierce him with his darts ; there- rnany special and peculiar blessings, there is danger - of his being puffed up and exalted on account of them ; so did even holy Paul express it : therefore the messenger of Satan was permitted to buffet him. 2 Cor. xii. 7. In our present mixed 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 be humbled and kept low, lest spiritual pride prevail. It is hard going down into the Valley of Humiliation, without slipping into mur- muring and discontent, and calling in question the dealings of God with us. I Apollyon signifies the rfe«(roye>-. See Rev. ix. 11. TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 115 foro ho resolved to venture, and stand his ground ; for, thought he, had I no more in my eyes than tho saving of my life, it would be the best way to stand. So he went on, and Apollyon met him. Now the monster was hideous to behold: he was clothed with scales like a fish, (and they are his pride;) he had wings like a dragon, feet like a bear, and out of his belly came fire and smoke, and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion. When he was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance, and thus began to question with him.* Apollyon. Whence came you? and whither are you bound ? Christian. I am come from the city of De- struction, which is the place of all evil, and am going to the city of Zion. Apollyon. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects; for all that country is mine, and I am the prince and god of it. How is it then that thou hast run away from thy king? Were it not for that I hope thou mayest do me more service, I would strike thee now at one blow to the ground. Christian. I was born indeed in your domin- ions, but your service was hard, and your wages was such as a man could not live on ; “ for the wages of sin is death,” (Rom. vi. 23;) therefore when I was come to years, I did as other considerate persons do, look out if per- haps I might mend mysclf.f Apollyon. There is no prince that will, thus lightly lose his subjects, neither will I as yet lose thee ; but since thou complainest of thy service and wages, be content to go back ; what our country will afford, I do here promise to give thee. Christian. But 1 have let myself to another, even to the king of princes ; and how can I with fairness go back with thee? Apollyon. Thou hast done in this according to the proverb: — “ Change a bad for a worse:” 9 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 ground, conquer Satan, and repel all his fiery darts. In every conflict with Satan, the battle is the Lord’s ; his strength is engaged for our victory ; therefore fight the good fight of faith. f All this is tho effect of believing God’s word, and the conviction which it brings to the mind, of the evil of sin, of tho deplorable state the sinner finds himself in, and of tho grace and salvation of the Son of God. As soon as a man believes these truths, he quits the but it is ordinary for those that have professed, themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return again to me. Do thou so too, and all shall be well.t Christian. I have given him mv faith, and sworn my allegiance to him ; how then can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor ? Apollyon. Thou didst the same to me, anti yet I am willing to pass by all, if now thou wilt yet turn again and go back. Christian. What I promised thee was in my nonage ; and besides I count that the prince under whose banner I now stand is able to ab- solve me; yea, and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee: and besides, 0 thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like his service, his wages, his servants, his government, his company and country, better than thine ; and therefore leave off to persuade me further; I am his servant, and I will follow him. Apollyon. Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to meet with in the way that thou goest. Thou knowest that for the most part, his servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors against me and my ways. How many of them have been put to shameful deaths? And besides thou countest his service better than mine, whereas he never came yet from the place where he is, to deliver any that served him out of their hands : but, as for me, how many times, as ail the world very well knows, have I delivered, either by power or fraud, those that have faith- fully served me, from him and his, though taken by them : and so I will deliver thee. || Christian. His forbearing at present to de- liver them is on purpse to try their love, whe- ther they will cleave to him to the end ; and, as for tho ill end thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their account ; for, for present deliverance, they do not much expect service of the father of lies : and by the faith of tho truth, he is armed to resist Satan ; for it is the glory of faith to draw all its reasonings from divine truth. J Here the father of lies delivers a most awful truth, but like himself backs it with a lying promise. Most dreadful to think of, to set out in the profession of Jesus, and again to turn back to the service of Satan, yet how common is this! Such reject Christ's truth, and believes the devil's lie “ that all shall be well.” But their end is ill. and their death damnation. || Mark the many subtle wavs, and artful reasonings of Satan to prevent pilgrims frbm persevering in tho ways of the Lord. Happy for us net to be ignorant of Satan's devices. 116 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. it ; for they stay for their glory, and then they shall have it, when their Prince comes in his and the glory of the angels.* Apollyon. Thou' hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him ; and how dost thou hope to receive wages of him ? Christian. Wherein, 0 Apollyon, have I been unfaithful to him? Apollyon. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost choked in the gulf of Despond : thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid of thy burden, whereas thou shouldest have stayed till thy Prince had taken it off; thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things : thou wast almost persuaded to go back at the sight of the lions : and when thou talk- est 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.f Christian. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out ; but the Prince, whom I serve and honour, is merciful and ready to forgive. But besides, these infirmities pos- sessed me in thy country : for three 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, saying, I am an enemy to this Prince ; I hate his person, his laws, and people; I am come out on purpose to withstand thee. Christian. Apollyon, beware what you do; for I am in the king’s highway, the way of holiness : therefore take heed to yourself. 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 ; * Here is the precious reasoning of faith. Weil 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. -j- Satan is justly styled the accuser of the brethren of Christ, (Rev. xii. 10,) for he accuseth them before (lad, and to their own consciences. “Rut they over- come him by the blood of the Lamb, and by the word of their testimony, (Rev. xii. 11,) namely, “that they have redemption in the blood of Christ, even the for- giveness of their sins.” Eph. i. 7 . + That is the best way to own Satan’s charges if they be true, yea, to exaggerate them also, to exalt the riches of the grace of Christ above all, in pardoning all of them freely. By thus humbling ourselves, and exalting Christ, Satan can get no advantage over us, though this will put him into a rage against us. || The shield of faith : the belief of what Christ had done for him, and in him, and what he was in Christ, justified and sanctified. This glorious confession of for I swear by my infernal den that thou shalt go no further : here will I spill thy soul. And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast ; but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so prevented the danger of that. || Then did Christian draw ; for he saw it was time to bestir him ; and Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail ; by the which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it,§ Apollyon wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot. This made Christian give a little back: Apollyon, therefore, fol- lowed his work amain, and Christian again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could. This sore combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite spent ; for you must know that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must needs grow weaker and weaker. jf Then Apollyon, spying his opportunity, be- gan to gather up close to Christian, and wrest- ling with him, gave him a dreadful fall ; and with that Christian’s sword flew out of his hand. Then said Apollyon, I am sure of thee now : and with that he had almost pressed him to death ; so that Christian began to despair of life. But, as God would have it,** * * * § * while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to make a full end of this good man, Christian nimbly stretched out his hand for his sword, and caught it, saying, “Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy ! when I fall, 1 shall arise,” (Mic. vii. 8,) and with that gave him a dreadful thrust, which made him give back as one that had received his mortal wound. Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, faith honours Christ, repels and quenches all the fiery darts of Satan, and gets the victory over him. This is what. Peter exhorts to : “ Resist the devil, steadfast in faith.” 1 Pet. v. 9. § Christian wounded in his understanding, faith, and conversation. We may think this is hard work; why should a Christian be so severely attacked by Satan ? TJm L ord 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 power and unchange- able 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 of his might.” Eph. vi. 10. Observe that the Lord does not look on as a mere spectator of our conflicts, but he strengthens us in every evil day, and in every fight of faith, and brings us off at last, more than conquerors through his love. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 117 “Nay, in all those things we are more ‘than conquerors, through him that loved ns,” (Rom. viii. :!7, 89 ; James iv. 7 ;) 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 ancl hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the fight; he spake like a dragon: and, on the other side, what sighs and groans burst from Christian’s heart. I never saw him all the while give so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon with his two-edged sword ; then indeed he did smile and look upward!* Rut it was the dreadfulest fight that ever I saw. So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to him that hath de- livered me out of the mouth of the lion, to him that did help me against Apollyon. And so he did ; saying : “ Great lielzebub, the captain of this fiend, Design’d my ruin; therefore to this end lie sent him harness’d out ; and he with rage That hellish was, did fiercely me engage ; * Not a vain-glorious, hut an humble, thankful smile, lie looked up and smilingly gave the Lord all the glory of his victory. ■f No matter what wounds we get in our conflicts with Satan, for Jesus will heal them all. But who will heal those which we get by complying with the devil instead of resisting him ? J Conflicts with- Satan make Christians wary, and value their sword, so as to walk with the sword of the spirit, the word of God, in their hands. As faith in that word prevails, the power of temptation declines, and the Christian becomes victorious; yea, more than a conqueror through the blood of Jesus. || “Many are the afflictions of the righteous;” so Christian found it. He came off conqueror 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 him ; he expected 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 supposi- tion that God has withdrawn the light of his coun- tenance, and is accompanied by manifold apprehen- sions and temptations. Most Christians know some- thing of this, but perhaps very few are acquainted with that great degree of horror and fear which are here represented. The words quoted from the prophet, describe the waste howling wilderness through which Israel journeyed to Canaan; which typified the be- But blessed Michael helped me, and I, By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly : Therefore to him let me give lasting praise And 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 satdown'in that plx.o to eat bread, and to drink of that bottle that was given him a little before: so being re- freshed, he addressed himself to his journey with his sword + drawn in his hand; for he said, I know not but some other enemy may be at hand. But he met with no other affront from Apollyon quite through the valley. Now at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the Shadow of Death, || and Christian must needs go through it, be- cause the way to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it. Now this valley is a very soli- tary place. The prophet Jeremiah thus de- scribes 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 liever’s pilgrimage through this world to heaven. Low-spirited persons, of a gloom}' 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 advantage of our weak- ness, and to impress, if possible, distressing ideas on the mind, when it is most disposed to receive them. At such times the imagination is crowded with terri- ble ideas, every thing looks black and big with dan- ger, reason itself is disturbed in its exercises, 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 Satan’s devices, 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 harassed in this way, be has given us a .arger proportion of this shade than is met with by consistent believers, or than the Scriptures by any means give us reason to expect : and probably he meant hereby to state the outlines of his own experienee in the pil- grimage of Christian; all due honour must be given to the words of Christ, who has declared, “ He that followeth me (Christ) shall not walk in darkness.” Let ns be found in a constant exercise of faith in the great and precious promises, then shall we rejoiea evermore, and in every thing give thanks. J IS B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Christian) passeth through, and where no man than in his fight with Apollyon , as bv the dwelt.” Jer. ii. 6. sequel you shall see. Now here Christian was worse put to it CHAPTER X. Chr istian sorely distressed in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, through which, however, he passes unhurt. 1 3AW then in my dream, that when Chris- tian was got on the borders of the Shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that brought up an evil report of the good land, (Num. xiii.,) making haste to go back;* to whom Christian spoke as follows: Whither are you going ? They said, 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 news to thee. But what have you met with ? said Chris- tian. Men. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, (Ps. xliv. 19 ;) 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 hob- goblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit: we heard also in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as of people under unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons ; and fiver that Valley hang the discour- aging clouds of confusion : death also doth always spread his wings over it. Job iii. 5; x. * Such we frequently meet with ; who set out with- out a sense of sin, true faith, real hope, and sincere lovo to Christ; and as sure as they go back from a profession, they bring up an evil report of the way to the kingdom of Christ. f See what it is, when men are left to will and choose for themselves, 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 tlesh and blood, hence true faith is tried, and a mere empty profession made manifest. 22. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without order. Then said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven. Men. Be it thy way ; we will not choose it for ours.f 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 Val- ley reached there was on the right hand a very deep ditch ; that ditch is it unto which the blind have led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished.! Again, be- hold, on the left hand there was a very dan- gerous quag, into which if even a good man falls he finds no bottom for his foot to stand on : into this quag King David once did fall, and had, no doubt, therein been smothered, had not he that is able plucked him out. Ps. lxix. 14. The pathway was here also exceeding nar- row, and therefore good Christian was the more put to it ; for when he sought in the dark to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the other : also when he sought to escape the mire, without great carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch. || Thus he went on, and I heard him here sigh bitterly : for besides the danger men- tioned above, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes when he lifted up his foot to go 1 The ditch on the right hand is error in principle, into which the blind (as to spiritual truths, blind guides) lead the blind, who are not spiritually en- lightened. The quag on the left hand, means outward sins and wickedness, which many fall into. Both are alike dangerous to pilgrims ; but the Lord will keep the feet of his saints. 1 Sam. ii. 9. || A tender conscience is as much afraid of corrupt principles, as of sinful practices. This manifests the sincerity of the soul, even when a Christian is as- saulted by the most violent and complicated tempta- tions. 119 THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. forward, he knew not where, nor upon what he should 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 Apollyon before,) that he was forced to put up his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called alt-prayer: so he cried in my hearing, “O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my soul.” Ps. cxvi. 4; Eph. vi. 18. Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him: also he heard doleful voices, and rushing to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn to pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these dread- ful noises were heard by him for several miles together : and coming to a place where he thought he heard a company of fiends* com- ing forward to meet him, he stopiped, and be- gan to muse what he had best to do : some- times he had half a thought to go back; then again he thought he might be half way through the Valley: he remembered also how he had already vanquished many a danger : and that the danger of going back might be much more than for to go forward. So he re- solved to go on : yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer: but when they were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, “ I will walk in the strength of the Lord God;” so they gave back, and came no further. One thing I would not let slip : I took no- tice that now poor Christian was so confounded that he did not know his own voice ; and thus I perceived it; just when he was come over against the mouth of the burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to him, which he s But it may be asked, Why doth the Lord suffer his children to be so afflicted? It is for his glory; it tries their faith in him, and excites prayer to him ; but his love abates not in the least towards them, since he lovingly inquires after them, “Who is there among you that feareth the Lord, and walketh in darkness, and hath no light?” Then ho gives most precious advice to them. Let him trust in the Lord, and stay himself upon his God. Isa. i. 10. f Now hero the conscience manifests its tenderness by abhorring the evil of Satan’s suggestions. Oh verily thought had proceeded from his own mind! This put Christian more to it than any thing that he met with before, even to think that lie should now blaspheme him that he loved so much before ; yet if he could have helped it he would not have done it: but he had not the discretion either to 6top his cars or to know from whence those blasphemies came.f When Christian had travelled in this dis- consolate condition some considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man as going before him, saying, ” Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death I will fear no ill, for thou art with me.” + Ps. xxiii. 4. Then was he glad, and that for these rea- sons : first, because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in this Valley as well as himself:— secondly, for that he per- ceived God was with them, though in that dark and dismal state : and why not, thought he, with me? though, by reason of the imped- iment that attends this place I cannot per- ceive it: (Job ix. 11) — thirdly, for that he hoped (could he overtake them) to have com- pany by and by. So he went on, aud called to him that was before; but he knew not what to answer, for that he also thought himself to be alone. And by and by the day broke: then said Christian, Pie hath “turned the shadow of death into the morning.” || Amos v. 8. Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but to see by tho light of the day what hazards he had gone through in the dark : so he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and tha 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 oft’, 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.” Job xii. 22. what nigh access has the enemy to our hearts! But the Lord is also nigh, to save to the uttermost all who trust in him : he will hear their cry, and save them. Ps. xxiii. 4. $ Tho experience of other saints is very encour- aging. for the soul finds that others have gone before in dreadful and dreary paths. || To walk in darkness, and not to be distressed for it, argues stupidity of soul. To hare the light of God's countenance shine upon us, and not to rejoice and be thankful, is impossible. 120 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Now was Christian much affected with his deliverance from all the dangers of his solitary way ; which dangers, though he feared them more before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day made them con- spicuous to him. And about this time the sun was rising; and this was another mercy to Christian : for you must note, that though the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous ; yet this second part, which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more dan- gerous :* for, from the place where he now stood, even to the end of the Valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, gins, and nets, here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings down there ; that had it been dark, as it was when he came the first part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been cast away : but, as I said just now, the sun was rising. Then said he, “His candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go through darkness.” Job xxix. 3. In this light therefore he came to the end of the Valley. 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, * This means the raging of persecution for the truth's sake, and those dreadful deaths which the mar- tyrs suffered in the cause of Christ and his glorious Gospel and precious salvation. But here Christian had the blessed light of the glorious Gospel. f The inhabitants of this kingdom are not thought to be in any immediate danger, either from Pope or Pagan. Yet something like the philosophical part of Paganism seems to be rising from the dead, while Popery grows more infirm than over: 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 general toleration it is not improbable, (says the Eev. Mr. Scott,) but Pagan persecution may also in due time revive. Our author, however, has described no other persecution than what blood, ashes, &c., lay there were cruelly put to death. But by this place Christian went with- out much danger, whereat I somewhat won- dered ; 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 by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them. So I saw that Christian went on his way : yet at the sight of the old man that sat in the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think; especially because he spoke to him, though he could not go after him, saying, “ You will never mend till more of you be burned.” But he held his peace, and set a good face on it, and so went by and catched no hurt.! Then sang Christian, “Oh world of wonders! (I can say no less) That I should be preserv’d in that, distress That I have met with here ! Oh 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.” Protestants iu his time carried on against each other with very great alacrity. I Nothing shall harm us while we are followers of that which is good. This every faithful soul can tes- tify ; for the Lord will give grace and glory, and no good thing will be withheld from those who walk up- rightly. Such are the inestimable blessings conse- quent on steadfastly fighting the good fight of faith. The real Christian, amidst all his temptations, shall hold od 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 me forth To conquest and a crown. A feeble saint shall win the day, Tko’ death and hell obstruct the way. rr«rt* THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 121 CHAPTER XI. Christian meets with an excellent companion in Faithful, with whom lie has much profitable conversation. Now us Christian went on his way, lie came to a little ascent, which was cast up on pur- pose that pilgrims might see before them.* Up there, therefore, Christian went, and look ing forward, he saw Faithful before him upon his journey. Then said Christian aloud, “Ho, hoi so ho! stay, and I will be your compan- ion.” At that Faithful looked behind him ; to whom Christian cried, “Stay, stay, till I come to you;” but Faithful answered, “No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is be- hind me.” f At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength, he quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him ; so the last was first. Then did Christian vain-glor- iously smile, because he had gotten the start of his brother : but not taking good heed to his feet, he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful came up to help him.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 Faith- ful, I am glad that I have overtaken you : and that God has so tempered our spirits that we can walk as companions in this so pleasant a path. || Faithful. 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. Christian. How long did you stay in the city of Destruction, before you set out after me on your pilgrimage ? Faithful. Till I could stay no longer ;§ for there was great talk presently after you were gone out, that our city would, in a short time, * 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 their way, that they may look forward with pleasure and delight. f It is good to beware and be jealous of what com- pany we fall into. Many have joined hurtful profes- sors instead of profitable pilgrims. J How soon doth spiritual pride show its cursed head, in thinking we have outstripped 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 with fire from heaven be burned down to the ground. Christian. What! and did your neighbours talk so? Faith f ul. Yes, it was for a while in every body’s mouth. Christian. What ! and did no more of them but you come out to escape the danger? Faithful. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do not think they did firmly believe it. For, in the heat of the dis- course, I heard some of them deridingly speak of you and your desperate journey ; for so they called this your pilgrimage. But I did believe, and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone from above; and there- fore I have made my escape. Christian. Did you hear no talk of neighbour Pliable? Faithful. Yes, Christian, I heard that he fol- lowed you till he came to the slough of De- spond : where, as some said, ho fell in ; but he would not be known to have so done ; but I am sure he was soundly bedaubed with that kind of dirt. Christian. And what said the neighbours to him ? Faithful. He hath since his going back been had greatly in derision, and that among all sorts of people; some do mock and despise him, and scarce will any set him on work. He is now seven times worse than if he had never gone out of the city. Christian. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despised the way that he forsook? Faithful. Oh, they say, “ Hang him ; he is a turncoat ! he was not true to his profession I think God has stirred up even his enemies to need to help us, whom wo had frequently under- valued. || This episode, so to speak, with others of the same kind, gives our author a happy advantage of varying the characters and experiences of Christians, as found in real life : and of thus avoiding the common fault of making one man a standard for others, in the eircuir - stances of his religious progress. § This is the case with every pilgrim. From the powerful convictions which he has from above, of his state and danger, he is urged by necessity to flee from the wrath to come. 122 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. hiss at him, and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way. Jer. xxix. 18, 19. Christian. Had you no talk with him before you came out? Faithful. I met him once in the streets, but he leered away on the other side, as one ashamed of what he had done : so I spake not to him.* Christian. Well, at my first setting out, I had hopes of that man ; but now I fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city : for “ it hath happened to him according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his vomit again ; and the sow that was washed, to her wallowing in the mire.” 2 Pet. ii. 22. Faithful. They are my fears of him too : but t\ho can hinder that which will be? Well, neighbour Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk of things that more im- mediately concern ourselves. Tell me now what you have met with in the way as you came: for I know you have met with some things, or else it may be writ for a wonder. Faithful. I escaped the slough that I perceived you fell into, and got up to the gate without that danger ; f only I met with one, whose name was Wanton, that had like to have done me a mischief. Christian. It was well you escaped her net ; Joseph was hard put to it by her, and he es- caped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his life. Gen. xxxix. 11, 13. But what did she say to you ? Faithful. You cannot think, but that you know something, what a flattering tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, prom- ising me all manner of content. J Christian. Nay, she did not promise you the content of a good conscience. Faithful. You know that I mean all carnal and fleshly content. Christian. Thank God you have escaped her : “ the abhorred of the Lord shall fall into her ditch.” Prov. xxii. 14. Faithful. Nay, I know not whether I did wholly escape her or no.|| * Apostatfes from the profession of Christ cannot look his followers boldly in the face; some eonvfctions will follow them, till their hearts are hardened, and their consciences seared. f Though no sinner will flee from the wrath to come to Christ for salvation, till the Spirit has convinced of sin, ami deserved wrath and destruction: yet all do not fall under the like despondency of soul, at first setting out. J Fleshly lusts will plead hard, and promise fair. Ilappy those who look to the Lord for power against Christian. Why, I trow you did not consent to her desires. Faithful. No, not to defile myself; for I re- membered an old writing that I had seen which said, “ her steps take hold on hell.” Prov. v. 5 ; Job xxxi. 1. So I shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks : then she railed on me and I went my way. Christian. Did you meet with no other as- sault as you came ? Faithful. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound? I told him that I was a pilgrim to the Celestial City. Then said the old man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow ; wilt thou be content to dwell with me, for the wages that I shall give thee ? Then I asked him his name, and where he dwelt? He said his name was Adam the first, § and that he dwelt in the town of Deceit. Eph. iv. 22. 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 I should be his heir at last. I further asked what house he kept, and what other servants he had? So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties in the world, and that his servants were those of his own begetting. Then I asked how many children he had? He said, that he had but three daughters, “the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life,” (1 John ii. 16 ;) and that I should marry them if I would. Then I asked how long time he would have me to live with him ? And he told me, as long as he lived himself. Christian. Well, and what conclusion came the old man and you to at last? Faithful. Why, at first I found myself some- what inclinable to go with the man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead as I talked with him, I saw there written, “Put off the old man with his deeds.” H Christian. And how then? them, and eye his precious promises, that we may es- cape them. || A jealous conscience is grieved for temptations of the flesh to lust, and can hardly quit itself .of guilt. This makes the cleansing blood of Christ exceeding precious, while the soul is sunk into humility and self-loathing. jl That is original sin, and inward corruption, which has infected our whole nature. Blessed is the man who does not consult with flesh and blood, but looks to and obeys what' is written by the Lord. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 123 Faithful. Then it came burning hot into my mind, whatever lie said and however he flat- tered, when lie got me home to his house lie would sell me for a slave. So I hid him for- bear to talk, for I would not come near the door of his house. Then he reviled me, and told me, that lie would send such a one after me, that should make my way hitter to my soul. So I turned to go away from him ; hut just as I turned myself to go thence I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch hack, that I thought lie had pulled part of me after himself:* this made me cry, “ 0 wretched man!” Kom. vii. 24. So I went on my way up the hill. Now, when I had got about half-way up I looked behind me, and saw one coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the place where the settle stands. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; hut being overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom. Faithful. But, good brother, hear me out: so soon as the man overtook me, he was hut a word and a blow; for down he knocked me, and laid me for dead. But when I was a little come to myself again, I asked him wherefore lie served me so? He said, Because of thy secret inclination to Adam the first: t and with that he struck me another deadly blow on the breast, and heat me down backward: so I lay at his foot as dead as before. When I came to myself again I cried to him for 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 hid him forbear. Christian. Who was it that bid him forbear? Faithful. I did not know him at first, but as he went by I perceived the holes in his hands and his side: then I concluded that he was our Lord. So I went up the hill. Christian. The man that overtook you was * Though original sin is hard to be borne, it is good to be sensible of its evil. Though it makes us cry, “0 wretched!” yet it tends to keep up a sense of our want of Christ, and of the worth of him, and that nothing less than being delivered by the blood of Christ, will perfect our salvation. t This is afterwards explained to bo Moses, or the law of God. Think not that the law reachcth only to outward actions: nay, but it reachcth to the thoughts and intents of the heart. It knocks a man's hopes down and curses him to death, oven only for secretly inclining to sin. So striot, so spiritual, so pure, is the holy law of God. Hence none but self-righteous, vain- glorious souls oan place the least confidence in their Moses. He spareth none, neither knowetli he how to show mercy to those that transgress his law. Faithful. I know it very well ; it was not the first time that lie has met with me. It was he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and told me he would burn my house- over my head if I stayed there.! Christian. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the hill on the side of which Moses met you? Faithful. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it: — hut, for the lions, I think they were asleep; for it was about noon ; — and because I had so much of the day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the hill. Christian. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by; hut I wish yfcu had called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities, that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death. But pray tell me, did you meet nobody in the valley of Humility? Faithful. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have persuaded me to go hack again with him : his reason was, for that the valley was altogether without 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 he very much offended if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through this valley. || Christian. Well, and how did you answer him? Faithful. I told him, That although all these that he named might claim kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my re- lations according to the flesh;) yet since I be- came a pilgrim, they have disowned me, and I also have rejected them; and therefore they are to me now no more than if they had never obedience to the law, and trust in their own righteous- ness for justification. J That sinner who never had a threatening fiery visit from Moses, is yet asleep in his sins, and seeure in his soul, though under the curse and wrath of the fiery law of God. || Here observe the different experience of Chris- tians, in regard to the enemies they meet with. IV e do not read that Christian was attacked by Discon- tent, as Faithful was: but yet Faithful reasoned, and got the better of this enemy. Many pilgrims go on much more contented than others. The reasoning of faith will ever prevail over that discontent which springs from pride, arrogancy, self-conceit, and a thirst for worldly glory, riches, and pleasure. 124 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. been of my lineage. I told him, moreover, that as to this valley, he had quite misrepre- sented the thing; for “before honour is hu- mility,” “and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Therefore, said I, I 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. Christian. Met you with nothing else in that valley ? Faithful. Yes, T met with Shame; but'ofall the men that I met with in my pilgrimage, he, I think, bears the wrong name. The other would be said nay, after a little argumentation and somewhat else, but that bold-faced Shame would never have done. Christian. Why, what did he say to you ? Faithful. What! why he objected against re- ligion itself; he said, it was a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion ; he said that a tender conscience was an un- manly thing; and that for a man to watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up him- self from that hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the times accustomed themselves unto, would make him the ridicule of the times. He objected also, that but few mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my opinion; nor any of them neither, before they were per- suaded to be fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all for nobody knows what. John vii. 48 ; 1 Cor. i. 26 ; iii. 18; Phil. iii. 7, 9. lie moreover objected the base and low estate and condition of those that were chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived ; also their ignorance, and want of understanding in all natural science. Yea, he did hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more things than here I relate ; as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home: that it was a shame to ask my 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- * Nothing can be a stronger proof that we have lost the image of God, than that shame which is natural to us, concerning the things 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 boldly for Christ and his cause, than stand shivering on the brink of profession, ever dreading the loss of cause of the same religious fraternity; and ts not this, said he, a shame?* Christian. And what did you say to him ? Faithful. 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 consider that “ that which is highly esteemed among men is had in abomination with God.” Luke xvi. 15. And I thought agaii^, This Shame tells me what men are ; but it tells me nothing what God, or the word of God is. And I thought moreover, that at the day of doom we shall not be doomed to death or life, according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but accord- ing to the wisdom and law of the Highest. Therefore, thought I, what God says is best, though all the men in the world are against it : seeing then that God prefers his religion ; seeing God prefers a tender conscience; seeing they that make themselves fools for the king- dom of heaven are wisest; and that the poor man that loves Christ is richer than the greatest man in the world that hates him — Shame, de- part, thou art an enemy to my salvation ; shall I entertain thee against my sovereign Lord ? how then shall I look him in the face at his coming? Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I expect the bless- ing? Mark viii. 38. But indeed this Shame was a bold villain ; I could scarce shake him out of my company : yea, he would be haunt- ing of me, and continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the in- firmities that attend religion : but at last I told him, it was but in vain to attempt further in this business; for those things that he dis- dained, in those I did see most glory : and so at last I got past this importunate one. And when I had shaken him off then I began to sing : “ The trials that those men do meet withal, That are obedient to the heavenly call, Are manifold, and suited to the flesh, And come, and come, and come again afresh. That now, or sometimes else, we by them may Be taken, overcome, and cast away. Oh let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims, then Be vigilant, and ’quit themselves like men.” our good name and reputation : 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. 3-S. It is one thing to be attacked by shame: and another THE PILGRIM Christian. T am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand this villain so bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he had the wrong name: for he is so bold as to follow us in the streets and to attempt to put us to shame before all men : that is, to make us ashamed of that which is good.* But if be ivas not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do as he does : but let us still resist him ; for, notwithstanding all bis bravadoes, he pro- motetli the fool, and none else. “ The wise shall inherit glory,” said Solomon, “ but shame shall be the promotion of fools.” Prov. iii. 35. Faithful. I think we must cry to him, for help against Shame, that would have us be valiant for truth upon the earth. Christian. You say true: but did you meet nobody else in that valley? Faithful. No, not I, for I had sunshine all the 'S PROGRESS. 125 rest of the way through that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Christian. It was well for you ; I am sure it fared far otherwise with me : I had for a long season, as soon as almost 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 mo down, and crushed me under him, ns if he would have crushed me to pieces: for as he threw me, my sword flew out of my hand ; nay, he told me he was sure of me ; but I cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles. Then I entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light for almost half the way through it. I thought I should have been killed there over and over : but at last day brake, and the sun arose, and I went through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet. CHAPTER XII. The picture of an empty professor accurately drawn in the character of Talkative, son of Mr. Say-well, of Prating-row. Moreover I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as he chanced to look on one side, saw a man, whose name is Talkative, walking at a distance besides them ;f for in this place there was room enough for them all to walk. He was a tall man, and something- more comely at a distance than at hand. To this man Faithful addressed himself in this manner : Friend, whither away? are you going to the heavenly country? Talkative. I am going to the same place. Faithful. That is well : then I hope we may have your good company. Talkative. With a very good will will I be your companion. Faithful. Come on then, and let us go to- gether, and let us spend our time in discoursing of things that are profitable. * Christian experiences perfectly agree in regard to shame. No one ever set out for glory, but he was attacked by shame in the way. Giving way to shame, prevents much glory being brought to our Jesus, who is not ashamed to call us brethren. Iteb. ii. 11. Alas! we are prone to be ashamed of Christ, of his words, and of his ways, which should be our greatest glory. Oh lot us cry for more boldness for Christ, our best friend, that shame may hide its pitiful head, and skulk away from us as our greatest enemy. Talkative. To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, with you or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with those that incline to so good a work; for, to speak the truth, there are but few that care thus to spend their time as they are iii their travels ; but choose much rather to be speak- ing of things to no profit : and this hath been a trouble to me. Faithful. That is indeed a thing to be la- mented ; for what thing so worthy of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of the God of heaven ? Talkative. I like you wonderful well, for your sayings are full of conviction : and, I will add, what things are so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to talk of the things of God? What things so pleasant? that is, if a man Asham’d of Jesus ! yes we may, When we’ve no sin to wash away, No tears to wipe, no joys to crave, Or no immortal soul to save. f There is a great difference between having notions in the head, and being able to talk of doctrines of grace, and experiencing the grace and power of those doctrines in the heart. Look to yourselves. 2 John S. 126 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. hath any delight in things that are wonderful : for instance, if a man doth delight to talk of the history or the mystery of things; or if a man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he find things recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the Holy Scripture? Faithful. That’s true : hut to be profited hy such things in our talk be our chief design. Talkative. 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 what are the great promises and consola- tions of the Gospel, to his own comfort. Fur- ther, by this a man may learn to refute false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the ignorant.* Faithful. All this is true, and glad am I to hear these things from you. Talkative. Alas ! the want of this is the cause that so few understand the need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their souls, in order to eternal life ; but ignorantly live in the works of the law, hy which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven. Faithful. But, by your leave, heavenly know- ledge of these is the gift of God ; no man at- taineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of them. Talkative. All that I know very well: for a man can receive nothing except it be given him from heaven ; all is of grace, not of works : I could give you an hundred Scriptures for the confirmation of this. Well then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall at this time found our dis- course upon ? Talkative. What you will: I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly; things moral, or things evangelical; things sacred, *' Is not here the very standard of orthodoxy? Hence observe, a mere professor may learn, like a parrot, to talk of sound doctrines, and may have a sound judgment concerning them; while his heart is rotten, as to any experience of them, love to them, and the power and influence of them upon his affec- tions and his life. Many own Christ for their master now, whom as their judge he will condemn hereafter. or things profane; things past, or things to come ; things foreign, or things at home ; things more essential, or things circumstantial; pro- vided that all be done to our profit. Now did Faithful begin to wonder; and stepping to Christian (for he walked all this while by himself) he said to him, but softly, What a brave companion have we got ! surely this man will make a very excellent pilgrim. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with whom you are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his twenty of them who know him not. Faithful. Do you know him then ? Christian. Know him? yes, better than he knows himself. Faithful. Pray what is he ? Christian. His name is Talkative; hedwelleth in our town ; I wonder that you should be a stranger to him ; only I consider that our town is large. Faithful. Whose son is he? and whereabouts doth he dwell ? Christian. He is the son of one Say-well, he dwelt in Prating- row; and is known, of all that are acquainted with him, by the name of Talk- ative in Prating-row ; and, notwithstanding his fine tongue, he is but a sorry fellow.f Faithful. Well, he seems to be a very pretty man. Christian. That is, to them that have not a thorough acquaintance with him ; for he is the 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. Faithful. I am ready to think you do but jest, because you smiled. Christian. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or that I should accuse any falsely. I will give you a further discovery of him : this man is for any company, and for any talk ; as he talketh now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale-bench ; and the more drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his mouth : religion hath no place in his heart, or f Are we not forbid to speak evil of any man ? Ti- tus iii. 2. Is not Christian guilty of this? No; for where the glory of God, and honour of the Gospel is at stake, aud there is danger of a brother’s being de- ceived bj' a mere talkative, loose, wicked professor, here it is right, and the nature of things require it, that we should detect aud expose such in a becoming spirit. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 127 house, or conversation ; nil he hath liethgn his tongue, and his religion is to make a noise therewith.* PnWful. Say you so? then I am in this man greatly deceived. Christian. Deceived! you may be sure of it: remember the proverb, “ They say, and do not;” but “ the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power.” Matt, xxiiii 3 ; 1 Cor. iv. 20. lie talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and of the new birth ; but he knows but only to talk of them. I have been in his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad ; and I know what I say of him is the truth. 11 is house is as empty of religion, as the white of an egg is of savour. There is there neither prayer, nor sign of repentance for sin ; yea, the brute, in his kind, serves God far better than he. lie is the very stain, re- proach, and shame of religion, to all that know him, (Rom. ii. 23, 24;) it can hardly have a good word in all that end of the town where he dwells, through him. Thus say the com- mon people that know him — “ A saint abroad, and a devil at home.” His poor family finds it so : he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so unreasonable with his servants, that they neither know how to do for, or speak to him. Men that have any dealings with him say it is better to deal with a Turk than with him ; for fairer dealings they shall have at their hands. This Talkative, if it be possible, will go beyond them, defraud, beguile, and over-reach them. Besides, be brings up his sons to follow his steps : and if he finds in any of them a “foolish timorousness,” (for so he calls the first appear- ance of a tender conscience,) he calls them fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or speak to their com- mendation 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.f * Sueh professors there are now, as there always were. Tho blessed cause is wounded by them, and the most glorious truths through them are brought into contempt. There is more hurt to be got by them, than from the utterly ignorant and profane. Shun and avoid such. f Read this and tremble, yo whoso profession lies only on your tongue, but who never experienced the love and grace of Christ in your souls. Oh how do you trifle with the grace of God, and with the holy word of truth ! Oh what an awful account have you to give hereafter to a holy, heart-searching God ! Ye true pilgrims of Jesus, read this, and give glory to your Lord, for saving you from resting iu barren no- Faithful. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you ; not only because you say you know him, but also because like a Christian you make your reports of men. For I cannot think that you speak those things of ill will, but because it is even so as you say. Christian. Had I known him no more than you, I might perhaps have thought of him as at the first you did: yea, had I received this report at their hands only, that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had been a slander, (a lot that often falls from bad men’s mouths, upon good men’s names and profes- sions:) but all these things, yea, and a great many more as bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of. Besides, good men are ashamed of him ; they can neither call him brother nor friend: the very naming of him among them, makes them blush, if they know him. Faithful. Well, I see that saying and doing arc two things, and hereafter I shall better ob- serve this distinction. Christian. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are the soul and the body ; for, as the body without the soul is but a dead car- cass, so saying, if it be alone, is but a dead carcass also. The soul of religion is the prac- tical part : “ pure religion and undefiled, before God and the Father, is this : to visit the father- less and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” James i. 22, 27. This Talkative is not aware of; he thinks that hearing and saying will make a good Christian ; and thus he deceivetli his own soul. Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed; talking is not sufficient to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life : and let us assure ourselves that at the day of doom men shall be judged according to their fruits, (Matt, xiii. 23;) it will not be said then, “Did you believe?” but “Were you doers, or talkers only?” t and accordingly shall they be judged. tions, and taking up with talking of truths: and that he has given you to know the truth in its power, to embrace it in your heart, and to livo and walk un- der its sanctifying influences. Who made you to differ? J Though sinners are redeemed, and their sins washed away by the blood of Christ — though by faith they arc fully justified — though the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ; yet none are par- takers of these invaluable blessings, but those who have living faith in Christ. And this faith, which is the gift of God, manifests itself by its obedience to the will of God, and in bringing forth fruits to the glory of God. Therefore let no one deceive himself; for. 128 BUNT AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. The end of the -world is compared to our har- vest; and you know men at harvest regard nothing hut fruit. Not that anything can he accepted that is not of faith ; but I speak this to. show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that day. Faithful. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he described the beast that is clean. (Lev. xi ; Deut. xiv.) — he is such an one that parteth the hoof and cheweth the cud ; not that parteth the hoof only, or that chew- eth the cud only. The hare cheweth the cud, but yet is unclean, because he parteth not the hoof. And this truly resembleth Talkative ; he cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge ! he cheweth upon the word ; but he divideth not the hoof, but he parteth not with the way of sinners ; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot of a dog or bear, and therefore he is unclean. Christian. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true Gospel sense of those texts. Aud I will add another thing : Paul calleth some men, yea, and those great talkers too, “ sounding brass and tinkling cymbals that is, as he expounds them in another place, “things without life, giving sound.” 1 Cor. xiii. 1, 3. “Things without life that is, with- out the true faith and grace of the Gospel ; and consequently things that shall never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are the children of life, though their sound, by their talk, be as it were the tongue or voice of an angel. ' Faithful. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but am as sick of it now. What shall we do to be rid of him? Christian. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he will soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart and turn it. Faithful. What would you have me to do ? Christian. Why, go to him, and enter into some s'-rious discourse about tire poiver of re- ligion; and ask him plainly, when he has ap- proved of it, (for that he will,) whether this thing be set up in his heart, house, or conver- sation ? * * Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come, what cheer? how is it now? faith without works is dead, and a dead faith never begets living hope upon a risen Saviour; nor will it avail, when he shall appear as the Judge. * Without this, all is empty notion, mere sound, and unavailing profession. Men only take up fancy for faith; the form of godliness, instead of the power: Talkative. Thank you, well; I thought we should have had a great deal of talk by this time. Faithful. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now ; and since you left it with me to state the question, let it be this : How doth the sav- ing grace of God discover itself when it is in the heart of man ? Talkative. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about th e. power of things: well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you; and take my answer in brief thus : — first, where the grace of God is in the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin. Secondly — Faithful. Nay, hold, let us consider of one at once: -I think you should rather say, It shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin. Talkative. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and abhorring of, sin? Faithful. Oh ! a great deal. A man may cry out against sin, of policy, but he cannot abhor it but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it : I have heard many cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it well enough in the heart, house, and conversation. Joseph’s mistress cried with a loud voice, as if she had been very holy ; but she would will- ingly, notwithstanding that, have committed uncleanness with him. Gen. xxxix. 11, 15. ! Some cry out against sin, even as the mother cries out against her child in her lap, when she j calleth it slut, and naughty girl, and then falls < to hugging and kissing it. Talkative. You lie at the catch, I perceive. Faithf ul. No, not I ; I am only for setting | things right. But what is the second thing whereby you will prove a discovery of a work of grace in the heart? Talkative. Great knowledge of Gospel mys- teries. Faithful. This sign should have been first; but, first or last, it is also false ; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained in the mys- teries of the gospel, and yet no work of grace in the soul. 1 Cor. xiii. Yea, if a man have all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so, consequently be no child of God. When and the old nature is dressed up in the specious ap- pearance of new pretensions. True faith will ever show itself by its fruits ; a real conversion, by the life and conversation. Be not deceived: God is not mocked with the tongue, if the heart is not right to- wards him in love and obedience. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 123 Christ said, “Do vo know all these things?” and the disciples had answered, Yes, — he added, “ Blessed are ye if ye do them.” He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but in the doing of them. For there is a knowledge that is not attended with doing: “he that knoweth his master’s will, and doetli it not.” A man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian : therefore your sign of it is not true. Indeed, to know, is a thing that pleaseth talkers and boasters ; but to do, is that which pleaseth God. Not that the heart can be good without knowledge ; for without that the heart is naught. There are therefore two sorts of knowledge : knowledge that restetli in the bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is accompanied with the grace of faith and love, which puts a man upon doing even the will of God from the heart: the first of these will serve the talker; but without the other, the true Christian is not content : “ Give me understanding, and I shall keep thy law ; yea, I shall observe it with my whole heart.” Ps. cxix. 34. Talkative. You lie at the catch again; this is not for edification. Faithful. Well, if you please, propound another sign- how this work of grace discover- ed! itself where it is. Talkative. Not I ; for I see we shall not v agree. Faithful. Well, if you will not, will you give me leave to do it? Talkative. You may use your liberty. Faithful. A work of grace in the soul dis- covered! itself either to him that hath it, or to standers by. . To him that hath it, thus : it gives him con- viction 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. Mark xvi. 16 ; John xvi. 8, 9 ; Rom. vii. 24. This sight and sense of things worketh in him sorrow and shame for sin ; he findeth, moreover, revealed in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing with him for life ; at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings after him ; to which hungerings, &c., the promise is made. Ps. * This, and this only, is what will evidence that we arc real disciples of Christ, honour his name and his truths, and recommend his religion in the world. Without this power of godliness, we have only a name to live, while we are dead to the power of the Gospel. Examine yourself : look to your ways. 9 xxxviii. 18; .Ter. xxxi. 19; Matt. v. 6; Acts iv. 12; Gal. i. 15, 16; Rev. xxi. 0. Now accord- ing to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to know him more, and also to serve him in this world. But though, I say, it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is able to conclude that this is a work of grace : because his corruptions now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter: therefore in him that hath his work, there is required a very sound judgment, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of grace. To others it is thus discovered: — 1. By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ. 2. By a life answerable to that confession ; to wit, a life of holiness, heart-holiness: family- holiness, (if he hath a family,) and by conver- sation-holiness in the world ; which in the general teacheth him inwardly to abhor his sin, and himself for that in secret; to suppress it in his family, and to promote holiness in the world: not by talk only, as ail hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection in faith and love to the power of the word.* Ps. 1. 23; Ezek. xx. 43; Matt. v. 8; John xiv. 15; Rom. x. 9, 10; Phil. iii. 17, 20. And now, sir, as to this brief description of the work of grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have auglit to object, object ; if not, tlie’n give me leave to propound to you a second question. Talkative. Nav, mv part is not now to object, but to hear : let me therefore have your second question. Faithful. It is this: Do you experience this first part of the description of it; and doth your life and conversation testify the same? or standeth your religion in icord or tongue, and not in deed and truth ? Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the God above will say Amen to; and also nothing but what your conscience can justify you in : “ for not he who commendeth himself is approved, but whom the Lord commendeth.” Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my conversation and all my neighbours tell me I lie, is great wickedness.! Then Talkative at first began to blush ; but recovering himself, thus he replied : You come f Blessed, faithful dealing ! Oh that it was uiorc practised in the world and in the church ! How then would vain talkers be detected in the one, and driven out of the other ! 130 B U NY AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. now to experience, to conscience, and God; and to appeal to him for justification of what is spoken : this kind of discourse I did not ex- pect ; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such questions; because I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take upon you to be a catechiser: and though you should so do, yet I may refuse to make you my judge. But I pray, will you tell me why you ask me such questions ? * Faithful. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that you had aught else but notion. Besides, to tell you all the truth, I have heard of you, that you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and that your con- versation gives this your profession the lie. They say you are a spot among Christians; and that religion fareth the worse for your un- godly 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 to- gether. The proverb is true of you, which is said of a harlot, to wit, that “she is a shame to all women ;” so you are a shame to all pro- fessors. Talkative. Since you are ready to take up re- ports, and to judge so rashly as you do, I can- not but conclude you are some peevish or mel- ancholic man, not fit to be discoursed 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 # Heart-searching, soul-examining, and close ques- tioning of the conduct of life, will not do with talk- ative professors. Ring a peal on the doctrines of grace, and many will chime in with you; but speak closely how grace operates upon the heart, and in- fluences the life to follow Christ in self-denying obe- dience, they cannot bear it: they are offended with you, and will turn away from you, and call you legal. j- Where the heart is rotten, it will ward off convic- tion, turn from a faithful reprover, condemn him, and justify itself. Faithful dealing will not do for un- loss is no man’s but his own ; he has saved us the trouble of going from him ; for, he contin- uing (as I suppose he will do) as he is, he would have been but a blot in your company : besides, the apostle says, “ From such with- draw thyself.” Faithful. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him ; it may happen that he will think of it again : however, I have dealt plainly with him, and so am clear of his blood if he perisheth.J ' Christian. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did; there is but little of this faithful dealing with men now-a-days, and that makes religion to stink so in the nostrils of many as it doth : for there are these talkative fools, whose religion is only in words, and are debauched and vain in their conversation, that, being so much admitted into the fellowship of the godly, do puzzle the world, blemish Chris- tianity, and grieve the sincere. I wish that all men would deal with such as you have done ; then should they be either made more com- formable to religion, or the company of saints would be too hot for them. Then did Faithful say— “ How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes ! How bravely doth he speak ! How he presumes To drive down all before him ! But so soon As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon That’s past the full, into the wane he goes : And so will all but he that heart-work knows. - ’ Thus they went on talking of whatHhey had seen by the way, and so made that way easy which would otherwise no doubt have been tedious to them : for now they went through a wilderness.|| faithful souls. Mind not that, but be faithful to the truth. j; Mind this. These are right principles to act from, and right ends to have in view, in faithful reproving, or aiming to convict our fellow-sinners. Study and pursue these. || Spiritual observations and conferences on past ex- periences are very enlivening to the soul. They very often change the wilderness of dejection into a garden of delights ; and so beguile the weary steps of pil- grims through tedious paths. 0 Christians, look more to Christ, and talk more to each other of his love to you, and dealings with you. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 131 CHAPTER XIII. Persecution exhibited, in the treatment of Christian and Faithful in Vanity Fair. Now when Christian nml 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 yon- der? Then Christian looked, and said, It is my good friend Evangelist. Ay, and my good friend too, said Faithful ; for it was be 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. Christian. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist, the sight of thy countenance brings to my remembrance thy ancient kind- ness and unwearied labours for my eternal 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 behaved yourselves ?f Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to them in the way ; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to that place. Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have met with trials, but that you have been victors, and for that you have, not- withstanding many weaknesses, continued in the way to this very day. I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for my own sake and yours. I have sowed and you have reaped ; and the day is coming, when “ both he that sowed and they that reaped shall rejoice to- gether;” that is, if you hold out; “for in due time ye shall reap, if you faint not.” John iv. 36 ; Gal. vi. 9. The crown is before you, and it is an uncorruptible one ; “ so run that you may obtain it.” Some there be that set out * A sincere :uid cordial love for Gospel ministers, under a sense of tlieir being made instrumental to our sotil's profit, is a sure and a blessed sign of a pilgrim's spirit. t 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 ? Oh how Often do ministers visit and depart, without close ex- 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,” (1 Cor. iv. 24, 27; Rev. iii. 1 :) 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 invisible: let noth- ing that is on this side the other world get within you: and, above all, look well to your own hearts, and to the, lusts thereof, for they are “deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked :” set your faces like a flint; you have all power in heaven and earth on your side.J Then Christian thanked him for his ex- hortation; but told him withal, that they would have him speak further to them for their help the rest of the way; and the rather, for that they well knew that he was a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen unto them, and how they might resist and overcome them. To which request Faith- ful also consented. So Evangelist began 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 found some- thing- of the truth of these testimonies 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 town you will be hardly beset with enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you ; and be you sure that one or both of you must seal the testi- mony which you hold with blood : but “ be perimental converse with their people ! Hence both suffer present loss, and much harm is the consequence. J Here is a blessed word of encouragement, of warn- ing and of exhortation, to be steadfast in faith, joyful in hope, watchful over our hearts, and to abound in the work of the Lord. All this is constantly necessary for pilgrims. Faithful ministers will give advice, and I pilgrims will be thankful for sueh. 132 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a crown of life.” He that shall die there, although his death wiil be unnatural, and his pains perhaps great, he will yet have the better of his fellow, not only because he will be arrived at the Celestial City soonest, but because he will escape many miseries that the other will meet with in the rest of his journey. But when you are come to the town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here re- lated, then remember your friend, and ’quit yourselves like men; and commit the keeping of your souls to your God in “well-doing, as unto a faithful Creator.” * Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness, they presently saw a town before them; the name of that town is Vanity; and at that town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair: it is kept all the year long: it beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the town where it is kept is “lighter than vanity,” and also, because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity. As is the saying of the wise, “All that cometh is vanity.” Eccles. i. 2, 14; ii. 17 ; xi. 8; Isa. xl. 17. This fair is no new-erected business, but a thing of ancient standing : I will show you the original of it. Almost five thousand years agone, there were pilgrims walking to the Celestial City, as these two honest persons are: and Beelzebub, Apol- lyon, and Legion, with their companions, per- ceiving, by the path that the pilgrims 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 mer- chandise sold, as houses^ lands, trades, places, honours, preferments, titles, countries, king- doms, lusts, pleasures ; and delights of all sorts, as whores, bawds, wives, husbands, chil- * Woe unto'them that fold their hands, and fall asleep in strong confidence! You see what hard work jet lay before these pilgrims. Let us ever remember, this is not our rest. We must be pressing forward, fighting the good fight of faith, labouring to enter into that rest which remainetli for the people of God: looking diligently, lest we fail of the grace of God. Heb. xii. 5. f A just description of this wicked world. How many, though they profess to be pilgrims, have never yet set one foot out of this fair, but live in it all the year round ! They walk according to the course of this world. Eph.ii. 2. For the god of this world hath blinded their mind. 1 Cor. iv. 4. Y T ou cannot be a dren, 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 .he seen jugglings, cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves and rogues, and that of every kind. Here are tq be seen too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders, adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood-red colour, f And as in other fairs of less moment, there are several rows and streets under their proper names, where such wares are vended, so here likewise 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 commodity is as the chief of all the fair, so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in this fair: only our English nation, with some others, have taken a dislike thereat. J 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 through 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 this fair, that invited him to buy of his vanities; yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would he but have done him reverence as he went through the town : yea, because he was such a person of honour, Beelzebub had him from street to street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time, that he might, if possible, allure that Blessed One to cheapen and buy some of his vanities ; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and therefore left the town without laying out so pilgrim, if you are not delivered from this world and its vanities ; for if you love the -world, if it has yur supreme affections, the love of God is not in yon. 1 John ii. 15. Y’ou have not one grain of faith in Jesus. j The doctrine of the Church of Rome. It is much to be wished, that the vile presumption of man’s bar- tering with God, and purchasing a title to heaven, by his performing terms and conditions of salvation, meriting heaven bj- his good works, and procuring justification by his own obedience, to the exalting liia pride, and the debasing the work and glory of Christ, was totally rejected by us. But alas ! these proud, unscriptural notions too much prevail THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 133 much ns one farthing upon these vanities. Matt, iv; 8, 9; Luke iv. 5, 7. This fair, there- fore, 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, be- hold, even as they entered into the fair, all the people in the fair were moved, and the town itself, as it were, in a hubbub about them: and that for several reasons : for, First, The pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment, as was diverse from the rai- ment of any that traded in that fair. The people, therefore, of the fair, made a great gazing upon them: some said they were fools, (1 Cor. iv. 9, 10;) some, they were bedlams; and some, they were outlandish men. Secondly, And, as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at their speech ; for few could understand what they said : they naturally spoke the language of Canaan ; but they that kept the fair, were the men of this world : so that from one end of the fair to the other, they seemed barbarians each to the | other. Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was, that these pil- grims set very light by all their wares ; they cared not so much as to look upon them ; and if they called upon them to buy, they would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, “Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity,” (Ps. cxix. 37 ;) and look upwards, signifying, that their trade and traffic was in heaven. One chanced, mockingly, beholding the car- riages of the men, to say unto them, “ What will ye buy?” but they looking gravely upon him, said, We “ buy the truth!”* Prov. xxiii. 29. At that, there was an occasion taken to despise the men the more : some mocking, some taunting, some speaking reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them. At last, things came to a hubbub and great stir in * An odd reply. What do they mean? That they ; are neither afraid nor ashamed to own, what was the one object of their soul's pursuit — the Truth. Under- stand hereby that the whole world, which lieth in wickedness, suffer themselves to be deceived by a lie, and are under the delusion of the father of lies. In opposition to this, all believers in Christ are said to be of the truth. 1 John iii. 19. They know and be- lieve that capital truth with which God speaks from heaven, “ This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” Matt. iii. 17. This truth, that Jesus is the Son of God, and our only Saviour, lies at the founda- tion of all their hope; and to get more acquainted with him, is the grand object of their pursuit. For the fair, insomuch that all order was cor> foupded. Now was word presently brought to the great one of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty friends to take those men into examination, about whom the fair was almost overturned. So the men were brought to examination ; and they that sat upon them, aslced them whence they came, whither 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 Jeru- salem, (Ileb. xi. 13, 16;) and that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the merchandisers, thus to abuse them, and to stop them in their journey ; except it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they said they would buy the truth. But they that were appointed to exam- ine them, did not believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else such as came to put all things into confusion in the fair. There- fore they took them and beat them, and be- smeared them with dirt, and then put them into the cage, that they might be made a spec- tacle to all the men in the fair.f Therefore they lay for some time, and were made the objects of any man’s sport or malice, or revenge ; the great one of the fair laughing still at all that befell them. But the men being patient, and “ not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise, blessing,” and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries done, some men in the fair that were more observing and less prejudiced than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort, for their continual abuses done by them to the men: they there- fore in angry manner let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the cage, and telling them, that they seemed confede- rates, and should be made partakers of their misfortune. The others replied, that, for aught this the world hates them ; and Satan, who is an enemy to this truth, stirs up the world against them. “ For, (says our Lord,) they are not of the world, eveu as I am not of the world.” John xvii. 16. f If we possess nothing to distinguish ns from the rest of the world, which lieth in wickedness, and for which they will hate and despise us, wc have no reason to conclude that we are new creatures in Christ Jesus. If we are Christ's, we must become fools for Christ, and he counted as mad by those who know not Christ; for if alive to Christ, we shall be crucified to the world. “Woe be unto you, if all men speak well of you !” saith Christ. Luke vi. 26. 134 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. they could see, the men were quiet and sober and intended nobody any harm : and that there were many that traded in their fair, that were more worthy to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that they had abused. Thus after divers words had passed on both sides, (the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly before them,) they fell to some blows among them- selves, and did harm one to another.* Then were these two poor men brought before their examiners again, and there charged as being gui Ity of the late hubbub that had been in the fair. So they beat them pitifully and hanged irons upon them, and led them in chains up and down the fair, for an example and terror to others, lest any should speak in their be- half, or join themselves unto them. But Chris- tian and Faithful behav ed themselves yet more wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them, with so much meek- ness 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, inso- much that they concluded the death of these two men. Wherefore they threatened, that neither cage nor irons should serve their turn, but that they should die for the abuse they had done, and for deluding the men of the fair. Then they were remanded to the cage again, until further order should be taken with them. So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the stocks. Here, therefore, they called again to mind, what they had heard from their faithful friend E\angelist, and were the more confirmed in their ways and sufferings by what he told them would happen to them. They also now com- forted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should have the best of it ; there- fore each man secretly wished that he might have that preferment ; but committing them- selves to the all-wise disposal of Him that ruleth all things, with much content they # It is common for the world to be divided in their opinions about pilgrims. A Christian conduct and behaviour will put to silence the gainsaying of some wicked men ; and sometimes win others to become followers of Christ. 0 pilgrims, look well to your spirit, temper and conduct, towards the men of this world, who keep vanity fairs all the year. j‘ It is acting in the spirit and temper of Christ, that will gain adversaries over to him ; whereas a con- abode in the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise disposed of. Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their trial, in ordei to their condemnation. When the time was come, they were brought before their enemies, and arraigned. The judge’s name was Lord Hate-good; their indictment was one and the same in substance, though somewhat varying in form ; the contents whereof was this : “That they were enemies to, and disturbers of their trade ; that they had made commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own most dangerous opinions, in con- tempt of the law of their prince.” J 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. x\nd, said he, as for disturbance I make none, being myself a man of peace ; the par- ties that were won to'us, were won by behold- ing our truth and innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better. And as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our Lord, I defy him and all his angels. Then proclamation was made, that they that had aught to say for their lord the king, against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear and give in their evidence. So there came in three witnesses, to wit, Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank : they were then asked, if they knew the prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the king against him? Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect : My lord, I have known this man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this hon- ourable bench, that he is— Judge. Hold, give him his oath. So they sware him. Then he said, My lord, this man, notwithstanding his plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country ; he neither regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom ; but doeth all that he can to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the general calls “principles trary spirit is a dishonour to Christ, a reproach to his cause, never did good to others, nor left the soul in the solid possession of the peace of God. J You see your calling, brethren. Has no such in- dictment been ever brought against you? Then it is to be feared, what Pharaoh said to the Israelites may be said to you : Ye are idle, ye are idle, in the ways of the Lord; ye want love to his name, fervency for his truth, and zeal for his glory, and the good of pre- cious souls. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 135 of fnitli and holiness.” And, in particular, I heard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our town of Vanity were diametrically opposite, ancl could not be recon- ciled. By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our laudable doings, but us in the doing of them. Then said the judge 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, when the other gentlemen have given in their evidence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that will despatch him, I will en- large my testimony against him. So he was bid to stand by.* Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner: they also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against him? Then they sware him ; so he began : My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I desire to have further know- ledge of him ; however, this I know, that he is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that the other day I. had with him in this town ; for then, talking with him, I heard him say that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means please God. Which saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows, what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in vain, are yet in our sins, and finally will be damned; and this is that which I have to say.f Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in behalf of their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar. 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 Beelze- bub, and hath spoken contemptibly of his hon- ourable friends, whose names are the Lord Old- * Tho spirit of wisdom asks, “ Who is able to stand before envy ?" Prov. xxvii. 4. Envy is the very tem- per of the devil. It is natural to us all. But why should the children of this world envy God’s children ? for they are strangers to the spiritual good things they enjoy. Thoy neither seek them, nor care for them, but laugh and deride them. Herein the very spirit of Sa- tan is manifest. He envied Christ, being the Son of God: he stirred up Judas to betray him, and the Jews for envy delivered him, (Matt, xxxvii. IS;) 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 ene- my to Christ’s truths and to his followers. This fel- low's evidence is true ; for as the lawyers said of man, the Lord Carnal -delight, the Lord Luxu- rious, the Lord Desire-of-vain-glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having-greedy, with all the rest of our nobility : and he hath said, more- over, that if all men were of his mind, if pos- sible there is not one of these noblemen should have any longer a being in this town. Besides, lie hath not been afraid to rail on you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an ungodly villain, with many other such- like vilifying terms, with which he hath be- spattered most of the gentry of our town.J When this Pickthank had told his ta'e, the judge directed his speech to the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou renegade, heretic and traitor, hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee ? Faithful. May I speak a few words in’ my own defence? Juchje. Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain immediately upon tho place ; yet, that all men may sec our gentleness towards thee, let us hear what thou, vile rene- gade, hast to say. Faithful. I say then, in answer to what Mr. Envy hath spoken, I never said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were flat against the word of God, are diamet- rically opposite to Christianity. If I have said amiss in this, convince me in my error, and I am ready here before you to make my recanta- tion. As to the second, to wit, Mr. Superstition, and his charge against me, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a divine faith ; but there can be no divine faith without a divine revelation of the will of God. Therefore, whatever is thrust into the worship of God, that is not agreeable to divine revela- tion, cannot be done but by an human faith, which faith will not be profitable to eternal life. As to what Mr. Pickthank hath said, (say I Christ’s doctrine, “ Master, thus saying thou reproach- est us also.” Luke xi. 45. So false worshippers, who rest in forms, and rites, and shadows, are stung to the quick at those who worship God in the spirit, rejoice in Christ Jesus, and have no confidence in the flesh. Such a conduct pours the utmost contempt upon all the doc- trines and superstitions of carnal men. J As soon as the poor sinner says, “ 0 Lord our God, other lords besides thee have had the dominion over me, but by thee alone will I make mention of thy name,” (Isa. xxvi. 13,) your officious Pickthanks aro always ready to bear testimony against him : and a blessed testimony this is. it is well worth living to gain, and dying in the cause of. If we are real disciples of Christ the world will hate us for his sake. John vii. 7. 136 JJ UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. avoiding terms, as that I am said to rail, and the like,) that the prince of this town, with all the rabblement, his attendants, by this gentle- man 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,) Gen- tlemen 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 hifii; also you have heard his reply and confession ; it lieth now in your breasts to hang him, or save his life ; but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law. There was an act made in the days of Pha- raoh 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. Ex. i. 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. I)an. iii. 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. Dan. vi. 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 suspicion, to prevent mischief, no crime yet being apparent; but here is a crime ap- parent. For the second and third: you see he disputeth against our religion; and for the treason he hath confessed he deserveth to die the death. Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr. Blindman, Mr. No-good, Mr. Malice, Mr. Love-lust, Mr. Live-loose, Mr. Heady, Mr. High-mind, Mr. Enmity, Mr. Liar, Mr. Cruelty, Mr. Hate-light, and Mr. Implacable ; who every one gave in his private verdict against him among themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty before the judge. And first among themselves — Mr. * This is the Christian’s plea and his glory : While he knows the tender mercies of the wicked are cruel, (Prov. xii. 10,) yet he also knows that the merciful kindness of the Lord is great, and the truth of the Lord endurcth for ever. Ps. cxvii. 2. t A blessed verdict 1 well worthy of every pilgrim Blindman, the foreman, 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. Malice, for I hate the very looks of him. Then said Mr. Love-lust, I could never endure him. Nor I, said Mr. Live-loose, for he would always be condemning my way. Hang him, bang him, said Mr. Heady. A sorry scrub, said Mr. High-mind. My heart riseth against him, said Mr. Enmity. He is a rogue, said Mr. Liar. Hanging is too good for him, said Mr. Cruelty. Let us despatch him out of the way, said Mr. Hate-liglit. Then said Mr. Implacable, might I have all the w >rld given me, I could not be reconciled to him : therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty of death.f And so they did ; therefore he was presently condemned to be had from the place where he was, to' the place from whence he came, and there to be put to the most cruel death that could be invented. They therefore brought him out, to do with him according to their law ; and first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced his flesh with knives; after they had stoned him with stones, they pricked him with their swords ; and last of all they burned him to ashes at the stake. Thus came Faithful to his end. Now I saw that there stood behind the mul- titude a chariot and a couple of horses waiting for Faithful, who, as soon as his adversaries had despatched him, was taken up into it, and straightway w r as carried up through the clouds, with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the celestial gate. But as for Christian, he had yme respite, and was remanded back to prison ; so he there remained for a space ; but He that overrules all things, having the power of their rage in his own hand, so brought it about that Christian for that time escaped them, and went his way. And as he went he sung, say- ing : “Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest Unto thy Lord, of whom thou shaft be blest; When faithless ones, with all their vain delights, Are crying out under their hellish plights: Sing, Faithful, sing, and let thy name survive; For though they kill’d thee, thou art yet alive.” to obtain. Reader, do you profess to be one ? See then that you study to act so as to gain such a verdict from such a jury! and then be sure that Christ will pronounce, “Well done, thou good and faithful ser- vant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.” Matt, xxv. 21. TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 137 CHAPTER XIV. Christian meets with another excellent companion in ITopefnI — Dialogues between them, By- ends, Money-love, and Danas. Now I saw in my dream that Christian went not forth alone ; for there was one whose name was Hopeful, (being so made by the beholding of Christian and Faithful, in their words and behaviour in their sufferings at the fair,) who joined himself unto him ; and, entering into a brotherly covenant, told him that he would be his companion. Thus one died to bear testi- mony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes to be a companion with Christian in his pilgrimage.* This Hopeful also told Christian that there were many more of the men in the fair, that would take their time and follow after. So I saw that quickly after they were got out of the fair, they overtook one that was going before them, whose name was By-ends: so they said to him, What countryman, sir? and how far go you this way ? He told them that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going to the Celestial City, but told them not his name. From Fair-speech ! said Christian : is there any good that lives there? Prov. xxvi. 23. Yes, said By-ends, I hope. Pray, sir, what may I call you ? said Chris- tian. By-ends. I am a stranger to you, and you to me: if you be going this way, I shall be glad of your company ; if not, I must be content. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of, and as I remember, they say it is a wealthy place. By-ends. Yes, I will assure you that it is ; and I have very many rich kindred there. Christian. Pray who are your kindred there, if I may be so bold? By-ends. Almost the whole town ; and in particular, my Lord Turn-about, my Lord Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech, from whose ancestors that town first took its name ; also Mr. Smooth-man, Mr. Facing-both-ways, Mr. s I havo often reoorded it with thankfulness, (observes the Rev. Mr. Mason,) that though in the dreary day of my pilgrimage, the Lord hath taken away a dear and faithful Christian friend, yet he has always raised up another. A very great blessing this, for which Christians can nevor be thankful enough. t Is not this too much the case with professors of Any-thing: and the parson of our parish, Mr. Two-tongues, was my mother’s own brother by father’s side : and, to tell you the truth, I am become a gentleman of good quality, yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman, looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the same occupation. Christian. Are you a married man? By-ends. Yes, and my wife is a very virtu- ous woman, the daughter of a virtuous woman; she was my Lady Feigning’s daughter, there- fore sue came of a very honourable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding, that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant. It is true we somewhat differ in religion from those of the stricter sort, yet but in two small points: First, we never strive against wind and tide: secondly, we arc al- ways most zealous when Religion goes in his silver slippers; we love much to walk with him in the street, if the sun shines, and the people applaud him.f Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, It runs in my mind, that this is one By-ends, of Fair-speech; and if it be, we have as very a knave in our com- pany as dwelleth iu these parts. Then said Hopeful, Ask him ; mctliinks he should not be ashamed of his name. So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk as if you knew something more than all the world doth ; and, if I take not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you : is not your name Mr. By-ends, of Fair-speech ? By-ends. That is not my name ; but indeed it is a nick-name that is given me, by' some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to bear it as a reproach, as other good men have 'borne theirs before me. Christian. But did you never give an occa- sion to men to call y T ou by this name ? By-ends. Never, never ! the worst that ever I this day? The Spirit of truth says, “All who live godly in Christ Jesus, shall suffer persecution.” 2 Tim. iii. 2. But how many act as if they had found the art of making the Spirit of truth a 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 him. A most fatal, soul-deceiv- ing error ! 138 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. did to give them an occasion to give me this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to get thereby. But if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a blessing ; hut let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach.* Christian. I thought indeed that you were the man I heard of; and to tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly than you are willing we should think it doth. By-ends. Well, if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it: you will find me a fair com- pany-keeper, if you will still admit me your associate. / Christian. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide; the which, I per- ceive, is against your opinion : you must also own Religion in his rags, as well as when in his silver slippers ; and stand by him too when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. By-ends. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith ; leave me to my liberty, and let me go with you. Christian. Hot a step further, unless you will do in what I propound as we. Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, since they are harmless and profitable. If I may not go with you, I must do as I- did before you overtook me : even go by myself, until some overtake me that will be glad of my company.! 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 be- hold, 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 school-fellows, and were taught by one Mr. Gripe-man, a schoolmaster in Love- * How artful, bow delusive, are the reasonings of such men ! Oh beware of this spirit. In opposition to this, watch and pray earnestly, that ye. may not be double-minded, but sincere uutil the day of Christ. f Mind how warily these pilgrims acted towards this deceitful professor. They did not too rashly take up an ill opinion against him; but wheu they had full proof of what he was, they did not hesitate one moment, but dealt faithfully with him, and eonscien- gain, which is a market-town in the county of Coveting, in the north. This schoolmaster taught them the art of getting, either by vio- lence, cozenage, flattery, lying, or by putting on a guise of religion ; and these four gentle- men had attained much of the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such a school themselves. Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr. Money-love said to Mr. By- ends, Who are they upon the road before us ? for Christian and Hopeful were yet within view. By-ends. They are a couple of far country- men, that after their mode are going on pil- grimage. Money-love. Alas! why did they not stay, that we might have had their good company? for they, and w r e, and you, sir, I hope, are going on .pilgrimage. By-ends. We are so indeed ; but the men be- fore us are so rigid, and love so much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opin- ion of others, that let a man be never so godly, yet if he jumps not with them in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company. Save-all. That’s bad: but we read of some that are righteous overmuch, and such men’s rigidness prevails with them to judge and con- demn all but themselves; but I pray, what and how many were the things wherein you differed? By-ends. Why they, after their headstrong manner, conclude, that it is their duty to rush on their journey all weathers; and I am for waiting for wind and tide. They are for haz- arding all for God at a clap, and I am for taking all advantages to secure my life and estate. They are for holding their notions, though all other men be against them ; but I am for re- ligion in what, and so far, as the times and my safety will bear it. They are for Religion when in rags and contempt ; but I am for him when he walks in his golden slippers in the sunshine, and with applause. ± Hold-the- world. Ay, and hold you there still, tiously withdrew from him. Love should always move slowly in receiving a report, but ever deal faith- fully when it is plain that men are not what they profess to be. { Notwithstanding Ey-ends could be reserved and upon his guard with faithful pilgrims, yet he can speak out boldly to those of his own spirit and cha- racter. Oh the treachery of the desperate wicked heart! Who can know it? No one, but the heart- searching God. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. pood Mr. By-onds: for my part, I can count him but a fool, that having the liberty to keep what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it. Lot us he wise as serpents ; it is best to make hay while the sun shines; you sec how the bee lieth still in winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit with pleasure. God sends sometimes rain and sometimes sunshine: if they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be content to take fair weather along with us. For my part, I like that religion best, that will stand with the security of God’s good blessings unto us : for who can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has be- stowed upon us the good things of this life, hut 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-all. I think that we are all agreed in this matter, and therefore there needs no more words about it. Money-love. No, there needs no more words about this matter indeed: for he that believes neither Scripture nor reason, (and you see we have both on our side,) neither knows h's own liberty, nor seeks his own safety. By-ends. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage, and for our better di- version from things that are bad, give me leave to propound unto you this question : Suppose a man, a minister or a tradesman, &c., should have an advantage lie before him to get the good blessings of this life, yet so as that he can by no means come by them, except in appearance at least, he becomes extraordi- nary zealous in some points of religion that he meddled not with before — may he not use this means to attain his end, and yet be a right hon- est man ? Money-love. I see the bottom of your ques- tion ; and, with these gentlemen’s good leave, I will 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, and has in his eye a greater, more fat and plump by far : he has also an opportunity * Here is worldly wisdom, infernal logic, and the sophistry of Satan. Wo hear this language daily from money-loving professors, who are destitute of the power of faith, and tho reasoning of godliness. But in opposition to all this, the Holy Ghost testifies, “ The love of money is tho root of all evil,” (1 Tim. vi. 10,) 1.39 of getting it, yet so as by being more studious, by preaching more frequently and zealously and, because the temper of the people requires it, by altering some of his principles: for my part, I see no reason but a man may do this, provided he has a call, aye, and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man. Fof why? 1. His desire of a greater benefice is lawful; this cannot be contradicted, since it is set be- fore him by Providence ; so then he may get it if he can, making no question for con- science’ 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 tem- per of his people by deserting, to serve them, some of his principles, this argueth that he is of a self-denying temper, of a sweet and win- ning deportment; and so more fit for the min- isterial 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 there- by, be counted as one that pursues his call and the opportunity put into his hand to do good. And now to the second part of the question, which concerns the tradesman you mentioned ; suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the world ; but by becoming religious he may mend his market, perhaps get a rich wife, or more and far better customers to his shop. For my part, I see no reason but this may be lawfully done. For why? 1. To become religious is a virtue, by what means soever a man becomes so. 2. Nor is it unlawful to get a rich wife, or more custom to my shop. 3. Besides, the man that gets these by be- coming religious, gets that which is good, of them that are good, by becoming good him- self ; so then here is a good wife, and good cus- tomers, and good gain, and all these by be- coming religious, which is good : therefore, to become religious to get all these is a good and profitable design.* “ and a covetous man is an idolater.” Col. iii. 5. Hear this and 'tremble, ye avaricious professors. Re- member, ye followers of the Lamb, ye are called to let your conversation be without covetousness. Heb. xiii. 5. Your Lord testifies, ye cannot serve God and mam- mon. Luke xvi. 13. 140 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. This answer, thus made by this Mr. Money- love to Mr. By-ends’ question, was highly ap- plauded by them all ; wherefore they concluded upon the whole that it was most wholesome and advantageous. And because, as they thought, no man was able to contradict it, and because Christian and Hopeful were yet with- in call, they jointly agreed to assault them with this question as soon as they overtook them : and the rather, because they had op- posed 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 ques- tion 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 salutation Mr. Hold-the- World pro- pounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and bid them to answer it if they could. Then said Christian, Even a babe in re- ligion may answer ten thousand such ques- tions. 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 stalking-horse, to get and enjoy the world? Nor do we find any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and witches, that are of this opinion. Heathens: for when Harnor and Shechem had a mind to the daughter and cattle of Jacob, and saw that there were no ways for them to come at them, hut by becoming cir- cumcised, they say to their companions, “ If every male of us be circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle, and their substance, and every beast of theirs, be ours?” Their daughters and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their relig- ion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them. Bead the whole story, Genesis xxiv. 22, 24. The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion ; long prayers were their pretence ; but to get widows’ ’houses was their intent, and greater damnation was from God their judgment. Luke xx. 46, 47. Judas the devil was also of this religion: * Here see the blessedness of being mighty in the Scripture, and the need of that exhortation, “Let the 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 he was religious for the bag, that he might be possessed of what was therein ; but he was lost, a cast-away, and the very son of perdition. Simon the witch was of this religion too; for he would have had the Ploly Ghost, that he might have got money therewith ; and his sentence from Peter’s mouth was accordingly. Acts viii. 18, 23. Neither will it go out of my mind, but that that man that takes up religion for the world, will throw away religion for the world ; for so surely as Judas designed the world in be- coming religious, so surely did he also sell religion and his Master for the same. To answer the question therefore affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to accept of, as authentic, such answer, is 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 an- swer; so there was a great silence among them. Mr. By-ends and his company also staggered, and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might outgo them. Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot stand before the sentence of men, what will they do with the sentence of God? And if they are mute when dealt with by vessels of clay, what will they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire ? * Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came 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, (gentlemanlike,) to call passengers to come and see; who said to Christian and his fellow, Ho! turn aside hither, afcid I will show you t thing. subtle devices of Satan, and the cunning craftiness of carnal professors, and divideth asunder the carna 1 reasonings of the flesh, and the spiritual wisdom which comcth from above. I THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. Ill Christian. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it? Demos. 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 before now, and how many have been slain there; and besides, that treasure is a snare to those that seek it ; for it hindercth them in their pilgrimage.* Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous? hath it not hindered many in their pilgrimage? 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. Hopeful. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he hath the same invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see. Christian. No doubt thereof, for his princi- ples 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, (2 Tim. iv. 10;) and why seekest thou to bring us into the like condemnation ? Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we should stand with boldness before him. Demas cried again, that he also was one of their fraternity, and that if they would tarry a little, he also himself would walk with them. Then said Christian, What is thy name? Is it not the same by the which I have called thee? Demas. Yes, my name is Demas; I am the son of Abraham. Christian. I know you ; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your father, and * See the value of a faithful friend. Put how few act so faithfully ! How few professors will hear it ! What ! hold a man back from getting money ! Oh how few are aware that covetousness is idolatry ! and attend to our Lord’s double caution, “Take heed and beware of covetousness.” Luke xii. 13. f Here you see the end of double-minded men, who vainly attempt to unite the love of money with the you have trod in their steps; it is but a devil- ish prank that thou usest: thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest no better reward. 2 Kings v. 20, 27 ; Matt. xxvi. 14, lb; xxvii. 3, 5. Assure thyself, that when we come to the King, we will tell him of this thy behaviour. Thus they went their way. By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight, and they at the first beck went over to Demas. Now, whether they fell into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom by the damps that commonly arise, of these things I am not certain ; but this I observed, that they never were seen again in the way.f Then sang Christian : “By-ends and silver Demas did agree; One calls, the other runs, that he may be A sharer in his lucre; so these do Take up in this world, and no further go." Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the pilgrims came to a place where stood an old monument, hard by the highway side, at the sight of which they were both con- cerned, 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 lie was learned) to see if he could pick out the meaning; so he came, and after a little laying of the letters together, he found the same to be this, “Remember Lot’s wife.” So he read it to his fellow; after which they both concluded, that this was the pillar of salt into which Lot’s wife was turned, for looking back with a covetous heart, when she was going from Sodom for safety. Gen. xix. 26. Which sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion of this discourse. Christian. Ah, my brother, this is a scason- a.ble sight : it came opportunely to us after the invitation which Demas gave us to come over love of Christ. Tbev go on with their art for a season, but the end makes it manifest what they were. Take David’s advice, “ Fret not thyself because of evil- doers.” Ps. xxxvii. 1. “ Be not thou afraid when one is made rich, and the glory of his house is increased.” Ps. xlix. 16. But go thou into the sanctuary of thy God, read his word, aud understand the end of these men. 142 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to view the hill Lucre ; and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast inclined to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made like this woman, a spectacle for those that shall come after to behold. Hopeful. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am not now as Lot’s wife ; for wherein was the difference be- tween her sin and mine? she only looked back, and I had a desire to go see: let grace be adored, and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be in mine heart.* * Christian. Let us take notice of what we see here for our help for time to come.: This woman escaped one judgment; for she fell not by the destruction of Sodom, yet she was destroyed by another, as we see she is turned into a pillar of salt. Hopeful. True, and she may be to us both caution and example ; caution, that we should shun her sin ; or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as shall not be prevented by such caution ; so Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, with the two hundred and fifty men that per- ished in their sin, did also become a sign or example to beware. Num. xxvi. 9, 10. But above all, I muse at one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman, but for looking behind her after, (for we read not that she 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. Christian. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts are grown des- perate 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,” because they were sinners “be- fore 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. Gen. xiii. 10, 13. This therefore provoked him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the fire of the Lord out of heaven could make it. And it is most rationally to be con- cluded, 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 continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, must be partakers of the severest judgments. Hopeful. Doubtless thou hast said the truth ; but what a mercy is it, that neither thou, but especially I, am not made myself this ex- ample! This ministereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear before him, and always to “ remember Lot’s wife.” CHAPTER XV. Christian and Hopeful mistake their ivay, and fall into the hands of Giant Despair. I saw then, that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David the king called • * Suck is the effect of the grace of God in the heart of a pilgrim ; while on the one hand he sees many pro- pensities of his evil nature to every sin which has been committed by others, and is grieved, he also con- fesses that by no power of his own he is preserved, but ever gives all the glory to the God of all grace, by who^e power alone he is kept from falling. “Thou standest by faith, be not high-minded, but fear.” Rom. si. 20. f By this river, which is called "a pure river of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and the Lamb,” (Rev. xxii. 1,) we n.ay understand the clear and comfortable views with which they were favoured of God’s love and grace. This river of God, this water of life, was clear as “the river of God;” but John, “the river of the water of life.” f Ps. lxv. 9 ; Ezek. lxvii. 1 ; crystal : They could see in it God’s glory, shining in the face of Jesus Christ, a.nd view their own faces in it to their own inexpressible joy. This is the river, “the streams whereof make glad the city of God.” Ps. xlvi. 4. The streams which flow from this river of love, are justification by faith in Christ, sanctifi- cation, and all joy and peace in believing, from the Spirit of Christ. All this these pilgrims now enjoyed, and all this every fellow-citizen of the saints are called to enjoy, in their pilgrimage to Zion. This river of life proceedeth out of the throne of God and the Lamb. For God hath chosen those (who have fled for refuge) in Christ, and blessed us with all spiritual blessings in him; and they are all freely comtnuri- cated to us out of Christ’s fulness. Oh how happy. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 143 Rev. xxii. 1. Now their way lay just upon the bank of the river: here, therefore, Chris- tian ami his companion walked with great de- light: they drank also of the water of the river, which was pleasant, and enlivening to their weary spirits. Besides, on the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees, for all manner of fruit; and the leaves they ate to prevent surfeits, and other diseases that are in- cident to those that heat their blood by travels. On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year long. In this meadow they lay down and slept: for here they might lie down safely. Fs. xxiii.; Isa. xiv. 30. When they awoke, they gathered again of the fruits of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then lay down again to sleep. Thus they did several days and nights. Then they sang: “Behold ye how thoso crystal streams do glide, To comfort pilgrims by the highway side. The meadows green, besides the fragrant smell, Yield dainties for them: And he that can tell What pleasant fruit, yea, leaves, these trees do yield, Will soon sell all, that lie 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 dis- couraged because of the way. Num. xxi. 4. Wherefore still as they went on, they wished for a better way.* * Now a little before them, peaceful, and joyful are pilgrims, when the Spirit takes of the things of Christ, shows them to us, and blesses us with a constant sense of, and interest in, the love of God, and salvation of Jesus! * Pilgrims have their discouragements 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 the way was smoother: so they did here. Lo, their wishes wero answered; but mark the consequences. Lord, lead me in the way everlasting! t Beware of this By-path Meadow, it is on the left hand. Oh how many are walking securely', confi- dently, and comfortably in it, while every step they take endangers their destruction ! The transition into it is easy, for it lies close to the right way, only you must get over a stile; that is, you must quit Christ's there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and a stile to go over into it; and that meadow is called By-path Meadow, f Then said Christian to his fellow, If this meadow 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 the easiest going; come, good Hopeful, and let us go over. I Hopeful. But how if this path should lead us out of the way? That’s not likely, said the other. Look, doth it not go along by the way-side? So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him over the stile. When they were gone over, and were got into the path, they found it very easy for their feet; and withal, they looking before them, spied a man walking as they did, and his name was Vain-confidence. so they called after him, and asked him whither that way led? He said, to the celestial gate. — Look, said Christian, did I not tell you so? by this you may see we are right: so they fol- lowed, and he went before them. But, behold, the night came on, and it grew very dark ; so that they that went behind lost the sight of him that went before. He therefore that went before, (Vain-confi- dence by name,) not seeing the way before him, fell into a deep pit, (Isa. ix. 16,) which was on purpose there made by the prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and was dashed in pieces with his fall. || Now Christian and his fellow heard him fall : so they called to know the matter ; but there was none to answer, only they heard a groan- ing. Then said 1 lopeful, Where are we now? protection, trust in your own wisdom, and then you are in By-path Meadow directly. J Ah ! how easy are onr eyes deceived, our hearts mistaken, and our feet perverted from the right way ! Shepherd of Israel, thou knowest, to err is human, keep us from erring, guide us continually, and when wo do stray, Lord, reclaim us. || “There is a way that seems right unto a man, but the end thereof aro the ways of death.” Prov. xiv. 12. Vain confidence is this very way. Oh how easy do pro- fessors get into it ! yea, pilgrims are prone also to take up with it, owing to that legality, pride and self-right- eousness, which work in their fallen nature, till cleansed by the blood of Jesus. See the end of it and tremble; for it leads to darkness and ends in death. Lord, hum- ble our proud hearts, and empty us of self-righteous- ness, pride and vain-oonfideueo. 144 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Then was his fellow silent, as mistrusting that he had led him out of the way. And now it began to rain, and thunder, and lighten, in a most dreadful manner; and the waters rose amain.* Then Hopeful groaned in himself, saying, “ Oh that I had kept on my way l” Christian. Who could have thought this path should have led us out of the way ? Hopeful. I was afraid on’t at the very first, and therefore gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoken plainer, but that you are older than I. Christian. Good brother, be not offended ; I am sorry I have brought thee out of the way, and that I have put thee into such imminent danger : pray, my brother, forgive me ; I did not do it of an evil intent. f Hopeful. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee ; and believe too, that this shall be for good. Christian. I am glad I have with me a mer- ciful brother ; but we must not stand thus ; let us try to go back again. Hopeful. But, good brother, let me go before-. Christian. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger I may be first therein ; because by my means we are both gone out of the way. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first ; for your mind being troubled, may lead you out of the way again. Then, for their encourage- ment, they heard the voice of one saying, “ Let thine heart be towards the highway ; even the way that thou wentest turn again.” j Jer. xxxi. 21. But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of which, the way of going back was very dangerous. (Then I thought that it is easier going out of the way when we are in, than going in when we are out.) Yet they adventured to go back ; but it was so dark and the flood was so high, that in their going back they had like to have been drowned, nine or ten times. # Getting into By-path Meadow, and walking in vain-eonfidence, will surely bring on terrors, thunder- ings and lightnings from Mount Sinai. f Here see, that as Christians are made helpful, so also they are liable to prove 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. Oh the mighty power of that grace and truth which came by Jesus Christ! how does it cement souls in the fellowship of love 1 j This is Christ : he is the way, the only way, tho highway of justification and holiness. Neither could they with all the skill they had, get again to the stile that night. Where- fore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they sat down there, till the day-break ; but being weary, they fell asleep. Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair : || and it was in his grounds they were now sleeping. Wherefore he getting up in the morning early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hope- ful asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice, he bid them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his grounds? They told him they were pil- grims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the giant, You have this night trespassed on me, by trampling in, and lying on my ground, and therefore you must go along with me. So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they. They also had but little to say; for they knew themselves in a fault. The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his castle in a very dark dun- geon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of these two men. Here then they lay from Wednes- day 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 ac- quaintance. Ps. lxxxviii. 8. Now in this place Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised counsel that they were brought into this distress. $ Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence ; so when he was gone to bed, he told his wife what he had done ; to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon, for trespassing on his grounds. Then he asked her also what he had best do further to them. So she asked what they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound — and he told her. Then she counselled him that when he arose in the || Sooner or later Doubting Castle will be the prison, and Giant Despair tho keeper of all those who turn aside from Christ, to trust in any wise in. themselves. “ God is a jealous God;” ever jealous of his own glory, and of the honour of his beloved Son. g What ! so highly-favoured Christians in Doubting Castle ? Is it possible, after having travelled so far in the way of salvation, seen so many glorious things in that way, experienced so much of the grace and love of their Lord, and having so often proved his faithful- ness, yet after all this to get into Doubting Castle? Surely it is not the will of God but the effects of un- belief. THE PILGRIM'S I'liOG LESS. 1-15 morning, lie should boat thorn without mercy. So when he arose, ho 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, although they gave him never a word of distaste: then lie falls upon them, and beat them fearfully, in sucl? sort that they were not able to help themselves, or turn them upon the floor. This done, lie with- draws, 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 be- fore, 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 to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon them ; and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, (for he some- times in sunshiny weather fell into fits,) and lost for a time the use of his hand. Wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what to do. Then did the prisoners consult between themselves, whether it was best to take his counsel or no ; and thus they began to dis- course :* Brother, said Christian, what shall we do? The life that we now live is miserable ; for my part, I know not whether it is best to live thus, or die out of hand ; “ my soul choosetli strang- ling rather than life,” (Job. vii. 15,) and the grave is more easy for me than this dungeon ! Shall we be ruled by the giant ?f Hopeful. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far more welcome * See the working of Despair. Where is now their faith in, lovo to, and dependence upon their Lord ? Alas ! all seems as at the last gasp. But observe, under their prevailing distress and black despondency, even when despair had almost made an end of them, they had a lucid interval when Giant Despair is seized with a fit, so that God’s mercy is great : for, says Paul, “We are perplexed, but. not in despair,” 2 Cor. iv. 1. f Poor Christian ! what ! tempted to destroy thy- 10 to me, than thus forever to abide: hut yet let us consider; the Lord of the country to which we are going, hath said, “Thou slialt do no murder no, not to another man’s person ; 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 case in the grave, but hast thou forgotten the hell whither for certain the murderers go ? “ for no murderer hath eternal life,” etc. And let us consider again, that all the law is not in the hand of Giant Despair: others, so far as I can understand, have been taken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped out of his hands. Who knows but that God, who made the world, may cause that Giant Despair may die, or that at some time or other he may forget to lock us in ; or that he may in a short time have another of his fits before us, and may lose the use of his limbs? and if ever that should come to pass again, for my part I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to try my utmost to get from under his liand.J 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 owu murderers. With these words, Hopeful at present did moderate the mind of his brother; so they continued together in the dark that day in their sad and doleful condition. Well, towards evening, the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel: but when he came there, he found them alive ; and truly, alive was all ; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by reason of the wounds they re- ceived when he beat them, they could do little but breathe. But, I say, he found them alive; at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that, seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had never been born. self! Lord, what is man ! But mark the truth of that word, “ There hath no temptation taken you. but such as is common to man but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that we may be able to bear it. 1 Cor. x. 13. J Perceive how a fit of despair robs a Christian of his courage, reason, and graoe. But one single thought of the love, power, and grace of God in Christ, elevate the Christian’s mind with hope. 146 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a swoon ; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their dis- course about the giant’s counsel, and whether yet they had best take it or no. Now Chris- tian again seemed to be for doing it, but Hopeful made his second reply as followeth : My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast been heretofore? Apol- lyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou couldst hear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death ; what hardship, ter- ror, and amazement, hast thou already gone through, and art thou now nothing but fears ? Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art; also the giant' has wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water from my mouth, and with that I mourn without the light. But let us exercise a little more pa- tience : remember how thou playedst the man at Vanity Fair, and was neither afraid of the chain or cage, nor yet of bloody death ; where- fore, let us, at least, to avoid the shame that becomes not a Christian to be found in, bear up with patience as well as we can.* Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she asked him con- cerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel : to which he replied, They are sturdy rogues ; they choose rather to bear all hardship than to make away with themselves. Then said she, Take them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls of those thou hast already despatched, and make them believe, ere a week comes to an end, thou also wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done their fellows before them. * Here is the blessing of a hopeful companion. Here is excellent counsel. Let vain professors say what they may against experience, and looking back to past experiences : It is most certainly good and right so to do ; not to encourage present sloth and presump- tion, but to excite fresh confidence of hope in the Lord. We have David’s example, and Paul’s word to encourage us to this: says David, “The Lord who delivered me out of the paw of the lion, and out of the paw of the bear, be will deliver me out of the hand of the uncircumcised Philistine.” 1 Sam. xvii. 37. And says Paul, “ We have the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves, but in God who raiseth the dead.” There, mind the alone object of faith and hope, and see the reasoning on past experience of God’s mercy; for it is he “who delivers us from so great a death, and doth deliver; in whom we trust that he will yet deliver us.” 2 Cor. i. 10 . So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes them into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him : These, said he, were pilgrims, as you, once ; and they trespassed 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 dt r 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 prisoners ; and, withal, the old giant wondered that he could neither hv 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 re- lieve them, or that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they hope to escape. And sayest thou so, my dear? said the giant ; I will therefore search them in the morning. Well, on Saturday about midnight, they began to pray, and continued in prayer till almost break of day.f Now a little before it was day, good Chris- tian, as one half amazed, did break out in this passionate speech : What a fool, quoth he, am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty ! I have a key in my bosom called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any lock in Doubting Castle. Then, said Hopeful, that’s good news, good brother, pluck it out of thy bosom and try .J Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, f What! Pray in custody of Giant Despair, in the’ midst of Doubting Castle, and when their own folly brought them there too ! Yes, mind this, ye pilgrims ; ye are exhorted, “I will that men pray every whore, without doubting.” 1 Tim. ii. 8. We can be in no place but God can hear, nor in any circumstance, but God is able to deliver from. And be assured when the spirit of prayer comes, deliverance is nigh at hand. So it was here. j; Precious promise! The promises of God in Christ, are the life of faith, and the quickeners of prayer. Oh how oft do we neglect God’s great and precious promises in Christ Jesus, while doubts and despair keep us prisoners ! So it was with these pil- grims; they were kept under hard bondage of soul for four days. Hence see what it is to grieve the Spirit of God, and dread it. For he only is the Com- forter. And if we cause him to withdraw his influ- ence, who or what can comfort us? Though precious ■Wj T oa E B> E ILESTA1 LE TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 147 p.nd began to try at the dungeon door: whose bolt, as ho turned the key, gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with this key opened that door also. After, he went to the iron gate, for that must be opened too, but that lock went very hard ; yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to make their escape with speed, but that gate as it opened, made such a crack- ing that it waked Giant Despair, who hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go after them. Then they went on, and came to the king’s highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.* * Now when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with themselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that should come after from falling into the hand of Giant Despair. So they consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof this sentence, “Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the king of the Celestial Country, and seeks to destroy the holy pilgrims.” Many therefore that followed after, read what was written, and escaped the danger.f This done they sang as follows: “ Out of the way we went, and then we found What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground; And let them that come after have a care Lest they for trespassing, his pris’ners are, Whose castle’s Doubting, and whose name's Despair.” CHAPTER X YI . The Pilgrims entertained by the Shepherds on the Delectable Mountains. They went then till they came to the De- tectable Mountains ; which mountains belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken before : so they went up the moun- tains, to behold the gardens and orchards, the vineyards, and fountains of water ; where also they drank and washed themselves, and did promises are revealed in the word, yet we can get no comfort from them, but by the grace of the Spirit. * Mind, though the Spirit works deliverance and brings comfort., yet it is by means of the word of prom- ise ; for as we depart from and dishonour God by un- beliof, so we come back to, and honour him, bv be- lieving his word of grace to us through his beloved Son. In this way the Spirit brings deliverance. f Recording our own observations, and the experi- ence we have had of God’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 experience is to hum- ble the soul, and exalt the Saviour. As here these two pilgrims, by their own folly, got into Doubting Castle; so it was by faith in the promise that they escaped from it. This pillar was a memento to their shame, while it was a monument of God’s free favour in Christ to them. Reader ! have you through unbelief been brought into doubts? and has the Lord in his great mercy sent deliverance to your soul ? Keep then your faith in continual exercise, while you take up the following tines: freely eat of the vineyards. Now there were on the tops of these mountains, shepherds feeding their flocks, and they stood by the highway side. The pilgrims therefore went to them, and leaning upon their staves, (as is common with weary pilgrims when they stand to talk with any by the way,) they Son of God, if thy free grace Agaiu hath rais’d me 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, 0 my Saviour, stand In sore temptation’s hour, Save me with thine outstretch’d hand, And show forth all thy power; Oh be mindful of thy word; Thy all-sufficient grace bestow ; Keep me, keep me, gracious Lord, And never let mo go. Give me, Lord, a holy fear, And fix it in my heart ; That I may when doubts appear With timely care depart ; Sin be more than hell abhorr’d. Till thou destroy the tyrant foe: Keep me, keep me, gracious Lord, And never let me go. 148 SUNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. asked, “Whose Delectable Mountains are these? and whose are the sheep that feed upon them ?” * Shepherds. The mountains are Emmanuel’s Land, and they are within sight of his city ; and the sheep also are his, and he laid his life down for them. Christian. Is this the way to the Celestial City? Shepherds. You are just in the way. Christian. How far is it thither? Shepherds. Too far for any but those that shall get thither indeed. f Christian. Is the way safe or dangerous? Shepherds. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe ; “but transgressors shall fall therein.” Hos. xiv. 9. Christian. Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the way? Shepherds. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge “ not to be forgetful to entertain strangers,” (Heb. xiii. 1, 2;) there- fore the good of the place is before you. I also saw in my dream, that when the shep- herds perceived that they were wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, (to which they made answer, as in other places,) as, Whence came you? and, How got you into the way? and, By what means have you so persevered therein? for but few of them that begin to come hither do show their faces on this moun- tain. But when the shepherds heard their an- swers, 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 Sin- cere, took them by the hand, and had them to *' See the ups and downs, and sunshine and clouds, the prosperity and adversity, which Christians go through in their way to the promised land. Lately, these two pilgrims were bewailing their state in Doubting Ca3tle, under Giant Despair ; now they are come to Delectable Mountains, where all is clear, per- fect, and joyful hope'. So tha.t God’s word is now comfortably fulfilled upon them. See Isa.-xlix. 9, 10, 11. “ I will make all my mountains a way, and my highways shall be exalted,” @ F B E U L A DC Tin: PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 1G7 dressed themselves to go up to the city. But, ns I said, the reflection of the situ upon the city, for the city was pure gold, (Rev. xxi. 18 ; 2 Cor. iii. 18,) was so extremely glorious, that they could not as yet with open face behold it, but through an instrument made for that pur- pose. So I saw that as they went on there met them two men in raiment that shone like gold, also their faces shone ns the light. These men asked the pilgrims whence they came? and they told them. They also asked them where they had lodged, what difficulties .and dangers, what comforts and pleasures, they had met with in the way? and they told them. Then said the men that met them, “ You have but two difficulties more to meet with and then you are in the city.” * Christian then and his companion asked the men to go along with them : so they told them they would : But, said they, you must obtain it by your own faith. So I saw in my dream that they went on together till they came in sight of the gate. Now I further saw, that betwixt them and the gate was a river ; but there was no bridge to go over : the river was very deep. At the sight therefore of this river, the pilgrims were much stunned ; but the men that went with them, said, “ You must go through, or you can- not come at the gate.” f The pilgrims then began to inquire, if there was no other way to the gate? to which they answered, “ Yes ; but there hath not any, save two, to wit, Enoch and Elijah, been permitted to tread that path, since the foundation of the world, nor shall until the last trumpet shall sound.” The pilgrims then (especially Chris- tian) began to despond in their minds, and looked this way and that, but no way could be * What are tbeso two difficulties ? are they not death without, and unbelief within ? It is through the lat- ter that the former is at all distressing to us. Oh for a strong world-oonquering, sin-subduing, death-over- coming faith, iu life and death ! Jesus, Master, speak the word, unbelief shall flee, our faith shall not fail, and our hope shall bo steady. f Well, now the pilgrims must meet with, and en- counter their la! t enemy, death. When he stares them in the face, their fears arise. Through the river they must go. What have they to look at ? what they are in themselves, or what they have done and been ? No; only the same Jesus who conquered death for us, and can and will overcomo the fear of death in us. J Faith build* a bridge across the gulf of death; Death's terror is the mountain faith removes, ’Tis faith c isarms destruction : and absolves From every clamorous charge the guiltless tomb. found by them, by which they might escape the river. Then they asked the men, “ If the waters were all of a depth ?” they said, “ No ;” yet they could not help them in that case ; “For (said they) you shall find it deeper or shallower, as you believe in the King of the place.” I They then addressed themselves to the water, and entering, Christian began to sink, and cry- ing out to bis good friend Hopeful, he said, “ I sink in deep waters; billows go over my head, all his waves go over me. Selah.” Then said the other, “ Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bottom, and it is good.” Then said Christian, “ Ah ! my friend, the sorrow of death hath compassed me about, I shall not see the land that flows with milk and honey.” And with that a great darkness and horror fell upon Christian, so that he could not see before him. Also he in a great measure lost his senses, so that he could neither remember nor orderly talk of any of those sweet refreshments that he had met with in the way of his pilgrimage. But all the words that he 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 there- fore here had much ado to keep his brother’s head above water ; yea, sometimes he would be quite gone down, and then, ere a while, would rise up again half dead. Hopeful did also en- deavour to comfort him, saying, “ Brother, I For faith views, trusts in, and relies upon, the word of Christ, for salvation in the victory of Christ over sin, death and hell. Therefore, in every thing we shall always prove the truth of our Lord’s words, “Accord- ing to your faith bo it unto you.” Matt. ix. 29. Oh what support in death, to have Jesus our triumphant conqueror to look unto, who has disarmed death of his sting, and swallowed up death in his victory ! || What ! after all the past blessed experience that Christian had enjoyed of his Lord's peace, love, joy, and presence with him, his holy transports and heav- enly consolations, is all come to this at last? You know “ the last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.” 1 Cor. xv. 26. Satan is sometimes suffered to be very busy with God’s people in their last moments, but he too, like death, is a conquered enemy by our Jesus : therefore amidst all his attacks, they are safe. For he is faithful to them, and almighty to save them. 1G8 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. see the gate, and men standing by to receive us but Christian would answer, “ It is you, it is you they wait for ; you have been Hope- ful ever since I knew you.” “And so have you,” said he to Christian. “ Ah, brother,” said he, “ surely if I was right he would now 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 have quite for- got 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 othei 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 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 good cheer, Jesus maketh thee whole.” * And with that Christian brake out with a loud voice, “ Oh, I see him again ! and he tells me, ‘ When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee ; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow thee.’ ” Isa. xliii. 2. Then they both took courage, and the enemy was after that as still as a stone, until they were gone over. Christian therefore presently found ground to stand upon, and so it followed that the rest of the river was but shallow; but thus they got over. Now upon the bank of th e river, on the other side, they saw the two shining men again, who there waited for them. Wherefore being come out of the river, they saluted them, saying, “We are ministering spirits, sent forth to minister 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 foun- * 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 tempta- tions and trials speak loudly, and fully confirm to us that truth of our Lord, “Without me ye can do noth- ing.” John xv. 5. f Ah, children, none can conceive or describe what dation upon which tne city was framed was higher than the clouds : they therefore went up through the region of the air, sweetly talk- ing as they went, being comforted, because they safely got over the river, and had such glorious companions to attend them.f The talk that they had with the shining ones was about the glory of the place; who told them, that the beauty and glory of it was inexpressible- There, said they, is “Mount Zion, the heavenly Jerusalem, the innumer- able company of angels, and the spirits of just men made perfect.” Heb. xii. 22, 24. You, are going now, said they, to the Paradise of God, wherein you shall see the tree of life, and eat of the never-fading fruits thereof: and when you come there, you shall have white robes given you, and your walk and talk shall be every day with the King, even all the days of eternity. Rev. ii. 7 ; iii. 4 ; xxii. 5. There you shall not see again such things as you saw when you were in the lower region upon the earth, to wit, sorrow, sickness, affliction, and death ; “for the former things are passed away.” Isa. lxv. 16. 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 receive the comforts Of all your toil, and have joy for all your sorrow; you must reap what you have sown, even the fruit of all your prayers, and tears, and sufi brings for the King by the way. Gal. vi. 7, 8. In that place you must wear crowns of gold, and enjoy the perpetual sight and vision of the Holy One ; for “there you shall see him as he is.” 1 John iii. 2. There also you shall serve Him contin- ually with praise, with shouting! and thanks- giving, whom you desired to serve in the world, though with much difficulty, because of the infirmity of your flesh. There your eyes shall be delighted with seeing, and vour ears with hearing, the qdeasant voice of the Mighty One. There you shall enjoy your friends again that are gone thither before you ; it is to live in a state free from the body of sin and death. Some in such happy, highly -favoured mo- ments, have had a glimpse, a foretaste of this, and could realize it by faith. Oh for mote and more of this, till we possess and enjoy it in all :'ts fulness! If Jesus be so sweet by faith below, who can tell what he is in full fruition above? This we must die to know. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 1GD and there you shall with joy receive, even everyone that followetli into the holy place after you. There also you shall be clothed with glory and majesty, and put into an equip- age lit to ride out with the King of Glory. When he shall come with sound of trumpet in the clouds, as upon the wings of the wind, you shall come with him : and when he shall sit upon the throne of judgment, you shall sit by him ; yea, and when he shall pass sentence upon all the workers of iniquity, let them be angels or men, you also shall have a voice in that judgment, because they were his and your enemies. Also when he shall again return to the city, you shall go too with sound of trumpet, and be ever with him. 1 Thess. iv. 13, 17 ; Jude 14, 15; Dan. vii. 9, 10; 1 Cor. vi. 2, 3. Now, while they were thus drawing towards the gate, behold, a company of the heavenly host came out to meet them ; to whom it was said by the other two shining ones, “ These are the men that have loved our Lord when they were in the world, and that have left all for his holy name, and he hath sent us to fetch them, and we have brought them thus far on their designed journey, that they may go in and look their Redeemer in the face with joy.” Then the heavenly host gave a great shout, saying, “ Blessed are they that are called to the marriage-supper of the Lamb.” Rev. xix. 9. There came out also at this time to meet them several of the King’s trumpeters, clothed in white and shining raiment, who, with melodi- ous noises, and loud, made even the heavens to echo with their sound. These trumpeters saluted Christian and his fellow with ten thou- sand welcomes from the world ; and this they did with shouting, and sound of trumpet. This done, they compassed them round on every side; some went before, some behind, and some on the right hand, some on the left, (as it were to guard them through the upper regions,) continually sounding as they went, * Though Mr. Bunvan has been very happy in this spirited description, (observes the Rev. Mr. Mason,) yet wore ho alive, I am sure he would not be offended, though I were to say, it is short and faint, infinitely so, of the reality: and were he permitted to come in person, and give another description, he could only say, what the prophet and apostle tell us, “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them who love him.” Isa. lxiv. 4 : 1 Cor. ii. 9. Oh for the inorease of faith, to behold more clear the heavenly visiou ; and for love to Jesus, the God of our salvation, that we may have more of heaven in our souls, even with melodious noise, in notes on high ; so that the very sight was to them that could behold it, as if heaven itself was come down to meet them. Thus therefore they walked on together ; and, as they walked, ever and anon these trumpeters, even with joyful sound, would, by mixing their music with looks and gestures, still signify to Christian and his brother how welcome they were into their company, and with what gladness they came to meet them. Aud now were these two men, as it were, in heaven before they came at it, being swallowed up with the sight of angels, and with hearing their melodious notes. Here also they had the city itself in view; and they thought they heard all the bells therein to ring, to welcome them thereto. But, above all, the warm and joyful thoughts that they had about their own dwelling there with such company, and that for ever and ever. Oh ! by what tongue or pen can their glorious joy be expressed ! * Thus they came up to the gate. Now, when they were come up to the gate there was written over it, in letters of gold, “ Blessed are they that do his commandments, that they may have right f to the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates into the city.” Rev. xxii. 14. Then I saw in my dream, that the shining men bid them call at the gate ; the which when they did, some from above looked over the gate, to wit, Enoch, Moses, and Elias, &c., to whom it was said, “ These pilgrims are come from the city of Destruction, for the love that they bear to the King of this place ;” and then the pil- grims gave in unto them each man his certifi- cate, which they had received in the beginning: those therefore were carried in unto the King, who, when he had read them, said, “Where are the men?” To whom it was answered, “They are standing without the gate.” The King then commanded to open the gate, “that the righteous nation, (said he,) that keepeih truth may enter in.”t Isa. xxvii. 2. while we are pilgrims here on the earth. For none but those who love him on earth, can enjoy him in heaven. j- Sight here signifies power or privilege, as in John i. 12. “ To as many as receive Christ, to them gave he power, right, or privilege, to become the sons of God, even to them who believe in his name.” J The righteous nation, who are they ? Oh, say the self-righteous pharisees of the day, they arc those who by their good works aud righteous actions have made themselves to differ from others, and are thus become righteous before God. To whom shall the Lord coin- I mand the gate of glory to be opened but to these good 170 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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, ‘Enter ye into the joy of your Lord.” I also heard the men themselves, that they sang with a lond voice, saying, “ Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever.” Rev. v. 13, 14. Now, just as the gates were opened to let in the men, I looked in after them, and behold, the city shone like the sun; the streets also were paved with gold, and in them walked many men with crowns on their heads, palms in their hands, and golden harps to sing praises withal. There were also of them that had wings, and they answered one another without intermis- sion, saying, “ Holy, holy, holy is the Lord.” And after that they shut up the gates : which when I had seen, I wished myself among them. Now, while I was gazing upon all these things, I turned my head to look hack, and saw Ignorance come up to the river side : but he soon got over, and that without half that difficulty which the two other men met with. righteous people ? But Peter tells us, “the righteous nation is a chosen generation” from among the world, and of a different generation to them. They see no righteousness in themselves, and therefore are little, low, and mean in their own eyes; being begotten by the word of truth, and born again of the Spirit, they receive and love the truth as it is in Jesus. By this truth they regulate 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, they can say with Paul : “ I have kept the faith, and henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge will give to me and to all who love his appearing.” * Vain hope ever dwells in the bosom of fools, and is ever ready to assist Ignorance. He wanted him at the last, and he found him. He had been his com- panion through life, and will not forsake him in the hour of death. You see Ignorance had no bands In his death; no fears, doubts, and sorrows, no terror from the enemy, but all appeared serene and happy. Vain-hope was his ferry-man, and he, as the good folks say, died like a lamb; ah, but did such lambs see what was to follow, when Vain-hope had wafted them over the river, they would roar like lions. j- Ilcnce see, that ignorant, vain-confident pro- 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 other I saw, did ascend the hill, to come up to the gate; only he came alone, neither did any man meet him with the least encouragement. When he was come up to the gate, he looked up to the writing that was above, and then began to knock, supposing that entrance should have been quickly administered to him : but he was asked by the men that looked over the top of the gate, “Whence come you? and what would you have?” He answered, “I have eat and drank in the presence of the King, and he has taught in our streets.” Then they asked him for his certificate, that they might go in and 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.f So they told the King, but he would not come down to see him, but commanded the two shining ones that conducted Christian and Hopeful to the city, to go out and take Ignorance, and bind him hand and foot, and have him away. Then they took him up, and carried him through the air to the door that I saw in the side of the hill, and put him in there. Then I saw that there was a way to hell, even from the gates of heaven, as well as from the city of Destruction.} So I woke, and behold, it was a dream. fessors may keep up a profession, even unto the end; yea, and maintain a self-righteous hope to the very last, without any 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 certificate, find themselves destitute of one. They set out in nature, and have nothing more about them than what their natural notions furnish them with. Spiritual revelations of Christ to the heart, through faith in his word, they despised : and there- fore, 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, and commands, the choice, the delight, and the glory of their hearts. Oh without this the profession of being a pilgrim will end in awful delusion ! } This is a most awful conclusion. Consider it deeply. Weigh it attentively, so as to get good sat- isfaction from the word, to these important questions: Am I in Christ the way, the only way to the kingdom, or not? Do I see that all other ways, whether of sin or self-righteousness, lead to hell ? Does Christ dwell in my heart by faith? Am I a new creature in himt THE riLGRIM’S PROGRESS. 171 THE CONCLUSION. Now, Reader, I have told my dream to thee, See if thou canst interpret it to me, Or to thyself, or neighbour ; but take heed Of misinterpreting ; for that, instead Of doing good, will but thyself abuse ; By misinterpreting evil ensues. Take heed also that thou be not extreme In playing with the outside of my dream : Nor let my figure or similitude Put thee into a laughter, or a feud ; Leave this for boys and fools ; but as for thee, Po I renounce my own righteousness, as well as abhor my sins? Po I look to Christ alone for mercy, and depend only on him for holiness ? Is he the only hope of my soul, and the only confidence of my heart? And do I desire to be found in him, knowing by tho word, and feoling by the teaching of his Spirit, that I am totally lost in myself? Thus is Christ formed in ino,,tho only hope of glory? Po I study to pleaso Do thou the substance of my matter see, Put by the curtains, look within my veil, Turn up my metaphors, and do not foil ; There, if thou seekestthem, such things thou’ltfmd, 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 wrapped up in ore ? None throw away the apple for the core. But if thou shalt cast all away as vain, I know not but ’twill make me dream again. 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 esteem it above all things ? If so, though I may find all things in nature, in the world, and from Satan, continually opposing this, yet I am in Christ the way, and he is in me the truth and the life. I am one with him, and he is one with me. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. PART II. WHEREIN IS SET FORTH THE MANNER OF THE SETTING OUT OF CHRISTIAN’S WIFE AND CHILDREN; THEIR DANGEROUS JOURNEY AND SAFE ARRIVAL AT THE DESIRED COUNTRY. THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE TO TIIE SECOND PART. Go now, my little book, to every place, Where my First Pilgrim has but shown his face; Call at their door; if any say, Who’s there? Then answer thou, Christiana is here. If they hid thee come in, then enter thou, With all thy hoys ; and then, as thou knowest how, Tell who they are, also from whence they came ; \ Perhaps they know them by their looks or name ; But if they should not, ask them yet again, If formerly they did not entertain One Christian, a Pilgrim ? If they say They did, and were delighted in his way, Then let them know, that these related were Unto him ; yea, his wife and children are. Tell them, that they have left their house and home, Are turned Pilgrims ; seek a world to come ; That they have met with hardships in the way ; That they do meet with troubles night and day : That they have trod on serpents, fought with devils ; Have also overcome a many evils. Yea, tell them also of the next who have, Of love to pilgrimage been stout and brave Defenders of that way ; and how they still Refuse this world, to do their Father’s will. Go tell them also of those dainty things, That pilgrimage unto the Pilgrim brings : Let them acquainted be too, how they are Beloved of their King, under his care ; What goodly mansions he for them provides, Though they meet with rough winds and swelling tides ; How brave a calm they will enjoy at last, Who to the Lord, and to his ways hold fast. Perhaps with heart and hand they will embrace Thee, as they did my firstling, and will grace Thee and thy fellows with such cheer and fare, As show well they of Pilgrims lovers are. OBJECTION I. But how, if they will not believe of me That I am truly thine ; ’cause some there be That counterfeit the Pilgrim and his name, Seek, by disguise, to seem the very same ; And, by that means, have brought themselves into The hands and houses of I know not who. ANSWER. ’Tis true, some have, of late, to counterfeit My Pilgrim, to their own my title set ; Yea, others half my name, and title too, Have stitched to their books, to make them do ; But yet they, by their features, do declare Themselves not mine to be, whose e’er they are. If such thou meet? st with, then thine only way Before them all, is to say out thy say In thine own native language, which no man Row usetli, or with ease dissemble can. If, after all, they still of you shall doubt, Thinking that you like gypsies go about, In nauglity-wise, the country to defile ; Or that you seek good people to beguile With things unwarrantable, send for me, And I will testify you Pilgrims be ; Yea, I will testify that only you My Pilgrims are, and that alone will do. 173 174 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. OBJECTION II. But yet, perhaps, I may inquire for him, Of those who wish him damned life and limb : What shall I do, when I at such a door For Pilgrims ask, and they shall rage the more ? ANSWER. Fright not thyself, my book ; for such bug-bears Are nothing else but ground for groundless fears ; My Pilgrim’s book has travelled 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. In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, My Pilgrim is esteem’d a friend, a brother. In Holland too, ’tis said, as I am told, My Pilgrim is, with some, worth more than gold ; Highlanders and wild Irish can agree My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. ’Tis in New England under such advance, Receives there so much loving countenance, As to be trimm’d, new cloth’ d, and deck’d with gems, That it may show its features and its limbs. Yet more; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, That of him thousands daily sing and talk. If you draw nearer home, it will appear, My Pilgrim knows no ground of shame or fear : City and country will him entertain, With, Welcome, Pilgrim ; yea, they can’t refrain From smiling, if my Pilgrim be but by, Or shows his head in any company. Brave gallants do my Pilgrim hug and love, Esteem it much : yea, value it above Things of a greater bulk ; yea, with delight Say, my lark’s leg is better than a kite. Young ladies, and young gentlemen too, Do no small kindness to my Pilgrim show : Their cabinets, their bosoms, and their hearts, My Pilgrim has, ’cause he to them imparts His pretty riddles, in such wholesome strains, As yields them profit double to their pains Of reading ; yea, I think I may be bold To say, some prize him far above their gold. The very children that do walk the street, If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet, Salute him will ; will wish him well and say, He is the only stripling of the day. They that have never seen him, yet admire What they have heard of him, and much desire To have his company, and hear him tell Those pilgrim stories which he knows so well. Yea, some 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 com- mend, And to those whom they love, they do him send. Wherefore, my Second Part, thou need’st not be Afraid to show thy head : none can hurt thee, That wish but well to him that went before : ’Cause thou com’st after with a second store Of things as good, as rich, as profitable, For young, for old, for stagg’ring, and for stable. OBJECTION III. But some there be that say, he laughs too loud ; And some do say, his head is in a cloud, Some say, his words and stories are so dark, They know not how by them to find his mark. ANSWER. One may (I think) say, both his laughs and cries May well be guess’d at by his wat’ry eyes. Some things are of that nature as to make One’s fancy chuckle while his heart doth ache ; When Jacob saw his Rachel with the sheep, He did at the same time both kiss and weep. Whereas some say, A cloud is in llis head, That doth but show his wisdom’s covered With his own mantle ; and to stir the mind To search well after what it fain would find, Things that seem to be hid in words obscure, Do but the godly mind the more allure, To study what those sayings should contain, That speak to us in such a cloudy strain. I also know, a dark similitude Will on the curious fancy more intrude, And will stick faster in. the heart and head, Than things from similes not borrowed. Wherefore, my Book, let no discouragement Hinder thy travels : behold ! thou art sent To friends, not foes; to friends that will give place To thee, thy Pilgrims, and thy words embrace. Besides, what my first Pilgrim left conceal’d, Thou, my brave second Pilgrim, hast reveal’d : What Christian left lock’d up, and went his way, Sweet Christiana opens with her key. OBJECTION IV. But some love not the method of your first : Romance they count it, throw’t away as dust. If I should meet with such, what should I say ? Must I slight them as they slight me, or nay ? ANSWER. My Christiana, if with such thou meet, By all means, in all loving wise, them greet ; Render them not reviling for revile; TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. But if they frown, I pr’ythec on them smile ; Perhaps ’tis nature, or some ill report, Has made them thus despise, or thus retort. Some love no fish, some love no cheese; and some Love not their friends, nor their own house or home ; Some start at pig, slight chicken, love not fowl, More than they love a cuckoo or an owl. Leave such, my Christiana, to their choice, And seek those who to find thee will rejoice: Bv 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 slialt keep close shut up from the rest: And wish that thou shalt show them may be blcss’d To them for good, and make them choose to be Pilgrims by better far than thee and me. Go then, I say, tell all men who thou art, Say, I am Christiana, and my part Is now with my four sons, to tell you what It is for men to take a Pilgrim’s lot. Go, also, tell them who and what 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 learn ’Twixt idle ones and Pilgrims to discern. Yea, let young damsels learn of her to prize The world which is to come, in any wise. When little tripping maidens follow God, And leave old doating sinners to his rod, ’Tis like those days, wherein the young ones cried, Hosanna ! when the old ones did deride. Next, tell them of old Honest, whom you found, With his white hairs, treading the Pilgrim’s ground ; Yea, tell them how plain-hearted this man was ; How after his good Lord he bare the cross. Perhaps with some 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. 175 He was a good man though much down in spirit; lie is a good man, and doth life inherit. Tell them of Mr. Fceblc-mind also, Who not before, but still behind would go: Show them also, how he’d like (’have been slain, And how one Great-heart did his life regain. This man was true of heart, though weak in grace; One might true godliness read in his face. Then tell them of Mr. Heady-to-halt, A man with crutches, but much without fault : Tell them how Mr. Feeble-mind and he Did love, and in opinion much agree ; And let all know, though weakness was their chance, Yet sometimes one could sing, the other dance. Forget not Mr. Valiant-for-the-truth, That man of courage, though a very youth. Tell every one his spirit was so stout No one could ever make him face about ; And how Great-heart and he could not forbear But pull down Doubting Castle, slay Despair. Overlook not Mr. Despondency, Nor Much-afraid, his daughter, though they lie Under such mantles as may make them look (With some) as if their God had them forsook. They softly went, but sure; and at the end, Found that the Lord of Pilgrims was their friend. When thou hast told the world of all these things, Then turn about, my Book, and touch these strings, Which if but touched, will such music make, They’ll make a cripple dance, a giant quake. Those riddles that lie couch’d within thy breast, Freely propound, expound, and 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 r ea, may this second Pilgrim yield that fruit As may with each good Pilgrim’s fancy suit, And may it some persuade that go astray, To turn their feet and heart to the right way, Is the hearty prayer of the Author, JOHN BUNYAN. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. PART II. CHAPTER I. Christiana, with her jour Sons and a Neighbour, sets out on Pilgrimage. Courteous Companions : Some time since, to tell you a dream that I had of Christian the Pilgrim,* and of his dan- gerous 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 with- out them ; for he durst not run the danger of that destruction, which he feared would come by staying with them in the city of Destruc- tion : wherefore, as I then showed you, he left them, and departed. Now it has so happened, through the mul- tiplicity of business, that I have been much hindered and kept back from my wonted travels into those parts where he went, and so could not, till now, obtain an opportunity to make further inquiry after whom he left be- hind, that I might give you an account of them. But having had some concerns that way of late, I went down again thitherward. Now, having taken up my lodging in a wood, about a mile off the place, as I slept I dreamed again. And, as I was in my dream, behold an aged gentleman came by where I lay ; and because he was to go some part of the way that I was * Though the second part of the Pilgrim’s Progress will not strike the reader 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 ex- plains 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 176 travelling, methought I got up and went with him. So, as we walked, and as travellers usu- ally do, I was as if we fell into a discourse, and our talk happened to be about Christian and his travels : for thus I began with the old man : Sir, said I, what town is that there below, that lieth on the left hand of our way ? Then said Mr. Sagacity, (for that was his name,) It is the city of Destruction, a popu- lous place, but possessed with a very ill-con- ditioned and idle sort of people. I thought that was that city, quoth I; I went once myself through that town; and therefore I know that this report you give of it is true. Sagacity. Too true ! I wish I could speak truth in speaking better of them that dwell therein. Well, sir, quoth I, then I perceive you to be a well-meaning man, and so one that takes pleasure to hear and tell of that which is good: pray did you never hear what happened to a man some time ago in this town, (whose name was Christian,) that went on a pilgrimage up towards the higher regions ? Sagacity. Hear of him ! Ay, and I also heard of the molestations, troubles, wars, cap- tivities, cries, groans, frights, and fears, that he largely improved. The second part is peculiarly adapted to direct and encourage female Christians and young persons; and it is hoped, will be particu- larly attended to by such. It is perhaps needless to remark, that no reasonable doubt can be entertained as to the authenticity of this work : Mr. Bunj'an can- not be imitated: and the sweet simplicity that cha- racterizes the first part, is equally obvious in the second. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 177 met with and had on his journey. Besides, I must tell you, all our country rings of him ; there arc 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 lie is: yea, many of them that are resolved never to run his hazards, yet have their mouths water at his gains.* They may, quoth I, well think, if they think any thing that is true, that he liveth well where he is ; for lie now lives at and in the Fountain of life, and has what he has without labour and sorrow ; for there is no grief mixed there- with. But pray, what talk have the people about him? Sagacity. Talk ! the people talk strangely about him ; some say, that he now walks in white, (Rev. iii. 4; vi. 11;) 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 themselves to him in his journey, arc become his companions, and that he is as familiar with them in the place where he is, as here one neighbour is with another. Zecli. iii. 7. Besides, it is confidently affirmed concerning him, that the King of the place where he is, has bestowed upon him already a very rich and pleasant dwelling at court, and that he every day eateth, and drinketh, and walketh, and talketh with him, and receiveth the smiles and favours of him that is Judge of all there. Moreover, it is expected of some, that his Prince, the Lord of that country, will shortly come into these parts, and will know the reason, if they can give any, why his neighbours set so little by him, and had him so much in derision, when they perceived that he would be a pilgrim. Jude 15. For they say, that now he is so in the af- fections of his Prince,f and that his Sovereign is so much concerned with the indignities that * This is quito natural and very common. The men of this world will canonize those for saints when dead whom they stigmatized with the vilest names when living. Oh let us leave our characters to Him who died for our sins, and to whom we can commit our souls. | Christian’s King will take Christian’s part. 0 pilgrim, write this upon the table of thine heart, and read it every step of thy journey. J Mark this well. No matter what profession we 12 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 ven- tured as he did. J Luke x. 16. 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, (Rev. xiv. 13,) and for that now he reaps the benefits of his tears with joy, (Ps. exxvi. 5, 6.) and for that he has got beyond the gun-shot of his enemies, and is out of the reach of them that hate him. I also am glad, for that a rumour of these things is noised abroad in this country ; who can tell but that it may work some good effect on some that are 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 won- der in my mind what they do. Sagacity. Who? Christiana and her sons? They are 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 Christian, yet second thoughts have wrought wonderfully with them: so they have packed up, and are also gone after him. || Better and better, quoth I : but what ! wife, and children, and all ? Sagacity. It is true : I can give you an ac- count of the matter, for I was upon the spot at the instant, and was thoroughly acquainted with the whole affair. Then, said I, a man may report it for the truth ? Sagacity. You need not fear to affirm it; I mean that they are all gone on pilgrimage, both the good woman and her four boys. And being we are, as I perceive, going some con- siderable 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 be- took themselves to a pilgrim’s life,) after her husband was gone over the river, and sbe could hear of him no more, her thoughts began to work in her mind. First, for that she had lost make, if the love of Christ 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. || Though moral persuasions, and all the affectionate arguments from a tender husband or an affectionate parent, may appear to prove ineffectual for the present, yet let us not neglect our duty, but be earnest in it, and leave the event to sovereign grace. 178 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. her husband, and for that the loving bond of that relation was utterly broken betwixt them. For you know, said lie to me, nature can do no less but entertain the living with many a heavy cogitation, in the remembrance of the loss of loving relations. This, therefore, of her husband, did cost her many a tear. But this was not all ; for Christiana did also begin to consider with herself, whether her unbecoming behaviour towards her husband was not one cause that she saw him no more ; and that in such sort he was taken away from her. And upon this came into her mind by swarms, all her unkind, unnatural, and ungodly carriage to her dear friend ; which also clogged her conscience, and did load her with guilt. She was moreover, much broken with calling to remembrance the restless groans, the brinish tears, and self-bemoaning of her husband, and how she did harden her heart against all his entreaties and loving persuasions of her and her sons to go with him; yea, there was not any thing that Christian either said to her or did before her, all the while that his burden did hang on his back, but it returned upon her like a flash of lightning, and rent the caul of her heart in sunder; especially that bitter outcry of his, “ What shall I do to be saved ?” did ring in her ears most dolefully.* Then said she to her children, “Sons, we are all undone. I have sinned away your father, and he is gone : he would have had us with him, but I would not go myself: I also have hindered you of life.” With that the boys fell into tears, and cried to go after their father. “ Oh !” said Christiana, “ that it had been but our lots to go with him ; then it had fared well with us, beyond what it is like to do now. For though I formerly foolishly imagined concerning the troubles of your father, that they proceeded of a foolish fancy that he had, or for that he was overrun with melancholy humours ; yet now it will not out of my mind, but that they sprang from an- other cause; to wit, for that the light of life * Here see, what those who cruelly and unkindly treat their godly relations and friends on account of their religion, must come to feel, in the bitterness of their spirit, and groan under in the sorrow of their soul, if ever the Lord grants them repentance unto life. f Is it any marvel, that a quickened, enlightened sinner should be judged by those around him, who are yet dead in their sins, to be full of whims and melancholy? No; it is very natural for them to think us fools and mad; but we know that they really are so. was given him, (John viii. 12;) by the help of which, as I perceive, he has escaped the snares of death.” f Then they wept all again, and cried out, “ Oh ! woe worth the day !” The next night Christiana had a dream ; and behold she saw as if a broad parchment was opened before her, in w'hicli were re- corded the sum of her ways; and the crimes, as she thought, looked very black upon her. Fhen she cried out aloud in her sleep, “ Lord, have mercy upon me a sinner,” J (Luke xviii. 13 :) 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 with this woman ? for she cries out for mercy waking and sleeping : if she be suffered to go on as she begins, we shall lose her as we have lost her husband. Wherefore we must, by some way, seek to take her off from the thoughts of what shall be hereafter, else all the world cannot help but she will become a pilgrim.” Now she awoke in a great agony; 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 towards the paved work that was under his Prince’s feet, saying, “ I heartily thank my Lord and King for bring- ing me into this place.” Then shouted a com- pany of them that stood round about, and harped with their harps: but no man living could tell what they said but Christian and his companions. Next morning, when she was up, had prayed to God, and talked with her children awhile, one knocked hard at the door ; to whom she spoke out, saying, “ If thou comest in God’s name, come in.” So he said, “ Amen ;” and opened the door, and saluted her with, “ Peace I This is the very first cry of an awakened sinner, mercy for the lost and miserable;, and no sooner are the sinner’s eyes opened to see his ruined, desperate state, and to cry for mercy, but the god of this world, who hitherto had blinded the eyes, and kept the heart secure by presumption, now opposes the sinner’s prog- ress 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. But Jesus, the strong man armed with almighty power and everlasting love, will con- quer and cast him out. TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 170 on tli is house.” The which when he had done, lie said, “Christiana, knowest thou wherefore I am come?” Then she blushed and trembled; also her heart began to wax warm with desires to know from whence he came, and what 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, where I dwell, as if thou hadst a desire to go thither: also there is a report, that thou art aware of the evil thou hast formerly done to thy husband, in hardening of thy heart against his way, and in keeping of these babes in their ignorance. Christiana, the Merciful One has sent me to tell thee, that he is a God ready to forgive, and that he taketh delight to multiply the pardon of offences. He also would have thee to know that he inviteth thee to come into his presence, to his table, and that he will feed thee with the fat of his house, and with the heritage of Jacob thy father. “There is Christian, thy husband that was, with legions more, his companions, ever be- holding 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 her- self, and bowed her head to the ground. This Vision proceeded, and said, “ Christiana, here is also a letter for thee, which I have brought from thy husband’s King ; ” so she took it, and opened it, but it smelt after the manner of the best perfume. Sol. Song i. 3. Also it was written in letters of gold. The contents of the letter were these: “ that the King would have her do as did Christian her husband ; for that was the only way to come to his city, and to dwell in his presence with joy for ever.” At this the good woman was quite overcome : so she cried out to her visitor, “ Sir, will you carry me and my children with you, that we may also go and worship the King?” Then said the visitor, “ Christiana, ‘ the bit- ter is before 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: go to the ® The fear of the Lord is. tho beginning of wis- dom,” (Ps. cxi. 10;) and “ The secret of the Lord is with them who fear him.” Ps. xxv. It. The Spirit the Comforter never convinces tho soul of sin, but lie also revives and comforts the sincere heart with glad tidings of freo and full pardon of sin, through the blood or the LAMB. | Says our Lord, “ When the Spirit is come, he shall Wicket-gate yonder over the plain ; for that stands in the head of the way up which thou must go, and I wish thee good speed. Also I advise thee that thou [Hit this letter in thy bosom ; that thou 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, (Ps. cxix. 54;) also this thou must deliver in at the far gate.” f Now I saw in my dream, that this old gen- tleman, 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 ad- dress herself unto them : “ My sons, I have, as you may perceive, been of late under much exercise in my soul about the death of your father ; not for that I doubt at all of his hap- piness ; 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 also to your father in his distress is a great load to my conscience : for I hardened both my heart and yours against him, and re- fused to go with him on pilgrimage. “ The thoughts of these things would now kill me outright, but for that a dream which I had last night, and but that for the encourage- ment this stranger has given me this morning. Come, my children, let us pack up, and be gene to the gate that leads us to that celestial coun- try, that we may see your father, and be with him and his companions in peace, according to the laws of that land.” Then did her children burst out into tears, for joy that the heart of their mother was so inclined. So the visitor bid them farewell ; and they began to prepare to set out for their journey. But, while they were’thus about to be gone, two of the women that were Christiana’s neigh- bours came up to her house, and knocked at her door. To whom she said as before. At this the women were stunned ; for this kind of language they used not to hear, or to perceive to drop from the lips of Christiana. J Yet they testify of me — ho shall lead you into all truth — he shall show you things to come.” All this the con- vinced sinner finds true in experience. As the Spirit testifies of Christ, so he leads the soul to Christ, that he may be the sinner’s only hope, salvation and strength. Thus he glorifies Christ. J Reader, stop and examine! did ever any of your former friends and carnal acquaintances take know 180 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. came in : but, beliold, they found the good wo- man preparing to be gone from her house. So they began, and said, “Neighbour, pray what is your meaning by this?” Christiana answered, and said to the eldest of them, whose name was Mrs. Timorous, “ I am preparing for a journey.” (fljhis Timorous was daughter to him that met Christian upon the hill of Difficulty, and would have had him go back for fear of the lions.) Timorous. For what journey, I pray you? Christiana. Even to go after my old husband. And with that she fell a weeping. Timorous. I hope not so, good neighbour; pray, for your poor children’s sake, do not so unwomanly cast away yourself. Christiana. Nay, my children shall go with me : not one of them is willing to stay behind. Timorous. I wonder in my heart, what or who has brought you into this mind ! Christiana. Oh, neighbour, knew you but as much as I do, I doubt not but that you would go along with me. Timorous. Pr’ythee, what new knowledge hast thou got, that so worketh off thy mind from thy friends, and that tempteth thee to go nobody knows where? 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 troubletli me most, is my churl- ish carriage to him, when he was under his distress. Besides, I am now as he was then ; nothing will serve me but going on pilgrimage. I was a dreaming last night that I saw him. Oh that my soul was with him ! He dwelleth in the presence of the King of the country; he sits and eats with him at bistable; he is become a companions of immortals, and has a house now given him to dwell in, to which the best palaces on earth, if compared, seem to me ledge of a difference in your language and conduct? Do they still approve of you as well as ever? What reason, then, have you to think yourself a pilgrim ? for no sooner does any one commence a pilgrim, but tha. i, ord is fulfilled, “ For then I will turn to the peo- ple a pure language.” Zeph. iii. 7. If the heart be ever so little acquainted with the Lord, the tongue will discover it, and the carnal and profane will ridicule and despise you for it. * This was a letter full of the love of Jesus, and the precious invitation of his loving heart to all sinners to come unto him, as recorded in this blessed word. Happy sinners, whose eyes are opened to read them : but this the world calls madness. t The Lord, who quickens us by his Spirit, and calls us by his word, well knows the carnal enemies who will but as a dung-hill. 2 Cor. v. 1-4. The Prince of the palace has also sent for me, with promises of entertainment, if I shall come to him ; his messenger was here even now, and brought me a letter, which invites me to come. And with that she plucked out her letter, and read it, and said to them,* * What now will you say to this ? Timorous. Oh the madness that hath pos- sessed thee and thy husband ! to run yourself upon such difficulties ! You have heard, I am sure, what your husband did meet with, even in a manner, at the first step that he took on his way, as our neighbour Obstinate can yet testify, for he went along with him ; yea, and Pliable too, until they, like wise men, were afraid to go any further. We also heard, over and above, how he met with the lions, Apol- lyon, the Shadow of Death, and many other things. Nor is the danger that he met with at Vanity Fair to be forgotten by thee. For if he, though a man, was so hard put to it, what canst thou, being but a poor woman, do ? Con- sider also, that these four sweet babes are thy children, thy flesh, and thy bones. Therefore, though thou shouldst be so rash as to cast away thyself; yet for the sake of the fruit of thy body, keep them at home.f 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 with the opportunity. And for that you tell me of all these troubles that I am like to meet with in the way, they are so far from being to me a discouragement, that they show I am in the right. The bitter must come be- fore the sweet, and that also will make the sweet the sweeter. Wherefore, since you came not to my house in God’s name, as I said, I pray you be gone, and do not disquiet me fur- ther. J oppose our progress in the divine life: therefore ho tells us, “If thy brother, or the wife of thy bosom, or thy friend, which is as thine own soul, entice thee se- cretly from the Lord, thou shalt not hearken unto him,” Ac. Deut. xiii. 6. Let the word of God be the rule, and Christiana’s conduct an example to all who are setting their faces Zion-ward. Oh beware of the rea- soning of the flesh. Dread to look back. Tremble at the thought of going back; for the Lord hath no pleasure in such. Hob. x. 3S. J That is right. It is well to be bold in the name of the Lord with those who seek to turn us away from following on to know the Lord; for nothing less than life and salvation, or death and damnation, will be the issue of it. 0 pilgrims, beware! beware of parleying with the carnal. Ever remember, you have a nature THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 181 Then Timorous also reviled Iter, and said to her fellow, “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 two-fold reason: 1st. Her bowels yearned over 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 Timorous. Mercy. Neighbour, I did indeed come with you to see Christiana this morning ; and, since she is, as you see, a taking her last farewell of the country, I think to walk this sunshiny morning a little with her, to help her on her way. But she told her not of her second reason, but kept it to herself. Timorous. Well, I see you have a mind to go a fooling too : but take heed in time, and be wise ; while we are out of danger, we are out ; but when we are in, we are in. So Mrs. Tim- orous returned to her house, and Christiana betook herself to her journey.* But when Timorous was got home to her house, she sends for some of her neighbours, to wit, Mrs. Bat’s- eyes, Mrs. Inconsiderate, Mrs. Light-mind, and Mrs. Know-nothing. So, when they were come to her house, she falls to telling the story of Christiana, and of her intended journey. And thus she began her tale : 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 found her preparing herself to depart the town : she, and also her children. So I asked her, what was her meaning by that? And she told me in short, that she was now of a mind to go on pilgrimage, as did her husband. She told me also a dream that she had, and 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 shall be taken and the other left.” Matt. xxiv. 41. Mercy obeys the call — Timorous perversely rejects it. ■(■ Oh how do such carnal wretches sport with their how the King of the country where her hus- band was, bad sent her an inviting letter to come thither. Then said Mrs. Know-nothing, And what, do you think she will go? Timorous. Ay, go she will, whatever come on’t: and mcthinks, I know it by this; for that which was my great argument to persuade her to stay at home, (to wit, the troubles she was like to meet with in the way,) is one great argument with her, to put her forward cn her journey. For she told me in so many words, “The bitter goes before the sweet: yea, and forasmuch as it doth, it makes the sweet the sweeter.” Mrs. Bat’s-eyes. Oh this blind and foolish woman ! and will she not take warning by her husband’s afflictions? For my part, I see, if he were here 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 where 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 for her departure; let her go, and let better come in her room: it was never a good world since these whimsical fools dwelt in it.f Then Mrs. Light-mind added as followeth : Come, put this kind of talk away. I was yes- terday at Madam Wanton’s, where we were as merry as the maids. For who do you think should be there, but I and Mrs. Love-the-flesh, and three or four more, with Mrs. Lechery, Mrs. Filth, and some others : so there we had music and dancing and what else was meet to fill up the pleasure. And, I dare say, my lady herself is an admirable well-bred gentlewoman, and Mr. Lechery is as pretty a fellow. By this time Christiana was got on her way, and Mercy went along with her : so, as they went, her children being there also, Christiana began to discourse. “ And, Mercy,” said Christiana, “ I take this as an unexpected fa- vour, that thou shouldest set foot out of doors with me, to accompany me a little in my way.” own damnation, while they despise the precious truths of God, and ridicule his people; But it was in the be- ginning, 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. 182 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Then said young Mercy, (for she was but young,) If I thought it would be to purpose to go with you, I would never go near the town. 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 Span- ish mines. Nor shalt thou be rejected, though thou goest but upon my invitation. The King, who hath sent for me and my children, is one that delighteth in mercy. Besides, if thou wilt, I will hire thee, and thou shalt go along with me as my servant. Yet we will have all things in common betwixt thee and me ; only go along with me.* Mercy. But how shall I be ascertained that I also shall be entertained ? Had I this hope from one that can tell, I would make no stick at all, but would go, being helped by him that can help, though the way was never so tedious. f Christiana. Well, loving Mercy, I will tell thee what thou shalt do : go with me to the Wicket-gate, and there I will further inquire for thee; and if there thou shalt not meet with encouragement, I will be content that thou shalt return to' thy place; I also will pay thee for thy kindness which thou showest to me and my children, in the accompanying of us on our way as thou dost. Mercy. Then will I go thither, and will take what shall follow: and the Lord grant that my lot may there fall, even as the King of heaven shall have his heart upon me.J Christiana was then glad at heart; not only that she had a companion ; but also for that she had prevailed with this poor maid to fall in love with her own salvation. So they went on * Such is the true spirit of all real pilgrims. They wish others to know Christ, and to become followers of him with themselves. Oh how happy are they when the Lord is pleased to draw the hearts of any of their fellow-sinners to himself! 1 Though Christiana clearly saw and knew her call- ing of God, yet Mercy did not; therefore she is in doubt about it. Just so it is with many at their first setting out. Hence they are ready to say, that they could even wish to have had the most violent convic- tions of sin, and to have been as it were, shook over the month of hell, that they might have had a greater certainty of their being called of God. But this is speaking unadvisedly. Better to take the apostle’s together, and Mercy began to weep. Then said Christiana, “ Wherefore weepeth my sis- ter so ?” Alas ! said she, who can but lament, that shall but rightly consider what a state and condition my poor relations are in, that yet remain in our sinful town? and that which makes my grief the more is, because they have no instruction, nor any to tell them what is to come. || Christiana. Bowels . become pilgrims : and thou doest for thy friends, as my good Chris- tian did for me when he left me : he mourned for that I would not heed nor regard him ; but his Lord and ours did gather up his tears, and put them into his bottle ; and now both I and thou, and these my sweet babes, are reaping the fruit and benefit of them. I hope, Mercy, that these tears of thine will not be lost ; for the truth hath said, that “they that sow in tears shall reap in joy and singing.” And “he that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him.” Ps. exxvi. 5, 6. Then said Mercy — “ Let the most blessed be my guide, If’t be his blessed will, Unto his gate, into his fold. Up to his holy hill : “And let him never suffer me To swerve or turn aside Prom his free grace and holy ways, Whate’er shall me betide. “And let him gather them of mine. That I have left behind ; Lord, make them pray they may be thine, With all their heart and miud.” advice; “Give all diligence to make your calling sure.” J Here is a blessed discovery of a heart divinely in structed. Mind, here is no looking to anything Mercy was in herself, nor to anything she could do for her- self, but all is resolved into this, all is cast upon this, even the love of the heart of the King of heaven. Reader, can you be content with this lot? Can you cast all, and rest all, upon the love of Christ ? Then bless his loving name for giving you a pilgrim’s heart ]| This is natural; when we know the worth of our souls and the value of Christ’s salvation, and weep for our sins, also to mourn and weep for our carnal rela- tives, lest they should be eternally lost. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 183 CHAPTER II. Christiana, Mercy, and the Children pass the Slough with safety, and are kindly received at the Wicket-gate. Now, my old friend proceeded and said: But when Christiana came to the slough of Despond, she began to be at a stand ; “ For,” said she, “ this is the place in which my dear husband had like to have been smothered with mud.” She perceived also, that, notwithstand- ing the command of the King to make this place for pilgrims good, yet it was rather worse than formerly. So I asked if that was true ? Yes, said the old gentleman, too true: for many there be, that pretend to be the King’s labourers, and say they are for mending the King’s highways, that bring dirt and dung in- stead of stones, and so mar, instead of mend- ing.* Here Christiana, 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 perform- ance of what has been told her from the Lord.” Then they went on again ; and said Mercy to Christiana, Had I as good ground to hope for a loving reception at the Wicket-gate, as you, I think no plough of Despond could dis- courage 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 imagined, that the people that design to attain such ex- cellent glories as we do, and that are so envied that happiness as we are, but that we shall meet with fears and snares, with what troubles * But instead of being what they profess, the King’s labourers, Paul calls them Gospel-pevverters and soul- troublers, Gal. v. 10. For instead of preaching a free and full salvation, graciously bestowed upon poor sin- ners, who can do nothing to entitle themselves to it, or to gain an interest in it : behold, these wretched daubers set forth salvation to sale upon certain terms and conditions, which sinners are to perform and ful- fil. Thus they distress the upright and sincere, and deceive the self-righteous and wary into pride and de- lusion. Thus they mar, instead of mend the way; and afflictions they can possibly assault U3 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 Chris- tiana began to knock, and, as her poor hus- band did, she knocked and knocked again. But instead of any that answered, they all thought that they heard as if a dog came bark- ing upon them ; a dog, and a great one too ; and this made the women and children afraid. Nor durst they for a while to knock any more, for fear the mastiff should fly upon them. Now therefore they were greatly tumbled up and down in their minds, and knew not what to do: knock they durst not, for fear of the dog ; go back they durst not, for fear the keeper of that gate should espy them as they so went, and be offended with them: at last they thought of knocking again, and knocking more vehe- mently than they did at first. Then said the keeper of the gate, “ Who is there?” So the dog left ofl' to bark, and he opened unto tliem.f Then Christiana made a low obeisance, and said, Let not our Lord be offended with his hand-maidens, for that we have knocked at his princely gate.” Then said the keeper, “ Whence come ye ? And what is it that you would have ?” Christiana answered, We are come from whence Christian did come, and upon the same and bring dirt and dung, instead of stones, to make the way sound and safe for pilgrims. Beware of the sophistry of such professors. •j" No sooner does a poor sinner open his lips in prayer to Jesus, but the devil will bark and roar at him, and by all means try to terrify and discourage him. Do you find this? What is your remedy? Resist the devil, and he will fly from you. James iv. 7. Draw nigh to God, and he will draw nigh to you. James iv. S. Oh ever remember our Lord’s word, men should pray always and n jt faint. Luke xviii. 1. 184 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. errand as lie, to wit, to be, if it shall please you, graciously admitted, by this gate, into the way that leads unto the Celestial City. And I answer, my Lord, in the next place, that I am Christiana, once the wife of Christian, that now is gotten above. With that the keeper of the gate did marvel, saying, “ What, is she now become a pilgrim, that but a while ago abhorred that life ?” Then she bowed her head, and said, “Yea; and so are these my sweet babes also.” Then he took her by the hand, and led her in, and said also, “ Suffer 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 Chris- tiana with shouting, and sound of trumpet, for joy. So he obeyed, and sounded, and filled the air with his melodious notes. Now all this while poor Mercy did stand without, trembling and crying for fear that she was rejected. But when Christiana had gotten admittance for herself and her boys, then she began to make intercession for Mercy. 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 being sent for ; whereas I was sent to by my husband’s King to come. Now Mercy began to be very impatient, and each minute was as long to her as an hour ; wherefore she prevented Christiana from a fuller interceding for her, by knocking at the gate herself. And she knocked then so loud, that she made Christiana to start. Then said the keeper of the gate, “ Who is there?” And Christiana said, “ It is my friend.” So he opened the gate and looked out, hut 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.” “Oh, sir, (said she,) I am faint; there is scarce life left in me.” But he answered, that * Mercy’s case is not singular. Many have set out just as she did, and have been discouraged by the same reason as she was. She, as many have been, was encouraged to set out in the ways of the Lord by her neighbour and friend. Ilcnce she thought there was no cause to conclude that she was called by the Lord, but that it was only the cifect of human power or moral persuasion, and therefore doubted and fainted lest she should not meet with acceptance. But her' one said, “When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord, and my prayer came unto thee, into thy holy temple.” Jonah ii. 7. Fear not, but stand upon thy feet, and tell me wherefore thou art come. Mercy. I am come for that unto which I was never invited, as my friend Christiana was. Hers was from the King, and mine was but from her. Wherefore I fear I presume.* Good-will. Did she desire thee to come with her to this place ? Mercy. Yes; and, as my Lord sees, I am come; and if there is any grace and for- giveness of sins to spare, I beseech that 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 so- ever 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 hoys, and Mercy, received of the Lord at the head of the way, and spoke kindly unto by him. Then said they yet further unto him, “We are sorry for our sins, and beg of our Lord his pardon, and further information what we must do.” I grant pardon, said he, by word and deed: by word, in the promise of forgiveness; by deed, in the way I obtained it. Take the first from my lips with a kiss, and the other as it shall be revealed. Song Sol. i. 2; John xx. 19. Now I saw in my dream, that he spake many good words unto them, whereby they were greatly gladdened. He also had them up to the top of the gate, and showed them by what deed they were saved; and told them withal, that that sight they would have again as they went along in the way, to their com- fort. So he left them awhile in a summer parlour below, where they entered into talk by them- selves: and thus Christiana began : “0 Lord, how glad am I that we are got in hither !” very doubts, fears, and distress, proved the earnest- ness of her heart, and the desire of her soul after the Saviour; and also, that his mercy, love, and gracious power, had a hand in the work. Mark this, ye poor, doubting, fearful, trembling souls, who are halting every step, and fearing you have not set out aright, hear what Christ’s angel said, and be not discouraged. Bear not, for ye seek Jesus. Matt, xxviii. 5. THE riLG RIM’S PROGRESS. Mercy. So you well say : but I of all have cause to leap for joy. Christiana. I thought one time as I stood at the gate, (because I had knocked, and none did answer,) that all our labour had been lost, especially when that ugly cur made such a heavy barking at us.* Mercy, lint 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 ful- filled which is written, “ Two women shall be grinding together, the one shall be taken and the other left.” Matt. xxiv. 41. I had much ado to forbear crying out, Undone! And afraid I was to knock any more : but when I looked up to what was written over the gate, I took courage. I also thought, that I must either knock again or die : t so I knocked, but I cannot tell how, for my spirit now struggled between! life and death. Christiana. Can you not tell how you knocked? I am sure your knocks were so earnest, that the very sound made me start: I thought I never heard such knocking in all my life; I thought you would come in by a violent hand, or take the kingdom by storm. Matt. xi. 12. Mercy. Alas, to be in my case! who that so was, could have but done so? You saw that the door was shut upon me, and that there was a most cruel dog thereabout. Who, I say, that was so faint-hearted as I, would not have knocked with all their might? But pray, what said my lord unto my rudeness? Was he not angry with me? Christiana. When he heard your lumbering noise, he gave a wonderful innocent smile: I believe what you did pleased him well, for he showed no sign to the contrary. But I marvel in my heart why he keeps such a dog: had I known that before, I should not have had heart enough to have ventured myself in this manner. But now we are in, we are in, and I am glad with all my heart. Mercy. I will ask, if you please, next time he comes down, why he keeps such a filthy cur in his yard : I hope he will not take it amiss. Do so, said the children, and persuade him to hang him ; for we are afraid he will bite us when we go hence. s The devil often barks most at us, and brings bis heaviest accusations against us, wheu mercy, peace, comfort, and salvation arc nearest to us. “ Press on, nor fear to win the day, Though earth and hell obstruct the way.” 185 So at last he came down to them again, and Mercy fell to the ground on her face before him, and worshipped, and said, “ Let my Lord accept the sacrifice of praise which I now offer unto him with the calves of my lips.” So he said unto her, “Peace be to thee; stand up.” But she continued upon her face, and said, “ Righteous art thou, O Lord, when I plead with thee, yet let me talk with thee of thy judgments,” (Jer. xii. 1, 2;) wherefore dost thou keep so cruel a dog in thy yard, at the sight of which, such women and children as we, are ready to 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 frightened many an honest pilgrim from worse to better, by the great voice of his roaring. Indeed, he that owncth him doth not keep him out of any good-will to me or mine, but with intent to keep the pilgrims from coming to me, and that they may be afraid to come and knock at this gate for en- trance. Sometimes also he has broken out, and has worried some that I loved ; but I take it all at present patiently. I also give my pil- grims timely help, so that they are not deliv- ered up to his power to do them what his dog- gish nature would prompt him to. But what ! my purchased one, I trow, hadst thou known never so much before-liand, thou wouldst not have been afraid of a dog. The beggars that go from door to door, will rather than they will lose a supposed alms, run the hazard of the bawling, barking, and biting too of a dog ; and shall a dog in another man’s yard, a dog whose barking I turn to the profit of pilgrims, keep any from coming to me? I deliver them from the lions, and “ my darling from the power of the dog.” Then said Mercy, I confess my ignorance : I speak what I understand not : I acknowledge that thou doest all things well. Then Christiana began to talk of their jour- ney, and to inquire after the way. So he fed them, and washed their feet, and set them in the way of his steps, according as he had dealt with her husband before. So I saw in my dream that they went on f Here is a blessed example of deep humility, and of holy boldness, excited by the divine word. Go, thou ruined sinner, and do likewise. 186 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. their way ; and the weather was comfortable to them. Then Christiana began to sing, saying — “’Tis true ’twas long ere I began To seek to live forever : * But now I run fast as I can ; ’Tis better late than never. “Bless’d be the day that I began A pilgrim for to be; And blessed also be that man That thereunto mov’d me. “Our tears to joy, our fears to faith, Are turned as we see; That our beginning (as one saith) Shows what our end will be.” CHAPTER III. The Pilgrims are assaulted, hut relieved — Are entertained at the Interpreter’s House. Now there was on the other side of the wall, that fenced in the way up which Chris- tiana and her companions were to go, a gar- den, 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, shdt their branches over the wall; and being mellow, they that found them did gather them up, and eat of them to their hurt. So Christiana’s boys (as boys are apt to do) being pleased w r ith the trees, and with the fruit that did hang thereon, did pluck them, and began to eat. Their mother did also chide them for so doing, but still the boys went on.f “Well,” said she, “my sons, you transgress; for that fruit is none of ours but she did not know that they did belong to the enemy : I’ll warrant you, if she had, she “would have been ready to die for fear. But that passed, and they went on their way. Now, by that they were gone about two bows’ shot from the place that led them into the way, they espied two very ill-favoured ones coming down apace to meet them.J 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 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 Chris- * Matt. xx. 16. f What is the garden but the world? What is the fruit they here found? The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life. 1 John ii. 16. J W bat are these ill-favoured ones? Such as you will be sure to meet with in your pilgrimage; some tiana waxed very wroth, and spurned at them with her feet. Mercy also, as well as she could, did what she could to shift them. Christiana again said to them, “Stand back and be gone, for we have no money to lose, being pilgrims as you see, and such too as live upon the charity of our friends.” Then said one of the two 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 w r e 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 way. 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 he brought into such snares as shall hazard our well- being hereafter.” And with that they both shrieked out, and cried Murder ! Murder! and so put themselves under those laws that are provided for the protection of women. Deut. xxii. 23, 27. But the men still made their approach upon them, with design to pre- vail against them. They therefore cried out again. || vile lusts, or cursed corruptions, which are suited to your carnal nature. These will attack you, strive to prevail against you, and overcome you. Mind how these pilgrims acted, and follow their example. || Here we see that the most violent lemptations to the greatest evil is not ’sin, if resisted and not com- TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 187 Now they being, ns I said, not far from the gate, in at which they came, their voice was heard from where they were thither; where- fore some of the house came out, and knowing that it was Christiana’s tongue, they made haste to her relief. But by that they were got within sight of them, the women were in a very great scuffle : the children also stood cry- ing by. Then did he who came in for their relief call out to the ruffians, saying, “ What is that thing you do? Would you make my Lord’s people to transgress?” He also at- tempted to take them ; but they did make their escape over the wall into the garden of the man to whom the great dog belonged : so the dog became their protector. This Re- liever then came up to the women, and asked them how they did. So they answered, “ We thank thy Prince, pretty well ; only we have been somewhat affrighted : we thank thee also, that thou earnest in to our help, for otherwise we had been overcome.” So after a few more words, this Reliever said as followeth: I marvelled much, when you were entertained at the gate above, seeing ye knew that ye were but weak women, that you petitioned not the Lord for a conductor ; then might you have avoided these troubles and dangers : 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 have li\rked such naughty ones? Indeed it had been well for us, had we asked our Lord for one; but since our Lord knew it would be for our profit, I wonder he sent not one along with us.f Reliever. It is not always necessary to grant things not asked for, lest by so doing they be- come of little esteem : but when the want of a thing is felt, it then comes under, in the eyes plied with. Our Lord himself was tempted in all things like as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, ye followo 3 of him, don't be dejected and cast down, though you should be exercised with temptations to the blackest crimes, and the most heinous sins. Christ is faithful, and ho will not suffer us to be tempted abovo that we are able; but will, with the temptation, also make a way to escape, that wo may be able to bear it. 1 Cor. x. 13. * Let this convince us of our backwardness to prayer, and make us attend to that Scripture, “Ye have not, beoauso yo ask not.” James iv. 2. j- It is well to value present blessings, to be joyful in them, and thankful for them ; but it is wrong to forget our dangers and grow secure. of him that feels it, that estimate that properly is its due; and so consequently will be here- after used. Had my Lord granted you a con- ductor, you would not, neither, so have be- wailed 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. J Christiana. Shall we go back again to my Lord, and confess our folly and ask one? Reliever. Your confession of your folly I will present him with : to go back again, you need not; for in all places where you shall come you will find no want at all; for 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 whatso- ever. But as I said, “he will be inquired of by them, to do it for them.” Ezek. xxxvi. 37. And it is a poor thing that is not worth asking for. When he had thus said, he went back to his place, and the pilgrims went on their way. 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 much the greater, for that I saw this danger before I came out of the doors, and yet did not provide for it where 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. Christiana. Why, I will tell you : Before I set foot out of doors, one night, as I lay in my bed, I had a dream about this: for methouglit I saw two men, as like these as ever the world they could look, stand at my bed’s feet plotting how they might prevent my salvation. I will tell you their very words: they said, (it was when I was in my troubles,) “ What shall we J What loving, what precious reasoning is this! With what tender affeotion does our Lord reprove ! See how kindly it works upon a pilgrim’s soul. Poor Christiana was going back to confess her folly, and make her request to her Lord. But she is forbidden, and encouraged and oomforted to go on. Oh how does our Lord bear, and what pains does, he take with us, poor awkward creatures, who are ever prone to act amiss ! Let us ever think most lowly of ourselves, and most highly of him. || Here is the display of a truly Christian spirit, in that open and ingenuous confession of her fault, taking all the blame upon herself, exaggerating it, and excusing Mercy. 188 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 have made me take heed, and have provided when provision might have been had. Well, said Mercy, as by this neglect we have an occasion 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 followed us with unasked kindness, and has delivered us from their hands that were stronger than we, of his mere good pleasure. Thus now, when they had talked away a little more time, they drew near to an house that stood in the way ; which house was built for the relief of pilgrims, as you will find more fully related in the first part of the rec- ords of the Pilgrim’s Progress. So they drew on toward the house, (the house of the Inter- preter,) and when they came to the door, they heard a great talk in the house: then they gave ear, and heard, as they thought, Chris- tiana mentioned by name. For you must know, that there went along, even before her, a talk of her and her children going on p>il- grimage. 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 pil- grimage. Thus, therefore, they stood still, and heard the good people within commending her, who they little thought stood at the door. At last Christiana knocked as she had done at the gate before. Now, when she had knocked, there came to the door a young damsel, named Innocent, and opened the door, and looked, and behold two women were there. Then said the damsel to them, “ With whom would you speak in this place?” Christiana answered, “We understand that this is a privileged place for those that are be- come pilgrims, and we now at this door are such: wherefore we pray that we may be par- takers of that for which we at this time are come; for the day, as thou seest, is very far spent, and we are loth to-night to go any further.” * Here see how the experience of true grace works in the heart, by keeping the subject of it low in their own eyes, and cutting off all self-exaltings. “ I am that hard-hearted woman,” &c. This ever dwelt upper- most in Christiana’s heart. 0 soul, if thou truly knowest thyself, thou wilt ever be sinking into noth- ing, because a sinner before the Lord, and confessing Damsel. Pray what may I call your name, that I may tell it to my Lord within? Christiana. My name is Christiana; I was the wife of that pilgrim that some years ago did travel this way; and these be his four children. This maiden is also my companion, and is going on pilgrimage too. Then ran Innocent in, and said to those within, “Can you think who is at the door? There is Christiana, and her children, and her companion, all waiting for entertainment here!” Then they leaped for joy, and went and told their Master. So he came to the door, and looking upon her, he said, Art thou that Christiana whom Christian the good man left behind him, when he betook himself to a pil- grim’s life? Christiana. I am that woman that was so hard-hearted as to slight my husband’s troubles, and that left him to go on his journey alone ,, and these are liis four children ; but now I also am come, for I am convinced that no way is right but this.* Interpreter. Then is fulfilled that which is written of the man that said to his son, “ Go work to-day in my vineyard ; and he said to his father, I will not ; but afterwards repented and went.” Matt. xxi. 28, 29. Then said Christiana, So be it ; Amen. God make it a true saying upon me, and grant that I may be found at the last “ of him in peace, without spot and. blameless !” Interpreter. 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. Come, 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 another smiled, and they all smiled for joy that Christiana was become a pilgrim : they also looked upon the boys ; they stroked them over their faces with their hands, in token of their kind reception of them : they also carried it lovingly to Mercy, thy vileness unto him, acknowledge if he had left theo to thyself, destruction must have been thy inevitable doom. And see how confident divine teaching makes us. Under its power and influence we can say with Christiana, “ I am convinced that no way is right but this,” even to be a pilgrim of the Lord, and a sojour- ner upon the earth. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 189 and bid them all welcome into their Master’s house.* After a while, because supper was not ready, the Interpreter took them into his significant rooms, and showed them what Christian, Chris- tiana’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 somewhat digested by Christiana and her com- pany, the Interpreter takes them apart again, and lias them first into a room, where was a man that could look no way but downwards, with a muck-rake in his band : 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 show his carnal mind. And whereas thou seest him rather give heed to rake up straws and sticks, and the dust of the floor, than do what he says that calls to him from above, with the celestial crown in his hand ; it is to show that heaven is but as a fable to some, and that things here are counted the only things substantial. Now whereas it was also showed thee, that the man could look no way but downwards, it is to let thee know, that * Here is joy indeed, which strangers to the love of Christ intermeddle not with. Believer, did you never partake of this pleasing, this delightful sensation, on seeing other poor sinners, like thyself, called to know Jesus and follow him ? Surely this is the joy of heaven : and if thou hast this joy, thou hast the love that reigns in heaven. Oh for a spread and increase of this spirit among Christians of all denominations ! f The emblematical instruction at the Interpreter’s house, in the former part, was so important and com- prehensive, that no other selection equally interesting could be expected : some valuable hints, however, are here adduced. The first emblem is very plain, and so apposite, that it is a wonder any person should read it, without lifting up a prayer to the Lord, and saying, “ Oh ! deliver me from this muck-rake !” Yet alas, it is to bo feared, such prayers are still little used, even by professors of the Gospel ; at least they are contra- dicted by the habitual conduct of numbers among earthly things, when they are with power upon men’s minds, quite carry their hearts away from God. Then said Christiana, Oh ! deliver me from this muck-rake 1 That prayer, said the Interpreter, has lain by till it is almost rusty : “ Give me not riches,” is scarce the prayer of one of ten thousand. Prov. xxx. 8. Straws, and sticks, and dust, with most, arc the things now looked after. With that Mercy and Christiana wept, and said, “ It is, alas I too true.” f When the Interpreter had showed them this, lie 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 Christiana 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 spider in all this spacious room ?” Then the water stood in Christiana’s eyes, for she was a woman quick of apprehension : and she said, “ 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. i Then said the Interpreter again, “ The spider them, and this should very properly lead us to weep over others, and tremble over ourselves. Reader, didst thou, like these pious pilgrims, never shed a generous tear for thy base and disingenuous conduct towards thy Lord, in preferring the sticks and straws of this world to the unsearchable riches of Christ, and the salvation of thy immortal soul? | The author did not mean by the emblem of the spider that the sinner might confidently assure him- self of salvation, by the blood of Christ, while he continued full of the poison of sin. without experien- cing and evidencing any change ; but only that no consciousness of actual guilt and inward - pollution need discourage any one from applying to Christ, and fleeing for refuge, “to lay hold on the hope set before them,” that thus the sincere soul may be delivered from condemnation, cleansed fully from pollution, and so made meet for those blessed mansions into which no unclean thing can find admission. 190 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. taketh liold with her hands, (as you see,) and is in kings’ palaces.” 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 ; hut that by this spider, this venom- ous and ill-favoured creature, we were to learn how to act faith, that came not into my thoughts. 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 ; hut the water stood in their eyes : yet they looked one upon another, and also bowed before the In- terpreter. 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 every time she drank she lifted up her head and her eyes towards heaven. “See,” said he, “what this little chick doeth, and learn of her to acknowledge whence your mercies come, by receiving them with looking up. Yet again,” said he, “ observe and look so they gave heed, and perceived that the hen did walk in a fourfold method towards her chickens: 1. She had a common call ; that she had all the day long. 2. She had a special call; and that she had hut sometimes. 3. She had a brooding note. And, 4. She had an outcry. Matt, xxiii. 37. * Our Lord hath, in immense condescension, em- ployed this emblem, to represent his tender love to sinners, for whom he hare the storm of wrath himself, that by flying to him, they might be safe and happy ui der the shadow of his wing. Matt. xiii. 37. The common call signifies the general invitations of the Gospel, which should be addressed without restriction to every creature within the sound thereof : “preach this my Gospel to every creature “as many as ye find bid to the marriage.” In proportion as sinners obey what Mr. Bunvan termed a common call, so shall, they feel what he styles a special call; when God be- stows the grace, peace, and pardon of the Gospel of Christ upon those who believe with an heart unto righteousness. The brooding note is when he gathers them under his wings, warms their hearts with the comforts of his love, nourishes their souls with clo“e fellowship with himself, and refreshes their spirits with the overflowings of joy in the Holy Ghost. “In the shadow of thy wings will I rejoice,” says David. Ps. lxii. 7. “I sat under his shadow with great de- Now, said he, compare this hen to your King, and these chickens to his obedient ones. For, answerable to her, himself has his meth- ods, which he walketli in towards his people : by his common call he gives nothing ; by his special call he always has something to give ; he has also a brooding voice for them that are under his wing ; and he has an outcry, to give the alarm when he seeth the enemy ccme. I choose, my darlings, to lead you into the room where such things are, because you are .vi.mtr, and they are easy for you.* “And, sir,” said Christiana, “pray .st us see some more.” So he had them into the slaughter-house, where was a butcher killing a sheep : and behold, the sheep was quiet, and took her death patiently. “Then,” said the Interpreter, “you must learn of this sheep to suffer, and to put up with wrongs without murmurings and complaints. Behold how quietly she tabes her death, and, without ob- jecting, she suffereth her skin to be pulled over her ears. Your King doth call you his sheep.” f After this he led them into his garden, where was great variety of flowers : and he said, “ Do you see all these?” So Christiana said, “ Yes.” Then said he again, “ Behold the flowers are 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.” J Again, he had them into his field, which he had sown with wheat and corn : hut, when they beheld, the tops of all were cut off, only light, and his fruit was sweet unto my taste.” Song ii. 3. Oh for more of these precious, brooding notes, to be gathered under the wings of our Immanuel! But be our frames and experiences what they may, still we are ever iu danger ; for our enemies surround us on every side. Therefore our Lord has an outcry ; he gives the alarm, calls upon us, and warns us of dan- ger. Why ? that we should flee to him, and run into him. For “ the name of the Lord is a strong tower : the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.” Prov. xviii. 10. j- Were we as sheep going astray? Are we now returned to thee, 0 Christ, the great Shepherd and Bishop of our souls? Lord, give us more and more of thy meek and lowly spirit! J Christ’s church is his garden ; believers are planted in it by the power of his grace, and they shall soon be transplanted into his kingdom of glory. Though there may be little non-essential differences of judgment, yet why should they fall out? Oh for more love and peace from Jesus, and then there will be more among each other. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 191 the straw remained. Ho said again, “This ground was dunged, and ploughed, and sowed; but what shall we do with the crop?” Then said Christiana, “ Burn some, and make muck of the rest.” Then said the Interpreter again, “ Fruit, you see, is that thing you look for, and for want of that you condemn it to the fire, and to be trodden under foot of men : beware that in this you condemn not yourselves.” * Then, as they were coming in from abroad, they espied a robin with a great spider in his mouth ; so the Interpreter said, “ Look here.” So they looked, and Mercy wondered ; but Christiana said, “ What a disparagement it is 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 : I like him worse than I did.” The Interpreter then replied, This robin is an emblem, very apt to set forth some pro- fessors 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 pro- fessors that are sincere; and above all other to desire to associate with them, and to be in their company; as if they could live upon the good man’s crumbs. They preteud also, that therefore it is that they frequent the house of the godly, and the appointments of the Lord: but when they are by themselves, as the robin, they can catch and gobble up spiders, they can change their diet, drink and swallow down sin like water. f So when they were come again into the house, because supper as yet was not ready, Christiana again desired that the Interpreter would either show or tell some other things that are profitable. Then the Interpreter began, and said : The fatter the sow is, the more she desires the mire; the fatter the ox is, the more game- somely he goes to the slaughter, and the more healthy the lustful man is, the more prone is he unto evil. There is a desire in women to go neat and * A preoious caution. See to it, Christian, that you avoid those things which cause deadness and unfruit- fulness, and follow thoso things which tend to quicken and make your souls fruitful in good works, to the glory of God. j- Reader, a very striking emblem this, and most pertinently applied : and if your soul is sincere, it will cause a holy fear, create a godly jealousy, put you upon self-examining, and make you sigh out in fine, and it is a comely thing to be adorn ■ d with that which in God’s sight is of great price. ’Tis easier watching a night or two, than to sit up a whole year together: so ’tis easier for one to begin to profess well, than to hold out as he should to the end. Every shipmaster, when in a storm, will willingly cast that overboard that is of the smallest value in the vessel; but who will throw the best out first? None but he that feareth not God. One leak will sink a ship ; and one sin will destroy a sinner. He that forgets his friend is ungrateful unto him : but he that forgets his Saviour is unmer- ciful to himself. He that lives in sin, and looks for happi- ness hereafter, is like him that sowetli 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 com- pany-keeper. Whispering and change of thoughts prove that sin is in the world. If this world, which God sets light by, is counted a thing of that worth with men, what is heaven, that God commendeth it? If the life that is attended with so many troubles, is so loth to be let go by us, what is the life above? Every body will cry up the goodness of men; but who is there that is, as he should be, affected with the goodness of God? We seldom 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. When the Interpreter was done, he takes them out into his garden again, and had them to a tree, whose iuside was all rotten and gone, and yet it grew and had leaves. Then said Mercy, “ What means this ?” “ This tree,” said he, “ whose outside is fair, and whose inside is roiten, is it, which may be compared to them that are in the garden of some such words as David: “Search me, 0 God, and know my heart; try me, and know my thoughts: and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Ps. cxxxix. 23, 24. Oh what will it avail in a dying hour, or in the judgment-day, that we have worn the mark of profession, and seemed to man what we were not in heart aud reality of life before God? From all self-deceiving, good Lord, de- liver us ! for wo are naturally prone to it. 192 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. God ; who with their mouths speak high in behalf of God, but in deed will do nothing for him ; whose leaves are fair, but their heart good for nothing but to be tinder for the devil’s tinder-box.” Now supper was ready, the table spread, and all things set on board; so they sat down and did eat, when one had given thanks. And the Interpreter did usually entertain those that lodged with him, with music at meals: so the minstrels played. There was also one that did sing, and a very fine voice he had. His song was this — “ The Lord is only my support, And- he that doth me feed; How can I then want any thing Whereof I stand in need?” When the song and music were ended, the Interpreter asked Christiana, What it was that at first did move her thus to betake her- self to a pilgrim’s life? Christiana answered: First, the loss of my husband came into my mind, at which I was heartily grieved; but all that was but natural affection. Then, after that, came the troubles and pilgrimage of my husband into mind, and also how like a churl I had carried it to him as to that. So guilt took hold of my mind, and would have drawn me into the pond ; but that opportunely I had a dream of the well-being of my husband, and a letter sent me by the King of that country where my husband dwells, to come to him. The dream and the letter together so wrought upon my mind, that they forced me to this way. Interpreter. But met you with no opposition before you set out of doors? Christiana. Yes, a neighbour of mine, one Mrs. Timorous, (she was kin to him that would have persuaded my husband to go back, for fear of the lions,) she also befooled me* for, as she called it, my intended desperate ad- venture ; she also urged what she could to dis- hearten me from it; the hardships and trou- bles that my husband met with in the way : * Ah, Mrs. Timorous ! flow many professed pil- grims hast thou befooled and turned bach! How often does she attack and affright many real pil- grims! Oh may we say to every incitement to self- complacency in our Lord’s words, “ Get thee behind me, Satan; thou savourest not the things that bo of God, but those that be of men.” Matt. xvi. 23. f A very simple and artless confession. The Lord works very differently upon the hearts of sinners, but always to one and the same end — namely, to cause us 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 my mind, and makes me afraid of every one that I meet, lest they should riieet me to do me a mischief, and to turn me out of my way. Yea, I may tell my Lord, though I would not have every body know it, that between this and the gate by which we got into the way, we were both so sorely assaulted, that we were made to cry out murder ; and the two that made this assault upon us were like the two that I saw in my dream. Then said the Interpreter, “ Thy beginning is good, thy latter end shall greatly increase.” So he addressed him to Mercy, and said unto her, “ And what moved thee to come hither, sweetheart ?” 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 silence, and that also that filletli me with fears of coming short at last. I can- not tell of visions and dreams, as my friend Christiana can ; nor know I what it is to mourn for my refusing of the counsel of those that were good relations.! Interpreter. What was it then, dear heart, that hath prevailed with thee to do as thou hast done? Mercy. Why, when our friend here was pack- ing up to be gone from our town, I and another went accidentally to see her. So we knocked at the door, and went in. When we were within, and seeing what she was doing, we asked her what 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 immortals, wearing a crown, playing upon a harp, eating and drinking at his Prince’s table, and singing praises to him for the bringing him thither, to prize Christ, his salvation, and his ways, and to ab- hor ourselves, the paths of sin, and to cast off all self- righteous hopes. If this is effected in thy heart, reader, no matter whether thou canst tell of visions and dreams, and talk high of experiences. Many are, and have been deceived by these things, and come to nothing. But where the soul is rooted and grounded in the knowledge of precious Christ, and love to his ways, though there may be many fears, yet this is an indubitable proof of a real and sincere pilgrim. THE PILGRIM'S PROG REES. 193 Ac. Now mcthought while she was telling these things unto us, my heart burned within me. Ami I said in my heart, If this be true, I will leave my father and my mother, and the land of my nativity, and will, if I may, go along with Christiana. So I asked her further of the truth of these things, and if she would let me go with her; for I saw now, that there was no dwelling, but with the danger of ruin, any longer in our town. But yet I came away with a heavy heart; not for that I was unwilling to come away, but for that so many of my relations were left behind. And I am come with all my heart, and will, if I may, go with Christiana to her husband and his King. Interpreter. Thy setting out is good, for tliou hast given credit to the truth ;* thou art a Ruth, who did, for the love she bare to Naomi, and to the Lord her God, leave father and mother, and the land of her nativity, to come out and go with a people that she knew not before. “The Lord recompense thy work, and a full reward be given thee of the Lord God of Israel, under whoso wings thou art come to trust.” Ruth ii. 11, 12. Now supper was ended, and preparation was made for bed ; the women were laid singly alone, and the boys by themselves. No\v when Mercy was in 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 before. So she lay blessing and praising God, who had such favour for her.f CHAPTER IV. The Pilgrims, conducted by Great-heart, proceed on their journey. In the morning they arose with the sun, and prepared themselves for their departure ; but the Interpreter would have them tarry awhile, “for (said he) you must orderly go from hence.” Then said he to the damsel that 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 they * “Thou hast given credit to the truth.” What is this but faith ; the faith of the operation of God ? But some may ask what is justifying, saving faith: noth- ing raoro 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 tho Gospel. She flod from sin, from the city of Destruc- tion, to Christ for salvation. Though she had not the jo;/ of faith, yet she followed on to know tho Lord, walking in his ways, and hoping for comfort from the Lord in his due time. Oh how are many poor pil- grims’ hearts dejected and distressed about the faith of the Gospel, by the strange, perplexing, unsoriptural definitions which have been given of it! whereas faith is the most simple thing in the world : it is the belief 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 : believing the exceeding sinful- ness of sin, the perfect purity of God’s law, his own 13 must wash and be clean, for so her Master would have the women to do that called at his house as they were going on pilgrimage. Then they went in and washed, yea, they and the boys and all ; and they came out of that bath not only sweet and clean, but also much enlivened and strengthened in their joints. So when they came in, they looked fairer a deal than when they w r ent out to the wash- ing- + When they were returned out of the garden from the bath, the Interpreter took them, and ruined state, the preciousness of Christ, the glory of his salvation, the necessity of holiness, and the hope of glory; this faith will influence the conduct, bring love into the heart, and cause the soul to persevere looking to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. 0 reader, if thou hast a grain of this precious faith in thy heart, bless Jesus for it, and go on thy way rejoicing. f 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 souls a bless- ' ing and praising our Immanuel. This prayer, “Lord, increase our faith!” is ever needful for God’s glory and our soul’s comfort. J There are no pilgrims but daily need to have re- course to this bath. What may we understand by it ? The blood of Jesus which cleanses us from all sin. 1 John i. 7. Christ is the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness. Zech. xiii. 1. Christ is the soul's only bath. The Holy Spirit, the Sanctifier, leads us to the blood of tho Lamb. The Spirit bears witness to this blood, and purifies and comforts by the applica- tion of this blood only. 194 EUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. looked upon them, and said unto them, “Fair as the moon.” Then he called for the seal wherewith they used to be sealed that were washed in his bath. So the seal was brought, and he set his mark upon them, that they might be known in the places whither they were yet to go. Now the seal was the contents and sum of the passover which the children of Israel did eat when they came out of the land of Egypt, (Ex. xiii. 8, 10;) and the mark was set be- tween their eyes. This seal greatly added to their beauty, for it was an ornament to tlieir faces ; it also added to their gravity, and made their countenances more like those of angels.* Then said the Interpreter again to the dam- sel that waited upon the women, “ Go into the vestry, and fetch out garments for these peo- ple.” So she went and fetched out white rai- ment, and laid it down before him : so he com- manded them to put it on : f 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 therefore they began to es- teem each other better than themselves : “ For you are fairer than I am,” said one ; and “ You are more comely than I am,” said another. The children also stood amazed, to see into what fashion they were brought. The Interpreter then called for a man-ser- vant of his, one Great-heart,): and bid him take a sword, and helmet, and shield ; “ And take these my daughters (said he,) conduct them to the house called Beautiful, at which place they will rest next.” So he took his weapons, and went before them ; and the In- terpreter said, “ God speed.” Those also that belonged to the family sent them away with many a good wish. So they went on their way, and sang— “ This place has been our second stage, Here we have heard and seen * This means the sealing of the Spirit. Eph. iv. 3(1. Oh this is blessed sealing! None know the comfort and joy of it but those who have experienced it. It confirms our faith, establishes our hope, and inflames our.affoctions to God the Father, for his love, to God the Son, for his gracious atonement and righteousness, and to God the Spirit for his enlightening mercy, re- generating grace, quickening, sanctifying, testifying and assuring influences, whereby we know that we are the children of God, for “ the Spirit itself beareth wit- ness with our spirits that we are the children of God.” Bom. via. 16. Therefore grieve not the Holy. Spirit. f Mind, they are commanded to put it on. Though God imparts the righteousness of his beloved Son to Those good things, that from age to age To others hid have been. The dunghill-raker, spider, hen, The chicken too, to me Have taught a lesson; let me then Conformed to it be. The butcher, garden, and the field, The robin and his bait, Also the rotten tree, do yield Me argument of weight, To move me for to watch and pray, To strive to be -sincere : To take my cross up day by day, And serve the Lord with fear.” Now I saw in my dream that thos^ went on, and Great-heart before them ; so they went and came to the place where Christian’s burden fell off his back, and tumbled into a sepulchre. Here then they made a pause. Here also they blessed God. Now, said Christiana, it comes to my mind what was said to us at that gate, to wit, that we should have pardon by word and deed ; by word, that is, by the promise ; by deed, to wit, in the way it was obtained. What the promise is, of that I know some- thing : but what it is to have pardon by deed, or in the way that it was obtained, Mr. Great- heart, I suppose you know, which, if you please, let us hear you discourse thereof. Great-heart. Pardon by the deed done, is pardon obtained by some one, for another that hath need thereof ; not by the person pardoned, but in “the way (saith another) in which I have obtained it.” So then, (to speak to the question more at large,) the pardon that you and Mercy, and these boys, have attained by another ; to wit, by him that led you in at that gate ; and he hath obtained it in this double way : he hath performed righteousness to cover you, and spilt blood to wash you in. || Christiana. But if he parts with his right- eousness to us, what will he have for himself? Great-heart. He hath more righteousness sinners, yet it is received and put on by faith. Hence it is called the righteousness of God, (2 Cor. v. 21 ;) and the righteousness of faith. Rom. x. C. j Great-heart 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 should we be for a pure ministry, and carefully improve all the blessings consequeut thereupon ! | This, this is the comfort, joy, and glorifying of a pilgrim’s heart. Hath Jesus performed righteousness to cover us, and spilt blood to wash us ? Have we faith in him? Oh how ought we to love him, glory in him, rejoice in him, and study to glorify him in every step of our pilgrimage 1 TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 1 05 than you lmvo need of, or than ho necdeth | himself. Christiana. Pray make that appear. Great-heart. With all my heart: but first I must premise, that he, of whom we are now about to speak, is one that has not his fellow. He has two natures in one person, plain to be distinguished, impossible to be divided. Unto each of these natures a righteousness belong- eth, 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 these righteous- nesses, 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 thereby. Besides these, there is a righteous- ness which this Person has, as these two na- tures are joined in one. And this is not the righteousness of the Godhead, as distinguished from the manhood ; nor the righteousness of ♦ he manhood, as distinguished from the God- head ; 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 lie parts with his first righteousness, he parts with his Godhead : if he parts with his second righteousness, he parts with the purity of his manhood: if he parts with his third, he parts with that perfection which capacitates him to the office of mediation. He has therefore another righteousness, which standeth in per- formance, or obedience to a revealed will: and that is what he puts upon sinners, and that by which their sins are covered. Wherefore he saith, “As by one man’s disobedience, many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one, shall many be made righteous.” * Bom. v. 19. Christiana. But are the other righteousnesses of no use to us? Great-heart. Yes: for though they are es- sential to his natures and office, and cannot be communicated unto another, yet it is by virtue of them. that the righteousness that justifies is for that purpose efficacious. The righteous- ness of his Godhead gives virtue, to his obedi- ence ; the righteousness of his manhood giveth * Here Mr. Bunyan gives a very clear and distinct account of that righteousness of Christ, as mediator, which he wrought out by his perfect obedience to tho law of God, for and in behalf of all believers: and which righteousness is imparted to them by God tho Father, through faith and in this righteousness : be- lievers in Christ are made perfectly righteous before capability to his obedience to justify: and the righteousness that standeth in the union of these two natures to his office giveth authority to that righteousness to do the work for which it was ordained. So then here is a righteousness that Christ, as God, has no need of ; for he is God without it: here is a righteousness that Christ, as man, has no need of to make him so, for he is perfect man without it: again, here is a right- eousness that Christ, as God-man, has no need of, for he is perfectly so without it. Here then is a righteousness that Christ, as God, and as God-man, has no need of, with reference to himself, and therefore he can spare it; a jus- tifying righteousness, that he for himself wanteth not, and therefore giveth it away. Hence it is called “the gift of righteousness.” Bom. v. 17. 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 pur Lord indeed hath two coats, .one for himself, and one to spare: wherefore he freely bestows one upon those that have none. And thus, Christiana and Mercy, and the rest of you that are here, doth your pardon come by deed or by the work of another man ? Your Lord Christ is he that worked, and hath given away what he wrought for, to the next poor beggar he meets. But again, in order to pardon by deed, there must something be paid to God as a price, as well as something prepared to cover us withal. Sin has delivered us up to the just curse of a righteous law ; now from this curse we must be justified by way of redemption, a price be- ing paid for the harms we have dope ; and this is by the blood of your Lord, who came and stood in your place and stead, and died your death for your transgressions. Thus has he ransomed you from your transgressions by blood, and covered your polluted and deformed souls with righteousness, (Rom. viii. 34; Gal. iii. 13 ;) for the sake of which, God passeth by you, and will not hurt you, when he comes to judge the world. f God. Of this righteousness, therefore, they glory, and their souls make their boast of it, saying. In the Lord Jehovah Jesus, have I righteousness. Isa. xiv. 24. f Thus we see what God hath joined together, the life and death, the atonement and righteousness of his beloved Son, for the salvation of our souls. Bo'h enter into tho essence of the faith of the Gospel. 96 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Christiana. This is brave : now I see that there was something to be learned by our being pardoned by word and deed. Good Mercy, let us labour to keep this in mind ; and, my chil- dren, do you remember it also. But, sir, was not this it that made my good Christian’s bur- den fall from off his shoulder, and that made him give three leaps for joy? Great-heart. Yes, it was the belief of this that cut off those strings that could not be cut by other means ; and it was to give him a proof of the virtue of this, that he was suf- fered to carry his burden to the cross. Christiana. I thought so ; for though my heart was lightful and joyous before, yet it is ten times more lightsome and joyous now. And I am persuaded by what I have felt, (though I have felt but little as yet,) that if the most burdened man in the world was here, and did see and believe as I now do, it would make his heart the more merry and blithe. Great-heart. There is not only one comfort, and the ease of a burden brought to us, by the sight and consideration of these, but an en- deared affection begot to us by it; for who can (if he does but once think that pardon comes not only by jiromise, but thus) but be affected with the way and means of redemption, and so with the man that hath wrought it for him?* Christiana. True: methinks it makes my heart bleed to think that he should bleed for me. Oh ! thou loving One ! Oh ! thou blessed One! Thou deservest to have me; thou hast bought me ; thou deservest to have me all ; thou hast paid for me ten thousand times more than I am' worth! No marvel that this made the water stand in my husband’s eyes, and that it made him trudge so nimbly on ; I am persuaded he wished me with him ; but, 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. * Come hither, ye sons of the sorceress, who make sport of holy raptures and heavenly ecstaey, begotten in the soul by the knowledge of redemption in the blood of Christ, the forgiveness of our sins. Laugh on till ye howl in destruction for despising salvation by the blood of the Lamb. f 0 brave Christians 1 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 the affec- tions are thus powerfully carried out, it is no uncom- mon thing to believe that all may thus come to a saving knowledge of the truth ! 2dly. Beware of thinking slightly of having the affections thus divinely inflamed. Many poor, dry, formal professors are vile wretch that I was! I let him come all alone. 0 Mercy, that thy father and mother were here! yea, and Mrs. Timorous also; nay, I wish now with all my heart that here was Madam Wanton too. Surely, surely their hearts would be affected; nor could the fear of the one, nor the powerful lusts of the other, prevail with them to go home again, and re- fuse to become good pilgrims. f Great-heart .. You speak now in the warmth of your affections: will it, think you, be always thus with you? Besides, this is not communi- cated 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 becoming his disciples, did harden their hearts against him. So that all that you have, my daughters, you have by peculiar impression, made by a divine con- templating upon what I 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 special grace. £ Now I saw still, in my dream that they went on until they were come to the place that Sim- ple, and Sloth, and Presumption, lay and slept in, when Christian went by on pilgrimage: and behold they were hanged up in irons a little way off on the other side. Then said Mercy to him that was their guide and conductor, “What are these three men? and for what are they hanged there?” Great-heart. These three men were men of bad qualities; they had no mind to be pil- grims themselves, and whomsoever they could they hindered : they were for sloth and folly themselves, and whomsoever they could per- eontent 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 influ- ences of the love of Jesus, who says, “ Ask, and you shall receive, that your joy may be full.” John xvi. 24. J Mind how tenderly Great-heart deals with Chris- tiana. 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. 2dly. By a gentle hint, suggests, that her indulgences were of a peculiar nature, be- stowed upon the faithful in Christ only. And that therefore amidst all her joyful feelings, she should know to whom she was indebted for them, and give all the glory to the God of all grace. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 197 Buade, they made wo too: and withal taught them to presume that they should do well at last. They were asleep when Christian went by, and now you go by they are hanged.* Mercy. But could they persuade any one to be of their opinion? Great-heart. 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 they. Besides, they brought up an ill report of your Lord, persuading others that he was a hard task- master. They also brought up an evil report of the good land, saying it was not half so good as some pretending it was. They also began to vilify his servants and to count the best of them meddlesome, troublesome busy-bodies : further, they would call the bread of God, husks; the comforts of his children, fancies; the travail and labour of pilgrims, things to no purpose. f Nay, said Christiana, if they were such, they should never be bewailed by me: they have but what they deserve; and I think it well that they stand so near the highway, that others may see and take warning. But had it not been well if their crimes had been d-n- graven on some pillar of iron or brass, and left here where they did their mischiefs, for a caution to other bad men? Great-heart. So it is, as you may well per- ceive, if you will go a little to the wall. Mercy. No, no; let them hang, and their names rot, and their crimes live for ever against them : 1 think it is a high favour that they are hanged before we came hither; who knows else what they might have done to such poor women as we are? Then she turned it into a song, saying— “Now then, you three, hang there, and be a sign To all that shall against the truth combine. And let him that comes after fear this end, If unto pilgrims he is not a friend. And thou, my soul, of all such men beware, That unto holiness opposers are.” CHAPTER Y. The Pilgrims ascend the hill Difficulty, pass the Lions, and arrive at the house Beautiful. Thus they went on till they came to the foot of the hill Difficulty, where 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 with the feet of some that are not de- sirous that pilgrims here should quench their thirst. Ezek. xxxiv. 18. Thereat Mercy said, * God, as it were, gibbets some professors, and causes their names and characters to be publicly ex- hibited, as a terror to others. f Let us consider the characters of these three pro- fessors — 1st. Here is Simple, who, as Solomon says, believeth every word, (Prov. xiv. 15;) a foolish, credu- lous professor, who is easily led away and beguiled by smooth words and fair pretences of others; over learn- ing, but never coming to the knowledge of the truth, so as to believe it, lovo it, and be established on it : hence liable to be carried away by every wind of doc- trine. 2d. Sloth, a quiet, easy professor, who never disturbs any one by his diligence in the word of God, nor his zeal for the truths and glory of God. Ileuce all men speak well of him ; but Christ denounces a woe against all such. Luke vi. 6. odly. Presumption, And why so envious, 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 Christian and her companions were compelled to do. They took it up, and put it into an earthen pot, and so let it stand till the dirt had gone, to the bottom, and then they drank thereof. J Next he showed them the two by-ways that were at the foot of the hill, where Formality one who presumes to find favour with God, in a way which his word does not promise, or expects salvation at the end, without the means prescribed by God for attaining it. Oh beware of these three sorts of pro- fessors, for they turn many aside. Real Christians are in danger of being seduced by them, if not of total destruction through their means. J This represents to us, that some preachers, as the prophet says, foul the water with their feet, (Ezek. xxxiv. IS:) that is, though they preach somewhat about Christ, and salvation by him, yet they so clog, mire, and pollute the stream of free grace, with pre- requisites, that a poor, thirsty soul cannot drink the water, nor allay his thirst with it: but is forced to let it stand, till these gross dregs sink to the bottom. 198 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 are they which will choose to adventure here, rather than take the pains to go up this hill. Christiana. “The way of transgressors is hard,” (Prov. xiii. 15 ;) it is a wonder that they can get into these ways without danger of breaking their necks. Great-heart They will venture; yea, if at any time any of the King’s servants do hapi^en 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; hut we will certainly do whatsoever thing goeth out of our mouths.” Jer. xliv. 16, 17. Nay, if you look a little further, you shall see that these ways are made cautionary enough, not only by these posts and ditch and chain, but also by being hedged up ; yet they will choose to go there.* Christiana. They are idle ; they love not to take pains ; uphill way is unpleasant to them. So it is fulfilled unto them as it is written, “ The way of the slothful man is an hedge of thorns.” Prov. xv. 19. Yea, they will rather choose to walk upon a snare, than to go up this hill and the rest of this way to the city.” Then they set forward, and began to go up the hill, and up the hill they went ; but before they got up to the top, Christiana began to pant, and said, I dare say this is a breathing hill; no marvel if they that love their ease more than their souls, choose to themselves a smoother way. Then said Mercy, I must sit down ; also the least of the children began to cry : Come, come, said Great-heart, sit not down here, for a little above is the Prince’s arbour. Then he took the little boy by the hand, and led him thereto. f 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 Examine, which do you like best, self-soothing or foul-searching doctrine? Formalists and hypocrites love the former, and hate the latter. But the sincere and upright are discovered by desiring to have their hearts searched to the quick, and their ways tried to the uttermost. t He who is a stranger to self-denial, knows not what this hill Difficulty meaus; for the nearer to the sweet is rest to them that labour ! Matt. xi. 28. And how good is the Prince of pilgrims, to provide such resting-places for them ! Of this arbour I have heard much ; but I never saw it before. But here let us beware of sleeping for as I have heard, it cost poor Christian dear, Then said Mr. Great-heart to the little ones, Come, my pretty boys, how do you do ? What think you now of going on pilgrimage? Sir, said the least, I was almost beat out of heart : but I thank you for lending me a hand at my need. And I remember now what my mother hath told me, namely, that the way to heaven is as a ladder, and the way to hell is as down a hill. But I had rather go up the ladder to life, than down the hill to death. Then said Mercy, But the proverb is, To go down the hill is easy : but James said, (for that was his name,) The day is coming when, in my opinion, going down the hill will be the hard- est of all. ’Tis a good boy, said his master; thou hast given her a right answer. Then Mercy smiled, but the little boy did blush . I Come, said Christiana, will you eat a bit, to sweeten your mouths, while you sit here to rest your legs? For I have here a piece of pomegranate, which Mr. Interpreter put into my hand just when I came out of his doors; he gave me also a piece of an honeycomb, and a little bottle of spirits. “ I thought he gave you something,” said Mercy, “because he called you aside.” “ Yes, so he did,” said the other. “But,” said Christiana, “it shall be still as I said it should, tvhen at first we came from home ; thou shalt be a sharer in all the good that I have, because thou so willingly didst become my companion.” Then she gave to them, and they did eat. both Mercy and the boys. And said Christiana to Mr. Great-heart, “Sir, will you do as we?” But he answered, “You are going on pilgrimage, and presently I shall return; much good may what you have do to you ! At home I eat the same every day.” Now when they had eaten and drank, and had chatted a little longer, their guide said to them, “ The day wears away ; if you think good, let us prepare to be going.” So they got up to go, and the little boys went before : but Christiana forgot to take her bottle of spirits arbour of Jesus’ rest, the more difficulties in the way; but the sweeter it is when attained. J This is right ; when we are praised, to have a con- scious blush, well knowing how much we have to bo ashamed of. Oh cry to the Lord continually against spiritual pride, and for an humble heart, knowing thyself to be a poor sinner. T1IE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 199 with her; so she sent her little boy back to fetch it. Then said Mercy, “I think this is a losing place. Hero Christian lost his roll, and hero Christiana left her bottle behind her; sir, what is the cause of this?” So their guide made answer, and said, “The cause is sleep or forgetfulness: some sleep when they should keep awake, and some forget when they should remember; and this is the very cause, why often at the resting-places some pilgrims in some things come off losers. Pil- grims should watch and remember what they have already received under their greatest en- joyments ; 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 per- suade him to go back for fear of the lions, they perceived as it were a stage, and before it, towards the road, a broad plate, with a copy of verses written thereon, and under- neath, the reason of raising up of that stage in that place rendered. The verses were — “ Let him that sees that stage take heed, Upon his heart and tongue : Lest if he do not, here he speed As some have long agone.” The words underneath the verses were — “This stage was built to punish some upon, who, through timorousness or mistrust, shall be afraid to go further on pilgrimage: also on this stage both Mistrust and Timorous were burnt through the tongue with a hot iron, for endeavouring to hinder Christian on his journey.” f 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 juniper.” Ps. cxx. 3, 4. So they went on till they came within sight of the lions. Now Mr. Great-heart was a strong man, so he was not afraid of a lion: but yet when they were come up to the place • Reader, mind this well; remember it often; and it will do thee good. f Christians, take heed to your tongues. Oh beware, beware, lost in any wise, you make a false report of the good land, through fear or mistrust! Tho Lord notes what you boldly speak for his ways, and to his glory; and ho marks your words which in any wise have a contrary tendency. The tongue is an unruly evil. J Who is this Giant Grim, who backs the lions, and where the lions were, the boys that went before were glad to cringe behind, for they were afraid of the lions; so they stept back and went behind. At this their guide smiled, and said, “How now, my boys; do you love to go before when no danger doth approach, and love to come behind so soon as the lions appear?” Now as they w'ent 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 pil- grims’ guide, “ What is the cause of your coming hither?” Now the name of that man was Grim, or Bloody-man, because of his slay- ing of pilgrims ; and he was of the race of the giants, t 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 with- stand 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 car- riage 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.” Judges v. 6, 7. Then he swore by the lions, but it should : and therefore bid them turn aside, for they should not have passage 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 ?” Great-heart. It is the King’s highway that terrifies the hearts of pilgrims, 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. Oh how does unbelief multiply dangers, and magnify difficulties, call up fear, and deject our hearts! Unbelief makes every danger wear a grim and terrible aspect. The only weapon to slay this enemy is the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Eph. vi. IT. 200 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. we are in, and in this way it is that thou hast placed the lions ; but these women and these children, though weak, shall hold on their way in spite of the lions. And with that he gave him again a downright blow, 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 women ; and yet they were glad to see him lie sprawling upon the ground. Now the lions were chained, and so of themselves could do nothing.* Where- fore, when old Grim that intended to back them, was dead, Great-heart said to the pil- grims, “ Come now, and follow me, and no hurt shall happen to you from the lions.” They therefore went on, but the women trem- bled as they passed by them; the boys also looked as if they would die, but they all got by without further hurt. Now, when they were within sight of the porter’s lodge, they soon came up unto it; but they made the more haste after this to go thither, because it is dangerous 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 that come thither as a conductor of pilgrims.) When he was come down, he opened the gate, and seeing the guide standing just before it, (for he saw not the women, for they were be- hind him,) he said unto him, How now, Mr. Great-heart, what is your business here so late at night? “I have brought,” said he, “some pilgrims hither, where, by my Lord’s com- mandment, they must lodge : I had been here some time ago, had I not been opposed by the giant that used to back the lions. But I, after a long and tedious combat with him, have cut him off, and have brought the pilgrims hither in safety.” f Porter. Will not you go in, and stay till morning ? Great-heart. No. I will return to my Lord to-night. Christiana. Oh, sir, I know not how to he * How often, after we have fought with the courage of faith and the resolution of hope, and have over- come a grim enemy, have we seen the fiercest of our enemies chained by the power of God, so as not to have the least power to hurt us! 0 pilgrim! it is sweet to reflect, that every lion-like foe is under the control of thy God, and cannot come one link of their chain nearer to thee than thy Lord will permit. 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, without 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 dangerou^ as it is. Great-heart. I am at my Lord’s command- ment : if he shall allot me to be your guide quite through, T 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 through with you, and he would have granted your re- quest. However, at present I must withdraw ; and so, good Christiana, Mercy, and .my brave children, adieu. Then the porter, Mr. Watchful, asked Chris- tiana of her country, and of her kindred : and she said, “ I came from the city of Destruction ; I am a widow woman, and my husband is dead ; his name was Christian, the pilgrim.” “ How !” said the porter, “was he your husband?” “Yes,” said she, “and these his children; and this (pointing to Mercy) is one of my towns- women.” 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 Humbl e-mind. And to her the porter said, “ Go tell it. within, that Christiana, the wife of Christian, and her children, are come hither on pilgrimage.” She went in, therefore, and told it. But oh, what noise for gladness was therein when the damsel did but drop that out of her mouth ! So they came with haste to the poiter, for Christiana stood still at the door. Then some of the most grave said unto her, “ Come in, Christiana, come in, thou wife of that good man ; come in, thou blessed woman, come in, with all that are with thee.” So she went in, and they followed her that were her children j" How mindful is our Lord of us! How gracious is be to us! What blessed provisions doth he make for us! If pilgrims are attacked by' Giant Grim, and ter- rified with the sight of lions, they may be sure that it is only a prelude to some sweet enjoyment of the Lord’s love, and that they are near to some sweet asy lum, some sanctuary of rest, peace, aud comfort. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 201 ami 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 chief of the house were called to see and wel- come the guests. Then they came in, and, understanding who they were, did salute eaeli other with a kiss, and said “ Welcome, ye ves- sels of the grace of God, welcome unto us who are your faithful friends.” * Now, because it was somewhat late, and because the pilgrims were weary with their journey, and also made faint with the sight of the light and the terrible lions, they desired, as soon as might be, to prepare to go to rest. “Nay,” said those of the family, “refresh yourselves with a morsel of meat:” for they had prepared for them a lamb, with the ac- customed sauce thereto. f Ex. xii. 6: For the porter had heard before of their coming, and had told it to them within. So when they had supped, and ended their prayer with a psalm, they desired they might go to rest. “ But let us,” said Christiana, “ if we may be so bold as to choose, be in that chamber that was my husband’s when he was here.” So they had them up thither, anil they all lay in a room. John i. 29. When they were at rest, Christiana and Mercy entered into discourse about things that were convenient. Christiana. Little did I think once, when my husband went on pilgrimage, that I should ever have followed him. Mercy. And you os little thought of lying- in his bed and in his chamber to rest, as you do now 4 Christiana. And much less did I ever think of seeing his face with comfort, and of wor- shipping the Lord the King with him; and yet now 1 believe I shall. Mercy. Hark! don’t you hear a noise? Christiana. Yes, ’tis, as I believe, the noise of music, for joy that we are here. * Here is a blessed mark of being vessels of the grace of God, when we delight in the sight of, salute, and welcome others in the way to Zion, and mutually have our hearts and affections drawn out to each other in love. Oh how sweet is the fellowship of pilgrims below! what must it be above ! Infinitely above con- ception. Lord, fire our souls with the thought of ever being with thee and each other in thy 'kingdom. f 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, Ilis flesh is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed? Is it thy delight to tkiuk of him, hear of him, speak of him, abide in Mercy. Wonderful ! Music in the house, music in the heart, and music also in heaven, for joy that we tire here ! || Thus they talked awhile, and then betook themselves to sleep. So hi the morning when they were awaked, Christiana said to Mercy, “ What was the matter that you did laugh in your sleep to-night? I suppose you were in a dream.” Mercy. So I was, and a sweet dream it was ; but are you sure I laughed? Christiana. Yes, you laughed heartily; but pr’ythce* Mercy, tell me thy dream. Mercy. I was a-dreaming that 1 sat all alone in a solitary place, and was 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 bemoaning the hardness of my heart. At this, some of them laughed at me, some called me fool, and some began to thrust me about. With that, methought I looked up, and saw one coming with wings towards me. So he came directly to me, and said, “Mercy, what aileth thee?” Now when he had heard me make my complaint, he said, “Peace be to thee:” he also wiped mine eyes with his handkerchief, and clad me in silver and gold. He put a chain upon my neck, and ear-rings in mine ears, and a beautiful crown upon my head. Ezek. xvi. 8, 13. Then he took me by the hand, and said, “Mercy, come after me.” So Ire went up, and I followed till we came at a golden gate. Then he knocked : and when they within had opened the man went in, and I followed him up to a throne upon which One sat, and he said to me, “ Welcome, daughter.” The place looked bright and twinkling, like the stars, or rather like the sun, and I thought that I saw your husband there. So I awoke from my dream. But did I laugh ? \ him, and live upon him ? Oh bless him, 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. Oh for more rcclinings of soul upon the precious bosom of our dear Lord ! IV c can be truly happy nowhere else. || Oh 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 glory to God in the highest the universal chorus. It is the wonder and joy of sinners on earth, and of angels in heaven. 'i Pray observe this dream : it is a most precious one indeed. We find it true in the broad day of sweet 202 JB UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Christiana. Laugli ! ay, and well you might to see yourself so well. For you must give me leave to tell you, that it was a good dream ; and that as you have begun to find the first part true, so you shall find the second at last. “God speaks once, yea, twice, yet man per- ceiveth it not; in a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumbering upon the bed.” Job xxxiii. 14-16. We need not, when abed, to lie awake to talk with God; he can visit us while we sleep, and cause us then to hear his voice. Our heart oftrzzn.es wakes when we sleep ; and .God can speak to that, either by words, by proverbs, by signs and similitudes, as well as if one was awake.* * Mercy. Well, I am glad of my dream, for I hope, ere long, to see it fulfilled, to the making of me laugh again. Christiana. I think it is now high time to rise, and to know what we must do. Mercy. Pray, if they advise us to stay awhile, let us willingly accept of the proffer. I am the willinger to stay awhile here, to grow bet- ter acquainted with these maids; methinks, Prudence, Piety, and Charity have very comely and sober countenances. Christiana. We shall see what they will do. So when they were up and ready, they came down, and they asked one another of their rest, and if it was comfortable or not. Very good, said Mercy; it was one of the best night’s lodgings that ever I had in my life. Then said Prudence and Piety, If you will be persuaded to stay here awhile, you shall have what the house will afford. Ay, and that with a very good will, said Charity. So they consented, and stayed there about a month or above, and became very profitable one to another. And because Pru- dence would see how Christiana had brought up her children, she asked leave of her to cat- echise them ; so she gave her free consent. Then she began with the youngest, whose name was James. And she said, “Come, James, canst thou tell me who made thee?” James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. experience; for then it is we get the most blessed vis- its from our Lord, when wo get by ourselves and be- moan the deadness of our poor hearts. True, we may be laughed at, called fools, and despised by the pro- fane and self-righteous, who do not feel the hardness of their hearts, nor bemoa- themselves for it; yet the loving, compassionate, tender-hearted Saviour is ever near to us, he feels for us, sympathizes with us, will Prudence. Good boy. And canst thou tell who saved thee? James. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Ghost. Prudence. Good boy still. But how doth God the Father save thee? James. By his grace. Prudence. How doth God the Son save thee? James. By his righteousness, and blood, and death, and life. Prudence. And how doth God the Holy Ghost save thee ? James. By his illumination, by his renova- tion, and by his preservation. Then said Prudence to Christiana, You are to be commended for tbps bringing up your children. I suppose I need not ask the rest these questions, since the youngest of them can answer them so well. I will therefore now apply myself to the next youngest. Then she said, Come, Joseph, (for his name was Joseph,) will you let me catechise you? Joseph. With all my heart. Prudence. What is man ? Joseph. A reasonable creature, made so by God, as my brother said. Prudence. What is supposed by this word — saved ? Joseph. That man by sin has brought him- self into a state of captivity and misery. Prudence. What is supposed by his being saved by the Trinity? Joseph. That sin is so great and mighty a tyrant, that none can pull us out of its clutches but God : and that God is so good and loving to man, as to pull him indeed out of this miserable state. Prudence. What is God’s design in saving poor man? Joseph. The glorifying of his name, of his grace, and justice, etc., and the everlasting happiness of his creature. Prudence. Who are they that must be saved? Joseph. Those that accept of his salvation. Prudence. Good boy, Joseph ; thy mother hath taught thee well, and thoit hast hearkened to what she has said unto thee. Then said Prudence to Samuel, (who was manifest himself to us, and revive us with the sense of peace, the joy of hope, and the comforts of love. * Oh how blessed are they who are watching and waiting continually to hear the small still voice of the Spirit speaking rest and peace to their souls by the blood of the Lamb! Oh how condescending is out Lord, thus to visit us, and converse with us in the way to his kingdom ! THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 203 tlio oldest son but one,) Come, Samuel, are you willing that I should catechise you also? Samuel. Yes, forsooth, if you please. Prudence. Wluvt is heaven? Samuel. A place and state most blessed, be- cause God dwelleth there. Prudence. What is hell? Samuel. A place and state most woeful, be- cause .it is the dwelling-place of sin, the devil, and death. Prudence. Why wouldst thou go to heaven ? Samuel. That I may see God, and serve him without weariness; that I may see Christ, ami love him everlastingly; that I may have that fulness of the Holy Spirit in me that I can by no means here enjoy. Prudence. A very good boy, and one that has learned well. Then she addressed herself to the eldest, whose name was Matthew ; and she said to him, Come, Matthew, shall I also catechise you? Matthew. With a very good will. Prudence. I ask then, if there was ever any- thing that had a being antecedent to or before God? Matthew. No; for God is eternal; nor is there anything, excepting himself, that had a being until the beginning of the first day : “ For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is.” Prudence. What do you think of the Bible ? Matthew. It is the holy word of God. Prudence. Is there nothing written there but what you understand? Matthew. Yes, a great deal. Prudence. What do you do when you meet with places therein that you do not under stand ? Matthew. I think God is wiser than I. 1 pray also that he will please to let me know all therein that lie knows will be for my good.* Prudence. How believe you as touching the resurrection of the dead? Matthew. I believe they shall rise, the same that was buried; the same in nature, though not in corruption. And I believe this upon a double account: First, because God has prom- ised it; secondly, because he is able to per- form it.f Then said Prudence to the boys, Y T ou must still hearken to your mother, for she can learn you more. You must also diligently give ear to what good talk you shall hear from others: for your sake do they speak good things. Ob- serve also, and that with carefulness, what the heavens and the earth do teach you: but es- pecially be much in the meditation of that book that was the cause of your father’s be- coming a pilgrim. I, for my part, my chil- dren, will teach you what I can while you are here, and shall be glad if you will ask me questions that tend to godly edifying. CHAPTER VI. Mr. Brisk pays liis addresses to Mercy. — Matthew taken ill, but recovers, &c. Now. by that these pilgrims had been at this place a week, Mercy had a visitor that pre- tended some good-will unto her, and his name was Mr, Brisk, a man of some breeding, and that pretended to religion : but a man that stuck very close to the world. So he came once or twice, or more, to Mercy, and offered love unto her. Now Mercy was of a fair countenance, and therefore the more alluring. Her mind also was, to be always busying of herself in doing; for when she had nothing to do for herself, she would be making of hose and gar- ® Though this is answered with the simplicity of a child, yet it is, and ever will be, the language of every father in Christ. Happy those whose spirits are cast into this humble, blessed mould! Oh that this spirit may accompany us in all our researches, in all our ways, and through all our days ! inents 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 housewife,” quoth he to himself. Mercy then revealed the business to the maidens that were of the house, and inquired of them concerning him ; for they did know him better than she. So they told her, that he was a very busy young man, and one that pretended to religion ; but was, as they feared, f Hero is the foundation of faith and the triumph of hope, God's faithfulness to his promise, and his power to pierform. Having these to look to, what should stagger our faith or deject our hope ? We may, wo ought to smile at all carnal objections, and trample upon all corrupit reasonings. 204 13 UJS’ Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. a stranger to the power of that which is good. Nay then, said Mercy, I will look no more on him ; for I purpose never to have a clog to my soul.* Prudence then replied, that there needed no great matter of discouragement to be given to him ; for continuing so as she had begun, to do for the poor, would quickly cool his courage. So the next time he comes, be 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 earn 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.” 1 Tim. vi. 17, 19. “Why, pr’ythee, what dost thou do with them ?” said he. “ Clothe the naked,” said she. With that his countenance fell. So he forbore to come at her again. And when he was asked the reason why, he said that Mercy was a pretty lass, but troubled with ill conditions.! When he had left her, Prudence said, Did I not tell thee that Mr. Brisk would soon forsake thee? yea, he will raise up an ill report of thee: for, notwithstanding his pretence to re- ligion, and his seeming love to mercy, yet mercy and he are of tempers so different, that I believe they will never come together. Mercy. I might have had husbands before now, though I spoke not of it to any; but they were such as did not like my conditions, though never did any of them find fault with my person. So they and I could not agree. Prudence. Mercy in our days is but little set by, any further than as to its name ; the prac- tice which is set forth by thy conditions there are but few that can abide. Well, said Mercy, if nobody will have me, I will die a maid, or my conditions shall be to * Most blessed resolution! Ah, pilgrims, if you were more wary, how many troubles would you escape, and how much more happy would you be, in your pil- grimage! It is for want of this wisdom that many bring evil upon themselves. f How easily are the best of characters traduced, and false constructions put upon the best of actions! Reader, is this your lot also? Mind your duty. Look to your Lord. Persevere in his works and ways : and leave your character with Him to whom you can trust your soul. For if God be for us, who shall be against us ? What shall harm us, if we be followers of that which is good? ± Though we are to beware of a censorious spirit in regard to professors, yet when they give evidence by me as a liusband, for I cannot change my na- ture ; and to have one that lies cross to me in this, that I purpose never to admit of as long as I live. I had a sister, named Bountiful, that was married to one of these churls, but he and she could never agree; but because my sister was resolved to do as she had begun — that is, to show kindness to the poor — there- fore her husband first cried her down at the cross, and then turned her out of his doors. Prudence. And yet he was a professor, I warrant you ! Mercy. Yes, such a one as he was, and of such as the world is now full ; but I am for none of them all. J Now Matthew, the eldest son of Christiana, fell sick, and his sickness was sore upon him, for he was much pained in his bowels, so that he was with it, at times, pulled, as it were, both ends together. || There dwelt also not far from thence one Mr. Skill, an ancient and well-approved physician. So Christiana de- sired it, and they sent for him, and he came : when he was entered the room, and had a little observed the boy, he concluded that he was sick of the gripes. Then he said to his mother, “ What diet has Matthew of late fed upon ?” “Diet!” said Christiana, “nothing but what is wholesome.” The physician answered, “ This boy has been tampering with something that lies in'his maw undigested, and that will not away without means. And I tell you he must be purged, or else he will die.” Then said Samuel, Mother, what was that which my brother did gather up and eat so soon as we were come from the gate that is at the head of this way? You know that there' was an orchard on the left hand, on the other side of the wall, and some of the trees hung over the wall, and my brother did pluck and eat.? True, my child, said Christiana, he did take thereof and did eat, naughty boy as he - was. I chid him, and yet he would eat thereof. their walk that they are not what they profess to be, holy followers of the Lamb, we are by no means to be deceived by them. For we have an unerring rule laid down by our Lord to judge of them, “Ye shall know them by their fruits,” (Matt. vii. 16;) yea, and we ought to be faithful to them too, by reproving them in the spirit of humility and love. || See the effects of sin. It will pinch and gripe the conscience and make the heart sick. ? Observe how useful pilgrims are to each other in faithfully reminding them of their conduct. Though this sin was committed some time past, and neither Matthew nor his mother thought of it, yet it must be brought to light and repented of. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 205 Ski//. I knew lie had eaten something that was not wholesome food ; and that food, to wit, that fruit, is even the most hurtful of all. It is the fruit of Beelzebub’s orchard. I do mar- vel that none did warn you of it; many have died thereof.* Then Christiana began to cry; and she said, “ 0 naughty boy ! and 0 careless mother ! what shall I do for my son?” Sliff. Come, do not be too much dejected; the boy may do well again, but he must purge and vomit. Christiana. Trav, sir, try the utmost of your skill with him, whatever it costs. Skill. Nay, I hope I shall be reasonable. So lie made him a purge, but it was too weak ; it was said it was made of the blood of a goat, the ashes of a heifer, and with some of the juice of hyssop, &c. Ileb. ix. 13, 19; x. 1, 4. When Mr. Skill had seen that that purge was too weak, he made him one to the purpose : it was made ex came et sanguine Christi, f (John vi. 54, 57; Ileb. ix. 14;) you know physicians give strange medicines to their patients : and it was made up into pills, with a promise or two, and a proportionable quantity of salt. Mark ix. 49. Now he was to take them three at a time, fasting, in half a quarter of a pint of the tears of repentance. Zech. xii. 10. When this potion was prepared and brought to the boy, he was loth to take it, though torn with the gripes as if he should be pulled in pieces. “Come, come,” said the physician, “you must take it.” “ It goes against my stomach,” said the boy. “ I must have you take it,” said his mother. “ I shall vomit it up again,” said the boy. “ Pray, sir,” said Christiana to Mr. Skill, “how does it taste?” “It has no ill taste,” says 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 * Hero is conviction for the mother in not warning of sin and chiding for it. She takes it home, falls under the sense of it, and is grieved for it. A tender conscience is a blessed sign of a gracious heart. Ye parents who know the love of Christ, watch over your children ; see to it lest ye smart for their sins in not warning and teaching them that the fear of the Lord is to depart from all evil ; yea, to abstain from the very appearance of it. f Mr. Banyan's great modesty and humility aro truly admirable ; though he quotes Latin, yet, as he did not understand it, he tells us in the margin, “The Latin I borrow.” The English is, “ Of the flesh and of the blood of Christ.” This is the only potion for sin-sick souls. Feeding upon Christ's flesh and blood by faith keeps us from sinning, anJ when sick of sin than honey. If thou lovest thy mother, if thou lovest thy brothers, if thou lovest Mercy, if thou lovest thy life, take it.” So with much ado, after a short prayer for the blessing of God upon it, he took it, and it wrought kindly with him. It caused him to purge, it caused him to sleep, and to rest quietly; it put him into a fine heat and breathing sweat, and it quite rid him of his gripes.J So in a little time he got up and walked about with a staff, and would go from room to room and talk with Prudence, Piety, and Cha- rity of his distemper, and how he was healed. So, when the boy was healed, Christiana asked Mr. Skill, saying, “Sir, what will con- tent you for your pains and care to and of my child?” And he said, “You must pay the Master of the College of Physicians according to rules made in that case and provided.” Hcb. xiii. 11-15. But, sir, said she, what 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 well prepared will keep good time out of mind. Christiana. Pray, sir, make me up twel re boxes of them; for if I can get these I will never take other physic. Skill. These pills are good to prevent dis- eases, as well as to cure when one is sick. || Yea, I dare say it, and stand to it, that if a man will but use this physic as he should, it will make him live for ever. John vi. 58. But, good Christiana, thou must give these pills no other way but as I have prescribed ; for if you do they will do no good. So he gave unto Christiana physic for herself and her boys, and for Mercy, and bid Matthew take lieed how he ate any more green plums, and kissed him and went his way. these, and nothing but these, can heal and restore us. Y T et there is in our nature an unaccountable reluctance to receive these through the unbelief which works iu us. So Matthew found it. J See the blessed effects of receiving Christ when under the sense of sin and distress for sin. Oh what a precious Saviour is Jesus! what efficacy is there in his blessed flesh and precious blood to purge the con- science from guilt ! It is this sense of Christ's love and grace which heals, restores, and makes our hearts happy and joyful in God. II 9 pilgrims ! let not a day pass without having re- course to the life and death of the Son of God, and live by faith upon Him who shed his blood to save us, and gives his flesh to nourish us, and who says, “ My flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed.” 206 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. It was told you before that Prudence bid the boys that if at any time they would they should ask her some questions that might be profitable, and she would say something to them. Then Matthew, who had been sick, asked her, Why, for the most part, physic should be bitter to our palates ? Prudence. To show how unwelcome the word of God, and the effects thereof, are to a carnal heart. Matthew. Why does physic, if it does good, purge and cause to vomit? Prudence. To show that the word, when it works effectually, cleansetli the heart and mind. For look, what the one doth to the body the other doth to the soul. Matthew. What should we learn by seeing the flame of our fire go upwards, and by see- ing the beams and sweet influences of the sun strike downwards? Prudence. By the going up of the fire we are taught to ascend to heaven by fervent and hot desires. And by the sun sending his heat, beams, and sweet influences downwards we are taught that the Saviour of the world, though high, reaches down with his grace and love to us below. Matthew. Whence have the clouds their water ? Prudence. Out of the sea. Matthew. What may we learn from that? Prudence. That ministers should fetch their doctrine from God. Matthew. Why do they empty themselves upon the earth? Prudence. To show that ministers should give out what they know of God to the world. Matthew. Why is the rainbow caused by the sun ? Prudence. To show that the covenant of God’s grace is confirmed to us in Christ. Matthew. Why do the springs come from the sea to us through the earth? Prudence. To show that the grace of God comes to us through the body of Christ. Matthew. Why do some of the springs rise out of the top of high hills? Prudence. To show that the spirit of grace shall spring up in some that are great and mighty, as well as in many that are poor and low. Matthew. Why doth the fire fasten upon the candlewick? Prudence. To show that unless grace doth kindle upon the heart there will be no true light of life in us. Matthew. Why is the wick, and tallow, and all spent to maintain the light of the can- dle? Prudence. To show that body, and soul, and all should be at the service of, and spend them- selves to maintain in good condition, that grace of God that is in us.. Matthew. Why doth the pelican pierce her own breast with her bill? Prudence. To nourish her young ones with her blood, and thereby to show that Christ the blessed so loved his young, his people, as to save them from death by his blood. Matthew. What may one learn by hearing the cock to crow? Prudence. Learn to remember Peter’s sin and Peter’s repentance. The cock’s crowing shows also that day is coming on ; let then the crowing of the cock put thee in mind of that last and terrible day of judgment. Now about this time their month was out, wherefore they signified to those of the house that it was convenient for them to up and be going. Then said Joseph to his mother, “It is proper that you forget not to send to the house of Mr. Interpreter, to pray him to grant that Mr. Great-heart should be sent unto us, that he may be our conductor for the rest of the way.” “Good boy!” said she, “I had al- most forgot.” So she drew up a petition, and prayed Mr. Watchful, the porter, to send it by some fit man to her good friend Mr. Interpre- ter; who, when it was come and he had seen the contents of the petition, said to the mes- senger, “ Go tell them that I will send him.” When the family where Christiana was saw that they had a purpose to go forward, they called the whole house together to give thanks to their King for sending of them such profit- able guests as these. Which done, they said unto Christiana, “ And shall we not show thee something, as our custom is to do to pilgrims, on which thou mayest meditate when thou art on the way?” So they took Christiana, her children, and Mercy into the closet and showed them one of the apples that Eve ate of, and that she also did give to her husband, and that for the eating of which they were both turned out of Paradise, and asked her what she thought that was. Then Christiana said, “ It is food or poison, I know not which.” So they opened the matter to her, and she held THE riLC, RIM'S rnOORESS. 207 lip her hands and wondered.* Gen. iii. 1, G; Itom. vii. 24. Then they had her to a place and showed her Jacob's ladder. Now at that time there were some angels ascending upon it. So Christiana looked and looked, to see the angels go up; so did the rest of the company. Gen. xxviii. 12. Then they were going into an- other place to show them something else; but James said to his mother, “Pray bid them stay here a little longer, for this is a curious sight.’’ So they turned again, and stood feed- ing their eyes with this so pleasant a prospect. After this they had them into a place where did hang up a golden anchor; so they bid Christiana take it down ; for, said they, you shall have it with you, for it is of absolute necessity that you should, that you may lay hold of that within the veil and stand stead- fast in case you should meet with turbulent weather: so they were glad thereof.f Joel iii. 1(> ; Heb. vi. 19. Then they took them, and had them to the mount upon which Abraham, our father, offered up Isaac his son, and showed them the altar, the wood, the fire, and the knife; for they remain to be seen to this very day. When they had seen it they held up their hands and blessed themselves, and said, “ Oh what a man for love to his Master and for denial to himself was Abraham !’’ After they had showed them all these things, Pru- dence took them into a dining-room, where stood a pair of excellent virginals; so she played upon them, and turned what she had showed them into this excellent song, saying — “ Eve’s apple we have showed you ; Of that be you aware; You have seen Jacob’s ladder too, Upon which angels arc: An anchor you received have; But let not these suffice, Until with Abra'm you have gavo Your best for sacrifice.” Now r about this time one knocked at the * It is not enough that the Holy Spirit convinces us of sin previous to our first setting out on pilgrimage, and makes us sensible of our want of Christ, but he also koeps up a sight and a sense of the evil of sin in Its original nature, as well as our 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 the soul safe and steady to Jesus, who is the only 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 graoe. Faith re- ceives them, trusts in them, relies upon them, and door: so the porter opened, and behold, Mr. Great-heart was there. Put when he was come in, what joy was there ! for it came now afresh again into their minds how but a while ago he had slain old Grim Bloody-man, the giant, and had delivered them from the lions. Then said Mr. Great-heart to Christiana and to Mercy, My Lord has sent each orf you a bottle of wine, and also some parched corn, together with a couple of pomegranates; he has also sent the boys some figs and raisins ; to refresh you in your way 4 Then they addressed themselves to their journey, and Prudence and Piety went along with them. When they came at the gate, Christiana asked the porter if any of late went by. He said, No, only one, some time since, who also told me that of late there had been a great robbery committed on the King’s highway as you go ; but, said he, the thieves are taken, and will shortly be tried for their lives. Then Christiana and Mercy were afraid, but Matthew said, Mother, fear nothing as long as Mr. Great-heart is to go with us aud to be our conductor. Then said Christiana to the porter, Sir, I am much obliged to you for all the kindnesses that you have showed to me since I came hither; and also for that you have been so loving and kind to my children ; I know not how to gratify your kindness: wherefore pray, as a token of my 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.” Aud to the boys he said, “ Do you fly youthful lusts, and follow after godliness with them that are grave and wise; so shall you put gladness into your mother’s heart, and obtain praise of all that are sober-minded.” So they thanked the porter and departed. Hope waits for the full accomplishment and enjoy- ment of them. J Oh how reviving and refreshing are those love- tokens from our Lord! Great-heart never comes empty-handed. He always inspires with courage and confidence. || No wonder that the pilgrims were thankful for their kind entertainment, or that they testified their esteem of the Gospel and its glorious Author by the present they made to the porter; for says St. Paul, in behalf of the ministers of the word, “ If we have sowu unto you spiritual things, is it a great thing if wo shall reap your carnal things ?” 208 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. CHAPTER, VII. The Pilgrims pursue their journey, and pass Shadow Now I saw in my dream that they went for- ward until they were come to the brow of the hill, where Piety, bethinking herself, cried out, Alas ! I have forgot what I intended to bestow upon Christiana and her compan- ions : I will go back and fetch it. So she ran and fetched it. While she was gone, Christiana thought she heard in a grove, a little way off, on the right, a most curious melodious note, with words much like these: “ Through all my life thy favour is So frankly show’d to me That in thy house for evermore My dwelling-place shall be.” And listening still she thought she heard another answer it, saying, “For why? The Lord our God is good, His mercy is forever sure : His truth at all times firmly stood, And shall from age to age endure.” So Christian 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 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 we are melan- choly ; also they make the woods, and groves, and solitary places, places desirous to be in.* Bol. Bong ii. 11, 1 2. 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 tho.u hast * You see these joyful notes spring from a sense of nearness to the Lord and a firm confidence in his di- vine truth and everlasting mercy. Oh when the Sun of 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 approach very nearly to the heavenly music in the realms of glory. f 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 through the Valley of Humiliation and cf the f Death. seen at our house, upon which thou mayest look when thou findest thyself forgetful, and call those things again to remembrance for thy edification and comfort. Now they began to go down the hill 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, t Piety said to Christiana, This is the place where your hus- band met 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 unless we procure it ourselves. It is true Christian did meet here with Apollyon, with whom he had also a s'ore combat; but that fray was the fruit of those slips that he got in going down the hill, for they that get slips there must look for combats here. And hence it is that this valley has got so hard a name. For the common people, when they hear that some frightful thing has befallen such an one in such a place, are of opinion that that place is haunted with some foul fiend or evil spirit; when, alas! it is for the fruit of their doing that such things do befall them there. J This Valley of Humiliation is of itself as fruitful a place as any the crow flies over; and I am persuaded, if we could hit upon it, we might find somewhere hereabout something deep and abiding sight and sense of ourselves, of our ruined state, lost condition, and desperate circum- stances as fallen sinners. I What a great blessing it is to have Great-heart in the Valley of Humility! How sad it is for pilgrims to procure evils for themselves by their sin and folly ! How joyful is it to know that “like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth thorn who fear him !” Ps. ciii. 13. Yet if we slip we shall be sure to smart. If we do not hold fast faith, hope, love, and obedience, Satan will attack, distress us in some sort, and prevail against us, and then we shall bring up an evil report of the safe and fruitful Valley of Humiliation. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 209 that might give us an account why Christian was so hardly besot in this place. Then James said to his mother, “Lo, yon- der stands a pillar, and it looks as if something was written thereon ; let us go and see what it is.” So they went and found there written, “ Le.t 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 I not tell you that there was something hereabouts that would give in- timation of the reason why Christian was so hard beset in this place?” Then, turning to Christiana, lie said, No disparagement to Chris- tian, more than to many others whose hap and lot it was. For it is easier going up than down this hill, and that can be said but of few hills in all these parts of the world. But we will leave the good man : he is at rest ; he also had a brave victory over his enemy: let Him that dwelleth above grant that we fare no worse when we come to be tried than he ! But we will come again to this Valley of Hu- miliation. It is the best and most fruitful piece of ground in all these parts. It is a fat ground, and, as you see, consisteth much in meadows; and if a man was to come here in the summer- time, as we do now, if he knew not any thing before thereof, and if he also delighted himself in the sight of liis eyes, he might see that which would be delightful to him. Behold how green this valley is, also how beautiful with lilies. Sol. Song ii. 1; James iv. 6; 1 Pet. v. 5. I have also known many labouring men that have got good estates in this Valley of Hu- miliation, (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 father’s sheep. The boy was in very mean clothes, but of a • * Though this Valley of Humiliation may be very terrifying to pilgrims after they have been favoured with peace and joy, and comforted by the views of faith and hope, yet it is a very safe place ; and though at first entering into it, and seeing more of themselves than was ever before showed them, they may fear and tremble, 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 hu- mility they behold the heights of his love and the depths of his mercy, and cry out, Though I am emptied 14 fresh and well-favoured countenance ; and as he sat by himself he sang. Hark, said Mr. Great- heart, to what the shepherd’s boy saith. So they hearkened, and he said — “ lie that is down needs fear no fall; He that is low, no pride ; He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. “ I am content with what I have, Little be it or much : And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because thou savest such. “Fulness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage: Here little, and hereafter bliss, Is best from age to age.”} Then said the guide, Do you hear him ? I will dare to say this boy lives a merrier life, and wears more of the herb called heart’s ease in his bosom, than he that is clad in silk and vel- vet. But we will proceed in our discourse. In this valley our Lord formerly had his country-house ; he loved much to be here : he . loved also to walk 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 Valley of Hu- miliation 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 Apol- lyon and to enter with him a brisk encounter, yet I must tell you that in former times men have met with angels here, have found pearls here, and have in this place found the words of life.} Hos. ii. 4, 5. Did I say our Lord had here in former days his country-house, and that he loved here to walk? I will add in this place, that to the people that love and trace these grounds he has left a yearly revenue, to be faithfully paid them of all, yet I have an inexhaustible fulness in Jesus, to supply me with all I want and all I hope, f Heb. xiii. 5. } Ever remember the word of our gracious Lord, “ It is enough for the disciple that he be as his Master.” If your Lord made it his chief delight to be in this Valley of Humiliation, learn from his example to prize this valley. Though you may meet with an Apollyon or a destroyer here, yet you are safe in the arms and under the power of your all-conquering Lord; for though the Lord is high, yet hath he respect unto the lowly. 210 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. at certain seasons for tlieir 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 this valley my father and Apollyon had their battle, but whereabout was the fight? for I perceive this valley is large.” Great-heart. Your father had the battle with Apollyon at a place yonder before us, in a nar- row passage, just beyond Forgetful Green. And indeed that place is the most dangerous place in all these parts, for if at any time pil- grims meet with any brunt, it is when they forget what favours they have received and how unworthy they are of them.* This is the place also where others have been hard put to it. But more of this place when we are come to it ; for I persuade myself that to this day there remains either some sign of the battle, or some monument to testify that such a battle was there fought. Then said Mercy, I think I am as well in this valley as I have been anywhere else in all our journey: the place, methinks, suits with my spirit. I love to be in such places where there is no rattling with coaches, nor rumbling with wheels; methinks, here one may, with- out much molestation, be thinking what he is, whence he came, what lie, has done; and to what the King has called him : here one may think, and break at heart and melt in one’s spirit, until one’s eyes become as “the fish- pools of Heshbon.” They that go rightly through this “valley of Bacca” 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, (Song Sol. vii. 4; Psalm lxxxiv. 6; Hos. ii. 15;) and they that go through it shall sing as Christian did, for all he met with Apollyon. It is true, said their guide, I h ave gone th rough 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 sain ?; “ To this man will I look, (saith the King,) even to him that is poor and of a * 0 pilgrims, attend to this. Pride and ingratitude go hand in hand. Study, ever study, the favours of your Lord, how freely they are bestowed upon you, and how utterly unworthy you are of the least of them. Beware of Forgetful Green. f If Satan be driven back from one attack, prepare for another. Bless God for your armour. Never put it off. contrite spirit, and that trembleth at my word.” Now they were come to the place where the aforementioned battle was fought. Then said the guide to Christiana, her children, and Mercy, This is the place : on this ground Chris- tian stood, and up there came Apollyon against him: and look (did not I tell you?) here is some of your husband’s blood upon these stones to this day : behold, also, how here and there are yet to be. seen upon the place some of the shivers of Apollyon’s broken 'darts : see also how they did beat the ground with feet as they fought, to make good their places against each other ; how also, with their by-blows, they did split the very stones in pieces; verily Christian did here play the man, and showed himself as stout as Hercules could, had he been there, even he himself. When Apollyon was beat, he made his retreat to the next valley, that is called the Valley of the Shadow of Death, unto which we shall come anon.f Lo, yonder also stands a monument, on which is engraven this battle and Christian’s victory, to his fame throughout all ages. So because it stood just on the wayside be- fore them, they stepped to it and read the writing, which word for word was this : “ Hard by here was a battle fought, Most strange and yet most true; Christian and Apollyon sought Each other to subdue. The man so bravely play'd the man He made the fiend to fly; Of which a monument I stand, The same to testify !” J When they had passed by this place they came upon the borders of the Shadow of Death, and this valley was longer than the other — a place also most strongly haunted with evil things, as many are abl^ to testify ; but these women and children went the better through it because they had daylight, and be- cause 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 lam- entation, spoken as of some in extreme torment. These things made the boys to quake, the J Monuments of victory over Satan are to God's glory, and are very animating and encouraging to those who come after. Proclaim, 0 Christians, your mercies with thankfulness, and your victories with shouts of humility, to the honour of the Captain of our salvation. TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 211 women also looked pale and wan, but their guide bid them be of good comfort. So they went on a little farther, 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 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 prepared, and the boy began to revive. Thus they went on till they came to about the middle of the val- ley, and then Christiana said, “ ifethinks I see something yonder upon the road before us — a thing of a shape such as I have not seen.” Then said Joseph, “ Mother, what is it?” “ An ugly thing, child, an ugly thing,” said she. “ But, mother, what is it like ?” said he. “ ’Tis like I cannot tell what,” said she. “ And now it is but a little way oft’.” Then said she, “ It is nigh.” “ Well, (said Mr. Great-heart,) let them that are most afraid keep close to me.” So the fiend came on and the conductor met it ; but when it was just come to him it vanished to all their sights. Then remembered they what had been said some time ago: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” f They went therefore on, as being a little refreshed; but they had not gone far before Mercy, looking behind her, saw, as she thought, something 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 ® None know the distress, anguish, and fear that haunt pilgrims in this valley but those who have been in it. The hissings, revilings, and injections of that old serpent, with his infernal malice, seem to be let loose upon pilgrims in this valley. Asaph seems to be walking in this valley when he says, “ As for me, my feet were almost gone : my steps had wellnigh slipt.” Ps. Ixxiii. 7. f Let Satan appear in what shape he will, we ought ever to put on great heart and good courage, for the faith of what Jesus is to us will inspire with these. Let us ever look to Christ our conqueror, and ever re- sist our adversary. } Satan is often most dreadful at a distance, and » urageously resisted when advanced nearer. This guide. So it came up, and Mr. Great-heart went behind and put the pilgrims all before him. The lion also came on apace, and Mr. Great-heart addressed himself to give him bat - tle. But when he saw that it was determined that resistance should be made, he also drew back and came no further.} 1 Pet. v. 8. Then they went on again, and their con- ductor did go before them, till they came at a place where was cast up a pit the whole breadth of the way ; and before they could be prepared to go over that a great mist and darkness fell upon them, so that they could not see. Then said the pilgrims, “ Alas ! now what shall we do?” But their guide made answer, “ Fear not, stand still, and see what an end will be put to this also.” So they stayed there, because their path was marred. They then also thought they did hear more appa- rently the noise and rushing of the enemies; the fire also and smoke of the pit was much easier to be discerned. || Then said Christiana to Mercy, Now I see what my poor husband went through; I have heard much of this place, but I never was here before now. Poor man! he went here all alone in the night; he had night almost quite through the way; also these fiends were busy about him as if they would have torn him in pieces. Many have spoke of it, but none could tell what the Valley of the Shadow of Death should mean until they come in themselves. “ The heart knows its own bitterness ; a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy.” To be here is a fearful thing.? Great-heart. This is like doing business in great waters, or like going down into the deep ; this is like being in the heart of the sea, and like going down to the bottoms of the moun- tains ; 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.” 7 advice is ever needful : “ He sober, be vigilant.” These pilgrims did keep up their watch : Satan did not come upon them unawares : they heard his approach ; they . were prepared for his attack: lo, Satan drew back. |] Awful walking, with a pit before us and darkness around, and hell seeming to move from beneath to meet us ! Oh what an unspeakable mercy, in such a distressing season, to have an almighty Saviour to look to and to call upon for safety and salvation ! For “he will hear our cry, and save us.” § To hear of the soul -distresses of others is oce thing: to experience them ourselves, is very different. This precious text (Isa. 1. 10) has been a sheet- anchor to many a soul under darkness and distress. Study it deeply. 212 RUNYAN'S COMPLETE WORKS. For my part, as I have told you already, I have gone often through this valley, and have been much harder put to it than now I am ; and yet you see I am alive. I would not boast, for that I am not my own saviour, but I trust we 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. So they cried and prayed, and God sent light and deliverance, for there was now no let in their way ; no, -not there where but now they were stopped with a pit. Yet they were not got through the valley ; so they went on still, and behold, great stinks and loathsome smells, to the great annoyance of them. Then said Mercy to Christiana, There is not such pleasant being here as at .the gate, or at the Interpreter’s, or at the house where we lay last. Oh 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.* Well said, Samuel, quoth the guide; thou hast now spoken like a man. Why, if ever I get out here again, said the boy, I think I shall prize light and good way better than ever I did in my life. Then said the guide, We shall be out by and by. So on they went, and Joseph said, Cannot we see to the end of this valley as yet ? Then said the guide, Look to your feet, for we shall presently be among the snares. So they looked to their feet, and went on, but they were troubled much with the snares. Now when they were come among the snares they espied a man cast into the ditch on the left hand, with his flesh all rent and torn. Then said the guide, That is one Heedless, that was going this way; he has lain there a great while. f There was one Take-heed with him when he was taken and slain, but he escaped their hands. You cannot imagine how many are killed hereabouts, and yet men are so fool-. * Precious thought under the worst and most dis- tressing circumstances! Think of this. Their con- tinuance is short. Their appointment, love. And their end shall be crowned with glory. f Heedless professors, be warned. The doctrines of grace were never intended to lull any to sleep in car- nal security. If they do so by you, it is a sure sign that what should have been for your health proves an occasion of your falling. J Iiow many such giants have we in the present ishly venturous as to set out lightly on pil- grimage, and to come without a guide. Poor Christian! it was a wonder that he here es- caped, 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, out thence came forth Maul, a giant. This Maul did used to spoil young pilgrims with sophistry, and lie 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, AVhat things? What things ! quoth the giant ; you know what things; but I will put an end to your trade. J 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 particulai's, man. Then said the giant, Thou practisest the craft of a kidnapper, thou gatlierest 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 ; and if this be indeed the ground of thy quarrel, let us fall to it as soon as thou wilt. || Then the giant came up, and Mr. Great- heart went to meet him, and as he went he drew his sword, but the giant had a club. So without more ado they fell to it, and at the first blow the giant struck Mr. Great-heart down upon one of his knees ; with that the women and children cried : so Mr. Great-heart recovering himself, laid about him in full lusty manner, and gave the giant a wound in his arm ; thus he fought for the space of an hour, to that height of heat that the breath came day, who deceive and beguile precious souls into a false and fatal security by their smooth lectures on morality and their avowed opposition to the Gospel of Christ and the way to his kingdom ! || To awaken our souls and lead them to Christ for life and salvation is the blessed work of faithful min- isters. In the spirit of love and meekness they will contend for the faith, however they may be ill-treated for their work. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. out of tlic giant’s nostrils as the heat cloth out of a boiling caldron. Then they sat down to rest them, but Mr. Great-heart betook himself to prayer; also the women and children did nothing but sigh and cry all the time that the battle did last* When they had rested them and taken breath, they both fell to it again, and Mr. Great-heart with a full blow fetched the giant down to the ground. Nay, hold, let me re- cover, quoth he. So Mr. Great-heart 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 full heat of his spirit, and pierced him under the fifth rib ; with that the giant began 213 to faint, and could hold up his club no longer. Then Mr. Great-heart seconded his blow, and smote the head of the giant from his shoulders. Then the women and children rejoiced, and Mr. Great-heart also praised God for the de- liverance he had wrought.f When this was done they among themselves erected a pillar, and fastened the giant’s head thereon, and wrote under it, in letters th it passengers might read, Ho that did wear this head was one That pilgrims did misuse; He stopped their way, he spared none, But did them all abuse, Until that I, Great-heart, arose. The pilgrims’ guide to be. Until that I did him oppose That was their enemy. CHAPTER VIII. 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, past up to be a pros- pect for pilgrims, (that was the place from whence Christian had the first sight of Faith- ful his brother.) Wherefore here they sat down and rested; they also here did eat and drink and make merry for that they had gotten deliverance from this so dangerous an enemy. As they sat thus and did eat Chris- tiana 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 detri- ment that it is at present a proof of my love to my Master and you, and shall be a means, by grace, to increase my reward at last. s The greatest heart cannot withstand without prayer, nor conquer without the almighty power of God. The belief of this will excite prayer. f Many such a battle has been fought, and many such a victory obtained, since the Reformation, over the enemies of our most holy faith. The furious attack made by Maul the giant on the conductor is to show us that lively and active minis- ters 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 “ kid- nappers,” and treated as enthusiasts : the Master whom they serve will give success to their endeavours, hear the prayers of his people, and make them more than conquerors. Thus were the pilgrims brought out But was you not afraid, good sir, when yon saw him come with his club? J 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? Why, I thought, quoth he, that so my Master himself was served, and yet he it was that conquered at last. 2 Cor. iv. Matthew. When you have all thought what you 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 reason why we should distrust our God any more, since of the valley, while danger and darkness rend-red returning light and the thoughts of heaven tho sweeter, and many thanksgivings redounded to the glory of God. By glimm’ring hopes and gloomy fears We trace the sacred road ; Through dismal deeps and dangerous snares We make our way to God. Long nights and darkness dwell below. With scarce a twinkling ray; But the bright world to which we go Is everlasting day. J This club we may suppose to mean human power under which many godly ministers in the last century suffered greatly. Blessed be God, we have nothing of this to fear in our day. 214 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 yr u ? And what is your business here? * Gnat-heart. 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. Then said Mr. Honest, I cry you mercy ; 1 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. Great-heart. Why, what would or could you have done to have helped yourself if we in- deed had been of that company? Honest. Done ! Why I would have fought as long as breath had been in me ; and had I so done, I am sure you could never have given me the worst on’t ; for a Christian can never be overcome unless he should yield of himself.f Great-heart. 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. Honest. And by this also I know that thou knowest what true pilgrimage is, for all others do think that we are the soonest overcome of any. Great-heart. Well, now we are happily met, pray let me crave your name and the name of the place you came from ? Honest. My name I cannot, hut I came from *• A blessed sign of a watchful heart, ever alarmed at the fear of danger. Though he was found sleeping, yet he could say with the Church, “ My heart waketh.” Song v. 2. | Mind this — a Christian can never be overcome unless he yields of himself. Then be most jealous over yourself, and most watchful against giving way to carnal reasonings, natural fears, and fleshly lusts. J Every Christian is the subject of honesty and justice, uprightness and sincerity; yet when we come the town of Stupidity; it lietli about four degrees beyond the city of Destruction. Great-heart. 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, Hot honest in the abstract,! but Honest is my name, and I wish that my nature maj agree to what I am called. But, sir, said the old gentleman, how could you guess that I am such a man, since I came from such a place ? Great-heart. I had heard of you before, by my Master, for he knows all things that are done on the earth. But I have often won- dered that any should come from your place, for your town is worse than is the city of Destruction itself. Honest. Yea, we lie more off from the sun, and so are more cold and senseless; hut 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 with me. || Great-heart. I believe it, father Honest, I believe it, for I know the thing is true. Then the old gentleman saluted all the pil- grims with a holy kiss of charity, and asked them of their names, and how they had fared since they set out on their pilgrimage. Christiana. Then said Christiana, My name, I suppose, you have, heard of : good Christian was my husband, and these four were his chil- dren. But can you think how the old gentle- man was taken when she told him who she was ! He skipped, he smiled, and blessed them with a thousand good wishes, saying, I have heard much of your husband, and of his travels and wars which he underwent in his days. Be it spoken to your comfort, the name of your husband rings all over these parts of the world ; his faith, his courage, his enduring, and his sin- cerity under all have made his name famous. Then he turned to the boys and asked them of their names, which they told him: and to describe these virtues in the abstract, or what they really are in their strict purity and utmost perfection, where is the Christian but must wear the conscien- tious blush as Honest did under a sense of his imperfections ? || This is the confession of an honest heart. It is never afraid of ascribing too much to the sovereignty of grace, nor of giving all th^ glory to the Sun of righteousness, for shining upon, and melting down its hard, frozen soul. Here is no trimming between grace and nature. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 215 then said ho unto them, Matthew, be thou like Matthew the publican, not in vice, but in vir- tue. Matt. x. 3. Samuel, saith he, be thou like Samuel the prophet, a man of faith and prayer. Ps. xeix. 6. Joseph, saith he, be thou like Joseph in Potiphar’s house, chaste, and one that flecth from temptation. Gen. xxxix. And, James, be thou like James the Just, and like James the brother of our Lord. Acts i. 13, 14. Then they told him of Mercy, and how she had left her town and her kindred to come along with Christiana (Ruth i. 10, 17) 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 dif- ficulties that shall assault thee in thy way, till thou shalt come thither where thou shalt look the Fountain of mercy in the face with com- fort. All this while the guide, Mr. Great-heart, was very well pleased, and smiled upon his companions. Now as they walked together the guide asked the old gentleman if he did not know one Mr. Fearing, that came on pilgrimage out of his parts? Honest. Yes, very well, said he. He was a man that had the root of the matter in him ; but he was one of the most troublesome pil- grims that I ever met with in all my days.* Great-heart. I perceive you knew him, for you have given a very right character of him. Honest. Knew him! I was a great com- panion of his: I was with him most an end; when he first began to think of what would come upon us hereafter I was with him. Great-heart. I was his guide from my Mas- ter’s house to the gate of the Celestial City. Honest. Then you knew him to be a trouble- some one. Great-heart. I did so; but I could very well bear it, for men of my calling are oftentimes entrusted with the conduct of such as lie was. Honest. Well, then, pray let us hear a little of him, and how he managed himself under your conduct. Great-heart. 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 ap- pearance of opposition in it. I heard that he lay roaring at the slough of Despond for above * Fearing pilgrims, though perplexed in themselves and troublesome to others, are yet to bo cherished and encouraged, as they have the root of the matter in them — faith in Jesus, hope towards God, fear of a month together: nor durst he, for all lie saw several go over before him, venture, though they, many of them, offered to lend him their hand. He would not go back again neither. The Celestial City! He said he should die if he came not to it, and yet was dejected at every difficulty, and stumbled at every straw that any body cast in his way. Well, after he had lain at the slough of Despond a great while, as I have told you, one sunshiny morning, I don’t know how, he ventured, and so got over; but when he was over he would scarce believe it. He had. I think, a slough of despond in his mind — a slough that he carried every where with him, or else he could never have been as he was. So he came up to the gate (you know what I mean) that stands at the head of this way; and there also he stood a good while be- fore 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 befope some to the gate, yet many of them went in before him. There the poor man would stand shaking and shrinking; I dare say it would have pitied one’s heart to have seen him; nor would he go back again. At last he took the hammer that hanged 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 when that he was in he was ashamed to show his face. Well, after that he had been enter- tained there awhile, (as you know how the manner is,) he was bid to go on his way, and also told the way he should take. So he 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. Nay, he had a note of necessity in his bosom to my Master, to re- ceive 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 offending him, and a desire to walk in his ways and please him. We must hear the burdens of suoh, and so fulfil the law of Christ. Gal. vi. 2., 216 JBUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. afraid to call at the door. So lie lay up and down thereabouts, till, poor man ! he was al- most starved: yea, so great was his dejection that, though he saw several others for knock- ing 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 aud down about tbe door, I went out to him and asked what he was ; but, poor man ! the water stood in his eyes : so I perceived what he wanted. I went therefore in and told it in the house, and we showed the things to our Lord; so he sent me out again to entreat him to come in : but I dare say I had hard work to do it. At last he came in ; and I will say that for my Lord, he carried it won- derful loving to him. There were but a few good bits at the table but some of them was laid upon his trencher. Then he presented the note; and my Lord looked thereon and said his desire should be granted. So, when he had been there a good while, he seemed to get some heart and to be a little more com- forted. For my Master, you must know, is one of very tender bowels, especially to them that are afraid : wherefore he carried it so to- wards him as might tend most to his encour- agement. 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 was but of few words, only he would sigh aloud. When we were come to where the three fel- lows were hanged, he said that he doubted that that would be his end also. Only he seemed glad when he saw the Cross and the Sepulchre. There, I confess, he desired to stay a little to look, and he seemed for a while after to be a little comforted. When we came at the hill Difficulty he made no stick at that, nor did he much fear the lions : for you must know that his trouble was not about such things as these ; his fear was about his accept- ance at last.* I got him in at the house Beautiful, ~I think, before he was willing ; also when he was in I brought him acquainted with the damsels that were of the place, but he was ashamed to make * 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 the end of Mr. Fearing was very joyful. Oh what a godly jealousy displayed itself all through his life! Better this than proud, vain-glori#us confidence. himself much for company ; he desired much to be alone, yet he always loved good talk, and often would get behind the screen to hear it : he also loved much to see 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. When he went also from the house Beauti- ful down the hill into the Valley of Humilia- tion, he went down as well as ever I saw a man in my life; for he cared not how mean he was, so he might be happy at last. Yea, I think there was a kind of sympathy betwixt that valley and him, for I never saw him better in all his pilgrimage than he was in that valley .f Here he would lie down, embrace the ground, and kiss the very flowers that grew in this valley. Lam. iii. 27, 29. He would now be up every morning by break of day, tracing and walking to and fro in the valley.! But when he was come to the entrance of the Valley of the Shadow of Death I thought I should have lost my man : not for that he had inclination to go back, (that he always ab- horred,) but he was ready to die for fear. “ Oh, the hobgoblins will have me ! the hobgoblins will have me !” cried he : and I could not beat him out on’t. He made such a noise and such an outcry here that, had they but heard him, it was enough to encourage them to come and fall upon us. But this I took very great no- tice of, that this valley was as quiet when we went through it as ever I knew it, before or since. I suppose those here had now a spe- cial check from our Lord, and a command not to meddle until Mr. Fearing was passed over it. It would be too tedious to tell you of all ; we will therefore only mention a passage or two more. When he was come to Vanity Fair I thought he would have fought with all the men in the fair: I feared there we both should have been knocked on the head, so hot was he against their fooleries. || Upon the Enchanted 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 f The Valley of Humiliation suits well with fearing hearts. I Fearing souls dwell much, early and late, in the Valley of Meditation. |i Here is a glorious display of a fearing heart. Full of courage against evil, and fired with zeal for God’s glory. T1IE PILGRIM ever, and so never see that face with comfort chat lie had come so many miles to behold.” And here also 1 took notice of what was very remarkable — the water of that river was lower at this time than ever I saw it in all my life: so he went over at last not much above wet- shod.* When he was going up to the gate I began to take my leave of him, and to wish him a good reception above ; so lie said, “ I shall, I shall.” Then parted we asunder, and I saw him no more. Honest. Then it seems he was well at last. Great- heart. 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. Ps. lxxxviii. He was, above many, tender of sin ; he was so afraid of doing injuries to others that he would often deny himself of that which was lawful, because he would not offend. f ltom. xiv. 11 ; 1 Cor. viii. 13. Honest. But what should he the reason that such a good man should be all his day's so much in the dark? Great-heart. There are two sorts of reasons for it: one is, The wise God will have it so ; some must pipe, and some must weep, (Matt, xi. 16, 18;) now Mr. Fearing was one that played upon the bass. He and his fellows sound the sackbut, whose notes are more dole- ful than the notes of other music are ; though indeed some say the bass is the ground of music. And for my part, I care not at all for that profession that begins not in heaviness of mind. The first string that the musician usually touches is the bass when he intends to put all in tune : God also plays upon this string first when he sets the soul in tune for himself. Only, there was this 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 i’eaders ; and because in the book of Revelations the saved are compared to a company of musicians, that # Oil how glorious is our Lord ! As thy day is, 0 pilgrim, so shall thy strength be. Even the river of death, though there he no bridge to go over, yet faith makes one : and the Lord of faith makes the waters low, to suit the state of his beloved ones. i Oh this is a blessed spirit ! Ye who are strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might, study to ex- cel herein. J Here is a very striking lesson for professors. Talk 'S PROGRESS. 217 play upon their trumpets and harps and sing their songs before the throne.] Honest. 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.]: Great-heart. 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 re- semblance betwixt this good man and I ; only we differ in two things : his troubles were so great that they brake out, but mine I kept within. His also lay so hard upon him they made him that he could not knock at the houses provided for entertainment; but my troubles were always such as made me knock the louder. Mercy. 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. Oh, thought I, may I have the happiness 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. not of your great knowledge, rich experience, som- fortable frames and joyful feelings: all are vain and delusive if the Gospel has not a holy influence upon your practice. On the other hand, he not dejected if you are not as yet favoured with these ; for if a holy fear of God and a godly jealousy over yourselves pos- sess your heart, verily you are a partaker of the grace of Christ, and if faithful, soon you shall exult in the sunshine of his love. 218 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Great- heart. Well said, James; thou hast hit the mark ; for “ the fear of God is the begin- ning of wisdom ; ” and, to be sure, they that want the beginning have neither middle nor end. But we will here conclude our discourse of Mr. Fearing, after we have sent after him this farewell : “ Much, Master Fearing, thou didst fear Thy God, and 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.” CHAPTER IX. The Character of Mr. Self-will. Now I saw that they all went on in their talk, for, after Mr. Great-heart had made an end with Mr. Fearing, Mr. Honest began to tell them of another, but his name was Mr. Self-will. He pretended himself to be a pil- grim, said Mr. Honest; but I persuade myself he never came in at the gate that stands at the head of the way. Great-heart. Plad you ever any talk with him about it ? Honest. Yes, more than once or twice : but he would always be like himself, self-willed. He neither cared for man, nor argument, nor example; what his mind prompted him to, that he would do, and nothing else could he be got to.* Great-heart. Pray, what principles did he hold ? for I suppose you can tell. Honest. 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. Great-heart. How, if he had said, It is pos- sible 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 in- deed we are exempted from no vice absolutely, but on condition that we watch and strive.! But this, I perceive, is not the thing : but if I understand you right, your meaning is that he was of that opinion that it was allowable so to be. Honest. Ay, ay, so I mean; and so he be-, lieved and practised. * Self-will ever accompanies ignorance of ourselves and of the truth, and is generally attended with licen- tious principles and practices. f This is a solid scriptural definition ; pray mind it. Here, it is evident, a condition must be admitted ; and happy is the Christian who keeps closest to these con- ditions, in order to enjoy peace of conscience and joy of heart in Christ. Great-heart. But what grounds had he for so saying ? Honest. Why, he said he had the Scripture for his warrant. Great-heart. Pr’ythee, Mr. Honest, present us with a few particulars. Honest. So I will. He said to have to do with other men’s wives had been practised by David, God’s beloved ; and therefore he could do it. He said to have more women than one was a thing that Solomon practised ; and there- fore he could do it. He said that Sarah and the godly midwives of Egypt lied, and so did Raliab ; 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.J Great-heart. High base indeed ! and are you sure he was of this opinion ? Honest. I have heard him plead for it, bring Scripture for it, bring arguments for it, &c. Great-heart. An opinion that is not fit to be with any allowance in the world ! Honest. 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. Great-heart . But what more false than such a conclusion? for this is as much as to say, that because good men heretofore have sinned of infirmity, therefore he had allowance to do it of a presumptuous mind; or if because a child, by the blast of wind or for that it sturn- J That heart which is under the teaching and influ- ence of the grace of God will detest such horrid no- tions, and cry out against them. God forbid that ever I should listen one moment to such diabolical senti- ments! for they are hatched in hell and propagated on earth by the father of lies. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 219 bled at a stone, fell down and defiled itself in mire, therefore lie might wilfully lie down and wallow like a boar therein. Who could have thought that any one could so far have been blinded by the power of lust? But what is written must be true: “They stumbled at the word, being disobedient; wliereunto also they were appointed.” 1 Pet. ii. 8. 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. “ To eat up the sin of God’s people” (IIos. iv. 8) is no sign of one that is possessed with their virtues. Nor can I believe that one that is of this opin- ion 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 him- self? Honest. Why, he says, to do this by way of opinion seems abundantly more honest than to do it and yet hold contrary to it in opinion. Great-heart. A very wicked answer; for, though to let loose the bridle to lusts while our opinions arc 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. Honest. There are many of this man’s mind that have not this man’s mouth; and that makes going on pilgrimage of so little esteem as it is. Great-heart. You have said the truth, and it is to be lamented ; but he that feareth the King of paradise shall come out of them all. Christiana. There arc strange opinions in the world: I knowone that said it was time enough to repent when he came to die. Great-heart. Such are not over-wise : that man would have been loth, might he have had a week to run twenty miles for his life, to have deferred that journey to the last hour of that week. Honest. You say right ; and yet the general- ity of them that count themselves pilgrims do indeed do thus. I am, as you see, an old man, and have been a traveller in this road many a day, and I have taken notice of many things.* I have seen some that set out as if they would drive all the world afore them, who yet have, in a few days, died as they in the wilder- ness, and so never got sight of the promised land. I have seen some that have promised nothing at first setting out to be pilgrims, and that one would have thought could not have lived another day, that have yet proved very good pilgrims. I have seen some who have run hastily forward, that again have, after a little time, run just as fast back again. I have seen some who have spoken very well of a pil- grim’s life at first, that, after a while, have spoken as much against it. I have heard some, when they first set out for paradise, say posi- tively, “ There is such a place,” who, when they have been almost there, have come back again and said, “ There is none.” I have heard some vaunt what they would do in case they should be opposed, that have, even at a false alarm, fled faith, the pilgrim’s way, and all. CHAPTER X. The Pilgrims arrive at the house of Gains, 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 * Pray, attentively mind and deeply consider the six following observations: they are just; they are daily confirmed to our observations in the conduct of different professors. Study and pray to improve them to your soul’s profit. villains, but whether they heard of Mr. Great- heart, or whether they had some other game, they came not up to the pilgrims.! Christiana then wished for an inn for herself and her children, because they were weary. Then said Mr. Honest, “ There is one a little before us, where a very honourable disciple, one Gaius, dwells.” Rom. xvi. 28. 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 f It is a blessed thing to take every alarm and to be on our guard. Hereby many dangers are avoided and many evils prevented. Watch ! is the word of the Captain of our salvation. 220 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. went in, not knocking, for folks use not to knock at the door of an inn. Then they called for the master of the house, and he came to them. So they asked if they might lie there that night ? Gains. Yes, gentlemen, if you he true men, for my house is for none but pilgrims. Then was Christiana, 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 her children and Mercy, and another for Mr. Great-heart and the old gentleman. Then said Mr. Great-heart, Good Gaius, what hast thou for supper ? for these pilgrims have come far to-day and are weary. It is late, said Gaius, so we cannot conveni- ently go out to seek food, but such as I have you shall be welcome to, if that will content you. Great-heart. We will be content with what thou hast in the house, for, as much as I have proved thee, thou art never destitute of that which is convenient. Then he went down and spake to the cook, whose name was Taste-that-whicli-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 Gaius, Whose wife is this aged matron? and whose daughter is this young damsel ? Great-heart. The woman is the wife of one Christian, a pilgrim in former rimes ; and these are his four children. The maid is one of her acquaintance — one that she hath persuaded to come with her on pilgrimage. The boys take all after their father, and covet to tread in his steps : yea, if they do but see any place where the old pilgrim hath lain or any print of his foot, it ministereth joy to their hearts, and they covet to lie or tread in the same. Then said Gaius, Is this Christian’s wife? and are these Christian’s children? I knew your husband’s father, yea, also his father’s father. Many have been good of this stock ; their ancestors first dwelt at Antioch. Acts xi. 26. Christian’s progenitors (I suppose you have heard your husband talk of them) were '* How does this reprove many professors of this day, who frequently meet together, and that about very worthy men. They have, above any that I know, showed themselves men of great virtue and courage for the Lord of the pilgrims, his ways, and them that loved him. I have heard of many of your husband’s relations that have stood all trials for the sake of the truth. Stephen, that was one of the first of the family from whence your husband sprang, was knocked on the head with stones. Acts vii. 59, 60. James, another of this generation, was slain with the edge of the sword. Acts xii. 2. To say nothing of Paul and Peter, men anciently of the family from whence your husband came, there was Ignatius, who was cast to the lions ; Romanus, whose flesh was cut by pieces from his bones ; and Polycarp, that played the man in the fire. There was he that was hanged up in a basket in the sun for the wasps to eat; and he whom they put in a sack and cast him into the sea to be drowned. It would be im- possible utterly to count up all that family that have suffered injuries and death for the love of a pilgrim’s life. Nor can I but be glad to see that thy husband has left behind him four such boys as these. I hope they will bear up theii father’s name, and tread in their father’s steps, and come to their father’s end. Great-heart. Indeed, sir, they are likely lads; they seem to choose heartily their _ father’s ways. Gaius. That is it that I said : wherefore Christian’s family is like still to spread abroad upon the face of the ground: therefore let Christiana look out some damsels for her sons, to whom they may be betrothed, &c., that the name of their father and the house of his pro- genitors may never be forgotten in the world. Honest. It is a pity his family should fall and be extinct. Gaius. Fall it cannot, but be diminished it may ; but let Christiana take my advice, and that’s the way to uphold it. And, Christiana, said this inn-keeper, I ana glad to see thee and thy friend Mercy together here, a lovely couple. And if I may advise, take Mercy into a nearer relation to thee ; if she will, let her be given to Matthew, thy eldest son : it is the way to preserve a posterity in the earth. So this match was concluded, and in process of time they were married ; but more of that hereafter. Gaius also proceeded, and said, I will now speak on the behalf of women, to take away every trifle, but have not one word to speak for pre- cious Christ, his glorious truths and holy ways? THE I' I LOR M’S PROGRESS. 221 their reproach. For as death and the curse came into the world by a woman, so also did life and health : “ God sent forth his Son, made of a woman.” Gen. iii. ; Gal. iv. 4. Yea, to show how much those that came after did ab- hor the act of the mother, this sex in the Old Testament coveted children, if happily this or that woman might be the mother of the Saviour of the world. I will say again, that when the Saviour was come, women rejoiced in him, be- fore either man or angel. Luke ii. 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 anointed his body to the burial. They were women that wept when he was going to the cross, and women that followed him from the cross, and that sat by his sepul- chre 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. Luke vii. 37, 50; viii. 2, 3; xxiii. 27; xxiv. 22, 23; John ii. 3; xi. 2; Matt, xxvii. 55, 61. Women therefore arc highly favoured, and show by these things that they are sharers with us in the grace of life. Now the cook sent up to signify that supper was almost ready, and sent one to lay the cloth and the trenchers, and to set the salt and bread in order. Then said Matthew, The sight of this cloth, and of this forerunner of the supper, begetteth in me a greater appetite to my food than I had before. Qaius. So let all ministering doctrines in this life beget in thee a greater desire to sit at the supper of the great King in his kingdom; for all preaching, books, and ordinances here arc but as the laying of the trenchers and as setting of salt upon the board, when compared with the feast that our Lord will make us when we come to his house. So supper came up ; and first a heave- shoulder and a wave-bread were set on the table before them ; to show them that they must begin the meal with prayer and praise to God. Lev. vii. 32, 34; x. 14, 15 ; Ps. xxv. 1 ; Heb. xiii. 15. The heave-shoulder David lifted his heart up to God with ; and with the wave- breast, where his heart lay, with that he used * Observe here the feast of pilgrims -was attended with joy. Christians may, they ought, yea, they have the greatest reason to, rejoice; but then it should bo spiritual joy, which springs from spiritual to lean upon his harp when he played. These two dishes were very fresh and good, and they all ate heartily thereof. The next they brought up was a bottle of wine as red as blood. So Gaius said to them, Drink freely: this is the true juice of the vine that makes glad the heart of God and man. So they drank and were merry. Deut. xxxii. 14 ; Judg.ix.13; John xv. 5. The next was a dish of milk well crumbled: but Gaius said, Let the boys have that, that they may “grow thereby.” 1 Pet. ii. 1, 2. Then they brought up in course a dish of butter and honey. Then said Gaius, Eat freely of this, for this is good to cheer up and strengthen your judg- ments and understandings. This was our Lord’s dish when he was a child: “Butter and honey shall he eat, that he may know’ to refuse the evil and choose the good.” Isa. vii. 17. Then they brought them up a dish of apples, and they were very good-tasted fruit. Then said Matthew, “May we eat apples, since they were such by and with which the serpent begui’ed 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 flagons, then, thou Church, his dove, And eat his apples who are sick of love.” Then said Matthew’, I made the scruple be- cause, a while since, I was sick with eating of fruit. Gaius. Forbidden fruit will make you sick, but not what our Lord lias tolerated. While they w’ere thus talking they were presented with another dish, and it was a dish of nuts. Sol. Songs vi. 11. Then said some at the table, “Nuts spoil tender teeth, especially the teeth of the children.” Which, when Gaius heard, he said, “ Hard texts are nuts (I will not call them cheaters). Whose shells do keep the kernels from the eaters : Open then the shells, and you shall have the meat; They here are brought for you to ci’aek and eat.” Then they were merry, and sat at the table a long time, talking of many things.* Then said the old gentleman, My good landlord, views and spiritual conversation. Let our speech be thus seasoned and our feasts thus tempered, and we shall find increasing joy and gladness of heart in the Lord. 222 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. while ye are cracking your nuts, if you please, do ye open this riddle : “ A man there was, (though some did count him mad,) The more he oast away, the more 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.” Then said Joseph, I dare say, sir, I did not think you could have found it out. Oh ! said Gaius, I have been trained up in this way a great while; nothing teaches like experience: I have learned of my Lord to be kind, and have found by experience that I have gained thereby. “ There is that scatter- ed, yet increased; and there is that with- holdeth more than is meet, but it tended to poverty ;” “ There is that maketh himself rich, yet hath nothing ; there is that maketh him- self poor, yet hath great riches.” Prov. xi. 24 ; xiii. 7. Then Samuel whispered to Christiana his mother, and said, Mother, this is a very good man’s house; let us stay here a good while, and let my brother Matthew be married here to Mercy, before we go any further.* The which Gaius the host overhearing, said, With a very good will, my child. So they stayed here more than a month, and Mercy was given to Matthew to wife. While they stayed here, Mercy, as her cus- tom was, would be making coats and garments to give to the poor, by which she brought a very good report upon pilgrims. CHAPTER XI. 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. But to return again to our story. After supper the lads desired a bed, for they were weary with travelling: theu 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 suit- able company that they could not tell how to part. Then after much talk of their Lord, themselves, and their journey, old Mr. Honest (he that put forth the riddle to Gaius) began to nod. Then said Great-heart, What, sir, you begin to be drowsy ! come, rub up : now here is a riddle for you.f Then said Mr. Honest, Let us hear it. Theu said Mr. Great-heart, “ He that will kill must first be overcome : Who live abroad would, first must die at home.” Ha! said Mr. Honest, it is a hard one — hard to expound, and harder to practise. But come, landlord, said he, I will, if you please, leave * Here is a genuine discovery of a gracious heart, when it is delighted with spiritual company and con- versation and longs for its continuance. Is it so with you, reader? j- Mind this: when one pilgrim observes that a brother is inclined to be drowsy, it is his duty, and should be his practice, to endeavour to awaken, quickou, enliven, and stir up such by spiritual hints. my part to you ; do you expound it, and I will hear what you say. No, said Gaius, it was put to you, and it is expected you should answer it. Then said the old gentleman, “ He first by grace must conquer’d be That sin would mortify: Who that he lives would convince me, Unto himself must die.” J It is right, said Gaius ; good doctrine and experience teach this. For, until grace dis- plays itself, and overcomes the soul with its glory, it is altogether without heart to oppose sin : besides, if sin is Satan’s cords by which the soul lies bound, how should it make resist- ance before it is loosed from that infirmity? Nor will any that knows either reason or grace believe that such a man can be a living mon- ument of grace that is a slave to his own cor- ruption. And, now it comes in my mind, I will tell you a story worth the hearing : There Oh that this was more practised ! Many blessings would be consequent upon it. I Oh this dying to self, to self-righteous pride, vain- confidence, self-love, and self-complacency, is hard work to the old man; yea, it is both impracticable and impossible to him. It is only grace yielded to that can conquer and subdue him. And where grace reigns this work is carried on day by day. TIIE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 223 were two men that went on pilgrimage; the one began when he was young, the other when ho was ohl; the young man had strong corrup- tions to grapple with, the old man’s were weak with the decays o(' nature: the young man trod his steps as even as did the old one, and was every way as light as he: who now, or which of them, had their graces shining clear- est, since both seemed to be alike? Honest. The young man’s, doubtless. For that which heads it against the greatest oppo- sition gives best demonstration 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, I have observed that old men have blessed themselves with this mistake — namely, taking the decays of nature for a gracious conquest over corrup- tions, and so have been apt to beguile them- selves. Indeed, old men that are gracious are best able to give advice to them that are young, because they have seen most of the emptiness of things ; but yet, for an old and a young man to set out both together, the young one has the advantage of the fairest discovery of a work of grace within him, though the old man’s corruptions are naturally the weakest. Thus they sat talking till break of day. Now when the family 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 Saviour is said to come “ out of a dry ground,” and also that he had “ no form of comeliness in him?” Then said Mr. Great-heart, To the first I an- swer, Because the church of the Jews, of which Christ came, had then lost almost all the sap and spirit of religion. To the second I say, The words are spoken in the person of unbe- lievers, who, because they want the eye that can see into our Prince’s heart, therefore judge of him by the meanness of his outside. Just like those that know not that precious stones arc covered over with a homely crust, who, when they have found one, because they know not what they have found, cast it again away, as men do a common stone. Well, said Gaius, now you are here, and since, as I know, Mr. Great-heart is good at his weapons, if you please, after we have re- freshed ourselves, we will walk into the fields, to see if we can do any good. About a mile from hence there is one Slay-good, a giant, that docs much annoy the King’s highway in these parts, and I know whereabout his haunt is: he is master of a number of thieves. It would be well if we could clear these parts of him.* So they consented and went, Mr. Great-heart with his sword, helmet, and shield, and the rest with spears and staves. When they came to the place where he was, they found him with one Feeble-mind in his hand, whom his servants had brought unto him, having taken him in the way ; now the giant was rifling him, with a purpose, after that, to pick his bones, for he was of the na- ture of flesh-eaters. Well, so soon as he saw Mr. Great-heart and his friends at the mouth of his cave with their weapons, he demanded what they wanted. Great-heart. We want thee, for we are come to revenge the quarrels of the many that thou hast slain of the pilgrims, when thou hast dragged them out of the King’s highway; wherefore come out of thy cave. So he armed himself and came out; and to the battle they went, and fought for above an hour, and then stood still to take wind. Then said the giant, Why are you here on my ground ? Great-heart. To revenge the blood of pil- grims, as I also told thee before. So they went to it again, and the giant made Mr. Great-heart give back ; but he came up again, and in the greatness of his mind he let fly with such stoutness at the giant’s head and sides that he made him let his weapon fall out of his hand ; so he smote and slew him, and cut off his head and brought it away to the inn. He also took Feeble-mind, the pilgrim, and brought him with him to his lodgings. When they were come home they showed his. head to the fam- ily, and set it up, as they had done others be- fore, 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 ? Then said the poor man, I am a sickly man, as you see, and because death did usually once a day knock at my door, I thought I should never be well at home ; so I betook myself to a pilgrim’s life, and have travelled hither from the town of Uncertain, where I and my father * After feeding, pilgrims are to prepare for fighting. They are not to eat in order to pamper their lusts, hut to strengthen their bodies and souls, that they may be stronger in the Lord, and in the power of his might to fight and conquer every enemy. 224 B UK TAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 as were necessary for my journey, and bid me hope to the end. When I came to the house of the Interpreter, I received much kindness there; and because the hill of Diffi- culty was judged too hard for me, I was carried up that by one of his servants. Indeed, I have found much relief from pilgrims, though none were willing to go softly as I am forced to do ; yet still, as they came on, they bid me be of good cheer, and said that if was the will of their Lord that “comfort” should be given to the “feeble-minded,” (1 Thess. v. 14,) and so went on their own pace. When I was come to Assault-lane, then this giant met with me and bid me prepare for an encounter ; but, alas ! feeble one that I was, I had more need of a cordial : so he came up and took me. I con- ceited 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 any pilgrim that is taken captive by violent hands, if he keeps heart-whole towards his Master, is, by the laws of providence, to die by the hand of the enemy. Eobbed I looked to be, and robbed to be sure I am ; but I am, as you see, escaped with life, for the which I thank my King as author and you as the means. Other brunts I also look for, but this I have resolved on — to wit, to run when I can. to go when I cannot run, and to creep when I cannot go. As to the main, I thank Him that loved me, I am fixed ; my way is before me, my mind is beyond the river that has no bridge, though I am, as you see, but of a feeble mind.f Then said old Mr. Honest, Have not you some time ago been acquainted with one Mr. Fearing, a pilgrim? ® All pilgrims are not alike vigorous, strong, and lively. Some are weak, creep and crawl on in the ways of the Lord. No matter: if there be but a pil- grim’s heart, all shall be well at last, for Omnipotence itself is for us: and then we ma3' boldly ask while we are obedient to the truth, Who shall be against us ? f What a sweet, simple relation is here ! doth it not suit many a feeble-minded Christian ? Poor soul, weak as he was, yet his Lord provided against his danger. He sent some strong ones to his deliverance and to Feeble-viincl. Acquainted with him! yes: he came from the town of Stupidity, which lies four degrees northward of the city of Destruc- tion, and as many off of where I was born ; yet we were well acquainted, for indeed he was my uncle, my father’s brother; he and I have been much of a temper: he was a little shorter than I, but yet we were much of a complex- ion. Honest. I perceive you know him ; and I am apt to believe also that you are related one to another, for you have his whitely look, a cast like his with your eye, and your speech is much alike. Feeble-mind. Most have said so that have known us both ; and, besides, what I have read in him I have for the most part found in myself. Come, sir, said good Gaius, be of good cheer; you are welcome to me and to my house, and what thou hast a mind to, call for freely; and what thou wouldst have my serv- ants do for thee, they will do with a ready mind. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind, This is an un- expected favour, and as the sun shining out of a very dark cloud. Did Giant Slay -good in- tend me this favour when he stopped 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?” Yet so it is.J 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 thunderbolt. 'Alas ! said Mr. Feeble-mind, is he slain? He overtook me some days before I came so far as hither, and would be my company- keeper; he also was with me when Slay-good the giant took me, but he was nimble of his heels and escaped : but it seems he escaped to die, and I was taken to live. [| “What one would think doth seek to slay outright Oft-times delivers from the saddest plight. slay his enemy. Mind his belief, even in his utmost extremity. Learn somewhat from this Feeble-mind. I Oh how sweet to reflect the most gigantic enemies shall bo conquered, and their most malicious designs shall be overruled for our good ! Yea, what they in- tend for our ruin shall be made to work for our health and prosperity. || 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 PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 225 That very providenoo whoso face is death Doth ofttimos to the lowly life bequeath. I taken was. he did escape and lloo ; Hands cross'd gave death to him and life to mo.” Now about this time Matthew and Mercy were married:* also Gains gave his daughter Thebe to James, Matthew’s brother, to wife. After which time they stayed about ten days at Gaius’s house, spending their time and the seasons like as pilgrims used to do". When they were to depart, Gaius made them a feast, and they did eat and drink and were merry. Now the hour was come -that they must be gone; wherefore Mr. Great-heart called for a reckoning. Rut Gaius told him that at his house it was not the custom of pil- grims to pay for their entertainment. lie boarded them by the year, but looked for bis pay from the Good Samaritan, who had prom- ised him, at his return, whatsoever charge he was at with them, faithfully to repay him. Luke. x. 34, 35. Then said Mr. Great-heart to him, “Beloved, thou doest faithfully whatso- ever thou doest to the brethren and to stran- gers, which have borne witness of thy charity before the Church, whom if thou yet bring forward on their journey after a godly sort, thou shalt do well.” 3 John 5, 6. Then Gaius took his leave of them all and his children, and particularly of Mr. Feeble- mind: he also gave him something to drink by the way. 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 agreeable company. — They en- counter a formidable Monster. Now Mr. Fceble-mind, when they were go- ing out at the door, made as if he intended to linger. The which when Mr. Great-heart es- pied, he said, “Come, Mr. Feeble-mind, pray do you go along with us. I will be your con- ductor, and you shall fare as the rest.” Feeble-mind. Alas! I want a suitable com- panion; you are all lusty and strong; but I, as you see, am weak. I choose therefore rather to come behind, lest by reason of my many in- firmities, I should be both a burden to myself and to you. I am, as I said, a man of a weak and feeble mind, and shall be offended and made weak at. that which others can bear. I shall like no laughing; I shall like no gay at- tire; I shall like no unprofitable questions. Nay,' I am so weak a man as to be offended at that which others have a liberty to do. I do not know all the truth : I am a very ignorant Christian man: sometimes, if I hear some re- joice in the Lord, it troubles me, because I cannot do so too. It is with me as it is with a weak man among the strong, or as a lamp de- spised. He that is ready to slip with his feet * The reader may remember that Mercy had some time before refused the addresses of Mr. Brisk, alleg- ing that she was determined not to have a clog to her soul; but now the Lord provides an helpmeet for her in Matthew, a sincere young pilgrim. Happy is the match which is made in the Lord, and tho partners who are united in eternal bonds ! f What an open, ingenuous oonfession is here ! 15 is as a lamp despised in the thought of him that is at ease, (Job xii. 5;) so that I know not what to do.f But, brother, said Mr. Great-heart, I have it * in commission to "‘comfort the feeble-minded” and to support the weak. You must needs go along with us: we will wait for you, we will lend you our help, we will deny ourselves of some things, both opinionative and practical, for your sake; we will not enter into “doubt- ful disputations ” before you ; we will be made all things to you rather than you shall be left behind. t Rom. xiv. ; 1 Cor. viii. 9, 13; ix. 32. Now all this while they were at Gaius’s door; and behold, as they were thus in the heat of their discourse, Mr. Ready-to-halt came by with his crutches in his hand, and he also was going on pilgrimage. Ps. xxxviii. 17. Then said Mr. Feeble-mind to him, How earnest thou hither? I was but now complain- ing that I had not a suitable companion, but thou art according to my wish. Welcome, welcome, good Mr. Ready-to-halt : I hope thou and I may be some help. Though feeble in mind, he was strong in wisdom and sound judgment. J Oh that this were more practised among Chris- tians of different standing, degrees, and judgment! If they who are strong were thus to bear with the weak, as they ought, how much more love, peaoe, and unanimity would prevail ! 226 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Ready- to- half. I shall be glad of thy com- pany, said the other; and, good Mr. Feeble- mind, rather than we will part, since we are thus happily met, I will lend thee one of my crutches. * Feeble-mind. Nay, said he, though I thank thee for thy good-will, I am not inclined to halt before I am lame. Howbeit, I think, when occasion is, it may help me against a dog. Ready-to-halL If either myself or my crutches can do thee a pleasure, we are both at thy com- mand, good Mr. Feeble-mind. Thus therefore they went on : Mr. Great- heart and Mr. Honest went before, Christiana and her children went next, and Mr. Feeble- mind 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 are gone on pil- grimage before us. Great-heart. With a good will. I suppose you have heard how Christian of old did meet with Apollyon in the Valley of Humiliation, and also what hard work he had to go through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Also, I think you cannot but have heard how Faithful was put to it by Madam Wanton, with Adam the First, with one Discontent, and Shame; four as deceitful villains as a man can meet with upon the road. Honest. Yes, I believe I heard of all this: but indeed good Faithful was hardest put to it by Shame; he was an unwearied one. Great-heart. Ay; for, as the pilgrim well said, he of all men had the wrong name. Honest. But pray, sir, where was it that Christian and Faithful met Talkative? That same was a notable one. Great-heart. He was a confident fool; yet many follow his ways. Honest. Fie bad like to have beguiled Faith- ful. Great-heart. Ay, but Christian put him into a Avay quickly to find him out. Thus they went on till they came to the place where Evangelist met with Christian and Faithful, and prophesied to them what they should meet with at Vanity Fair. * Excellent! See the nature of Christian love; ever to be ready to spare to a brother what we ourselves have occasion for. Love looketh not at the things of our own, but to provide for the wants of others. f Nothing more profitable than conversing on the faith, valour and success of those who have gone be- fore us, with their trials, enemies, and dangers, yet how gloriously they fought their way through all, and 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. Honest. Say you so? I dare say it was a hard chapter that then he did read unto them. Great-heart. It was so, but then he gave them encouragement withal. But what do we talk of them ? they were a couple of lion-like men ; they had set their faces like flints. Do not you remember how undaunted they were when they stood before the judge? Honest. Well, Faithful bravely suffered. Great-heart. So he did, and as brave things came on’t : for Hopeful and some others, as the story relates, were converted by his death. Honest. Well, but pray go on; for you are well acquainted with things. f Great-heart. Above all that Christian met with after he bad passed through Vanity Fair, one By-ends was the arch one. Honest. By-ends ! What was he ? Great-heart. A very arch fellow, a down- right hypocrite ; one that would be religious which way ever the world went : but so cun- ning that he would be sure never to lose or suffer for it. He had his mode of religion for every fresh occasion, and his wife was as good at it as he. He would turn 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 I ever hear that any of his children were ever of any es- teem with 'any that truly fear God. Now by this time they were come within sight of the town of Vanity, where Vanity Fair is kept. So when they saw that they were so near the town, they consulted with one an- other how they should pass through the town, and some said one thing, and some another. At last Mr. Great-heart said, I have, as you may understand, often been a conductor of pilgrims through this town : now I am ac- quainted with one Mr. Mnason, a Cyprusian by nation, and an old disciple, at whose house we may lodge. If you think good, said he, we will turn in there. J Content, said old Honest ; Content, said came off more than conquerors over all. Pilgrims love to hear these things. J How happy to find a house in Vanity Fair whose Master will receive and entertain pilgrims ! Blessed be God for the present revival of religion in our day, and for the many houses that are open to the friends of the Lamb ! The hearts of the masters of which he opens. THE riLORIM'S PROGRESS. 221 Christiana; Content, said Mr. Feeble* mi ml ; and so they said all. Now you must think it was eventide by that they got to the outside of the town, but Mr. Great-heart knew the way to the old man’s house. So thither they came ; and he called at the door, and the old man within knew his tongue as soon as ever he heard it; so he opened and they all came in. Then said Mnason their host, “ How far have ye come to-day?” So they said, “From the house of Gains our friend.” “ I promise you,” said lie, “ you have gone a good stitch ; you may well 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 wel- come : and whatever you want do but say, and we will do what we can to get it for you. Honest. Our great want, a while since, was harbour and good company ; and now I hope we have both.* Mnason. 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. Now when they were set in their places, and were a little cheery after their journey, Mr. Honest asked his landlord if there were any store of good people in the town? Mnason. We have a few, for indeed they are but a few when compared* with them on the other side. Honest. But how shall we do to see some of them ? for the sight of good men to them that are going on pilgrimage is like to the appear- ing of the moon and stars to them that are going a journey. f 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. * Under all our wants may we not say, with our Father Abraham, God will provide? Gen. xxii. S. f The inquiry of disciples after suitable company discovers that they, with David, love the Lord's saints, and in the excellent of the earth is all their delight. Ps. xvi. 3. A genuine discovery this of a gracious heart. J A precious prayer for the best of blessings. Darc-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 to- gether at the table. Then said Mr. Mnason, their landlord, My neighbours, I have, as you see, a company of strangers come to my house: they are pilgrims; they come from afar and are going to Mount Zion. 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 see Christiana when Grace came to call us: wherefore this is very comfortable 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 to the lads, “ The King whom you love and serve make you as your father, 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. Contrite. 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 lias to do with such as we have, has need of an item, to cau- tion him to take heed every moment of the day.|| Honest. But how are your neighbours now for quietness? Contrite. They are much more moderate now than formerly. You know how Christian and Faithful were used at our town ; but of late, I say, they have been far more moderate. I think the blood of Faithful lieth with a load upon them till now, for since they burned him they have been ashamed to burn any more ; in those days we were afraid to walk the streets, but now we can show our heads. Then the name of a professor was odious: now, especially in some parts of our town, (for you know cur town is large,) religion is counted honourable.? || Mind tP is hint. May it kindle a sense of danger, and excite caution. § It is a merev, when open persecution for the word abates and religion is more respected : but how do pro- fessors in such times get cold and dead, grow formal and worldly 1 The smiles of the town of Vanity often prove more injurious than its frowns. Be on your guard, 0 pilgrims 1 228 LUKYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Then said Mr. Contrite to them, Pray how faretli it with you in your pilgrimage? How stands the country affected towards you ? Honest. It happens to us as it happeneth to wayfaring men : sometimes our way is clean, sometimes foul, sometimes up hill, sometimes down hill ; we are seldom at a certainty ; the wind is not always on our backs, nor is every one a friend that we meet with in the way. We have met with some notable rubs already, and what are yet behind we know not ; but for the most part we find it true that has been talked of old : “ A good man must suffer trouble.” Contrite. You talk of rubs : what rubs have you met withal? Honest. Nay, ask Mr. Great-heart, our guide, for be can give the best account of that. Great-heart. We have been beset two or three times already. First, Christiana and her chil- dren were beset with two ruffians that, they feared would take away their lives. We were beset with Giant Bloody-man, Giant Maul, and Giant Slay-good. Indeed, we did rather beset the last than 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 to go see if we could light upon any of those that were enemies of pilgrims ; for we heard that there was a nota- ble one thereabouts. Now Gaius knew his haunt better than I, because he dwelt there- about; so we looked and looked, till at last we discerned the mouth of his cave; then were we glad and plucked up our spirits. So we ap- proached 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 an- other prey, 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 wayside for a terror to such as should after practise such ungodli- ness. 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 pick my bones every moment ; and to my comfort, when I saw Mr. Great-heart * This is a sound speech. Lord, grant that we, who profess thy holy name, may take good heed to this. It is a word of conviction to many. and his friends, with their weapons, approach so near for my deliverance. Then said Mr. Holy-man, There are two things that they have need to be possessed of that go on pilgrimage — courage and an unspotted life. If they have not courage, they can never hold on their way; and if their lives be loose, they will make the very name of a pilgrim stink.* Then said Mr. Love-saint, I hope this cau- tion is not needful among you : but truly there are many that go upon the road that rather de- clare 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 pil- grim’s courage : they go not uprightly, but all awry with their feet : one shoe goeth inward, another outward, and their hosen out behind, here a rag and there a rent, to the disparage- ment of their Lord.f These things, said Mr. Penitent, they ought to be troubled for ; nor are the pilgrims like to have that grace upon theyn and their pilgrim’s progress as they desire until the way is cleared of such spots and blemishes. Thus they sat talking and spending the time until the supper 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 grew acquainted with many of the good people of the town, and did them what service they could. Mercy, as she was wont, laboured much for the poor ; where- fore their bellies and backs blessed her, and she was there an ornament to her profession. And to say the truth for Grace, Phebe, and Martha, they were all of a very good nature, and did much good in their places. They were also all of them very fruitful ; so that Christian’s name, as was said before, was like to live in the world. While they lay here there came a monster out of the woods and slew many of the people of the town. It would also carry away their children and teach them to suck its whelps. Now no man in the town durst so much as face this monster, but all men fled when they heard the noise of his coming. The monster was f An excellent observation and a just reproof. May it carry conviction to the heart of those it suits ! TIIE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 229 like unto one boast upon the earth: its body was “ like a dragon, and it had seven heads and ten horns.” llev. xii. 3. It made great havoc of children, and yet it was governed by a wo- man. This monster propounded conditions to men, and such men asf loved their lives more than their souls accepted of those conditions. Now Mr. Great-heart, together with those who came to visit the pilgrims at Mr. Mnason’s house, entered into a covenant to go and en- gage this beast, if perhaps they might deliver the people of this town, from the paws and mouth of this so devouring a serpent. Then did Mr. Great-heart, Mr. Contrite, Mr. Holy-man, Mr. Dare-not-lie, and Mr. Peni- tent, with their weapons, go forth to meet him. Now the monster, at first, was very rampant, and looked upon these enemies with great disdain; but they so belaboured him, being sturdy men-at-arms, that they made him make a retreat; so they came home to Mr. Mnason’s house again. The monster,* you must know, had his cer- tain seasons to come out in and to make his attempts upon the children of the people of the town: also these seasons did these valiant worthies watch him in, and did continually assault him ; insomuch that, in process of time, he became not only wounded, but lame ; also he had not made the havoc of the towns- men’s children as formerly he had done. And it is verily believed by some that this beast will certainly die of his wounds. This there- fore 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 reverence for these men, nor took notice of their valour and adventures. CHAPTER XIII. The Pilgrims kill Giant Despair and his wife, and totally demolish his castle . — They pro- ceed to the Delectable Mountains. Well, the time drew on that the pilgrims must go on their way ; therefore they prepared for their journey. They sent for their friends; they conferred with them ; they had some time set apart therein to commit each other to the projection of their Prince. There were again that brought them of such things as they had that were tit for the weak and the strong, for the women and the men, and so laded them with such things as were necessary. Acts xxviii. 10. Then they set forward on their way, and their friends accompanying them so far as was convenient, they again committed each other to the protection of their King, and departed. They, therefore, that were of the pilgrims’ company went on, and Mr. Great-heart went before them; now the women and children being weakly, they were forced to go as they ® Tl.i. tefers (observes the Rev. Mr. Scott) to the nrevaleuce of popery for some time before the Revo- lution in 168 $, by which many nominal Protestants were drawn aside, and numbers of children educated in the principles of darkness and superstition. The favour and frown of the prince and his party operated sc powerfully that worldly men in general yielded to could bear ; by this means Mr. Ready-to-halt and Mr. Feeble-mind had more to sympathize with their condition. When they were gone from the townsmen, and when their friends had bid them farewell, they quickly came to the place where Faithful was put to death : therefore they made a stand, and thanked Him that had enabled him to bear his cross so well ; and the rather because they now found that they had a benefit by such a man’s sufferings as he was. They went on, therefore, after this, a good way further, talking of Christian and Faithful, and how r Hopeful joined himself to Christian and that Faithful was dead. Now they were come up the hill Lucre, w’here the silver mine was which took Deinas off from his pilgrimage, and into which. t as some think. By-ends fell and perished: where- tbe imposition : but several persons among the Non- conformists, as well as in the Established Church, did eminent service at this crisis by their preaching and writings, in exposing the delusions 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 of popery in Britain. 230 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. fore 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 — they mar- velled, as did Christian before, that men of that knowledge and ripeness of wit, as they were, should be so blind as to turn aside here. Only they considered again that nature is not affected with the harms that others have met with, especially if that thing upon which they lock has an attracting virtue upon the foolish eye. I saw now that they went on till they came to the river that was on this side of the De- lectable Mountains — to the river where the fine trees grow on both sides, and whose leaves, if taken inwardly, are good against surfeits, (Ps. xxiii. ;) 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 entrusted with them, who could have compas- sion and could gather these lambs with his arm and carry them in his bosom, and that could gently lead those that were with young. Heb. v. 2; Isa. lxiii. Now to the care of this man Christiana admonished her four daugh- ters to commit their little ones, that by these waters they might be housed, harboured, suc- coured, and nourished, and that none of them might be lacking in time to come. This man, if any of them go astray or be lost, will bring them back again ; he will also bind up that which was broken and will strengthen them that are sick. Jer. xiii. 4; Ezek. xxxiv. 11, 16. Here they will never want meat, drink, and clothing; here they will be kept from thieves, and robbers; for this man will die before one of those committed to his trust shall be lost. Besides, here they shall be sure to have good nurture and admonition: and shall be taught to walk in right paths ; and that, you know, is a favour of no small account. Also here, as you see, are delicate waters, pleasant meadows, dainty flowers, variety of trees, and such as bear wholesome fruit— fruit not like that which Matthew eat of, that fell over the wall out of Beelzebub’s garden ; but fruit * Here we frequently find our author speaking of our Lord and Saviour as Man. He excels in this. It were to be wished that authors and preachers wrote that procureth health where there is none, and that continuetli and increaseth where it is.* So they were content to commit their little ones to him ; and that which was also an en • couragement to them so to do was, 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 they were come to By-path Meadow, to the stile over which Christian went with his fellow Plopeful, when they were taken by Giant Despair and put into Doubting Castle, they sat down and consulted what was best to be done ; to wit, now they were so strong, and had got such a man as Mr. Great-heart for their conductor, whether they had not best to make an attempt upon the giant, demolish his castle, and if there were any pilgrims in it to set them at liberty, before they went any further. So one said one thing, and another said to the contrary. One questioned if it w T as lawful to go upon un- consecrated ground ; another said they might, provided their end was good. But Mr. Great- heart said, Though that assertion offered last cannot be universally true, yet I have a com- mandment 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, “ / will.” “And so we will too,” said Christiana’s four sons, Matthew, Samuel, James, and Joseph, for they were young men and strong. 1 John ii. 13, 14. So they left the women on the road, &nd with them Mr. Feeble-mind and Mr. Beady-to- halt with his crutches, to be their guard until they came back; for in that place, though Giant Despair dwelt so near, they keeping in the road, “a little child might lead them.” Isa. xi. 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. With 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, and spake more frequently of the manhood of Jesus, who was a perfect Man, like unto us in all things ex- cept sin. THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS. 231 "It is T, Great-heart, one of the King of the I Celestial Country’s conductors of pilgrims to I their place; and I demand of thee that thou open thy gates for my entrance ; prepare thy- self also to fight, for 1 am come to take away thy head and to demolish Doubting Castle.” Now Giant Despair, because he was a giant, thought no man could overcome him ; and again thought he, “Since heretofore I have made a conquest of angels, shall Great-heart make me afraid?” So he harnessed himself and went out : he had a cap of steel upon his head, a breastplate of fire girded to him, and he came out in iron shoes with a great club in his hand. Then these six men made up to him, and beset him behind and before: also when Diffidence, the giantess, came up to help him, old Mr. Honest cut her down at one blow. Then they fought for their lives, and Giant Despair was brought down to the ground, but was very loth to die ; 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 case be done, since Giant Despair was dead. They were seven days in destroying of that : and in it, of pilgrims, they found one Mr. Despond- ency, almost starved to death, and one Much- afraid, his daughter; these two they saved alive. But it would have made you wonder to have seen the dead bodies that lay here and there in the castle-yard, and how full of dead men’s bones the dungeon was. When Mr. Great-heart and his companions had performed this exploit, they took Mr. De- spondency, and his daughter Much-afraid into their protection ; for they were honest people, though they were prisoners in Doubting 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 showed them what they had done. Now when Feeble-mind andReady-to- lialt sa>v that it was the head of Giant Despair * What cannot Great-heart do? What feats not perform? What victories not gain ? Who can stand before Great-heart? Diffidence shall fall and Giant Despair be slain by the power of Great-heart with the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God; (Eph. vi. 17 ;) even Despondency, though almost starved, shall be delivered," and his daughter, Much- afraid, shall be rescued. Oh for more of Great-heart’s company ! indeed, they were very jocund and merry. Now Christiana, if need was, could play upon the viol, and her daughter Mercy upon the lute; so, since they were so merry disposed, she played them a lesson, and Ready-to-halt would dance. So he took Despondency’s daughter, named Much-afraid, by the hand, and to dancing they went in the road. True, he could not dance without one crutch in his hand ; but I promise you he footed it well ; also, the girl was to be commended, for she answered the music handsomely. A" 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 prepared him something to eat ; and in a little time the old gentleman came to himself, and began to be finely revived. Now r I saw in my dream when all these things were finished Mr. Great-heart took the head of Giant Despair and set it upon a pole by the highway side, right over against a pillar that Christian erected for a caution to pilgrims that came after to take heed of entering into his grounds. Then he writ under it, upon a marble stone, these verses following : “ This is the head of him whose name only In former time did pilgrims terrify, llis castle’s down,f 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 Who hereof doubts, if he’ll but cast his eye Dp hither, may his scruples satisfy. This head also, when doubting 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 Moun- tains, where Christian and Hopeful refreshed themselves with the varieties of the place. They also acquainted themselves with the shepherds there, who welcomed them, as they f The following lines contain an important truth, and deserve particular regard: Though Doubting Castle be demolished. And the Giant Despair hath lost his head, Sin can rebuild the castle, make’t remain, And make Despair the giant live again. Excellent remark ! pray mind it. 232 BUXYAX’S COMPLETE WORKS. had done Christian before, un'.o 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 ?” Great-heart. “First, here is Christiana and-her train, Her sons and her sons’ wives, who, like the wain Keep by the Pole, and do by compass steer From sin to grace, else they had not been here. Next here’s old Honest come on pilgrimage; Ready-to-halt too, who, I dare engage, True-hearted is, and so is Feeble-mind, Who willing was not to be left behind. Despondency, good man, is coming after, And so also is Much-afraid, his daughter; May we have entertainment here, or must We further go? Let’s know whereon to trust.” Then said the shepherds, This is a comfort- able company ; you are welcome to us, for we have for the feeble as for the strong: our Prince has an eye to what is done to the least of these, (Matt. xxv. 40;) therefore infirmity must not be a block to our entertainment. So they had them to the palace doors, and then said unto them, “ Come in, Mr. Feeble-mind ; come in, Mr. Ready-to-halt; come in, Mr. De- spondency, and Miss Much-afraid, his daughter. These, Mr. Great-heart,” said the shepherds to the guide, “ we call in by name, for that they are most subject to draw back; but as for you and the rest that are strong, we leave you to your wonted liberty.” Then said Mr. Great- heart, “ This day I see that grace doth shine in your faces, and that you are my Lord’s shepherds indeed: for that you have not pushed these diseased neither with side nor shoulder, but have rather strewed their way into the palace with flowers, as you should.” Ezek. xxxiv. 21. So the feeble and weak went in, and Mr. Great-heart and the rest did follow. When they were also set down, the shepherds said to those of the weaker sort, What is that you would have? For, said they, all things must be managed here to be 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 re- ceived, they went to their rest, each one re- spectively unto his proper place. When morn- ing was come, because the mountains were high and the day clear, and because it was the custom of the shepherds to show she pilgrims, before their departure, some rarities, therefore, after they were ready and had refreshed them- selves, 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 them that this man was the son of one Mr. Great-grace, [of whom you read in the first part of the records of the Pilgrim's, Progress, \ and he is set there to teach pilgrims how to believe down or to tumble out of their way what difficulties they should meet with, by faith. Mark xi. 23, 24. Then said Mr. Great- heart, “ I know him ; he is a man above many.” Then they had them to another place, called Mount Innocence : and there they saw a man clothed in white, and two men, Prejudice and Ill-will, continually casting dirt upon him. Now, behold the dirt, whatsoever they cast at him, would in a little time fall off again, and his garment would look as clear as if no dirt had been cast thereat. Then said the pil- grims, What means this? The shepherds answered, This man is named Godly-man, and the garment is to show the innocency of his life. Now, those that throw dirt at him are such as hate his well-doing ; hut as you see the dirt will not stick upon his clothes, so it shall be with him that lives truly innocent in the world. Whoever they he that would make such men dirty, they labour all in vain ; for God, by that a little time is spent, will cause that their innocence shall break forth as the light and their righteousness as the noonday. Then they took them and had them to Mount Charity, where they showed them a man that had a bundle of cloth lying before him, out of which he cut coats and garments for the poor that stood about him ; yet his bundle or roll of cloth was never the less. Then said they, What should this be? This is, said the shepherds, to show you that he that has a heart to give of his labour to the poor shall never want wherewithal. “ He that watereth shall be watered himself.” And the cake that the widow gave to the prophet did not cause that she had ever the less in her barrel. They had them also to the place where they saw one Fool and one Want-wit washing of an Ethiopian, with an intention to make him white; hut the more they washed him the TIIE TIRO RIM’S PROGRESS. 233 blacker lu' was. They then asked the shep- herds what tlmt should mean? So they told them, saying', Thus shall it he with the vile person ; all means used to get such a one a good name shall in conclusion tend but to make him more abominable. Thus it was with the Pharisees, and so it shall be with all hypocrites. Then said Mercy, the wife of Matthew, to Christiana her mother, I would, if it might be, sec the hole in the hill, or that commonly called the by-way to hell. So her mother brake her mind to the shepherds. Then they went to the door, (it was on the side of an hill,) and they opened it and bid Mercy hearken awhile. So she hearkened and heard one say- ing, “Cursed be my father for holding of my feet back from the way of peace and life!” And another said, “ Oh that I had been torn in pieces before I had, to save my life, lost my soul I” 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 entertained them with what the house would afford : but Mercy, being a young and breeding woman, longed for some- thing that she saw there, but was ashamed to ask. Her mother-in-law then asked what she ailed, for she looked as one not well. Then said Mercy, There is a looking-glass hangs up in the dining-room, off which I cannot take my mind; if therefore I have it not, I think I shall miscarry. Then said her mother, I will mention thy wants to the shepherds, and they will not deny it thee. But she said, I am ashamed that these men should know that I longed. Nay, my daughter, said she, it is no shame, but a virtue, to long for such a thing as that. So Mercy said, Then, mother, if you please, ask the shepherds if they are willing to sell it. Now the glass was one of a thousand. It would present a man, one way, with his own features exactly ; and turn it but another way, and it would show one the very face and si- * Oh what a blessed thing it is to long for the word of God, so as not to be satisfied without it, and to prize it above and beyond all other things ! Lovo to the word excites the soul to say with David, “ I have militude 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 ghtss; they have therein also seen the holes in his hands, in his feet, and his side. Yea, such an excellency is there in that glass that it will show him to one where they have a mind to see him, whether liking or dead, whether in earth or in heaven, whether in a state of humiliation, or in his exaltation, whether coming to suffer or coming to reign.* James i. 23-25; 1 Cor. xiii. 12; 2 Cor. iii. 13. Christiana therefore went to the shepherds apart, (now the names of the shepherds were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful, and Sin- cere,) and said unto them, There is one of my daughters, a breeding woman, that, I think, doth long for something that she hath seen in this house, and she thinks she should miscarry if she should by you be denied. Experience. Call her, call her: she shall assuredly have what, we can help her to. So they called her, and said to her, Mercy, what is that thing thou wouldst have?- Then she blushed and said, The great glass that hangs up in the dining-room. So Sincere ran and fetched it, and with a joyful consent it was given her. Then she bowed her head and gave thanks, and said, By this I know that 1 have obtained favour in your eyes. They also gave to the other young women such things as they desired, and to their hus- bands great commendations for that they had joined with Mr. Great-heart to the slaying of Giant Despair and the demolishing of Doubt- ing Castle.f About Christiana’s neck the shepherds put a bracelet, and so they did about the necks of her four daughters ; also they put earrings 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 tlierr those certain cautions which before were given to Christian and his companion. The reason was for that these had Great-heart to be their guide, who was one that was well acquainted with things, and so could give them their cautions more seasonable; to wit, even then when the danger was nigh the approaching. What cautions Christian and his compan- longed for thy salvation, 0 Lord.” Ps. exix. 174. This is a special mark of a gracious soul. f No good thing, done in the name and to the glory of Christ, shall be forgotten of him, nor go unrewarded by him. 234 a UN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. ion had received of the shepherds they had also lost by that the time was come that they had need to put them in practice. Wherefore, here was the advantage that this company had over the other. From 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.” . CHAPTER XIV. The company joined by Mr. Valiant-for-truth and Mr. Standfast. — They pass over the Enchanted Ground. — A description of Madam Bubble. When they were gone from the shepherds they quickly came to the place where Chris- tian met with one Turn-away, . that dwelt in the town of Apostacy. Wherefore of him Mr. Great-heart, their guide, did now put them in mind, saying, This is the place where Chris- tian met with one Turn-away, who carried with him the character of his rebellion at his back. And this I have to say concerning this man — he would hearken to no counsel, but once a-falling, persuasion could not stop him. When he came to the place where the cross and the sepulchre was, he did meet with one that did bid him look there, but he gnashed with his teeth and stamped, and said he was resolved to go back to 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 re- sisted him, and having done much despite unto him, he got away over the wall, and so escaped his hand. Then they went on; and just at the place where Little-faith formerly was robbed there stood a man with his sword drawn and his face all bloody. Then said Mr. Great-heart, What art thou? The man made answer, saying, I am one whose name is Valiant-for-truth; I am a pilgrim, and am going to the Celestial City. Now, as I was on my way there were three men that did beset me, and propounded unto me these three things : Whether I would be- come one of them, or go back from whence I came, or die upon the place? To the first I answered, I had been a true man a long season, and therefore it could not be expected that I should now cast in my lot with thieves. Prov. i. 10, 19. Then they demanded what I would * Truth will make a man valiant: and valour for truth will make a pilgrim fight with wild-headed, in- considerate, and pragmatic opposers. The blood he say to the second? So I told them of the place from whence I came ; had I not found incom- modity there, I had not forsaken it at all ; but finding it altogether unsuitable to me and very unprofitable for me, I forsook it for this way. Then they asked what I said to the third? And I told them my life cost more dear far than that I should lightly give it away. Be- sides, you have nothing to do to put things to my choice ; wherefore at your peril be it if you meddle. Then these three — to wit, Wild-head, Inconsiderate, and Pragmatic — drew upon me, and I also drew upon them. So we fell to it, one against three, for the space of three hours. They have left upon me, as you see, some of the marks of their valour, and have also car- ried away with them some of mine. They are but just now gone: I suppose they might, as the saying is, hear your horse dash, and so they betook themselves to flight. Great-heart. But here was great odds, three against one. Valiant-for-truth. ’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 confident,” &c. Besides, said he, I have read in some records that one man has fought an army: and how many did Samson slay with the jawbone of an ass?* Then said the guide, Why did you not cry out, that some might have come in for your succour ? • Valiant-for-truth. So I did to my King, who I knew could hear me and afford invisible help, and that was enough for me.f loses in such a battle is his honour, the scars he gets are his glory. f Enough indeed. He who is engaged for God’s truth shall never want God’s help. THE riLORIM'S PROGRESS. 235 Then said Groat-heart to Mr. Valiant-for- truth, Thou hast worthily behaved thyself; let me see the sword. So he showed it him. When lie had taken it into his hand and looked thereon a while, he said, Ha, it is a right Jerusalem blade. Valiant-far- truth. It is so. Let a man have one of these blades, with a hand to wield it and skill to use it, and he may venture upon an angel with it. He need not fear its holding if he can but tell how to lay on. Its edge will never blunt. It will cut flesh and bones, and soul and spirit, and all. Great- heart. But you fought a great while ; I wonder you were not weary. Valiant-for-truth. I fought till my sword did cleave to my hand, and then they were joined together, as if a sword grew out of my arm : and when the blood run through my fingers, then I fought with most courage.* Great-heart. Thou hast done well ; thou hast “ resisted unto blood, striving against sin thou slialt abide by us and come in and go out with us, for we are thy companions. Then they took him and washed his wounds, and gave him of what they had to refresh him, and so they went together. Now as they went on, because Mr. Great-heart was delighted in him, (for he loved one greatly that he found to be a man of his hands,) and because there were in company them that were feeble and weak, therefore he questioned with him about many things ; as, first, what countryman he was ? Valiant-for-truth. I am of Dark-land, for there 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 Destruc- tion ? Valiant-for-truth. Yes it doth. Now that which caused me to come on pilgrimage was this: we had Mr. Toll-true come int^o our parts, and he told us about what Christian had done that went from the city of Destruction— namely, how he had forsaken his wife and children, and had betaken himself to a pil- * Blessed fighting, when hand and heart are en- gaged, and the sword grows united to both ! 0 ye trimmers and lukewarm professors, who will tamely givo up or meanly compound for peace by the barter of truth, let this shame and confound you ! j- The reason why so many professors who set out go on for a season, but 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 grim’s life. It was also confidently reported how he had killed a serpent that did come out to resist him in his journey, and how he got through to whither he intended. It was also told what welcome he had 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 lie 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. Great-heart. You came in at the gate, did you not? Valiant-for-truth. Yes, yes; for the same man also told us that all would be nothing if we did not begin to enter this way at the gate.f Look you, said the guide to Christiana, the pilgrimage of your husband, and what he has gotten thereby, is spread abroad far and near. Valiant-for-truth. Why, is this Christian’s wife? Great-heart. Yes, that it is; and these are also her four sons. Valiant-for-truth. What! and going on pil- grimage too? Great-heart. Yes verily, they are following after. Valiant-for-truth. 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 be- fore him at the gates into the Celestial City! Great-heart. Without doubt it would be a comfort to him ; for, next to the joy of seeing himself there, it will be a joy to meet there his wife and children. Valiant-for-truth. But, now you -are upon that, pray let me hear your opinion about it. Some make a question whether we shall know one another when we are there. Great-heart. Do they think they shall know 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 in- quiry, Did you come in at the gate? A question wo ought to put to ourselves and be fully satisfied about. 236 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 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 he rationally concluded that we shall be more glad to see them there than to see they are wanting? Valiant-for-truth. Well, I perceive where- abouts you are as to this. Have you any more things to ask me about my beginning to come on pilgrimage? * Great-heart. Yes: was your father and mother willing that you should become a pil- grim ? Valiant-for-truth. Oh no; they used all means imaginable to persuade me to stay at home. Great-heart. What could they say against it? Valiant-for-truth. They said it was an idle life; and, if I myself were not inclined to sloth and laziness, I would never countenance a pil- grim’s condition. Great-heart. And what did they say else? Valiant-for-truth. Why, they told me that it was a dangerous way: yea, the most dangerous way in the world, say they, is that which the pilgrims go. Great-heart. Did they show you wherein this way is dangerous? Valiant-for-truth. Yes; and that in many particulars. Great-heart. Name some of them. Valiant-for-truth. They told me of the slough of Despond wherein Christian was wellnigh 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 Diffi- culty, of ,the lions, and also of the three giants, Bloody-man, Maul, and Slay-good; they said, moreover, that there was a foul fiend haunted the Valley of Humiliation; and that Christian was by him almost bereft of life. Besides, said they, you must go over the Valley of the Shadow of Death, where the hobgoblins are, where the light is darkness, where the way is full of snares, pits, traps, and gins. They told me also of Giant De- ' spair, 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. Great-heart.. And was this all? Valiant-for-truth. No : they also told me that this way was full of deceivers, and of persons that lay in wait there to turn good men out of their path. Great-heart. But how did they make that out? Valiant-for-truth. They told me that Mr. Worldly- wiseman did lie there in wait to de- ceive. They also said that there were For- mality and Hypocrisy continually on the road. They said also that By-ends, Talkative, or De- mas would go near to gather me up; that the Flatterer would catch mein his net; or that, with green-headed Ignorance, I would presume to go on to the gate, from whence he was sent back to the hole that was in the side of the hill, and made to go the by-way to hell. Great-heart. I promise you this was enough to discourage thee. But did they make an end there? Valiant-for-truth. 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 there that so many had so much talked of from time to time; and how they came back again and befooled themselves for setting a foot out of doors in that path, to the satisfaction of the country. And they named several that did so, as Obstinate and Pliable, Mistrust and Timor- ous, Turn-away and old Atheist, with several more; who, they said, had some of them gone far to see what they could find, but not one of them found so much advantage by going as amounted to the weight of a feather. Great-heart. Said they any thing more to discourage you ? Valiant-for-truth. Yes: they told me of one Mr. Fearing, who was a pilgrim: and how he found his way so solitary that he never had a comfortable hour therein; also that Mr. De- spondency had 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 drowned in the black river, and went never a foot further, however it was smothered up. * A souml Christian is not afraid to bo examined and sifted to the bottom, for he can give a reason of the hope that is in him. He knows why and where- fore ho commenced a pilgrim. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 237 Great-heart. And did none of those things discourage you? Vciliant-for-truth. No : they seemed as so many nothings to me. Great-heart How came that about? Valiant -for- truth. Why, I still believed what Mr. Tell-true had said, and that carried me beyond them all. Great-heart. Then this was your victory, even your faith. Va/iant-for-truth. It was so : I believed, and therefore came out, got into the way, fought all that set themselves against me, and by be- lieving am come to this place.* “ Who would true valour soc, Let him como hither; One hero will constant be, Como wind, como weather; Thcro’s no discouragement Shall make him onco relent llis first avow’d intent To bo a pilgrim. “ Whoso beset bim round With dismal stories, Do but themselves confound— His strength the more is ; No lion can him fright, He'll with a giant fight, But he will have a right To be a pilgrim. “ Hobgoblin nor foul fiend Can daunt his spirit; He knows he at the end Shall life inherit. Then, fancies, fly away, He’ll not fear what men say, He’ll labour night and day To be a pilgrim.” Bv this time they were got to the En- chanted Ground, where the air naturally tended to make one drowsy: and that place was all grown over with briers and thorns, excepting here and there where was an en- chanted 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- * Ilore 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 they give all the glory to Christ, who is the object, author, and finisher of faith. f Old pilgrims, ye who have set out well and go on well for a long soason, consider ye are yet in the heart went before, for that he was the guide, and Mr. Valiant-for-truth came behind, being rear-guard, for fear lest peradventure some fiend, or dragon, or giant, or thief should fall upon their rear, and so do mischief. They went on here, each man with his sword drawn in his hand, for they knew it was a dangerous place. Also they cheered up one another a3 well as they could; Feeble-mind, Mr. Great- heart commanded, should come up after him, and Mr. Despondency was under the eye of Mr. Valiant. f Now they had not gone far but a great mist and darkness fell upon them all, so that they could scarce, for a great while, one see the other; wherefore they were forced for some time to feel for one another by words, for they walked not by sight.J But any one must think that here was but sorry going for the best of them all, but how much the worse was it for the women and children, who both of feet and heart were also but tender ! Yet nevertheless so it was that through the en- couraging words of him that led in the front, and of him that brought them up be- hind, they made a pretty good shift to wag along. The way was also here very wearisome, through dirt and slabbiness. Nor was there on all this ground so much as one inn or vic- tualling-house wherein to refresh the feebler sort. Here therefore was grunting, and putt- ing, and sighing: while one tumbleth over a bush, another stieketh fast in the dirt ; and the children, some of them, lost their shoes in the mire : while one cries out, “ I am down ;” and another, “ Ho ! where are you ?” and a third, “ The bushes have got such fast hold on me, I think I cannot get away from them.” Then they came to an arbour, warm and promising much refreshing to the pilgrims, for it was finely wrought above head, beautified with greens, furnished with benches and set- tles. 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 began to be foiled with the badness of the way ; but there was not one of them world, which is enchanted ground. Know your dan- ger of seeking rest here or sleeping in any of its en- chauting arbours. j Though feelings may be lost, light seem to fail, and comforts forsake us, yet faith shall supply the want of all. Like Moses, we shall endure, seeing him who is invisible. Heb. xi. 27. 238 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. that made so much as a motion to stop there. Yea, for aught I could perceive, they contin- ually gave so good heed to the advice of their guide, and he did so faithfully tell them of dangers, and of the nature of dangers when they were at them, that usually, when they were nearest to them, they did most pluck up their spirits and hearten one another to deny the flesh." The arbour was called the Sloth- ful’s Friend, on purpose to allure, if it might be, some of the pilgrims there to take up their rest when weary. I saw then in my dream that they went on in this their solitary ground till they came to a place at which a man is apt to lose his way. Now, though when it was light their guide could well enough tell how to miss those ways that led wrong, yet in the dark he was put to a stand : but he had in liis pocket a map of all ways leading 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 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 probability been smoth- ered in the mud ; for just a little before them, and that at the end of the cleanest way too, was a pit, none knows how deep, full of noth- ing but mud, there made on purpose to destroy the pilgrims in. Then thought I with myself, Who that goeth on pilgrimage but would have one of these maps about him, that he may look when he is at a stand which is the way he must take? They went on, then, in this Enchanted Ground till they came to where there was an- other 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 ; and here, being wearied with 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 awake them. So they concluded to go to Deny yourselves,” is the word of Christ. The slothfulness, case, and desires of the flesh must be de- nied, or danger will inevitably ensue. To gratify the flesh is to destroy the Spirit’s comfort, if not the soul’s salvation. f It is the duty, and will be the practice, of pil- grims to strive to be instrumental to the good of others. them and awake them — that is, if they could; but with this caution, namely, to take heed that themselves did not sit down nor embrace the offered benefit of that arbour.f So they went in and spake to the men, and called each by his name, (for the guide, it seems, did know them,) but there was no voice nor answer. Then the guide did shake them and do what he could to disturb them. Then said one of them, “ I will pay you when I take my money.” At which .the guide shook his head. “ I will fight so long as I can hold my sword in my hand,” said the other. At that one of the children laughed. Then said Christiana, What is the meaning of this? Then the guide said, They talk in their sleep ; if you do strike them, or beat them, or whatever else you do unto 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.” Prov. xxiii. 34, 35. You know when men talk in their sleep they say any thing, but their words are not gov- erned 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 pil- grimage, 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 Enchanted 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 to these, that, as you see, are fallen asleep, and none can awake them.J 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 But at the same time it behooves them to take heed to themselves and watch, lest they catch harm from them and their conduct. J What a sound sleep of infatuation hath this en chanting world cast many a professor into ! They are proof against all warnings, and dead as to any means of arousing them. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 239 their way by the help of the light of a lantern. So he struck a light, and they went by the help of that through the rest of this way, though the darkness was very great.* 2 Pet. i. 19. But the children began to he sorely weary, and they cried out unto Him that loveth pil- grims to make their way more comfortable. So, by that they had gone a little further, a wind arose that drove away the fog; so the air became more clear. Yet they were not off, by much, of the Enchanted Ground, hut 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, with hands and eyes lifted up, and speaking, as they thought, earn- estly to one that was above. They drew nigh, but could not tell what he said ; so they went softly till he had done. When he had done, lie got up and began to run towards the Celes- tial City. Then Mr. Great-heart called after him, saying, “Soho, friend, let us have your company, if you go, as I suppose you do, to the Celestial City.” So the man stopped, and they came up to him : but so soon as Mr. Hon- est 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 where- abouts I dwelt ; his name is Standfast ; he is certainly a right good pilgrim.” So they came up one to another ; and pres- ently Mr. Standfast said to old Honest, “ Ho ! hither Honest, are you there?” “Ay, (said lie,) that I am, as sure as you are there.” “ Right glad am I (said Mr. Standfast) that I have found you on this road.” “And as glad am I (said the other) that I espied you on your knees.” Then Mr. Standfast blushed and said, “But why, did you see me?” “Yes, that I did, (quoth the other,) and with my heart was 1 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 we 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 * The 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, and kuows not what he does. 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 fear- eth always.’ ” f Valiant-for-truth. Well but, brother, I pray thee tell us what was it that was the cause of thy being upon thy knees even now? Was it for some obligations laid by sjiecial mercies upon thee, or how ? Standfast. Why, we arc, as you see, upon the Enchanted Ground ; and as I was coming along I was musing with myself of what a dan- gerous nature the road in this place was, and how many that had come even thus far on pilgrimage had here been stopped and been destroyed. I thought also of the manner of death with which this place destroyeth men. Those that die here die of no violent distem- lier : the death which such do die is not grievous to them ; for he that goeth away in a sleep be- gins that journey with desire and pleasure : yea, such acquiesce in the will of that disease. Then Mr. Honest, interrupting of him, said, Did you see the two men asleep in the arbour ? Standfast. Ay, ay, I saw Heedless and also Too-bold there; and for aught I know, that there they will lie until they rot, (rrov. x. 7 ;) but let me go on with my tale: As I was thus musing, as I said, there was one in pleasant attire, but old, who presented herself unto me, and offered me three things — to wit, her body, her purse, and her bed. Now the truth is, I was both weary and sleepy: I am also as poor as an owlet, and that perhaps the witch knew. Well, I repulsed her once and twice; but she put by my repulses and smiled. Then I began to be angry, but she mattered that nothing at all. Then she made offers again, and said, If I would be ruled by her she would make me great and happy : for, said she, I am the mis- tress 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 fur- ther 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 deliverance, for I verily f He who feareth always will pray evermore. The fear of the heart will bring pilgrims on their knees. He who fears to be or go wrong will pray to be set right. 240 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. believe sbe intended no good, but rather sought to make a stop of me in my journey.* Honest. Without doubt her designs were bad. But stay, now you talk of her methinks I either have seen her or have read some story of her. Standfast. Perhaps you have done both. Honest. Madam Bubble!, is she not a tall, comely dame, something of a swarthy com- plexion ? Standfast. Bight, you hit it ; she is just such an one. Honest. Doth she not speak very smoothly, and give you a smile at the end of every sen- tence? Standfast. You fall right upon it again, for these are her actions. Honest. Doth she not wear a great purse by her side? and is not her hand often in it finger- ing her money, as if that was her heart’s de- light? Standfast. ’Tis just 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. Honest. Then he that drew her picture was a good limner, and he that wrote of her said true. Great-heart. This woman is a witch ; and it is by virtue of her sorceries that this ground is enchanted : whoever doth lay their head down in her lap had as good lay it down upon that block over which the axe doth hang ; and who- ever lays their eyes upon her beauty are counted the 'enemies of God. James iv. 4; 1 John ii. 14, 15. This is she that maintaineth in their splendour all those that are the ene- mies 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 pre- ferring the excellencies of this life. She is a bold and impudent slut ; she will talk with any man. She always laughs poor pilgrims to scorn, but highly commends the rich. If there be one cunning to get money in a place, she will speak well of him from house to house. She loveth banquetting and feasting mainly * 0 pilgrims! beware of this Madam Bubble. Know and consider well that ye have a nature exactly suited to accept of her offers and to fall in love with her promises. The riches, honours, and pleasures of the world, what mortal can withstand 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 en- joyment of his love and presence, and therefore is continually looking and crying to him, “Turn away well ; she is always at one full table or another. She has given it out in some places that she is a goddess, and therefore some do worship her. She has her time and open places of cheating ; and' she will say, and avow it, that none can show a good comparable to hers. She prom- iseth 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 places and to some persons. She loves to be sought after, spoken well of, and to lie in the bosoms of men. She is never weary of commending her commodities, and she loves them most that think best of her. She will promise 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 ? f Great-heart. Whither! nay none but God knows. But, in general, to be sure she would have drawn thee into “ many foolish and hurt- ful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition.” 1 Tim. vi. 9. It was she that set Absalom against his father, and Jeroboam against his master. It was she that persuaded Judas to sell his Lord, and that prevailed with Demas to forsake the godly pilgrim’s life : none can tell of the mischief that she doth. She makes variance betwixt rulers and subjects, betwixt parents and children, betwixt neigh- bour 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 pil- grims a mixture of joy and trembling; but at length they brake out and sang — , “What danger is the pilgrim in ! How many are his foes ! How many ways there are to sin No living mortal knows. Some in the ditch spoil’d are, yea can Lie tumbling in the mire 1 Some, though they shun the frying-pan, Do leap into the fire.” mine eyes from beholding vanity. Instruct my Soul in thy way. Keep me closely following thee. Lord, thou art the portion of my soul 1” j- In the experience of this most excellent man we see verified God’s faithfulness in upholding and bring ing off more than conquerors all who “ call upon him in the day of trouble !” Oh for an increase of precious faith, to overcome the world, and to pass through it, in pursuit of a nobler portion, as strangers and pilgrims! THE Vila RIM'S PROGRESS. 241 CHAPTER XV. The Pilgrim arrive at the Land of Beulah, where they wait for ilie summons of their King . — Christiana 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 hind of Beulah, where the sun shineth night and day. Here, because they were weary, they betook themselves a while to rest: and because this country was common for pilgrims, and because 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 things. But a little while soon refreshed them here, for the bells did so ring, and the trumpets continually sounding so melodiously, that they could not sleep; and yet they received as much refresh- ing as if they slept their sleep never so soundly. Here also all the noise of them that walked in the streets was, “ More pilgrims are to come to town.” And another would answer, saying, “ And so many went over the water and were let iu at the golden gates to-day.” They would cry again, “There is now a legion of shining ones just come to town, by which we know that there are more pilgrims upon the road; for here they come to wait for them and com- fort them after their sorrow.” Then the pil- grims got up and walked to and fro : but how were their eyes now filled with celestial visions ! In this land they heard nothing, saw nothing, felt nothing, smelt nothing, tasted nothing that was offensive to their stomach or mind; only when they tasted of the water of the river over which they were to go they thought that tasted a little bitterish to the palate, but it proved sweet when it was down. In this place there was a record kept of the names of them that had been pilgrims of old, and a history of all the famous acts that they had done. It was here also much discoursed how the river to some has its flowings, and what ebbings it has had while others have gone over. It has been in a manner dry for some, while it has overflowed its banks for others. In this place the children of the town would go into the King’s gardens and gather nosegays for the pilgrims, and bring them to them with affection. Here also grew camphire, and spike- nard, saffron, calamus, and cinnamon, with all the trees of frankincense, myrrh, and aloes, with all chief spices. With these the pilgrims’ chambers were perfumed while they stayed 16 here, and with these were their bodies anoint- ed to prepare them to go over the river when the time appointed was come. Now while they lay here and waited for the good hour there was a noise in the town that there was a post come from the Celestial City with matters of great importance to one Chris- tiana, the wife of Christian the pilgrim. Bo inquiry was made for her, and the house was found out where she was ; so the post presented her with a letter; the contents were, “Hail, good woman ! I bring thee tidings that the Master calletli for thee, and expectcth that thou shouldest stand in his presence in clothes of immortality within these ten days.” When he had read this letter to her he gave her therewith a sure token that he was a true messenger, and was come to bid her make haste to be gone. The token was an arrow sharp- ened with love, let easily into her heart, which by degrees wrought so effectually with her that at the time appointed she must be gone. When Christiana saw that her time was come, and that she was the first of this com- pany that was to go over, she called for Mr. Great-heart, her guide, and told him how matters were. So he told her he was heartily glad of the news, and could have been glad had the post come for him. Then she bid 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 thee to the river-side. Then she called for her children and gave them her blessing, and told them that she had read with comfort the mark that was set in their foreheads, and was glad to see them with her there, and that they had kept their gar- ments so white. Lastly, she bequeathed to the poor that little she had, and commanded her sons and daughters to be ready against the messenger should come for them. When she had spoken these words to her guide and to her children, she called for Mr. Yanant-for-truth and said unto him, “ Sir, you have in all places showed yourself true-hearted : be faithful unto death, and my King will give you a crown of life. I would also entreat you to have an eye to my children, and if at any 242 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. time you see tliem faint, speak comfortably to them. For my daughters, my sons’ wives, they have been faithful, and a fulfilling of the pro- mise upon them will be their end.” But she gave Mr. Standfast a ring. Then she called for old Mr. Honest, and said of him, “Behold an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” 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 thou thinkst not, the messenger may come.” After him came in Mr. Despondency and his daughter Mucli-afraid; to whom she said, “You ought with thankfulness for ever to re- member your deliverance 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 cast away fear: be sober and hope to the end.” Then she said to Mr. Feeble-mind, “Thou wast delivered from the mouth of Giant Slay- good that thou miglrtest live in the light of the living for ever, and see the King with com- fort: only I advise thee to repent thee of thy aptness to fear and doubt of his goodness, be- fore he sends for thee, lest thou shouldst, when he comes, be forced to stand before him for that fault with blushing.” Now the day drew on that Christiana must be gone. So the road was full of people to see her take her journey. But behold all the banks beyond the river were full of horses and chariots, which were come down from above to accompany her to the city gate. So she came forth, and entered the river with a beckon of farewell to those that followed her 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 '*■ Oh how blessed is the death of the righteous who die in the Lord ! Even a wicked Balaam could wish for this. But it will be granted to none but those who have lived in the Lord, whose souls have been quick- ened by his Spirit, to come unto Jesus, believe in him, and glory of him as their righteousness and salvation, place, for that those that waited for Chris- tiana had carried her out of their sight. So she went and called, and entered in at the gate with all the ceremonies of joy that her husband Christian had entered with before her. At her departure the children wept. But Mr. Great-heart and Mr. Valiant-for-truth played upon the well-tuned cymbal and harp for joy. So all departed to their respective places.* In process of time there came a post to the town again, and his business was with Mr. Ready-to-halt. So he inquired 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.” Eccles. xii. 1, 7. After this Mr. Ready-to-halt called for his fellow-pilgrims, and told them, saying, “I am sent for, and God shall surely visit you also.” So he desired Mr. Valiant-for-truth to make his will; and because he had nothing to be- queath to them that should survive him but his crutches and his good wishes, therefore thus he said, “These crutches I bequeath to my son that shall tread in my steps, with an hundred warm wishes that he may prove better than I have been.” Then he thanked Mr. Great-heart for his conduct and kindness, and so addressed him- self 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 arc chariots and horses for me to ride on.” The last words he was heard to say were, “Welcome, life!”f So he went his way. After this Mr. Feeble-mind had tidings brought him that the post sounded his horn at his chamber door. Then he came in and told him, saying, “ I am come to tell thee that thy Master hath need of thee, and that in a very little time thou must behold his face in bright- ness. And take this as a token of the truth and desire to be found in him, in life, in death, and at the bar of judgment. Oh may we cry to the Lord to make us of the happy number! f See the joyful end of one ready to halt at every step. Take courage hence, ye lame, halting pil- grims. THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS. 243 of my message: 'Those that look out at the windows, shall be darkened.”’ Then Mr. Feeble-mind called for his friends, and told them what errand had been brought unto him, and what token he had received of the truth of the message. Then he said, “Since I have nothing to bequeath to any, to what purpose 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 whither I go, nor is it worth bestowing upon the poorest pilgrim; wherefore when I am gone I desire that you, Mr. Valiant-for-truth, would bury it in a dunghill.” This done, and the day being come in which he was to depart, he entered the river as the rest: his last words were, “llokl 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 to be with the King by the next Lord’s day, to shout for joy for thy deliverance j from all thy doubtings.” And, said the mes- j senger, that my message is true, take this for i a proof: so he gave “a grasshopper to be a burden unto him.” Now Mr. Despondency’s daughter, whose name was Much-afraid, said, when she had heard what was done, that she would go with her father. Then Mr. Despond- ency 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 with you, they are guests which we entertained when we first began to be pilgrims, and could never shake them off after; and they will walk about and seek en- tertainment of the pilgrims ; but for our sakes shut the doors upon them.” * When the time was come for them to depart they went up to the brink of the river. The last words of Mr. Despondency were, “Fare- * Pilgrims, mind this. It is as much your duty to strive in the strength of the Lord against unreason- able doubts as slavish fears against sin. Nay, are they not, in their own nature, the worst of sins, as they spring from infidelity, and dishonour God's pre- oious truth, glorious grace, and everlasting salvation ? Never, never, then, cherish or give way to them, but resist and shut the door of your hearts against them. well, 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 be was, and delivered to his hands these lines: “Thou art commanded to be ready against this day se’n-night, to present thyself before thy Lord at his Father’s house. And, for a token that my message is true, ‘ All the daughters of music shall be brought low.’ ” Then Mr. Honest called for his friends, and said unto them, “ I die, but shall make no will. As for my honesty, it shall go with me; let him that comes after be told of this.” When the day that he was to be gone was come lie. addressed himself to go over the river. Now the river at that time overflowed the banks in some places ; but Mr. Honest in his lifetime had spoken to one Good-conscience to meet him there; the which he also did, and lent him his hand, and so helped him over. The last words of Mr. Honest were, “ Grace reigns.” So he left the world. f After this it was noised about that Mr. Val- iant-for-truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other, and had this for a ! token that the summons was true, that “his | pitcher was broken at the fountain.” When he understood it be called for his friends and told them of it. Then said he, “I am going to my Father’s; and though with great diffi- culty I got hither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I have been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that shall suc- ceed me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that can get them. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battles who will now be my rewarder.” When the day that he must go hence was come many accompanied him to the river-side, into which as he went he said, “Death, where is thy sting?” and as he went down deeper, he said, “Grave, where is thy victory?” So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.J f Oh 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 res- urrection of Jesus. And they shall reign with him in his kingdom. J In the truth of Jesus is victory. He who is most valiant for it shall share the most of its comforts in life and in death. 0 Lord, increase our faith in the 244 BUXYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Then there came forth a summons for Mr. Standfast. This Mr. Standfast was he that the pilgrims found upon his knees in the En- chanted Ground, and the post brought it him open in his hands : the contents whereof were, that he must prepare for a change of life, for his Master was not willing that he should be so far from him any longer. At this, Mr. Standfast was put into a muse. “ Nay,” said the messenger, “you need not doubt of the truth of my message, for here is a token of the truth thereof: ‘Thy wheel is broken at the cistern.’ ” 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 pil- grimage, yet since the time I knew you you have been profitable to me. When I came from home I left behind me a wife and five small children ; let me entreat you at your re- turn (for I know that you go and return to your Master’s house, in hopes that you may he a conductor to more of his holy pilgrims) that you send to my family and let them be ac- quainted with all that hath and shall happen unto me. Tell them, moreover, of my happy arrival at this place, and of the present and fete blessed condition that I am in. Tell them also of Christian and Christiana his wife, and how she and her children came after her hus- band. 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- venture 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 half-way in, stood awhile and talked to his companions that had waited upon him thither; and he said, “This river has been a terror to many ; yea, the thoughts of it also have fright- ened me ; now, methinks, I stand easy ; my foot is fixed upon that on which the feet of the never-failing word of truth and grace, for thy glory and our soul’s triumph. * Oh the blessedness and joy of faith ! How does it bring near and realize a view of Christ in glory ! Do we indeed see Christby the eye of faith? Is- he the one chief object of our souls? Is he precious to us? Verily, then, we shall count our days on earth toilsome ones, and long for the full fruition of him in glory I* will be our great glory to see Him whose priests that bare the ark of the covenant stood while Israel went over this Jordan. Josh. iii. 17. The waters, indeed, are to the palate bit- ter and to the stomach cold ; yet the thought of wh'at I am going to, and of the conduct that waits for me on the other side, does lie as a glowing coal at my heart. I see myself now at the end of my journey : my toilsome days are ended. I am going to see that head that was crowned with thorns, and that face that was spit upon for me.* * T have formerly lived by hearsay and faith, but now I go where I shall live by sight, and shall be with Him in whose company I delight myself. I have loved to hear my Lord spoken of, and where- ever I have seen the print of his shoe in the earth, there I have coveted to set my foot too.f His name has been to me as a civet-box; yea, sweeter than all perfumes. His voice to me has been most sweet, and his countenance I have more desired than they that have most desired the light of the sun. His words I did use to gather for my food, and for antidotes against my faintings. He has held me and hath kept me from mine iniquities ; yea, my steps have been strengthened in his way.” Now, while he was thus in discourse his countenance changed ; his “ strong man bowed under him:” and after he had said, “Take me, for I am come unto thee,” he ceased to he seen of them. But glorious it vvas to see how the open re- gion was filled with horses and chariots, with trumpeters and pipers, with singers and players on stringed instruments, to welcome the pilgrims as they went up and followed , one another in at the beautiful gate of the city. As for Christiana’s children, the four hoys that Christiana brought, with their wives and children, I did not stay where I was till they were gone over. Also since I came away I heard one say they were yet alive, and so would be for the increase of the Church in that place where they were for a time. blessed head was crowned with thorns, and whose lovely face was spit upon for us; till then, let us live by faith in him, constantly crying, “Come, Lord Je- sus, come quickly.” f Can you say this ? Do you love to hear of the precious name of Jesus? Do you covet to follow him and to tread in his steps ? Oh what has grace wrought! Be humble before Jesus. Be joyful in him and thankful to him. THE riLG RIM'S PROGRESS. 245 Shall it he my lot to go that way again, I may give those that desire it an account of * Who cnn read this chaptor (observes the Rev. Mr. Border) without exclaiming in words onco received from heaven," Blessed are the dead whioli dio in the Lord: yea, saith tho Spirit, that they may rest from their labours!” In tho important article of dentil tho privileges of believers appear distinguishing indeed. To human nature, unassisted by grace, death, tho awful punishment of sin, is " the king of terrors.” Bitter indeed, and insupportnbly painful, are the thoughts of death to men who have their “portion in this life” and who are at ease in their possessions. How horrible to be torn away from all they love, and plunged at onco into the unutterable miseries of the damned ! How enviable, even to such, is the calm and serene frame of a dying saint! Hero the monster seems to have lost his sting, having left it in the bleeding body of Jesus. Heath has changed its na- turo and its namo. Call it no more death ; it is tho sweet sleep of tho body, deposited in its earthly bed, under the oye of tho Redeemer, till the morning of the resurrection. what I am here silent about; mean time, 1 bid my reader Farewell.* At tho close of this excellent book (says the excel- lent Mr. Mason) let me address one word, reader, to your soul and mine. What think we 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! eomfortablo living! joyful dy- ing! Now, hnve wo part and lot in this matter? Is Christ our life — the life of our souls? If ho is, we shall live by faith upon him, rely on his atonement, glory in his rightoousness, 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, longing, and waiting for his coming to receive us to himself, that where he is there wo may be also. As many as live by this faith and walk according to this rule, peaco be on them from the holy, blessed, and glorious Trinity! Amen. CHRISTIAN BEHAVIOUR: BEING THE FRUITS OF TRUE CHRISTIANITY. TEACHING HUSBANDS, WIVES, PARENTS, CHILDREN, MASTERS, SERVANTS, ETC., HOW TO WALK SO AS TO PLEASE GOD. WITH A WORD OF DIRECTION TO ALL BACKSLIDERS. THE EPISTLE TO THE READER. Courteous Reader : Having formerly writ some small matter teaching the doctrine of faith, as justification by grace through the faith of Christ’s blood', &c., I do here, as the second to that doctrine, present tliee with a few lines touching good works, that I might, as at first I showed thee the good and glory of the one, now show thee the beauty and excellency of the other: “For though we are justified (Rom. iii. 24, &c.) freely by grace through Christ before God; yet we are justified before men (James ii. 18) by our works.” Nay, a life of holiness, flowing from faith in us that are saved by grace, it doth justify that grace before the world that justifies us before God. 2 Cor. vi. 2, 3; ix. 12, 13; 1 Pet. ii. 11, 12. I have here not only in general treated of this doctrine of good works, but particularly (after some discourse about works flowing from faith, and what makes it true and gospelly good) I discourse of them as we stand under our several relations in this world among men. As first, The duty of the master of a family ; of the husband to his wife, and of hers to him ; of the duty of parents to their children, and of children to their parents ; of masters also to their servants, and of the servant again to his master; with a brief touch upon good neighbourhood, and a discovery of c ovetousness, pride, and uncleanness, which are great obstructions to a truly gospel con- versation. I know there are many that have treated of good works in large and learned discourses ; but I doubt all have not so gospelized their discourse as becomes them, and as the doctrine of the grace of God calleth for. However, I thought it my duty to add this discourse to all that are past; and that for these reasons: 1. To take away those aspersions that the adversaries cast upon our doctrine, (Rom. iii. 8, as also in the days of Paul,) that because we preach justification without the works of the law, therefore they pretend we plead for looseness of life, whose damnation is just. 2. Because, though there be much discourse about works in general, yet a particular dis- course of them, as before is touched, is too much neglected ; and by this means every one too much left at uncertainties (as from them) of their several works under their particular relations ; which I think is one reason of that disorder iii families and places where God’s people live, to their shame and the dishonour of God. 3. Because these few books that do par- ticularly treat thus of good works are, I think, now so scarce or so big that but few have them and few buy them, if they may be had, especially our new converts, for whose 247 248 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. sates principally this short discourse is in- tended ; and indeed, this is one reason of my brevity, that the price might neither be burden- some, nor the reading long and tedious. Mul- titude of words drown the memory; and an exhortation in few words may yet be so full that the reader may find that in the side of a sheet which some are forced to hunt for in a whole quire, &c. The Lord teach us this wisdom. 4. I have written this book to show that I bear a fellow testimony and witness (with all that know God) of the operation that grace hath and will have in the heart that hath savingly received it. Lastly. I have thus written because it is amiable and pleasant to God when Christians keep their rank, relation, and station, doing- all as become their quality and calling. When Christians stand every one in their places, and do the work of their relations, then they are like the flowers in the garden, that stand and grow where the gardener hath planted them, and then they shall both honour the garden in which they are planted, and the gardener that hath so disposed of them. From the hyssop in the wall to the cedar in Leb- anon their fruit is their glory. And seeing the flock into- which we are planted is the fruitfullest flock, the sap conveyed thereout the fruitfullest sap, and the dresser of our souls the wisest husbandman (John xv. 1), how contrary to nature, to example, and ex- pectation should we be if we should not be rich in good works ! Wherefore take heed of being painted fire wherein is no warmth, and painted flowers which retain no smell, and of being painted trees whereon is no fruit; “Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain.” Prov. xxv. 14. Farewell. The Lord be with thy spirit, that thou mayst profit for time to come. JOHN BUNYAN. CHRISTIAN BEHAVIOUR, That being justified by his grace, wo should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life. This is a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm constantly, that they which bare believed In God might bo careful to maintain good works : these things are good and profitable unto men. — Tit. iii. 7, S. I shall not at this time discourse of every particular at large included in these words, but shall briefly fall upon those things that I judge most necessary for the people of God. Neither shall I need to take any great preamble to the words for their explication, they themselves being plain, and without that ambiguity that calleth for such a thing; the general scope being this, That they which have believed in God should be careful to maintain good works. But yet, to prosecute what I intend with what clearness I may, I shall in a word or two make way for what is to be the main of this book. “This is a faithful saying.” This — which? Why, that which goetli before, namely, “ That being justified by grace, we should be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life. This is a faithful saying, and these things I will that thou affirm constantly.” Why so ? Why, “That they which have believed in God might be careful to maintain good works.” The meaning is, that the way to provoke others to good works is constantly (in the evi- dence and demonstration of the Spirit) to show them the certainty of their being by grace made heirs of eternal life. From this Scripture I do gather these things observable : 1. That good works do flow from faith. Yea, 2. That every one that believetli should be careful that their works be good. 3. That every believer should not only be careful that their works be good, and for the present do them, but should also be careful to maintain them ; that is, they should carefully study to keep in a constant course of good works. And lastly, that the best way to provoke both ourselves and others to this work is to be often affirming to others the doctrine of justi- fication by grace, and to believe it ourselves : “ Tills is a faithful saying, and these things I will (saith Paul) that thou affirm constantly, that they who have believed in God might be careful to maintain good works.” I. I begin with the first: That good works do flow from faith. This is evident divers ways: 1. From the impossibility of their flowing from any other thing — they must either flow from faith or not at all ; “ For whatsoever is not of faith is sin.” And again, “Without faith it is impossible to please him.” Every man by nature, before faith, is an evil and a corrupt tree ; and a cor- rupt tree cannot bring forth good fruit: “Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of this- tles?” Now a man is made good by faith, and by that bringeth forth the fruits that are ac- ceptable to God. Wherefore sinners, before faith, are com- pared to the wilderness, whose fruits are briers and thorns ; and whose hearts are the habita- tion of dragons — that is, of devils. And hence again it is that they are said to be Godless, Christless, Spiritless, faithless, hopeless ; without the covenant of grace, with- out strength ; enemies in their minds by wicked works, and possessed by the spirit of wicked- ness as a castle by a conqueror. Now, these things being thus, it is impossi- ble that all the men under heaven that are un- converted should be able to bring forth one work rightly good ; even as impossible as for all the briers and thorns under heaven to bring forth one cluster of grapes or one bunch of figs; for indeed they want the qualification. A thorn bringeth not forth figs, because it wanteth the nature of the fig tree ; and so doth the bramble, the nature of the vine. Good works must come from a good heart. Now, this the unbeliever wanteth because 248 250 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. lie wanteth faith ; for it is that which purifieth the heart. Good works must come from love to the Lord Jesus; but this the unbeliever wanteth also, because he wanteth faith : “For faith worketh by love, and by that means doth good.” And hence again it is that though the carnal man doth never so much which he calleth good, yet it is rejected, slighted, and turned as dirt in his face again : his prayers are abominable, his ploughing is sin, and all his righteous- nesses as filthy rags. Thus you see that with- out faith there are no good works. hi ow then to show you that they flow from faith. And that, For that faith is a principle of life, by which a Christian lives — a principle of motion, by which he walks towards heaven in the way of holiness. It is also a principle of strength, by which the soul opposeth its lust, the devil, and this world, and overcomes them : “ This is your victory, even your faith.” Faith in the heart of a Christian is like the salt that was thrown into the corrupt fountain, that made the naughty waters good and the barren land fruit- ful. Faith, when it is wrought in the heart, is like leaven hid in the meal, or like perfume that lighteth upon stinking leather, turning the smell of the leather into the savour of the perfume ; it being then planted in the heart and having its natural inclination to holiness. Hence it is that there followeth an alteration of the life and conversation, and so bringeth forth fruit accordingly : “A good man, out of the good treasure of his heart, bringeth forth good fruit.” Which treasure, I say, is this faith, and therefore it is that faith is called the faith according to godliness and the most holy faith. Good works must needs [flow from faith or no way, because that alone carrieth in it an argument sufficiently prevalent to win upon our natures, to make them comply with holi- ness. Faith show r eth us that God loveth us, that he forgiveth us our sins, that he accounteth us foi his children, having freely justified us through the blood of his Son. Faith receiveth the promise, embraceth it, and comforteth the soul unspeakably with it. Faith is so great an artist in arguing and reasoning with the soul that it will bring over the hardest heart that it hath to deal with. It will bring to my remembrance at once both my vileness against God and his goodness to- wards me; it will show me that though I deserve not to breathe in the air, yet that God will have me an heir of glory. Now, there is no argument greater than this. This will make a man run through ten thousand difficulties to answer God (though he never can) for the grace he hath bestowed on him. Further, faith will show me how distin- guishing^ this love of God hath set itself upon me: it will show me that though Esau was Jacob’s brother, yet he loved Jacob; that though there were thousands more besides me that were as good as me, yet I must be the man that must be chosen. Now this, I say, is a marvellous argument, and unspeakably prevaileth with the sinner, as saith the apostle : “ For the love of Christ constrains us, because we thus judge, That if one died for all, then were all dead; and that he died for all, that they which live (that is, by faith) should not henceforth live unto themselves, but to Him that died for them and rose again.” “Love (saith the wise man) is strong as death ; many wrnters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it. If a man ■would give all the substance of his house for love, it would be utterly contemned.” Oh ! w r hen the broken, dying, condemned soul can but see, by faith, the love of a tender- hearted Saviour, and also see what he under- went to deliver it from under that death, guilt, and hell that now r it feels and fears, which also it knoweth it hath most justly and highly de- served, “ Then bless the Lord, 0 my soul ; and what shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits ?” Thus faith is a prevailing argument to the sinner, vdiereby he is fetched off from w r hat he w 7 as, and constrained to bend and yield to u'liat before he neither would nor could. And hence it is that gospel-obedience is called the obedience of faith, as well as obe- dience to the faith. Rom. xvi. 26. For it must be by the faith of Christ in my heart that I submit to the word of faith in the Bible, other- wise all is to no profit; as saith the apostle : “The word preached did not profit them, it not being mixed with faith in them that heard it.” Heb. iv. 2. For faith alone can see the reality of what the Gospel saith, and so, I say, argue over the heart to the embracing of it. 3. Faith is such a grace as will represent to the soul all things in their proper colours. Ii doth not (as doth unbelief and ignorance) show us all things out of order, putting dark- ness for light, and bitter for sweet, but will set CHRISTIAN RRII A VIO UR. 251 everything in its proper place before our eyes: God and Christ shall he with it the chicfest good, the most lovely and amiable ; a heavenly life shall he of greater esteem and more desir- able than all the treasures of Egypt. Right- eousness and sanctification will he the thing after which it will most vehemently press, be- cause it seeth not only death and damnation ns the fruits of sin, hut sin also in itself, dis- tinct from the punishment belonging to it, a detestable, horrible, and odious thing. By faith we see this world hath no abiding in it for us, nor no satisfaction if it were other- wise; and hence it is that the people of God have groaned to be gone from hence into a state that is both sinless and temptationless ; and hence it is again that they have run through so many trials, afflictions, and adver- sities, even because of that love to holiness of life that faith being in their hearts did prompt them to, by showing them the worth and dur- ableness of that which was good, and the irk- someness and evil of all things else. 4. Faith layeth hold of that which is able to help the soul to bring forth good works: it layeth hold of and engagetli the strength of Christ, and by that overcometh that which op- presseth : “ I can do all things through Christ that strengtheneth me.” In a word, a life of holiness and godliness in this world doth so inseparably follow a prin- ciple of faith that it is both monstrous and ridiculous to suppose the contrary. What! shall not he that hath life have motion ? He that hath by faith received the spirit of holiness, shall not he be holy? (Gal. iii. 2;) and he that is called to glory and virtue, shall not he add to his faith virtue? 2 Pet. i. 4, 5. We are by faith made good trees, and shall not we bring forth good fruit ? Luke vi. 43. They that believe are created in Christ Jesus unto good works ; and God hath, before the world was, ordained that we should walk in them : and shall both our second creation and God’s foreordination be made frustrate? Besides, the children of faith are the children of light and of the day — lights upon a hill and candles on a candlestick — and shall not they shine? They are the salt of the earth, shall not they be seasoning? The believer is the alone man by whom God showeth to the world the power of his grace,' the operation of his people’s faith, &c. The unbelievers read indeed of the power of grace, of the faith, hope, love, joy, peace, and sanctification of the heart of the Christian, but they feel nothing of that sin-killing oper- ation that is in these things: these are to them as a story of Rome or Spain. Where- fore, to show them in others what they find not in themselves, God worketh faith, hope, love, &c., in a generation that shall serve him ; and by them they shall see what they cannot find in themselves, and by this means they shall be convinced that though sin and the pleasures of this life be sweet to them, yet there is a people otherwise minded, even such a people that do indeed see the glory of that which others read of, and from that light take pleasure in those things which they are most averse unto. To this, I say, are Christians called ; herein is God glorified ; hereby are sinners convinced, and by this is the world condemned. Objection. But if faith doth so naturally cause good works, what then is the reason that God’s people find it so hard a matter to be faithful in good works? I answer — 1. God’s people are fruitful in good works according to the proportion of their faith; if they be slender in good works, it is because they are weak in faith. Little faith is like small candles or weak fire, which, though they shine and have heat, yet have but dim shining and small heat when com- pared with bigger candles and greater fire. The reason why Sardis had some in it whose works were not perfect before God was, be- cause they did not hold fast by faith the word that they had formerly heard and received. 2. There may be a great mistake in our judging of our own fruitfulness. The soul that indeed is candid and right at heart is taught by grace to judge itself, though fruit- ful, yet barren upon two accounts: 1. When it compareth its life to the mercy bestowed upon it; for when a soul doth indeed consider the greatness and riches of the mercy bestowed upon it, then it must needs cry out, “ 0 wretched man that I am!” for it seeth itself wonderfully to fall short of a conversation be- coming one who hath received so great a bene- fit. 2. It may also judge itself barren because it falleth so far short of that it would attain unto; it cannot do the thing that it would. The heart of a Christian is naturally very barren ; upon which, though the seed of grace (that is, the fruitfullest of all seeds) be sown, yet the heart is naturally subject to bring forth weeds. Now, to have a good crop upon such ground doth argue the fruitfulness of the 252 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. seed. Wherefore I conclude upon these three things : I. That the seed of faith is a very fruitful seed, in that it will be fruitful in so barren a soil. 2. That faith is not beholden to the heart, but the heart to it, for all its fruit- fulness. 3. That therefore the way to be a more fruitful Christian is to be stronger in believing. II. Now for the second thing: to wit, That everyone that believeth should be careful that their works be good. This followeth from what went just before: to wit, That the heart of a Christian is a heart subject to bring forth weeds. r . There is flesh as well as spirit in the best of saints ; and as the spirit of grace will be always putting forth something that is good, so the flesh will be putting forth continually that which is evil. “ For the flesh lusteth against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh.” Now, this considered, is the cause why you find so often in the Scriptures so many items and cautions to the Christians to look to their lives and conversation. As, “ Keep thy heart with all diligence;” “Watch ye, stand fast in the faith; ’quit you like men ; be strong;” “ Be not deceived, God is not mocked ; for whatever a man soweth, that shall he reap: for he that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption ; but he that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting.” All works are not good that seem to be so. It is one thing for a man’s ways to be right in his own eye, and another for them to be right in God’s. Often that which is in high estima- tion with men is abomination in the sight of God. Seeing corruption is not yet out of our natures, there is a proneness in us to build upon the right foundation, wood, hay and stubble, instead of gold, and silver, and pre- cious stones. How was David the king, Nathan the prophet, and Uzza the priest de- ceived touching good works ! Peter also, in both his defending his Master in the garden and in dissuading him from his sufferings, though both out of love and affection to his Master, was deceived touching good works. Many have miscarried both as to doctrine, worship, and the prosecution of each. 1. For doctrine. Christ tells the Jews that they taught for the doctrines of God the doc- trines and traditions of men : as also, saith the apostle, “They teach things they ought not, for filthy lucre’s sake.” 2. Also touching worship, we find how frequently men have mistaken, both for time, place, and matter, with which they wor- shipped. (1.) For time. It hath been that which man hath devised, not that which God hath com- manded. They change the ordinances, saith Isaiah; they change God’s judgments into wickedness, saith Ezekiel. (2.) For place. When they should have worshipped at Jerusalem, they worshipped at Bethel, at Gilgal, and Dan, in gardens, under poplars and elms. (3.) For the matter with which they wor- shipped. Instead of bringing according to the commandment, they brought the lame, torn, and the sick ; they would sanctify them- selves in gardens with swine’s flesh and mice, w'hen they should have done it at Jerusalem with bullocks and lambs. Again, touching men’s prosecuting their zeal for their worship, &c., that they do think right how hot hath it been, though with no reason at all. Nebuchadnezzar will have his fiery furnace and Darius his lions’ den for non-con- formists. Again, they have persecuted men even to strange cities, have laid traps and snares in every corner to entrap and to entangle their words ; and if they could at any time but kill the persons that dissented from them, they would think they did God good service. But what need we to look so far from home, (were it not that I would seal my sayings with truth?) We need look no farther, to affirm this position, than the papists and their companions. How many have they in all ages hanged, burned, starved, drowned, racked, dismembered, and murdered, both openly and in secret ! and all under a pretence of God, his worship, and good works. Thus you see how wise men and fools, saints and sinners, Christians and heathen, have erred in the business of good works ; wherefore every one should be careful to see that their works be good. Now 7 , then, to prevent, if God will, miscar- riage in this matter, I shall propound unto you what it is for a work to be rightly good : 1. A good work must have the word for its authority. 2. It must, as afore was said, flow from faith. 3. It must be both rightly timed and rightly placed. 4. It must be done will- ingly, cheerfully, &c. CHRISTIAN BEHA VI OUR. 253 1. Tt must lutve the word for its authority. Zeal without knowledge is like a mottled horse without eyes or like a sword in a mad- man’s hand, and there is no knowledge where there is not the word : for if they reject the word of the Lord, and act not by that, what wisdom is in them? said the prophet. Jer. viii. 9; Isa. viii. 20. Wherefore see thou have the w ord for what thou dost. 2. As there must he the word for the author- izing of what thou dost, so there must be faith, from which it must flow, as I showed thee be- fore ; “for whatever is not of faith is sin : and without faith it is impossible to please God.” Now I say without the word there is no faith, (Rom. x. 17,) as without faith there is no good, let men’s pretences be wliat they will. 3. As it must have these two aforenamed, so also it must have — 1. right time; and 2. right place. 1st. It must be rightly timed. Every work is not to l*e done at the same time, every time not being convenient for such a work : “ There is a time for all things, and every thing is beautiful in its time.” Eceles. iii. 11. There is a time to pray, a time to hear, a time to read, a time to confer, a time to meditate, a time to do, and a time to suffer. Now, to be hearing when we should be preaching and doing — that is, yielding active obedience to that under which we ought to suffer — is not good. Christ was very wary that both his doings and suffer- ings were rightly timed. John ii. 3, 4 and xiii. 1, 2. And herein we ought to follow his steps. To be at plough in the field when I should be hearing the word is not good; and to be talk- ing abroad when I should be instructing my family at home is as bad: “Whoso keepeth the commandment shall feel no evil thing: and a wise man’s heart disccrneth both time and judgment.” Eccles. viii. 5. Good things mistimed are fruitless, unprofitable, and vain. 2dly. As things must have their right time, so they must be rightly placed; for the mis- placing of any work is as bad as the mistiming of it. When I say things if good must be rightly placed. I mean we should not give to any work more than the word of God alloweth it, neither should we give it less. Mint, anise, and cum- min are not so weighty matters as faith and the love of God, as in Matt. xxii. 23. For a pastor to be exercising the office of a deacon instead of the office of a pastor, it is mispla- cing of works. Acts vi. 2. For Martha to be making outward provision for Christ when she should have set at his feet to hear his word was the misplacing a work : and her sister to have done it at her request (though the thing in itself was good) had been her sin also. Farther, there are three things that a man should have in his eye in every work he doth : 1st. The honour of God. 2dly. The edifica- tion of his neighbour. 3dly. The expediency or inexpediency of what I am to do. And always observe it that the honour of God is wrapped up in the edification of thy neigh- bour; and the edification of thy neighbour in the expediency of what thou dost. Again, if thou wouldst walk to the edifica- tion of thy neighbour, and so to God’s honour in the midst of thy observers, beware — 1st. That thou in thy words and carriages dost so demean thyself that Christ in his pre- vious benefits may be with clearness spoken forth by thee; and take heed that thou dost not enter into doubtful points with them that are weak, but deal chiefly, lovingly, and wisely with their consciences about those matters that tend to their establishment in the faith of their justification and deliverance from death and. hell : “ Comfort the feeble-minded, confirm the weak.” 2dly. If thou be stronger than thy brother, take heed that thou do not that before him that may offend his weak conscience ; I mean things that to themselves may be lawful : “ All that is lawful is not expedient ; all that is law- ful edifietli not.” Wherefore here is thy wis- dom and love, that thou in some things deny thyself for thy brother’s sake. “ I will not eat meat while the world standeth, (said Paul,) lest I make my brother to offend. Wherefore have this faith to thyself before God.” But if thou walk otherwise, know thou walkest not charitably, and so not to edification, and so not to Christ’s honour, but dost sin against Christ and wound thy weak brother, for whom Christ died. But I say all this while keep thy eye upon the word : take heed of going contrary to that under any pretence whatever; for without the word there is nothing to God’s glory nor thy brother’s edification. Wherefore, walk wisely in a perfect way. Having thus, in few words, showed you what are works rightly good, I beseech you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ that you put yourselves into a conscientious perform- ance of them, that you may, while you live here, be vessels of honour, fit for the Master’s 2o4 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. use and prepared to every good work. Study to approve tilings that are excellent, that you may be sincere and without offence until the day of Christ: covet communion with God, covet earnestly the best gifts. Ah ! we that are redeemed from among men, and that re- joice in the hope of the glory of God — we that look, I say, for the blessed hope and the glori- ous appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ — what manner of persons should we be in all holy conversation and godliness ! To conclude, for your further edification, take a plain rehearsal of your several general duties and works, to which God engageth you in his word, according to your places, callings, and relations in this world. TOUCHING THE MASTER OF A FAMILY. If thou have under thee a family, then thou art to consider the several relations thou stand- est under, and art to know that thou in each of them hast a work to do for God, and that he expecteth thy faithful deportment under every one of them. As, First, then, in general: He that is the master of a family hath, as under that, rela- tion, a work to do for God ; to wit, the right governing of his own family. And his work is twofold. 1. Touching the spiritual state thereof. 2. Touching the outward. As touching the spiritual state of his family, he ought to be very diligent and circumspect, doing his utmost endeavour both to increase faith where it is begun and to begin it where it is not. Wherefore, to this .end, he ought diligently and frequently to lay before his household such things of God, out of his word, as are suitable for each particular. And let no man question his rule in the word of God for such a prac- tice ; for if the thing itself were but of good report and a thing tending to civil honesty, it is within the compass and bounds even of na- ture itself, and ought to be done, much more things of a higher nature ; besides, the apostle exhorts us to “ whatever things are honest, whatever things are true, just, and of good re- port,” to think of them, that is, to be mindful to do them ; but to be conversant in this godly exercise in our family is very worthy of praise, and doth much become all Christians. This is one of the things for which God so highly com- mended his servant Abraham, and that with which his heart was so much affected : “ I know Abraham,” saitli God; “ I know him to be a good man in very deed, for he will com- mand his children, and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord.” This was a thing also which good Joshua de- signed should be his practice as long as he had a breathing-time in this world : “ As for me, (saith he,) I and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Further, we find also in the New Testament that they are looked upon as Christians of an inferior rank that have not a due regard to this duty; yea, so inferior as not fit to be chosen to any office in the Church of God. A pastor must be one that ruleth well his own house, having his children in subjection with all gravity : For if a man knoweth not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of tire Church of God? “ The deacon also (saith he) must be the husband of one wife,” ruling their children and their own house well. Mark a little, the apostle seems to lay down thus much, that a man that governs his family well hath one qualification belonging to a pastor or deacon in the house of God, (for he that know- eth not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of the Church of God?) which thing considered, it giveth us light into the work of the master of a family touching the governing of his house. 1. First, then, a pastor must be sound and uncorrupt in his doctrine ; and indeed so must the masder of a family. 2. A pastor should be apt to teach, to reprove, and to exhort ; and so should the master of a family. 3. A pastor must himself be exemplary in faith and holiness ; and so also should the mas- ter of a family. “I (saith David) will behave myself in a perfect way ; I will walk in (or before) my house in a perfect way.” 4. The pastor is for getting the church to- gether ; and when they are so come together, then to pray among them and to preach unto them: this is also commendable in Christ an masters of families. Objection. But my family is ungodly and unruly touching all that is good : what shall I do? Ansiver. I answer — 1. Though this be true, yet thou must rule them, and not they thee. Thou art set over them of God, and thou art to use the authority which God hath given thee, both to rebuke their vice and to show them the evil of their rebelling against the Lord. This did Eli, though not enough; and thus did David. CHRISTIA N BE II A VIO UR. 255 Also, thou must toll them how sad thy state was when .thou wast in their condition, and so labour to recover them out of the snare of the devil. 2. Thou oughtest also to labour to draw them forth to God’s public worship, if perad- venture God may convert their souls. Saith Jacob to his household, and to all that were about him, “ Let us arise and go to Bethel, and I will make there an altar to God, that an- swered me in the day of my distress.” Hannah would carry Samuel to Shiloh, that he might abide with God for ever. Indeed a soul rightly touched will labour to draw not only their families but a whole city after Jesus Christ. 3. If they are obstinate, and will not go forth with thee, then do thou get godly and sound men to thy house, and there let the word of God be preached, when thou hast, as Cornelius, gathered thy family and friends together. You know that the jailer, Lydia, Crispus, Gains, Stephanus, and others had not only themselves but their families made gracious by the word preached, and that some of them, if not all, by the word preached in their houses. And this, for aught I know, might be one reason among many why the apostles taught in their day, not only publicly, but from house to house : I say, that they might, if possible, bring in those in some family which yet re- mained unconverted and in their sins; for some, you know, how usual it was in the day of Christ to invite him to their house if they had any afflicted that either would not or could not come unto him. If this be the way with those that have out- ward diseases in their families, how much more then where there are souls that have need of Christ to save them from death and eternal damnation ? 4. Take heed that thou dost not neglect fam- ily duties among them thyself, as reading the word and prayer; if thou hast one in thy fam- ily that is gracious, take encouragement; nay, if thou art alone, yet know that thou hast both liberty to go to God through Christ, and also art at that time in a capacity of having the universal Church join with thee for the whole number of those that shall be saved. 5. Take heed that thou suffer not any un- godly, profane, or heretical books or discourse in thy house: “Evil communications corrupt good manners.” I mean such profane or he- retical books, &c., as either tend to provoke to looseness of life or such as do oppose the fun- damentals of the Gospel. I know that Christians must be allowed their liberty as to things indifferent; but for those things that strike either at faith or holi- ness, they ought to be abandoned by all Chris- tians, and especially by the pastors of churches and masters of families; which practice was figured out by Jacob’s commanding his house and all that was with him to put away the strange gods from among them and to change their garments. All those in the Acts set a good example for this, who took their curious books and burned them before all men, though they were worth five thousand pieces of silver. The neglect of this fourth particular hath occasioned ruin in many families both among children and servants. It is easier for vain talkers and their deceivable works to subvert whole households than many are afware of. Thus much touching the spiritual state of thy household. And now to its outward. Touching the outward state of thy family, thou art to consider these three things : 1. That it lieth upon thee to care for them that they have a convenient livelihood : “ If any man provide not for his own, and espe- cially for those of his house, he hath denied the faith and is worse than an infidel.” But mark when the word said, “ Thou art to pro- vide for thy house,” it giveth thee no license to distracting carefulness; neither doth it al- low thee to strive to grasp the world in thy heart or coffers, nor to take care for years or days to come, but so to provide for them that they may have food and raiment ; and if either they or thou be not content with that, you launch out beyond the rule of God. This is to labour that you may have where- with to maintain good works for necessary uses. And never object that unless you reach farther it will never do; for that is hut unbe- lief. The word saith, “That God feedeth the ravens, careth for sparrows, and clothetli the grass; in which three, to feed, clothe, and care for, is as much as heart can wish. 2. Therefore, though thou shouldst provide for thy family, yet let all thy labour be mixed with moderation : “ Let your moderation be known unto all men.” Take heed of driving so hard after this world as to hinder thyself and family from those duties towards God which thou art by grace obliged to, as private prayer, reading the Scriptures, and Christian conference. It is a base thing for men so to spend themselves and families after this world 256 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. as that they disengage their heart to God’s worship. Christians, “ the time is short. It remaineth 1 % / then that they that have wives he as those that have none ; and they that weep, as though they wept not; and they that rejoice, as those that rejoice not; and they that use this world, as not abusing it ; for the fashion of this world passeth away.” Many Christians live and do in this world as if religion was but a by-business, and this world the one thing necessary ; when indeed all the things of this world are but things by the by, and religion only the one thing need- ful. 3. If thou wouldst be such a master of a family as becomes thee, thou must see that there be that Christian harmony among those under thee as becomes, that house where one ruleth that feareth God. (1.) Thou must look that thy children and servants be under subjection to the word of God ; for though it is of God only to rule the heart, yet he expecteth that thou shouldst rule their outward man ; which, if thou doest not, he may in a short time cut off all thy stock. See therefore that thou keep them temperate in all things, in apparel, in language, that they be not gluttons nor drunkards; nor suffering either thy children vaiuly to domineer over thy servants, nor they again to carry them- selves foolishly towards each other. (2.) Learn to distinguish between that in- jury that in thy family is done to thee and that which is done to God ; and though thou oughtest to be very zealous for the Lord, and to bear nothing that is open transgression to him, yet here will be thy wisdom — -to pass by per- sonal injuries and to bury them in oblivion : “ Love coveretlr a multitude of sins.” Be not then like those that' will rage and stare like madmen when they are injured, and yet either laugh, or at least not soberly rebuke and warn, when God is dishonoured. Rule thy own house well, having thy chil- dren (with others in thy family) in subjection with all gravity. Solomon was so excellent, sometimes, this way that he made the eyes of his beholders to dazzle. But to break off from this general and come to particulars : First, Hast thou a wife? Thou must con- sider how thou oughtest to behave thyself under that relation ; and to do this aright thou must consider .the condition of thy wife. whether she be one that' indeed belicveth or not. If she believeth, then, 1. Thou art engaged to bless God for her; “For her price is far above rubies, and she is the gift of God unto thee, and is for tby adorn- ing and glory. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain ; but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.” 2. Thou oughtest to love her under a double consideration: 1. As she is thy flesh and thy bone; “For never man yet hated his own flesh.” 2. As she is together with thee an heir of the grace of life. This, I say, should en- gage thee to love her with Christian love; to love her as believing you both are dearly be- loved of God and the Lord Jesus Christ, and as those that must be together with him in eternal happiness. 3. Thou oughtest so to carry thyself to and before her as doth Christ to and before his Church ; as sai'th the apostle : “ So ought men to love their wives, even as Christ loved the Church and gave himself for it.” When hus- bands behave themselves like husbands indeed, then will they be not only husbands, but such an ordinance of God to the wife as will preach to her the carriage of Christ to his spouse. There is a sweet scent wrapped up in the rela- tions of husbands and wives that believe : the wife, I say, signifying the Church, and the husband the head and Saviour thereof. “ For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the Church;” and he is the Saviour of the body. This is one of God’s chief ends in instituting marriage, that Christ and his Church, under a figure, might be wherever there is a couple that believe through grace. Wherefore that husband that carrieth it un- discreetly towards his wife, he doth not only behave himself contrary to the rule, but also maketli his wife lose the benefit of such an ordinance, and crosseth the mystery of his re- lation. Therefore, I say, “ So ought men to love their wives as their own bodies : he that loveth his wife, lovetli himself; for no man ever yet hated his own flesh, but nourisheth and cherislieth it, even as the Lord the Church.” Christ laid out his life for his Church, covereth her infirmities, communicates to her his wisdom, protectetli her and helpeth her in her employments in this world; and so ought men to do for their wives. Solomon and Pharaoh’s daughter had the art of thus doing, as you may see in the book of the Canticles. CHRIST I A y n Ell A VIO UR. 257 Wherefore hear with their weaknesses, help their infirmities, and honour them as the weaker vessels and as be.ng of a frailer con- stitution. In a word, be such a husband to thy believ- ing wife that she may say, God hath not only given me a husband, but. such a husband as preacheth to me every day the carriage of Christ to his Church. Secondly, If thy wife be unbelieving or car- nal, then thou hast also a duty lying before theo, which thou art engaged to perform under a double engagement: 1. For that she lietli liable every moment to eternal damnation: 2. That she is thy wife that is in this evil case. Oh how little sense of the worth of souls is there in the hearts of some husbands, as is manifest by their unchristian carriage to and before their wives ! Now, to qualify thee for a carriage suitable, 1. Labour seriously after a sense of her miserable state, that thy bowels may yearn towards her soul. 2. Beware that she take no occasion from any unseemly carriage of thine to proceed in evil. And here thou hast need to double thy diligence, for she lieth in thy bosom, and therefore is capable of espying the least mis- carriage in thee. 3. If she behave herself unseemly and un- ruly, as she is subject to do, being Christless and graceless, then labour thou to overcome her evil with thy goodness, her frowardness with thy patience and meekness. It is a shame for thee, who hast another principle, to do as she. 4. Take fit opportunities to convince her. Observe her disposition, and when she is most likely to hear, then speak to her very heart. 5. When thou speakest speak to purpose. It is no matter for many words, provided they be pertinent. Job in a few words answers his wife, and takes her oft' from her foolish talk- ing: “Thou speakest (saith he) like one of the foolish women : shall we receive good at the hands of God, and shall we not receive evil ?” 6. Let all be done without rancour or the least appearance of anger : “ With meekness instruct those that oppose themselves, if per- adventure they may recover themselves out of the snare of the devil who are taken captive by him at his will.” “And knowest thou, 0 man, but thou may- est save thy wife ?” 17 TOUCHING PARENTS. If thou art a parent, a father or a mother, then thou art to consider thy calling under this relation. Thy children have souls, and they must be begotten of God as well as of thee, or they perish. And know also that unless thou be very cir- cumspect in thy behaviour to and before them, they may perish through thee; the thoughts of which should provoke thee both to instruct and also to correct them. 1. To instruct them as the Scripture saith, and to bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord; and to do this diligently when thou sittest in thy house, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. Now to do this to purpose, 1. Do it in terms and words easy to be un- derstood: affect not high expressions, they will drown your children. Thus God spake to his children, and Paul to his. 2. Take heed of filling their heads with whimsies and unprofitable notions, for this will sooner learn them to be malapert and proud than sober and humble. Open there- fore to them the state of man by nature ; dis- course with them of sin, of death, and hell ; of a crucified Saviour, and the promise of life through faith: “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” 3. There must be much gentleness and patience in all thy instructions, lest they be discouraged. 4. Labour to convince them by a conversa- tion answerable that the things of which thou instructest them are not fables, but realities, yea, and realities so far above what can be here enjoyed that all things, were they a thou- sand times better than they are, are not worthy to be compared with the glory and worthiness of these things. Isaac was so holy before bis children that when Jacob remembered God, he remembered that he was the fear of his father Isaac. Ah ! when children can think of their parents, and bless God for that instruction and good they have received from them, this is not only profitable for children, but hon- ourable and comfortable to parents: “The father of the righteous shall greatly rejoice ; and he that begetteth a wise child shall have joy of him.” 258 B UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. TOUCHING CORRECTION. 1. See if fair words will win them from evft. This is God’s way with his children. 2. Let those words you speak to them in your reproof be both sober, few, and perti- nent, adding always some suitable sentence of the Scripture therewith; as, if they lie, then such as Rev. xxi. 8, 27 ; if they refuse to hear the word, such as 2 Chron. xxv. 14-16. 3. Look to them that they be not compan- ions with those that are rude and ungodly, showing with soberness a continual dislike of their naughtiness ; often crying out to them, as God did of old unto his, “ Oh do not this abominable thing that I hate.” Let all this be mixed with such love, pity, and compunction of spirit that if possible they may be convinced you dislike not their per- sons, but their sins. This is God’s way. 5. Be often endeavouring to fasten on their consciences the day of their death and judg- ment to come. Thus also God deals with his. 6. If thou art driven to the rod, then- — 1. Strike advisedly, in cold blood, and soberly show them — 1. their fault ; 2. how much it is against thy heart thus to deal with them ; 3. and that what thou dost thou dost in con- science to God and love to their souls ; 4. and tell them that if fair means would have done, none of this severity should have been. This, I have proved ■ it, will be a means to afflict their hearts as well as their bodies; and it being the way that God deals with his, it is the most likely to accomplish its end. 7. Follow all this with prayer to God for them, and leave the issue to him: “Folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction will fetch it out.” Lastly, observe these cautions : (1.) Take heed that the misdeeds for which Ihou correctest thy children be not learned them by thee. Many children learn that wickedness of their parents for which they beat and chastise them. (2.) Take heed thou smile not upon them to encourage them in small faults, lest that thy carriage to them be an encouragement to them to commit greater. (3.) Take heed thou use not unsavoury and unseemly words in thy chastising of them, as railing, miscalling, and the like. This is devilish. (4.) Take heed thou do not use them to many chiding words and threatenings, mixed with lightness and laughter; this will harden. Speak not much, not often, but pertinent to them, with all gravity. OF MASTERS TO SERVANTS. Masters also have a work to do as they stand related to their servants. And, 1. If possibly they can, to get them that fear God: “He that worketh deceit (said David) shall not divell within my house ; and he that telleth lies shall not tarry in my sight.” 2. But if none at the present but unbelievers can be got to do thy labour, then, (1.) Know that it is thy duty so to behave thyself to thy servant that thy service may not only be for thy good, but for the good of thy servant, and that both in body and soul. Wherefore deal with him, as to admonition, as with thy children ; give him the same bread of God thou givest to them ; and who knows but that if thou with spiritual delicates bring- est up thy servant, he may become thy spir- itual son in the end. (2.) Take heed thou do not turn thy ser- vants into slaves, by overcharging them in thy work through thy greediness. To make men serve with rigour is more like to Israel’s en- emies than Christian masters. (3.) Take heed thou carry not thyself to thy servant as he of whom it is said, “ He is such a man of Belial that his servants could not speak to him.” And the apostle bids you forbear to threaten them, “ because you also have a Master in heaven.” As who should say, Your servants cannot be guilty of so many miscarriages against you as you are guilty of against Christ : wherefore do with and to your ser- vants as you would have your Master do with you. (4.) Take heed that thou neither circum- vent him at his coming to thy service nor at his going out. Servants at their going into service may be beguiled two ways : 1st. By their masters lying unto them, say- ing their work is so small and so easy, when it is indeed, if not too burdensome, yet far be- yond what at first was said of it. This is be- guiling of them. 2dly. The other way is when masters greed- ily seek to wire-draw their servants to such wages as indeed is too little and inconsider- able for such work and labour. Both these the apostle opposeth where hesaith, “Masters, give to your servants that which is just — -just CHRISTIAN BEIIA VIO UR. labour and just%agcs — knowing that you also have a Master in heaven.” As servants may bo circumvented at their coming into their labour, so also they may be at their going out; which is done by masters that either change their wages, like heathenish Laban, or keep it back, like those against whom God will be a swift witness. (3.) Take heed that thou make not a gain of thy place, because thou art gracious or livest conveniently for the means of grace. Servants that are truly godly, they care not how cheap they serve their masters, provided they may get into private families, or where they may be convenient for the word. Ihit now, if a master or mistress should take this opportunity to make a prey of their servants, this is abominable, this is making a gain of godliness and merchandise of the things of God and of the soul of thy brother. I have heard some poor servants say that in some carnal families they have had more lib- erty to God’s things and more fairness of deal- ing than among professors; but this stinketh. And as Jacob said concerning the cruelty of his two sons, so may I say of such masters, they make religion stink before the inhabitants of the land. In a word, learn of the Lord Jesus to carry yourselves well to your servants, that your ser- vants also may learn something of the kind- ness of Christ by your deportment to them. Servants are goers as well as comers; take heed that thou give them no occasion to scandal the Gospel when they are gone for what they ob- served thee unrighteously to do when they were with thee. Then masters carry it rightly toward their servants when they labour both in word and life to convince them that the things of God are the one thing necessary. That which servants are commanded to do touching their fear, their singleness of heart, their doing what they do as to the Lord, and not to men, the master is commanded to do the same things unto them. TIIE DUTY OF WIVES. But, passing the master of the family, I shall speak a word or two to those that are under him. And first to the wife. The wife is bound by the law to her husband so long as her husband liveth, wherefore she also hath her work and place in the family as well sis the rest. Now there are these things considerable in the carriage of a wife toward her husband, which she ought conscientiously to observe: 259 1. That she look upon him as her head and lord. The head of the woman is the man, and so Sarah called Abraham lord. 2. She should therefore be subject to him, as is fit in the Lord. The apostle saith, “That the wife should submit herself to her husband, as to the Lord.” I told you before that if the husband doth walk towards his wife as becomes him, he will therein be such an ordinance of God to her, besides the relation of an husband, that shall preach to her the carriage of Christ to his Church. And now I say also that the wife, if she walk with her husband as becomes her, she shall preach the obedience of the Church to her husband. Therefore as the Church is subject to Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing. Now, for thy performing of this work, thou must first shun these evils: 1. The evil of a wandering and a gossiping spirit; this is evil in the Church, and is evil also in a wife, who is the figure of a Church. Christ loveth to have his spouse keep at home ; that is, to be with him in the faith and prac- tice of his things, not ranging and meddling with the things of Satan: no more should wives be given to wander and gossip abroad. You know that Prov. vii. 11 saith, “She is loud and stubborn, her feet abide not in her house.” Wives should be about their own husband’s business at home; as the apostle saith, “Let them be discreet, chaste, keepers at home, good, obedient to their own husband.” And why? Because otherwise the word of God will be blasphemed. 2. Take heed of an idle, talking, or wrang- ling tongue. This also is odious, either in maids or wives, to be like parrots, not bridling their tongue; whereas the wife should know, as I said before, that her husband is her lord, and is over her, as Christ is over the Church. Do you think it is seemly for the Church to parrot it against her husband? Is she not to be silent before him, and to look to his laws rather than her own fictions? Why so, saith the apostle, ought the wife to carry it towards her husband. Let the woman, saith Paul, learn in silence with all subjection; but I suf- fer not a woman to teach or to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. It is an unseemly thing to see a woman so much as once in all her lifetime to offer to overtop her husband ; she ought in every thing to be in subjection to him and in all she doth, as having her warrant, license, and authority 260 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. from him. And indeed here is her glory, even to he under him, as the Church is under Christ: “Now she openeth her mouth in wisdom, and her tongue is the law of kindness.” 3. Take heed of affecting immodest apparel or a wanton gait ; this will be evil both abroad and at home; abroad, it will not only give ill example, but also tend to tempt to lust and lasciviousness; and at home it will give an of- fence A a godly husband, and be cankering to ungodly children, &c. Wherefore, as saitli the apostle, “ Let women’s apparel be modest, as becometh women professing godliness with good works,” “ not with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly array.” And as it is said again, “ Whose adorning, let it not be that out- ward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wear- ing gold, and of putting on of apparel ; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of great price; for after this manner in old time the holy women also, who trusted in God, adorned themselves, being in subjection to their own husbands.” But yet do not think that by the subjection I have here mentioned I do intend women should be their husbands’ slaves. Women are their husbands’ yoke-fellows, their flesh and their bones; and he is not a man that hateth his own flesh or that is bitter against it. Wherefore let every man love his .wife as him- self, and the wife see that she reverence her husband. The wife js master next her husband, and is to rule all in his absence: yea, in his jwesence she is to guide the house, to bring up the chil- dren, provided she so do it as the adversary have no occasion to speak reproachfully. “Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is far above rubies. A gracious woman retain- eth honour, and guideth her affairs with dis- cretion.” Objection. But my husband is an unbeliever: what shall I do ? Answer. If so, then what I have said before lieth upon thee with an engagement so much the stronger. For — 1. Thy husband being in this condition, he will be watchful to take thy slips and infirmities, to throw them as dirt in the face of God and thy Saviour. 2. He will be apt to make the worst of every one of thy wc rds, carriages, and gestures. 3. And all this doth tend to the possessing his heart with more hardness, prejudice, and opposition to his own salvation. Wherefore, as Peter saith, “Ye wives, be in subjection t'o your own hus- bands ; that if any obey not the word, they may also without the word be won by the conversa- tion of their wives, while they behold your chaste conversation, coupled with fear.” Thy husband’s salvation or damnation lieth much in thy deportment and behaviour before him ; wherefore, if there be in thee any fear of God or love to thy husband, seek by a carriage full of meekness, modesty, and holiness, and an humble behaviour before him, to win him to the love of his own salvation ; and by thus doing, how knowest thou, 0 woman, but thou shalt save thy husband? Objection. But my husband is not only an unbeliever, but one very froward, peevish, and testy ; yea, so froward, &c., that I know not how to speak to him, to behave myself before him. Answer. I-ndeed there are some wives in great slavery by reason of their ungodly hus- bands, and as such should be pitied and prayed for ; so they should be so much the more watchful and circumspect in all their ways. 1. Therefore be thou very faithful to him in all the things of this life. 2. Bear with patience his unruly and un- converted behaviour; thou art alive, lie is dead : thou art principled with grace, he with sin. Now then, seeing grace is stronger than sin, and virtue than vice, be not overcome with his vileness, but overcome that with thy virtues. It is a shame for those that are gra- cious to be as lavishing in their words, &c., as those that are graceless : “ They that are slow to wrath are of great understanding; but they that are hasty in spirit exalt folly.” 3. Thy wisdom, therefore, if at any time thou hast desire to speak to thy husband for his conviction concerning any thing, either good or evil, it is to observe convenient times and seasons. “ There is a time to keep silence and a time to speak.” Now for the right timing thy intentions, 1. Consider his disposition, and take him when he is farthest off of those filthy passions that are thy afflictions. Abigail would not speak a word to her churlish husband till his wine was gone from him and he in a sober temper. The want of this observation is the cause why so much is spoken and so little effected. 2. Take him at those times when he hath his heart taken with thee, and when he show- etli tokens of love and delight in thee. Thus CHRISTIAN UK II A VIOVR. 2G1 did Esther with the king her husband, and prevailed. 3. Observe when convictions seize his con- science, and then follow them with sound and grave sayings of the Scriptures. Somewhat like to th is dealt Mnnoah’s wife with her hus- band. Yet then, 1 . Let thy words be few. 2. And none of them savouring of a lording it over him, but speak thou still to thy head and lord by way of entreaty and beseeching. 3. And that in such a spirit of sympathy and bowels of affection after bis good that the manner of thy speech and behaviour in speak- ing may be to him an argument that thou speakest in love, as being sensible of his mis- ery and inflamed in thy soul with desire aftpr his conversion. 4. And follow thy words and behaviour with prayers to God for his soul. 5. Still keeping thyself in a holy, chaste, and modest behaviour before him. Objection. But my husband is a sot, a fool, and one that hath not wit enough to follow his outward employment in the world. Answer. 1. Though all this be true, yet thou must know he is thy head, thy lord, and thy husband. 2. Therefore thou must take heed of desiring to usurp authority over him. He was not made for thee — that is, for thee to have domin- ion over him — but to be thy husband and to rule over thee. 3. Wherefore, though in truth thou must have more discretion than he, yet thou ought- est to know that thou, with all that is thine, is to be used as under thy husband, even every thing. Take heed therefore that what thou dost goes not in thy name, but bis ; not to thy ex- altation, but his; carrying all tilings so, by thy dexterity and prudence, that not one of thy husband’s weaknesses be discovered to others by thee : “ A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband ; but she that causeth shame is a rot- tenness to his bones.” For then, as the wise man saith, she will do him good, and not evil, all the days of her life. 4. Therefore act, and do still, as being under the power and authority of thy husband. Now, touching thy carriage to thy children and servants. Thou art a parent and a mistress, and so thou oughtest to demean thyself. And besides, seeing the believing woman is a figure of the Church, she ought, as the Church, to nourish and instruct her children and servants as the Church, that she may an- swer in that particular also ; and truly, the wife being always at home, she hath great ad- vantage that way ; wherefore do it, and the Lord prosper your proceeding. OF CHILDREN TO PARENTS. There lieth also a duty upon children to their parents, which they are bound by the law of God and nature conscientiously to observe; “Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” And again, “Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleas ing to the Lord.” There arc these general things in which chil dren should show forth that honour that is due to their parents from them : 1. They should always count them better than themselves. I observe a vile spirit among some children, and that is, they are apt to look over their parents and to have slighting and scornful thoughts of them. This is worse than heathenish ; such a one hath got just the heart of a dog or a beast, that will bite those that be- got them and her that brought them forth. Objection. But my father, &c., is now poor and I am rich, and it will be a disparagement, or at least a hindrance to me, to show that respect to him as otherwise I might. Answer. I tell thee that thou arguest ljke an atheist and a beast, and standest in this full flat against the Son of God. Must a gift and a little of the glory of the butterfly make thee that thou slialt not do for and honour to thy father and mother? “A wise son maketh a glad father, but a foolish son despiseth his motner.” Though thy pa- rents be never so low, and thou thyself never so high, yet he is thy father and she thy mother, and they must be in thy eye in great esteem : “ The eye that mocketh at his father, and that despiseth to obey his mother, the ravens of the valley shall pick it out and the young eagles shall eat it.” 2. Thou oughtest to show thy honour to thy parents by a willingness to help them with such necessaries and accommodations which they need. If any have nephews or children, let them learn to show pity at home, and to re- quite their parents, saith Paul, for that is good and acceptable before God. And this rule Joseph observed to his poor father, though he himself was next the king in Egypt. But mark, let them requite their parents. 262 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. There are three things for which, as long as thou livest, thou wilt be a debtor to thy pa- rents : (1.) For thy being in this world; they are they from whom immediately, under God, thou didst receive it. (2.) For their care to preserve thee when thou wast helpless and couldst neither care for nor regard thyself. (3.) For the pains they have taken with thee to bring thee up. Until thou hast children of thy own thou wilt not be sensible of the pains, watchings, fears, sorrows, and affliction that they have gone under to bring thee up; and when thou knowest it thou wilt not easily yield that thou hast recompensed them for their favour to thee. How often have they sus- tained thy hunger, clothed thy nakedness ! What care have they taken that thou mightest have wherewith to live and do well when they ■were dead and gone! They possibly have spared it from their own belly and back for thee, and have also impoverished themselves that thou mightest live like a man. All these things ought duly, and like a man, to be con- sidered by thee ; and care ought to be taken on thy part to requite them. The Scripture saith so, reason saith so, and there be none but dogs and beasts that deny it. It is the duty of parents to lay up for their children, and the duty of children to requite their parents. 3. Therefore show by all humble and son- like carriage that thou dost to this day, with thy heart, remember the love of thy parents. Thus much for obedience to parents in general. Again, if thy parents be godly and thou wicked, (as thou art if thou hast not a second work or birth from God upon thee,) then thou art to consider that thou art more strongly en- gaged to respect and honour thy parents ; not now only as a father'in the flesh, but, as godly parents, thy father and mother are now made of God thy teachers and instructors in the way of righteousness. Wherefore, to allude to that of Solomon, “ My son, hearken to the law of thy father, and forsake not the law of thy mother; bind them continually upon thy heart and tie them about thy neck.” IS ow to provoke thee hereto, consider — - 1. That this hath been the practice always of those that are and have been obedient chil- dren: yea, of Christ himself to Joseph and Mary, though he himself was God blessed for ever. 2. Thou hast also the severe judgments of God upon those that have been disobedient to awe thee; as, (1.) Ishmael, for but mocking at one good carriage of his father and mother, was both thrust out of his father’s inheritance and the kingdom of heaven, and that with God’s ap- probation. (2.) Hophni and Phineas, for refusing the good counsel of their father, provoked the great God to be their enemy: “They heark- ened not to the voice of- their father, because the Lord would slay them.” (3.) Absalom was hanged, as I may say, by God himself for rebelling against his father. Besides, little dost thou know how heart- aching a consideration it is to thy parents when they do but suppose thou mayest be damned — how many prayers, sighs, and tears are there wrung from their hearts upon this account. Every miscarriage of thine goeth to their heart, for fear God should take an occasion thereat to shut thee up in hardness for ever. How did Abraham groan for Ishmael ? “Oh (saith he to God) that Ishmael might live be- fore thee ! ” How was Isaac and Rebekah grieved for the miscarriage of Esau ! And how bitterly did David mourn for his son, who died in his wickedness ! Lastly, And can any imagine but that all these carriages of thy godly parents will be to thee the increase of thy torments in hell, if thou die in thy sins notwithstanding? Again, If thy parents and thou also be godly, how happy a thing is this ! How shouldst thou rejoice that the same faith should dwell both in thy parents and thee ! Thy conversion, possibly, is the fruits of thy parents’ groans and prayers for thy soul, and they cannot choose but rejoice; do thou rejoice with them. It is true it is the salvation of a natural son which is mentioned in the parable: “This my son was dead, and is alive again : was lost, and is found: and they began to be merry.” Let therefore the consideration of this, that thy parents have grace as well as thee, engage thy heart so much the more to honour, rever- ence, and obey them. Thou art better able now to consider the pains and care that thy friends hath been at, both for thy body and soul ; wherefore strive to requite them. Thou hast strength to answer in some measure the command ; wherefore do not neglect it. It is a double sin in a gracious son not to CHRISTIAN B Jiff A VI 0 UR. 2G3 remember the commandment — yea, the first commandment with promise. Take heed of giving thy sweet parents one snappish word or one unseemly carriage. Love them because they are thy parents, because they are godly, and because thou must be in glory with them. Again, if thou be godly and thy parents wicked, as often it sadly falls out, then, 1. Let thy bowels yearn towards them; it is thy parents that are going to hell. 2. As I said before to the wife touching her unbelieving husband, so now I say to thee, Take heed of a parroting tongue: speak to them wisely, meekly, and humbly ; do for them faithfully without repining, and bear with all child-like modesty their reproaches, their rail- ing, and evil-speaking. Watch fit opportuni- ties to lay their condition before them. Oh ! how happy a thing would it be if God should use a child to beget his father to the faith ! Then indeed might the father say, With the fruit of my own bowels hath God converted my soul. The Lord, if it be his will, convert our poor parents, that they, with us, may be the children of God. CONCERNING SERVANTS. Servants also, they have a work to do for God in their place and station among men. The apostles assert masters under a threefold consideration : 1. The believing master. 2. The unbeliev- ing master. 3. The froward master. For all which servants are furnished with counsel and advice in the word, for the de- meaning of themselves under each of them. But before I speak in particular to any of these, I will in general show you the duty of servants : 1. Thou art to look upon thyself as thou art, that is, as a servant, not a child nor a wife; thou art inferior to these ; wherefore count thyself under them, and be content with that station : “ For three things the earth is dis- quieted, and for four which it cannot bear : one is a servant when he reigneth.” It is out of thy place either to talk or do as one that reigneth. 2. Consider that thou being a servant, what is under thy hand is not thine own, but thy master’s. Now, because it is not thy own, thou oughtest not to dispose of it, but because it is thy master’s, thou oughtest to be faithful. Thus it was with Joseph. Gen. xxxix. 7, 8, 9. But if thou do otherwise, know that thou shalt receive of God for the wrong that thou dost ; and there is with God no respect of persons. 3. Touching thy work and employment, thou art to do it as unto the Lord, and not for man ; and indeed then servants do their busincas as becomes them when they do all in obedience to the Lord, as knowing that the place in which they now are is the place where Christ hath put them, and in which he expectetli they should be faithful. Servants, (saith Paul,) be obedient to them that are your masters — with fear and trembling, in singleness of heart, as unto Christ ; not with eye-service as men-pleasers, but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart. Observe a little the word of God to servants: 1. Servants must be obedient ; yea, 2. Not with that obedience that will serve man only ; servants must have their eye on the Lord in the work they do for their masters. 3. That their work in this service is the will and ordinance of God. • From which I conclude that thy work in thy place and station, as thou art a servant, is as really God’s ordinance and as acceptable to him, in its kind, as is preaching or any other work for God, and that thou art as sure to re- ceive a reward for thy labour as he that hangs or is burnt for the Gospel. Wherefore, saith the apostle to servants, “ Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not to men, knowing that of the Lord you shall receive the reward of inheritance; for ye serve the Lord Christ.” And now touching the three sorts of masters mentioned before. 1. For the believing masters. Saith Paul, “ They that have believing masters, let them not despise them because they are brethren, but rather do them service because they are faithful and beloved, and partakers (with the servants) of the heavenly benefits.” (Servants, if they have not a care of their hearts, will be so much in the consideration of the relation that is betwixt their masters and they as breth- ren, that they will forget the relation that is between them as masters and servants. Now, though they ought to remember the one, yet let them take heed of not forgetting the other. Know thy place as a servant while thou con- sidercst that thy master and thee are brethren : do thy work for him faithfully and humbly, and with meekness, because he is a master faithful and beloved, and partaker of the heavenly benefit.) “ If any man teach other- 264 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. wise, (saith the apostle Paul,) and consent not to wholesome words, even the words of our Lord Jesus Christ and the doctrine which is according to godliness, he is proud, knowing nothing, but doating about questions and strife of words; whereof cometh envy, strife, rail- ings, evil surmisings,. perverse disputing^ of men of corrupt minds and destitute of the truth, supposing . that gain is godliness : from such withdraw thyself.” 2. For the unbelieving masters, (for of them Paul speaks in the. first verse of the 6th of Timothy.) “ Let as many servants (saith he) as be under the yoke count their own masters worthy of all honour, that the word of God and his doctrine be not blasphemed.” Servants living with unbelieving masters are greatly engaged to be both watchful, faithful, and trusty. Engaged, I say — (1.) From the consideration of the condition of their master; for he, being unbelieving, will have an evil eye upon thee and upon thy doings, and so much the more because thou professest; as in the case of Saul and David. 1 Sam. xviii. (2.) Thou art engaged because of the pro- fession thou makest of the word of God ; for by thy profession thou dost lay both God and his word before thy master, and he hath no other wit but to blaspheme them if thou be- have thyself unworthily. Wherefore Paul bids Titus, “ Exhort servants to be obedient to their own masters, and to please them well in all things, not answering again, (not giving par- roting answers or such as are cross or pro- voking,) not purloining, but showing all good fidelity, that they may adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things.” That servant who in an unbeliever's family doth his work before God as God’s ordinance, he>shall adorn the doctrine of God, if not save his master, by so doing; but if he doth other- wise, he shall both stumble the unbeliever, dishonour God, offend the faithful, and bring guilt upon his own soul. 3. For the froward master, (though I distin- guish him from the unbeliever, yet it is not be- cause he may not be such, but because every believer doth not properly go under that name.) Now, with this froward and peevish fellow thou art to serve as faithfully for the time thou standest bound as with the most pleasant and rational master in the world. “Servants, (saith Peter,) be subject to your masters, with all fear, not only to the good and gentle, but also to the froward.” And if thy peevish master will still be froward, either out of spite to thy religion or because he is without reason concerning thy labour, (thou to the utmost of thy power labouring faithfully,) God then reckoneth thee a sufferer for well- doing, as truly as if thou wert called upon the stage of this world before men for the matters of thy faith. Wherefore Peter adds this en- couragement to servants to the exhortation he gave them before: “This is thankworthy, (saith he,) if a man for conscience toward God endureth grief, suffering wrongfully; for what glory is it if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, you take it patiently? But if, when you do well and suffer for it, you take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.” Wherefore be comforted concerning thy condition, with considering that God looks upon thee as on Jacob in the family of Laban, and will right all thy wrongs, and recompense thee for thy faithful, wise, and godly be- haviour before and in the service of thy froward master. Wherefore, be patient, I say, and abound in faithfulness in thy place and calling, till God make a way for thy escape from this place; and when thou mayest be made free, use it rather. OF NEIGHBOURS EACH TO OTHER. Having thus in few words showed you what is duty under your several relations, I shall now at last speak, in a word or two, touching good neighbourhood, and then draw towards a conclusion. Touching neighbourhood, there are these things to be considered and practised if thou wilt be found in the practical part of good neighbourhood : 1. Thou must be of a good and sound con- versation in tliy own family, place, and station, showing to all the power that the Gospel and the things of another world have in thy heart, “that ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world.” 2. As persons must be of good behaviour at home that will be good neighbours, so they must be full of courtesy and charity to them that have need about them. Right good neighbourhood is for men read- ily to communicate, as of their spirituals, so of their temporalities, as food, raiment, and help, to those that have need; to be giving to the poor as thou seest them go by thee, or to CHRISTIAN BEIIA VIOUR. 2G5 inquire after their condition, and according to thy capacity to send unto them. 3. Thou must bo always humble and meek among them, as also grave and gracious; not light and frothy, but by thy words and car- riage ministering grace to the hearers. Thus also Job honoured God among his neighbours. 4. Thy wisdom will be rightly to discoun- tenance sin and to reprove thy neighbour for the same, denying thyself in some things for the preventing an injury to thy neighbour, that thou xnayest please him for his edi- fication. 5. If thou wouldst be a good neighbour, take heed of thy tongue upon two accounts : (1.) That thou with it give no offensive lan- guage to thy neighbour, to the provoking of him to anger. Bear much, put up with wrongs, and say little: “It is an honour for a man to cease from strife, but every fool will be meddling.” And again, “He loveth trans- gression that loveth strife.” (2.) And as thou sliouldst take heed that thou be not the original of contention and anger, so also take heed that thou be not an instrument to beget it between parties by a tale-bearing and gossiping spirit: “He that passeth by and meddleth with strife belonging not to him is like one that taketh a dog by the ears. As coals are to burning coals, and wood to lire, so is a contentious man to kindle strife.” I do observe two things very odious in many professors : the one is a headstrong and stiff- necked spirit, that will have its own way; and the other is a great deal of tattling and talk about religion, and but a very little, if any thing, of those Christian deeds that carry in them the cross of a Christian in the doing thereof and profit to my neighbour. (1.) When I say a headstrong and stiff- necked spirit, I mean they are for pleasing themselves and their own fancies in things of no weight, though their so doing be as the very slaughter-knife to the weak conscience of a brother or neighbour. Now this is base. Christians, in all such things as entrench not on matters of faith and worship, should be full of self-denial, and seek to please others rather than themselves; “giving none offence to the Jew, nor to the Greek, nor to the Church of God; not seeking their own profit, but the profit of many, that they may be saved.” (2.) And the second is as bad, to wit, when professors arc great prattlers, and talkers, and disputers, but do little of any thing that be- speaketh love to the poor or self-denial in out- ward things. Some people think religion is made up of words; a very wide mistake. Words without deeds is but a half-faced re- ligion. “Pure religion and undelilcd before God and the Father is this: To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep thyself unspotted from the world.” Again, “If a brother or a sister be destitute of daily food, and one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be wanned and filled, (which are very fine words,) yet if you give them not those things that are necessary to the body, what doth it profit?” Now, then, before I go any further, I will here take an occasion to touch a little upon those sins that are so rife in many professors in this day; and they are covetousness, pride, and- unclcanncss. I would speak a word to them in this place the rather because they are they which spoil both Christian brotherhood and civil neighbourhood in too great a meas- ure. First, for covetousness. 1. Covetousness, it is all one with desire; he that desires covets, whether the thing he de- sires be evil or good. Wherefore that which is called coveting in Ex. xx. 17 is called desire in Deut. v. 21. As the apostle also saith, “I had not known lust except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet.” Rom. vii. 7. That is, I had not known lust to be a sin unless the law had forbid it. Wherefore, though lawful de- sires are good (1 Cor. xii. 31) and to be com- mended, yet covetousness, as commonly under- stood, is to be fled from and abhorred, as of the devil. 2. Covetousness, or evil desire, it is the first mover, and giveth to every sin its call, as I may say, both to move and act; as was said before, The apostle had not known sin except the law had said, Thou shalt not desire, or covet, for where there is no desire to sin there appears no sin. 3. Therefore covetousness carrieth in it every' sin, (we speak of sins against the second table,) even as a serpent carrieth her young ones in her belly. This the Scripture affirms where it saith, “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife, nor his man-servant, nor his maid-ser- vant, nor his ox, nor his ass, nor any thing that is thy neighbour’s.” Covetousness will meddle with any thing. Now, there are in my mind at present these eight notes of covetousness, which hinder good 266 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. works and a Christian conversation among men wherever they are harboured: 1. When men to whom God hath given a comfortable livelihood are yet not content therewith. This is against the apostle, where he saith, “Let your conversation be without covetousness, and be content with such things as ye have, for he hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee.” 2. It is covetousness in the seller that puts him to say of his traffic it is better than it is, that he may heighten the price of it; and covetousness in the buyer that prompts him to say worse of the thing than he thinks in his conscience it is, and that for an abatement of a reasonable price. This is that which the apostle forbids under the name of defraud, and that which Solomon condemns. 3. It is through covetousness that men think much of that which goeth beside their own mouth, though possibly it goeth to those that have more need than themselves, and also that better deserve it than they. 4. It argueth covetousness when men will deprive themselves and those under them of the privileges of the Gospel for more of this World, and is condemned by Christ. 5. It argueth covetousness when men that have it can go by or hear of the poor, and shut up their bowels of compassion from them. 6. Also, when men are convinced it is their duty to communicate to such and such that have need, yet they defer it, and if not quite forget it, yet linger away the time, as being loth to distribute to the necessities of those in want. This is forbidden by the Holy Ghost: “Withhold not good from them to whom it is due, when it is in the power of thy hand to do it.” Now, it is due from thee to the poor by the commandment of God, if they want and thou hast it: “Say not then to thy neighbour, Go, and come again to-morrow, and I will give, when thou hast it by thee.” 7. It argueth a greedy mind also when, after men have cast in their minds what to give, they then from that will be pinching and clipping and taking away; whereas the Holy Ghost saith, “Every one as he purposeth in his heart so let him give, not grudgingly, nor of necessity ; for Qod loveth a cheerful giver.” Lastly. It argueth a filthy, greedy heart also when a man, after he hath done any good, then in his heart to repent and secretly wish that he had not so done, or at least that he had not done so much : this is to be weary of well- doing, (I speak now of communicating,) and carrieth in it two evils: First, it spoiieth the work done; and, secondly, it (if entertained) spoiieth the heart for doing any more so. The vile person shall be no more called liberal, nor the churl said to be bountiful ; for the liberal deviseth liberal things, and by liberal things he shall stand. Now, then, to dissuade all from this poison- ous sin, observe that above all sins in the New Testament this is called idolatry. And there- fore God’s people should be so far from being taken with it that they should be much afraid of the naming of it one among another, lest it should, as adulterous thoughts, infect the heart by talking of it. Question. But why is covetousness called idolatry ? Answer. Because it engageth the very heart of ih'an in it; to mind earthly things it gets our love, which should be set on God, and sets it upon poor empty creatures ; it puts our af- fections out of heaven, where they should be, and sets them on earth, where they should not be. Thus it cliangeth the object on which the heart should be set, and setteth it on that on which it should not. It makes a man forsake God, “ the fountain of living water, and caus- eth him to hew to himself cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water.” For, 2. It rejecteth the care, government, and providence of God towards us, and causeth us to make of our care and industry a god, to whom, instead of God, we fly continually, both for the keeping what we have and for getting more. This was Israel’s idolatry of old, and the original of all her idolatrous practices. Hos. ii. 5. “ For their mother hath played the harlot, (that is, committed idolatry :) she that con- ceived them hath done shamefully ; for she said, I will go after my lovers, that gave me my bread and waters, my wool and my flax, my oil and my drink.” 3. It disalloweth of God’s way of disposing his creatures, and would have them ordered and disjmsed of otherwise than to his heavenly wisdom seemeth meet ; and hence ariseth all discontents about God’s dealings with us. Covetousness never yet said, It is the Lord, let him do what he pleaseth ; but is ever object- ing, like a god, against every thing that goeth against it ; and it is that which, like a god, draweth away the heart and soul from the true God and his Son Jesus Christ : “ And he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.” Now, then, that which engageth the heart, that CHRISTIAN rejecteth tho providence of God, and that is for ordering and disposing of things contrary to God, and for breaking with God upon those terms is idolatry ; and all these do covetous- ness: “The wicked boasteth of his heart’s de- sire, and blesseth the covetous, whom the Lord abhorreth.” l’s. xx. 3. Now the way to rem- edy this disease is to learn the lesson which Paul had got by heart; to wit, “ In whatsoever state you are, therewith to be content.” I come, in the second jdacc, to speak a word of pride and loftiness of heart and life. 1. Pride in general it is which causeth a man to think of man and his things above what is written. 1 Cor. iv. 6. 2. It hath its seat in the heart among these enormities: fornications, adulteries, lascivious- ness, murders, deceit, etc., and skoweth itself in these following particulars : (1.) When you slight this or that person, though gracious — that is. look over them and shun them for their poverty in this world, and choose rather to have converse with others that possibly are less gracious, because of their greatness in this world — this the apostle James writes against under the name of partiality : “for indeed the fruits of a puffed-up heart is to deal in this manner with Christians.” Now this branch of pride floweth from ig- norance of the vanity of the creature and of the worth of a gracious heart : wherefore get more of the knowledge of these two, and, this sprig will be nipped in the head, and you will learn to condescend to men of low degree. (2.) It argues pride of heart when men will not deny themselves in things that they may, for the good and profit of their neighbours. And it arguetli now that pride has got so much up into self-love and self-pleasing that they little care who they grieve or offend, so they may have their way. (3.) It argueth pride of heart when sober reproofs for sin and unbeseeming carriages will not down with thee, but that rather thou snuff- est, and givest way to thy spirit to be peevish, and to retain prejudice against those that thus reprove thee. Saith the prophet, “Hear ye and give ear, Be not proud, for the Lord hath spoken that is, hear the reproofs of God for your sins, and break them off by repentance: “ But if you will not hear, ray soul shall weep in secret for your pride,” etc. So also in Hosea, “They will not frame their doing to turn unto their God, for the spirit of whoredom is in the midst of them : they have not known BEHAVIOUR. 2G7 the Lord, and the pride of Israel doth testify to his face.” This argueth great senselessness of God and a heart greatly out of frame. Pride also there is in outward carriage, be- haviour, and gesture, which is odious for Christians to be tainted with ; and this pride is discovered by mincing words, a made car- riage, and an affecting the toys and baubles that Satan and every light-hearted fool bring- eth into the world. As God speaketh of the daughters of Zion, “They walked with stretched-out necks, wanton eyes, mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet.” A very unhandsome carriage for peo- ple that profess godliness, and that used to come before God to confess their sins, and to bemoan themselves for what they have done. How can a sense of thy own baseness, of the vileness of thy heart, and of the holiness of God stand with such a carriage? From this I gather that this sin is a very predominant and master sin, easy to overtake the sinner, as being one of the first that is ready to offer itself at all occasions to break the law of God. 2. 1 observe that this sin is committed un- awares to many, even so soon as a man hath but looked upon a woman: “Isay unto you, (saith Christ,) that whosoever looketh on a woman to lust or desire after her, he hath already committed adultery with her in his heart.” This sin, I say, is a veiy taking sin ; it is natural above all sins to mankind; as it is most natural, so it wants not tempting occa- sions, having objects for to look on in every corner: wherefore there is need of a double and treble watchfulness in the soul against it. It is better here to make a covenant with our eyes, like Job, than to let them wander to God’s dishonour and our own discomfort. My friends, I am here treating of good works, and persuading you to fly those tilings that are hindrances to them ; wherefore bear with my plainness when I speak against sin. I would strike it through with every word, be- cause else it will strike us through with many sorrows. I do not treat of good works as if the doing of them would save us, (for we are justified by his grace, according to the hope of eternal life ;) yet your sins and evil works will lay us obnoxious to the judgments both of God and man. He that walketh not uprightly, accord- ing to the truth of the Gospel, is like to have 268 LUKYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. his peace assaulted often, both by the devil, the law, death, and bell ; yea, and is like to have God bide bis face from him also for the iniquity of bis covetousness. How can be that carrieth himself basely in the sight of men think be yet well behaveth himself in the sight of God ? and if so dim a light as is in man can justly count thee a trans- gressor, bow shall thy sins be hid from Him whose eyelids try the children of men? It is true, faith without works justifies us be- fore God : yet that faith that is alone will be found to leave us sinners in the sight both of God and man. Rom. iii. 28. And though thou addest nothing to that which saveth thee by what thou canst do, yet thy righteousness may profit the son of man, as also saith the text; but if thou shalt be so careless as to say, What care I for being righteous to profit others? I tell thee that the love of God is not in thee. Walk therefore in God’s ways, and do them, for this is your wisdom and your understand- ing in the sight of the nations which shall hear of all these statutes, and say, “ This great nation is a wise and understanding people.” III. Every believer should not only take heed that his works be good, and so for the present do them, but should carefully study to maintain them ; that is, to keep in a continual exercise of them. It is an easier matter to begin to do good than it is to continue therein ; and the reason is, there is not so much of a Christian’s cross in the beginning of a work as there is in a continual, hearty, conscientious practice there- of. Therefore Christians have need, as to be pressed to do good, so to continue the work. Man, by nature, is rather a hearer than a doer — Athenian-like, continually listening after some new thing; seeing many things, but ob- serving nothing. It is observable that after Christ had divided his hearers into four parts, he condemned three of them for fruitless hearers. Luke viii. 5-8. Oh it is hard contin- uing believing, continuing loving, continuing resisting all that opposeth; we are subject to be weary of well-doing. To pluck out right eyes, to cut off right hands and feet, is no pleasant thing to flesh and blood ; and yet none but these shall have the promise of life, because none but these will be found to have the effectual work of God’s grace in their souls: “If ye continue in my word, then are you my disciples [indeed.”] And hence it is, that you find so many i/s in the Scripture about men’s happiness ; as, “ if you be sons, then heirs;” and “if you continue in the faith ;” and “ if we hold the beginning of our confidence steadfast to the end.” Not that their continuing in the way of God is the cause of the work being right, hut the work being right causetli the continuance therein. As John saith in another place, “ They went out from us, because they were not of us ; for had they been of us, no doubt, saith lie, they would have continued with us.” But, I say, where the work of God indeed is savingly be- gun, even there is flesh, corruption, and the body of death to oppose it : therefore should Christians take heed, and look that against these oj)posites they maintain a continual course of good works among men. Besides, as there is that in our own bowels that opposeth goodness, so there is the tempter, the wicked one, both to animate these lusts and to join with them in every assault against every appearance of God in our souls. And hence it is that he is called the devil, the enemy, the destroyer, and him that seeks con- tinually to devour us. I need say no more but this : He that will walk like a Christian in- deed, as he shall find it is requisite that he continue in good works, so his continuing therein will be oj^posed ; if therefore he will continue therein, he must make it his business to study how to oppose those that oppose such a life, that he may continue therein. IV. Now, then, to help in this, here fitly comes in the last observation, to wit: That the best way both to provoke ourselves and others to good works is to be often affirming to others the doctrine of justification by grace, and to believe it ourselves. This is a faithful saying, “ And these things I will that thou affirm con- stantly, that those which have believed in God might be careful to maintain good works.” I told you before that good works must flow from faith ; and now I tell you that the best way to be fruitful in them is to be much in the exercise of the doctrine of justification by grace, and they both agree ; for as faith ani- mates to good works, so the doctrine of grace animates faith. Wherefore, the way to be rich in good works is to be rich in faith ; and the way to be rich in faith is to be conscientiously affirming the doctrine of grace to others, and believing it ourselves. First, To be constantly affirming it to others. Thus Paul tells Timothy that if he put the brethren in mind of the truths of the Gospel, he himself should not only be a good minister CHRISTIAN BEIIA VIOUR. 2G9 of Christ, but should be nourished up in the words of faith and of good doctrine. It is the ordinance of God that Christians should be often asserting the things of God each to others, and that by their so doing they should edify one another. The doctrine of the Gospel is like the dew and the small rain that distilleth upon the tender grass, wherewith it doth flourish and is kept green. Christians are like the several flowers in a garden, that have upon each of them the dew of heaven, which being shaken with the wind, they let fall their dew at each other’s roots, whereby they are jointly nourished and be- come nourishers of one another ; for Christians to commune savourly of God’s matters one with another is as if they opened to each other’s nostrils boxes of perfume. Saitli Paul to the church at Rome, “ I long to see you, that I may impart unto you some spiritual gift, to the end you may be established ; that is, that I may be comforted together with you by the mutual faith both of you and me.” Christians should be often affirming the doctrine of grace and justification by it one to another. Secondly. As they should be thus doing, so they should live in the power of it themselves; they should by faith suck and drink in this doctrine as the good ground receiveth the rain ; which being done, forthwith there is proclaimed good works. Paul to the Colos- sians said thus, “ We give thanks to God, and the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, praying always for you, since we heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and love to all the saints; for the hope which is laid up in heaven for you, whereof ye heard before in the word of the truth of the Gospel, which is come unto you, as it is also in all the world, and bringeth forth fruit, as it doth also in you.” But how long ago? Why, since the day ye heard it, saith he, and knew the grace of God in truth. Apples and flowers are not made by the gardener, but are an effect of the planting and watering. Plant in the sinner good doctrine, and let it be watered with the word of grace; and as the effect of that there is the fruits of holiness and the end everlasting life. Good doctrine is the doctrine of the Gospel, which showeth to men that God clothed them with the righteousness of his Son freely, and maketli him with all his benefits over to them, by which free gift the sinner is made righteous before God; and because he is so, therefore there is infused a principle of grace into the heart, whereby it is both quickened and bring- eth forth fruit. Now, then, seeing good works do flow from faith, and seeing faith is nourished by an affirming of the doctrine of the Gospel, &c., take here these few considerations from the doctrine of the Gospel for the support of thy faith, that thou mayest be indeed fruitful and rich in good works : 1. The whole Bible was given for this very end, that thou shouldst both believe this doc- trine, and live in the comfort and sweetness of it; for whatever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the Scriptures might have hope. 2. That therefore every promise in the Bible is thine, to strengthen, quicken, and encourage thy heart in believing. 3. Consider that there is nothing that thou dost can so please God as believing: “The Lord takes pleasure in them that fear him, in them that hope in his mercy.” They please him, because they embrace his righteousness, &c. 4. Consider that all the with drawings of God from thee arc not for the weakening, but for the trial of thy faith ; and also that what- ever he suffers Satan or thy own heart to do, it is not to weaken faith. 5. Consider that believing is that which will keep in thy view the things of heaven and glory, and that at which the devil will be dis- couraged, sin weakened, and the heart quick- ened and sweetened. Lastly. By believing the love of God is kept with warmth upon the heart, and that this will provoke thee continually to bless God for Christ, for grace, for faith, hope, and all these things, either in God or thee, that doth accom- pany salvation. 1. The doctrine of the forgiveness of sins received by faith will make notable work in the heart of a sinner to bring forth good works. But, secondly : Forasmuch as there is a body of death and sin in every one that hath the grace of God in this world, and because this body of death will be ever opposing that which is good, as the apostle saith, therefore take these few particulars further for the suppress- ing that which will hinder a fruitful life : 1. Keep a continual watch over the wretch- edness of thy own heart, (not to be discouraged at the sight of thy vileness,) but to prevent its wickedness ; for that will labour either to bin- 270 BUNT AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. der thee from doing good works, or else will hinder thee in the doing thereof ; for evil, is present with thee for both these purposes. Take heed, then, that thou do not listen to that at any time, but deny, though with much struggling, the workings of sin to the contrary. 2. Let this be continually before thy heart, that God’s eye is upon thee, and seetli every secret turning of thy heart, either to or from him: “All things are naked and bare before the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.” 3. If thou deny to do that good which thou oughtest with what thy God hath given thee, then consider that though he love thy soul, yet he can chastise' — first, thy inward man with such troubles that thy life shall be rest- less and comfortless ; secondly, and can also so blow upon thy outward man that all thou get- test shall be put in a bag with holes. And should he license but one thief among thy substance, or one spark of fire among thy barns, how quickly might that be spent ill and against thy will which thou shouldst have spent to God’s glory and with thy will ! And I tell thee further, that if thou want a heart to do good when thou hast about thee, thou may- est want comfort in such things thyself from others when thine is taken from thee. 4. Consider that a life full of good works is the only way, on thy part, to answer the mercy of God extended to thee ; God hath had mercy on thee, and hath saved thee from all thy dis- tresses ; God hath not stuck to give thee his Son, his Spirit, and the kingdom of heaven. Saith Paul, “ I beseech you therefore, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice to God, holy, acceptable, which is your reasonable service.” 5. Consider that this is the way to convince all men that the jmwer of God’s things hath taken hold of thy heart, (I speak to them that hold the head ;) and say what thou wilt, if thy faith be not accompanied with a holy life thou shalt be judged a withered branch, a wordy professor, salt without savour, and as lifeless as a sounding brass and a tinkling cymbal. For, say they, show us your faith by your works, for we cannot see your hearts. But I say on the contrary, if thou walk as becomes one who art saved by grace, then thou wilt witness in every man’s conscience that thou art a good tree ; now thou leavest guilt on the heart of the wicked ; now thou takest off oc- casion from them that desire occasion ; and now thou art clear from the blood of all men. This is the man also that provoketh others to good works : The ear that heareth such a man shall bless him, and the eye that seeth him shall bear witness to him. “Surely (saith David) he shall never be moved : the right- eous shall be had in everlasting remembrance.” 6. Again, The heart. that is fullest of good works hath in it least room for Satan’s tempta- tions ; and this is the meaning of Peter where he saith, “ Be sober, be vigilant : ” that is, be busying thyself in faith and holiness, “ for the devil, your adversary, goeth about like a roar- ing lion, seeking whom he may devour.” He that walketh uprightly walketh safely ; and he that adds to faith, virtue ; to virtue, knowledge ; to knowledge, temperance ; to temperamce, brotherly kindness ; and to these charity, and that abounds therein, he shall neither be bar- ren nor unfruitful, (he shall never fall,) but so an entrance shall be ministered to him abund- antly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. 7. The man who is fullest of good works is fittest to live and fittest to die : “ I am now (at any time) ready to be offered up,” saith fruitful Paul. Whereas he that is barren is neither fit to live nor fit to die : to die, he himself is con- vinced he is not fit: and to live, God himself saith he is not fit ; “ cut him down, why doth he cumber the ground ?” Thus have I, in few words, written to you (before I die) a word to provoke you to faith and holiness, because I desire that you may have the life that is laid up for all them that believe in the Lord Jesus and love one another, when I am deceased. ' Though there I shall rest from my labours, and be in paradise, as through grace I comfortably believe, yet it is not there, but here, I must do you good. Wherefore, I, not knowing the shortness of my life, nor the hindrance that hereafter I may have of serving my God and you, have taken this opportunity to present these few lines unto you for your edification. Consider what hath been said, and the Lord give you understanding in all things. Farewell. SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED; OR, GOSPEL LIGHT BROUGHT OUT OF THE TEMPLE AT JERUSALEM, TO LET US MORE FULLY INTO THE GLORY OF NEW TESTAMENT TRUTHS. Thnu son of man, show tho house to the honso of Israel — show the form of the house, and the fashion there, of, and tho goings out thereof, and the comings in thereof, and all the forms thereof, and all the ordinances thereof, and all tho forms thereof, and all the laws thereof. — E zek. xliii. 10, 11. TO TIIE CHRISTIAN READER. Courteous Christian Reader : I have, as thou by this little book mayest see, adventured, at this time, to do my en- deavour to show thee something of the gospel- glory of Solomon’s Temple: that is, of what it, with its utensils, was a type of; and, as such, how instructing it was to our fathers, and also is to us their children. The which, that I might do the more distinctly, I have handled particulars one by one, to the number of three- score and ten ; namely, all of them f could call to mind : because, as I believe, there was not one of them but had its signification, and so something profitable for us to know. For, though we are not now to worship God in these methods, or by such ordinances as once the old church did, yet to know their methods, and to understand the nature and signification of their ordinances, when com- pared with the Gospel, may, even now, when themselves, as to what they once enjoined on others, are dead, minister light unto us. And hence the New Testament ministers, as the apostles, made much use of Old Testament language and ceremonial institutions as to their signification, to help the faith of the godly in their preaching of the Gospel of Christ. I may say that God did in a manner tie up the church of the Jews to types, figures, and similitudes ; I mean, to be butted and bounded by them in all external parts of worship. Yea, not only the Levitical law and temple, but as it seems to me the whole land of Canaan, the place of their lot to dwell in. was to them a ceremonial or a figure. Their land was a type of heaven, their passage over Jordan into it a similitude of our going to heaven by death. The fruit of their land was said to be uncir- cumcised, as being at their first entrance thither unclean ; in which their land was also a figure of another thing, even as heaven was a type of grace and glory. Again, the very land itself was said to keep sabbath, and so to rest a holy rest even then when she lay desolate, and not possessed of those to whom she was given for them to dwell in. Yea, many of the features of the then Church of God were set forth, as in figures and shadows, so by places and things, in that land. 1. In general, she is said to be beautiful as Tirzah, (Song vi. 4,) and to be comely as Jerusalem. 2. In particular, her neck is compared to the tower of David, builded for an armoury, (Song iv.4;) her eyes to the fishpoolsof Hesh- bon, by the gate of Bethrabbim, (chap. vii. 4;) her nose is compared to the tower of Lebanon, which looketh toward Damascus, (chap. iv. 1 ;) yea, the hair of her head is compared to a flock of goats which come up from Mount Gilead, and the smell of her garments to the smell of Lebanon. Verse 11. 271 272 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Nor was this land altogether void of shadows even of her Lord and Saviour. Hence he says of himself, “ I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the valleys.” Song ii. 1. Also she, his beloved, saith of him, “ His countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars.” What shall I say? The two cities, Sion and Jeru- salem, were such as sometimes set forth the two churches, (Gal. iv.,) the true and the false, and their seed, Isaac and Ishmael. I might also here show you that even the gifts and graces of the true Church were set forth by the spices, nuts, grapes, and pome- granates that the land of Canaan brought forth ; yea, that hell itself was set forth by the valley of the sons of Hinnom and Tophet, places in this country. Indeed, the whole, in a manner, was a typical and fig- urative thing. But I have, in the ensuing discourse, con- fined myself to the temple, that immediate place of God’s worship, of whose utensils in particular, as I have said, I have spoken, (though to each with what brevity I could,) for that none of them are without a spiritual, and so a profitable, signification to us. And here we may behold much of the rich- ness of the wisdom and grace of God ; namely, that he, even in the very place of worship of old, should ordain visible forms and repre- sentations for the rvorshippers to learn to worship him by; yea, the temple itself was, as to this, to them a good instruction. But in my thus saying I give no encourage- ment to any now to fetch out of their own fancies figures of similitudes to worship God by. What God provided to be an help to the weakness of his people of old was one thing, and what they invented without his com- mandment was another. For though they had his blessing when they worshipped him with such types, shadows, and figures which he had enjoined them for that purpose, yet he sorely punished and plagued them when they would add to these inventions of their own. Yea, he, in the very act of instituting their way of worshipping him, forbade their giving (in any thing) way to their own humours or fancies, and bound them strictly to the orders of heaven. “Look,” said God to Moses, their first great legislator, “ that thou make all things ac- cording to the pattern showed thee in the mount.” Nor doth our apostle but take the same measures when he saith, “ If any man think- eth himself a prophet or spiritual, let him acknowledge that the things that I write unto you are the commandments of the Lord.” When Solomon also was to build this tem- ple for the worship of God, though he was wiser than all men, yet God neither trusted to his wisdom, nor memory, nor to any immedi- ate dictates from heaven to him, as to how he would have him build It. No; he was to re- ceive the whole platform -thereof in writing by the inspiration of God. . Nor would God give this platform of the temple and of the utensils immediately to this wise man, lest perhaps by others his wisdom should be idolized, or that some should object that the whole fashion thereof proceeded of his fancy, only he made pretensions of divine revelation as a cover for his doings. Therefore, I say, not to him, but to his father David, was the whole pattern of it given from heaven, and so by David to Solo- mon his son in writing. “Then David,” says the text, “gave to Solomon his son, the pat- tern of the porch, and of the houses thereof, and of the treasures thereof, and of the upper chambers thereof, and of the inner parlours thereof, and of the place of the mercy-seat. And the pattern of all that he- had by the Spirit, of the courts of the house of the Lord, and of all the chambers round about, and of the treasuries of the house of God, and of the treasuries of the dedicated things, also for the courses of the priests and Levites, and for all the work of the service of the house of the Lord, and for all the vessels of service in the house of the Lord.” Yea, moreover, he had from heaven, or by divine revelation, what the candlesticks must be made of, and also how much was to go to each ; the same order and commandment he also gave for the making of the tables, flesh- hooks, cups, basons, altar of incense, with the pattern for the chariot of the cherubims, &c “ All this,” said David, “ the Lord made me understand by writing his hand upon me, even all the work of this pattern.” So, I say, he gave David the pattern of the tem- ple; so David gave Solomon the pattern of the temple; and according to that pat- tern did Solomon build the temple, and not otherwise. True, all these were but figures, patterns, and shadows of things in the heavens, and not the very image of the things : but, as was said be- fore, if God was so circumspect and exact in these as not to leave any thing to the dictates SOLOMON’S TEMI’LE SPIRITUALIZED. 273 of the godly and wisest of men, what! can we suppose lie will now admit of the wisdom and contrivance of men in those things that are, in comparison to them, the heavenly things them- selves ? It is also to be concluded that since those shadows of things in the heavens are already committed by God to sacred story, and since that sacred story is said to be able to make the man of God perfect in all things, (2 Tim. iii. lb, 1G, 17,) it is duty in us to leave off to lean to common understandings, and to inquire and search out by that very holy writ, and naught else, by what and how we should worship God. David was for inquiring in his temple. Ps. xxvii. 4. And although the old church way of worship is laid aside as to us in New Testament times, yet since those very ordinances were figures of things and methods of worship, now we may — yea, we ought to — search out the spiritual mean- ing of them, because they serve to confirm and illustrate matters to our understanding. Yea, they show us the more exactly how the New and Old Testament, as to the spiritualness of the worship, were one and the same ; only the old was clouded with shadows, but ours is with more open face. 18 Features to the life, as we say, set out by a picture, do excellently show the skill of the artist. The Old Testament had but the shadow, nor have we but the very image; both, then, are but emblems of what is yet behind. We may find our Gospel clouded in their ceremo- nies, and our spiritual worship set out some- what by their carnal ordinances. Now because, as I said, there lies, as wrapt up in a mantle, much of the glory of our gospel- matters in this temple which Solomon built, therefore I have made, as well as I could, by comparing spiritual things with spiritual, this book upon this subject. I dare not presume to say that I know I have hit right in every thing, but this I can say, 1 have endeavoured so to do. True, I have not for these things fished in other men’s waters ; my Bible and Concordance are my only library in my writings. Wherefore, courteous reader, if thou findcst any thing, either in word or matter, that thou shalt judge doth vary from God’s truth, let it be counted uo man’s else but mine. Pray God also to pardon my fault : do thou also lovingly pass it by, and receive what thou findcst will do thee good. Thy servant in the Gospel, JOHN BUNYAN. THE GLORY OF THE TEMPLE; OR, SOLOMON'S TEMPLE, AND THE MATERIALS THEREOF, SPIRITUALIZED. I. Where the Temple was Built. The temple was built at Jerusalem, on Mount Moriah, in the threshing-floor of Arnon the Jebusite; whereabout Abraham offered up Isaac ; there where David met the angel of the Lord when he came with his sword drawn in his hand to cut off the people of Jerusalem for the sin which David committed in his dis- orderly numbering of the people. Gen. xxii. 3, 4, 5 ; 1 Chron. xxi. 1 5 ; ch. xxii. 1 ; 2 Chron. iii. 1. There Abraham received his son Isaac from the dead; there the Lord was entreated by David to take away the plague, and to return to Israel again in mercy : from whence also David gathered that there God’s temple must be built.- “This,” saith he, “is the house of the Lord God, and this is the altar of the burnt-offering for Israel.” This Mount Moriah, therefore, was a type of the Son of God, the mountain of the Lord’s house, the rock against which the gates of hell cannot prevail. II. Who Built the Temple. The temple was built by Solomon, a man peaceable and quiet; and that in name, by nature, and in governing. For so God before told David — namely, that such a one the build- er of the temple should be. “ Behold,” saith he, “ a son shall be born unto thee, who shall be a man of rest; and I / will give him rest from all his enemies round- about: for his name shall be called Solomon, and 1 will give peace and quietness to Israel in Ills days. He shall build an house for my name, and he shall be my son. I will be his father.” As, therefore, Mount Moriah was a type of Christ as the foundation, so Solomon was a type of him as the builder of his Church. The mount was signal, for that thereon the Lord 274 God, before Abraham and David, did display his mercy. And as Solomon built this temple, so Christ doth build his house ; “ Yea, ye shall build the everlasting temple, and ye shall bear the glory.” And in that Solomon was called peaceable, it was to show with what peaceable doctrine and ways Christ’s house and Church should be built. Isa. ix. 6; Mic. vii. 2, 3, 4. III. How the Temple was Built. The temple was built not merely by the dic- tates of Solomon, though he was wiser than Ethan, and Heman, and Calcol, and Darda, and all men, (1 Kings iv. 31,) but it was built by rules prescribed by or in a written word, and as so delivered to him by his father David. For when David gave to Solomon his son a charge to build the temple of God, with that charge he gave him also the pattern of all in writing; even a pattern of the porch, house, chambers, treasuries, parlours, &c., and of the place for the merev-seat, which pattern David had of God, nor would God trust his memory with it. “ The Lord made me,” said he, “ un- derstand in writing, by his hand upon me, even all the work of this pattern.” Thus therefore David gave to Solomon his son the pattern of all ; and thus Solomon his son built the house of God. • See 1 Chron. xxviii. 9-20. And answerable to this, Christ Jesus, the Builder of his own house, whose house are we, doth build his holy habitation for him to dwell in, even according to the commandment of God the Father; for, saith he, “I have not spoken of myself, but the Father which sent me. lie gave a commandment what I should speak.” And hence it is said God gave him the revelation ; and again, that he took the book out of the hand of Him that SOLOMON’S TEMPI sat on the throne, and so acted, as to the building up of his Church. John xii. 40, 41 ; Rev. i. 1 ; chap. v. 5. IV. Of what the Temple ivcis Built. The materials with which the temple was built were such as were in their own nature common to that which was left behind — things that naturally were not lit, without art, to be laid in so holy a house. And this shows that those of whom Christ Jesus designs to build his Church are by nature no better than others ; but as the trees and stones of which the temple was built were first hewed and squared before they wore fit to be laid in that house, so sinners, of which the Church is to be built, must first be fitted by the word and doc- trine, and then fitly laid in their place in the Church. For though, as to nature, there is no differ- ence betwixt those made use of to build God’s house, yet by grace they differ from others; even as those trees and stones that are hewed and squared for building by art are made to differ from those which abide in the wood or pit. The Lord Jesus, therefore, while lie seelceth materials wherewith to build his house, he findeth them the clay of the same lump that he rejecteth and leaveth behind. “Are we bet- ter than they? No, in nowise.” Nay, I think if any be best, it is they which are left be- hind : “ He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” And indeed in this lie doth show both the greatness of his grace and workmanship — liis grace in taking such, and his workmanship in that he makes them meet for his holy habitation. This the current of Scripture maketli man- ifest, wherefore it is needless now to cite par- ticulars; only we must remember that none are laid in this building as they come out of the wood or pit, but as they first pass under the hand and rule of this great Builder of the temple of God. V. Who was to Fell those Trees and to Dig those Stones with which Solomon Built the Temple. As the trees were to be felled and stones to be digged, so there was for that matter select workmen appointed. These were not of the sons of Jacob nor of the house of Israel ; they were the servants of Hiram, king of Tyre, and the Gibeonites ; namely, their children that made a league with Joshua in the day that God gave the land of E SPIRITUALIZED. 275 Canaan to his people. Josh. ix. 22, 20; 1 Kings v. ; 2 Chron. xxvii. 28. And these were types of our Gospel minis- ters, who are the men appointed by Jesus Christ to make sinners, by their preaching, meet for the house of God. Wherefore, as he was famous of old who was strong to lift up his axe upon the thick houghs, to square wood for the building of the temple, so a minister of the Gospel now is also famous if much used by Christ for the converting of sinners to himself, that lie may build him a temple with them. Ps. vii. 4, 5, G; Rom. xvi. 7. But why, some may say, do you make so homely a comparison? I answer, Because I believe it is true ; for it is grace not gifts that makes us sons and the beloved of God. Gifts make a minister; and as a minister one is but a servant to hew wood and draw water for the house of my God. Yea Paul, though a son, yet counted himself not a son, but a servant, purely as he was a minister — a servant of God, a servant of Christ, a servant of the Church, and your servant for Jesus’ sake. Tit. i. 1 ; Rom. i. 1 ; 2 Cor. iv. 5. A man then is a son as he is begotten and born of God to himself, and a servant as be is gifted for work in the house of his Father ; and though it is truth the servant may be a son, yet he is not a son because he is a servant. Nor doth it follow that because all sons may be servants, therefore all servants are sons ; no, all the servants of God are not sons; and there- fore when time shall come he that is only a servant here shall certainly be put out of the house, even out of that house himself did help to build. “ The servant abideth not in the house for ever ;” the servant, that is, he that is only so. So, then, as a son thou art an Israelite; as a servant, a Gibeonite. The consideration of this made Paul start ; he knew that gifts made him not a son. 1 Cor. xii. 28, 29, 30, 31 ; and xiii. 1, 2. The sum, then, is, a man may be a servant, and a son — a servant, as he is employed by Christ in his house for the good of others; and a son, as he is a partaker of the grace of adoption : but all servants are not sons : and let this be for a caution and a call to ministers to do all acts of service for God and in his house with reverence and godly fear ; and with all humility let us desire to be partakers our- selves of that grace we preach to others. 1 Cor. ix. 25. This is a great saying, and written perhaps 276 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to keep ministers humble: “And strangers shall stand and feed your flocks, and the sons of the alien shall be your ploughmen and your vine-dressers.” To be a ploughman here is to be a preacher; and to be a vine-dresser here is to be a preacher. And if he does this work willingly he has a reward; if not, a dispensation of the Gospel was committed to him, and that is all. 1 Cor. ix. 17. VI. In what condition the, Timber and Stones were when brought to be laid in the Building of the Temple. The timber and stones with which the tem- ple was built were squared and hewed at the wood or pit, and so there made every way fit for that work, even before they were brought to the place where the house was set up. “So that neither hammer, nor axe, nor any tool of iron, was heard in the house while it was in building.” And this shows, as was said before, that the materials of which the house was built were (before the hand of the workmen touched them) as unfit to he laid in the building as were those that were left behind ; conse- quently, that themselves none otherwise but hv the art of others were ma^de fit to be laid in this building. To this our New Testament temple answers. For those of the sons of Adam who are counted worthy to he laid in this building are not by nature, but by grace, made meet for it ; not by their own wisdom, hut by the word of God. Hence he saith, “I have hewed them by the prophets.” And again, ministers are called God’s builders and labourers even as to this work. Hos. vi. 5 ; 1 Cor. iii. 10 : 2 Cor. vi. 1 : Col. i. 28. No man will lay trees as they come from the wood for beams and rafters in his house, nor stones as digged in the walls. No, the trees must be hewed and squared, and the stones sawn and made fit, and so be laid in his house. Yea, they must be so sawn and so squared that in coupling they may be joined exactly; else the building will not be good, nor the workman have credit of his doings. Hence our Gospel Church, of which the temple was a type, is said to be fitly formed, and that there is a fit supply of every joint for the securing of the whole. 1 Pet. iii. 4 ; Eph. iv. 20, 21; iv. 16; Col. ii. 19. As they therefore build like children that build with wood as it comes from the wood or forest, and with stones as they come from the pit, even so do they who pretend to build God a house of unconverted sinners, unhewed, un- squared, unpolished. Wherefore God’s work- men, according to God’s advice, prepare their work without, and make it fit for themselves in the field, and afterwards build the house. Prov. xxiv. 27. Let ministers therefore look to this, and take heed lest instead of making their notions stoop to the word, they make the Scriptures stoop to their notions. VII. Of the Foundation of the Temple. The foundation of the temple is that upon which it stood : and it was twofold — first, the hill Moriah, and then those great stones upon which it was erected. The hill Moriah, as was said afore, did more properly typify Christ. Hence Moriah is called “the mountain of the house,” it being the rock on which it was built. Those great stones, called “foundation stones,” were types of the prophets and apostles. Matt, xvi. 18 ; Eph. ii. 20, 21 ; Heb. xi. 10. Wherefore these stones were stones of the biggest size, stones of eight cubits and stones of ten cubits. 1 Kings vii. 10. Now, as the temple had this double founda- tion, so we must consider it respectively and distinctly; for Christ is the foundation one way, the prophets and apostles a foundation another. Christ is the foundation personally and meritoriously, but the prophets and apos- tles, by doctrine, ministerially. The Church then, which is God’s New Testament temple, is said to be built on Christ the foundation ; so none other is the foundation but he. 1 Cor. iii. 11. But as it is said to be built upon the apostles, so it is said to have twelve founda- tions, and must have none but they. Eev. xxi. 14. What is it, then? Why, we must be build- ing upon Christ, as he is our priest, sacrifice, prophet, king, and advocate, and upon the others, as they are infallible instructors and preachers of him ; not that any may be an apostle that so shall esteem himself, nor that any other doctrine be administered but what is the doctrine of the twelve; for they are set forth as the chief and last. These are also they, as Moses, which are to look over all the building, and to see that all in this house be done according to the pattern showed them in the mount. SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 277 Lot us, (lien, keep these distinctions clear, and not put an apostle in the room of Christ, nor Christ in the place of one of those apos- tles. Let none but Christ be the high priest and sacrifice for 'your souls to God; and none but that doctrine which is apostolical be to you as the mouth of Christ for instruction to prepare you, and to prepare materials for this temple of God, and to build them upon this foundation. VIII. Of the Richness of the Stones which were laid for the Foundation of the Temple. These foundation stones, as they were great, so they were costly stones; though, as I said, themselves of no more worth than they of their nature that were left behind. Their costliness, therefore, lay in those additions which they received from the king’s charge. First, in that labour which was bestolved upon them in sawing, squaring, and carving. For the servants, as they were cunning at this work, so they bestowed much of their art and labour upon them, by which they put them into excellent form, and added to their big- ness, glory and beauty, fit for stones upon which a goodly fabric was to be built. Secondly, these stones as they were thus wrought within and without, so, as it seems to me, they were inlaid with other stones more precious than themselves. Inlaid, I say, with stones of divers colours, according as it is written, “ I will lay thy foundation with sap- phires.” Not that the foundations were sap- phires, but they were laid inlaid with them; or, as he saith in another place, “They were adorned with goodly stones and gifts.” This is still more amplified where it is writ- ten of the New Jerusalem, (which is still the testament Church on earth, and so the same in substance with what is now,) “ The foundations of the wall of the city,” saith he, “ were gar- nished with all manner of precious stones.” True, these there are called “ the foundations of the wall of the city,” but it has respect to the matter in hand; for that which is before called a temple, for its comparative smallness, is here called a city, for or because of its great increase ; and both the foundations of the wall of the city, as well as of the temple, “ are the twelve apos- tles of the Lamb ;” for these carvings and inlay- ings, with all other beautifications, were types of the extraordinary gifts and graces of the apos- tles. Hence the apostle calls such gifts signs of apostleship. Rom. xv. 19 ; 2 Cor. xii. 21 ; Ilcb. ii. 4. For as the foundation stones of the temple were thus garnished, so were the apostles beautified with a call, gifts, and graces peculiar to themselves. I Ience he says, “ First apostles,” for that they were first and chief in the Church of Christ. 1 Cor. xii. 28. Nor were these stones only laid for a founda- tion for the temple; for the great court, the inner court, as also the porch of the temple, had round about them “three rows of these stones for their foundation.” Signifying, as seems to me, that the more outward and external part, as well as that more internal worship to be performed to God, should be grounded upon apostolical doctrine and ap- pointments. 1 Cor. iii. 10, 11, 12; 2 Thess. ii. 15; iii. 6; Ileb. vi. 1-5. IX. Wiich way the Face or Front of the Temple t stood. The temple was built with its face or front towards the east, and that, perhaps, because the glory of the God of “ Israel was to come from the way of the cast unto it.” Wherefore, in that its front stood towards the cast, it may be to show that the true Gospel Church would have its eye to and expectation from the Lord. We look, said Paul, but whither? “ We have our conversation,” said he, “in heaven, from” whence our expectation is. 2. It was set also with its face towards the east to keep the people of God from commit- ting of idolatry — to wit, from worshipping the host of heaven and the sun, whose rising is from the east. For since the face of the temple stood towards the east, and since the worship- pers were to worship at or with their faces towards the temple, it follows that both in their going to and worshipping God towards that place their faces must be from and their backs towards the sun. The thus building of the temple, therefore, was a snare to idolaters, and a proof of the zeal of those 1 hat were the true worshippers, as also to this day the true Gospel- instituted worship of Jesus Christ is. Hence he is said to idolaters to be a snare and a trap, but to the godly a glory. Isa. viii. 14; ix. 19. 3. Do but see how God catelied the idola- trous Jews, by this means, in their naughti- ness : “ And he brought me,” said the prophet, “ into the inner court of the Lord’s house, and behold, at the door of the temple of the Lord, even between the porch and the altar, were about five and twenty men, with their backs towards the temple of the Lord and their faces towards the east.” 278 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. It was therefore, as I said, set .with its face towards the east to prevent false worships and detect idolaters. 4. From the east also came the most blasting winds — winds that are destructive to man and beasts, to fruit and trees, and ships at sea. Ex. x. 13; Job xxvii. 21 ; Ezek. xvii. 10; and xix. 12; Ps. xlviii. 7 ; Ezek. xxvii. 26. I say the east wind, or that which comes from thence, is the most hurtful ; yet you see the temple hath set her face against it to show that the true Church cannot be blasted or made turn back by any affliction. It is not the east winds, nor none of their blastings, that can make the temple turn about. Hence he saith that Jacob’s face shall not wax pale. And again, “ I have made thy face strong against their faces, and that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Isa. xxix. 22 ; Ezek. iii. 8 ; Matt. xvi. 18. 5. It might be also built with its face to- wards the east to show' that the true Church looketh, as afore I hinted, for her Lord and King from heaven, knowing that at his com- ing he will bring healing in his wdngs ; for from the east he will appear when he comes the second time without sin unto salvation, of w'hich the sun gives us a memento in his rising there every morning. “For as the lightning cometli out of the east, and shineth unto the W'est, so shall also the coming of the Son of Man be.” 6. Christ, as the north pole, draws those touched with the loadstone of his word, wdth the face of their souls tow'ards him, to look for and hasten to his coming. And this also is signified by the temple standing with its face towards the east. X. Of the Courts of the Temple. I perceive that there are two courts belong- ing to the temple. The first w r as called the outw'ard court. Ezek. xl. 17 ; xlvi. 21. 1. This was that into which the people of necessity first entered when they went to wor- ship in the temple ; consequent!)' that was it in and by which the people did first show their desires to be the worshippers of God. And this answers to those badges and signs .of love to religion that people have in face or out- w'ard appearance. Matt. xxv. 27 ; 2 Cor. x. 7. 2. In this, though here may sometimes be truth, yet oftener lies and dissimulation ; wherefore commonly an outward appearance is set in opposition to faith and truth, as the outward is in opposition to the inner court, and outward to the inner man ; and that is when it is by itself, for then it profits nothing. 3. Hence, though the outward court was something to the Jews, because by outward bodies they were distinguished from the Gen- tiles, yet to us it is little, for now' he is not a Jew w r ho is one only outw'ardly. Therefore all the time of the beast’s reign this court is given to be trodden under foot; for, as I said, out- ward show' Will avail nothing w'hen the beast comes to turn and toss up professors with his horns. Rev. xi. 12. 4. But as there was an outward, so there was an inner court — a court that stood nearer to the temple, and so to the true practical part of worship, than that outward court did. , 5. This inner court is that which is called “ the court of the priests,” because it was it in which they boiled the trespass-offering, and in which they prepared the sin-offering for the people. 6. This court, therefore, w'as the place of practice and of preparation to appear before God, which is the first true token of a sincere and honest mind. Wherefore here, and not in the outw'ard court, stood the great brazen altar, which w’as a type of Christ, by whom alone true worshippers make their approach with acceptance unto God. Also here stood the great brazen scaffold, on which the king kneeled w'hen he prayed for the people, a type of Christ’s prayers for his when he was in the world. 2 Chron. vi.; John xiii. 17. 7. Wherefore this court w'as a type of prac- tical w'orship, and so of our praying, hearing, and eating before God. There belonged to this court several gates, an east, a south, and a north gate; and when the people of the land went into this court to w'orship, they were not to go out at the gate by which fliey came in, but out of the gate over against it, to show that true Christians should persevere right on, and not turn back, whatever they meet with in the w r ay. “He that enteretli in by the way of the north gate to worship shall go out by the way of the south gate; and he that en- tereth in by the way of the north gate, he shall not return by the way of the gate w'hereby he came in, but shall go forth over against it.” 8. These courts were places of great delight to the Jews, as both feigned and sincere profession is to those that practise therein. Wherefore, when the Jew's did enter into these, they did use to do it with praise and pipe, as do both hypocrites and sincere ones. So then, w'hen a man shall tread in both these courts, SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 279 and shall turn what lie seems to be into what he should be in reality, then, and not till then, he treads them as he should ; for then lie makes the outward court, and his treading there, but a passage to that which is more inward and sincere. But he that stays in the outward one is but such an one as pleases not God, for that he wants the practice of what he professes with his mouth. XI. Of the great Brazen Altar that stood in the Inner Court of the Temple. In the inner court stood the great brazen altar which Solomon made. This is evident, for that when he kneeled upon the scaffold to pray he kneeled before this altar. Sec Ex. xl. 6, 29. 2. This altar seems to be placed about the middle of this court, over against the porch of the house ; and between it and the temple was the place where Zechariah was slain. This altar was called “the altar of burnt-offering,” and therefore it was a type of Christ in his dignity. For Christ’s body was our true burnt- offering, of which the bodies of the sacrificed beasts were a type : now that altar upon which his body was offered was his divinity or God- head, for that, and that only, could bear up that offering in the whole of its sufferings: and that therefore, and that only, was to re- ceive the fat, the glory. Hence it is said, “He through the eternal Spirit offered himself with- out spot to God.” 3. For Christ is priest, and sacrifice, and altar, and all. And as a priest he offered, as a sacrifice he suffered, and as God he supported his humanity in that suffering of all the pains it underwent. Gal. i. 4; ch. ii. 20; 1 Pet. iii. 18; Heb. ix. 14. 4. It was then Christ’s Godhead, not the tree, that was the altar of burnt-offering, or that by which Christ offered himself an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling savour. 5. That it was not the tree is evident, for that could not sanctify the gift, to wit, his body; but Christ afiirmeth “that the altar sanctifieth the gift;” and by so saying he af- firmeth that the altar on which he ottered his offering was greater than the offering itself. Matt, xxiii. 19. Now the body of Christ was the gift; for so he saith, “ I give my flesh for the life of the world.” But now what thing is that which is greater than his body save the altar, his divinity, on which it Wits ottered? The tree, then, was not the altar which sanctifieth this gift to make it of virtue enough to make reconciliation for in- iquity. John vi. 15. Now, since this altar of burnt-offering was thus placed in the inner court, it teaches us several things: First. That those that come only into the outward court, or rest in a bare appearance of Christianity, do not, by so doing, come to Jesus Christ; for this altar stands not there. Hence John takes notice only of the temple and this altar, and them that worship therein, and leaves out the outward court, and so them that come no farther. Rev. xi. 1, 2. Secondly. This teaches us also that we are to enter into that temple of God by blood. The altar, this altar of burnt-offering, stood as men went into the temple; they must go by it; yea, there they must leave their ottering, and so go in and worship, even as a token that they came thither by sacrifice and by blood. Thirdly. Upon this altar Solomon at the dedication of the temple offered thousands both of oxen and of sheep, to signify surely the abundant worth and richness that would be in the blood of Christ to save when it should be shed for us. “ For” his blood is spoken of with an “ how much more.” “ For if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the puri- fying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works, to serve the living God ! ” Let them not dare to stop or stay in the out- ward court, for there is not this altar. Nor let us dare, when we come into this court, to be careless whether we look to this altar or no. For it is by blood we must enter; for without shedding of blood is no remission. Let us always then, when we come hither, wash our hands in innocencv, and so compass this holy altar, for that by Christ, who is the altar in- deed, we are reconciled to God. This is look- ing unto Jesus ; this is coming to God by him, of whom this altar and the sacrifice thereon was a type. XII. Of the Pillars that were before the Porch of the Temple. There were divers pillars belonging to the temple, but in this place we are confined to speak of only two — namely, those which stood before the temple. These pillars stood before the porch or en- 280 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. trance into the temple, looking towards the altar, the court, and them that were the wor- shippers there : also they were a grace and a beauty to the front of the house. 1. These pillars stood, one on the right hand and the other on the left, at the door of the porch of the temple, and they had names given them (you may be sure) to signify something. The name of that on the right hand was called “ Jachin,” (God shall establish ;) and the name of that on the left hand was “Boaz,” (in it is strength.) 1 Kings vii. 21 ; 2 Chron. iii. 17. 2. These two jaillars were types of Christ’s apostles — of the apostles of circumcision, and of the uncircumcision. Therefore the apostle Paul also calleth them pillars, (Gal. ii.,) and saith that the pillar on the right hand was a type of himself and his companions, who were to go to the uncircumcised and teach the Gen- tiles the way of life. When James, Cephas, and John saith, “Ye who seemed to be pillars perceived the grace that was given unto me ; they gave unto me and Barnabas the right hand of fellowship, that we should go unto the heathen, and they unto the circumcision.” So, then, these two pillars were types of these two orders of the apostles in this their divers service for God. 3. And that Paul and Barnabas were signi- fied by those on the right hand — to wit, to be the apostles of the Gentiles — he showetli again where he saith, “ I am the minister of Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the grace of God, that the offering up of the Gentiles might be acceptable, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost.” 4. And since the name of this pillar was “Jachin,” (God shall establish,) as it showetli that opposition shall attend it, so also that God would bless his word preached by them to the Gentiles, to the conversion of numbers of them, maugre all the opposition of the enemy. 5. This is further implied for that they were made of brass ; as he saith of the prophet, “ I have made thee a fenced brazen wall, an iron pillar; and their fighting against thee shall nothing at all prevail.” Wherefore Paul says of himself, “ I am set for the defence of the Gospel, that the truth thereof might continue with you.” Phil. i. 17 ; Gal. ii. 5. XIII. Of the Height of these Pillars that thus stood before the Porch of the Door of the Tem- ple. The pillars were eignteen cubits high ajnece, and that is as high, yea, as high again, as the highest giant that ever we read of in the world ; for the highest of which we read was but six cubits and a span. True, the bedstead of Og was nine cubits long, but I trow the giant himself was shorter. Deut. iii. 11 ; 2 Chron. iii. 15. But put the longest to the longest, and set the one upon the shoulders of the other, and yet each pillar was higher than they. We have now, as I know of, but few that re- main of the remnant of -the giants ; and though they boast as if they were higher than Anak, yet these pillars are higher than they. These pillars are the highest; you may equal them, and an inch above is worth an ell below. The height, therefore, of these pillars is to show us what high dignity God did put upon those of his saints whom he did call to be apostles of the Lamb ; for their office and call thereto is the highest in the Church of God. These men, I say, were made thus high by their being cast in such a mould. Of that which added yet further to their height we will speak anon : we only speak now of the high call by which they, and only they, were made capa- ble of apostolical authority. The apostles were sent immediately, their call was extraordinary, their office was universal, they had alike p>ower in all churches, and their doctrine was infal- lible. And what can our pretended giants do or say in comparison of these ? The truth is, all other men to these are drawfs, are low, dark, weak, and beneath them, not only as to call and office, but also as to gifts and grace. This sentence, “ Paul, an apostle of Jesus Christ,” drowneth all. What now are all other titles of grandeur and greatness when compared with this one sentence ? True, the men were but mean in themselves ; for what is Paul or Apollos, or what was James or John ? Yet by their call to that office they were made highest of all in the Church. Christ did raise them eighteen cubits high, not in con- ceit — for so there are many higher than they — but in office, and calling, and divine authority. And observe it, these stand at the door, at the entering into the temple of God, at which they enter that go in thither to worship God, to show that all right worship, and that which will be acceptable to God, is by, or according to, their doctrine. XIY. Of the Chapiters of the Pillars of the Temple. There were also two chapiters made for the SOLOMON'S TKMl'LE SPIRITUALIZED. 281 pillars of the temple — for each one; and they were five cubits high apiece. These were for the adorning of the pillars, and therefore were types and shadows of that abundance of grace which God did put upon the apostles after the resurrection of our Lord. Wherefore, as he saith here the chapiters were upon the pillars, so it saith that great grace was upon all the apostles. Acts iv. 33. These chapiters had belonging to them a bowl, made pumil-fashion, and it was placed upon the head of them, perhaps to signify their aptness to receive and largeness to con- tain of the dew of heaven, that shadow of the doctrine of the Gospel, which doctrine the apostles, as the chief, were to receive and hold forth to the world for their conversion. Hence, as the bowls were capable to receive the dew of heaven, these are said to receive grace, an apostleship for obedience to the faith among all nations for his name. There was also upon these chapiters a net- work, or nets like unto chequer-work, which still added to their lustre. These nets were they which showed for what intent the apos- tolical office was ordained; namely, that by their preaching they might bring many souls to God. And hence Christ calls them fisher- men, saying, “ Ye shall catch men.” The world is compared to a sea, men to fishes, and the Gospel to a net. As therefore men catch fish with a net, so the apostles caught men by their word ; which word, as I told you, to me is signified by this net-work upon the top of these pillars. See therefore the mystery of God in these things. XV. Of the Pomegranates adjoined to these Nets on the Chapiters. There were also joined to these nets upon the top of the pillars pomegranates in abun- dance, four hundred for the net-work. Pome- granates, you know, are beautiful to look on, pleasant to the palate, comfortable to the stomach, and cheering by their juice. There were to be two rows of these pomegranates for one net-work, and so two rows of them for the other. And this was to show that the net of the Gospel is not an empty thing, but is suffi- ciently baited with such varieties as are apt to allure the. world to be catched by them. The law is but a sound of words, but the Gospel is not so ; that is baited with pomegranates, with variety of excellent things. Hence it is called “ the Gospel of the kingdom, and the Gospel of the grace of God,” because it is, as it were ' baited with grace and glory, that sinners may be allured and may be taken with it, to their eternal salvation. Matt. xxiv. 14; Acts xx. 24. Grace and glory, grace and glory ! these are the pomegranates with which the word of the Gospel is baited, that sinners may be taken and saved thereby. The argument of old was milk and honey; that was, I say, the alluring bait with which Moses drew six hundred thousand out of Egypt into the wilderness of old. Ex. iii. 8. But behold, we have pome- granates, two rows of pomegranates, grace and a kingdom, as the bait of the holy Gospel ; no wonder then if, when men of skill did cast this net into the sea, such numbers of fish have been catched even by one sermon. Acts ii. They baited their nets with taking things — things taking to the eye and taste. Nets are truly instruments of death, but the net of the Gospel doth catch to draw from death ; wherefore this net is contrary ; life and immortality is brought to light through this. No marvel then if men are so glad, and that for gladness they leap like fishes in a net, when they see themselves catched in this drag of the holy Gospel of the Son of God. They are catched from death and hell, catched to live with God in glory. XVI. Of the Chains that were upon these Pillars that stood before the Temple. As there were nets to catch, and pome- granates to bait, so there were chains belong- ing to these chapiters on these pillars. And he made chains, as in the oracle, and put them upon the head of the chapiters. 2 Chron. iii. 16. But what were these chains a type of? I answer, They were perhaps a type of those bonds which attend the Gospel, by which souls are taken and tied fast to the horns of the altar. Gospel grace and Gospel obliga- tions are ties and binding things : they can hold those that are entangled by the word. Love is strong as death— bands of love and the cords of a man, and chains take hold on them that are taken by the Gospel. Hos. xi. ; Song viii. 6. But this strength to bind lieth not in out- ward force, but in a sweet constraint by virtue of the displays of undeserved love. “ The love of Christ constraineth us.” Wherefore as you find the nets, so the chains had pomegranates on them. “And he made an hundred pome- granates, and put them upon the chains.” 282 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. The chains, then, had baits, as well as the nets, to show that the bands of the Gospel are unresistible goodnesses, such with which men love to be bound, and such as they pray they may hold fast by. He binds his foal to the vine, his saint unto this Saviour. Gen. xlix. 11. By these chains there is therefore showed what strength there, is in Gospel charms, if once the adder doth but hear them ; never man j et was able to resist them that well did know the meaning of them ; they are mighty to make poor men obedient, and that in word and deed. These chains were such as were in the oracle, to show that Gospel bonds are strong as the joys of heaven, and as the glories there can make them chains as in the oracle, as in the most holy place. It is heaven that binds sinners on earth to the faith and hope of the Gospel of Christ. XVII. Of the Lily-worJc which teas upon the Chapiters that were upon these Pillars of the Temple. These pillars were also adorned with lily- work, as well as with pomegranates and chains. “ Chapiters also which were upon the top of the pillars were of lily-work : so was the w r ork of the pillars finished.” This lily-work is here put in on purpose, even to show us how far off those that were to be the true apostles of the Lamb should be from seeking carnal things, or of making their preaching a stalking-horse to worldly greatness, and that preferment. There was lily-work upon them ; that is, they lived upon the bounty and care of God, and were content with that glory which he had put upon them. “The lilies,” saith Christ, “ they toil not, neither do they spin, and yet Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” Thus, therefore, these pillars show that as the apostles should be fitted and qualified for their work, they should be also free from cares and worldly cumber; they should be content with God’s providing for them, even as the goodly lilies are. And as thus prepared they were set in the front of the house for all min- isters to see and learn, and take examples of them how to behave themselves as to this world in the performing of their office. And that which gives us further light in this is, that this lily-work is said, by divine insti- tution, to be placed “ over against the belly,” the belly of the pillars, a type of ours. 1 Kings vii. 20. The belly is a craving thing ; and these things, saith the text, were placed over against the belly, to teach that they should not hu- mour, but put check unto the desires and crav- ings of the belly, or to show that they need not do it, for that he that calls to his work will himself provide for the belly. It is said of the Church that “ her belly is as a heap of wheal set about with lilies,” to show that she should, without covetousness, have sufficient, if she would cast all her care upon God, her great provider. This the apostles did, and this is their glory to this day. “So was the work of the pillars finished.” To live lily-lives, it seems, is the glory of an apostle, and the completing of his office and service for God. But this is directly opposite to the belly, over against the belly, and this makes it the harder work. But yet so living' is the way to make ail that is done sweet- scented to those that be under this care. Cov- etousness makes a minister smell frowisli, and look more like a greedy dog than an apostle of Jesus Christ. Judas had none of this lily- work ; so his name stinks to this day. “ He that grows like the lily shall cast forth his scent like Lebanon, his branches shall spread, and his beauty shall be as the olive tree, and his smell as Lebanon.” Thus lived Christ first ; and thus the apostles next ; nor can any other, as to this, live like or be compared to them. They coveted no man’s silver or gold or apparel. They lived like lilies in the world, and did send forth their scent as Lebanon. Thus you see of whom these pillars were a shadow, and what their height, their chapiters, their bowls, their nets, their chains, their pomegranates, and their lily-work did signify, and how all was most sweetly answered in the antitype. These were men of the first rate; the apostles, I mean, were such. XVIII. Of the Fashion of the Temple. Of the length and breadth of the temple I shall say nothing, but as to the height thereof there, methinks, I see something. The temple was higher than the pillars, and so is the Church than her officers ; I say, consider them singly as officers, though inferior as to gifts and office ; for as I said before of ministers in general, so now I say the same of the apostles, though as to office they were the highest, yet the temple is above them. Gifts and office make no men sons of God, as so they are but servants of the highest form. It is the Church, SOLOMON’S TKMl’LK SPIRITUALIZED. 283 as such, that is the lady, a queen, the bride, the Lamb’s wife; and prophets, apostles, and ministers, &c., are but servants, stewards, la- bourers for her good. As, therefore, the lady is above the servant, the queen above the steward, or the wife above all her husband’s officers, so is the Church, as such, above these officers. The temple was higher than the pillars. 2. Again, as the temple was highest, so it enlarged itself still upward; for as it ascended in height, so it still was wider and wider, even from the lowest chambers to the top. The first chambers were but five cubits broad, the middle ones were six, but the highest were seven cubits. 1 Kings vi. 5, 6. The temple therefore was round about some cubits wider than it was below ; for there was an enlarging and an ascending about still upward to the side chambers, for the winding about was still upward round about the house ; therefore the breadth of the house was still upward, and so increased from the lowest chamber to the high- est, by the midst. And this was to show us that God’s true Gospel temple, which is hi's Church, should have its enlargedness of heart still upwards, or most for spiritual and eternal things ; where- fore he saith, “ Thy heart shall fear and be en- larged that is, be most affected with things above, ‘‘where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God.” Indeed, it is the nature of grace to enlarge itself still upward, and to make the heart widest for the things that are above. The temple, therefore, was narrowest down- wards, to show that a little of earth, or this world, should serve the Church of God. And having food and raiment, let us be therewith content. But now, upwards and as to heavenly things, we are commanded to be covetous as to them, and after them to enlarge ourselves, both by the fashion of the temple as well as by express words. Since then the temple was widest upward, let us imitate it and have our conversation in heaven. Let our eyes, our ears, our hands, and hearts, our prayers, and groans, be most for things above. Let us open our mouths as the ground that is cliapt doth for the latter rain, for the things that are eternal. Job xxix. 23 ; Ps. Ixxxi. 10. Observe again that the lowest parts of the temple were the narrowest parts of the temple ; so those in the Church who are nearest or most concerned with earth are the most narrow- spirited as to the things of God. But now let even such a one be taken up higher, to above, to the uppermost parts of the temple, and there he will be enlarged and have his heart stretched out. For the temple you sec was widest up- wards; the higher the more it is enlarged. Paul being once caught up into paradise, could not but be there enlarged. 2 Cor. xii. One may say of the fashion of the temple, as some say of a lively picture, It speaks. I say, its form and fashion speaks; it says to all saints, to all the churches of Christ, Open your hearts for heaven, be ye enlarged upwards. I read not in Scripture of any house but this that was thus enlarged upwards; nor is there anywhere, save only in the Church of God, that which doth answer this similitude. All other are widest downward, and have the largest heart for earthly things: the Church only is widest upwards, and has its greatest enlargements towards heaven. XIX. Of the Outward Glory of the Temple. I do also think that as to this there was a great expression in it: I mean, a voice of God, a voice that teaclieth the New Testament Church to carry even conviction in her out- ward usages, that, I say, might give conviction to the world. And besides this of its enlarging upwards, there was such an outward beauty and glory put upon it as was alluring to be- holders. The stones were curiously carved and excellently joined together; its outward show was white and glittering, to the dazzling of the eyes of the beholders ; yea, the disciples themselves were taken with it, it was so ad- mirable to behold. Hence it is said they came to Christ to show him the building of the temple : “ Master,” said they, “ see what man- ner of stones and what buildings are here.” And hence it is said that kings and the mighty of the earth were taken with the glory of it : “ Because of thy temple at Jerusalem shall kings bring presents unto thee as it is, Ps. lxviii. 29, 31. Kings, Gentile kings, they shall be so taken with the sight of the outward glory of it, for they were not suffered to go into it ; no uncir- cumcised were admitted in thither. It was, therefore, with the outward glory of it with which the beholders were thus taken. Her enlarging upward, as that was to show us what the inward affections of Christians should be, (Col. iii.'l, 2, 3,) so her curious out- ward adorning and beauty was a figure of the beauteous and holy conversation of the godly. 284 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. And it is brave when the world are made to say of the lives and conversation of the saints, as they were made to say of the stones and outward building of the temple, Behold what Christians and what goodly conversations are here ! I say it is brave when our light so shines before men that they, seeing our good works, shall be forced to glorify our Father which is in heaven. Matt. v. 16. Hence this is called our adorning wherewith we adorn the Gospel, and that by which we beautify it. Tit. ii. 10. This, I say, is taking to beholders, as was this goodly outside of the temple. And with- out this, what is to be seen in the Church of God? Her inside cannot be seen by the world, but her outside may. Now, her out- side is very homely and without all beauty save that of the holy life ; this only is her vis- ible goodliness. This puts to silence the ignor- ance of foolish men. This allures others to fall in love with their own salvation, and makes them fall in with Christ against the devil and his kingdom. XX. Of the Porch of the Temple. We come next to the porch of the temple that is commonly called Solomon’s. 1. This porch was in the front of the house, and so became the common way into the tem- ple. 1 Kings vi. 3; 2 Chron. iii. 4. 2. This porch, therefore, was the place of reception in common for all, whether Jews or religious proselytes, who came to Jerusalem to worship. 3. This porch had a door or gate belonging to it, but such as was seldom shut, except in declining times, or when men put themselves into a rage against those better than them- selves. 4. This gate cf this porch was called “ Beau- tiful,” even the beautiful gate of the temple, and was that at which the lame man lay to beg for an alms of them that went in thither to worship. Acts iii. 1, 2, 10. Now, then, since this porch was the common place of reception for all worshipers, and the place also where they laid the beggars, it looks as if it were to be a type of the Church’s bosom for charity. Here the proselytes were entertained, here the beggars were relieved and received alms. These gates were seldom shut; and the houses of Christian comjjassion should be always open. This, therefore, beau- tified this gate, as charity beautifies any of the churches. Largeness of heart and tender com- passion at the church door is excellent ; it is the bond of jDerfectness. 1 Cor. xii. and xiii. The church porch to this day is a place for beggars, and perhaps this practice at first was borrowed from the beggars lying at the temple gate. This porch was large, and so should the charity of the churches be. It was for length the breadth of the temple, and of the same size with the holiest of all. The first might be to teach us in charity we should not be niggardly; according to the breadth of our ability we should extend it to all the house; and that in our so doing the very emblem of heaveii is upon us, of which the holiest was a figure ; as therefore we have opportunity, let us do good to all, &c. It is a fine ornament to a true church to have a large church porch, or a wide bosom, for reception of all that come thither to wor- ship. This was commanded to the Jews, and their glory shone when they did accordingly: “And it shall come to pass, in what place the stranger sojourneth, there shall ye give him his inheritance, saitli the Lord God.” This porch was, as I said, not only for length the breadth of the temple, and so the length and breadth of the holiest, but it was, if I mistake not, for height far higher than them both ; for the holy place was but thirty cubits high, and the most holy but twenty, but the porch was in height an hundred and twenty cubits. This beautiful porch, therefore, was four times as high as the temple itself. One excellent ornament, therefore, of this temple was for that it had a porch so high — that is, so famous for height — so high as to be seen afar off. Charity, if it be rich, runs up from the church like a steeple, and will be seen afar off, I say, if it be rich, large, and abounds. Christ’s charity was blazed abroad ; it was so high no man could hide it: and the charity of the churches will be seen from church to church, yea, and will be spoken of to their commendation in every place, if it be warm, fervent, and high. Mark vii. 36. XXI. Of the Ornaments of the Porch of the Temple. There were three things belonging to the porch, besides its height, that was an orna- ment unto it : . 1. It was overlaid within with gold. 2. It had the pillars adjoined unto it. 3. It was the inlet into the temple. First, it was overlaid with gold. Gold oft- times was a type of grace, and particularly of SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 285 the grace of love. That in Solomon’s chariot called “gold” is yet again mentioned by the name “love.” Song iii. 9, 10. As it is in the Church, the grace of love is as gold. It is the greatest, the richest of graces, and that which abides for ever. Hence they that show much love to saints are said to be rich. 1 Tim. vi. 17, 18, 19. And hence charity is called a treas- ure, a treasure in the heavens. Luke xii. 33, 34. Love is a golden grace; lot then the churches, as the porch of the temple was, be inlain with love as gold. Secondly, it had the pillars adjoined to it, the which, besides their stateliness, seem to be there typically to teach example. For there was seen, by the space of four cubits, their lily-work in the porch. 1 Kings vii. 19. Of their lily-work I spake before. Now that they were so placed that they might be seen in the porch of the house, it seems to be for example to teach the Church that she should live without worldly care, as did the apostles, the first planters of the Church. And let ministers do this : they are now the pillars of the churches, and they stand before the porch of the house ; let them also show their lily- work to the house, that the Church may learn of them to be without carefulness as to worldly things, and also to be rich in love and charity towards the brethren. A covetous minister is a base thing, a pillar more symbolizing Lot’s wife than an holy apostle of Jesus Christ; let them, since they stand at the door, and since the eyes of all in the porch are upon them, be patterns and ex- amples of good works. 1 Tim. vi. 10, 11, 12; Tit. ii. 7. Thirdly, another ornament unto this porch was, that it was an inlet into the temple. Charity is it which receiveth orphans, that receivetli the poor and afflicted into the Church. Worldly love, or that which is carnal, shuts up bowels, yea, and the church doors too, against the poor of the flock ; wherefore look that this kind of love be never countenanced by you. Crave that rather which is a fruit of the Spirit. 0 churches, let your ministers be beautified with your love, that they may beautify you with their love, and also be an ornament unto you and to that Gospel they minister to you, for Jesus Christ’s sake. XXII. Of the Ascent by which they went up into the Porch of the Temple. 1. This porch also had certain steps, by which they went up into the house of the Lord. I know not directly the number of them, though Ezekiel speaks something about it. Ezek. xl. 38, 39. Hence, when men went to worship into the temple they were said to go up in the house of the Lord. Isa. xxxviii. 22. These steps, which were the asepnt to the temple, were so curiously set and also finely wrought that they were amazing to behold. Wherefore, when the queen of Sheba, who came to prove Solomon’s wisdom, saw the house.which he had built, and his ascent by which he went up into the house of the Lord, she had no more spirit in her. She was by that sight quite drowned and overcome. 1 Kings x. 4, 5. 2. These steps, whether cedar, gold, or stone, yet that which added to their adorn ment was the wonderment of a queen. And whatever they were made of, to be sure they were a shadow of those steps which we should take to and in the house of God. Steps of God. Ps. lxxxv. 13. Steps ordered by him. Ps. xxxvii. 22. Steps ordered in his word. Ps. cxix. 133. Steps of faith. Rom iv. 12. Steps of the Spirit. 1 Cor. xii. 18. Steps of truth. 3 John 4. Steps washed with butter. Job xxix. 6. Steps taken before or in the presence of God. Steps butted and bounded by a divine rule. These are steps indeed. 3. There are, therefore, no such steps as these to be found anywhere in the world. A step to honour, a step to riches, a step to worldly glory, these are everywhere ; but what are these to the steps by which men do ascend or go up to the house of the Lord ! He, then, that entereth into the house of the Lord is an ascending man; as it is said of Moses, he went up into the mount of God. It is ascending to go into the house of God. The world believe not this ; they think it is going downward to go up to the house of God, but they are in a horrible mistake. The steps, then, by which men went up into the temple are, and ought to be, opposed to those which men take to their lusts and emptv glories. Hence, such steps are said not only to decline from God, but to take hold of the path to death and hell. The steps, then, by which men went up to the house of the Lord were significative of those steps which men take when they go to God, to heaven, and glory; for these steps were the way to God. to God in his holy temple. But how few are there that, as the queen of 286 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the South, are taken with these goodly steps ! Do not most rather seek to push away our feet from taking hold of the path of life, or else lay snares for us in the way? But, all these notwithstanding, the Lord guide us in the way of his steps : they are goodly steps, they are the best. XXIII. Of the Gates of the Porch of the Temple. L The porch, at which was an ascent to the temple, had a gate belonging to it. This gate, according to the prophet Ezekiel, was six cubits wide. The leaves of this gate were double, one folding this way, the other folding that. Ezek. xl. 48. Now here some may object and say, Since the way to God by these doors was so wide, why doth Christ say the way and gate is narrow ? Answer. The straitness, the narrowness must not be understood of the gate simply, but be- cause of that cumber that some men carry with them that pretend to be going to heaven. Six cubits ! What is sixteen cubits to him who would enter in here with all the world on his back? The young man in the Gospel, who made such a noise for heaven, might have gone in easy enough, for in six cubits’ breadth there is room; but, poor man, he was not for going in thither, unless he might carry in his houses upon his shoulder too, and so the gate was strait. Mark x. 17-23. Wherefore he that will enter in at the gate of heaven, of which this gate into the temple was a type, must go in by himself, and not with his bundles of trash on his back ; and if he will / go in thus, he need not fear there is room. “The righteous nation that keep the truth, they shall enter in.” 2. They that enter at the gate of the inner court must be clothed in fine linen ; how, then, shall they go into the temple that carry the clogs of the dirt of this w'orld at their heels? Thus saith the Lord, “No stranger uncircum- cised in heart or uncircumcised in flesh shall enter into my sanctuary.” 3. The wideness therefore of this gate is for this cause here made mention of — to wit, to encourage them that would gladly enter there- at according to the mind of God, and not to flatter them that are not for leaving of all for God. 4. Wherefore let such as would go in re- member that here is room, even a gate to enter in at, six cubits wide. We have been all this while but on the outside of the temple, even in the courts of the house Of the Lord, to see the beauty and glory that is there. The beauty hereof made men cry out, and say, “ How amiable are thy tabernacles, 0 Lord of hosts! my soul longeth, yea fainteth, for the courts of the Lord ;” and to say, “ A day in thy courts is better than a thousand.” XXIV. Of the Pinnacles of the Temple. 1. There were also several pinnacles belong- ing to the temple. These pinnacles stood ou the top aloft in the air, and were sharp, and so difficult to stand upon : what men say of their number and length I waive, and come directly to their signification. 2. I therefore take these pinnacles to be types of those lofty, airy notions with which some men delight themselves while they hover like birds above the solid and godly truths of Christ. Satan attempted to entertain Christ Jesus with this type and antitype at once when he set him on one of the pinnacles of the temple, and offered to thrust him upon a false confidence in God by a false and unsound in- terpretation of a text. Matt. iv. 5, 6 ; Luke iv. 9, 10, 11. 3. You have some men who cannot be con- tent to worship in the temple, but must be aloft ; no place will serve them but pinnacles, pinna- cles, that they may be speaking in and to the air, that they may be promoting their heady no- tions, instead of solid truth ; not considering that now they are where the devil would have them be, they strut upon their points, their pinnacles; but, let them look to it, there is difficult standing upon pinnacles; their neck, their soul, is in danger. We read, God is in his temple, not upon these pinnacles. Ps. xi. 4; Hab. ii. 20. 4. It is true. Christ was once upon one of these, but the devil set him there, with intent to dash him in pieces by a fall ; and yet even then told him if he would venture to tumble down he should be kept from dashing his foot against a stone. To be there, therefore, was one of Christ’s temptations, consequently one of Satan’s stratagems ; nor went he thither of his own accord, for he knew that there was danger; he loved not to clamber pin- nacles. 5. This should teach Christians to be low and little in their own eyes, and to forbear to intrude into airy and vain speculations, and to take heed of being puffed up with a foul and empty mind. SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 2S7 XXV. Of the Porters of the Temple. 1. There were porters belonging to the tem- ple. In David’s time their number was four thousand men. 1 Chron. xxiii. 5. 2. The porters were of the Lcvites, and their work was to watch at every gate of the house of the Lord — at the gate of the outer court, at the gates of the inner court, and at the door of the temple of the Lord. 3. The work of the porters, or rather the reason of their watching, was to look that none not duly qualified entered into the house of the Lord. “ He set,” saith the text, “ porters at the gates of the house of the Lord, that none which was unclean in any thing should enter in.” 4. The excellency of the porters lay in these three things: their watchfulness, diligence, and valour to make resistance, to those that as unfit would attempt to enter those courts and the house of God. 5. These porters were types of our Gospel ministers, as they are set to be watchmen in and over the Church and the holy things of God. Therefore, as Christ gives to every man in the Church his work, “so he commands the porter to watch.” Isa. xxi. 11. 6. Sometimes every awakened Christian is said to be a porter, and such at Christ’s first knock open unto him immediately. Luke xii. 30, 37, 38, 39. 7. The heart of a Christian is also sometimes called the porter, for that when the true Shep- herd comes to it, to him this porter openeth also. John x. 3. 8. This last has the body for his watch-house ; the eyes and ears for his portholes ; the tongue wherewith to cry, Who comes there? as also to call for aid when any thing unclean shall at- tempt with force and violence to enter in to de- file the house. XXVI. Of the Charge of the Porters of the Temple more particularly. 1. The charge of the porters was, to keep their watch in four square even round about the temple of God. Thus it was ordained by David, before him by Moses, and after him by Solomon his son. 2. The porters had, some of them, the charge of the treasure-chambers; some of them had the charge of the ministering vessels, even to bring them in and out by tale; also the open- ing and shutting of the gates of the house of the Lord was a part of their calling and office. 1. I told you the porters were types of our Gospel ministers, as they were watchmen in and over the house of God; and therefore in that they were thus to watch round about the temple, what is it but to show how diligent Satan is, to see if he may get in somewhere, by some means, to defile the Church of God. He goes round and round us, to see if he an find a hoghole for that purpose. 2. This also showeth that the Church itself, without its watchmen, is a weak, feeble, and very helpless thing. What can the lady or mistress do to defend herself against thieves and sturdy villains if there be none but she at home? It is said, When the Shepherd is smitten the sheep will be scattered. What could the temple do without the watchmen? 3. Again, in that the porters had charge of the treasure-chambers, (as it is 1 Chron. ix. 26,) it is to intimate that the treasures of the Gospel are with the ministers of our God, and that the Church, next to Christ, should seek them at the mouth. “We have this treasure in earthen vessels,” saith Paul, and they are stewards of the “manifold mysteries of God.” 4. These are God’s true scribes, and bring out of their treasury things new and old; or, as he saith in another place, “At our gates” — that is, where our porters watch — “are all manner of pleasant fruit, .which I have laid up for thee, 0 my beloved.” 5. Further, some of them had charge of the ministering vessels, and they were to bring them in and out by tale. 1 Chron. ix. 18. 1. If by ministering vessels you understand Gospel ordinances, then you see who has the charge of them — to wit, the watchmen and ministers of the word. 2. If by ministering vessels you mean the members of the Church, for they are also ministering vessels, then you see who has the care of them — to wit, the pastors, the Gospel ministers. Therefore “obey them that have the rule over you, for they watch for your souls as they that must give an account; that they may do it with joy, and not with grief, for that is unprofitable to you.” 3. The opening of the gates did also belong to the porter, to show that the power of the keys — to wit, of opening and shutting, of let- ting in and keeping out of the Church — doth ministerially belong to these watchmen. 4. The conclusion is, then, Let the churches love their pastors, hear their pastors, be ruled by their pastors, and suffer themselves to be watched over, and to be exhorted, counselled, and if need be reproved and rebuked, by their 288 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. pastors. And let the ministers not sleep, but be watchful, and look to the ordinances, to the souls of the saints, and the gates of the churches. Watchmen, watchmen, watch! XXVII. Of the Doors of the Temple. Now we come to the gate of the temple — namely, to that which led out of the porch into the holy place. 1. These doors or gates were folding, and they opened by degrees. First, a quarter, and then a half, after that three quarters, and last of all the whole. These doors also hanged upon hinges of gold, and upon posts made of the goodly olive tree. 1 Kings vi. 33, 34 ; Ezek. xli. 23, 24. 2. These doors did represent Christ, as he is the way to the Father, as also did the door of the tabernacle, at which the people were wont to stand when they went to inquire of God. Wherefore, Christ saith, “I am the door, (alluding to this:) by me, if any man enter, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out and find pasture.” 1. “I am the door.” The door into the court, the door into the porch, the door into the temple, the door into the holiest, the door to the Father. But now we are at the door of the temple. 2. And observe it, this door hy Solomon was not measured, as the door of the porch was; for though the door into the court and the door into the porch were measured, to show that the right to ordinances and the inlet into the Church are to be according to a prescript rule, yet this door was not measured, to show that Christ, as he is the inlet to saving- grace, is beyond all measure and unsearchable. Hence- his grace is called unsearchable riches, and that above all we can ask or think, for that it passeth knowledge. Eph. iii. 8, 19, 20. 3. It is therefore convenient that we put a note upon this, that we may distinguish rule and duty from grace and pardoning mercy; for, as I said, though Christ, as the door to out- ward privileges, is set forth by rule and meas- ure, yet, as he is the door to grace and favour, never a creature, as yet, did see the length and breadth of him. Eph. iii. 17, 18, 19. 4. Therefore, I say, this gate was not meas- ured, for what should a rule do here where things are beyond all measure ? 5. This gate being also to open hy degrees is of signification to us ; for it will be opening first by one fold, then by another, and yet will never be set wide open until the day of judg- ment. For then, and not till then, will the whole of the matter be open. “ For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face ; now we know but in part, but then shall we know even as we are known.” XXVIII. Of the Leaves of this Gate of the Temple. The leaves of this gate or door, as I told you before, were folding, and so, as was hinted, have something of signification in them. For by this means a man, especially a young disci- ple, may easily be mistaken, thinking that the whole passage, when yet but a part, was open, whereas three parts might yet be kept undis- covered to him. For these doors, as I said be- fore, were never yet so wide open, I mean in the antitype ; never man yet saw all the riches and fulness which is in Christ. So that, I say, a newcomer, if he judged by present sight, es- pecially if he- saw but little, might easily be mis- taken ; wherefore such, for the most part, are most horribly afraid that they shall never get in thereat. How sayest thou, young comer? — -is not this the case with thy soul? So it seems to thee that thou art too big, being so great, so tun- bellied a sinner. But, 0 thou sinner, fear not: the doors afe folding doors, and may be opened wider and wider again after that; wherefore when thou comest to this gate, and imaginest there is not space enough for thee to enter, knock, and it shall be wider opened unto thee, and thou slialt be received. Luke xi. 9 ; John ix. 37. So, then, whoever thou art that art come to the door of which the temple door was a type, trust not to thy first conceptions of things, but believe there is grace abundant: thou knowest not yet what Christ can do. The doors are folding doors : he can do exceeding abundantly above all that we can ask or think. Eph. iii. 20. The hinges on which these doors do hang were, as I told you, gold, to signify that they both turned upon motives and motions of love, and also that the openings thereof were rich. Golden hinges the gate to God doth turn upon. The posts upon which these doors did hang were of the olive tree, that fat and oily tree, to show that they do never open with lothness or sluggishness, as doors do whose hinges wanteth oil. They are always oily, and so open easily and quickly to those who knock at them. Hence you read that he that dwells in this house gives freely, loves freely, and doeth us good with all his heart. Yea, saith he, SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 280 “I will rejoice over them to do them good, and I will plant them in this land assuredly with my whole heart and with my whole soul.” Wherefore the oil of grace, signified by this oily tree or these olive posts on which these doors do hang, causes that they open glibly or frankly to the soul. XXIX. What the Doors of the Temple were made of. 1. The doors of the temple were made of fir, that is so sweet-scented and pleasant to the smell. 2. Mankind is also often compared to the fir tree, as Isa. xli. 19. 3. Now, since the doors of the temple were made of the same, doth it not show that the way into God’s house and into his favour is by the same nature which they are of that thither enter, even through the veil “his flesh?” Heb. x. For this door, I mean the antitype, doth even say of himself, “ I am as a green fir tree, from me is thy fruit found.” 4. This fir tree is Christ — Christ as man, and so as the way to the Father. The doors of the temple arc also, as you see here, made of the fir tree, even of that tree which was a type of the humanity of Jesus Christ. 5. The fir tree is also the house of the stork, that unclean bird, even as Christ is the harbour and shelter for sinners. As for the stork, saith the text, the fir tree is her house: and Christ saith to the sinners that see their want of shel- ter, Come unto me and I will give you rest. He is a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in time of trouble. He is, as the doors of fir of the temple, the inlet to God’s house, to God’s presence, and to a partaking of his glory. Thus God did of old by similitudes teach his people his way. XXX. I To w the Doors of the Temple were Adorned. And Solomon carved upon the doors cheru- bims, palm trees, and open flowers, and over- laid them all with gold. 1 Kings vi. 35; Ezek. xli. 15. He carved cherubims thereon. These clieru- bims were figures or types of angels ; and for- asmuch as they were carved here upon the door, it was to show — First, What delight the angels take in wait- ing upon the Lord, and in going at his bidding, at his beck. They are always waiting servants at the door of their Lord’s house. Secondly, It may be also to show how much 19 pleased they are to he where they may see sin- ners come to God. For there is joy in the pres- ence of the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth and comes to God by Christ for mer- cy. Luke xv. 10. Thirdly. They may be also placed here to be- hold with what reverence, or irreverence, those that come hither to worship do behave them- selves. Hence Solomon cautions those that come to God’s house to worship that they take heed to their feet, because of the angels. Paul also says women must take heed that they be- have themselves in the church as they should, and that because of the angels. Fourthly. They may also be carved upon the temple door, to show us how ready they are, so soon as any poor creature comes to Christ for life, to take the care and charge of its con- duct through this miserable world. “ Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minis- ter for them who shall be heirs of salvation?” Fifthly. They may also be carved here to show that they are ready, at Christ’s command, to take vengeance for him upon those that de- spise his people and hate his person. Hence he bids the world take heed what they do to his little ones, for their angels behold the face of their Father which is in heaven, and are ready at the door to run at his bidding. Matt, xviii. 10. Sixthly, or lastly. They may be carved upon these doors to show that Christ Jesus is the very supporter and upholder of angels, as well as the Saviour of sinful man ; for as he is be- fore all things, so by him all things consist : angels stand by Christ, men are saved by Christ, and therefore the very cherubims themselves were carved upon these doors, to show they are upheld and subsist by him. Secondly. Again, as the cherubims are carved here, so there were palm trees carved here also. The palm tree is upright, it twist- eth not itself awry. Jer. x. 5. 1. Apply this to Christ, and then it shows us the uprightness' of his heart, word, and ways with sinners. “ Good and upright is the Lord, therefore will he teach sinners in the way” — in at the door to life. 2. The palm or palm tree is also a token of victory, and as placed here it betokeneth the conquest that Christ, the door, should get over sin, death, the devil, and hell for us. Rom. vii. 24. 3. If we apply the palm tree to the Church — as we may, for she is also compared thereto, (Song vii. S, 9, 10,) — then the palm tree may 290 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. be carved here to show that none but such as are upright of heart and life shall dwell in the presence of God. “The hypocrite,” says Job, shall not come before him.” “ The upright,” says David, “ shall dwell in thy presence.” They are they that are clothed in Avhite robes, which signifies uprightness of life, that stand before the Lamb with palms in their hands. Rev. vii. 9. Thirdly. There were also carved upon these doors open flowers; and that to teach us that here is the sweet scent and fragrant smell, and that the coming soul will find it so in Christ this door. “I am,” saith he, “ the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.” And again, “ His cheeks are as beds of spices, as sweet flowers, his lips like lilies drop sweet- smelling myrrh.” Open flowers. Open flowers are the sweetest, because full grown, and because, as such, they yield their fragrancy most freely. Wherefore, when he saith, “ upon the doors are open flowers,” he setteth Christ Jesus forth in his good savours as high as by such similitudes he could, and that both in name and office, for open flowers lay, by their thus opening them- selves before us, all their beauty also most plainly before our faces. There are varieties of beauty in open flowers, the which they also commend to all observers. Now upon these doors, you see, are open flowers, flowers ripe, and spread before us to show that his name and offices are savoury to them that by him do enter his house to God his Father. Song i. 1, 2 3 4 “ All these were overlaid with fine gold.” Gold is the most rich of all metals ; and here it is said the doors, the cherubims, the palm trees, and open flowers were overlaid there- with. And this shows that as these things are rich in themselves, even so they should be to us. We have a golden door to go to God by, and golden angels to conduct us through the world : we have golden palm trees as tokens of our victory, and golden flowers to smell on all the way to heaven. XXXI. Of the Wall of the Temple. The wall of the temple was “ ceiled with fir, which he overlaid with fine gold; and set thereon palm trees and chains.” The Avails Avcre as the body of the house, unto Avhich Christ alluded when he said, “De- stroy this temple, and in three days I Avill raise it up.” Hence to be and worship in the temple was a type of being in Christ and worshipping God by him. For Christ, as Avas said, is the great temple of God, in the Avhich all the elect meet, and in Avhorn they do service to and for his Father. Hence again, the true worshippers are said to be in him, to speak in him, to Avalk in him, to obey him. 2 Cor. ii. 14; chap. xii. 19; Col. ii. 6. For as of old all true Avorship Avas to be found at the temple, so noAV it is only found Avith Christ and Avith them that are in him. The promise of old Avas made to them that Avorshipped Avithin these Avails. “ I Avill give,” saith he, “to them in my house and Avithin my Avails (to them that worship there in truth) a place and a name better than that of sons and daughters.” But iioav, in New Testament times, “ all the promises in him are yea, and in him amen,” to the glory of God by us. This is yet further hinted to us in that it is said these Avails are ceiled with fir ; which, as Avas shoAved before, Avas a figure of the hu- manity of Jesus Christ. A Avail is for defence, and so is the humanity of Jesus Christ. It is, Avas, and Avill be our defence for ever. For it Avas that Avhich un- derwent and overcame the curse of the law, and that in Avhich our everlasting righteous- ness is found. Had he not in that interposed Ave had perished for ever. Hence Ave are said to be reconciled to God in the body of his flesh through death. Now, this Avail was overlaid with fine gold. Gold here is a figure of the righteousness of Christ, by Avhich Ave are justified in the sight of God. Therefore, you read that his Church, as justified, is said to stand at his right hand in cloth of gold. “ Upon the right hand did stand the queen in gold of Ophir.” And again, “ Her clothing is of Avrought gold.” This the Avail Avas overlaid Avith, this the body of Christ Avas filled with. Men, Avhile in the temple, were clothed Avith gold, even AA'ith the gold of the temple ; and men in Christ are clothed Avith righteousness, the righteousness of Christ. Wherefore this consideration doth yet more illustrate the matter. In that the palm trees Avere set on this wall, it may be to sIaoav that the elect are fixed in Jesus, and so shall abide for ever. Chains were also carved oir these Avails, yea, and they Avere golden chains : there Avere chains on the pillars, and noAV also Ave find chains upon the Avails. Phil. i. 12, 13. SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 201 1. Chains were used to hold captives, and such Paul did wear at Rome, but lie called them “ his bonds in Christ.” 2. Chains sometimes signify great afflictions, which God lays on us for our sins. Ps. evii. 9. 10 , 11 . 3. Chains also may be more mystically un- derstood as of those obligations which the love of God lays upon us to do and suffer for him. Acts xx. 22. 4. Chains do sometimes signify beautiful and comely ornaments. “ Thy neck,” saith Christ to his spouse, “ is comely with chains of gold.” And again, “ I put bracelets upon thy hands, a chain about thy neck.” Song i. 10. 5. Chains also do sometimes denote great- ness and honour, such as Daniel had when the king made him the third ruler in the kingdom. Dan. v. 7, 16, 29. Now all these arc temple-chains, and are put upon us for good — some to prevent our ruin, some to dispose our minds the better, and some to dignify and make us noble. Temple- chains arc brave chains. None but temple- worshippers must wear temple-chains. XXXII. Of the Garnishing the Temple with Precious Stones. “And he garnished the house with precious stones for beauty.” 2 Chron. iii. 6, 7. 1. This is another ornament to the temple of the Lord ; wherefore, as he saith, it was gar- nished with them, he saith it was garnished with them for beauty. The line saith garnished, the margin saith covered. 2. Wherefore, I think, they were fixed as stars, or as the stars in the firmament, so they were set in the ceiling of the house as in the heaven of the holy temple. 3. And thus fixed, they do the more aptly tell us of what they are a figure ; namely ,*of the ministerial gifts and officers in the Church. For ministers, as to their gifts and office, are called stars of God, and are said to be in the hand of Christ. Rev. i. 20. 4. Wherefore, as the stars glitter and twinkle in the firmament of heaven, so do true minis- ters in the firmament of his Church. 5. So that it is said again these gifts come down from above, as signifying they distil their dew from above. And hence, again, the ministers are said to be set over us in the Lord, as placed in the firmament of his heaven to give a light upon his earth. “ There is gold and a multitude of rubies, but the lips of knowledge are a precious jewel.” Verily, it is enough to make a man in his house look always upwards, since the ceiling above head doth thus glitter with precious stones. Precious stones, all manner of precious stones, stones of all colours : “ For there are divers gifts, differences of administrations, and diversities of operations: but it is the same God which worketh all in all.” Thus had the ceiling of this house a pearl here, and there a diamond ; here a jasper, and there a sapphire; here a sardius, and there a jacinth; here a sardonius, and there an ame- thyst. “ For to one is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom, to another the word of know- ledge; to one the gift of healing, to another faith ; to this man to work miracles, to that a spirit of prophecy ; to another the discerning of spirits, to another divers kinds of tongues.” ITe also overlaid the house, beams, posts, walls, doors, &c., and all with gold. Oh what a beautiful house the temple was! how full of glory was it ! and yet all was but a shadow, a shadow of things to come, and which was to be answered in the Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of truth, by better things than these. XXXIII. Of the Windows of the Temple. “And for the house he made windows of narrow lights.” 1 Kings vi. 4. There were windows of this house, windows for the cham- bers, and windows round about. Ezek. iv. These windows were of several sizes, but all narrow — narrow without, but wide within; they also were finely wrought and beautified with goodly stones. Isa. liv. 14. 1. Windows, as they are to an house an ornament, so also to it they are a benefit. “Truly the light is good, and a pleasant thing it is for the eye to behold the sun.” The win- dow is that which Christ looks forth at, the window is that which the sun looks in at. Song ii. 9. 2. By the light which shines in at the win- dow we also see to make and keep the house clean, and also to do what business is neces- sary there to be done. “ In thy light we see light” — light to do our duty, and that both to God and man. 3. These windows, therefore, were figures of the written word, by and through which Christ shows himself to his, and by which also we apprehend him. And lienee the word of God is compared to a glass, through which the light doth come, and by which we see not only 292 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the beams of the sun, but our own smutches also. 4. The lights indeed were narrow, where- fore we see also through their antitype but darkly and imperfectly. “ Now Ave see through a glass darkly,” or as in a riddle ; “ now we know but in part.” 5. Their windows and their light are but of little service to those that are without; the world sees but little of the beauty of the Church by the light of the written word, though the Church by that light can see the dismal state of the world, and also how to avoid it. XXXIV. Of the Chambers of the Temple. In the temple Solomon made chambers. 1 Kings vi. 5. 1. The chambers were for several sizes— some little, some large ; some higher, some lower ; some more inward, and some outward. 2. These chambers were for several services : some were for rest, some to hide in, some to lav up treasure in, and some for solace and de- light. 1. They were for resting-places: here the priests and porters were wont to lodge. 2. They were for hiding-places : here Jeho- shebah hid Joash from. Athaliah the term of years. 3. They were also to lay the temple-treasure or dedicated things in, that they might be safely kept there for the worshippers. 4. And some of them were for solace and delight, and, I must add, some for durable habitation. Wherefore in some of them some dwelt always, yea, their names dwelt there when they were dead. 1. Those of them which were for rest were types of that rest which by faith we have in the Son of God, (Matt, xi.,) and of that eternal rest which we shall have in heaven by him. Heb. iv. 3. 2. Those chambers which were for hiding and security were types of that safety which we have in Christ from the rage of the world. Isa. xxvi. 20. 3. Those chambers which were for the re- ception of the treasure and dedicated things were types of Christ, as he is the common storehouse of believers. “For it pleased' the Father that in him should all fulness dwell, and of his fulness we all receive, and grace for grace.” 4. Those chambers that were for solace and delight were types of those retirements and secret meetings of Christ with the soul, where he gives her his embraces and delights her with his bosom and ravishing delights. “ He brought me,” said she, “into his chambers, into the chamber of her which conceived me,” and there he gave me his love. The chambers which were for durable dwelling-places were types of those eternal dwelling-places which are in the heav- ens, prepared of Christ and the Father for them that shall be saved. John xiv. 1-4; 2 Cor. v. 1-4. This is to dwell on high and to be safe from fear of evil. Here therefore you see are cham- bers for rest, chambers for safety, chambers for treasure, chambers for solace, and chambers for durable habitations. Oh the rest and peace that the chambers of God’s high house will yield to its inhabitants in another world ! Here they will rest from their labours, rest upon their beds, rest with God, rest from sin, temptation, and all sorrow. God, therefore, then shall wipe all tears from our eyes, even when he comes out of his cham- bers as a bridegroom to fetch his bride, his wife, unto him thither, to the end they may have eternal solace together. Oh these are far better than the chambers of the south. XXXV. Of the Stairs by which they went up into the Chambers of the Temple. There were stairs by which men went up into these chambers of the temple, and they were but one jjair, and they went from below to the first, and so to the middle, and thence to the highest chambers in the temple. 1 Kings vi. 8 ; Ezek. xli. 7. 1. These stairs were winding, so that they turned about that did go up them. So, then, he that essayed to go into these chambers must turn with the stairs, or he could not go up, no not into the lowest chambers. 2. These stairs thei'efore were a type of a twofold repentance, that by which we turn from nature to grace, and by which we turn from the imperfections which attend a state of grace to glory. Hence true repentance, or the right going up these turning stairs, is called repentance to salvation ; for true repentance stoppeth not at the reception of grace, for that is but a going up these stairs to the middle chambers. 2 Cor. vii. 10. Thus, therefore, the soul, at its going up these stairs, turns and turns till it enters the doors of the highest chambers. It groans though in a state of grace, because SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 293 that is not the state of glory. I count, then, that from the first to the middle chambers may be a type of turning from nature to grace. Hut from the middle to the highest these stairs may signify a turning still from the imperfec- tions and temptations that attend a state of grace to that of immortality and glory. 2 Cor. v. 1, 10. For as there are turning stairs from the low- est to the middle chambers, so the stairs from thence still turn, and so will do, till you come to the highest chambers. I do not say that they that have received grace do repent they have received grace, but I say that they that have received grace are yet sorry that grace is not consummate in glory, and hence are for going up thither still by these turning stairs; yea, they cannot rest below, as they would, till they ascend to the highest chambers. “ O wretched man that I am ! And in this we groan earnestly,” is the language of gracious souls. True, every one doth not do thus that comes into the temple of God ; many rest below stairs: they like not to go turning upward. Nor do I believe that all that bid fair for as- cending to the middle chambers get up to the highest stories, to his stories in the heavens. Many in churches, who seem to be turned from nature to grace, have not the grace to go up turning still, but rest in that show of things, and so die below a share in the highest cham- bers. All these things are true in the antitype, and, as I think, prefigured by these turning stairs to the chambers of the temple. But this turning and turning still displeases some much ; they say it makes them giddy ; but I say there is no way like this to make a man stand steady, steadfast in the faith, and with boldness in the day of judgment. For as he has this seated in his heart, I went up the turning stairs till I came to the highest chambers. A straight pair of stairs are like that ladder by which men as- cend to the gallows; they are the turning ones that lead us to the heavenly mansion-houses. Look, therefore, you that come into the temple of God to worship, that you stay not at the foot of these turning stairs, but go up thence ; yea, up them, and up them, and up them, till you come to the view of the heavens ; yea, till you are possessed of the highest chambers. Flow many times has God, by the Scripture, called upon you to turn, and told you you must turn or die ! and now here he has added to his call a figure, by placing a pair of turn- ing stairs in his temple, to convict your very senses that you must TURN if you mean to go up into his holy chambers, and so into his eter- nal mansion-houses; and look that you turn to purpose, for every turning will not serve. Some turn, but not to the Most High, and so turn to no purpose. XXXVI. Of the Molten Sea that was in the Temple. There was also a molten sea in the temple ; it was made of brass, and contained three thousand baths. 2 Chron. iv. 2-9. This sea was for the priests to wash in when they came into the temple to accom- plish the service of God— to wash their hands and feet at, that they might not when they came thither die for their unpreparableness. The laver also which was in the wilderness was of the same use there. Ex. xxviii. 1. It was, as may be supposed, called a sea_ for that it was large to contain, and a sea of brass, for that it was made thereto. It is called in Revelations “ a sea of glass,” alluding to that in the wilderness, which was made of the brazen looking-glasses of the women that came to worship at the door of the tabernacle. Rev. iv. 6. 2. It was also said to be molten, because it was made of that fashion by fire, and its anti- type is therefore said to be a sea of glass min- gled with fire. Rev. xv. 2. 1. This sea was a figure of the word of the Gospel in the cleansing virtue of it, which virtue then it has when mingled with the fire of the Floly Ghost. And to this Christ alludes when he saith, “Now ye are clean through the word which I have spoken unto you.” 2. It was a figure of the word without mix- ture of men’s inventions : hence it is called pure water. Having your “bodies washed with pure water.” And again, “He sanc- tifies and cleanseth his Church with the wash- ing of water by the word.” All these places are an allusion to the molten sea at which of old they washed when they went into the temple to worship. “ There- fore,” saith he, “ being washed, let us draw near to God.” 3. This sea from brim to brim was complete ten cubits, perhaps to show there is as much in the word of the Gospel to save as there is in the ten words to condemn. 4. From under this sea round about ap- peared oxen, ten in a cubit did compass it 294 B TJX Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. round about. 2 Chron iv. 3. Understand by these oxen ministers, for to them they are compared in 1 Cor. ix. 9. And then we are taught whence true ministers come — to wit, from under the power of the Gospel, for this sea breeds Gospel ministers as the water breeds fish. 1. It is also said in the text that these oxen V;’ ere cast when the sea was cast; insinuating that when God ordained a word of grace to save us, he also in his decree provided minis- ters to preach it to us to that end. Paul tells us that he was made a minister of the Gospel “ according to God’s eternal purpose, which he purposed in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Eph. iii. 6. This sea is said to have a brim like the brim of a cup, to invite us as well to drink of its grace as to wash in its water. For the word of the Spirit when mixed had not only a cleansing but a saving quality in it. 2 Chron. iv. 7. This brim was wrought with lilies, or was like a lily-flower, to show how they should grow and flourish, and with what beautiful robes they should be adorned, who were washed and did drink of this holy water; yea, that God would take care of them, as he also did of lilies, and would not fail to bestow upon them what was necessary for the body as well as for the soul. Matt. vi. 28-34. XXXVII. Upon what the Molten Sea stood in the Temple. 1. This molten sea stood upon the backs of twelve brazen bulls or oxen. 2 Chron. iv. 4. 2. These oxen, as they thus stood, looked three towards the north, three towards the west, three towards the east, and three to- wards the south. 3. These twelve oxen were types of the twelve apostles of the Lamb, who, as these beasts, stood looking into the four corners of the earth, and were bid to go preach the Gos- pel in all the world. 4. They were compared to oxen, because they were clean, for the ox was a clean beast. Hence the apostles are called holy. They were compared to oxen, because the ox is strong ; and they also were mighty in the word. 5. The ox will not lose what he has got by drawing; he will not let the wheels go back; so the apostles were set to defend, and not let that doctrine go back which they had preached to others ; nor did they ; they delivered it pure to us. 6. One of the cherubs, of which you read ' in the vision, had a face like an ox, to show that the apostles, these men of the first order, are most like the angels of God. Ezek. i. 10. 7. In that they stood with their faces every way, it was, as I said, to show how the apos- tles should carry the Gospel into all the world. Matt, xxviii. 19.' 8. And observe, just as these oxen were placed, looking in the temple every way, even so stand open the gates of the New Jeru- salem to receive those that by their doctrine should be brought into it. “ And they shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the kingdom of God.” 9. These oxen bear this molten sea upon their backs, to show that they should be the foundation workmen of the Gospel, and that it ought not to be removed,' as was the molten sea of old, from that basis to another. 10. It is also said concerning those oxen that thus did bear this molten sea that all their hinder parts were inwards — that is, cov- ered by that sea that was set upon their backs ; their hinder parts, or, as the apostle has it, “ our uncomely parts.” 11. And indeed it becomes a Gospel minis- ter to have his uncomely parts covered with that grace which by the Gospel he preacheth unto others. As Paul exhorts Timothy to take heed unto himself and to his doctrine. 1 Tim. iv. 6. 12. But, alas ! there are too many who, can they but have their heads covered with a few , Gospel notions, care not though their hinder parts are seen of all the world. But such are false ministers ; the prophet calls them the tail. The prophet that speaketh lies, either by word or with his feet, he is the tail. Isa. ix. 1. 13. But what a shame is it to hide his head under this molten sea while his hinder parts hang out! Such an one is none of Christ’s oxen; for they, with honour to their Master, show their heads before all the world, for that their hinder parts are inward, covered. 14. Look to thy hinder parts, minister, lest while thy mouth doth preach the Gospel thy nakedness and shame be seen of those which hear thee. For they that do not observe to learn this lesson themselves will not teach others to be- lieve the word nor to live a holy life; they will SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 295 learn of them to show their shame, instead of learning to be holy. XXXVIII. Of the Lavers of the Temple. Besides this molten sea there were ten la- yers in the temple, five of which were put on the right side, and five on the left. 1 Chron. iv. 6. 1. Of their fashion and their furniture you may see in 1 Kings vii. These layers, as the molten sea, were vessels which contained water, but they were not of the same use with it. True, they were both to wash in, the sea to wash the worshippers, but the layers to wash the sacrifice. “ He made the ten layers to wash in them such things as they offered for burnt- oflering, but the sea was for the priests to wash in.” 2. The burnt-offering was a type of the body of Christ which lie once offered for our sins ; and the fire on which the sacrifice was burned a type of the curse of the law, which seized on Christ when he gave himself a ran- som for us. For, therefore, that under the law was called the burnt-offering because of. the burning upon the altar. Lev. vi. 8. But what then must we understand by these lavers, and by this sacrifice being washed in them in order to its being burned upon the altar? I answer, verily I think that the ten lavers were a figure of the ten commandments: in the purity and perfection of Christ’s obedience to which he became capable of being made a burnt-offering acceptable to God for the sins of the people. Christ was made under the law, and all his acts of obedience to God for us were legal ; and his living thus a perfect legal life was his washing his offering in these ten lavers, in order to his presenting it upon the altar for our sins. The lavers went upon wheels, to signify walking feet ; and Christ walked in the law, and so became a clean off- ering to God for us. The wheels were of the very same as were the lavers, to show that Christ’s obedience to the law was of the same, as to length and breadth, with its commands and demands, to their utmost tittle and extent. The inwards and legs of the burnt-offering were to be washed in these lavers, to show that Christ should be pure and clean in heart and life. We know that obedience, whether Christ’s or ours, is called “a walking in the way,” typ- ified by the lavers walking upon their wheels. But I mean not by Christ, his washing of his offering, that he had any filthiness cleaving to his nature or obedience; yet this 1 say, that so far as our guilt laid upon him could impede, so far he wiped it off by washing in these lavers. For his offering was to be without blemish and without spot to God. Hence it is said he sanctified himself in order to his suffering; “and being made perfect, he became the author of eternal salvation to all them that obey him.” For, albeit he came holy into the world, yet that holiness was but preparatory to that by which he sanctified himself in order to his suffering for sin. That, then, which was his immediate preparation for his sufferings was his obedience to the law, his washing in these lavers. He then first yielded complete obedi- ence to the law on our behalf, and then, as so qualified, offered his washed sacrifice for our sins without spot to God. Thus, therefore, he was our burnt-offering washed in the ten lavers, that he might, ac- cording to law, be accepted of the Lord. “And he set five of the lavers on the right side of the house, and five of them on the left.” Thus were the ten divided, as the tables of the law ; one showing our duty towards our God, and the other our duty towards our neighbour; in both which the burnt-offering was washed, that it might be clean in both respects. They might also be thus placed the better to put the people in mind of the necessity of the sanction of Christ according to the law, in order to his offering of himself an offering to God for us. XXXIX. Of the Tables in the Temple. “He made also ten tables, and placed them in the temple, five on the right hand, and five on the left.” Some, if not all of these tables, so far as 1 can see, were they on which the burnt-offering was to be cut in pieces, in order to its burning. These tables were made of stone, of hewn stones, on which this work was done. Ezek. xl. 40-44. Now since the burnt-oflering was a figure of the body of Christ, the tables on which this sacrifice was slain must needs, I think, be a type of a heart, the stony heart of the Jews ; for had they not had hearts as hard as ada- mant they could not have done that thing. Upon these tables, therefore, was the death of Christ contrived and this horrid murder acted, even upon these tables of stone. 296 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. In that they are called tables of hewn stone it may be to show that all this cruelty was acted under smooth pretences, for hewn stones are smooth. - The tables were finely wrought with tools, even as the hearts of the Jews were with hypocrisy. But, alas ! they were stone still — that is, hard and cruel — else they could not have been an anvil for Satan to forge such horrid barbarisms upon. The tables were in number the same with the lavers, and were set by them, to show what are the fruits of being devoted to the law r , as the Jews were in oppo- sition to Christ and his holy Gospel : there flows nothing but hardness and a stony heart from thence. This was showed in its first writing; it was writ on the tables of stone, figures of the heart of man ; and on the same tables, or hearts, was the death of Jesus Christ compassed. One would think that the meekness, gentle- ness, or good deeds of Jesus Christ might have procured in them some relentings when they were about to take away his life; but, alas ! their hearts were tables of stone. What feeling or compassion can a stone be sensible of? Here were stony hearts, stony thoughts, stony counsels, stony contrivances, a stony law, and stony hands; and what could be expected hence but barbarous cruelty indeed? “ If I ask you,” said Christ, “you will not answer me, neither will you let me see.” In that the stony tables were placed about the temple, it supposetli that they were temple- men, priests, scribes, rulers, lawyers, &e., that were to be the chief on wdiose hearts this murder was to be designed, and by them en- acted to their own damnation without repent- ance. XL. Of the Instruments wherewith this Sacrifice was slam, and of the Four Tables they were laid on in the Temple. The instruments that were laid upon the tables in the temple were not instruments of music, but those with which the burnt-offering was slain. “And the four tables were of hewn stone for the burnt-offering: whereon also they laid the instruments wherewith they slew the burnt- offering and the sacrifice.” 1. Here we are to take notice that the tables were the same, and some of them of which we spake before. 2. That the instruments with which they %lew the sacrifice were laid upon these tables. The instruments with which they slew the sacrifices, what were they hut a bloody axe, bloody knives, bloody hooks, and bloody hands? For these we need no proof — matter of fact de- clares it. But what were those instruments a type of? Answer. Doubtless they were a type of our sins. They were the bloody axe, the knife, and bloody hands that shed his precious blood. They were the meritorious ones without which he could not have died: When I say ours, I mean the sins of the world. Though then the hearts of the Jews were the immediate con- trivers, yet they were our sins that were the bloody tools or instruments which slew the Son of God. “ He was wounded for our transgressions, he died for our sins.” Isa. liii. Oh the instruments of us churls, by which this poor man was- taken from off the earth ! Isa. xxxii. 7. The whip, thebuffetings, the crown of thorns, the nails, the cross, the spear, with the vinegar and gall, were all nothing in comparison to our sins. “For the transgressions of my people was he stricken.” Nor were the flouts, taunts, mocks, scorns, derisions, &c., with which they followed him from the garden to the cross such cruel instruments as. these. They were our sins, then, our cursed sins, by, with, and for the sake of Vvhich the Lord Jesus became a bloody sac- rifice. But why must the instruments be laid upon the tables? 1. Take the tables for the hearts of the mur- derers and the instruments for their sins, and what place more fit for such instruments to be laid upon? It is God’s command that these things should be laid to heart, and he complains of those that do not do it. 2. Nor are men ever like to come to good until these instruments with which the Iron of God was slain indeed be laid to heart. And they were eminently laid to heart even by them soon after; the effect of which was the conversion of thousands of them. Acts. ii. 36, 37. 3. Wherefore when it says these instruments must be laid upon the stony tables, he insinu- ates that God would take a time to charge the murder of his Son home upon the consciences of them that did the murder, either to conver- sion or condemnation. And is it not reason that they who did this horrid villainy should have their doings laid before their faces upon the tables of their heart, “that they may look SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 297 upon him whom they have pierced, and mount ?” 4. But these instruments were laid but upon some of the tables, and not upon all the ten, to show that not all, but some of those so horrid, should find mercy of the Lord. 5. But we must not coniine these tables only to the hearts of the bloody Jews; they were our sins for the which he died. Wherefore the instruments should be laid upon our tables too, and the Lord lay them there for good, that we also may see our horrid doings and come bending to him for forgiveness. 6. These instruments thus lying on the ta- bles in the temple became a continual motive to God’s people to repentance; for so oft as they saw these bloody and cruel instruments they were put in mind how their sins should be the cause of the death of Christ. 7. It would be well also if these instruments were at all times laid upon our tables, for our more humbling for our sins in every thing we do, especially upon the Lord’s table when we come to eat and drink before him. I am sure the Lord Jesus doth more than intimate that he expects that we should do so, where he saith, “When ye eat that bread, and drink that cup, do this in remembrance of me” — in remembrance that I died for your sins, and consequently that they were the meritorious cause of the shedding of my blood. To conclude: Let all men remember that these cruel instruments are laid upon the table of their hearts, whether they see them or no. “The sin of Judah is written with a pen of iron and with the point of a diamond upon the tables of their, heart.” A pen of iron will make letters upon a table made of stone, and the point of a diamond will make letters upon glass. Wherefore in this saying God informs us that if we shall forbear to read these lines to our conversion, God will one day read them against us to our condemnation. XLI. Of the Candlesticks of the Temple. “And he made ten candlesticks of gold, ac- cording to the form, and he set them in the temple, five on the right hand, and five on the left.” 1. These candlesticks were made of gold, to show the worth and value of them. 2. They were made after the form or exact, according to rule, like those that were made in the tabernacle, or according to the pattern which David gave to Solomon to make them by. Observe, there was great exactness in these; and need there was of this hint, that men might see that every thing will not pass for a right-ordered candlestick with God. These candlesticks are said sometimes to be ten, sometimes seven, and sometimes one: ten here, seven in Rev. i., and one in Zecli. iv. Ten is a note of multitude, and seven a note of perfection, and one a note of unity. Now as the precious stones with which the house was garnished were a type of minis- terial gifts, so these candlesticks were a type of those that were to be the churches of the New Testament; wherefore lie says, “The candlesticks which thou sawest are the seven churches.” 1. The candlesticks were here in number ten, to show that Christ under the New Testa- ment would have many Gospel churches. “And I, if I be lifted up from the earth,” saith he, “will draw all men unto me;” that is, abundance. “For the children of the desolate” — that is, of the New Testament Church — “ shall be many more than they of the Jews were.” 2. In that the candlesticks were set by the layers and stony tables, it might be to show us that Christ’s churches should be much in considering that Christ, though he was right- eous, yet died for our sins'; though his life was according to the holy law, yet our stony hearts caused him to die. Yea, and that the candle- sticks are placed there, it is to show us also that we should be much in looking on the sins by which we caused him to die ; for the can- dlesticks were set by those tables whereon they laid the instruments with which they slew T the sacrifice. 3. The candlesticks being made according to form, seems not only to be exact as to fashion, but also as to work ; for that in Ex- odus, with its furniture, was made precisely of one talent of gold, perhaps to show that Christ’s true spouse is not to be a grain more nor a dram less, but just the number of God’s elect. This is Christ’s completeness, his ful- ness; one more, one less, would make his body a monster. 4. The candlesticks were to hold the light, and to show it to all the house ; and the Church is to let her light shine that they without may see the light. 5. To this end the candlesticks were sup- plied with oil-olive, a type of the supply that the Church hath, that her light may shine, even of the Spirit of grace. RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 298 XLII. Of the Lamps belonging to the Candle- sticks of the Temple. To these candlesticks belonged several lamps, with their flowers and their knops. 2 Chron. v. 21. 1. These lamps were types of that pro- fession that the members of the Church do make of Christ, whether such members have saving grace or not. Matt. xxv. 1-7. 2. These lamps were beautified with knops and flowers, to show how comely and beautiful that professor is that adorns his profession with a suitable life and conversation. 8. We read that the candlestick in Zecha- riah had seven lamps belonging to it, and a bowl of golden oil on the top ; and that by golden pipes this golden oil emptied itself into the lamps, and all, doubtless, that the lamps might shine. Zech. iv. 4. Christ, therefore, who is the high priest, and to whom it belongs to dress the lamps, doth dress them accordingly. But now there are lamp-carriers of two sorts — such as have only oil in their lamps, and such as have oil in their lamps and vessels too ; and both these belong to the Church, and in both these Christ w r ill be glorified ; and they should have their proper places at last. They that have the oil of grace in their hearts, as well as a profession of Christ in their hands, they shall go in with him to the wedding; but they who only make a profession, and have not oil in their vessels, will surely miscarry at last. Matt. xxv. 5. Wherefore, 0 thou professor ! thou lamp- carrier ! have a care and look to thyself ; con- tent not thyself with that only that will main- tain thee in a profession, for that may be done without saving grace. But I advise thee to go to Aaron, to Christ, the trimmer of our lamps, and beg thy vessel full of oil of him, (that is grace,) for the seasoning of thy heart, that thou mayest have wherewith not only to bear thee up now, but at the day of the Bride- groom’s coming, when many a lamp will go out and many a professor be left in the dark ; for that will to such be a woeful day. Some there are that are neither for lamps uor oil for themselves, neither are they pleased if they think they see it in others. But they that have lamps, and they that have none, and they which blow out other folks’ light, must shortly appear to give an account of all their doings to God. And then they shall see what it is to 1 have oil in their vessels and lamps, and what it is to be without it in their vessels, though it is in their lamps, and what a dismal thing it is to he a malignant to either ; but at present let this suffice. XLIII. Of the Shew-bread on the Golden Table in the Temple. There was also shew-bread set upon a golden table in the temple. 1 Kings vii. 48. The shew-bread consisted of twelve cakes made of fine flour ; “ two tenths deals were to go to one cake, and they were to be set in order in two rows upon the pure table.” Ex. xxix. 33. These twelve loaves to me do seem to he a type of the twelve tribes under the law, and of the children of God under the Gospel, as they present themselves before God, in and by his ordinances through Christ. Hence the apostle says, “For we being many are one bread,” &c. For so were the twelve cakes, though twelve; and so are the Gospel saints, though many : “ for we being many are one body in Christ.” 2. But they were a type of the true Church, not of the false. For Ephraim, who was the head of the ten tribes in their apostacy, is re- jected as a cake not turned. Indeed he is called a cake, as a false church may be called a church; but he is called a cake not turned, as a false church is not prepared for God, nor fit to be set on the golden table before him. Hos. vii. 8. 3. These cakes or shew-bread were to have frankincense strewed upon them as they stood upon the golden table, which was a type of the sweet perfumes of the sanctification of the Holy Ghost; to which I think Paul alludes when he says, “The offering up of the Gentiles is acceptable to God, being sanctified by the Holy Ghost.” 4. They were to be set upon the pure table new and hot, to show that God delighteth in the company of new and warm believers. “ I remember thee, the kindness of thy youth; when Israel was a child I loved him.” Men at first conversion are like to a cake well baked and new taken from the oven ; they are warm and cast forth a very fragrant scent, especially when as warm sweet incense is strewed upon them. Jer. ii. ; Hos. xi. 5. When the shew-bread was old and stale it was to he taken away and new and warm put in its place, to show that God has but little delight in the service of his own people when their services grow stale and mouldy. There- fore he removed his old, stale, mouldy Church SOLO.VON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 209 of the Jews from before him, and set in their rooms upon the golden table the warm Church of the Gentiles. 6. The show-bread, by an often remove and renewing, was continually to stand before the Lord in his house, to show us that always, as long as ordinances shall he of use, God will have a new, warm, and sanctified people to worship him. 7. Aaron and his sons were to eat the old shew-bread, to show that when saints have lived in the world as long as living is good for them, and when they can do no more service for God in the world, they shall yet be ac- cepted of Jesus Christ; and that it shall be as meat and drink to him to save them from all their unworthiness. 8. The new shew-bread was to be set even on the sabbath before the Lord, to show with what warmth of love and affection God’s ser- vants should approach his presence upon his holy day. XLIY. Of the Snuffers belonging to the Candle- sticks and Lamps of the Temple. As there were candlesticks and lamps, so there were snuffers also prepared for these in the temple of the Lord. “And the snuffers were snuffers of gold.” 1. Snuffers. The use of snuffers is to trim the lamps and candles, that tlicir lights may shine the brighter. 2. Snuffers, you know, are biting, pinching things, but use them well, and they will prove not only beneficial to those within the house, but profitable to the lights. Snuffers, you may say, of what were they a type ? Answer. If our snuffs are our superfluities of naughtiness, our snuffers, then, are those right- eous reproofs, rebukes, and admonitions which Christ has ordained to be in his house for good ; or, as the apostle hath it, for our edification ; and perhaps Paul alludes to these when he bids us rebuke the Cretans sharply, that they might be found in the faith. Tit. i. 12, 13. As who should say, They must use the snuf- fers of the temple to trim their lights withal, if they burn not well. These snuffers, there- fore, are of great use in the temple of God, only, as I said, they must needs be used wisely. It is not for every fool to handle snuffers at or about the candles, lest perhaps, instead of mending the light he put the candle out. And therefore Paul bids them that are spiritual do it Gal. vi. i. My reason tells me that if I use these snuf- fers as I should, I must not only endeavour to take the superfluous snuff away, but so to do it that the light thereby may be mended; which then is done if, as the apostle saith, “I use sharpness to edification, and not for destruc- tion.” Are not the seven churches in Asia called by the name of candlestick? And why candle- stick if they were not to hold the candles? And candles must have snuffers therewith to trim the lights. And Christ, who is our true Aaron, in those rebukes which lie gave those churches, alluding to these snuffers, did it that their lights might shine the brighter. Rev. ii. 3. Wherefore, as he used them, he did it still with caution to their light, that it might not be impaired. For, as he still thus trimmed these lamps, he vet encouraged what he saw would shine if helped. He only nipped the snuff away. Thus therefore he came to them with these snuffers in his hand, and trimmed their lamps and candlesticks. Rev. ii. 4, 20; chap. iii. 2, 15. This should teach ministers, to whom it be- longs under Christ, to use these snuffers well. Strike at the snuff, not at the light, in all your rebukes and admonitions; snuff’ not your lamps of a private revenge, but of a design to nourish grace and gifts in churches. Thus our Lord himself says he did in his using of these snuf- fers about these candlesticks. “ As many,” saith he, “ as I love, I rebuke and chasten ; be zealous, therefore, and repent.” To conclude: Watchmen, watch, and let not your snuffs be too long, nor pull them off with your fingers or carnal reasonings, but with godly admonitions, &c. Use your snuffers graciously, curb vice, nourish virtue; so you will use them well, and so your light will shine to the glory of God. XLV. Of the Snuff-dishes that were with the Snuffers in the Temple. As there were snuffers, so there were also snuff-dishes in the temple; “and they were also made of gold.” Ex. xxv. 2S; xxxvii. 23; Num. iv. 9. The snuff-dishes were those in which the snuff’s were put when snuffed off, and by which they were carried forth of the temple. They, therefore, as the snuffers are, are of great use in the temple of God. 1. By them the golden floor of the temple is j kept from being daubed by the snuffs. 2. By them also the clean hands of those I that worship there are kept from being defiled. 300 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 3. By them also the stinks of the snuffs are soonest suppressed in the temple, and conse- quently the tender noses of them that worship there preserved from being offended. Snuffs, you know, are daubing things, stink- ing things, nauseous things ; therefore we must take heed that they touch not this floor on which we walk, nor defile the hands which we lift up to God when we come to worship him. But how must this be done but as we take them off with the snuffers and put them in their snuff-dishes ? Some are for being at the snuffs with their fingers, and will also cast them at their feet, and daub the floor of God’s holy house; but usually such do burn as well as defile them- selves. But is it not a shame for a man to defile himself with that vice which he rebuketh in another? Let us, then, while we are taking away the snuffs of others, hate even the gar- ment spotted by the flesh, and labour to carry such stink with the snuff-dishes out of the temple of God. Snuff-dishes, you may say, what are they ? I answer, if sins are the snuffs, and rebukes and admonitions the snuffers, then inethinks repentance — or, in case that be wanting, the censures of the Church — should be the snuff- dishes. Hence repentance is called a Church-cleans- ing grace, and the censures of the Church a purging out cf the old leaven and making it a new lump. Ah ! were these snuff-dishes more of use in the churches, we should not have this man’s snuff defile that man’s fingers as it doth. Nor would the temple of God be so besmeared with these snuffs and be daubed as it is. Ah ! snuffs pulled off lie still in the temple floor, and there stink and defile both feet and fingers, both the callings and conversations of temple-worshippers, to the disparaging of re- ligion and the making of religious worship but of low esteem with men ; and all, I say, for want of the due use of these snuffers and their snuff-dishes there. Nay, are not whole churches now defiled with those very snuffs that long since were plucked off, and all for want of the use of these snuff-dishes according to the Lord’s command- ment? For you must know that reproofs and admonitions are but of small use where repent- ance or Church censures are not thereto an- nexed. When ministers use the snuffers the people should hold the snuff-dishes. Bound reproofs for sin, when they light upon penitent hearts, then brave woik is done in the Church ; then the snuff is not only pulled away, but carried out of the temple of God aright, &c. And now the worship and worshippers shine like gold. “As an earring of gold and an ornament of fine gold, so is a wise reprover upon an obedient ear. ” Ministers, it appertains to you to use the snuffers, and to teach the people to hold the snuff-dishes right. Acts xx. 20, 21 ; 1 Tim iv. 2. We must often be snuffed with those snuf- fers, or our light will burn but dimly, our candle will also waste : pray, therefore, 0 men of God, look diligently to your people. Snuff them as you see there is need, but touch not their snuff with your white fingers; a little smutch on you will be seen a great way. Be- member also that you leave them nowhere but with those snuff-dishes, that the temple may be cleared of them. Do with the snuff as the neat housewife doth with the toad which she finds in her garden. She takes the fork or a> pair of tongs, and therewith doth throw it over the pales. Cast them away, I say, with fear, zeal, care, revenge, and with great indignation. 2 Cor. vii. 11. And then your Church, your conversation, your fingers, and all will be kept white and clean. XLYI. Of the Golden Tongs belonging to the Temple. There were also tongs of gold used in the temple of old. 1 Kings vii. 49. 1. These tongs were used about the altar to order the fire there. 2. They were used too about the candlestick, and therefore called his tongs. 3. Perhaps there were tongs for both these services, but of that the word is silent. But what were they used about the candle- stick to do ? Answer. To take holy fire from off the altar to light the lamps withal. For the fire of the temple was holy fire, such as at first was kin- dled from heaven, and, when kindled, main- tained by the priests, and of that the lamps were lighted. Lev. ix. 24. Nor was there upon pain of death any other fire to be used there. Lev. x. 1. These tongs, therefore, were used to take fire from off the altar to light the lamps and candlesticks withal. For to trim the lights and to dress the lamps was Aaron’s work day by day. “He shall light and order the lamps upon the pure can- SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUAL I ZED. 30: dlestick before the Lord, and Aaron did so : he lighted the seven lamps thereof, as the Lord commanded Moses.” What is a lamp .or candlestick to us if there be not light thereon? and how lighted without fire? and how shall we take up coals to light the lamps withal if we have not tongs pre- pared for that purpose? With these tongs fire also was taken from off the altar and put into the censers to burn sweet incense with before the Lord. The tongs, then, were of great use in the temple of the Lord. But what were the tongs a type of? The altar was a type of Christ, the fire of the Holy Ghost ; and these tongs were a type of that holy hand of God’s grace by which the coals, or several dispensations and gifts of this Holy Ghost, are taken and given to the Church and to her members for her work and profit in this world. Tongs, we know, are used instead of fingers; wherefore Aaron’s golden tongs were a type of Christ’s golden fingers. Song v. 14. Isaiah saith, That one of the seraphims flew to him with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar. Here the type and antitype — to wit, tongs and hand — are put together. Isa. vi. But the prophet Ezekiel, treating of like matters, quite waives the type, the tongs, and speaketh only of this holy hand. “ And he spake to the man clothed with linen, and said, Go in between the wheels under the cherub, (where the mer- cy-seat stood, where God dwelt,) and fill thy hand with coals of fire from between the clieru- bims.” Thus you see our golden tongs arc now turned into a golden hand — into the golden hand of the man clothed in linen, which is Jesus Christ, who at his ascension received of God the Father the Spirit in all fulness, to give, as his divine wisdom knew was best, the several coals or dispensations thereof unto this Church, for his praise and her edification. Matt. iii. 11 ; Acts ii. It is by Ihis hand also that this holy fire is put into our censers. It is this hand also that takes this coal wherewith to touch the lips of ministers, that their words may warm like fire ; and it is by this hand that the Spirit is given to the churches as returns of their holy prayers. It was convenient that fire in the temple should be disposed of by golden tongs, by the Holy Ghost, by the golden hand of Christ’s grace, for that can wittingly dispose of it, ac- cording as men and things are placed, and to do and be done in the churches. Wherefore he adds, “And one cherub stretched forth his hand from between the cherubims unto the fire that was between the cherubims, and took thereof and put it into the hands of him that was clothed with linen, who took it and went out.” By this hand, then, by this man’s hand, the coals of the altar are disposed of, both to the lamps, the candlesticks, the censers, and the lips of ministers according to his own good pleasure. And of all this were the tongs in the temple a type. XLVII. Of the Altar of Incense in the Temple. The altar of incense was made first for the tabernacle, and that of shittim wood, but it was made for the temple of cedar; and it was to be set before the veil, that is, by the ark of the testimony, before the mercy-seat, that is, at the entering of the holiest, but not with- in. And the priest was to approach it every morning, which, as to the holiest, he might not do. Besides, when he went in to make an atone- ment, lie was to take fire from off that altar to burn his incense within the holy place. Ex. xxx. 4-11. It was called the “golden altar,” because it was overlaid with pure gold. This altar was not for burnt-offering, as the brazen altar was, not for the meat-offering, nor the drink-offer- ing, but to burn incense thereon, (ver. 7,) which sweet incense was a type of the grace of prayer. Ps. cxii. 2. 2. Incense, or that called incense here, was not a simple, but a compound, made up of sweet spices called “ Stacte,” “ Onyclia,” and “ Galbanum.” These three may answer to these three parts of this duty — to wit, prayer, supplication, and intercession. 3. This incense was to be burned upon the altar every morning — upon that altar which was called “ the altar of incense,” which was before the veil — to show that it is our duty every morning to make our prayer to God by Jesus Christ before the veil — that is, before the door of heaven, and there to seek, knock, and ask for what we need, according to the word. Luke xi. 4. This incense was to be kindled every morning, to show how he eontinueth interced- ing for us, and also that all true praise of men to God is by the work, the renewed work, of the Holy Ghost upon our hearts. Bom. viii. 26. 5. Incense, as you sec, was made of sweet «pices, such as were gummy, and so apt t( burn 302 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. with a smoke, to show that not cold and flat, but hot and fervent, is the prayer that flows from the Spirit of faith and grace. 6. The smoke of this incense was very sweet and savoury, like pleasant perfume, to show how delightful and acceptable the very sound and noise of right prayer is unto the nostrils of the living God, because from a broken heart. Ps. li. 17 ; Song ii. 14. 7. This incense was to be offered upon the golden altar, to show us that no prayer is ac- cepted but what is directed to God in the name of his holy and blessed Son our Saviour. 1 Pet. ii. 5; Heb. xiii. 15. 8. They were commanded to burn incense every morning upon this altar, to show that God is never weary of the godly prayers of his people. It also showeth that we need every day to go to God for fresh supplies of grace to carry us through this evil world. 9. This altar, though it stood without the veil, to teach us to live by faith, and to make use of the name of Christ, as we find it re- corded in the first temple, yet was placed so nigh unto the holiest that the smell of the smoke might go in thither, to show that it is not distance of place that can keep the voice of true prayer from our God, the God of heav- en, but that he will be taken with what we ask for according to his word. It stood, I say, nigh the veil, nigh the holi- est ; and he that burnt incense there did make his approach to God. Hence the Psalmist, when he speaks of praying, saith, “ It is good for me to draw nigh unto God.” 10. This altar thus placed, did front the ark within the veil, to put us in mind that the law is kept therein from hurting us ; to let us know also that the mercy-seat is above, upon the ark, and that God doth sit thereon, with his pardon in his hand to save us. Oh what speak- ing things are types, shadows, and parables, had we but eyes to see, had we but ears to hear ! He that did approach the altar with incense of old aright (and then he did so when he ap- proached it by Aaron, his high priest) pleased God ; how much more shall we have both per- son and prayers accepted, and a grant of what we need, if indeed we come as we should to God by Jesus Christ ! But take heed you approach not to a wrong altar ; take heed also that you come not with strange fire, for they are dangerous things, and cause the worshippers to miss of what they would enjoy. But more of this in the next particular. XLVIII. Of the Golden Censers belonging to the Temple. There was also golden censers belonging to the temple, and they were either such as belonged to the sons of Levi in general, or that were for Aaron and his sons in special, as Num. xvi. 16, 17, 18. The censers of the Levites w r ere a type of ours, but the censer of Aaron was a type of Christ’s. The censers, as was hinted before, were for this use in the temple: namely, to hold the holy fire in on which incense was to be burned before the Lord. Lev. x. 1. The censers were then types of hearts. Aaron’s golden one was a type of Christ’s golden heart, and the censers of the Levites were types of other worshippers’ hearts. The fire also which was put therein was a type of the spirit by which we pray, and the incense that burnt thereon a type of our desires. Of Christ’s censer we read in Rev. viii., which is always filled with much incense — that is, with continual intercessions which he offereth to God for us; and from whence also there always goes a cloud of sweet savour, covering the mercy-seat. But to speak of 'the censers, and fire, and in- cense of the worshippers ; for albeit they were all put under one rule, that is, to be according to law ; yet oftentimes as were the worshippers such were the censers, fire, and incense. 1. Hence the two hundred and fifty censei's with which Korah and his company offered are called the censers of sinners : for they came with wicked hearts there to burn incense be- fore the Lord. Num. xvi. 17, 37. 2. Again, as the censers of these men were called the censers of sinners, showing they came at that time to God with naughty hearts, so the fire that was in Nadab and Abihu’s cen- sers is called strange fire, which the Lord com- manded them not. Lev. x. 1. 3. This strange fire was a type of that strange spirit, opposed to the Spirit of God, in and by which, notwithstanding, some adventure to perform worship to God. 4. Again, as these censers are called the cen- sers of sinners, and this fire called strange fire, so the incense of such is also called strange, and it is said to be an abomination unto God. Ex. xxx. 9. Thus you see that both the censers, fire, and incense of some is rejected, even as the heart, spirit, and prayer of sinners are an abomina- tion unto God. SOLOMON’S TEMPI, But there were besides these, true censers, holy fire, and sweet incense among the wor- shippers in the temple, and their service was accepted by Aaron their high priest; for that was through the faith of Christ, and these were a type of our true Gospel worshippers, who come with holy hearts, the holy spirit, and holy desires before their God by their Redeem- er. These are a perfume in his nose. “ The prayers of the upright is his delight. David’s prayer went up like incense, and the lifting up of his hands as the evening sacrifice.” Let them, then, that pretend to worship be- fore God in his holy temple, look to it that both their censers, fire, and incense, heart, spirit and desires be such as the word requires, lest, instead of receiving of gracious returns from the God of heaven, their censers be laid up against them ; lest the fire of God devour them, and their incense become an abomina- tion to him, as it happened to those made mention of before. But it is said the censers of Korah and his company were hallowed. Answer. So is God’s worship, which is so his by ordination, yet even that very worship may be spoiled by man’s transgressions. Prayer is God’s ordinance, but all prayer is not accepted of God. We must then distinguish between the thing commanded and our using of that thing. The temple was God’s house, but was abused by the irreverence of these that wor- shipped there, even to the demolishing of it. A golden censer is a gracious heart, heavenly fire is the Holy Ghost, and sweet incense the effectual, fervent prayer of faith. Have you these ? These God expects, and these you must have if ever your persons or performances be of God accepted. XLIX. Of the Golden Spoons of the Temple. 1. The golden spoons belonging to the tem- ple were in number, according to Moses, twelve, answering to the twelve tribes. But when the temple was built I suppose there were more, because of the number of the basons. Num. vii. 2. These spoons, as I suppose, w’ere for the worshippers in the temple to eat that broth withal wherein the trespass-offerings were boil- ed ; for which purpose there were several cal- drons hanged in the cornel's of that court called the priests’ to boil them in. 3. Now in that he saith here were spoons, what is it but that there are also babes in the temple of the Lord. There was broth for babes E SPIRITUALIZED. 303 as well as meat for men, and spoons to eat the broth withal. 4. True, the Gospel being more excellent than the law, doth change the term, and, in- stead of broth, saith there is milk for babes. But in that lie saith milk, he insinuates there are spoons for children in the Church. 5. “I could not,” saith Paul to them at Corinth, “ speak to you as unto spiritual, but as unto carnal, even as unto babes in Christ. I have fed you with milk and not with meat; for hitherto ye were not able to bear it, neither yet now are ye able.” 6. See, here were need of spoons. Milk is spoon meat ; for here were those which could not feed themselves with milk; let them then that are men eat the strong meat. “ For every one that usetli milk is unskilful in the word of righteousness, for lie is a babe. For strong meat belongeth to them that are of full age, who by reason of use have their senses exer- cised to discern both good and evil.” 7. Spoons, you know, are to feed us with weak and thin food, even with that which best suiteth with weak stomachs or with a babyish temper. Hence as the strong man is opposed to the weak, so the milk is opposed to the strong meat. 8. So, then, though the babe in Christ is weaker than the man in Christ, yet is he not by Christ left unprovided for; for here is milk for babes, and spoons to eat it with. All this is taught us by the spoons; for what need is here of spoons where there is nothing to eat but strong meat? 9. Babes, you know, have not only babyish stomachs, but also babyish tricks, and must be dealt withal as babes; their childish talk and froward carriages must be borne withal. 10. Sometimes they cry for nothing, yea, and count them for their foes which rebuke their childish toys and ways. All which the Church must bear, because they are God’s babes; yea, they must feed them too: for if he has found them milk and spoons, it is that they may be fed therewith, and live: yea, grown ministers are God’s nurses, wherefore they must have a lap to lay them in, and knees to dandle them upon, and spoons to feed them with. 11. Nor are the babes without their use in the Church of God; for he commands that they be brought to cry with the congregation before the Lord for mercy for the land. Joel ii. 16. 12. Incense, I told you, was a type of 304 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. prayers, and the spoons, in the time of Moses, were presented at the temple full of it; per- haps to show that- God will, with the milk which he has provided for them, give it to them as a return for their crying to him, even as the nurse gives the child the teat and milk. 13. You know the milk is called for when the child is crying, as w r e say to stop its mouth w r ith it. 0 babes, did you but cry soundly, God would give you yet more milk. 14. But what were these golden spoons a type of? I answer, If the milk is the juice and con- solation of the word, then the spoons must be those soft sentences and golden conclusions with which the ministers feed their souls by it. I have fed you, saith Paul, with the milk of the word: saith Peter, even as you have been able to bear it. 15. And this is the way to strengthen the weak hands and to confirm the feeble knees. This is the way to make them grow to be men who now are but as infants of days. Thus a little one may become a thousand, and a small one a strong nation. Yea, thus in time you may make a little child to jostle it with a leopard, yea, to take a lion by the head ; yea, thus you may embolden him to put his hand to the hole of the asp and to play before the den of the cockatrice. Isa. xi. 6, 7, 8. Who is most stout was once a babe; he that can now eat meat was sometimes glad of milk and to be fed with the spoon. Babes in Christ therefore must not be despised nor overlooked; God has provided them milk and spoons to eat it with, that they may grow up to be men be- fore him. L. Of the Bowls and Basons belonging to the Temple. As there were spoons, so there were bowls and basons belonging to the temple: some of these were of gold and some of silver; and when they were put together their number was four hundred and forty. These you read of in Ezra i. 10. The bowls or basons were not to wash in, as was the sea and lavers of the tem- ple; they were rather to hold the messes in which the priests at their holy feasts did use to set before the people. This being so, they were types of that portion of faith by which, or by the measure of which, every man re- ceives of the holy food for the nourishment of his soul. For as a man, had he a thousand messes set before him, he eating for his health, cannot go beyond what his stomach will bear, so neither can the child of God, when he come to ivorship in the temple of God, receive the good things that are there beyond the “por- tion of his faith,” or, as it is in another place, “according to the ability which God givetb.” And hence it is at the selfsame ordinance some receive three times as much as others do, for that their bowl — I mean their faith — is able to receive it. Yea, Benjamin’s mess was five times as big as was the mess of any of his brethren; and so it is with some saints while they eat with their brother Joseph in the house of the living God. There are three go to the same ordinance, and are all of them believers, who, when they come and compare notes, do find their receiv- ings are not of the same quantity. One says, I got but little; the other says, It was a pretty good ordinance to me ; the third says, I was exceeding well there. Why to be sure, he that had but little there had there but little faith, but great faith in him would have received more. He had it then according to the largeness of his bowl, even “according to his faith, even as God hath dealt to every man the measure of faith.” Mark, faith is a cer- tain measure, and that not only as 'to its de- gree, but for that it can receive, retain, or hold what is put in it. So, then, here it is no matter how much milk or holy broth there is, but how big is thy bowl, thy faith. Little bowds hold but little, nor canst thou receive but as thy faith will bear, (I speak now of God’s ordinary dealing with his people;) for so he saith in his word, “Ac- cording to thy faith be it unto thee.” If a man goeth to the ocean for water, let him carry but an egg-shell with him, and with that he shall not bring a gallon home. I know indeed that our little pots have a promise of being made like the bowls of the altar; but still our mess must be according to our meas- ure, be that small or be it great. The same prophet saith again, The saints shall be filled like bowls, as the corners of the altar; which, though it supposes an enlargement, yet it must be confined to the measure of faith which is provided for its reception. Zech. ix. 15 ; xiv. 2. And suppose these bowls should signify the promises, though the saints, not the promises, are compared to them, because they, not prom- ises, are the subjects of faith ; yet it is the promise by our measure of faith in that that is nourishing to our souls. When Ahasuerus made a feast to his sub- jects they drank their wine in bowls. They SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 305 did not drink it by tho largeness of the vessel whence they drew it, but according to their health and as their stomachs would so receive it. Esth. i. Thy faith, then, is one of the bowls or basons of the temple, by, or according to which, thou reccivedst thy mess when sitting feasting at the table of God. And observe, all the bowls were not made of gold, as all faith is not of a saving sort. It is the golden faith that is right ; the silver bowls yvere of an inferior sort. Rev. iii. 18. Some, I say, have golden faith ; all faith is not so. Wherefore look to it, soul, that thy bowl, thy faith, be golden faith, or of the best kind. Look, I say, after a good faith and great, for a great faith receives a great mess. Of old, beggars did use to carry their bowls in their laps when they went to a door for alms. Consequently, if their bowls were but little, they ofttiines came off by the loss, though the charity of the giver was large. Yea, the greater the charity the larger the loss, because the beggar’s bowl was too little. Mark it well, it is ofttiines thus in the matters of our God. Art thou a beggar, a beggar at God’s door, be sure thou gettest a great bowl, for as thy bowl is, so- will be thy mess. “According to thy faith,” saitli he, “ be it unto thee.” LI. Of the Flagons and Cups of the Temple. The next things to be considered are the flagons and cups of the temple ; of these we read in 1 Chron. xxviii. 17; Jer. Iii. 19. These were of great use among the Jews, especially on their feasting-days, as their sab- baths, new moons, and the like. Lev. xxiii. 13. For instance, the day that David danced be- fore the ark he dealt among all the people, even to the whole multitude of Israel, as well to the women as to the men, to every man a cake of bread, a good piece of flesh, and a flagon of wine. 2 Sam. vi. 19. “In this mountain” — that is, in the temple typically — saitli the prophet, “ shall the Lord of hosts make unto all people a feast of fat things, a feast of wine on the lees, of fat things full of marrow, of wine on the lees well re- fined.” These are feasting-times, the times in which our Lord used to have his spouse into his wine cellar, and in which he used to display with delight his banner over her head in love. Song ii. 5. The Church of Christ, alas! is of herself a very sickly, puling thing, a woman, a weaker 20 vessel ; but bow much more must she needs be so weak when she is sick of love ! Then she indeed has need of a draught, for she now sinks, and will not else be supported: “Stay me with flagons,” saitli she, “and comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love.” These flagons, therefore, were types of those feastings and of those large draughts of divine love that the Lord Jesus draweth for and givctli to his spouse in those days that he feast- eth with her; for then he saitli, “Drink, yea, drink abundantly, O beloved.” This he does to cheer her up under the hours of sadness and dejection ; for now “ new corn makes young men cheerful, and new wine the maids.” Prov. xxxi. <3, 7. As there were flagons, so there were cups ; and they are called cups of consolation and cups of salvation, because, as I said, they were they by which God, at his feastings with his people, or when he suppeth with them, givetli out the more large draughts of his love unto his saints, to revive the spirits of the humble and to revive the hearts of the contrite ones. At these times God made David’s cup run over. For we are now admitted, if our faith will bear it, to drink freely into his grace, and to be merry with him. Ps. xxiii. 5; Luke xv. 22, 24. This is that to which the apostle alludcth when he saitli, “ Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, but be ye filled with the Spirit ; speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your hearts unto the Lord.” For the cups, as to their use in the general, understand them as of the bowls made mention of before. For assurances are the blooms and flowers of faith, not always on it, though usually on feasting-days it is so. So the de- grees of the one is still according to the meas- ure of the other. Epli. v. 18; James v. ; Rom. xv. 13. LII. Of the Chargers of the Temple. In the tabernacle they had but twelve of them, and they were made of silver ; but in the temple they had in all a thousand and thirty. The thirty were made of gold, and the rest were made of silver. Num. vii. 7. These chargers were not for uses common or profane, but, as I take it, they were those in which the passover and other meat-offerings were dressed up when the people came to eat before God in his holy temple. The meat, you know, I told you, was oppo- 306 BZJNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. site to milk ; and so are these chargers to the bowls, and cups, and flagons of the temple. The meat was of two sorts, roast or boiled. Of that which was roasted was the passover ; and of that which was boiled were the trespass- offerings. Wherefore, concerning the pass- over he saith, “ Eat not of it raw, nor sodden at all in water, but roast with fire; his head with his legs, and with the purtenance thereof.” This roast meat was a type of the body of Christ as suffering for our sins, the which, when it was roast, was and is dressed up in chargers, and set before the congregations of the saints. But what were the chargers a type of? I also ask, In what chargers our Gospel passover is now dressed up and set before the people? Is it not in the evangelists, the prophets, and epistles of the apostles?' They therefore are the chargers and the ordinance of the supper ; in these also are the trespass- offerings, with what is fried in pans, mystically prepared for the children of the Highest. And why might they not be a type of Gos- pel sermons ? I answer, I think not so fitly, for, alas ! the best of sermons in the world are but as thin slices cut out of those large dishes. Our ministers are the carvers, good doctrine is the meat, and the chargers in which this meat is found are the holy canonical Scriptures, &c., though, as I said, most properly the New Tes- tament of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. There is in these chargers not only meat, but sauce (if you like it) to eat the meat withal; for the passover t-here are bitter herbs or sound repentance; and for other, as the thank-offerings, there is holy cheerfulness and prayers to God for grace. All these are set forth before in the holy Scriptures, and pre- sented to us thereby as in the golden chargers of the temple. He that will scoff at this, let him scoff. The chargers were a type of some- thing ; and he that can show a fitter antitype than is here proposed to consideration, let him do it and I will be thankful to him. Christians, here is your meat before you; and this know, the deeper you dip it in the sauce the better it will relish. But let not un- belief teach you such manners as to make you leave the best bits behind you. For your lib- erty is to eat freely of the best, of the fat, and of the sweet. LIII. Of the Goings Out of the Temple. As to the comings into the temple, of them we have spoken already — namely, of the outer and inner court, as also of the doors of the porch and temple. The coming in was but one strait course, and that a type of Jesus Christ, but the goings out were many. John x. 9; xiv. 6. Now, as I said, it is insinuated that the goings out are many, answerable to the many ways which the children of men have invented to apostatize in from God. Christ is the way into, but sin the way out of, the temple of God. True, I read not of a description of the goings out of his house as I read of the comings in. Only when they had Athaliah out thence, she is said to go out by the way by which horses come into the king’s stables, and there she was slain, as it were upon the horse dunghill. When Uzziah also went out of his house for his transgression, he was cast out of all society, and made to dwell in a kind of pest-house even to the day of his death. 2 Chron. xxvi. 20 , 21 . Thus, therefore, though these goings out are not particularly described, the judgments that followed them that have for their trans- gressions been thrust out thence have been both remarkable and tremendous; for to die upon a dunghill or in a pest-house, and that for wicked actions, is a shameful, a disgrace- ful thing. And God will still be spreading dung upon the faces of such; no greatness shall prevent it; “Yea, and will take them away with it. I will drive them out of my house,” says he; “ I will love them no more.” But what are we to understand in Gospel days by going out of the house of the Lord for or by sin ? I answer, If it be done voluntarily, then sin leads you out : if it be done by the holy compulsion of the Church, then it is done by the judicial judgment of God: that is, + hey are cut off and cast out from thence as a just reward for their transgressions. Well, but whither do they go that are thus gone out of the temple or Church of God? I answer, Not to the dunghill with Athaliah, nor to the pest-house with Uzziah, but to the devil; that is the first step, and so to hell, without repentance. But if their sin be not unpardonable, they may by repentance be re- covered and in mercy tread these courts again. Now the way to this recovery is to think seri- ously what they have done, or by what way they went out of the house of God. Hence the prophet is bid to show to the rebellious SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 307 house first the goings out of the house, and then the goings in. But, I say, first he bids show them the goings out thereof. Ezek. xliii. 10 , 11 . And this is of absolute necessity for the recovering of the sinner; for until he that has sinned himself out of God's house shall see what danger he has incurred to himself by this his wicked going out, he will not unfeign- fdly desire to come in thither again. There is another thing as to this point to be taken notice of. There is a way by which God also doth depart from this house, and that also by sin as the occasion. The sin of a man will thrust him out, and the sin of men will drive God out of his own house. Of this ydu read in Ezek. xi. 22, 23. For this he saith, “I have forsaken mine house, I have left mine heritage. I have given the dearly beloved of my soul into the hand of her enemies.” And this also is dreadful : the great sen- tence of Christ upon the Jews lay much in these words: “Your house is left unto you desolate;” that is, God has left you to bare walls and to lifeless traditions. Consider, therefore, of this going out also. Alas! a church, a true church, is but a poor thing if God leaves, if God forsakes it. By a true church I mean one that is congregated according to outward rule, that has sinned God away, as she had almost quite done that was of Laodicea. Rev. iii. He that sins himself out can find no good in the world; and they that have sinned God out can find no good in the Church. A church that has sinned God away from it is a sad lump indeed. You, therefore, that are in God’s Church take heed of sinning yourselves out thence ; also take heed that while you keep in you sin not God away, for henceforth no good is there. “ Yea, woe unto them when T depart from them,” saith God. LTV. Of the Singers belonging to the Temple. Having thus far passed through the temple, I come now to the singers there. The singers were many, but all of the Church, either Jews or proselytes; nor was there any, as I know of, under the Old Testament worship, admitted to sing the songs of the Church, and to cele- brate that part of worship with the saints, but they who, at least in appearance, were so. The songs of Moses, of Deborah, and of those who danced before David, with others that you read of, they were all performed, either by Jews by nature or by such as were proselyted to their religion. Ex. xv. 1. And such worship then was occasioned by God’s appearance for them against the power of the Gentiles, their enemies. But we arc confined to the songs of the tem- ple, a more distinct type of ours in the Church under the Gospel. 1. The singers then were many, but the chief of them in the days of David were — David himself, Asaph, Jeduthan, and Heman, and their sons. 2. In David’s time the chief of these singers were two hundred three score and eight. 1 Chron xxv. These singers of old were to sing their songs over the burnt-offering, which was a type of the sacrificed body of Christ; a memorial of which offering we have at the Lord’s table, the consummation of which Christ and his disci- ples celebrated with a hymn. Matt. xxvi. 30. And as of old they were the Church that did sing in the temple, according to institution, to God, so also they are by God’s appointment to be sung by the Church in the new. Hence, 1. They are said to be the redeemed that sing. 2. The songs that they sing are said to be the “songs of their redemption.” Rev. v. 9, 10. 3. They were and are songs that no man can sing but they. But let us run a little in the parallel : 1. They were of old appointed to sing that were cunning and skilful in songs. And an- swerable to that it is said that no man could learn our New Testament songs but the hun- dred and forty and four thousand which were redeemed from the earth. 2. These songs were sung with harps, psal- teries, cymbals, and trumpets — a type of our singing with spiritual joy from grace in our hearts. 1 Chron. xxv. 6. 3. The singers of old were to be clothed in fine linen, which fine linen was a type of in- nocency and an upright conversation. Hence the singers under the New Testament are said to be virgins, such in whose mouth was no guile, and that were without fault before the throne of God. 1 Chwm. xv. 27 and Rev. xiv. 1 - 6 . 4. The songs sung in the temple were new, or such as were compiled after the manner of repeated mercies that the Church of God has received or were to receive. And answerable to this is the Church to sing now new songs, with new hearts, for new mercies. 308 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. New songs, I say, are grounded on new mat- ter, new occasions, new mercies, new deliver- ances, new discoveries of God to the soul, or for new frames of heart ; and are such as are most taking, most pleasing, and most refresh- ing to the soul. 5. These songs of old, to distinguish them from heathenish ones, were called God’s songs, the Lord’s songs, because taught by him and learned of him, and enjoining them to he sung to his praise. Hence David said, “ God had put a new song into his mouth, even praises to our God.” 6. These songs also were called songs of Sion and the songs of the temple. Ps. cxxxvii. 3. And they are so called as they were theirs to sing there, I say, of them, of Zion and the wor- shippers of the temple — I say, to sing in the Church, by the Church, to him who is the God of the Church, for the mercies, benefits, and blessings which she has received from him. Sion songs, temple songs, must be sung by Sion’s sons and temple-worshippers. “The redeemed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads ; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Therefore they shall come and sing in the height or upon the mountains of Zion ; and shall flow together thither, to the goodness of the Lord. Break forth into singing, ye mountains, and let the inhabitants of the rock sing.” To sing to God is the highest worship we are capable of performing in heaven ; and it is much if sinners on earth, without grace, should be capable of performing it, according to his institution, acceptably. I pray God it be done by all those that now-a-days get into churches, in spirit and with understand- ing. LV. Of the Union of the Holy and Most Holy Temple. That commonly called the temple of God at Jerusalem, considered as standing of two parts, was called the outward and inward temple, or the holy and most holy place. They were built upon one and*the same foundation; neither could one go into the holiest hut as through the holy place. 1 Kings iii. 1. The first house — namely, that which we have been speaking of — was a type of the Church militant, and the place most holy a type of the Church triumphant — I say of the Church triumphant, as it is now. So, then, the house standing of these two parts was a shadow of the Church both in heaven and earth. And for that they are joined together by one and the same founda- tion, it was to show that they above and we be- low are yet one and the selfsame house of God. Hence they and -we together are called “ the whole family in heaven and earth.” And hence it is said again that we who be- lieve on earth “ are come to Mount Sion, to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusa- lem, and to an innumerable company of angels. To the general assembly and Church of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to the spirits of just men made perfect, and to God the judge of all, and to Jesus the media- tor of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel.” The difference, then, betwixt us and them is, not that we are really two, but one body in Christ in divers places. True we are below stairs, and they above ; they in their holiday, and we in our working-day clothes; they in harbour, but we in the storm ; they at rest, but we in the wilderness; they singing, as crowned with joy; we crying, as crowned with thorns. But I say, we are all of one house, one family, and are all the children of one Father. This therefore we must not forget, lest we debar ourselves of much of that which other- wise, while here, we have a right unto. Let us therefore, I say, remember, that the temple of God is but one, though divided, as one may say, into kitchen and hall, above and below, or holy and most holy place. For it stands upon the same foundation, and is called but one, the temple of God, which is built upon the Lord our Saviour. I told you before that none of old could go into the most holy but by the holy place, even by the veil that made the partition between. Ex. xxvi. 33. Wherefore, they are deceived that think to go into the holiest, which is in heaven, when they die, who yet abandon and hate the holy place while they live. Nay, sirs, the way into the holiest is through the holy place ; the way into heaven is through the Church on earth, for that Christ is there by his word to be received by faith before he can by us in person be received in the bea- tifical vision. The Church on earth is as the house of the women spoken of in the book of Esther, where we must be dieted, perfumed, and made fit to go into the Bridegroom’s SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 309 chamber, or, as Paul says, “made' meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in light.” Esth. iii; Col. i. 12. LVI. Of the Holiest or Inner Temple. The most holy place was, as I said, a figure of heaven itself, consequently a type of that where the most special presence of God is, and where his face is most clearly seen and the glances of his countenance most enjoyed. Hob. ix. 23, 24; Ex. xxv. 22; Num. vii. 89. The most holy place was dark : it had no windows in it, though there were such round the chambers; the more special presence of God too on Mount Sinai was in the thick dark- ness there. 1. This holiest therefore -being thus made, was to show that God, as in heaven, to us on earth is altogether invisible, and not to be reached otherwise than by faith. For I say in that this house had no windows, nothing therein could be seen by the highest light of this world. Things there were only seen by the light of the fire of the altar, which was a type of the shillings of the Holy Ghost. 1 Cor. ii. And lienee it is said, notwithstanding the darkness, “Hedwelleth in the light which no man can approach unto ; none but the high priest, Christ.” 1 Tim. vi. 10 ; 1 Pet. iii. 21 , 22 . 2. The holiest therefore was thus built to show how different our state in heaven will be from this our state on earth. We walk here by our light, by the light of a written word ; for that is now a light to our feet and a lantern to our path. But that place, where there will be no written word nor ordinances as here, will yet to us shine more light and clear than if all the lights that are in the world were put together to light one man: “For God is light, and in him is no darkness at all;” and in his light, and in the light of the Lamb immediately, we shall live and walk and rejoice all the days of eternity. 3. This also was ordained thus, to show that we, while in the first temple, should live by faith as to what there was or as to what was done in the second. Hence it is said as to that we walk by faith, not by sight. 2 Cor. v. 9. The things that are there we are told of, even of the ark of the testimony, and mercy- seat, and the cherubims of glory, and the presence of Christ and of God ; we are, I say, told of them by the word, and believe, and are taken therewith, and hope to go to them here- after ; but otherwise we see them not. There- fore we are said to “look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen ; for the things that are seen are tem- poral, but the things that are not seen are eternal.” 4. The people of old were not to look into the holiest, lest they died, (Num. xvii. 13,) save only their high priest, he might go into it; to show that we while here must have a care of vain speculations, for there is nothing to be seen by us, while here, in heaven, other- wise than by God’s eternal testament: true, we may now come to the holiest, cveu as nigh as the first temple will admit us to come, but it must be by blood and faith, not by vain im- agination, sense, or carnal reason. 5. This holiest of all was four square every way, both as to the height, length, and breadth. To be thus is a note of perfection, as I showed elsewhere; wherefore it w r as on purpose thus built to show us that all fulness of blessedness is there, both as to the nature, degree, and duration. “So when that which is perfect is come, that which is in part shall be done away.” LVII. Of the Veil of the Temple. The veil of the temple tvas a hanging made of “blue, and purple, and crimson, and white linen, and there were cherubims wrought thereon.” 1. This veil was one partition betwixt the holy and most holy place; and I take it it was to keep from the sight of the worshippers the things most holy when the high priest went in thither to accomplish the service of God. Ex. xxvi. 33. 2. The veil was a type of two things. 1. Of the visible heavens through which Christ passed when he went to make an inter- cession for us. And as by the veil the high priest went out of the sight of the people when he went into the holiest of all, so Jesus Christ, when he ascended, was by the heavens, that great and stretehed-out curtain, received out of the sight of his people here. Also by the same curtain, since it is become as a tent for him to dwell in, he is still received, and still kept out of our sight ; for now we see him not, nor shall until these heavens be rolled to- gether as a scroll and pass away like a thing rolled together. Isa. xl. 22. 3. This is that veil through which, the apos- tle saith, Jesus, as the forerunner for us, en- tered into the presence of God. For by the 310 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. veil here also must be meant the heavens or the outspread firmament thereof ; as both Mark and Peter say, “ He is gone into heaven, and is on the right hand of God.” 3. The veil of the temple was made of blue, the very colour of the heaven — of purple, and crimson, and scarlet also, which are the colour of many of the clouds, because of the reflec- tions of the sun. But again : 4. The veil was also a type of the body of Christ. For as the veil of the temple when whi le kept the view of things of the holiest from us, but when rent gave place to man to look into them, even so the body of Christ while whole kept the things of the holiest from that view we, since he was pierced, have of them. Hence we are said to enter into the holiest by faith through the veil — that is to say, his flesh. Heb. x. But yet, I say, all is by faith ; and indeed the rending of the veil that day that Christ was. crucified did loudly preach this to us. For no sooner was the body of Christ pierced but the veil of the temple rent in twain from the top to the bottom ; and so a way was made for a clearer sight of what was there beyond it, both in the type and antitype. Thus you see that the veil of the temple was a type of these visible heavens, and also of the body of Christ ; of the first, because he passed through it unto the Father ; of the second, be- cause we by it have boldness to come to the Father. I read also of two other veils, as of that spread over the face of Moses, to the end that the children of Israel should not steadfastly behold, and of the first veil of the tabernacle. But of these I shall not in this place speak. Upon the veil of the temple there were also the figures of cherubims wrought, that is, of angels ; to show, that as the angels are with us here, and wait upon us all the days of our pil- grimage in this world, so when we die they stand ready, even at the veil, at the door of these heavens, to come, when bid, to fetch us and carry us away into “ Abraham’s bosom.” Luke xvi. 22. The veil, then, thus understood, teaches us first where Jesus is — namely, not here, but gone into heaven, from whence we should wait for him. It also teaches us that if we would even now discern the glories that are in the holiest of all, we must look through Jesus to them, even through the veil — that is to say, “his flesh.” Yea, it teaches us that we may, by faith through him, attain to a kind of a pres- ence) at least, of the beauty and sweetness of them. LVIII. Of the Doors of the Inner Temple. 1. Besides the veil, there was a door to the inner temple, and that door was made of olive tree ; “ and for the entering in of the oracle, he made doors of olive tree. The two doors also of the olive tree, and he carved upon them cherubims, and palm trees, and flowers, and overlaid them with gold, and spread gold upon the cherubims and upon the palm tree.” 2. These doors were a type of the gate of heaven, even of that which lets into the eter- nal mansion-house that is beyond that veil. I told you before that the veil was a type of the visible heavens which God spread out as a cur- tain, and through which Christ went when he ascended to the right hand of the Father. 3. Now, beyond this veil, as I said, I find a door, a gate opening with tw r o leaves, as afore we found at the door of the outward temple. These are they which the Psalmist calls to when he saith, “ Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates, and be ye lift up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in.” 4. The doors of the temple -were made of fir, but these, as you see, were made of olive, to show us by that fat tree, that rich type, with what glory we shall meet who shall be counted worthy to enter at these gates. The olive tree lias its name from the oil and fatness of its na- ture, and the doors that let into the holiest were made of this olive tree. 5. Cherubims were also carved upon these doors, to show that as the angels met us at the temple door, aiid as they wait upon us in the temple, and stand also ready at the veil, so even at the gate of the mansion-house they will be also ready to give us a welcome thither, and to attend us into the presence-chamber. 6. Palm trees also, as they were carved upon the temple doors, so we also find them here be- fore the oracle, upon the doors that let in thither, to show that as Christ gave us the vic- tory at our first entering into faith, so he will finish that victory by giving of us eternal sal- vation. Thus he is the author and finisher of our faith. For as sure as at first we received the palm branch by faith, so surely shall we wear it in our hands, as a token of his faith- fulness in the heaven of heavens, for ever. Rev. vii. 9. 7. Open flowers are also carved here, to show that Christ, who is the door to glory as well as the door to grace, will be precious to us at our SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. entering in thither, ns well ns nt the first step we took thitherward in a sinful, miserable world. Christ will never lose his sweet scent in the nostrils of his Church. He is most sweet now, will be so at death, and sweetest of all when by him we shall enter into that man- sion-house prepared for us in heaven. 8. The palm tree and open flowers may also bo a type of the precious ones of God who shall be counted worthy of his kingdom — the one of the uprightness of their hearts, the other of the good savour of their lives. “The up- right shall dwell in thy presence; and to him that ordercth his conversation aright I will show the salvation of God.” Ps. cxl. 13. 9. Thus sweet in earth, sweet in heaven ; and he that yields the fruit of the Gospel here shall find it for himself and his eternal com- fort at. the gates of glory. 10. All these were overlaid with gold, as you may say, and so they were at the door of the first house. True, but observe here we have an addition. Here is gold upon gold. Gold laid on them, and then gold spread upon that. He overlaid them with gold, and then spread gold upon them. The Lord gives grace and glory. Ps. Ixxxiv. 11. Gold and gold. Gold spread upon gold. Grace is gold in the leaf, and glory is gold in plates. Grace is thin gold, glory is gold that is thick. Here is gold laid on, and gold spread on that, and that both upon the palm trees and the cherubims. Gold upon the palm trees — that is, on the saints ; gold upou the cherubims — that is, upon the angels. For, I doubt not but that the angels themselves shall receive additional glory for the service with which they have served Christ and his Church on earth. 11. The angels are God’s harvest-men, and doubtless he will give them good wages, even glory upon their glory then. Matt. xiii. 3S, 39; xxiv. 31 ; John iv. 36. 12. You know harvest-men used to be paid well for gathering in the corn, and I doubt not but so shall these when the great ingathering is over. But what an entrance into life is here ! Here is gold upon gold at the door, at our first step into the kingdom. LIX. Of the Golden Nails of the Inner Temple. I shall not concern myself with all the nails of the temple, as of those made with iron, &c., (1 Chron. xxii. 3,) but only with golden ones, of which you read, (2 Chron. iii. 4,) where he saith, “ And the weight of the nails was fifty shekels of gold.” These nails, as I conceive, .‘111 were all fastened to the place most holy, and of form most apt to that of which they were a figure. 1. Some of them represented Christ Jesus our Lord as fixed in his mediatory office in the heavens ; wherefore in one place, when the Holy Ghost speaks of Christ as he sprang from Judah to be a mediator, saith, “Out of him came the corner, (the corner-stone,) out of him the nails.” Now, since he is here compared to a nail, a golden nail, it is to show that as a nail, by driving, is fixed in his place, so Christ by God’s oath is made an everlasting priest. Heb. vii. 25. Therefore, as he saith again, the nail, the Aaron ical priesthood, that was fastened in a sure place, should be removed, be cut down, and fall, so he who has the key of David, which is Christ, (Rev. iii. 7,) shall by God, “as a nail fastened in a sure place, abide;” therefore he says again, “ And he shall be for a glorious throne or mercy-seat to his Father’s house.” And moreover, “ That they shall hang on him,” as on a nail, “ all the glory of his Father’s house, the offspring, and the issue, all vessels of small quantity, from the vessels of cups, even to the vessels of flagons ;” accord- ing to that which is written, “ And they sang a new song to the Lamb that was slain, saying, Thou art worthy,” &c. And therefore it is again that Christ, under the similitude of a nail, is accounted by saints indeed their great pledge or hope, as he is in heaven, of their coming thither. Hence they said of old, “ God has given us a nail in his holy place” — “a nail,” says the line; “a pin, a constant and sure abode,” says the margin. Now, this nail in his holy place, as was showed before, is Christ — Christ as possessed of heaven, and as abiding and ever living therein for us. Hence he is called, as there, our head, our life, and our salvation ; and also we are said there to be set down together in him. Eph. i. 23; Col. iii. 3; Eph. ii. 5, 6. 2. Some of these nails were types of the holy words of God, which for ever are settled in heaven. Types, I say, of their yea and amen. Hence Solomon, in another place, compares the words of the wise God, to “goads and nails fastened by the masters of the assemblies which are given from one shepherd.” They are called “goads,” because as such prick the oxen on in their drawing, so God’s words prick Christians on in their holy duties. They are called “nails” to show that as nails, when fastened well in a sure place, are not 312 JBUKYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. easily removed, so God’s words by bis will stand firm for ever. The masters of the assem- blies are, first, the apostles. The one Shepherd is Jesus Christ. Hence the Gospel of Christ is said to be everlasting, to abide for ever, and to be more steadfast than heaven and earth. The Lord Jesus then, and his holy words, are the golden nails of the temple, and the fixing of these nails in the temple was to show that Christ is the same 'to-day, yesterday, and for ever, and that his words abide and remain the same for ever and ever. He then that hath Christ hath a nail in the holiest : he that hath a promise of salvation hath also a nail in heaven, a golden nail in heaven. LX. Of the Floor and Walls of the Inner Temple. 1. The floor of the oracle was overlaid with cedar, and so also were the walls of this house. “He built twenty cubits on the sides of the house, both the floor and the walls with boards of cedar. He even built for it within, for the oracle, for the most holy place.” 2. In that he doth tell us with what it was ceiled, and doth also thus repeat, saying, “for the oracle, for it within, even for the most holy place,” it is because he woidd have it noted that this only is the place that thus was done. 3. Twenty cubits — that was the length, and breadth, and height of the house ; so that by his thus saying he teachetli that thus it was built round about. 4. The cedar is, if I mistake not, the highest of the trees. Ezek. xxxi. 3-8. Now in that it is said the house, the oracle, “was ceiled round about therewith,” it may be to show that in heaven, and nowhere else, is the height of all perfection. Perfection is in the Church on earth, but not such as is in heaven. 1. There is a natural perfection, and so a penny is as natural silver as is a shilling. 2. There is a comparative perfection, and so one thing may be perfect and imperfect at the same time, as a half crown is more than a shilling, yet less than a crown. 3. There is also that which we call the ut- most perfection, and that is it which cannot be added to or taken from him ; and so God only is perfect. Now heavenly glory is that which goes be- yond all perfection on the earth, as the cedar goes beyond all trees for height. Hence God, when he speaks of his own excellency, sets it forth by its height — the high God, the most High, and the high and lofty one, and the Highest. These terms also are ascribed to this house, for that it was the place where utmost perfec- tion dwelt. I take, therefore, the cedar in this place to be a note of perfection, even the cedar with which this house was ceiled. For since it is the wisdom of God to speak to us ofttimes by trees, gold, silver, stones, beasts, fowls, fishes, spiders, ants, frogs, flies, lice, dust, &c., and here by wood, how should we by them understand his voice if we count there is no meaning in them ? “ And the cedar of the house within was carved with knops and flowers.” All was cedar; there was no stone seen. 1 Kings ix. 18. Knops and flowers were they with which the golden candlestick was adorned, as you read in Ex. xxv. The candlestick was a type of the Church, and the knops and flowers a type of her orna- ments. But what! must heaven be hanged round about with the ornaments of saints, with the fruits of their graces? Well, it is certain that something more than ordinary must be done with them, since they are “admitted to follow them into the holy place,” and since it is said they shall have a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory be- stowed on them for them in the heavens. 2 Cor. iv. 16, 17. “ All was cedar; there was no stone seen.” Take stone in the type for that which was really so, and in the antitype for that which is so mystically, and then it may import to us that in heaven, the antitype of this holiest, there shall never be any thing of hardness of heart in them that possess it for ever. All imperfection ariseth from the badness of the heart, but there will be no bad hearts in glory. No shortness in knowledge, no crossness of dis- position, no workings of lusts or corruptions will be there — no, not throughout the whole heavens. Here, alas ! they are seen, and that in the best of saints, because here our light is mixed with darkness ; but there will be no night nor any stone seen. “ And the floor of the house was overlaid with gold.” 1 Kings vi. 30. This is like that of which we read of the New Jerusalem that is to come from God out of heaven — says the text, “ The street of the city was pure gold ” — and like that of which yon read in Exodus. “ They saw under the feet of the God of Israel SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 313 ns it were a paved work of sapphire stone, and as it were the body of the heaven in its clearness.” All the visions were rich, but this the richest, that the floor of the house should be covered or overlaid with gold. The floor and street are walking-places, and how rich will our steps be then! Alas! here we sometimes step into the mire, and then again stumble upon blocks and stones. Here we sometimes fall into the holes, and have our heel often catehed in a snare ; but there, there will be none of these I Gold! gold! all will be gold and golden perfections when we come into the holy placet Job at best took but his steps in butter, but we then shall take all our steps ‘in the gold of the sanctuary. LXI. Of the Ark of the Covenant which was placed in the Inner Temple. In the word I read of three arks: to wit, Noah’s ark, that in which Moses was hid, and the ark of the covenant of God. Gen. vi. 14; Ex. ii. 3, 5. But it is the ark of the covenant of which I shall now speak. “ The ark was made of sliittim wood ; two cubits and a half was the length thereof, and one cubit and a half the breadth thereof, and a cubit and a half the height thereof. It was overlaid with pure gold within and without, and a crown of gold was made for it round about.” 1. This ark was called “ the ark of the covenant,” as the first that you read of was called Noah’s, because as he in that was kept from being drowned, so the tables of the cove- nant were kept in this from breaking. 2. This ark in this was a type of Christ, for that in him only, and not in the hand of Moses, these tables were kept whole. Moses brake them, the ark keeps them. 3. Not only that wrote on two tables of stone, but that also called “ the ceremonial,” was put into the ark to be kept. The two tables were put into the midst of the ark to answer to this, Thy law is within my heart to do it. But the ceremonial was put into the sipe of the ark, to show that out of the side of Christ must come that which must answer that; for out thence came blood and water — blood, to answer the purifyings and rinsings of that law. The ceremonies therefore were lodged in the side of the ark, to show that they should be answered out of the side of Jesus Christ. Ex. xxv. 16, 17. 4. The ark had the name of God put upon it; yea, it was called “the strength of God and his glory,” though made of wood. And Christ is God both in name and nature, though made flesh ; “yea more, made to be sin for us.” 2 Sam. vii. 2. 5. The ark was carried upon men’s shoulders this way and that, to show how Christ should be carried and preached by his apostles and ministers into all parts of the world. Ex. xxv. 14. 6. The ark had these testimonies of God’s presence accompanying it, as had no other ceremony of the law; and Christ had those signs and tokens of his presenc’e with him, as never had man cither in Law or Gospel. This is so apparent it needs no proof. And now for a few comparisons more : 1. It was at that that God answered the people when they were wont to come to in- quire of him ; and in these last days God has spoken to us by his Son. 2. At the presence of the ark the waters of Jordan stood still till Israel, the ransomed of the Lord, passed over from the wilderness to Canaan ; and it is by the power and presence of Christ that we pass over death, Jordan’s antitype, from the wilderness of this world to heaven. 3. Before the ark the walls of Jericho fell down ; and at the presence of Christ shall all high towers, and strongholds, and hiding-places for sinners be razed and dissolved at liis com- ing. Isa. vi. 20. 4. Before the ark Dagon fell, that idol of the Philistines; and before Christ Jesus devils fell, those gods of all those idols. And he must reign till all his enemies be put under his feet, and until they be made his footstool. 1 Sam. v. 1-4. 5. The Philistines were also plagued for meddling with the ark while they abode un- circumcised; and the wicked will one day be most severely plagued for their meddling with Christ with their uncircumcised hearts. 1 Sam. v. 6-13. 6. God’s blessing was upon those that enter- tained the ark as they should ; and much more is and will his blessing be upon those that so embrace and entertain his Christ and profess his name sincerely. 2 Sam. vi. 11. 7. When Uzza put forth his hand to stay the ark when the oxen shook it, as despairing of God’s protection of it without a human help, he died before the Lord; even so will all those do (without repentance) who use unlawful 314 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. means to promote Christ’s religion and to sup- port it in the world. 1 Chron. xiii. 9, 10. 8. The ark, though thus dignified, was of itself but low — but a cubit and a half high: also Christ, though he was the glory of heaven and of God, yet made himself of no reputa- tion and was found in the likeness of a man. 9. The ark had a crown of gold round about upon it, to show how Christ is crowned by his saints by faith, and shall be crowned by them in glory, for all the good he hath done for them; as also how all crowns shall one day stoop to him and be set upon his head. This is showed in the type (Zech. vi. 11, 14) and in the antitype. Rev. iv. 10. 10. The ark was overlaid with gold within and without, to show that Christ was perfect in inward grace and outward life, in spirit and righteousness. John i. 11. The ark was placed under the mercy- seat, to show that Jesus Christ, as Redeemer, brings and bears, as it were upon his shoulders, the mercy of God to men, even “in the body of his flesh, through death.” 12. When the ark was removed far from the people the godly went mourning after it; and when Christ is hid or taken from us, “then we mourn in those days.” 13. All Israel had the ark again after their mourning time was over; and Christ, after his people have sorrowed for him a while, will see them again, “and their hearts shall rejoice.” By all these things, and many more that might be mentioned, it is most evident that the ark of the testimony was a type of Jesus Christ; and take notice a little of that which follows, namely, that the ark at last arrived at the place most holy. Heb. ix. 3, 4. That is, after its wanderings ; for the ark was first made to wander like a non-inhabitant from place to place; now hither, and then thither; now in the hands of enemies, and then abused by friends; yea, it was caused to rove from place to place, as that of which the world was weary. I need instance to you, for proof, none other place than the 5th, 6th, and 7th chapters of the first book of Samuel; and, answerable to this, was our dear Lord Jesus posted backwards and forwards hither and thither, by the force of the rage of his ene- mies. 1. He was hunted into Egypt so soon as he was born. Matt. ii. 2. Then he was driven to live in Galilee fhe 6pace of many years. 3. Also, when he showed himself to Israel, they drove him sometimes into the wilderness, sometimes into the desert, sometimes into the sea, and sometimes into the mountains; and still in every one of these places he was either haunted or hunted by new enemies. And, last of all, the Pharisees plot for his life; Judas sells him, the priests buy him, Peter denies him, his enemies mock, scourge, buffet, and much abuse him. In fine, they get him condemned, and crucified, and buried; but, at last, God commanded and took him to his place, even within the veil, and sets him to bear up the mercy-seat, where he is to this very day; being our ark to save us, as Noah’s did him, as Moses’ did him; yea, better, as none but Christ doth save his own. LXII. Of the placing of the ArJc in the Holiest or ’ „ Inner Temple. 1. The ark, as we have said, and as the. text declares, when carried to its rest, was placed in the inner temple, or in the most holy place, even under the “wings of the cherubims.” “And the priests brought in the ark of the covenant of the Lord unto his place, to the oracle of the house, unto the most holy place, even under the wing of the cherubims.” 2. Before this, as was said afore, the ark was carried from place to place, and caused to dwell in a tent under curtains, as all our fathers did; to show that Christ, as we, was made for a time to wander in the world, in order to his being possessed of glory. 3. But now, when the ark was brought into the holiest, it is said to be brought into its place. This world, then, was not Christ’s place; he was not from beneath, he came from his Father’s house; wherefore while here he was not at his place, nor could be until he as- cended up where he was before. John viii. 23. 4. Christ’s proper place, therefore, is the holiest — his proper place as God, as Priest, as Prophet, as King, and as the Advocate of his people. Here, with us, he has no more to do, in person, as mediator. If he were on earth he should not be a priest, &c. His place and work is now above with his Father and before the angels. 5. It is said the ark was brought to the oracle of the house; Solomon was content to say it was brought into the holiest; but he saith his place was the oracle, the holy oracle — that is, the place of hearing: for he, when he ascended, had somewhat to say to God on the behalf of his people. To the oracle— that is, to the place of revealing; for he also was SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. there to receive, and from thence to reveal to his Church on earth, something that could not be made manifest but from this holy oracle. There, therefore, be is with the two tables of testimony in his heart, as perfectly kept; he also is there with the whole fulfilling of the ceremonial law in his side, showing and plead- ing the perfection of his righteousness and the merit of his blood with his Father; and to re- ceive and to do us good, who believe in him, how well phased the Father is with what he has done in our behalf. 6. “ Into the most holy place.” By these words is showed whither also the ark went when it went to take up its rest. And in that this ark was a type of Christ in this, it is to show or further manifest that what Christ doth now in heaven, he doth it before his Father’s face. Yea, it intimates that Christ even there makes his appeals to God concerning the worth of what he did on earth — to God the Judge of all : I say, whether he ought not, for his suffering’s sake, to have granted to him his whole desire as Priest and Advocate for his people. “ Wilt thou,” said Festus to Paul, “ go up to Jerusalem, and there be judged of these things before me?” Why, this our blessed Jesus was willing, when here, to go up to Jerusalem to be judged; and being misjudged there, he made his appeal to God; and is now gone thither, even into the holy place, even to him that is judge of all, for his verdict upon his doing, and whether the souls for whom he be- came undertaker, to bring them to glory, have not by him a right to the kingdom of heaven. 7. '‘Under the wings of the cherubims.” This doth further confirm our words; for, having appealed from earth to heaven, as the ark was set under the wings of the cherubims, so he, in his interceding with God and pleading his merits for us, doth it in the presence and hearing of all the angels in heaven. And thus much of the ark of the covenant aud of its antitype. We come next to speak of the mercy-seat. LXIII. Of the Mercy-Seat , and how it teas placed in the Holy Temple. , The mercy-seat was made in the wilderness, but brought up by Solomon after the temple was built, with the rest of the holy things. 2 Chron. v. 2-10. The mercy-seat, as I have showed of the ark, was but low : “ Two cubits and a half was the length, and a cubit and a half the breadth 315 thereof;” but the height thereof “was without measure.” 1. The length and breadth of the mercy-seat is the same with that of the ark, perhaps to show us that the length and breadth of the mercy of God to his elect is the same with the length and breadth of the merits of Christ. Ex. xxv. 10, 17. Therefore, we are said to be justified in him, blessed in him, even according to the purpose which God purposed in him. 2. But in that the mercy-seat is without measure as to the height, it is to show that would God extend it, it is able to reach even them that fall from heaven, and to save all that ever lived on earth, even all that are now in hell. For there is not only bread enough for them that shall be saved, but bread enough and to spare. Luke xv. 17. “ And thou shalt,” says God, “ put the merey- seat above upon the ark.” Thus he said to Moses, and this was the place which David as- signed for it. Now, its being by God’s ordinance placed thus, doth teach us many things: 1. That mercy’s foundation to us is Christ. The mercy-seat was set upon the ark of the testimony, and there it rested to us-ward. Justice would not, could not, have suffered us to have had any benefit by mercy had it not found an ark, a Christ, to rest upon. “ Deliver them,” saith God, “ from going down into the pit: I have found a ransom.” 2. In that it was placed above it doth show also that Christ was of mercies ordaining a fruit of mercy. Mercy is above, is the ordain- er ; God is love, and sent of love his Son to be the Saviour and propitiation for our sins. John iii. 16 ; 1 John iv. 10. 3. In that the mercy-seat and ark were thus joined together, it also shows that without Christ mercy doth not act. Hence, when the priest came of old to God for mercy, he did use to come into the holy place with blood; yea, and did use to sprinkle it upon the merev- seat, and before it, seven times. Take away the ark, and the mercy-seat will fall, or come greatly down at least; so take away Christ, and the floodgate of mercy is let down and the current of mercy stopt. This is true; for so soon as Christ shall leave off to mediate will come the eternal judgment. 4. Again, in that the mercy-seat was set above upon the ark, it teacheth us to know that mercy can look down from heaven, though the law stand by and looks on ; but then it must 316 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. be in Christ, as kept there and fulfilled by him for us. The law out of Christ is terrible as a lion ; the law in him is meek as a lamb. The reason is for that it finds in him enough to an- swer for all their faults that come to God for mercy by him. “ Christ is the end of the law for righteousness and if that be true, the law for that can look no further, whoever comes to God by him. The law did use to sentence terribly, until it was put into the ark to be kept ; but after it was said, “ It is there to be kept,” we read not of it as afore. 5. Let them then that come to God for mercy be sure to come to him by the ark, Christ. For grace, as it descends to us from above the mercy-seat, so that mercy-seat doth rest upon the ark. Wherefore, sinner, come thou for mercy that way, for there, if thou meetest with the law, it can do thee no harm ; nor can mercy, shouldst thou elsewhere meet it, do thee good. Come, therefore, and come boldly to the throne of grace, this mercy-seat, thus borne up by the ark, and “ obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need.” Wherefore, the thus placing of things in the holiest is admirable to behold in the word of God ; for that indeed is the glass by and through which we must behold this glory of the Lord. Here we see the reason of things ; here we see how a just God can have to do, and that in a way of mercy, with one that has sinned against him : it is because the law has been kept by the Lord Jesus Christ; for, as you see, the mercy-seat stands upon the ark of the cove- nant, and there God acts in a way of grace to- wards us. LXIV. Of the Living Waters of the Inner Temple. Although, in the holy relation of the build- ing of the temple, no mention is made of these waters, but only of the mount on which, and of the materials with which, the king did build it, yet it seems to me that in that mount, and there too where the temple was built, there was a spring of living water. This seems more than probable by Ezek. xlvii. 1, where he saith, “ Fie brought me to the door of the house, and behold waters issued out from under the threshold of the house eastward ; for the fore-front of the house stood toward the east, and the waters came down from under, from the right side of the house, at the south side of the altar.” So again Joel iii. 18 : “ And a fountain shall come forth of the house of the Lord, and shall water the valley of Shittim.” Nor was the spring, wherever was the first appearance of these holy waters, but in the sanctuary, which is the holiest of all, (Ezek. xlvii. 12,) where the mercy-seat stood, which in Revelations is called “ The throne of God and of the Lamb.” Ch. xxii. 1, 2. This also is that which the prophet Zech- ariah means when he says, “ Living waters shall go forth from Jerusalem, half of them toward the former sea, and half of them toward the hinder sea,” &c. They are said to go forth from Jerusalem, because they came down to the city from out of the sanctuary, which stood in Jerusalem. This is that which, in another place, is called a river of water of life, because it comes forth from the throne, and because it was at the head of it, as I supposed, used in and about temple worship. It was with this, I think, that the molten sea and the ten lavers were filled, and in which the priests washed their hands and feet when they went into the temple to do service ; and that also in which they washed the sacrifices before they offered them to God ; yea, I presume all the washings and rinsings about their worship was with this water, This water is said, in Ezekiel and Revela- tions, to have the tree of life grow on the banks of it, (Ezek. xlvii. ; Rev. xxii.,) and was a type of the Word and Spirit of God, by which both Christ himself sanctified himself in order to his worship as high priest; and also this water is that which heals all those that shall be saved, and by which, they being sanctified thereby also, do all their works of worship and service acceptably, through Jesus Christ our Lord. This water, therefore, is said to go forth into the sea, the world, and to heal its fish, the sin- ners, therein ; yea, this is that water of which Christ Jesus our Lord saith, “ Whosoever shall drink thereof shall live for ever.” LXV. Of the Chains which were in the Oracle or Inner Temple. As there were chains on the pillars that stood before the porch of the temple and in the first house, so like unto them there were chains in the holiest, here called the oracle. These chains were not chains in show, or as carved on wood, &c., but chains indeed, and that of gold ; and they were prepared to make a partition “ before the oracle within.” 1 Kings vi. 21 ; 2 Chron. iii. 16. SOLOMON’S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 317 I told you before that the holiest was called the oracle ; not because, in a strict sense, the whole of it was so, but because such answer of God was there as was not in the outward tem- ple ; but I think that the ark and mercy -seat was, indeed, more especially that called the oracle; “ for there will I meet with thee,” saith God, “and from above that will I commune with thee.” When David said, “ I lift my hands towards thy holy oracle,” he meant not bo much towards the holiest house as towards the mercy-scat that was therein. Or, as he saith in the margin, “Toward the oracle of thy sanctuary.” 1. When, therefore, he saith “before the or- acle,” he means these chains were put in the most holy place, before the ark and mercy-seat, to give Aaron and his sons to understand that an additional glory was there ; for the ark and mercy-seat were preferred before that holy house itself, even as Christ and the grace of God is preferred before the highest heavens. “ The Lord is high above all nations, and his glory is above the heavens.” So, then, the partition that was made in this house by these chains, these golden chains, was not so much to divide the holy from the place most holy, as to show that there is in the holiest house that which is yet more worthy than it. The holiest was a type of heaven, but the ark and mercy-seat were a type of Christ, and of the mercy of God to us by him ; and I trow any man will conclude, if he knows what he says, that the God and Christ of heaven are more excellent than the hou«e they dwell in. Hence David said again, “ Whom have I in heaven but thee?” For thou art more excel- lent than they. For though that which is called heaven would serve some, yet, though God himself was out of it, yet none but the God of heaven will satisfy a truly gracious man: it is God that the soul of this man thirsteth for; it is God that is his exceeding joy. These chains, then, as they made the parti- tion in the most holy place, may teach us that when we shall be glorified in heaven we shall yet, even then and there, know that there will continue an infinite disproportion between God and us. The golden chains that are there will then distinguish the Creator from the creature. For we, even we which shall be saved, shall yet retain our own nature, and shall still con- tinue finite beings ; yea, and shall there also see a disproportion between our Lord, our head, and us ; for though now we are, and also then shall be, like him as to his manhood, yea, and shall be like him also as being glorified with his glory, yet he shall transcend, and go beyond us, as to degree and splendour, as far as ever the highest king on earth did shine above the meanest subject that dwelt in his kingdom. Chains have of old been made use of as notes of distinction, to show us who are bond- men and who free; yea, they shall at the day of judgment be a note of distinction of bad and good, even as here they will distinguish the heavens from God, and the creature from the Creator. 2 Pet. ii. 4; Jude G. True, those are chains of sin and wrath, but these chains of gold; yet these chains, even these chains also, will keep creatures in their place, that the Creator may have his glory, and receive those acknowledgments there from them which is due unto his majesty. Rev. iv. ; v. 11-15. LX VI. Of the High Priest, and of his Office in the Inner Temple. When things were thus ordained in the house most holy, then went the high priest in thither, according as he was appointed to do his office, which was to burn incense in his golden censer, and to sprinkle with his finger the blood of his sacrifice for the people upon and above the mercy-seat. Ex. xxx. 7, 10. Now for this special work of his he had pe- culiar preparations: 1. He was to be washed in water. 2. Then he was to put on his holy garments. 3. After that he was to be anointed with holy oil. 4. Then an offering was to be offered for him, for the further fitting of him for his office. 5. The blood of this sacrifice must be put, some of it upon his right ear, some on the thumb of his right hand, and some on the I great toe of his right foot. This done, some more of the blood, with the anointing oil, must be sprinkled upon him and upon his garment, for after this manner must he be consecrated to his work as high priest. Ex. xxix. His being washed in water was to show the purity of Christ’s humanity. His curious robes were a type of all the per- fections of Christ’s righteousness. The holy oil that was poured on his head was to show how T Christ was anointed with the Holy Ghost unto his work as priest. 318 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. The sacrifice of his consecration was a type of that offering Christ offered in the garden, when he mixed his sweat with his own blood, and tears, and cries — when “ he prayed to Him that was able to save him, and was heard in that he feared;” for with his blood, as was Aaron with the blood of the bullock that was slain for him, was this blessed one besmeared from head to foot, when his sweat, as great drops or dodders of blood, fell down from head, and face, and whole body to the ground. Luke xxii. 44 ; Heb. x. 20. When Aaron was thus prepared, then he offered his offering for the people and carried the blood within the veil. Lev. xvi. The which ' Christ Jesus also answered when he offered his own body without the gate, and then carried his blood into the heavens and sprinkled it before the mercy-seat. Heb. xiii. 11, 12. For Aaron was a type of Christ; his offering a type of Christ’s offering his body ; the blood of the sacrifice, a type of the blood of Christ ; his garments, a type of Christ’s righteousness ; the mercy-seat, a type of the throne of grace ; the incense, a type of Christ’s praise; and the sprinkling of the blood of the sacrifice upon the mercy-seat, a type of Christ’s pleading the virtue of his sufferings for us in the presence of God in heaven. “ Wherefore, holy brethren, partakers of the heavenly calling, consider the apostle and high priest of our profession, Christ Jesus; and seeing we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession ; for we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us, therefore, come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sin ; who can have compassion on the ignorant and on them that are out of the way, for that he himself also is compassed with infirmity. “This then is our high priest ; and he was made so, not after the law of a carnal com- mandment, but after the power of an endless life : for Aaron and his sons were made priests without an oath, but this with an oath by Him that said unto him, The Lord sware and will not repent: thou art a priest for ever after the order of Melchisedec. “ By so much was Jesus made the surety of a better testament ; and they truly were many priests, because they were not suffered to con- tinue by reason of death, but this man, be- cause he continueth ever, hath an unchangeable priesthood. Wherefore he is able to save them to the uttermost that come to God by him, seeing he ever liveth to make intercession for them. “For such an high priest became us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sin- ners, and made higher than the heavens; who needeth not daily, as those high priests, to offer up sacrifice, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people; for this he did once when he offered up himself. For the -aw maketh men high priests which have infirm- ities ; but the word of an oath, which was since the law, maketh the Son, who is consecrated for evermore. “Now of the things which we have spoken this is the sum : We have such an high priest who is set down on the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in the heavens ; a minis- ter of the sanctuary and of the new tabernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man. For every high priest is ordained to offer sacrifices ; wherefore it is of necessity that this man have somewhat also to offer. For if he were on earth, he should not be an high priest; seeing that there are priests that offer gifts according to the law, who serve unto the example and shadow of heavenly things, as Moses was ad- monished when he was about to make the tabernacle : for, See, saith he, that thou make all things according to the pattern showed thee in the mount. “But Christ being an high priest of good things to come by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, that is to say, not of this building, neither by the blood of bulls and calves, but by his own blood, he entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemp- tion for us. For if the blood of goats, bulls, and ashes of an heifer sprinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge your consciences from dead works to serve the living God? “ For Christ is not entered into the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true ; but into heaven itself, now to ap- pear in the presence of God for us. Nor yet that he should offer himself often, as the high priest entered into the holiest every year with the blood of others, for then must he often SOLOMON'S TEMPLE SPIRITUALIZED. 31 D have suffered since the foundation of the world; but now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacri- fice of himself. And as it is appointed to men once to die and after this the judgment, so Christ was once offered to hear the sins of many. And to them that look for him shall he appear the secoud time without sin unto salvation.” LXVir. Of the High Priest’s going into the Holiest alone. As it was the privilege of the high priest to go into the holiest alone, so there was some- thing of mystery also, to which I shall speak a little: “There shall,” saith God, “be no man in the tabernacle of the congregation when Aaron goeth in to make an atonement in the holy place, until he comes out and have made an atonement for himself, and for his household, and for all the congregation of Israel.” The reason is, for that Christ is mediator alone; he trod the wine-press alone; and of the people there was none with him to help him there. Isa. lxiii. ; 1 Tim. ii. 5. Of the people there was none to help him to hear his cross, or in the management of the first part of his priestly office; why then should there be any share with him in his executing of the second part thereof? Be- sides, he that helps an intercessor must him- self be innocent, or in favour upon some grounds not depending on the worth of the intercessor. But as to the intercession of Christ, who can come in to help upon the account of such innocency or worth ? Not the highest angel, for there is none such but one, wherefore he must do that alone. Hence it is said he went in alone, is there alone, and there intercedes alone. And this is manifest not only in the type Aaron, but in the antitype Christ Jesus. I do not say there is no man in heaven but Jesus Christ, but I say he is there to' make in- tercession for us alone. Yea, the holy text says more. “ I go,” saith Christ, “ to prepare a place for you ; and if I- go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am, there ye may be also.” This text seems to insinuate that Christ is in the holiest or highest heavens alone; and that he there alone must be until he has finished his work of intercession ; for not till then he comes again to take us to himself. Let us grant Christ the pre-eminence in this, as also in all other things, for he is inter- cessor for his Church, and makes it for them in the holiest alone. ’Tis said he is the light that no man can approach unto. LX VI II. Of the High Priest going in thither but Once a Year. As the high priest went into the holiest, when he went in thither, alone, so to do that work he w r ent in thither but once a year. “ Thou shalt not come at all times,” saith Gtd to him, “into the holy place within the veil, before the mercy-seat, which is upon the ark, that thou die not.” And as he was to go in thither but once a year, so not then, neither, unless clothed and adorned with his Aaronical holy robes. Then he was to be clothed, as I hinted before, with the holy robes, the frontlet of gold upon his forehead, the names of the twelve tribes upon his breast, and the jingling bells upon the skirts of his garment; nor w r ould all this do unless he went in thither with blood. Ex. xxviii.; Lev. xvi. Now, this once a year the apostle taketh special notice of and makes great use of it. “ Once a year,” saith he, “ this high priest went in thither ; once a year — that is, to show that Christ should once in the end of the w r orld go into heaven itself to make interces- sion there for us. For by this word “year” he shows the term and time of the world is meant; and by “once” in that year he means once in the end of the world. “ Not,” saith he, “ that he should offer him- self often, as the high priest entered into the holy place every year with the blood of others; for then must he often have suf- fered since the foundation of the world. But now r once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” And having thus once offered his sacrifice without the veil, he is now gone into the holiest to perfect his work of mediation for us; not in the holy places made with hands, which are the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us. Now t , if our Lord Jesus is gone indeed now to appear in the presence of God for us, and if this now be the once a year that the type speaks of, the once in the end of the world, as our apostle says, then it follows that the people of God should all stand waiting for his bene- 320 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. diction, that to them he shall bring with him when he shall return from thence. Where- fore he adds, “ Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many, and to them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation.” This therefore shows us the greatness of the work that Christ has to do at the right hand of God, for that he stays there so long. He accomplished all the first part of his priest- hood in less than forty years, if you take in the making of his holy garments and all ; but about this second part thereof he has been above in heaven above sixteen hundred years, and yet has not done. This therefore calls for faith and patience in saints, and by this he also tries the world ; so that they, in mocking manner, begin to say already, “ Where is the promise of his com- ing ?” But I say again, ‘‘We must look and wait.” If the people waited for Zecharias, and wondered that he stayed so long, because he stayed in the holy place somewhat longer than they expected, no marvel if the faith of the world about Christ’s coming is fled and gone long ago, yea, and that the children also are put to wait, since a Scripture “little while” doth prove so long. For that which the apos- tle saith, “ yet a little while,” doth prove to some to be a very long while. True, Zecharias had then to do with angels, and that made him stay so long. Oh, but Je- sus is with God, before him, in his presence, talking with him, swallowed up in him and with his glory, and that is one cause he stays so long. He is there also pleading his blood for his tempted ones, and interceding for all his elect, and waits there till all his be fitted for and ready to enter into glory. I say he is there, and there must be till then ; and this is another reason why he doth stay the time we count so long. And indeed it is a wonder to me that Jesus Christ our Lord should once think, now he is there, of returning hither again, considering the ill-treatment he met with here before. But what will not love do? Surely he would never touch the ground again had he not a people here that cannot be made perfect but by his coming to them. He also is made judge of quick and dead, and will get him glory in the ruin of them that hate him. His people are as himself to him. Can a loving husband abide to be always from a be- loved spouse ? Besides, as -I said, he is to pay the wicked off for all their wickedness, and that in that very plat where they have com- mitted it. Wherefore the day appointed for this is set, and he will and shall come quickly to do it. For however the time may seem long to us, yet, according to the reckoning of God, it is but a little while since he went into the holiest to intercede. “A thousand years with the Lord is but as one day ;” and after this man- ner of counting he has not been gone yet full two days into the holiest. “ The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; he will come quickly, and will not tarry.” LXIX. Of the Cherubinis, and of their being placed over the Mercy-seat- in the Inner Tem- ple. There were also cherubims in the most holy place, which were set on high above the mercy- seat. See 1 Kings vi. 1. These are called by the apostles “the cherubims of glory, covering the mercy-seat.” Heb. ix. 5. 2. These cherubims were figures of the angels of God, as in other places we have proved. 3. It is said these cherubims were made of image-work, and that in such a manner as that they could, as some think, move their wings by art, wherefore it is said they stretched forth their wings ; the wings of the “ cherubims spread themselves;” and that the “ cherubims spread forth their wings over the place of the ark, and the staves thereof above.” 4. I read also of these cherubims that they had chariots and wheels, by which is taught us horv ready and willing the angels are to fetch us when commanded unto the paradise of God ; for these chariots were types of the bosoms of the angels, and these wheels of the quickness of their motion to come for us when sent. “The chariots of God are twenty thousand, even thousands of angels ; the Lord is among them, as in Sinai, in the holy place.” 1 Chron. xx. 48 ; Ezek. xvi. 9. 5. What difference, if any there is, between cherubims and seraphims, into that I shall now inquire, though I believe that there are diverse orders and degrees of angels in the heavens, as there are degrees and diverse orders among men in the world. But that these cherubims were figures of the holy angels their being thus placed in the holy oracle doth declare; for their dwelling-place is in heaven, though SOLOMON’S TEMPL they, for our salces, nro conversant in the world. Ilob. i. (5. It is said that these chcrubims in this holy place did stand upon their feet, to show — 1. That the angels of heaven are not fallen from their station, as the other angels are. 2. To show also that they are always ready, at God’s bidding, to run with swiftness to do his pleasure. 3. To show also that they shall continue in their station, being therein confirmed by Jesus Christ, “ by whom all things exist.” 7. It is said their (aces were inward, looking one to another, yet withal somewhat ascend- ing, to show that the angels both behold and wonder at the mysteries of grace as it is dis- played to us-ward from off the mercy-seat. “The laces of the chcrubims shall look one to another; toward the mercy -seat shall the faces of the cherubims be.” 1. “Towards the mercy-seat.” They are desirous to see it, and how from hence, I say, mercy doth look towards us. 2. “They look one towards another,” to show that they agree to rejoice in the salva- tion of our souls. Luke xx. 10. 3. They are said to stand above the mercy- scat, perhaps to show that the angels have not need of those acts of mercy and forgiveness as we have, who stand below and are sinners. They stand above it — they are holy. I do not say they have no need that the goodness of God should be extended to them, for it is by that they have been and are preserved ; but they need not to be forgiven, for they have committed no iniquity. 4. They stand there also with wings stretched out, to show how ready, if need be, the angels are to come from heaven to preach this Gos- pel to the world. Luke ii. 9-14. 5. It is said in this that, thus standing, their wings did reach from wall to wall, from one side of this holy house to the other, to show that all the angels within the boundaries of the heavens, with one consent and one mind, are ready to come down to help, and serve, and do for God’s elect at his command. It is said also that their wings are stretched out on high, to show that they are only delighted in those duties which are enjoined them by the high and lofty One, and not inclined, no not to serve the saints in their sensual or fleshly designs. It may be also to show that they are willing to take their flight from one end of heaven to the other, to serve God and his Church for good. Matt. xiii. 48, 49 ; xxiv. 31. 21 E SPIRITUALIZED. 321 LXX. Of the Figures that were upon the Walls of the Inner Temple. The wall of the inner temple, which was a type of heaven, was, as I have already told you, ceiled with cedar from the bottom to the top. Now by the vision of Ezekiel it is said this wall was carved with cherubims and palm trees. “So that a palm tree was between a cherub, and every cherub had two faces ; so that the face of a man was toward the palm tree on the one side, and the face of a young lion toward the palm tree on the other side. It was made through all the house round about: from the ground to above the door were the cherubims and the palm trees made.” 1. As to these cherubims and palm trees, I have already told you what I think them to be figures of. The chcrubims are figures of the holy angels and the palm trees of upright ones : we therefore here are to discourse only of the placing of them in the heavens. 2. Now you see the palm trees in the holiest are placed between a cherub and a cherub, round about the house, which methinks should be to signify that the saints shall not there live by faith and hope, as here, but in the imme- diate enjoyment of God ; for to be placed be- tween the cherubims is to be placed where God dwells, for holy writ says plainly, He dwells between the cherubims, even where, here it is said, these palm trees or upright ones are placed. The Church on earth is called God’s house, and he will dwell in it for ever ; and heaven itself is called God’s house, and we shall dwell in it for ever, and that between the cherubims. This is more than grace: this is grace and glory, glory indeed. 3. To dwell between the cherubims may also be to show that there we shall be equal to the angels. Mark, here is a palm tree and a cherub, a palm tree and a cherub. Here we are a little lower, but there we shall not be a whit behind the very chief of them. A palm tree and a cherub, an upright one between the cherubs, will then be round about the house ; we shall be placed in the same rank ; “ neither can they die any more, for they are equal to the angels.” 4. The palm trees thus placed may be also to show us that the elect of God shall there take up the vacancies of the fallen angels ; they for sin were east down from the holy heavens, and we by grace shall be caught up thither, and be placed between a cherub and a cherub. When I say their places, I do not 322 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. mean the fickleness of that state that they for want of electing love did stand in while in glory ; for the heavens by the blood of Christ are now to us become a purchased possession ; wherefore, as we shall have redeeming blood, we shall there abide, and go no more out, for by that means that kingdom will stand to us unshaken. 5. These palm trees, I say, seem to take their places who for sin were cast from thence. The elect therefore take that place in possession, but a better crown for ever. Thus “ Israel pos- sessed that of the Canaanites,” and David, Saul’s kingdom, and Matthias the apostleship of Judas. Acts i. 22-26. 6. Nor were the habitations which the fallen angels lost, excepting that which was excepted before, at all inferior to theirs that stood ; for their captain and prince is called son of the morning, for he was the antitype thereof. Isa. xiv. 12. 7. Thus you see they were placed from the ground up to above the door ; that is, from the lowest to the highest angel there ; for as there are great saints and small ones in the Church on earth, so there are angels of divers degrees in heaven, some greater than some; but the smallest saint, when he gets to heaven, shall have an angel’s dignity, an angel’s place ; from the ground you shall find a palm tree between a cherub and a cherub. 8. And every cherub had two faces ; so here, but I read in chapter x. that they had four faces apiece : the first was the face of a cheru- bim, the second the face of a man, the third the face of a lion, and the fourth the face of an eagle. 9. They had two faces apiece ; not to show that they were of a double heart, “for their appearance and themselves was the same, and they went every one straight forward.” These two faces, then, were to show here the quickness of their apprehension and their ter- ribleness to execute the mind of God. The face of a man signifies them masters of reason , the face of a lion, “the terribleness of their presence.” In another place I read of their wheels ; yea, that themselves, their whole bodies, their backs, their hands, their wings, and their wheels “ were full of eyes round about.” And this is to show us how knowing and quicksighted they are in all providences and dark dispensations, and how nimble in appre- hending the mischievous designs of the ene- mies of God’s Church, and so how able they are to undermine them. And forasmuch also as they have the face of a lion, we by that are showed how full of power they are to kill and to destroy when God says, Go forth and do so. Now with these we must dwell and cohabit, a palm tree and a cherub : a palm tree and a cherub must be from the ground to above the door, round about the house, the heavens. “ So that the face of a man was toward the palm tree on the one side, and the face of a young lion toward the palm tree on the other side.” By these two faces may also be showed that we in the heavens shall have glory sufficient to familiarize us to the angels. Their lion- like looks, with which they used to fright the biggest saint on earth, as you have it, (Gen. xxxii. 30; Judg. xiii. 15, 22,) shall then be accompanied with the familiar looks of a man. Then angels and men shall be fellows, and have to do with each as such. Thus you see something of that little I have found in the temple of God. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED; OR, GOOD NEWS FOR THE VILEST OF MEN. BEING AN HELP FOR DESPAIRING SOULS: SHOWING THAT JESUS CHRIST WOULD HAVE MERCY IN THE FIRST PLACE OFFERED TO THE BIGGEST SINNERS. TO WHICH IS ADDED, AN ANSWER TO THOSE GRAND OBJECTIONS THAT LIE IN THE WAY OF THEM THAT WOULD BELIEVE, FOR THE COMFORT OF THOSE THAT FEAR THEY HAVE SINNED AGAINST THE HOLY GHOST. TO THE Courteous Reader: One reason which moved me to write and print this little book was, because though there are many excellent, heart-affecting dis- courses in the world that tend to convert the sinner, yet I had a desire to try this simple method of mine; wherefore I make bold thus to invite and encourage the worst to come to Christ for life. I have been vile myself, hut have obtained mercy ; and I woul’d have my companions in sin partake of mercy too, and therefore I have writ this little book. The nation doth swarm with vile ones now, as ever it did since it was a nation. My little book in some places can scarce go from house to house but it will find a suitable subject to spend itself upon. Now, since Christ Jesus is willing to save the vilest, why should they not by name be somewhat acquainted with it, and bid come to him under that name? A great sinner when converted seems a booty to Jesus Christ he gets by saving such an one: why, then, should Jesus lose his glory and the sinner lose his soul at once, and that for want of an invitation? I have found, through God’s grace, good success in preaching upon this subject, and perhaps so I may in writing upon it too. I have, as you see, let down this net for a draught ; READER. the Lord catch some great fishes by it for the magnifying of his truth ! There are some most vile in men’s eyes, and some are so in their own eyes too ; but some have their paint- ings to shroud their vileness under, yet they are naked and open unto the eyes of Him with whom we have to do ; and for all these God hath sent a Saviour Jesus, and to all these the door is opened. Wherefore, prithee, profane man, give this little book the reading. Come, pardon and a part in heaven and glory cannot be hurtful to thee. Let not thy lusts, and folly drive thee beyond the door of mercy, since it is not locked nor bolted up against thee. Manasseh was a bad man, and Magdalen a bad woman, to say nothing of the thief upon the cross or of the murderers of Christ, yet they obtained mercy: Christ willingly received them. And dost thou think that those, once so bad, now they are in heaven repent them there be- cause they left their sins for Christ when they were in the world ? I cannot believe but that thou thinkest they have verily got the best of it. Why, sinner, do thou likewise. Christ, at heaven’s gate, says to thee, Come hither ; and the devilj at the gates of hell, does call thee to come to him. Sinner, what sayest thou? whither wilt thou go? Don’t go into the fire; there thou wilt be burned. Do not let Jesus 323 824 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. lose liis longing, since it is for thy salvation; but come to him and live. One word more, and so I have done. Sin- ner, here thou dost hear of love; prithee, do not provoke it by turning it into wantonness. He that dies for slighting love sinks deepest * The unbelieving and the abominable, who refuse to accept the loving invitation of the heavenly Charm- er, the meek Lamb of God, now, will ere long be into hell, and will there be tormented by the remembrance of that evil, more than by the deepest cogitation of all his other sins.* Take heed, therefore; do not make love thy tor- mentor, sinner. Farewell. forced to endure his wrath, when he puts on the fierce- ness of a roaring lion at the great and terrible day of his appearing. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED; OR, GOOD NEWS FOR THE VILEST OF MEN. Beginning at Jerusalem. — Luke xxiv. 47. The whole verse runs thus : “ And that re- pentance and remission of sins should he preached in his name among all nations, be- ginning at Jerusalem.” The words were spoken by Christ after he rose from the dead, and they are here rehearsed after an historical manner, but do contain in them a formal commission, with a special clause therein. The commission is, as you see, for the preaching of the Gospel, and is very dis- tinctly inserted in the holy record by Matthew and Mark : “ Go teach all nations,” &c. ; “ Go ye into all the word, and preach the Gospel to every creature.” Matt, xxviii. 19; Mark xvi. 15. Only this clause is in special mentioned by Luke, who saith that as Christ would have the doctrine of repentance and remission of sins preached in his name among all nations, so he would have the people of J erusalem to have the first proffer thereof. Preach it, saith Christ, in all nations, but begin at Jerusalem. The apostles, then, though they had a com- mission so large as to give them warrant to go and preach the Gospel in all the world, yet by this clause they were limited as to the begin- ning of their ministry : they were to begin this work at Jerusalem. “Beginning at Jerusa- lem.” Before I proceed to an observation upon these words, I must (but briefly) touch upon two things, namely — 1. Show you what Jerusalem now was. 2. Show what it was to preach the Gospel to them. I. For the first, Jerusalem is to be considered either — s The Jews, now dispersed throughout the whole earth, as foretold, arc standing monuments of God's dreadful vengeance against sin, and particularly the damning sin of unbelief in rejecting the Lord Christ, 1. With respect to the descent of her peo- pie; or, 2. With respect to her preference of exalta- tion; or, 3. With respect to her present state, as to her decays. 1. As to her descent. She was from Abra- ham, the sons of Jacob, a people that God singled out from the rest of the nations to set his love upon them. 2. As to her preference of exaltation, she was the place of God’s worship, and that which had in and with her the special tokens and signs of God’s favour and presence above any other people in the world. Hence the tribes went up to Jerusalem to worship ; there was God’s house, God’s high priest, God’s sacrifices accepted, and God’s eye and God’s heart per- petually. Ps. lxxvi. 1, 2; exxii. 1, 9; 1 Kings ix. 3. But, 3. We are to consider Jerusalem also in her decays ; for as she is so considered she is the proper object of our text, as will be further showed by and by. Jerusalem, as I told you, was the place and seat of God’s worship, but now decayed, de- generated, and apostatized.* The word, the rule of worship, was rejected of them, and in its place they had put and set up their own traditions; they had rejected also the most weighty ordinances, and put in the room thereof their own little things. Matt. xv. ; Mark vii. Jerusalem was therefore now great- ly backslidden, and become the place where truth and true religion was much defaced. It was also now become the very sink of sin and seat of hypocrisy, and gulf where true re- in whom alone is salvation. The Lord give us grace to prize and improve Gospel privileges, lest we also be cut otf through unbelief! 325 326 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. ligion was drowned. Here also now reigned presumption and groundless confidence in God, which is the bane of souls. Amongst its rulers, doctors, and leaders, envy, malice, and blas- phemy vented themselves against the power of godliness in all places where it was espied, as also against the promoters of it : yea, their Lord and Maker could not escape them. In a word, Jerusalem was now become the shambles, the very slaughter-shop for saints. This was the place wherein the prophets, Christ, and his people were most horribly per- secuted and murdered. Yea, so hardened at this time was this Jerusalem in her sins that she feared not to commit the biggest, and to bind herself by wish under the guilt and damning evil of it; saying, when she had murdered the Son of God, “His blood be upon us and our children.” And though Jesus Christ did, both by doc- trine, miracles, and holiness of life, seek to put a stop to their villainies, yet they shut their eyes, stopped their ears, and rested not till, as was hinted before, they had driven him out of the world. Yea, that they might, if possible, have extinguished his name and ex- ploded his doctrine out of the ’world, they, against all argument and in despite of Heaven, its mighty hand, and undeniable proof of his resurrection, did hire soldiers to invent a lie, saying, “His disciples stole him away from the grave,” on purpose that men might not count him the Saviour of the world, nor trust in him for the remission of sins. They were, saith Paul, contrary to all men ; for they did not only shut up the door of life against themselves, but forbad that it should be opened to any else. “Forbidding us,” saith he, “to preach to the Gentiles that they might be saved, to fill up their sin always.” Matt, xxiii. 35; xv. 7-9; Markvii. 6-8; Matt. iii. 7- 9; John viii. 33-41 ; Matt, xxvii. 18; Mark iii. 30 ; Luke ii. 5, 6 ; Matt, xxiii. 37 ; Luke xiii. 33, 34; Ps. ii. 22, 23; iv. 10; Matt, xxvii. 25; xx. 11-16; 1 Thess. ii. 14-16. This is the city and these are the people; this is their character and these are their sins; nor can there be produced their parallel in all this world. Nay, what world, what people, what nation, for sin and transgression could or can be compared to Jerusalem,* especially if you join to the matter of fact the light they sinned against and the patience which they * God’s ancient people were favoured with high pre- rogatives and advantages above any other nation under heaven ; to them “pertained the adoption, the glory, the abused? Infinite was the wickedness upon this account which they committed. After all their abusings of wise men and prophets, God sent unto them John Baptist to reduce them, and then his Son to redeem them, but they would be neither reduced nor re- deemed, but persecuted both to the death. Nor did they, as I said, stop here; the holy apostles they afterwards persecuted also to death, even so many as they could; the rest they drove from them unto the utmost corners. II. I come now to show you what it was to preach the Gospel to them. It was, saith Luke, to preach to them “ repentance and re- mission of sins in Christ’s name;” or, as Mark has it, “to bid them repent and believe the Gospel.” Mark i. 15. Not that repentance is a cause of remission, but a sign of our hearty reception thereof. Repentance is therefore here put to intimate that no pretended faith of the Gospel is good that is not accompanied with it ; and this he doth on purpose, because he would not have them deceive themselves ; for with what faith can he expect remission of sins in the name of Christ that is not heartily sorry for them? Or how shall a man be able to give to others a satisfactory account of his unfeigned subjection to the Gospel that yet abides in his impenitency? Wherefore repentance is here joined with faith in the way of receiving the Gospel. Faith is that without which it cannot be re- ceived at all, and repentance that without which it cannot be received unfeignedly. When therefore Christ says he would have repentance and remission of sins preached in his name among all nations, it is as much as to say, “I will that all men everywhere be sorry for their sins, and accept of mercy at God’s hand through me, lest they fall under his wrath in the judgment.” For, as I had said, without repentance what pretence soever men have of faith, they cannot escape the wrath to come. Wherefore Paul saith, “God commands all men everywhere to repent ” in order to their salvation, “because he hath ap- pointed a day in the which he will judge the world in righteousness by that Man whom he hath ordained.” Acts xvii. 30. And now we come to this clause: “Begin- ning at Jerusalem;” that is, that Christ would have Jerusalem have the first offer of the Gospel. covenants, the law, the service of God, the promises, the fathers, yea, Christ himself;” but, alas ! the glory is now departed. Professors, “ be not high-minded, but fear.” THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 327 1. This cannot bo so commanded, because they had not now any more right of themselves thereto than had any of the nations of the world, for their sins had divested them of all self-deservings. 2. Nor yet because they stood upon the ad- vance ground with the worst of the sinners of the nations; nay, rather the sinners of the na- tions had the advanced ground of them. For Jerusalem was, long before she had added this iniquity to her sin, worse than the very na- tions that God cast out before the children of Israel. 2 Chron. xxxiii. 3. It must therefore follow that this clause, “Begin at Jerusalem,” was put into his com- mission of mere grace and compassion, even from the overflowings of the bowels of mercy ; for indeed they were the worst, and so in the most deplorable condition of any people under the heavens.* Whatever, therefore, their relation was to Abraham, Isaac, or Jacob, however they for- merly had been the people among whom God had placed his name and worship, they were now degenerated from God more than the na- tions were from their idols, and were become guilty of the highest sins which the people of the world were capable of committing. Nay, none can be capable of committing of such un- pardonable sins as they committed against their God when they slew his Son and persecuted his name and word. From these words, therefore, thus explained, we gain this observation : That Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners. That these Jerusalem sinners were the big- gest sinners that ever were in the world I think none will deny that believes that Christ was the best man that ever was in the world, and also was their Lord God. And that they were to have the first offer of his grace the text is as clear as the sun ; for it saith, “ Begin at Jerusalem.” “ Preach,” said he, “ repentance and remission of sins to the Jerusalem sin- ners ;” to the Jerusalem sinners in the first place. One would have thought, since the Jeru- salem sinners were the worst and greatest sin- * The higher a people rise under the means, the lower will be their fall if they slight them; they that have been nearest to conversion, and yet not converted, shall have the greatest condemnation when judged. 0 highly-favoured England ! Tyre and Sidon, Sodom and Gomorrah, will have a milder hell than thy carnal, hypocritical, Ckristless children. ners, Christ’s greatest enemies, and those that not only despised his person, doctrine, and miracles, but that a little before had had their hands up to the elbows in his heart-blood, that he should rather have said, Go into all the world, and preach repentance and remission of sins among all nations ; and after that offer the same to Jerusalem. Yea, it had been in- finite grace if he had said so. But what grace is this, or what name shall we give it, when he commands that this repentance and remission of sins, which is designed to be preached in all nations, should first be offered to Jeru- salem — in the first place to the worst of sinners? Nor was this the first time that the grace which was in the heart of Christ thus showed itself to the world. For while he was yet alive, even while he was yet in Jerusalem, and perceived even among these Jerusalem sinners which was the most vile amongst them, he still in his preaching did signify that he had a desire that the worst of these worst should in the first place come unto him.f The which he showeth where he saith to the better sort of them, “ The publicans and harlots enter into the kingdom of God before you.” Matt. xxi. 31. Also, when he compared Jerusalem with the sinners of the nations, then he commands that the Jerusalem sinners should have the Gospel at present confined to them. “Go not,” saith he, “into the way of the Gentiles, and into any of the cities of the Samaritans enter ye not ; but go rather to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,” (Matt. x. 5, 6 ; xxiii. 37 ;) but go rather to them, for they were in the most fearful plight. These, therefore, must have the cream of the Gospel — namely, the first offer thereof in his lifetime. Yea, when he departed out of the world he left this as part of his last will with his preachers, that they also should offer it first to Jerusalem. He had a mind, a care- ful mind, as it seems, to privilege the worst of sinners with the first offer of mercy, and to take from among them a people to be the first- fruits unto God and to the Lamb. The 15th of Luke also is famous for this, where the Lord Jesus takes more care, as f The grace of Christ is sovereign and almighty ; and his Gospel is infinitely valuable and excellent, in- asmuch as it proclaims pardon to condemned malefac- tors, peace to proclaimed and avowed enemies, liberty to enslaved captives, cure to diseased sinners. Blessed be God for Jesus Christ! 328 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. appears there by three parables, for the lost sheep, lost groat, and the prodigal son, than for the other sheep, the other pence, or for the son that said he had never transgressed. Yea, he shows that there is joy in heaven among the angels of God at the repentance of one sinner, more than over ninety and nine just persons which need no repentance. Luke xv. After this manner, therefore, the mind of Christ w as set on the salvation of the biggest sinners in his lifetime. But join to this this clause, which he carefully put into the apos- tles’ commission to preach when he departed hence to the Father, and then you shall see that his heart was vehemently set upon it, for these were part of his last words with them : “Preach my Gospel to all nations, but see that you begin at Jerusalem.” Nor did the apostles overlook this clause when their Lord was gone into heayen. They went first to them of Jerusalem, and preached Christ’s Gospel to them : they abode also there for a season and time, and preached it to no- body else, for they had regard to the com- mandment of their Lord. And it is to be observed — namely, that the first sermon which they preached after the ascension of Christ, it was preached to the very worst of these Jerusalem sinners, even to those that were the murderers of Jesus Christ, (Acts ii. 28;) for these are part of the ser- mon : “ Ye took him, and by wicked bands have crucified and slain him.” Yea, the next sermon, and the next, and also the next to that, was preached to the self-same mur- derers, to the end they might be saved. Acts iii. 14, 15, 16; iv. 10, 11; v. 30; vii. 52. But we will return to the first sermon that was preached to these Jerusalem sinners, by which will be manifest more than great grace if it be duly considered. For after that Peter and the rest of the apostles bad, in their exhortation, persuaded these wretches to believe that they had killed the Prince of life, and after they had duly fallen under the guilt of their murder, saying, “Men and brethren, what shall we do?” he replies, by an universal tender to them all in general, considering them as Christ’s killers, that if they were sorry for what they had done,* and would be baptized for the re- *• Evangelical repentance is a gift and grace of the Spirit of God, it consists of godly sorrow for sin, flee- ing to Christ as the only refuge from its guilt, power and condemnation, and is accompanied with belief in mission of their sins in his name, they should receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Acts ii. 37, 38. This he said to them all, though he knew that they were such sinners. Yea, he said it without the least stick, or stop, or pause of spirit, as to whether he had best to say so or no. Nay, so far off was Peter from making an objection against one of them that by a par- ticular clause in his exhortation he endeavours that not one of them may escape the salvation offered. “ Repent,” saith he, “ and be bap- tized, every one of you.” I shut out never a one of you. For I am commanded by my Lord to deal with you, as it were, one by one, by the. word of his salvation. But why speaks he so particularly ? Oh ! there was reason for it. The people with whom the apostles were now to deal, as they were murderers of our Lord and to be charged in the general with his blood, so they had tlieir various and par- ticular acts of villainy in the guilt thereof now lying upon their consciences. And the guilt of these their various and particular acts of wickedness could not perhaps be reached to a removal thereof but by this particular- appli- cation. Repent, every one of you; be bap- tized, every one of you, in his name for the re- mission of sins, and you shall, every one of you, receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. Objection. But I was one of them that plotted to take away his life : May I be saved by him ? Peter. Every one of you. Objection. But I was one of them that bare false witness against him: Is there grace for me? Peter. For every one of you. Objection. But I was one of them that cried out, Crucify, crucify him; and that desired that Barabbas the murderer might live, rather than him : What will become of me, think you ? I am to preach repentance and remission of sins to every one of you, says Peter. Objection. But I was one of them that did spit in liis face when he stood before his ac- cusers ; I also was one that mocked him when in anguish he hanged bleeding on the tree : Is there room for me? For every one of you, says Peter. Objection. But I was one of them that in his extremity said, Give him gall and vinegar to drink : Why may I not expect the same when anguish and guilt is upon me ? him, and life-living virtue from him; all which ia evident by bringing forth much rich and ripe fruit to the glory of God’s grace. TIIE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 029 Peter. Repent of these your wickednesses, and here is remission of sins for every one of you. Objection. But I railed on him, I reviled him, I hated him, I rejoiced to see him mocked at by others : Can there be hopes for me? Peter. There is for every one of you.* “ Re- pent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.” Oh ! \vhat a blessed Every one of you is here ! llow willing was Peter, and the Lord Jesus by his ministry, to catch these murder- ers with the word of the Gospel, that they might be made monuments of the grace of God ! How unwilling, I say, was he that any of these should escape the hand of mercy 1 Yea, what an amazing wonder is it to think that, above all the world and above everybody in it, these should have the first offer of mercy ! “ Beginning at Jerusalem.” But was there not something of moment in this clause of the commission ? Did not Peter, think you, see a great deal in it, that lie should thus begin with these men, and thus offer, so particularly, this grace to each particular man of them?. But, as I have told you, this is not all ; these Jerusalem sinners must have this offer again and again ; every one of them must be offered it over and over. Christ would not take their first rejection for a denial, nor their second repulse for a denial, but he will have grace offered once, and twice, and thrice to these Jerusalem sinners. Is not this amazing grace? Christ will not be put off ; these are the sinners that are sinners indeed. They are sinners of the biggest sort ; consequently such as Christ can, if they convert apd be saved, best serve his ends and designs upon. Of which more anon. But what a pitch of grace is this! Christ is minded to amaze the world, and to show that he acteth not like the children of ipen. This is that which he said of old, “ I will not execute the fierceness of wrath, I will not re- turn to destroy Ephraim ; for I am God and not man.” Hos. xi. 9. This is not the manner of men ; men are shorter-winded ; men are soon moved to take vengeance, and to right thern- * All the objections are on the sinner’s side, through unbelief. Christ, in his Gospel of peaee, answers them all in one word, “ Whosoever will, .let him come and take of the water of life freely;” and “whosoever eorneth I will in nowise cast out.” Lord, put forth thy power and give the will. selves in a way of wrath and indignation. But God is full of grace, full of patience, ready to forgive, and one that delights in mercy. All this is seen in our text. The biggest sin- ners must first be offered mercy ; they must, I say, have the cream of the Gospel offered unto them. But we will a little proceed. In the third chapter we find that they who escaped con- verting by the first sermon are called upon again to accept of grace and forgiveness for their murder committed upon the Son of God. You have killed, yea, “you have denied, the Holy One and the Just, and desired a mur- derer to be granted unto you ; and killed the Prince of life.” Mark, he falls again upon the very men that actually were, as you have it in the chapters following, his very betrayers and murderers, f (Acts iii. 14, 15,) as being loth that they should escape the mercy of forgive- ness, and exhorts them again to repent, “that their sins might be blotted out.” Ver. 19, 20. Again, in the fourth chapter he charges them afresh with this murder, (ver. 10,) but withal tells them, “ Salvation is in no other.” Then, like a heavenly decoy, he puts himself also among them, to draw them the better under the net of the Gospel, saying, “ There is none, other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved.” Ver. 12. In the filth chapter you find them railing at him because he continued preaching among, them salvation in the name of Jesus. But he tells them that that very Jesus whom they had slain and hanged on a tree, him God had raised up and exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance to Israel and for- giveness of sins. Ver. 29, 30, 31. Still insinu- ating that though they had killed him, and to this day rejected him, yet his business was to bestow upon them repentance and forgiveness of sins. It is true, after they began to kill again, and when nothing but killing would serve their turn, then they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the word. Yet even some of them so hankered after the con- version of the Jews that they preached the Gospel only to them. Also the apostles still f This is the awful case of every unconverted per- son : we are all born in sin, children of wrath, and heirs of hell; like sill} - sheep gone astray, we know not which way to return till we hear the Shepherd's voice. “ Can these dry bones live ?” Lord, put life and spirit into them. Raise the dead, be eyes to the blind, ears to the deaf, aud feet to the lame. 330 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. made their abode at Jerusalem, in hopes that they might yet let down their net for another draught of these Jerusalem sinners. Neither did Paul and Barnabas, who were the minis- ters of God to. the Gentiles, but offer the Gos- pel, in the first place, to those of them that for their wickedness were scattered like vagabonds among the nations : yea, and when they ren- dered rebellion and blasphemy for their se-vice and love, they replied, “ It was necessary that the word of God should first have been spoken to them.” Acts i. 8 ; xiii. 46, 47. Nor was this their preaching unsuccessful among these people; but the Lord Jesus so wrought with the word thus spoken that thou- sands of them came flocking to him for mercy. Three thousand of them closed with him at the first, and afterwards two thousand more ; for now they were in number about five thou- sand ; whereas before sermons were preached to these murderers the number of the disciples “ was not above a hundred and twenty.” Acts i. 15 ; ii. 41 ; iv. 4. Also among these people that thus flocked to him for mercy there was a “great company of priests.” Acts vi. 7. Now the priests were they that were the greatest of these biggest sinners; they were the ringleaders, they were the inventors and ringleaders in the mischief. It was they that set the peo23le against the Lord Jesus, and that was the cause why the uproar increased until Pilate had given sen- tence upon him. “The chief priests and elders,” says the text, “ persuaded (the people) the multitude that they should ask Barabbas and destroy Jesus.” Matt, xxvii. 20. And yet behold the priests, yea a great company of the priests, became obedient to the faith.* Oh the greatness of the grace of Christ, that he should be thus in love with the souls of Jerusalem sinners! that he should be thus delighted with the salvation of the Jerusalem sinners ! that he should not only will that his Gospel should be offered them, but that it should be offered unto them first, and before other sinners were admitted to a hearing of it ! “Begin at Jerusalem.” Was this doctrine well believed, where would there be a place for a doubt or a fear of the damnation of the soul if the sinner be peni- *' The truth of God, when clothed with his divine Spirit and power, is irresistible; having the strength of God in it, armed error must fall before it. This was exemplified in the conversion of many of those bitter enemies to Christ, the priests. An arrow dipt tent, how bad a life soever he has lived, now many soever in number are his sins ? But this grace is hid from the eyes of men : the devil hides it from them, for he knows it is alluring, he knows it has an attracting vir- tue in it; for this is it that above all argu- ments can draw the soul to God. I cannot help it, but must let drop another word. The first Church, the Jerusalem Church, from -whence the Gospel was to be sent into all the world, was a church made up of Jerusa- lem sinners. These great sinners were here the most shining monuments of the exceeding grace of God. Thus you see I have proved the doctrine, and that not only by showing you that this was the practice of the Lord Jesus Christ in his lifetime, but his last will -when he went up to God, saying, “ Begin to preach a t Jerusa- lem.” Yea, it is yet further manifested in that when his ministers first began to preach there he joined his power to the word, to the con- verting of thousands of his betrayers and murderers, and also many of the ringleading priests to the faith. I shall now proceed, and shall show you — 1 . The reason of the point ; 2. And then make some application of the whole. The observation, you know, is this: Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, to the Jerusalem sinners. “Preach repentance -and remission of sins in my name among all nations, begin- ning at Jerusalem.” The reasons of the points are — First, Because the biggest sinners have most need thereof. He that has the most need, reason says, should be helped first. I mean when a helping hand is offered, and now it is, for the Gospel of the grace of God is sent to help the world. Acts xvi. 9. But the biggest sinner has most need: therefore, in reason, when mercy is sent down from heaven to men, the worst of men should have the first offer of it. “ Begin at Jerusalem.” This is the reason which the Lord Christ himself renders why in his lifetime he left the best and turned him to the worst — why he sat so loose from the righteous and stuck so close to the wdckcd.f in the blood of Jesus will subdue the most obdurate heart it reaches. ! The soul is mortally wounded by sin ; happy only they who both know and feel it ! Christ is appointed in the council of heaven for the cure of it ; but such THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 331 “The whole,” saith he, “ have no need of the physician, but the sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” Mark ii. 15, 16, 17. Above you read that the scribes and Phari- sees said to his disciples, “ How is it that he eateth and drinketli with publicans and sin- ners?” Alas! they did not know the reason ; but the Lord renders them one, and such an one as is both natural and cogent, saying, These have need, most need. Their great ne- cessity requires that I should be most friendly and show my grace first to them. Not that the others were sinless, and so had no need of a Saviour, but the publicans and their companions were the biggest sinners ; they were, as to view, worse than the scribes, and therefore in reason should be helped first, because they had most need of a Saviour. Men that are at the point to die have more need of the physician than they that are but now and then troubled with an heart-fainting qualm. The publicans and sinners were, as it were, in the mouth of death ; death was swal- lowing of them down, and therefore the Lord Jesus receives them first, offers them mercy first. “ The whole have no need of the physi- cian, but the sick. I came not to call the right- eous, but sinners, to repentance.” The sick, as I said, is the biggest sinner, whether he sees his disease or not. He is stained from head to foot, from heart to life and conversation. This man, in every man’s judgment, has most need of mercy. There is nothing attends him from bed to board, and from board to bed again, but the visible characters and obvious symptoms of eternal damnation. This therefore is the man that has need, most need, and therefore in reason should be helped in the first place. Thus it was with the people concerned in the text; they were the worst of sinners, Jerusa- lem sinners, sinners of the biggest size, and therefore such as had the greatest need ; where- fore they must have mercy offered to them be- fore it be offered anywhere else in the world. “ Begin at Jerusalem,” offer mercy first to a Jerusalem sinner. This man has most need, he is farthest from God, nearest to hell, and so one that has most need. This man’s sins are in number the most, in cry the loudest, in sinners as think themselves in a healthy state will desire no physician’s help. “Jesus came not to call the (opinionative) righteous, but the (sensible) sinner to repentance.” llis blood cleanseth from all sin. v * Such were David, Manasseh, Magdalen, Peter, weight the heaviest, and consequently will sink him soonest; wherefore he has most need of mercy. This man is shut up in Satan’s hand, fastest bound in the cords of his sins, one that justice is whetting his sword to cut off, and therefore has most need, not only of mercy, but that it should be extended to him in the first place. But a little further, to show you the true na- ture of this reason — to wit, that Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners.* First, Mercy ariseth from bowels and com- passion, from pity, and from a feeling of the condition of those in misery. “ In his love and in his pity he saveth us.” And again, “ The Lord is pitiful, very pitiful, and of great mercy.” Isa. lxiii. 9; James v. 11. Now, where pity and compassion is, there is yearning of the bowels; and where there is that, there is readiness to help. And I say again, the more deplorable and dreadful the condition is, the more directly doth bowels and compassion turn themselves to such and offer help and deliverance. All this flows from our first Scripture proof, “ I came to call them that have need ;” to call them first, while the rest look on and murmur. “ How shall I give thee up, Ephraim ?” Ephraim was a revolter from God, a man that had given himself up to devilism — a company of men, the ten tribes, that had worshipped devils, while Judah kept with his God. “But how shall I give thee up, Ephraim? How shall I deliver thee, Israel? How shall I make thee as Admah? How shall I set thee as Zeboim? (and yet thou art worse than they; nor has Samaria committed half thy sins.)” Ezek. xvi. 46, 51. “ My heart is turned with- in me, and my repentings are. kindled to- gether.” Hos. xi. 8. . But where do you find that ever the Lord did thus rowl in his bowels for and after any self-righteous man? No, no; they are the publicans and harlots, idolaters and Jerusalem sinners, for whom his bowels yearn and thus tumble about within him ; for, alas ! poor worms, they have most need o.f mercy. Had not the good Samaritan more compas- sion for that man that fell among thieves Paul, and many others, who, having been grievous of- fenders, blasphemers, and persecutors, became at length eminent examples of Christ's clemency, grace and pardoning mercy : and (blessings on him !) he is still able and willing to save to the uttermost all whe come unto God by him. 332 JBUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. (though that fall was occasioned by his going from the place where they worshipped God to Jericho, the cursed city) than we read he had for any other besides ? His wine was for him, his oil was for him, his beast for him ; his penny, his care, and his swaddling-band for him: for, alas! wretch, he had most need. Luke x. 30-35. Zaocheus the publican, the chief of the pub- licans. -one that had made himself the richer by wronging of others, — the Lord at that time singleth him out from all the rest of his brother publicans, and that in the face of many Pharisees, and proclaimed in the aud- ience of them all that that day salvation w r as come to his house. Luke xix. 1-8. The woman also that had been bound down by Satan for eighteen years together, his com- panions putting him upon it he loosed her, though those that stood by snarled at him for so doing. Luke iii. 11-13. And why the woman of Sarepta, and why Naaman the Syrian, rather than widows and lepers in Israel, but because their conditions were more deplorable,* for that they were most forlorn and farthest from help? Luke iv. 25, 27. But, I say, why all these thus named? Why have we not a catalogue of some holy men that were so in their own eyes and in the judgment of the world? Alas! if at any time any of them are mentioned, how seemingly coldly doth the record of Scripture present them to us ? Nicodemus, a night professor, and Simon the Pharisee with his fifty pence, and their great ignorance of the methods of grace, we have now and then touched upon. Mercy seems to be out of its proper channel when it deals with self-righteous men ; but then it runs with a full stream when it extends . itself to the biggest sinners. As God’s mercy is not regulated by man’s goodness, nor ob- tained by man’s worthiness, so not much set out by saving of any such. But more of this anon. And here let me ask my readers a question: Suppose that, as thou art walking by some pond side, thou shouldst espy in it four or five children all in danger of drowning, and one in more danger than all the rest: judge * These were the objects of discriminating grace; by divine illumination they saw and groaned under their ignorance, rebellion, apostacy, and utter in- ability to return to God : this being humbly confessed, Christ steps in to their relief with, “I will; be thou clean.” Luke v. 13. Then follows peace and joy in believing. which has most need to be helped uut first? I know thou wilt say, He that is nearest drowning. Why, this is the case : the bigger sinner, the nearer drowning; therefore the bigger sinner, the more need of mercy; yea, of help by mercy in the first place. And to this our text agrees when it saith, “ Beginning at Jerusalem.” Let the Jerusalem sinner, says Christ, have the first offer, the first invitation, the first tender of my grace and mercy, for he is the biggest sinner, and so has most need thereof. Secondly, Christ Jesus would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sin- ners, because when they, any of them, re- ceive it, it redounds most to the fame of his name. Christ Jesus, as you may perceive, has put himself under the term of a physician, a doc- tor for curing of diseases ; and you know that applause and a fame is a thing that physicians much desire. That is it that helps them to patients, and that also that will help their patients to commit themselves to. their skill for cure with the more confidence and repose of spirit. And the best way for a doctor or physician to get themselves a name is, in the first place, to take in hand and cure some such as all others have given up for lost and dead. Physicians get neither name nor fame by pricking of wheals, or picking out' thistles, or by laying of plasters to the scratch of a pin : every old woman can do this. But if they would have a name and a fame, if they will have it quickly, they must, as I said, do some great and desperate cures. Let them fetch one to life that was dead ; let them re- cover one to his wits that was mad; let them make one that was born blind to see ; or let them give ripe wits to a fool : these are notable cures, and he that can do thus, and if he doth thus first, he shall have the name and fame he desires ; he may lay abed till noon. Why, Christ Jesus . forgiveth sins for a name, and so begets of himself a good report in the hearts of the children of men.f And therefore in reason he must be willing, as also he did command, that his mercy should be offered first to the biggest sinners. “I will forgive their sins, iniquities, and j- Such as truly know Christ, and have tasted sweet- ness in him, will count all things else but dung and dross in comparison of his love; they will moreover be forward to invite and draw others to a saving acquaintance with Him whom they esteem altogether lovely. THE TER USA LEM SINNER SAVED. 333 transgressions,” says lie ; “ and it shall turn to nic for a name of joy, and a praise, and an honour before all the nations of the earth.” Jer. xxxiii. 8, 9. And hence it is that at his first appearing he took upon him to do such mighty works: he got a fame thereby ; he got a name thereby. Matt. iv. 23, 24. When Christ had cast the legion of devils out of the man of whom you read in Mark v., he bid him go home to his friends and tell it. “Go home,” saith he, “to thy friends, and tell them how great things God has done for thee, and hast had compassion on thee.” Mark v. 19. Christ Jesus seeks a name and desireth a fame in the world ; and therefore, or the better to obtain that, he commands that mercy should first be proffered to the biggest sinners, because by the saving of one of them he makes all men marvel, as it is said of the man last mentioned, whom Christ cured to- wards the beginning of his ministry. “And he departed,” says the text, “and began to publish in Decapolis how great things Jesus had done for him ; and all men did marvel.” Ver. 20. When John told Christ that they saw one casting out devils in his name, and they for- bade him, because he followed not with them, what is the answer of Christ? “Forbid him not, for there is no man which shall do a mira- cle in my name that can lightly speak evil of me.” No : they will rather cause his praise to be heard and his name to be magnified, and so put glory on the head of Christ. But we will follow a little our metaphor. Christ, as I said, has put himself under the term of a physician ; consequently he desireth that his fame as to the salvation of sinners may spread abroad, that the world may see what he can do. And to this end he has not only commanded that the biggest sinners should have the first offer of his mercy, but has, as physicians do, put out his bills and published his doings, that things may be read and talked of. Yea, he has moreover, in these his blessed bills — the holy Scriptures I mean — inserted the very names of persons, the places of their abode, and the great cures that by the means of his salvation he has wrought upon them to this very end. Here is, item, Such a one, by my grace and redeeming blood, was made a monument of everlasting life; and such a one, by my perfect obedi- ence, became an heir of glory.* And then he produceth their names: Item. I saved Lot from the guilt and damna- tion that he had procured to himself by his incest. Item. I saved David from the vengeance that belonged to him for committing of adultery and murder. Here is also Solomon, Manasseh, Peter, Magdalen, and many others made mention of in this book. Yea, here are their names, their sins, and their salvations recorded to- gether, that you may read and know what a Saviour he is, and do him honour in the world. For why are these things thus re- corded but to show to sinners what he can do, to the praise and glory of his grace ? And it is observable, as I said before, we have but very little of the salvation of little sinners mentioned in God’s book, because that would not have answered the design — to wit, to bring glory and fame to the name of the Son of God. What should be the reason, think you,* why Christ should so easily take a denial of the great ones that were the grandeur of the world, and struggle so -hard for hedge-creepers and highwaymen, (as that parable in Luke xiv. seems to import he doth,) but to show forth the riches of the glory of his grace to his praise ? This, I say, is one reason to be sure. They that had their grounds, their yoke of oxen, and their marriage joys were invited to come, but they made their excuse, and that served the turn. But when he comes to deal with the worst, he saith to his servants, Go ye out and bring them in hither. “ Go out quickly, and bring in hither the poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind. And they did so.” And he said again, “ Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled.” Luke xiv. 18, 19, 20. These poor lame, maimed, blind hedge-creep- ers and highwaymen must come in, must be forced in. These, if saved, will make his merits shine. When Christ was crucified and hanged up between the earth and heavens, there were two thieves crucified with him; and behold, he lays hold of one of them, and will have him away with him to glory. Was not this a strange act and a display of unthought-of grace ? * God's regenerated and adopted ones, whose names are registered in heaven, who are really members of the Gospel Church, have a right, by the promises, to all that God has provided and Christ has purchased, even to the whole inheritance of grace here and glory in heaven. 334 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Were there none but thieves there, or were the rest of that company out of his reach ? Could he not, think you, have stooped from the cross to the ground, and have laid hold on some honester man if he would? Yes, doubtless. Oh ! but then he would not have displayed his grace, nor so have pursued his own designs — ■ namely, to get himself a praise and a name ; but now he has done it to purpose. For who that shall read this story but must confess that the Son of God is full of grace : for a proof of the riches thereof he left behind him when upon the cross he took the thief away with him to glory. Nor can this one act of his be buried ; it will be talked of to the end cf the world to his praise.* “ Men shall speak of the might of thy terrible acts, and will declare thy greatness. They shall abundantly utter the memory of thy great goodness, and shall sing of thy righteousness. They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom and talk of thy power, to make known to the sons of men his mighty acts and the glorious majesty of his kingdom.’' Ps. cxiv. 6, 12. When the word of God came among the con- jurers and those soothsayers that you read of in Acts xix., and had prevailed with some of them to accept of the grace of Christ, the Holy Ghost records it with a boast, for that it would redound to his praise, saying, “ And many of them that used curious arts brought their books together and burned them before all men, and counted the price of them, and found it fifty thousand pieces of silver ; so mightily grew the word of God, and prevailed.” Acts xix. 19, 20. It wrenched out of the clutches of Satan some of those of whom he thought himself most sure. “So mightily grew the word of God.” It grew mightily ; it encroached upon the kingdom of the devil ; it pursued him and took the prey ; it forced him to let go his hold ; it brought away captive, as prisoners taken by force of arms, some of the most valiant of his army ; it fetched back from, as it were, the confines of hell, some of those that were his most trusty, and that with hell had been at an agreement : it made them come and confess their deeds and burn their books before all men : “ So mightily grew the word of God, and prevailed.” * This was truly a miracle of grace and sovereign mercy. It was effected by the mighty power of God the Holy Ghost, who enlightens the eyes of the sin- ner’s understanding, to see his own deplorable misery, the excellency of Christ, and the alone-sufficiency and all-sufficiency of his grace for salvation. Thus, therefore, you see why Christ will have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners ; they have most need thereof ; and this is the most ready way to extol His name that rideth upon the heavens to our help. But, Thirdly, Christ Jesus would have mere] offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because by their forgiveness and salvation others, hearing of it, will be encouraged the more to come to him for life. For the physician by-curing the most des- perate at the first doth not only get himself a name, but begets encouragement in the minds of other diseased folks to come to him for help. Hence you read of our Lord that after, through his tender mercy, he had cured many of great diseases, his fame was spread abroad : “ They brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatic, and those that had the palsy, and he healed them ; and there fol- lowed him great, multitudes of people from Galilee, and Decapolis, and -Jerusalem, and Judea, and from beyond Jordan.” Matt. iv. 24, 25. See here, he first by working gets himself a fame, a name, and renown, and now men take encouragement, and bring from all quarters their diseased to him, being helped, by what they had heard, to believe that their diseased should be healed. Now, as he did with those outward cures, so he does in the proffers of his grace and mercy ; he proffers that in the first place to the biggest sinners, that others may take heart to come to him to be saved. f I will give you a Scripture or two. I mean to show you that Christ, by commanding that his mercy should in the first place be offered to the biggest of sinners, has a design thereby to encourage and provoke others to come also to him for mercy. “God,” saith Paul, “who is rich in mercy, for his great love wherewith he loved us, even when we were dead in our sins, hath quickened us together with Christ, (by grace ye are saved, ) and hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus.” But why did he do all this ? “ That in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of f None will be disposed to come to the Saviour till they have been so far awakened by the threatenings of God’s wrath to a sight of tlfeir misery as to make them see their need of Christ held out in the promise, and to flee for refuge to the only hope set before them in the Gospel. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 335 his grace in his kindness towards us through Christ Jesus.” Eph. ii. 4-7. See, here is a design : God lets out his mercy to Ephesus of design, even to show to the ages to come the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness to them through Christ Jesus. And why to show by these the exceeding riches of his grace to the ages to come through Christ Jesus but to allure them and their children also to come to him, and to partake of the same grace through Christ Jesus? But what was Paul and the Ephesian sinners? (Of Paul we will speak anon.) These Ephe- sian sinners, they were men dead in sins, men that walked according to the dictates and motions of the devil ; worshippers of Diana, that effeminate goddess ; men far off from God, aliens and strangers to all good things ; such as were far off from that, as I said, and conse- quently in a most deplorable condition. As the Jerusalem sinners were of the highest sort among the Jews, so these Ephesian sinners were of the highest sort among the Gentiles. Eph. ii. 1, 2, 3; Acts xix. 35; Eph. ii. 11, 12. Wherefore, as by the Jerusalem sinners, in saving them first, he had a design to provoke others to come to him for mercy, so the same design is here set on foot again in his calling and converting the Ephesian sinners, that in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace, says he, “ in his kindness towards us through Christ Jesus.” There is yet one hint behind. It is said that God saved these “ for his love ;” that is, as I think, for the setting forth, for the commendation of his love, for the advance of his love, in the hearts and minds of them that should come after. As who should say, God has had mercy upon and been gracious to you, that he might show to others, for their encouragement, that they have ground to come to him to be saved. When God saves one great sinner, it is to encourage another great sinner to come to him for mercy. He saved the thief, to encourage thieves to come to him for mercy; he saved Magdalen, to encourage other Magdalens to come to him for mercy ; he saved Saul, to encourage Sauls to come to him for mercy; and this Paul him- self doth say. “For this cause,” saith lie, “I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show forth all long-suffering, for a pat- tern to them which should hereafter believe on him to life everlasting.” 1 Tim. i. 16. * 0 sinner, beseech the Lord to enable you to wel- come the grace that is welcoming you ; then you shall find, in the Lord’s time, that you shall be made as IIow plain are the words ! Christ in saving of me has given to the world a pattern of his grace, that they might see and believe, and come and be saved — that they that are to be born hereafter might believe on Jesus Christ to life everlasting.* But what was Paul? Why, he tells you himself. “I am,” says he, “the chief of sin- ners ; I was,” says he, “ a blasphemer, a .per- secutor, an injurious person; but I obtain- ed mercy.” 1 Tim. i. 14, 15. Ay, that is well for you, Paul ; but what advantage have we thereby ? Oh, very much, saith he ; for “ for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might show all long-suffering, for a pattern to them which shall believe on him to life everlasting.” Thus, therefore, you see that this third rea- son is of strength— namely, that Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because by their forgive- ness and salvation, others hearing of it, will be encouraged the more to come to him for mercy. It may well therefore be said to God, “ Thou delightest in mercy, and mercy pleases thee.” Mic. vii. 18. But who believes that this was God’s design in showing mercy of old? — namely, that we that come after might take courage to come to him for mercy; or that Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, to stir up others to come to him for life? This is not the manner of men_ 0 God ! But David saw this betimes; therefore he makes this one argument with God, that he would blot out his transgressions, that he would forgive his adultery, his murders, and horrible hypocrisy. “ Do it, 0 Lord,” saith he, do it, and “ then will I teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners shall be converted unto thee.” Ps. Ii. 7-13. He knew that the conversion of sinners would be a work highly pleasing to God, as being that which he had designed before he made mountain or hill. Wherefore he comes, and he saith, Save me, O Lord ; if thou wilt but save me I will fall in with thy design ; I will help to bring what sinners to thee I can. And, Lord, I am willing to be made a preacher myself, for that I have been a horrible sinner. Wherefore, if thou slialt forgive my great trans- kindly welcome as ever a sinner was since Adam’s fall, and as ever any sinners were that are now glori- fied saints. 336 JB UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. gressions, I shall be a fit man to tell of tliy wondrous grace to others. Yea, Lord, I dare promise that if thou wilt have mercy upon me, it shall tend to the glory of thy grace, and also to the increase of thy kingdom ; for I will tell it, and sinners will hear of it. And there is nothing so suiteth with the hearing sinner as mercy, and to he informed that God is willing tc bestow it upon him. “ I will teach trans- gressors thy ways, and sinners shall he con- verted unto thee.” Nor will Christ Jesus miss of his design in proffering of mercy in the first place to the biggest sinners. You know what work the Lord, by laying hold of the woman of Samaria, made among the people there.* They knew that she was a town-sinner, an adulteress, yea, one that after the most audacious manner lived in uncleanness with a man that was not her husband ; but when she, from a turn upon her heart, went into the city and said to her neigh- bours, Come, oh how they came ! how they flocked out of the city to Jesus Christ ! “ Then they went out of the city and came to him, and many of the Samaritans (people perhaps as had as herself) believed on him, for the saying of the woman, which testified, saying, He told me all that ever I did.” John iv. 39. That word, “ He told me all that ever I did,” was a great argument with them ; for by that they gathered that though he knew her to be vile, yet he did not despise her, nor refuse to show how willing he was to communicate his grace unto her ; and this fetched over, first her, then them. This woman, as I said, was a Samaritan sin- ner, a sinner of the worst complexion, for the Jews abhorred to have aught to do with them, (ver. 9;) wherefore none more fit than she to be made one of the decoys of heaven, to bring others of the Samaritan wild fowls under the net of the grace of Christ. And she did the work to purpose. Many and many more of the Samaritans believed on him. Ver. 40, 41, 42. The heart of man, though set in sin, will, when it comes once to a persuasion that God is willing to have mercy upon us, incline to come to Jesus Christ for life. Witness those turn- aways from God that you also read of in Jere- * It is ignorance of the worth of Christ, and the not being sensible of the want of him, that makes persons so indifferent in their desires after him, and so remiss in using the means of grace to obtain him; but the promise is, “They that seek shall find; they that ask shall receive; and to them that knock the door of mercy and peace shall be opened.” miah ; for after they had heard three or four times over that God had mercy for backsliders, they broke out and said, “Behold, we come unto thee, for thou art the Lord our God.” Or as those in Hosea did, “ For in thee the fatherless find.” Jer. iii. 22; Hos. xiv. 1, 2, 3. . Mercy, and the revelation thereof, is the only antidote against sin. It is of a thawing nature ; it will loose the heart that is frozen up in sin : yea, it will make the unwilling will- ing to come to Jesus Christ for life. Wherefore, do you think, was it that Jesus Christ told the adulterous woman, and that be- fore so many sinners, that he had not con- demned her, but to allure her, with them there present, to hope to find favour at his hands ? (As he also saith in another place,) “I came not to judge, but to save the world.”! For might they not thence most rationally con- clude that if Jesus Christ had rather save than damn an harlot, there was encouragement for them to como to him for mercy ? I heard once a story from a soldier who with his company had laid siege against a fort, that so long as the besieged were persuaded their foes would show them no favour they fought like madmen ; but when they saw one of their fellows taken and received to favour, they all came tumbling down from their fortress, and delivered themselves into their enemies’ hands. I am persuaded, did men believe that there is that grace and willingness in the heart of Christ to save sinners as the word imports there is, they would come tumbling into- his arms ; but Satan has blinded their minds that they cannot see this thing. Howbeit, the Lord Jesus has, as I said, that others might take heart and come to him, given out a com- mandment that mercy should in the first place be offered to the biggest sinners. “ Begin,” saith he, “ at Jerusalem.” And thus I end the third reason. Fourthly, Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because that is the way, if they receive it, most to weaken the kingdom of Satan, and to keep it lowest in every age of the world. The big- gest sinners, they are Satan’s colonels and captains, the leaders of his people, and they that most stoutly make head against the Son of God. Wherefore let these first be con- f The design of Christ’s first coining into the world was to save miserable sinners; the end of his second coming will be to judge the unbelieving part of it ; for the sin of unbelief binds all other sins upon the sin- ner) and consigns him over to damnation. THE JERUSALEM SIN EE R SAVED. 337 quered, ftnd his kingdom will be weak. When Ishboshoth had lost his Abner, his kingdom was made weak, nor did he sit hut tottering then upon his throne. So when Satan loseth his strong men, them that are mighty to work iniquity, and dexterous to manage others in the same, then is his kingdom weak. 2 Sam. iii. Therefore, I say, Christ doth offer mercy in the first place to such the more to weaken ji is kingdom. Christ Jesus was glad to see Satan fall like lightning from heaven, that is suddenly or headlong; and it was surely by casting of him out of strong possessions and by recovering of some notorious sinners out of his clutches. Luke x. 17, 18, 19. Samson, when he would pull down the Phil- istines’ temple, took hold of the two main pillars of it, and, breaking them, down came the house. Christ came to destroy the works of the devil, and to destroy by converting grace as well as by redeeming blood. Now sin swarms, and lieth by legions and whole armies in the souls of the biggest sinners, as in gar- risons; wherefore the way, the most direct way, to destroy it is first to deal with such sin- ners by the word of his Gospel and by the merits of his passion.* For example, though I shall give you but a homely one : Suppose a family to be very lousy, and on.e or two of the family to be in chief the breeders ; the way, the quickest way, to clear that family,- or at least to weaken the so swarm- ing of those vermin, is, in the first place, to sweeten the skin, head, and clothes of the chief breeders ; and then, though all the family should be apt to breed them, the number of them, and so the greatness of that plague there, will be the more impaired. Why, there are some people that are in chief the devil’s sin-breeders in the towns and places where they live. The place, town, or family where they live must needs be horribly lousy, and, as it were, eaten up with vermin. Now, let the Lord Jesus in the first place cleanse these great breeders, and there will be given a nip to those swarms of sins that used to be committed in such places throughout the town, house, cr family where such sin-breeding per- sons used to be. I speak by experience: I was one of those * Christ’s meritorious life and sufferings were ap- pointed in order to bring those rebels and apostates for whom he died unto God: having satisfied justice, and fulfilled the law, every obstacle is removed, and the way to supreme happiness is made plain by the word and Spirit of God. 22 lousy ones, one of these great sin-breeders; I infected all the youth of the town where I was born with till manner of youthful vanities. The neighbours counted me so ; my practice proved me so; wherefore Christ Jesus took me first, and taking me first, the contagion was much allayed all the town over. When God made me sigh, they would hearken and inquiringly say, What is the matter with John? They also gave their various opinions of me. But, as I said, sin cooled and failed as to his full career. When I went out to seek the bread of life some of them would follow, and the rest be put into a muse at home. Yea, almost the town, at first, at times, would go out to hear at the place where I found good ; yea, young and old for a while had some reformation on them ; also some of them, perceiving that God had mercy upon me, came crying to him for mercy too. But what need I give you an instance of poor I? I will come to Manasseh the king. So long as he was a ringleading sinner, the great idolater, and chief of devilism, the whole land flowed with wickedness; “For he made them to sin,” and do worse than the heathen that dwelt round about them, or that was cast out from before them ; but when God converted him the whole land was reformed. Down went the groves, the idols, and altars of Baal, and up went true religion in much of the power and purity of it. You will say, The king reformed by power. I answer, Doubt- less, and by example too, for people observe their leaders; as their fathers did. so did they. 2 Chron. xxxiii.; 2 Kings xvii. 41. This, therefore, is another reason why Jesus would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because that is the best way, if they receive it, most to weaken the kingdom of Satan and to keep it poor and low. And do you not think now that if God would but take hold of the hearts of some of the most notorious in your town, in your family, or country, that this thing would be verified before your faces? It would, it would, to the joy of you that are godly, to the making of hell to sigh, to the great suppression of sin, the glory of Christ, and the joy of the angels of God.f And ministers should therefore, f It' the recovery of one lost sinner by repentance is matter of exceeding joy to Christ the great Shep- herd, to all the blessed company in heaven, and to saints on earth, what rejoicing must there be at the glorification of the innumerable throng when assem- bled together in the realms of bliss above ! 338 EUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. that this work might go on, take advantage to' persuade with the biggest sinners to come into Christ, according to my text and their com- mission, “beginning at Jerusalem.” Fifthly, Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because such, when converted, are usually the best helps in the' Church against temptations, and fittest for the support of the feeble-minded there. Hence, usually you have some such in the first plantation of churches, or quickly upon it. Churches would do but sorrily if Christ Jesus did not put such converts among them: they are the monuments and mirrors of mercy. The very sight cf such a sinner in God’s house— yea, the very thought of him where the sight of him cannot be had — is ofttimes greatly for the help of the faith of the feeble. “When the churehes (saith Paul) that were in Judea heard this concerning me, that he which persecuted them in time past now preached the faith which once he destroyed, they glorified God in me.” Gal. i. 20-24. “Glorified God.” How is that? Why, they praised him, and took courage to believe the' more in the mercy of God, for that he had had mercy on such a great sinner as he. They glorified God “in me,” they wondered that grace should be so rich as to take hold of such a wretch as I was ; and for my sake believe in Christ the more. There are two things that great sinners are acquainted with, when they come to divulge them to the saints, that are a great relief to their faith : 1. The contests that they usually have with the devil at their parting with him. 2. Their knowledge of his secrets in his workings. For the first : The biggest sinners have usually great contests with the devil at their partings ; and this is an help to saints, for or- dinary saints find afterwards what the vile ones find at first ; but when at the opening of hearts the one finds himself to be as the othe-r, the one is a comfort to the other. The lesser sort of sinners find but little of this till after they have been some time in profession : but the vile man meets with his at the beginning. Wherefore he, when the other is down, is ready to tell that he has met with the same before ; for, I say, he has had it before. Satan * The devil harasses some with horrid, filthy, blas- phemous thoughts, that they may think their sins too great to be forgiven, though commonly such thoughts is loth to part with a great sinner. What, my true servant, (quoth lie,) my old servant, wilt thou forsake me now? Having so often sold thyself to me to work wickedness, wilt thou forsake me now? Thou horrible wretch, dost not know that thou hast sinned thyself beyond the reach of grace, and dost think to find mercy now?* Art not thou a murderer, a thief, a harlot, a witch, a sinner of the greatest size, and dost thou look for mercy now? Host thou think that Christ will foul his fingers with thee? It is enough to make angels blush, saith Satan, to see so vile a one knock at heaven- gates for mercy, and wilt thou be so abomina- bly bold to do it? Thus Satan dealt with me, says the great sinner, when at first I came to Jesus Christ. And what did you reply? saith the tempted. Why, I granted the whole charge to be true, says the other. And what, did you despair, or how? No, (saith he,) I said, I am Magdalen, I am Magdalen; I am Zaccheus, I am the thief, I am the harlot, I am the publi- can, I am the prodigal, and one of Christ’s murderers ; yea, worse than any of these ; and yet God was so far off from rejecting of me (as I found afterwards) that there was music and dancing in his house for me, and for joy that I was come home unto him. Oh blessed be God for his grace! (says the other,) for then I hope there is favour for me. Yea, as I told you, such a one is a continual spectacle in the Church for every one to behold God’s grace and wonder by. Secondly. And as for the secrets of Satan, such as are suggestions to question the being of God, the truth of his word, and to be an- noyed with devilish blasphemies, none more acquainted with these than the biggest sinners at their conversion ; wherefore thus also they are prepared to be helps in the Church to re- lieve and comfort the other. I might also here tell you of the contests and battles that such are engaged in, wherein they find the besettings of Satan, above any other of the saints. At which times Satan assaults the soul with darkness, fears, frightful thoughts of apparitions ; now they sweat, pant, cry out, and struggle for life. The angels now come down to behold the sight, and rejoice to see a bit of dust and ashes to overcome principalities and powers and might and dominions. But, as I said, when these come a little to be settled, they are pre- are the least of the sins of those who are pestered with them, and l-ather the devil's, who injects them, than theirs. See Matt. xii. 31. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 339 pared for helping others, and arc great com- forts unto them. Their great sins give great encouragement to the devil to assault them; and by these temptations Christ takes advan- tage to make them the more helpful to the churches. The biggest sinner, when he is converted and comes into the Church, says to them all by his very coming in, Behold me, all you that are men and women of a low and timorous spirit, yoi'. whose hearts are narrow, for that you never had the advantage to know, because your sins are few, the largeness of the grace of God, — behold, I say, in me the exceeding riches of his grace!* I am a pattern set forth before your faces, on whom you may look ai*d take heart. This, I say, the great sinner can say, to the exceeding comfort of all the rest. Wherefore, as I have hinted before, when Gods intends to stock a place with saints, and to make that place excellently to flourish with the riches of his grace, he usually begins with the conversion of some of the most notorious thereabouts, and lays them as an example to allure others and to build up when they are converted. Paul must go to the Gentiles, because Paul was the most outrageous of all the apostles in the time of his unregeneracy ; yea, Peter must be he that after his horrible fall was thought fittest, when recovered again, to comfort and strengthen his brethren. See Luke xxii. 31, 32. Some must be pillars in God’s house ; and if they be pillars of cedar, they must stand while they are stout and sturdy sticks in the forest, before they are cut down and planted or placed there. • No man, when he buildeth his house, makes the principal parts thereof of weak or feeble timber — for how could such bear up the rest? — but of great and able wood. Christ Jesus also goeth this way to work ; lie makes of the big- gest sinners bearers and supporters to the rest. This, then, may serve for another reason why Jesus Christ gives out in commandment that mercy should, in the first place, be offered to the biggest sinners, because such, when con- verted, are usually the best helps in the Church against temptations, and fittest for the support of the feeble-minded there. * The Lord shows his grace nowhere so much as in the predestination of his children, and in what he hath predestined them unto ; all his attributes shine conspicuously herein, but the glory of his grace with superior lustre above the rest. Sixthly, Another reason why Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners is, because they, when con- verted, are apt to love him most. This agrees both with Scripture and reason. Scripture says so : “ To whom much is forgiven, the same loveth much. To whom little is for- given, the same loveth little.” Luke vii. 47. Reason says. so; for as it would be the unrea- sonablest thing in the world to render hatred for love and contempt for forgiveness, so it would be as ridiculous to think that the recep- tion of a little kindness should lay the same obligations upon the heart to love as the recep- tion of a great deal. I would not disparage the love of Christ; I know the least drachm of it, when it reaches to forgiveness, is great above all the world ; but comparatively, there are greater extensions of the love of Christ to one than to another. He that has most sin, if forgiven, is partaker of the greatest love, of the greatest forgiveness. I know also that there are some that from this very doctrine say, “ Let us do evil, that good may come,” aud that turn the grace of our God into lasciviousness. But I speak not of these ; these will neither be ruled by grace nor reason. Grace would teach them, if they knew it, to deny ungodly courses ; and so would reason too if it could truly sense the love of God. 2 Tim. ii. 11, 12; Rom. xi. 1. Doth it look like what hath any coherence with reason or mercy for a man to abuse his friend? Because Christ died for men shall I therefore spit in his face? The bread and water that was given by Elisha to his enemies that came into the land of Israel to take him had so much influence upon their minds, though heathens, that they returned to their homes without hurting him, yea, it kept them from coming again in a hostile manner into the coasts of Israel. 2 Kings vi. 19, 20, 21, 22, 23. But, to forbear to illustrate till anon, one reason why Christ Jesus shows mercy to sin- ners is, that he might obtain their Love, that he may remove their base affections from base objects to himself, f Now, if he loves to be loved a little, he loves to be loved much, but there is not any that are capable of loving much save those that have much forgiven f All objects are base when compared with Christ, who is the fulness of Him who filleth all in all. The love of anything, how excellent soever, above him, is the idolatry of the heart. They that know him most will love him best, and not turn aside to lying vanities. 340 ' RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. them. Hence it said of Paul that he laboured more than them all — to wit, with a labour of love— because he had been by sin more vile against Christ than they all. 1 Cor. xv. He it was that persecuted the Church of God and wasted it. Gal. i. 13. He, of them all, was the only raving bedlam against the saints: “And being exceeding mad,” says he, “ against them, I persecuted them, even to strange cities.” Acts xxvi. 11. This raving bedlam, that once was so, is he that r ow says, I laboured more than them all, more for Christ than them all. But, Paul, what moved thee thus to do? The love of Christ, says he. It was not I, but the grace of God that was with me. As who should say, 0 grace ! It was such grace to save me ! It was such marvellous grace for God to look down from heaven upon me, and that se- cured me from the wrath to come, that I am captivated with the sense of the riches of it. Hence I act, hence I labour; for how can I otherwise do, since God not only separated me from my sins and companions, but separated all the powers of my soul and body to his ser- vice? I am therefore prompted on by this exceeding love to labour as I have done; yet not I, hut the grace of God with me. Oh, I shall never forget his, love, nor the circumstances under which I was vdien his love laid hold upon me. I was going to Damascus with letters from the high priest to make havoc of God’s people there, as I had made havoc of them in other places. These bloody letters were not imposed upon me. 1 went to the high priest and desired them of him, (Acts ix. 1, 2,) and yet he saved me! I was one of the men, of the chief men, that had a hand in the blood of his martyr Stephen ; yet he had mercy on me ! When I was at Damascus I stunk so horribly like a blood-sucker that I became a terror to all thereabout. AYa, An- anias, good man, made intercession to my Lord against me ; yet he would have mercy upon me! Yea, joined mercy to mercy, until he had made me a monument of grace. He made a saint of me, and persuaded me that my transgressions were forgiven me. When I began to preach, those that heard me were amazed, and said, “Is not this he that destroyed them that called on this name in Jerusalem, and came hither for that intent, that he might bring them bound to the high * The quickening Spirit of God convinces us of sin ; and the belief of God’s pardoning and accepting grace in Christ is a necessary means to bring us to an in- priest?” Hell doth know that I was a sinner; heaven doth know that I was a sinner ; the world also knows that I was a sinner, a sinner of the greatest size; but I obtained mercy.* Acts ix. 20, 21. Shall not this lay obligation upon me? Is not love of the greatest force to oblige? Is it not strong as death, cruel as the grave, and hotter than the coals of juniper ? Hath it not a most vehement flame ? can the waters quench it? can the floods drown it? I am under the force of it, and this is my continual cry, What shall I render to the Lord for all the benefits which he has bestowed upon me ? Ay, Paul, this is something ; thou speakest like a man, like a man affected and carried away with the love and grace of God. Now this sense, and this affection, and this labour give to Christ the love that he looks for. But he might have converted twenty little sinners, and yet not found, for grace bestowed, so much love in them all. I wonder how far a man might go among the converted sinners of the smaller size before one could find one that so much as look any thing this-wayward. Where is he that is thus under pangs of love for the grace bestowed upon him by Jesus Christ? Excepting only some few, you may walk to the world’s end and find none. But, as I said, some there are, and so there have been in every age of the Church, great sinners, that have had much forgiven them, and they love much upon this account. Jesus Christ therefore knows what he doth when he lays hold on the hearts of sinners of the biggest size. Pie knows that such an one will love more than many that have not sinned half their sins. I will tell you a story that I have read of Martha and Mary: the name of the book I have forgot — I mean of the book in which . I found the relation — but the thing was thus : Martha, saith my author, was a very holy woman, much like Lazarus her brother, but Mary was a loose and wanton creature. Mar- tha did seldom miss good sermons and lec- tures when she could come at them in Jeru- salem, but Mary would frequent the houses of sports and the company of the vilest of men for lust. And though Martha had often de- sired that her sister would go with her to hear genuous confession of it. If you would freely confess your sins, believe first that “ God is faithful aDd just to forgive your sins,’’ through Christ. 1 John l. 9. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 341 her preachers, yea, had often entreated her with tears to do it, yet she could never pre- vail ; for still Mary would make her excuse, or reject her with disdain for her zeal and pre- ciseness in religion.* After Martha had waited long, tried many ways to bring her sister to good, and all proved ineffectual, at last she comes upon her thus: Sister, quoth she, I pray thee go with me to the temple to-day to hear one preach a sermon. What kind of preacher is he? said she. Martha replied, It is one Jesus of Nazareth ; he is the handsomest man you ever saw with your eyes. Oh ! he shines in beauty and is a most excellent preacher. Now, what docs Mary, after a little pause, but go up into her chamber, and with her pins and her clouts decks up herself as fine as her fingers could make her. This done, away she goes — not with her sister Martha, but as much unobserved as she could — to the sermon, or rather to see the preacher. The hour and preacher being come, and she having observed whereabout the preacher would stand, goes and sits herself so in the temple that she might be sure to have the full view of this excellent person. So he comes in and she looks, and the first glimpse of his per- son pleaseth her. Well, Jesus addresseth him- self to his sermon, and she looks earnestly on him. Now at that time, saith my author, Jesus preached about the lost sheep, the lost groat, and the prodigal child. And when he came to show what care the shepherd took for one lost sheep, and how the woman swept to find her piece which was lost, and what joy there was at their finding, she began to be taken by the ears, and forgot what she came about, musing what the preacher would make of it. But when he came to the application, and showed that by the lost sheep was meant a great sin- ner, by the shepherd’s care was meant God’s love for great sinners, and that by the joy of the neighbours was showed what joy there was among the angels in heaven over one great sinner that repenteth, she began to be taken by the heart. And as he spake these last words she thought he pitched his innocent * You may as well kill a carnal man as confiue him to prayer and preaching: he knows not what it is to take real pleasure in spiritual and heavenly work; then how could ho love heaven itself'? He could not. delight in heaven any more than a sow in a palace, or a profane debauchee in a company that are praying to and praising God spiritually. eyes just upon her, and looked as if he spake what was now said to her; wherefore her heart began to tremble, being shaken with affection and fear; then her eyes ran down with tears apace; wherefore she was forced to hide her face with her handkerchief, and so sat sobbing and crying all the rest of the sermon. Sermon being done, up she gets and away she goes, and withal inquired where this Jesus the preacher dined that day? and one told her at the house of Simon the Pharisee. So away goes she, first to her chamber, and there strips herself of her wanton attire; then falls upon her knees to ask God forgiveness of all her wicked life. This done, in a modest dress, she goes to Simon’s house, where she finds Jesus sat at dinner. So she gets behind him and weeps, and drops her tears upon his feet like rain and washes them, and wipes them with the hair of her head. She also kissed his feet with her lips, and anointed them with oint- ment. When Simon the Pharisee perceived what the woman did, and being ignorant of what it was to be forgiven much, (for he never was forgiven more than fifty pence,) he began to think within himself that he had been mis- taken about Jesus Christ, because he suffered such a sinner as this woman was to touch him.f Surely, quoth he, this man, if he were a prophet, would not let this woman come near him, for she is a town-sinner, (so ignorant are all self- righteous men of the way of Christ with sin- ners.) But lest Mary should be discouraged with some clownish carriage of this Pharisee, and so desert her good beginnings and her new steps which she now had began to take towards eternal life, Jesus began thus with Simon. “ Simon,” saith he, “ I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was, saith Jesus, a certain creditor had two debtors; the one owed him five hundred pence, and the other fifty. And when they had nothing to pay, lie frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most? Simon answered and said, I suppose he to whom he forgave most. And he said unto him, Thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman and said unto Simon, Seest thou this woman? I entered into thy house, thou gavest me no water for my feet ; f There is not a stream, not a drop of grace, to be had but from Jesus Christ; he, as God-man, has it all in himself: he communicates a fulness of light and life, sense and understanding, love and joy, yea, every spiritual blessing, to his members, who must depend on him at all times. 342 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. but she has washed my feet with tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint, but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for she loved much ; but to whom little is forgiven, the s„me lovetli little. And he said unto her, Thy sins are forgiven.” Luke vii. 36, 50. Thus you have the story. If I come short in any circumstance, I beg pardon of those that can correct me. It is three or four and twenty years since I saw the book ; yet I have, as far as my memory will admit, given you the relation of the matter. However, Luke, as you see, doth here present you with the sub- stance of the whole. Alas ! Christ Jesus has but little thanks for the saving of little sinners. “ To whom little is forgiven, the same loveth little.” He gets no water for his feet by his saving of such sin- ners. There are abundance of dry-eyed Chris- tians in the world, and abundance of dry-eyed duties too — duties that never were wetted with the tears of contrition and repentance, nor ever sweetened with the great sinner’s box of ointment. And the reason is, such sinners have not great sins to be saved from ; or, if they have, they look upon them in the dimin- ishing glass of the holy law of God. But I rather believe that the professors of our days want a due sense of what they are ; for verily, for the generality of them, both before and since conversion, they have been sinners of a lusty size. But if their eyes be holden, if con- victions are not shown, if their knowledge of their sins is but like to the eyesight in twilight, the heart cannot be affected with that grace that has laid hold on the man ; and so Christ Jesus sows much and has little coming in.* Wherefore his way is ofttimes to step out of the way, to Jericho, to Samaria, to the country of the Gadarenes, to the coasts of Tyre and Sidon, and also to Mount Calvary, that he may lay hold of such kind of sinners as will love him to his liking. Luke xix. 1-11 ; John iv. 3-1 1 ; Mark v. 1-21 ; Matt. xv. 21-29 ; Luke xxiii. 33M4. * “ Herein is my Father glorified, says the blessed Jesus, if ye bear much fruit.” Christians live below their privileges ; they should be always pressing for- ward to obtain more faith, hope, love, joy, godly fear, patience — to be shining lights and glorify their God and Saviour in all things. But this much for the sixth reason why Christ Jesus would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners ; to wit, be- cause such sinners, when converted, are apt to love him most. The Jerusalem sinners were they that outstripped, when they were con- verted, in some things, all the churches of the Gentiles. “ They were of one heart and of one soul, neither said any of them that aught of the things that lliey possessed was their own ; neither was there any nmong them that lacked, for as many as were possessors of lands or houses, sold them and brought the price of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles’ feet,” &c. Acts iv. 32-35. Now, show me such another pattern if you can. But why did these do thus? Oh, they were Jeru- salem sinners. These were the men that but a little before had killed the Prince of life ; and to those who did that, notwithstanding, he sent the first offer of grace and mercy. And the sense of this took them up betwixt the earth and the heaven, and carried them on in such ways and methods as could never be trodden by any since. They talk of the church at Borne, and set her, in her primitive state, as a pattern and mother of churches ; when the truth is, they were the Jerusalem sinners, when converts, that outdid all the churches that ever was. Seventhly, Christ Jesus would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, because grace, when it is received by such, finds matter to kindle upon more freely than it finds in other sinners. Great sinners are like the dry wood or like great candles, which burn best and shine with biggest light. I lay not this down, as I did those reasons before, to show that when great sinners are converted they will be encouragement to others, though that is true, but to show that Christ has a delight to see grace, the grace we receive to shine. f We love to see things that bear a good gloss ; yea, we choose to buy such kind of matter to work upon as will, if wrought up to what we intend, cast that lustre that we desire. Candles that burn not bright we like not; wood that is green will rather smother, and sputter, and smoke, and crack, and flounce than cast a brave light and a pleasant heat; wherefore j- The children of light should reflect the rays of God’s goodness to others, and, that they may do so, should pray for a constant supply of the Spirit, that in all their dealings it may appear that they have been with Jesus, and that his most amiable life and ex- ample is ever before their eyes. TIIE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 343 groat folks caro not much, not so much for such kind of things, as for them that will bet- ter answer their ends. Hence Christ desires the biggest sinners ; in him there is matter to work by — to wit, a great deal of sin; for as by the tallow of the candle the fire takes occasion to burn the brighter, so by the sin of the soul grace takes occasion to shine the clearer. Little candles shine but little, for there wanteth matter for the fire to work upon ; but in the great sinner here is more matter for grace to work by. Faith shines, when it worketh towards Christ, through the sides of many and great transgressors, and so docs love, for that much is forgiven. And what matter can be found in the soul for hu- mility to work by so well as by a 'sight that I have been and am an abominable sinner ? And the same is to be said of patience, meekness, gen- tleness, self-denial, or any other grace. Grace takes occasion by the vileness of the man to shine the more, even as by the ruggedness of a very strong distemper of disease the virtue of the medicine is best made manifest. “ Where sin abounds, grace much more abounds.” Rom. v. 20. A black string makes the neck look whiter; great sins make grace burn clear. Some say, When grace and a good nature meet together they do make shining Christians ; but I say, When grace and a great sinner meet, and grace shall subdue that great sinner to itself, and shall operate after its kind in the soul of that great sinner, then we have a shining Chris- tian : witness all of those of whom mention was made before. Abraham was among the idolaters when in the land of Assyria, and served idols with his kindred on the other side of the flood. Josh, xxiv. 2; Gen. xi. 31. But who, when called, was there in the world in whom grace shone so bright as in him? The Thessalonians were idolaters before the word of God came to them ; but when they had received it they became examples to all that did believe in Macedonia and Achaia. 1 Thess. i. 6-10. God the Father, and Jesus Christ his Son, are for having things seen, for having the word of life held forth. They light not a -Candle that it might be put under a bushel or under a bed, but on a candlestick, that all that come in may see the light. Matt. v. 15 ; Mark iv. 21. * The devil, who is the god of this world, knows how necessary it is for our salvation to discern all the glory and excellency of Christ; and therefore where the Gospel is preached he labours to eclipse the glory And I say, as I said before, in whom is it like so to shine as in the souls of great sinners? When the Jewish Pharisees dallied with the Gospel, Christ threatened to take it from them and to give it to the barbarous heathens and idolaters. Why so? For they, saith he, will bring forth the fruits thereof in their season: “Therefore, I say unto you, The kingdom of God shall be taken from you, and given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof.” Matt, xxi. 41, 42. I have often marvelled at our youth, and said in my heart, What should be the reason that they should be so generally at this day de- bauched as they are? For they are now pro- fane to amazement; and sometimes I have thought one thing and sometimes another ; that is, why God should suffer it so to be. At last I have thought of this: How if God, whose ways are past finding out, should suffer it so to be now that he might make of some of them the more glorious saints hereafter. I know sin is of the devil, but it cannot work in the world without permission ; and if it happens to be as I have thought, it will not be the first time that God the Lord hath caught Satan in his own design.* For my part, I believe that the time is at hand that we shall see better saints in the world than have been seen in it this many a day. And this vileness that at present does so much swallow up our youth is one cause of my thinking so ; for out of them, for from among them, when God sets to his hand as of old, you shall see what penitent ones, what trembling ones, and what admirers of grace will be found to profess the Gospel to the glory of God by Christ. Alas ! we are a company of worn-out Chris- tians, our moon is in the wane ; we are much more black than white, more dark than light ; we shine but a little ; grace in the most of us is decayed. But 1 say, when they of these de- bauched ones that are to be saved shall be brought in, when these that look more like devils than men shall be converted to Christ, (and I believe several of them will,) then will Christ be exalted, grace adored, the word prized, Zion’s paths better trodden, and men in the pursuit of their own salvation to the amazement of them that are left behind. Just before Christ came into the flesh the world was degenerated as it is now ; the gene- rality of men in Jerusalem were become either of Christ in the ministry, and to blind the minds of the people, lest the light of the glorious Gospel of Christ should shine unto them. 2 Cor. iv. 4. 344 BUK YAK’S COMPLETE WORKS. high and famous for hypocrisy or filthy base in their lives. The devil also was broke loose in a hideous manner, and had taken possession of many; yea, I believe that there was never generation before nor since that could produce so many possessed with devils, deformed, lame, blind, and infected with monstrous diseases, as that generation could. But what was the rea- son thereof? I mean the reason from God. Why one (and we may sum up more in that answer that Christ gave to his disciples con- cerning him that was born blind) was, that the works of God might be made manifest in them, and that the Son of God might be glorified thereby. John ix. 2, 3; xi. 4. Now if these devils and diseases, as they possessed men then, were to make way and work for an approaching Christ in person and for the declaring of his power, why may we not think that now, even now also, he is ready to come by his Spirit in the Gospel to heal many of the debaucheries of our age? I can- not believe that grace will take them all, for there are but few that are saved; but yet it will take some, even some of the worst of men, and make blessed ones of them* But oh how these ringleaders in vice will then shine in virtue! They will be the very pillars in churches, they will be as an ensign in the land; “The Lord their God shall save them in that day as the flock of his people, for they shall be as the stones of a crown, lift up as an ensign upon the land.” Zech. ix. 16. But who are these? Even idolatrous Ephraim and backsliding Judah. Yer. 13. I know there is ground to fear that the in- iquity of this generation will be pursued with heavy judgments; but that will not hinder what we have supposed : God took him a glori- ous Church out'of bloody Jerusalem, yea, out of the chief of the sinners there, and left the rest to be taken and spoiled, and sold thirty for a penny in the nations where they were captives. The Gospel working gloriously in a place, to the seizing upon many of the ring- leading sinners thereof, promises no security to the rest, but rather threateneth them with the heaviest and smartest judgments, as in the instance now given we have a full demonstra- tion; but in defending the Lord will defend his people, and in saving he will save his in- heritance. * Divine grace is almighty in its operation : it con- vinces the sinner of the total blindness of his under- standing God-ward, the rebellion of his will and en- mity of his heart against God, his abominable life, Nor does this speak any great comfort to a decayed and backsliding sort of Christians; for the next time God rides post with his Gos- pel he will leave such Christians behind him. But I say, Christ is resolved to set up his light in the world ; yea, he is delighted to see his graces shine; and therefore he commands that his Gospel should to that end be offered, in the first place, to the biggest sinners, for by great sins it sliinetli most ; therefore he saith, “Begin at Jerusalem.” Eighthly and lastly. Christ Jesus will have mercy to be offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, for that by that means the im- penitent that are left behind will be at the judgment the more left without excuse. God’s word has two edges ; it can cut back- stroke and fore-stroke ; if it doth thee no good, it will do thee hurt; it is the savour of life unto life to those that receive it, but of death unto death to them that refuse it. 2 Cor. ii. 15, 16.. But this is not all ; the tender of grace to the biggest sinners in the first place will not only leave the rest, or those that refuse it, in a deplorable condition, but will also stop their mouths and cut off all pretence to excuse at that day. “If I had not come and spoken to them,” saith Christ, “ they had not had sin ; but now they have no cloak for their sin,” for their sin of persevering in impenitence. John xv. 22. But what did he speak to them ? Why, even that which I have told you ; to wit, that he has in special a delight in saving the biggest sin- ners. He spake this in the way of his doctrine, he spake this in the way of his practice, even to the pouring out of his last breath before them. Luke xxiii. 34. Now, since this is so, what can the con- demned at the judgment say for themselves why sentence of death should not be passed upon them? I say, what excuse can they make for themselves when they shall be asked why they did not in the day of salvation cpme to Christ to be saved ? Will they have ground to say to the Lord, Thou wast only for saving of little sinners, and therefore because they were great ones they durst not come unto him? or that, Thou hadst not compassion for the big- gest sinners, therefore I died in despair?! Will these be excuses for them as the case now standeth with them ? Is there not everywhere guijt and condemnation by God's righteous law; and then brings him to the foot of the cross for pardon, peace, and salvation by Christ. j- An evil and guilty conscience, whereby we judge THE JERUSALEM SINNER SA VED. 345 in God’s book u flat contradiction to this in multitudes of promises, of invitations, of ex- amples and the like? Alas, alas! there will then he there millions of souls to confute this pica; ready, I say, to stand up, and say, 0 leceivcd world, heaven swarms with such as were, when they were in the world, to the full as bad as you. Now, this will kill all plea or excuse why they should perish in their sins ; yea, the text says they shall see them here. “There shall be weeping when you shall see Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of heaven, and you yourselves thrust out. And they shall come from the east, and from the west, and from the north, and from the south, and shall sit down in the king- dom of God.” Luke xiii. 28, 29. Out of which company it is easy to pick such as sometimes were as bad people as any who now breathe on the face of the earth. What think you of the first man, by whose sins there are millions now in hell? And so I may say, What think you of ten thousand more besides? But if the world will not stifle and gag them up — I speak now for amplification-sake— the view of those who are saved shall. There comes an incestuous person to the bar and pleads that the bigness of his sins was a bar to his receiving the promise. But will not his mouth be stopped as to that when Lot and the incestuous Corinthian shall be set before him? Gen. xix. 33-37; 1 Cor. v. 1 , 2 . There comes a thief and says, Lord, my sin of theft, I thought, was such as could not be pardoned by thee. But when he shall see the thief that was saved on the cross stand by, as clothed with beauteous glory, what further can he be able to object? Yea, the Lord will produce ten thousand of his saints at his coming, who shall after this manner execute judgment upon all, “ and so convince all that are ungodly among them of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against him.” Jude 15. And these are hard speeches against him, to say that he was not able or willing to save men because of the greatness of their sins, or to say that they that God is our enemy, and that his justice is against us to our everlasting condemnation by reason of our heinous sins, tends strongly to maintain and increase in us the dominion of sin, causes the soul to hate God, and produces atheistical thoughts to escape wrath ; all which are the dreadful effects of unbelief, which dis- honours God, and would make him a liar. were discouraged by his word from repent- ance because of the heinousness of their offences.* These things, I say, shall then be confuted. He comes with ten thousand of his saints to confute them, and to stop their mouths from making objections against their own eternal damnation. Here is Adam, the destroyer of the world; here is Lot, that lay with both his daughters ; here is Abraham, that was sometimes an idol- ater, and Jacob, that was a supplanter, and Beuben, that lay with his father’s concubine, and Judah, that lay with his daughter-in-law, and Levi and Simeon, that wickedly slew the Sheehemites, and Aaron, that made an idol to be worshipped and that proclaimed a religious feast unto it. Here is also Bahab the harlot, and Bathsheba that bare a bastard to David. Here is Solomon, that great backslider, and Manasseh, that man of blood and a witch. Time would fail to tell you of the woman of Canaan’s daughter, of Mary Magdalen, of Matthew the publican, and of Gideon and Samson, and many thousands more. Alas, alas! I say, what will those sinners do that have, through their unbelief, eclipsed the glorious largeness of the mercy of God, and given way to despair of salvation because of the bigness of their sins? For all these, though now glorious saints in light, were sometimes sinners of the biggest size, who had sins that were of a notorious hue ; but now, I say, they are in their shining and heavenly robes before the throne of God and of the Lamb, blessing for ever and ever that Son of God for their salvation who died for them upon the tree; admiring that ever it should come into their hearts once to think of coming to God by Christ; but, above all, blessing God for granting of them light to see those encouragements in his testament without which, without doubt, they had been daunted and sunk down under guilt of sin and despair, as their fellow-sinners have done. But now they also are all witnesses for God and for his grace against an unbelieving world ; for, as I said, they shall come to con- vince the world of their speeches, their hard * It is no affront to Christ, or slighting and con- temning the holiness and justice of God, to come to Christ while we are polluted sinners : but it is rather an affronting and contemning the saving grace, merit and fulness of Christ if we endeavour to make our- selves righteous and holy before we receive Christ him- self, and all righteousness and holiness in him by faith. 346 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. and unbelieving words, that they have spoken concerning the mercy of God and the merits of the passion of his blessed Son Jesus Christ. But will it not, think you, strangely put to silence all such thoughts, and words, and rea- sonings of the ungodly before the har of God ? Doubtless it will ; yea, and will send them away from his presence also with the greatest guilt that possibly can fasten upon the con- sciences of men.* For what will sting like this? — I have, through mine own foolish, narrow, unworthy, undervaluing thoughts of the love and ability of Christ to save me, brought myself to ever- lasting ruin. It is true, I was a horrible sin- ner ; not one in a hundred did live so vile a life as I ; but this should not have kept me from closing with Jesus Christ: I see now that there are abundance in glory that once were as bad as I have been ; but they were saved by faith, and I am damned by unbelief. Wretch that I am! why did not I give glory to the redeeming blood of Jesus? Why did I not humbly cast my soul at his blessed footstool for mercy? Why did I judge of his ability to save me by the voice of my shallow reason and the voice of a guilty conscience? Why betook not I myself to the holy word of God ? Why did I not read and pray that I might understand, since now I perceive that God said then, “ He giveth liberally to them that pray, and upbraidetli not?” James i. 5. It is rational to think that by such cogita- tions as these, the unbelieving world will be torn in pieces before the judgment of Christ, especially those that have lived where they did or might have heard the Gospel of the grace of God. Oh that saying, “ It shall be more tolerable for Sodom at the judgment than for them,” will be better understood. See Luke x. 8-12. This reason, therefore, standeth fast; namely, that Christ, by offering mercy in the first place to the biggest sinners, now will stop all mouths of the impenitent at the day of judgment, and cut off all excuse that shall be attempted to be made (from the thoughts of the greatness of their sins) why they came not to him. I have often thought of the day of judgment, * Oh remember that till we are enabled to believe in Christ we continue under the power of sin and Satan, and under the wrath of God, and there is nothing but the breath in our nostrils between hell and us! Lin- ger not therefore in this spiritual Sodom, but ask faith of God, who giveth liberally. and how God will deal with sinners at that day; and I believe it will be managed with that sweetness, with that equitableness, with that excellent righteousness, as to every sin, and circumstance, and aggravation thereof, that men that are damned, before the judg- ment is over, shall receive such conviction of the righteous judgment of God upon them, and of their deserts of hell-fire, that they shall in themselves conclude that there is all the reason in the world that they should be shut out of heaven and go to hell-fire; “These shall go away into everlasting fire.” Matt, xxv. 46. Only this will tear them, that they have missed of mercy and glory and obtained ever- lasting damnation through their unbelief. But it will tear but themselves, but their own souls; they will gnash upon themselves; for in that mercy was offered to the chief of them in the first place, and yet they were damned for re- jecting it, they were damned for forsaking what they had a sort of propriety in, for for- saking their own mercy. And thus much for the reasons. I will con- clude with a word of application. The Application. First. Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sin- ners? Then this shows us how to make a right judgment of the heart of Christ to men. Indeed, we have advantage to guess at the goodness of his heart by many things, as by his taking our nature upon him, his dying for us, his sending his word and ministers to us, and all that we might be saved. But this of beginning to offer mercy to Jerusalem is that which heightens all the rest ; for this doth not only confirm to us that love was the cause of his dying for us, but it shows us yet more the depth of that love.f He might have died for us, and yet have extended the benefit of his death to a few, as one might call them, of the best-conditioned sinners — to those who, though they were weak and could not but sin, yet made not a trade of sinning — to those that sinned not lavishingly. There are in the world, as one may call them, the moderate sinners; the sinners that mix righteousness f The word of God abundantly declares and dis- covers that the Lord is desirous poor sinners should be made sensible that he has first loved them, and washed them from their sins by the blood of Christ, that they may offer up the sacrifices of praise and all good works to God, even the Father, by Jesus Christ. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 317 with their pollutions; the sinners that, though they be sinners, do what on their part lies (some that are blind would think so) that they might be saved. I say, it had been love, great love, if he had died for none but such, and sent his love to such; but that he should send out conditions of peace to the biggest sinners, yea, that they should be offered to them first of all, (for so he means when lie says, “Begin at Jerusalem,”) this is wonderful! this shows his heart to purpose, as also the heart of God his Father, who sent him to do thus. There is nothing more incident" to men that are awake in their souls than to have wrong thoughts of God — thoughts that are narrow, and that pinch and pen up his mercy to scanty and beggarly conclusions and rigid legal con- dition — supposing that it is rude and entrench- ing upon his majesty to come ourselves or to invite others until we have scraped and washed and rubbed off as much of our dirt from us as we think is convenient to make us somewhat orderly and handsome in his sight. Such never knew what these words meant, “Begin at Jerusalem.” Yea, such in their hearts have compared the Father and his Son to niggardly rich men, whose money comes from them like drops of blood. True, says such, God has mercy, but is loth to part with it; you must please him well if you get any from him; he is not so free as many suppose, nor is he so willing to save as some pretended Gospellers imagine. But I ask such, If the Father and Son be not unspeakably free to show mercy, why was this clause put into our commission to preach the Gospel? Yea, why did he say, “Begin at Jerusalem”? For when men, through the Weakness of their wits, have attempted to show other reasons why they should have the first proffer of mercy, yet I can prove by many undeniable reasons that they of Jerusalem (to whom the apostles made the first offer, according as they were com- manded) were the biggest sinners that ever breathed upon the face of God’s earth, (set the unpardonable sin aside,) upon which my doc- trine stands like a rock, that Jesus the Son of God would have mercy, in the first place, of- fered to the biggest sinners; and if this doth not show the heart of the Father and the Son to be infinitely free in bestowing forgiveness of sins, I confess myself mistaken. Neither is there (set this aside) another ar- gument like it to show us the willingness of * The design of God is to show the exceeding riches of his grace in our salvation, (Eph. ii. 7,) which is Christ to save sinners; for, as was said before, all the rest of the signs of Christ’s merciful- ness might have been limited to sinners that are so qualified; but when he says, “Begin at Jerusalem,” the line is stretched out to the utmost; no man can imagine beyond it; and it is folly here to pinch and pare, to narrow, and seek to bring it within scanty bounds; for he plainly saith, “ Begin at Jerusalem.” The biggest sinner is the biggest sinner; the biggest is the Jerusalem sinner.* It is true, he saith, that “repentance and re- mission of sins must go together;” but yet re- mission is sent to the chief, the Jerusalem sin- ner; nor doth repentance lessen at all the Je- rusalem sinner’s crimes; it diminisheth none of his sins, nor causes that there should be so much as half a one the fewer: it only puts a stop to the Jerusalem sinner’s course, and makes him willing to be saved freely by grace, and for time to come to be governed by that blessed word that has brought the tidings of good things to him. Besides, no man shows himself willing to be saved that repenteth not of his deeds ; for he that goes on still in his trespasses declares that he is resolved to pursue his own damnation further. Learn, then, to judge of the largeness of God’s heart, and of the heart of his Son Jesus Christ, by the word. Judge not thereof by feeling nor by the reports of thy conscience; conscience is oftentimes here befooled and made to go quite beside the word. It was judging without the word that made David say, I am cast off from God’s eyes, and shall perish one day by the hand of Saul. Ps. xxi. 22 ; 1 Sam. xxvii. 1. The word had told him another thing — namely, that he should be king in his stead. Our text says also that Jesus Christ bids preachers, in their preaching repentance and remission of sins, “Begin first at Jerusalem;” thereby declaring most truly the infinite large- ness of the merciful heart of God and his Son to the sinful children of men. Judge thou, I say, therefore, of the goodness of the heart of God and his Son by this text, and by the other of the same import ; so thou shalt not dishonour the grace of God, nor needlessly fright thyself, nor give away thy faith, nor gratify the devil, nor lose the benefit of his word. I speak now to weak believers. Secondly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy most glorified by pardoning the greatest sinners and raising monuments of praise to the glory jf bis grace. 348 B UN Y AN'S COMPLETE WORKS. offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, to the Jerusalem sinners ? Then by this also you must learn to judge of the sufficiency of the merits of Christ ; not that the merits of Christ can be comprehended, for they are beyond the conceptions of the whole world, being called the unsearchable riches of Christ, but yet they may be apprehended to a consid- erable degree. Now, the way to apprehend them most is to consider what offers, after his resurrection, he makes of his grace to sinners; for to be sure he will not offer beyond the vir- tue of his merits ; because, as grace is the cause of his merits, so his merits are the basis and bounds upon and by which his grace stands good and is let out to sinners.* Doth he then command that his mercy should be offered in the first place to the biggest sinners? It declares that there is sufficiency in his blood to save the biggest sinners. The blood of Je- sus Christ cleanseth from ail sin. And again, “ Be it known unto you, men and brethren, that through this man (this man’s merits) is preached to you the forgiveness of sins, and by him all that believe are justified from all things from which they could not be justified by the law of Moses.” Acts xiii. 38. Observe, then, thy rule to make judgment of the sufficiency of the blessed merits of thy Saviour. If he had not been able to have re- conciled the biggest sinners to his Father by his blood, he would not have sent to them — have sent to them, in the first place, the doc- trine of remission of sins; for remission of sins is through faith in his blood. We are justified freely by the grace of God, through the redemption that is in the blood of Christ. Upon the square, as I may call it, of the worthiness of the blood of Christ, grace acts and offers forgiveness of sin to men. Eph. i. 7 ; ii. 13, 14; Col. i. 20, 21, 22. Hence, therefore, we must gather that the blood of Christ is of infinite value, for that he offereth mercy to the biggest of sinners. Nay, further, since he offereth mercy in the first place to the biggest sinners, considering also that this first act of his is that which the world will take notice of and expect it should be continued unto the end, also it is a disparage- ment to a man that seeks his own glory in * Christ and all his salvation is bestowed as a free gift upon those that do not work to procure any right or title to him, but only believe on Him that justifieth the ungodly. Conditions and qualifications will ever be a partition-wall betwixt the soul and Christ the tomplete Saviour. what he undertakes to do that for a spurt which he cannot continue and hold out in. This is our Lord’s own argument, “He began to build,” saith he, “ but was not able to fin- ish.” Luke xiv. 28, 29, 30. Shouldst thou hear a man say, I am resolved to be kind to the poor, and should begin giv- ing with handfuls of guineas, you would con- clude that either he is wonderful rich, or must straiten his hand, or will soon be at the bottom of his riches. Why this is the case : Christ at his resurrection gave it out that he would be good to the world, and first sends to the biggest sinners with an intent to have mercy on them. Now, the biggest sinners cannot be saved but by abundance of grace ; it is not a little that will save great sinners. Rom. v. 17. And I say again, since the Lord Jesus mounts thus high at the first, and sends to the Jerusalem sinners, that they may come first to partake of his mercy, it follows that either he has un- searchable riches of grace and worth in him- self, or else he must straiten his hand, or his grace and merits will be spent before the world is at an end. But let it be believed, as surely as spoken, he is still as full as ever ; he is not a jot the poorer for all the forgiveness that he has given away to great sinners. Also he is still as free as at first; for he never yet called back this word,f “ Begin at the Jerusalem sin- ners.” And, as I said before, since his grace extended according to the worth of his merits, J conclude that there is the same virtue in his merits to save now as there was at the very beginning. Oh the riches of the grace of Christ ! Oh the riches of the blood of Christ 1 Thirdly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners ? Then here is encouragement for you that think, for wicked hearts and lives, you have not your fellows in the world, yet to come to him. There is a people that therefore fear lest they should be rejected of Jesus Christ because of the greatness of their sins, when, as you see here, such are sent to, sent to by J esus Christ, to come to him for mercy, “Begin at Jerusa- t Oh what a Saviour is Jesus Christ! He is ever- lastingly and unchangeably faithful and true — his salvation infinitely and inexhaustibly free and full ! He is the faithful and true witness; holy, and cannot lie; righteous, and cannot deceive; wise, and cannot be deceived. 0 Israel, trust in the Lord Jehovah Jesus! Rev. iii. ; Isa. xvi. 4. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 349 lem.” Never did one thing answer another more fitly in this world than this text fitteth such kind of sinners. As face answereth face in a glass, so this text answereth the necessi- ties of such sinners. What can a man say more but that he stands in the rank of the big- gest sinners? Let him stretch himself whither he can, and think of himself to the utmost, he can but conclude himself to be one of the big- gest sinners. And what then? Why the text meets him in the very face, and saith, Christ offercth mercy to the biggest sinners, to the very Jerusalem sinners. What more can be objected? Nay, he doth not only offer to such his mercy, but to them it is commanded to be offered in the first place ; “ Begin at Jerusa- lem.” Breach repentance and remission of sins among all nations, “Beginning at Jerusa- lem.” Is not here encouragement for those that think, for wicked hearts and lives, they have not their fellows in the world? Objection. But I have a heart as hard as a rock. Answer. Well, but this doth but prove thee a bigger sinner. Objection. But my heart continually frets against the Lord. Answer. Well, this doth but prove thee a bigger sinner. Objection. But I have been desperate in sin- ful courses. Answer. Well, stand thou with the number of the biggest sinners. Objection. But my gray head is found in the way of wickedness. Answer. Well thou art in the rank of the biggest sinners. Objection. But T have not only a base heart, but I have lived a debauched life. Answer. Stand thou also among those that are called the biggest sinners. And what then? Why the text swoops you all ; you can- not object yourselves beyond the text. It has a particular message to the biggest sinners. I say it swoops you all. Objection. But I am a reprobate. Answer. Now thou talkest like a fool and of that thou understandest not: no sin but the sin of final impenitence can prove a man a reprobate ; and I am sure thou hast not arrived as yet unto that ; therefore thou understandest not what thou sayest, and makest groundless conclusions against thyself. Say thou art a sinner, and I will hold with thee ; say thou art a great sinner, and I will say so too ; yea, say thou art one of the biggest sinners, and spare not ; for the text yet is beyond thee, is yet be- twixt hell and thee. “Begin at Jerusalem” has yet a smile upon thee ; and thou talkest as if thou wast a reprobate, and that the greatness of thy sins do prove thee so to be, when yet they of Jerusalem were not such ; whose sins, I dare say, were such, both for bigness and heinousness, as thou art not capable of com- mitting beyond them, unless now, after thou hast received conviction that the Lord Jesus is the only Saviour of the world, thou shouldst wickedly and despitefully turn thyself from him, and conclude he is not to be trusted to for life, and so crucify him for a cheat afresh. This, I must confess, will bring a man under the black rod and set him in danger of eternal damnation. Heb. vi. G ; x. 29. This is tramp- ling under foot the Son of God and counting his blood an unholy thing. This did they of Jerusalem, but they did it ignorantly in unbe- lief, and so were yet capable of mercy. But to do this against professed light, and to stand to it, puts a man beyond the text indeed. Acts iii. 14-17 ; 1 Tim. i. 13. But I say, what is this to him that would fain be saved by Christ? His sins did, as to greatness, never yet reach to the nature of the sins that the sinners intended by the text had made themselves guilty of. He that would be saved by Christ has an honourable esteem of him, but they of Jerusalem preferred a murderer before him ; but as for him, they cried, Away, away with him ! it is not fit that he should live. Perhaps thou wilt object that thyself hast a thousand times preferred a stink- ing lust before him : I answer, be it so : it is but what is common to men to do; nor doth the Lord Jesus make such a foolish life a bar to thee to forbid thy coming to him, or a bond to his grace that it might be kept from thee, but admits of thy repentance, and offereth himself unto thee freely as thou standest among the Jerusalem sinners. Take therefore encouragement, man. Mercy is, by the text, held forth to the biggest sin- ners; yea, put thyself into the number of the worst, by reckoning that thou rnayest be one of the first, and rnayest not be put off till the biggest sinners are served, for the biggest sin- ners are first invited; consequently, if they come they are like to be the first that shall be served. It was so with Jerusalem : Jerusalem sinners were they that were first invited, and those of them that came first, (and there came three thousand of them the first day they were invited; how many came afterwards none can toll,) they were first served. 350 SUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Put in thy name, man, among the biggest, lest thou art made to wait till they are served. You have some men that think themselves very cunning because they put up their names in their prayers among them that feign it, say- ing, God, I thank thee I am not so bad as the worst. But believe it, if they be saved at all they shall be saved in the last place. The first in their own eyes shall be saved last, and the last or worst shall be first. The text insin- uates it: “Begin at Jerusalem;” and reason backs it, for they have most need. Behold ye, therefore, how God’s ways are above ours ; we are for serving the worst last ; God is for serv- ing the worst first. The man at the pool that to my thinking was longest in his disease, and t most helpless as to his cure, was first healed : yea, he only was healed ; for we read that Christ healed him, but we read not then that he healed one more there. John v. 1, 10. Wherefore, if thou wouldst soonest be served put in thy name among the very worst of sin- ners. Say, when thou art upon thy knees, Lord, here is a Jerusalem sinner, a sinner of the biggest size ; one whose burden is of the greatest bulk and heaviest weight; one that cannot stand long without sinking into hell without thy supporting hand. “ Be not thou far from me, 0 Lord : 0 my strength, haste thou to help me.” I say, put in thy name with Magdalen, with Manasseh, that thou mayest fare as the Mag- dalen and the Manasseh sinners do. The man in the Gospel made the desperate condition of his child an argument with Christ to haste his cure. “Sir, come down,” saith he, “ere my child die,” (John iv. 49,) and Christ regarded his haste, saying, “Go thy way, thy son liveth.” Yer. 50. Haste requires haste. David was for speed; deliver me speedily, hear me speed- ily, answer me speedily. Ps. xxxi. 2 ; Ixix. 17 ; cii. 3. But why speedily ? I am in the net, I am in trouble, my days consume like smoke. Ps. xxxi. 4 : lxix. 17 ; cii. 3. Deep calleth unto deep, necessity calls for help — great neces- sity for present help. Wherefore, I say, be ruled by me in this matter ; feign not thyself another man if thou hast been a filthy sinner, but go in thy colours to Jesus Christ, and put thyself among the most vile, and let him alone to put thee among the children. Jer. iii. 19. Confess all that thou knowest of thyself ; I know thou wilt find it hard work to do thus, especially if thy mind be legal ; but do it, lest thou stay and be de- ferred with the little sinners until the great ones have had their alms. What do you think David intended when he said his wounds stunk and were corrupted, but to hasten God to have mercy upon him and not to defer his cure? “ Lord,” says he, “ I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly, I go mourning all the day long; I am feeble and sore broken by reason of the disquietment of my heart.” Ps. xxxviii. 3-7. David knew what he did by all this; he knew that his making the worst of his case was the way to speedy help, and that a feigning and dissembling the matter with God was the next way to a demur as to his forgiveness. I have one thing more to offer for thy en- couragement who deemest thyself one of ihe biggest sinners, and that is, thou art as it were called by thy name, in the first place, to come in for mercy. Thou man of Jerusalem, hearken to thy call ; men do so in courts of judicature, and presently cry out, Here, sir, and then shoulder and cfowd, and say, Pray give way, I am called into the court. Why, this is the case, thou great, thou Jerusalem sinner; be of good cheer, he calleth thee. Mark x. 46-49. Why sittest thou still ? Arise. Why standest thou still? Come, man,- thy call should give thee authority to come. “ Begin at Jerusalem ” is thy call and authority to come ; wherefore up and shoulder it, man ; say, Stand away, devil, Christ calls me; stand away, unbelief, Christ calls me ; stand away, all ye my dis- couraging apprehensions, for my Saviour calls me to him to receive of his mercy. Men will do thus, as I said, in courts below, and why shouldst not thou approach thus to the court above? The Jerusalem sinner is first in thought, first in commission, first in the record of names, and therefore should give attendance with expectation that he is first to receive mercy of God. Is not this an encouragement to the biggest sinners to make their application to Christ for mercy ? “ Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden,” doth also confirm this thing ; that is, that the biggest sinner, and he that has the biggest burden, is he who is first invited. Christ pointeth over the heads of thousands, as he sits on the throne of grace, directly to such a man, and says, Bring in hither the maimed, the halt, and the blind; let the Jerusalem sinner that stands there be- hind come to me. Wherefore, since Christ says, Come, to thee, let the angels make a lane, and let all men give place, that the Jerusalem sinner may come to Jesus Christ for mercy. Fourthly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 351 offered in the first place to the biggest sinners? Then come, thou profane wretch, and let me a little enter into an argument with thee. Why wilt thou not come to Jesus Christ, since thou art a Jerusalem sinner? How canst thou find in thy heart to set thy self against grace, against such grace as offereth mercy to thee? What spirit possesseth thee and holds thee back from a sincere closure with thy Saviour? Behold God groaningly complains of thee, saying, “ But Israel would none of me. When I called none did answer.” Ps. lxxxi. 11 ; Isa. lxvi. 4. Shall God enter this complaint against thee? Why dost' thou put him off? Why dost thou stop thine car? Canst thou defend thyself? When thou art called to an account for thy neglects of so great salvation, what canst thou answer? Or dost thou think thou slialt escape the judgment? Hcb. ii. 3. No more such Christs ! There will be no more such Christs, sinner! Oh, put not off the day of grace away from thee! If it be once gone, it will never come again, sinner. But what is it that has got thy heart and that keeps it from thy Saviour? “ Who in the heavens can be compared unto the Lord? Who among the sons of the mighty can be likened unto the Lord?” Ps. lxxxix. 6. Hast thou, thinkest thou, found any thing so good as Jesus Christ? Is there any among thy sins, thy companions, aud foolish delights that like Christ can help thee in the day of thy distress? Behold, the greatness of thy sins cannot hinder ; let not the stubbornness of thy heart hinder thee, sinner. Objection. But I am ashamed. Answer. Oh, do not be ashamed to be saved, sinner. Objection. But my old companions will mock me. Ansiver. Oh, do not be mocked out of eternal life, sinner. Thy stubbornness affects, afflicts the heart of thy Saviour. Carest thou not for this ? Of old he beheld the city and w r ept over it. Canst thou hear this and not be concerned? Luke xix. 41, 42. Shall Christ weep to see thy soul going on to destruction, and wilt thou sport thyself in that way ? Yea, shall Christ, that can be eternally happy without thee, be more afflicted at the thoughts of the loss of thy soul than thyself, who art certainly eternally mis- erable if thou neglectest to come to him ? Those things that keep thee and thy Sa- viour, on thy part, asunder are but bubbles ; the least prick of an affliction will let out, as to thee, what now thou thinkest is worth the venture of heaven to enjoy. Hast thou not reason? Canst thou not so much as once soberly think of thy dying hour, or of whither thy sinful life will drive thee then? Hast thou no conscience? or, having one, is it rocked so fast asleep by sin, or made so weary with an unsuccessful calling upon thee, that it is laid down and cares for thee no more ? Poor man ! tliy state is to be lamented. Hast no judgment? Art not able to conclude that to be saved is better than to burn in hell, and that eternal life with God’s favour is better than a temporal life in God’s displeasure ? Hast no affection but what is brutish ? What ! none at all ? no affection for the God that made thee ? what ! none for his loving Son that has showed his love and died for thee? Is not heaven worth thy affection? 0 poor man, which is strongest, thinkest thou, God or thee ? If thou art not able to overcome him, thou art a fool for standing out against him. Matt. v. 25, 26. “ It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.” He will gripe hard, his fist is stronger than a lion’s paw ; take heed of him ; he will be angry if you despise his Son ; and will you stand guilty in your trespasses when he offereth you his grace and favour? Ex. xxxiv. 6, 7 ; Heb. x. 29-31. Now we come to the text, “Beginning at Jerusalem.” This text, though it be now one of the brightest stars that shineth in the Bible, because there is in it as full, if not the fullest offer of grace that can be imagined to the sons of men, yet to them that shall perish from under this word, even this text will be to such one of the hottest coals in hell. This text, therefore, will save thee or sink thee; there is no shifting of it; if it saves thee, it will set thee high ; if it sinks thee, it will set thee low. But, I say, why so unconcerned? Hast no soul? or dost think thou mayest lose thy soul and save thyself? Is it not pity, had it other- wise been the will of God, that ever thou wast made a man, for that thou settest so little by thy soul ? Sinner, take the invitation ; thou art called upon to come to Christ; nor art thou called upon but by order from the Son of God, though thou shouldst happen to come of the biggest sinners, for he has bid us offer mercy, as to all the world in general, so, in the first place, to the sinners of Jerusalem or to the biggest sinners. f B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 352 Fifthly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy of- fered in the first place to the biggest sinners? Then this shows how unreasonable a thing it is for men to despair of mercy. For those that presume, I shall say something to them afterward. I now speak to them that despair. There are four sorts of despair. There is the despair of devils ; there is the despair of souls in hell ; there is the despair that is grounded upon men’s deficiency; and there is the despair that they are perplexed with that are willing to be saved, but are too strongly borne down with the burden of their sins. The despair of devils, the damned’s despair, and that despair that a man has of attaining of life because of his own deficiency, are all reasonable. Why should not devils and damn- ed souls despair ? Y ea, why should not man despair of getting to heaven by his own abili- ties? I therefore am concerned only with the fourth sort of despair — to wit, with the despair of those that would be saved, but are too strongly borne down with the burden of their sins. I say, therefore, to thee that art thus, And why despair? Thy despair, if it were reason- able, should flow from thee because found in the land that is beyond the grave, or because thou certainly knowest that Christ will not or can- not save thee. But for the first, thou art yet in the land of the living ; and for the second, thou hast ground to believe the quite contrary. Christ is able to save to the uttermost them that come to God by him ; and if he were not willing he would not have commanded that mercy, in the first place, should be offered to the biggest sinners. Besides, he hath said, “ And let him that is athirst come, and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely ; ” that is, with all my heart. What ground now is here for despair? If thou sayest, The number and burden of my sins, I answer, Hay, that is rather a ground for faith ; because such an one, above all others, is invited by Christ to come unto him, yea, promised rest and forgiveness if they come. Matt. xi. 28. What ground, then, to despair? Verily, none at all. Thy despair, then, is a thing unreasonable, and without footing in the word. But I have no experience of God’s love; God hath given me no comfort or ground of hope, though I have waited upon him for it many a day. Thou hast experience of God’s love for that he has opened thine eyes to see thy sins, and for that he hath given thee desires to be saved by Jesus Christ. For by thy sense of sin thou art made to see thy poverty of spirit, and that has laid thee under a sure ground to hope that heaven shall be thine hereafter. Also thy desires to be saved by Christ have put thee under another promise, so there is two to hold thee tip in them, though thy pres- ent burden be never so heavy. Matt. v. 3, 6. As for what thou sayest as to God’s silence to thee, perhaps he has spoken to thee once or twdce already, but thou hast not perceived it. Job xxxiii. 14, 15. However, thou hast Christ crucified set forth before thine eyes in the Bible, and an invita- tion to come unto him, though thou be a Je- rusalem sinner, though thou be the biggest sinner ; and so no ground to despair. What if God will be silent to thee : is that ground of despair? Not at all, so long as there is a promise in the Bible that God will in nowise cast away the coming sinner, and so long as he invites the Jerusalem sinner to come unto him. John vi. 37. Build not therefore despair upon these things; they are no sufficient foundation for it, such plenty of promises being in the Bible, and such a discovery of his mercy to great sinners of old; especially since we have withal a clause in the commission given to ministers to preach that they should begin with the Jerusalem sinners in their offering of mercy to the world. Besides, God says, “They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings' like eagles ;” but perhaps it may be long first. “ I waited long,” saitli David, “ and did seek the Lord ;” and at length his cry was heard : w r herefore he bids his soul wait on God, and says for it is good so to do before thy saints. Ps. xl. 1 ; lxii. 5 ; lii. 9. And what if thou waitest upon God all thy days? Is it below thee? And what if God will cross his book and blot out the hand- writing that is against thee, and not let thee know it as yet? Is it fit to say unto God, Thou art hard-hearted? Despair not; thou hast no ground to despair so long as thou livest in this world. It is a sin to begin to despair before one sets his foot over the threshold, of hell-gates. For them that are there, let them despair and spare not, but as for thee, thou hast no ground for to do it. What! despair of bread in a land that is THE JKIl USA LEM SINE Eli SA VET). 353 full of corn? .despair of mercy when our God i« full of mercy? despair of mercy when God goes about by his ministers beseeching of sin- ners to be reconciled unto him? 2 Cor. v. 18 - 20 . Thou scrupulous fool ! where const thou find that God was ever false to his promise, or that he ever deceived the soul that ventured itsell upon him? He often calls upon sinners to trust him, though they walk in darkness and have no light. Isa. 1. 10. They have his promise and oath for their salvation that flee for refuge to the hope set before them. Heb. vi. 17, 18. Despair 1 when we have, a God of mercy and a redeeming Christ alive ! For shame, forbear! Let them despair that dwell where there is no God, and that are confined to those chambers of death which can be reached by no redemption. A living man despair when he is chid for murmuring and complaining I Lam. iii. 39. Oh, so long as we are where promises swarm, where mercy is proclaimed, where grace reigns, and where Jerusalem sinners are privileged with the first offer of mercy, it is a base thing to despair. Despair undervalues the promise, under- values the invitation, undervalues the proffer of grace. Despair undervalues the ability of God the Father and the redeeming blood of Christ his Son. 0 unreasonable despair! Despair makes man God’s judge; it is a controller of the promise, a contradicter of Christ in his large offers of mercy, and one that undertakes to make unbelief the great manager of our reason and judgment in de- termining about what God can and will do for sinners. Despair! It is the devil’s fellow, the devil’s master, yea, the chains with which he is cap- tivated and held under darkness for ever ; and to give way thereto in a land, in a state and time that flows with milk and honey is an un- comely thing. I would say to my soul, 0 my soul! this is not the place of despair ; this is not the time to despair in. As long as mine eyes can find a promise in the Bible, as long as there is the least mention of grace, as long as there is a moment left me of breath or life in this world, so long will I wait or look for mercy, so long will I fight against unbelief and despair. This is the way to honour God and Christ; this is the way to set the crown on the prom- ise ; this is the way to welcome the invitation 23 and inviter; and this is the way to thrust thy- self under the shelter and protection of the word of grace. Never despair so long as our text is alive, for that doth sound it out that mercy by Christ is offered, in the first place, to the biggest sinner. Despair is an unprofitable thing; it will make a man weary of waiting upon God, (2 Kings vi. 33;) it will make a man forsake God, and seek his heaven in the good things of this world. Gen. iv. 13-18. It will make a man his own tormentor, and flounce and fling like a wild beast in a net. Isa. li. 20. Despair! It drives a man to the study of his own ruin, and brings him at last to be his own executioner. 2 Sam. xvii. 23 ; Matt, xxvii. 3, 4, 5. Besides, I am persuaded also that despair is the cause that there are so many that would fain be atheists in the world ; for because they have entertained a conceit that God will never be merciful to them, therefore they labour to persuade themselves that there is no God at all, as if their misbelief would kill God or cause him to cease to be. A poor shift for an immortal soul, for a soul who liketh not to re- tain God in its knowledge ! If this be the best that despair can do, let it go, man, and betake thyself to faith, to prayer, to wait for God, and to hope in despite of ten thousand doubts. And for thy encouragement take yet (as an addition to what has already been said) these following Scriptures : “The Lord takes pleas- ure in them that fear him, in them that hope in his mercy.” Ps. cxlvii. 11. Whence note, they fear not God that hope not in his mercy ; also God is angry with them that hope not in his mercy, for he only taketh pleasure in them that hope. He that believeth or hath received his testimony “ hath set to his seal that God is true,” (John iii. 33,) but he that receiveth it not hatlr made him a liar, and that is a very unworthy thing. 1 John v. 10, 11. “ Let the wicked forsake his ways, and the unrighteous man his thoughts ; and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy on him ; and to our God, for he w ill abundantly multiply pardon.” Isa. Iv. 7. Perhaps thou art weary of thy ways, but art not w r eary of thy thoughts, of thy unbelieving and despairing thoughts. Now r , God also would have thee cast away these, thoughts, as such which he dcserveth not at thy hands, for he will have mercy upon thee, and he will abundantly pardon. “0 fools! and slow T of heart to believe all 354 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. that the prophets haye spoken !” Luke xxiv. 25. Mark you here, slowness to believe is a piece of folly. Ay, but sayest thou, I do be- lieve some, and I believe what can make against me. Ay, but, sinner, Christ Jesus here calls thee fool for not believing all. Be- lieve all, and despair if thou canst. He that believes all believes that text that saith Christ would have mercy preached first to the Jeru- salem sinners. He that believeth all be- lieveth all the promises and consolations of the word ; and the promises and consolations of the word weigh heavier than do all the curses and threatenings of the law, and mercy rejoiceth against judgment. Wherefore be- lieve all, and mercy will to thy conscience weigh judgment down, and so minister com- fort to thy soul. The Lord take the yoke from off thy jaws since he has set meat before thee, (Hos. xi. 4,) and help thee to remember that he is pleased in the first place to offer mercy to the biggest sinners. Sixthly. Since Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners, let souls see that they lay right hold thereof, lest they, notwithstanding, indeed come short thereof. Faith only knows how to deal with mercy; wherefore put not in the place thereof presumption. I have observed that as there are herbs and flowers in our gardens, so there are counterfeits in the field, only they are distinguished from the other by the name of wild ones. Why, there is faith and wild faith; and wild faith is this presump- tion. I call it wild faith, because God never placed it in his garden, his Church; it is only to be found in the field, the world. I also call it wild faith because it only grows up and is nourished where other wild notions abound. Wherefore take heed of this, and all may be well, for this presumptuousness is a very hei- nous thing in the ’eyes of God. “This soul,” saith he, “ that shall do aught presumptuously, (whether born in the land or a stranger,) the same reproacheth the Lord; and that soul shall be cut off from among his people.” Hum. xv. 30. The thoughts of this made David tremble and pray, “That God would hold him back from presumptuous sins, and not strffer them to have dominion over him.” Ps. xix. 13. Now this presumption, then, puts itself in the place of faith when it tampereth with the promise for life while the soul is a stranger to repentance. Wherefore you have in the text, to prevent doing thus, both repentance and re- mission of sins to he offered to Jerusalem; not remission without repentance, for all that re- pent not shall perish, let them presume on grace and the promise while they will. Luke xiii. 1, 2, 3. Presumption, then, is that which severeth faith and repentance, concluding the soul shall be saved by grace, though the man was never made sorry for his sins nor the love of the heart turned therefrom. This is to be self- willed, as Peter has it; and this is a despising the word of God, for that has put repentance and faith together. Mark i. 15. “And because he has despised the word of the Lord and hath broken the commandment, that soul shall utterly be cut off; his iniquities shall be upon him.” Num. xv. 31. Let such therefore look to it who yet are and abide in their sins; for such, if they hope they are to be saved, presume upon the grace of God. Wherefore presumption and not hearkening to God’s word are put together. Deut. xvii. 12. Again: Then men presume when they are resolved to abide in their sins, and yet expect to be • saved by God’s grace through Christ. This is as much as to say, God liketh of sin as well as I do, and careth not how men live if so be they lean upon his Son. Of this sort are they that build up Zion with blood and Jerusalem with iniquity, “that judge for re- ward, and teach for hire, and divine for money, and lean upon the Lord.” Mic. ii. 10, 11. This is doing things with an high hand against the Lord our God, and a taking him, as it were, at the catch ! This is, as we say among men, to seek to put a trick upon God, as if he had not sufficiently fortified his pro- posals of grace by his holy word against all such kind of fools as these. But look to it. Such will be found at the day of God not among that great company of Jerusalem sin- ners that shall be saved by grace, but among those that have been the great abusers of the grace of God in the world. Those that say, Let us sin that grace may abound, and let us do evil that good may come, their damnation is just. And if so, they are a great way off of that salvation that is by Jesus Christ pre- sented to the Jerusalem sinnez’s. I have therefore these things to pi'opound to that Jerusalem sinner that would know if he may be so bold to venture himself upon this grace : 1. Dost thou see thy sins? 2. Art thou weary of them ? TIIE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 355 3. Wouldst thou with all thy heart be saved by Jesus Christ? I dare say no less, I dare say no more. But if it be truly thus with thee, how great soever thy sins have been, how bad soever thou l'eclcst thy heart, how far soever thou art from thinking that God has mercy for thee, thou art the man, the Je- rusalem sinner, that the word of God has con- quered, and to whom it offereth free remission of sins by the redemption that is in Jesus Christ. When the jailer cried out, “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” the answer was, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” He that sees his sins aright is brought to his wits’ end by them, and he that is so is willing to part from them and to be saved by the grace of God. If this be thy case, fear not, give no way to despair; thou presumest not if thou believest to life everlasting in Jesus Christ: yea, Christ is prepared for such as thou art. Therefore take good courage and believe. The design of Satan is to tell the presumptu- ous that their presuming on mercy is good, but to persuade the believer that his believing is impudent, bold dealing with God. I never heard a presumptuous man in my life say that he was afraid that he presumed; but I have heard many an honest, humble soul say that they have been afraid that their faith has been presumption. Why should Satan molest those whose ways he knows will bring them to him ? And who can think that he should be quiet when men take the right course to escape his hellish snares? This therefore is the reason why the truly humble is opposed, while the presumptuous goes on by wind and tide. The truly humble Satan hates, but he laughs to see the foolery of the other. Does thy hand and heart tremble? Upon thee the promise smiles. “ To this man will I look,” says God, “ even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembles at my word.” Isa. lxvi. 2. What, therefore, I have said of presumption concerns not the humble in spirit at all. I therefore am for gathering up the stones and for taking the stumbling-blocks out of the way of God’s people, and forewarning of them that they lay the stumbling-block of their iniquity before their faces, and that for presuming upon God’s mercy ; and let them look to themselves. Ezek. xiv. 6, 7, 8. Also our text stands firm as ever it did, and our observation is still of force, that Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners. So, then, let nono despair, let none presume. Let none despair that arc sorry for their sins, and would be saved by Jesus Christ; let none presume that abide in the liking of their sins, though they seem to know the exceeding grace of Christ; for though the door stands wide open for the re- ception of the penitent, yet it is fast enough barred and bolted against the presumptuous sinner. Be not deceived, God is not mocked ; whatsoever a man sows, that he shall reap. If cannot be that God should be wheedled out of his mercy, or prevailed upon by lips of dis- simulation ; he knows them that trust in him and that sincerely come to him by Christ for mercy. Nah. i. 7. It is, then, not the abundance of sins com- mitted, but the not coming heartily to God by Christ for mercy, that shuts men out of doors. And though their not coming heartily may be said to be but a sin, yet it is such a sin as eauseth that all thy other sins abide upon them unforgiven. God complains of this: “They have not cried unto me with their heart : they turned, but not to the Most High. They turned feignedly.” Thus doing his soul hates ; but the penitent, humble, broken-hearted sinner, be his trans- gressions red as scarlet, red like crimson, in number as the sand, though his transgressions cry to heaven against him for vengeance, and seem there to cry louder than do his prayers or tears or groans for mercy, yet he is safe. “To this man God will look.” Seventhly. Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners? Then here is ground for those that as to prac- tice have not been such to come to him for mercy. Although there is no sin little of itself, be- cause it is a contradiction of the nature ami majesty of God, yet we must admit of divers numbers and also of aggravations. Two sins are not so many as three ; nor are three that are done in ignorance so big as one that is done against light, against knowledge and conscience. Also there is the child in sin, and a man in sin that has his hairs gray and his skin wrinkled for very age. And we must put a difference betwixt these sinners also. For can it be that a child of seven or ten or sixteen years old should be such a sinner, a sinner so vile in the eye of the law, as he who has walked according to the course of this world forty, fifty, sixty, or ?M BUN Y AN'S COMPLETE WORKS. seventy years? Now, tlie youth, this stripling, though he is a sinner, is but a little sinner when compared with such. Now, I say, if there be room for the first sort, for those of the biggest size, certainly there is room for the lesser size. If there be a door wide enough for a giant to go in at, there is certainly room for a dwarf. If Christ Jesus h is grace enough to save great sinners, he has surely grace enough to save little ones. If he can forgive five hundred pence, for certain he can forgive fifty. But you said before that the little sinners must stand by until the great ones have receiv- ed their grace, and that’s discouraging. I answer, There are two sorts of little sin- ners — such as are so, .such as feign themselves so. They are those that feign themselves so that I intend there, and not those that are in- deed comparatively so. Such as feign them- selves so may wait long enough before they obtain forgiveness. But again, a sinner may be comparatively a little sinner and sensibly a great one. There are then two sorts of greatness in sin — great- ness by reason of number, greatness by reason of thoroughness of conviction of the horrible nature of sin. In this last sense he that has but one sin, if such a one could be found, may in his own eyes find himself the biggest sinner in the world. Let this man or this child, therefore, put himself among the great sinners, and plead with God as great sinners do, and expect to be saved with the great sinners, and as soon and as heartily as they. Yea, a little sinner, that comparatively is truly so, if he shall graciously give way to con- viction, and shall in God’s light diligently weigh the horrible nature of his own sins, may yet sooner obtain forgiveness for them at the hands of the heavenly Father than he that has ten times his sins, and so cause to cry ten times harder to God for mercy. Foi the grievousness of the cry is a great thing with God ; for if he will hear the widow if she cries at all, how much more if she cries most grievously? Ex. xxii. 22, 23. It is not the number, but the true sense of the abominable nature of sin, that makes the cry for pardon lamentable. He, as I said, that has many sins may not cry so loud in the ears of God as he that has far fewer; he in our present sense that is in his own eyes the biggest sinner is he that soonest findeth mercy. The offer, then, is to the biggest sinner, to the biggest sinner first ; and the mercy is first obtained by him that first confesseth himself to be such an one. There are men that strive at the throne of grace for mercy by pleading the greatness of their necessity. Now, their plea, as to the prevalency of it, lieth not in the counting up of the number, but in the sense of the great- ness of their sins and in the vehemency of their cry for pardon. And it is observable that though the birthright was Beuben’s, and for his foolishness given to the sons of Joseph, yet Judah prevailed above his brethren, and of him came the Messiah. 1 Chron. v. 1, 2. There is a heavenly subtilty to be managed in this matter. “Thy brother came with sub- tilty and hath taken away thy blessing.” The blessing belonged to Esau, but Jacob by his diligence made it his own. Gen. xxvii. 35. The offer is to the biggest sinner, to the biggest sinner first; but if he forbears to cry, the sin- ner that is a sinner less by far than he, both as to the number and the nature of his trans- gressions, may get the blessing first if he shall have grace to bestir himself well; for the loudest cry is heard farthest, and the most la- mentable pierces soonest. I therefore urge this head, not because I would have little sinners go and tell God that they are little sinners, thereby to think to ob- tain mercy; for verily so they are never like to have it. For such words declare that such an one hath no true sense at all of the nature of his sins. Sin, as I said, in the nature of it is horrible, though it be but one single sin as to act, yea, though it be but a sinful thought, and so worthily calls for the damnation of the soul. The comparison, then, of little and great sinners is to go for good sense among men. But to plead the fewness of thy sins or the comparative harmlessness of their quality be- fore God, argueth no sound knowledge of the nature of thy sin, and so no true sense of the nature or need of mercy. Little sinner, when therefore thou goest to God, though thou knowest in thy conscience that thou, as to acts, art no thief, no murderer, no whore, no liar, no false swearer, or the like, and in reason must needs understand that thus thou art not so profanely vile as others, yet when thou goest to God for mercy know no man’s sins but thine own, make mention of no man’s sins but thine own. Also labour not to lessen thine, own, but magnify and greaten them by all just circumstances, and be as if there was never a sinner in the world but thy- TIIE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 357 self. Also cry out as if thou wast the only undone man ; and that is the way to obtain God’s mercy. It is one of the comeliest sights in the world to see a little sinner commenting upon the greatness of his sins, multiplying and multi- plying them to himself, till he makes them in his own eyes bigger and higher than he seeth any other man’s sins to be in the world ; and as base a thing it is to see a man do otherwise, and as basely will come on it. As therefore I said to the great sinner be- fore, Let him take heed lest he presume, I say now to the little sinner, Let him take heed that he do not dissemble; for there is as great an aptness in the little sinner to dissemble as there is in the great one. “ He that hideth his sins shall not prosper,” be he a sinner little or great. Eighthly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners'? Then this shows the true cause why Satan makes such a head as he doth against him. The Father and the Holy Spirit are well spoken of by all deluders and deceived per- sons. Christ only is the rock of offence. “Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling-stone and a rock of offence.” Not that Satan careth for the Father or the Spirit more than he careth for the Son, but he can let men alone with their notions of the Father and the Spirit; for he knows they shall never enjoy the Father or the Spirit if indeed they receive not the merits of the Son. “ He that hath the Son hath life ; lie that hath not the Son of God hath not life,” however they may boast themselves of the Father and the Spirit. Again, Whosoever transgresseth and abideth not in the doctrine of Christ hath not God : he that abideth in the doctrine of Christ hath both the Father and the Son. Christ, and Christ only, is he that can make us capable to enjoy God with life and joy to all eternity. Hence he calls himself “ the way to the Father, and the true and living way.” For we cannot come to the Father but by him. Satan knows this, therefore he hates him. Deluded persons are ignorant of this, and therefore they are so led up and down by Sa- tan by the nose as they are. There are many things by which Satan has taken occasion to greaten his rage against Je- sus Christ. As, first, his love to man, and then the many expressions of that love. He hath taken man’s nature upon him ; he hath in that na- ture fulfilled the law to bring in righteousness for man, and hath spilt his blood for the re- conciling of man to God ; he hath broken the neck of death, put away sin, destroyed the works of the devil, and got into his own hands the keys of death; and all these are heinous things to Satan. He cannot abide Christ for this. Besides, he hath eternal life in himself, and that to bestow upon us; and we in all likelihood are to possess the very places from which Satan by transgression fell, if not places more glorious. Wherefore he must needs be angry. And is it not a vexatious thing to him that we should be admitted to the throne of grace by Christ, while he stands bound over in chains of darkness to answer for his rebellions against God and his Son -at the terrible day of judgment? Yea, we poor dust and ashes must become his judges, and triumph over him for ever; and all this along of Jesus Christ, for he is the meritorious cause of all this. Now, though Satan seeks to be revenged for this, yet he knows it is in vain to attack the person of Christ: he has overcome him; there- fore he tampers with a company of silly men that he may vilify him by them. And they, bold fools as they are, will not spare to spit in his face. They will rail at his person, and deny the very being of it: they will rail at his blood, and deny the merit and worth of it. They will deny the very end why he accom- plished the law, and by jigs, and tricks, and quirks, which he helpeth them to, they set up fond names and images in his place, and give the glory of a Saviour to them. Thus Satan worketh under the name of Christ, and his ministers under the name of the ministers of righteousness. And by his wiles and stratagems he undoes a world of mep ; but there is a seed, and they shall serve him, and it shall be counted to the Lord for a generation. These shall see their sins and that Christ is the way to happiness. These shall venture themselves both body and soul upon his worthiness. All this Satan knows, and therefore his rage is kindled the more. Wherefore, according to his ability and allowance, he assaulteth, tempt- eth, abuseth, and stirs up what he can to be hurtful to these poor people, that he may. while his time shall last, make it as hard and difficult for them to go to eternal glory as he can. Oftentimes he abuses them with wrong apprehensions of God and with wrong appre- hensions of Christ. He also casts them .into 358 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. tlie mire, to the reproach of religion, the shame of their brethren, the derision of the world, and dishonour of God. He holds our hands while the world buffets us ; he puts bear- skins upon us, and then sets the dogs at us. He bedaubeth us with his own foam, and then tempts us to believe that that bedaubing comes from ourselves. Oh the rage and the roaring of this lion, and the L itred that he manifests against the Loid Jesus, and against them that are pur- chased with his blood ! But yet in the midst of all this the Lord Jesus sends forth his her- ald to proclaim in the nations his love to the world, and to invite them to come in to him for life; yea, his invitation is so large that it offereth his mercy, in the first place, to the biggest sinners of every age, which augments the devil’s rage the more. Wherefore, as I said before, fret he, fume he, the “ Lord Jesus will divide the spoil with this great one : yea, he shall divide the spoil with the strong, because he hath poured out his soul unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors, and bare the sin of many, and made intercession for. the transgressors.” Ninthly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners? Let the tempted harp upon this string for their help and consolation. The tempted, wherever he dwells, always thinks himself the biggest sinner, one most unworthy of eternal life. This is Satan’s master argument : Thou art' a horrible sinner, a hypocrite, one that has a profane heart, and one that is an utter stranger to a work of grace. I say, this is his maul, his club, his masterpiece; he doth with this as some do by their most enchanting songs, sing them everywhere. I believe there are but few saints in the world that have not had this temptation sounding in their ears. But, were tiny but aware, Satan by all this does but drive them to the gate out at which they should go, and so escape his roaring. Saith he, Thou art a great sinner, a horrible sinner, a jjrofane-hearted wretch, one that can- not be matched for a vile one in the country. And all this while Christ says to his minis- ters, Offer mercy in the first place to the big- gest sinners. So that this temptation drives thee directly into the arms of Jesus Christ. Was therefore the tempted but aware he might say, Ay, Satan, so I am, I am a sinner of the biggest size, and therefore I have most need of Jesus Christ; yea, because I am such a wretch, therefore Jesus Christ calls me; yea, he calls me first ; the first proffer of the Gospel is to be made to the Jerusalem sinner; I am he : wherefore stand back, Satan, make a lane; my right is first to come to Jesus Christ. This now will be like for like. This would foil the devil ; this would make him say, I must not deal with this man thus, for then I put a sword into his hand to cut off my head. And this is the meaning of Peter when he saith, “Resist him steadfast in the faith,” and of Paul when he saith, “Take the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.” Wherefore is it said, “Begin at Jerusalem,” if the Jerusalem sinner is not to have the ben- efit of it? And if I am to have the benefit of it, let me call it to. mind when Satan haunts me with the continual remembrance of my sins, of my Jerusalem sins. Satan and my conscience say I am the biggest sinner; Christ offereth mercy in the first place to the biggest sinners. Nor is the manner of the offer other but such as suiteth with my mind. I am sorry for my sin ; yea, sorry at my heart that ever sinful thought did enter or find the least en- tertainment in my wicked mind ; and might I obtain my wish I would never more that my heart should be a place for aught but the grace and Spirit and faith of the Lord Jesus. I speak not this to lessen my wickedness ; I would not for all the world but be placed by mine own conscience in the very front of the biggest sinners, that I might be one of the first that are beckoned by the gracious hand of Jesus the Saviour to come to him for mercy. Well, sinner, thou now speak est like a Christian, but say thus in a strong spirit in the hour of temptation, and then thou wilt, to thy commendation and comfort, quit thyself well. This improving of Christ in dark hours is the life though the hardest j)art of our Chris- tianity. We should neither stop at darkness nor at the raging of our lusts, but go on in a way of venturing and casting the whole of our affair for the next world at the foot of Jesus Christ. This is the way to make the darkness light, and also to allay the raging of our cor- ruption. The first time the passover was eaten was in the night ; and when Israel took courage to go forward, though the sea stood in their way like a devouring gulf, and the hosts of the Egypt- ians followed them at their heels, yet the sea gave place, and their enemies were as still as a stone till they were gone over. THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 359 There is nothing like faith to help at a pinch ; faith dissolves doubts as the sun drives away the mists. And that you may not be put out, know your time, as I said, of believing is always. There are times when some graces may be out of use, but there is no time wherein faith can be said to be so; wherefore faith must be always in exercise. Faith is the eye, is the mouth, is the hand, and one of these is of use all day long. Faith is to sec, to receive, to work, or to eat ; and a Christian should be seeing, or receiving, or working, or feeding all day long. Let it rain, lot it blow, let it thunder, let it lighten, a Christian must still believe. “At what time I am afraid,” said the good man, “ I will trust in thee.” Nor can we have a better encouragement to do this than is by the text set before us, even an open heart for a Jerusalem sinner. And if for a Jerusalem sinner to come, then for such an one when come. If such a one to be saved, then for such an one that is saved. If for such an one to be pardoned his great trans- gressions, then for such an one who is par- doned these — to come daily to Jesus Christ, too, to be cleansed and set free from his com- mon infirmities and from the iniquities of his holy things. Therefore let the poor sinner that would be saved labour for skill to make the best im- provement of the grace of Christ to help him against the temptations of the devil and his sins. Tenthly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sin- ners? I mt those men consider this that have or may in a day of trial have spoken or done what their profession or conscience told them they should not, and that have the guilt and burden thereof upon their consciences. Whether a thing be wrong or right, guilt may pursue him that doth contrary to his con- science. But suppose a man should deny his God or his Christ, or relinquish a good pro- fession and be under the real guilt thereof, shall he therefore conclude he is gone for ever? Let him come again with Peter’s tears, and no doubt but he shall obtain Peter’s for- giveness, for the text includes the biggest sinners. And it is observable that before this clause was put into this commission Peter was par- doned his horrible revolt from his master. Pie that revoltcth in the day of trial, if he is not shot quite dead upon the place, but is sen- sible of his wound and calls out for a surgeon, shall find his Lord at hand to pour wine and oil into his wounds, that he may again be healed, and to encourage him to think that there may be mercy for him. Besides what we find recorded of Peter, you read in the Ads some were through the violence of their trials compelled to blaspheme, and yet are called sinners. Hence you have a promise or two that speaks concerning such kind of men, to en- courage us to think that at least some of them shall come off back to the Lord their God. “Shall they fall,” saith he, “and not arise? Shall they turn away, and not return?” “And in that day I will assemble her that halteth, and I will gather her that was driven out, and her that I have afflicted. And I will make her that halteth a remnant, and her that was cast off a strong nation. And the Lord shall reign over them in Mount Zion for ever.” What we are to understand by her that halteth is best expressed by the prophet Elijah. Mic. iv. 6, 7. I will conclude, then, that for them that have halted or may halt the Lord has mercy in the bank, and is willing to accept them if they return to him again. Perhaps they may never be after that of any great esteem in the house of God, but if the Lord will admit them to favour and forgive- ness, oh exceeding and undeserved mercy ! Thou, then, that mayst be the man, remem- ber this, that there is mercy also for thee, and who will do thee good. But perhaps thou wilt say, He doth not save all revolters, and therefore perhaps not me. Answer. Art thou returning to God? If thou art returning, thou art the man; “Ke- turn, ye backsliding children, and I will heal your backslidings.” Some, as I said, that revolt are shot dead upon the place; and for them, \^ho can help them? But for them that cry out of their wounds, it is a sign they are yet alive, and if they use the means in time doubtless they may be healed. Christ Jesus has bags of mercy that were never yet broken up or unsealed. Hence it is said he has goodness laid up, things re- served in heaven for his. And if he breaks up one of these bags, who can tell what he can do? Hence his love is said to be such as passeth knowledge, and that his riches are unsearch- 360 JBUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. able. He has nobody knows what, for nobody knows who ; he has by him in store for such as seem, in the view of all men, to be gone be- yond recovery. For this the text is plain. What man or angel could have thought that the Jerusalem sinners had been yet on this side of an impossibility of enjoying life and mercy? Hadst thou seen their actions, and what horrible things they did to the Son of God, yea, how stoutly they backed what they did with resolves and endeavours to per- severe, w 7 hen they had killed his person, against his name and doctrine, and that there was not found amopg them all that while, as we read of, the least remorse or regret for these their doings, couidst thou have imagined that mercy would ever have took hold of them, at least so soon? — nay, that they should, of all the world, be counted those only meet to have it offered to them in the very first place? For so my text commands, saying, “ Preach repentance and remission of sins among all nations, beginning at Jerusalem.” I tell you the thing is a wonder, and must for ever stand for a wonder among the sons of men. It stands also for an everlasting invita- tion and allurement to the biggest sinners to come to Christ for mercy. Now since, in the opinion of all men, the revolter is such an one, if he has, as I said before, any life in him, let him take encour- agement to come again, that he may live by Christ; Eleventhly, Would Jesus Christ have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sin- ners ? Then let God’s ministers tell them so. There is an incidence in us, I know not how it doth come about, when we are converted, to contemn them that are left behind. Poor fools as we are, we forget that we ourselves were so ! But would it not become us better, since we have tasted that the Lord is gracious, to carry it towards them so that we may give them con- vincing ground to believe that we have found that mercy which also sets open the door for them to come and partake with us? Ministers, I say, should do thus, both by their doctrine and in all other respects. Austerity doth not become us, neither in doctrine nor in conversation. We ourselves live by grace ; let us give as we receive, and labour to persuade our fellow-sinners, which God has left behind us, to follow after, that they may partake with us of grace. We are saved by grace ; let us live like them that are gracious; let all our things (to the world) be done in charity towards them— pity them, pray for them, be familiar with them for their good. Let us lay aside our foolish, worldly, carnal grandeur ; let us not walk the streets and have such behaviours as signify we are scarce for touching of the poor ones that are left behind — no, not with a pair of tongs. It becomes us not thus to do. Remember your Lord ; he was familiar with publicans and sinners to a proverb. “ Behold a gluttonous man and a wine-bibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.” The first part, con- cerning his gluttonous eating and drinking, to be sure, was an horrible slander, but for the other, nothing was ever spoke truer of him by the world. Now why should we lay hands cross on this text — that is, choose good victuals and love the sweet wine better than the salva- tion of the poor publican? Why not familiar with sinners', provided we hate their spots and blemishes, and seek that they may be healed of them? Why not fellowly with our carnal neigh- bours, if we do take occasion to do so, that we may drop and be yet distilling some good doc- trine upon their souls ? Why not go to the poor man’s house and give him a penny and a Scripture to think upon ? Why not send for the poor to fetch away, at least, the fragments of thy table, that the bowels of thy fellow-sin- ner may be refreshed as well as thine? Ministers should be exemplary, but I am an inferior man, and must take heed of too much meddling. But, might I, I would meddle with them, with their wives, and with their children too. I mean not this of all, but of them that deserve it, though I may not name them. But I say, let ministers follow the steps of their blessed Lord, who by word and deed showed his love to the salvation of the world in such a carriage as declared him to prefer their salvation before his own private concern. For we are commanded to follow Flis steps “ who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth.” And as I have said concerning ministers, so I say to all the brethren, Carry it so that all the world may see that indeed you are the sons of love. Love your Saviour; yea, show one to another that you love him, not only by a seeming love of affection, but with the love of duty. Prac- tical love is best. Many love Christ with nothing but the lick of the tongue. Alas I THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 361 Christ Jesus the Lord must not be put off thus. “ He that hath my commandments and keepeth them,” saith lie, “ he it is that loveth me.” Practical love, which stands in self-denial, in charity to my neighbour, and a patient en- during of affliction for his name, this is counted love. Right love to Christ is that which carries in it a provoking argument to others of the brethren. Heb. x. 24. Should a man ask me how he should know that he loveth the children of God, the best answer I could give him would be in the words of the apostle John. “ By this,” saith be, “ we know we love the children of God, when we love God and keep his commandments.” 1 John v. 2. Love to God and Christ is then shown when we are tender of his name ; and then we show ourselves tender of his name when we are afraid to break any the least of his command- ments. And when we are here, then do we show our love to our brother also. Now, we have obligation sufficient thus to do, for that our Lord loved us and gave him- self for us, to deliver us from death, that we might live through him. The world, when they hear the doctrine that I have asserted and handled in this little book — to wit, that Jesus Christ would have mercy offered in the first place to the biggest sinners — will be apt, because themselves are unbe- lievers, to think that this is a doctrine that leads to looseness and that gives liberty to the flesh; but if you that believe love your brethren and your neighbours truly and as you should, you will put to silence the ignor- ance of such foolish men, and stop their mouths from speaking evil of you. And I say, let the love of Christ constrain us to this. Who deserveth our heart, our mouth, our life, our goods so much as Jesus Christ, who has bought us to himself by his blood to this very end, that we should be a pe- culiar people, zealous of good works? There is nothing more seemly in this world than to see a Christian walk as becomes the Gospel, nor anything more unbecoming a rea- sonable creature than to hear a man say, I be- lieve in Christ, and yet see in his life debauch- ery and profaneuess. Might I, such men should be counted the basest of men; such men should be counted by all unworthy of the name of a Christian, and should be shunned by every good man as such who are the very plague of profession. For so it is written we should carry it towards them. Whoso have a form of godli- ness and deny the power thereof, from such wo must turn away. It has ofttimes come into my mind to ask, By what means is it that the Gospel profession should be so taunted with loose and carnal Gospellers? and I could never arrive to better satisfaction in the matter than this : Such men are made professors by the devil, and so by him put among the rest of the godly. A cer- tain man had a fruitless fig tree planted in his vineyard, but by whom was it planted there? even by him that sowed the tares, his own children, among the wheat, (Luke xiii. 6; Matt. xiii. 37-40,) and that was the devil. But why doth the devil do thus? Not of love to them, but to make of them offences and stum- bling-blocks to others; for he knows that a loose professor in the Church does more mis- chief to religion than ten can do to it that are in the world. Was it not, think you, the devil that stirred up the damsel that you read of in Acts xvi. to cry out, “ These are the servants of the most high God, that show unto us the way of salva- tion?” Yes it was, as is evident, for Paul was grieved to hear it. But why did the devil stir up her to cry so but because that was the rvay to blemish the Gospel, and to make the world think that it came from the same hand as did her soothsaying and witchery? Ver. 16, 17, 18. “Holiness, 0 Lord, becomes thy house for ever.” Let therefore whoever they be that profess the name of Christ take heed that they scan- dal not that profession which they make of him, since he has so graciously offered us, as we are sinners of the biggest size, in the first place, his grace to save us. Having thus far spoken of the riches of the grace of Christ, and of the freeness of his heart to embrace the Jerusalem sinners, it may not be amiss to give you, yet as a caution, an intimation of one thing — namely, that this grace and freeness of his heart are limited to time and day, the which whoso overstandeth shall perish notwithstanding. For as a king who of grace sendeth out to his rebellious people an offer of pardon if they accept thereof by such a day, yet beheadeth or hangeth those that come not in for mercy until the day or time be past, so Christ Jesus has set the sinner a day, a day of salvation, an acceptable time, but he who standeih out or goeth on in rebellion beyond that 362 BTJNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. time is like to come off with the loss of his soul. Since, therefore, things are thus, it may he convenient here to touch a little upon these particulars : 1. That this day or time thus limited, when it is considered with reference to this or that man, is ofttimes undiscerned by the person concerned therein, and always is kept secret as to the shutting up thereof. And this, in the wisdom of God, is thus : to the end no man, when called upon, should put off turning to God to another time. Now and to-day is that, and only that, which is revealed in holy writ. And this shows us the desperate hazards which those men run who, when invitation or conviction attends them, put off turning to God to be saved till another, and, as they think, a more fit season and time. For many by so doing, defer this to do till the day of God’s patience and long-suffering is ended ; and then for their prayers and cries after mercy they receive nothing but mocks, and are laughed at by the God of heaven. 2. Another thing to be considered is this — namely, that the day of God’s grace with some men begins sooner, and also sooner ends, than it doth with others. Those at the first hour of the day had their call sooner than they who were called upon to turn to God at the sixth hour of the day ; yea, and they who were hired at the third hour had their call sooner than they who were called at the eleventh. 1st. The day of God’s patience began with Ishmael, and also ended, before he was twenty years old. At thirteen years of age he was circumcised ; the next year after Isaac was born, and then Ishmael was fourteen years old. Now that day that Isaac was weaned, that day was Ishmael rejected; and suppose that Isaac was three years old before he was weaned, that was but the seventeenth year of Ishmael ; where- fore the day of God’s grace was ended with him betimes. 2dly. Cain’s days ended with him betimes; for after God had rejected him he lived to be- get many children, and build a city, and to do many other things. But, alas ! all that while he was a fugitive and a vagabond ; nor carried he anything with him, after the day of his re- jection was come, but this doleful language in his conscience : “From God’s face shall I be hid.” 3dly. Esau through his extravagancies would needs go to sell his birthright, not fearing (as other confident fools) but that yet the blessing would still be his ; after which he lived many years, but all of them under the wrath of God, as was, when time came, made to appear to his destruction ; for “ when he would have inher- ited the blessing he was rejected, for he found •no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.” Many instances might be given as to such tokens of the displeasure of God against such as fool away, as the wise man has it, the prize which is put into their hand. Prov. xvii. 16. Let these things therefore be a further cau- tion to those that sit under the glorious sound of the Gospel, and hear of the riches of the grace of God in Christ to poor sinners. To slight grace, to despise mercy, and to stop the ear when God speaks, when he speaks such great things, so much to our profit, is a great provocation. He offereth, he calls, he woos, he invites, he prays, he beseeches us, in this day of his grace, to be reconciled to him ; yea, and has pro- vided us the means of reconciliation himself. Now this despising must needs be provoking, and it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God. But some man may say unto me, Fain I would be saved, fain I would be saved by Christ, but I fear his day of grace is past, and that I shall perish, notwithstanding the exceed- ing riches of the grace of God. Answer. To this doubt I would answer sev- . eral things. First, With respect to the day — that is, whether it be ended with a man or no. 1. Art thou jogged, and shaken, and mo- lested at the hearing of the word? Is thy conscience awakened and convinced, then, that thou art at present in a perishing state, and that thou hast need to cry to God for mercy ? This is a hopeful sign that his day of grace is not j)ast with thee ; for usually they that are past grace are also in their conscience past feeling, being “seared with an hot iron.” Consequently those past grace must be such as are denied the awakening fruits of the word preached. “ The dead that hear,” says Christ, “ shall live,” at least while Christ has not quite done with them; the day of God’s patience is not at an end with them. 2. Is there in thy more retired condition arguings, stragglings, and strivings with thy spirit to persuade thee of the vanity of what vain things thou lovest, and to win thee in thy soul to a choice of Christ Jesus and his heav- THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. 363 enly things? Take heed and rebel not, for the day of God’s grace and patience will not be past with thee till lie saitli, “llis Spirit shall strive no more with thee for then the woe comes, when “ he shall depart from them,” and when he says to the means of grace, “ Let them alone.” 3. Art thou visited in the night-seasons with dreams about thy state and that thou art in danger of being lost ? Hast thou heart-shaken apprehensions when deep sleep is upon thee of hell, death, and judgment to come? These are signs that God has not wholly left thee or cast thee behind his back for ever. “ For God speaks once, yea twice, yet man perceiveth it not. In a dream, in a vision of the night, when deep sleep falleth upon men, in slumber- ings upon the bed ; then he openeth the ears of men and sealetli their instruction, that he may withdraw man from his purpose,” (his sinful purpose,) “and hide pride from man.” All this while God has not left the sinner, nor is come to the end of his patience towards him, but stands at least with the door of grace ajar in his hand, as being loth as yet to bolt it against him. 4. Art thou followed with affliction, and dost thou hear God’s angry voice in thy afflictions ? Doth he send with thy affliction an interpreter to show thee thy vileness, and why or where- fore the hand of God is upon thee and upon what thou hast — to wit, that it is for thy sin- ning against him, and that thou mightest be turned to him? If so, thy summer is not quite ended, thy harvest is not quite over and gone. Take heed, stand out no longer, lest he cause darkness, and lest thy feet stumble upon the dark mountains, and lest, while you look for light, he turn it into the shadow of death and make it gross darkness. 5. Art thou cross, disappointed, and way- laid, and overthrown in all thy foolish ways and doings ? This is a sign God has not quite left thee, but that he still waits upon thee to turn thee. Consider, I say, has he made a hedge and a wall to stop thee ? Has he crossed thee in all thou puttest thy hand unto ? Take it as a call to turn to him, for by his thus doing he shows he has a mind to give thee a better portion. For usually, when God gives up men and resolves to let them alone in the broad way, he gives them rope, and lets them have their desires in all hurtful things. Therefore take heed to this also, that thou strive not against this hand of God, but betake thyself to a serious inquiry into the causes of this hand of God upon thee, and incline to think it is because the Lord would have thee look to that which is better than what thou wouldst satisfy thyself withal. When God had a mind to make the prodigal go home to his father, he sent a famine upon him and de- nied him a bellyful of the husks which the swine did eat. And observe it, now he was in his strait he betook him to consideration of the good that there was in his father’s house ; yea, lie resolved to go home to his father, and his father dealt well with him; lie received him with music and dancing because he had re- ceived him safe and sound. 6. Hast thou any enticing touches of the word of God upon thy mind? Doth, as it w'ere, some holy word of God give a glance upon thee, cast a smile upon thee, let fall, though it be but one drop, of his favour upon thy spirit ; yea, though it stays but one moment with thee ? Oh, then the day of grace is not past, the gate of heaven is not shut, nor God’s heart and bowels withdrawn from thee as yet. Take heed therefore, and beware that thou make much of the heavenly gift, and of that good word of God of the which he has made thee taste. Beware, I say, and take heed; there may be a falling away for all this ; but, I say, as yet God has not left thee, as yet he has not cast thee off. Secondly, With respect to thy desires, what are they ? Wouldst thou be saved ? Wouldst thou be saved with a thorough salvation? Wouldst thou be saved from guilt and filth too? Wouldst thou be the servant of thy Saviour ? Art thou indeed weary of the service of thy old master the devil, sin, and the world? And has these desires put thy soul to the flight? Hast thou through desires betaken thyself to thy heels? Dost fly to him that is a Saviour from the wrath to come for life ? If these be thy desires, and if they be unfeigned, fear not. Thou art one of those runaways which God has commanded our Lord to receive, and not to send thee back to the devil thy master again, but to give thee a place in his house, even the place which liketh thee best. “ Thou shalt not deliver to his master,” says he, “ the servant which is escaped from his master unto thee. He shall dwffll with thee, even among you in that place which he shall choose, in one of thy gates where it liketh him best ; thou slialt not oppress him.” This is a command to the Church, conse- quently to the Head of the- Church ; for all commands from God come to her through her 364 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Head : whence I conclude that as Israel of old was to receive the runaway servant who escaped from a heathen master to them, and should not dare to send him back to his master again, so Christ’s Church now, and consequently Christ himself, may not, will not, refuse that soul that has made his escape from sin, Satan, the world, and hell unto him, but .will certainly let him dwell in his house among his saints, in that place which he shall choose, even where it liketh him best. For he says in another place, “ And him that cometli to me I will in nowise cast out.” “In nowise;” let his crimes be what they will, either for nature, multitude, or the attendance of aggravating circumstances. Wherefore if thy desires be firm, sound and unfeigned to become the saved of Christ and his servant, fear not; he will not, he will in nowise, put thee away, or turn thee over to thy old master again. Thirdly, As to thy fears, whatever they are, let that be supposed which is supposed before, and they are groundless, and so of no weight. Objection. But I am afraid I am not elect or chosen to salvation, though you called me a fool a little before for so fearing. Answer. Though election is in order before calling as to God, yet the knowledge of calling must go before the belief of my election as to myself. Wherefore souls that doubt of the truth of their effectual calling do but q>lunge themselves into a deeper labyrinth of confu- sion that concern themselves with their elec- tion; I mean, while they labour to know it before they prove their calling. “ Make your calling and (so your) election sure.” Wherefore, at present lay the thoughts of thy election by, and ask thyself these ques- tions: Do I see my lost condition? Do I see salvation is nowhere but in Christ? Would I share in this salvation by faith in him? And would I, as was said afore, be thoroughly saved — to wit, from the filth as from the guilt? Do I love Christ, his Father, his saints, his words, and his ways? This is the way to prove we are elect. Wherefore, sinner, when Satan or thine own heart seeks to puzzle thee with elec- tion, say thou, I cannot ’tend to talk of this point now, but stay till I know that I am called of God to the fellowship of his Son, and then I will show you that I am elect, and that my name is written in the book of life. If poor distressed souls will observe this order they might save themselves the trouble of an unprofitable labour under these unreason- able and soul-sinking doubts. Let us therefore, upon the sight of our wretchedness, fly and venturously leap into the arms of Christ, which are now open to receive us unto his bosom, as they were when nailed to the cross. This is coming to Christ for life aright: this is right running away from thy master to him, as was said before. And for this we have a multitude of Scrip- tures to support, encourage, and comfort us in our so doing. But now let him that doth thus be sure to look for it, for Satan will be with him to-mor- row, to see if he can get him again to his old service; and if he cannot do that, then will he enter into dispute with him — to wit, about whether he be elect to life, and called indeed to partake of this Christ to whom he fled for succour, or whether he comes to him of his own presumptuous mind. Therefore we are bid so to come, so to arm ourselves with that armour which God has provided, that we may resist, quench, stand against, and withstand all the fiery darts of the devil. If therefore thou findest Satan in this order to march against thee, remember then thou hadst this item about it, and betake thyself to faith and good courage and be sober, and hope to the end. Objection. But how if I should have sinned the sin unpardonable, or that called the sin against the Holy Ghost? Answer. If thou hast, thou art lost for ever; but yet before it is concluded by thee that thou hast so sinned, know that they that would be saved by Jesus Christ through faith in his blood cannot be counted for such. 1. Because of the promise, for that must not be frustrate; and that says, “And him that cometh to Christ he will in nowise cast out.” And again “ Whoso will, let him take of the water of life freely.” But I say, How can these Scriptures be ful- filled if he that would indeed be saved, as be- fore, has sinned the sin unpardonable? The Scriptures must not be made void nor their truth be cast to the ground. Here is a promise and here is a sinner — a promise that says he shall not be cast out that comes; and the sinner comes, wherefore he must be received: conse- quently, he that comes to Christ for life has not, cannot have, sinned that sin for which there is no forgiveness. And this might suffice for an answer to any coming soul that fears, though he comes, that he has sinned the sin against the Holy Ghost. 2. But again, he that has sinned the sin THE JERUSALEM SINNER SAVED. against the Holy Ghost cannot come, 1ms no heart to come, can by no means be made will- ing to come, to Jesus Christ for life, for that he has received such an opinion of him and of his things as deters and holds him back. 1st. He counteth this blessed person, this Son of God, a magician, a conjurer, a witch, or one that did, when he was in the world, what he did by the power and spirit of the devil. Now he that has this opinion of this Jesus cannot be willing to cast himself at his feet for life, or to come to him as the only way to God and to salvation. And hence it is said again that such an one puts him to open shame and treadeth him underfoot; that is, by con- temning, reproaching, vilifying, and despising of him, as if he were the vilest one or the greatest cheat in the world; and has therefore, as to his esteem of him, called him accursed, crucified him to himself, or counted him one hanged as one of the worst of malefactors. 2dlv. His blood, which is the meritorious cause of man’s redemption, even the blood of the everlasting covenant, he counteth an un- holy thing, or that which lias no more virtue in it to save a soul from sin than has the blood of a dog. For when the apostle says he counts it an unholy thing, he means he makes it of less value than that of a sheep or a cow, which were clean according to the law; and there- fore must mean that his blood was of no more worth to him in his account than was the blood of a dog, an ass, or a swine, which always was, as to sacrifice, rejected by the God of heaven as unholy or unclean. Now, he who has no better esteem of Jesus Christ and of his death and blood will not be persuaded to come to him for life or to trust in him for salvation. 3dly. But further, all this must be done against manifest tokens to prove the contrary, or after the shining of Gospel light upon the soul, or some considerable profession of him as the Messias, or that he was the Saviour of the world. 1st. It must be done against manifest tokens to prove the contrary ; and thus the reprobate Jews committed it when they saw the works of God which put forth themselves in him, and called them the works of the devil and Beelzebub. 2dly. It must be done against some shining light of the Gospel upon them. And thus it was with Judas, and with those who, after they were enlightened and had tasted and had felt something of the powers of the world to come, 365 fell away from the faith of him and put him to open shame and disgrace. 3dly. It must also be done after and in op- position to one’s own open profession of him. “For if after they have escaped the pollution of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, they are again entangled therein and overcome, the latter end is worse with them than the beginping; for it had been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness than after they have known it to turn from the holy commandment (which is the word of faith) delivered unto them.” 4thly. All this must be done openly, before witnesses, in the face, sight, and view of the world, by word and act. This is the sin that is unpardonable ; and he that hath thus done can never, it is impossible he ever should, bo renewed again to repentance ; and that for a double reason, for such an one doth say he will not, and of him God says lie shall not, have the benefit of salvation by him. Objection. But if this be the sin unpardon- able, why is it called the sin against the Holy Ghost, and not rather the sin against the Son of God? Answer. It is called “the sin against the Holy Ghost” because such count the works which he did, which were done by the Spirit of God, the works of the spirit of the devil. Also because all such as so reject Christ Jesus the Lord, they do it in despite of that testimony which the Holy Ghost has given of him in the holy Scriptures ; for the Scriptures are the breathings of the Holy Ghost, as in all other things, so in that testimony they bear of the person, of the works, sufferings, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ. Sinner, this is the sin against the Holy Ghost. What sayest thou? Hast thou com- mitted it ? Nay, I know thou hast not if thou wouldst be saved by Christ ; yea, it is impossi- ble thou shouldst have done it if indeed thou wouldst be saved by him. No man can desire to be saved by Him whom lie yet judgeth to be an impostor, a magician, a witch. No man can hope for redemption by that blood which he yet counteth an unholy thing. Nor will God ever suffer such an one to repent who has, after light and profession of him, thus horribly and devil-like contemned and trampled upon him. True, words, and wars, and blasphemies against this Son of man are pardonable, but then they must be done ignorantly and in un- 366 BTJNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. belief. Also all blasphemous thoughts are likewise such as may be passed by, if the soul afflicted with them indeed is sorry for them. All but this, sinner, all but this! If God had said he will forgive one sin, it had been undeserved grace ; but when he says he will pardon all but one, this is grace to the height, nor is that one unpardonable otherwise but because the Saviour that should save them is rejected and put away. We read of Jacob’s ladder; Christ is Jacob’s ladder that reacheth up to heaven, and he that refuses to go by this ladder thither will scarce by other means get up so high. There is none other name given under heaven among men whereby we must be saved. There is none other sacrifice for sin than his ; he also, and he only, is the Mediator that recon- cileth men to God. And, sinner, if thou wouldst be saved by him, his benefits are thine ; yea, though thou art a great and Jerusalem transgressor. OLY WAR, MADE BY SHADDAI UPON DIABOLUS, FOR THE REGAINING THE METROPOLIS OF THE WORLD ; OR THE LOSING AND TAKING AGAIN OF THE TOWN OF MANSOUL. I have used similitudes. — Hosea xii. 10. TITE II THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE. Some say the Pilgrim’s Progress is not mine, Insinuating as if I would shine In name and fame by the worth of another, Like some made rich by robbing of their brother; Or, that so fond I am of being sire, I’ll father bastards ; or, if need require, I’ll tell a lie in print to get applause. I scorn it: John such dirt-heap never was Since God converted him. Let this suffice To show why I my Pilgrim patronize. It came from mine own heart, so to my head, And thence into my fingers trickled; Then to my pen, from whence immediately On paper I did dribble it daintily. Manner and matter too was all mine own, Nor was it unto any mortal known Till I had done it. Nor did any then, By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen, Add five words to it, or write half a line Thereof: the whole and every whit is mine. Also for this thine eye is now upon, The matter in this manner came from none But the same heart and head, fingers and pen As did the other. Witness all good men : For none in all the world, without a lie, Can say that this is mine, excepting I. I write not this of any ostentation, Nor ’cause I seek of men their commendation ; I do it to keep them from such surmise, As tempt them will my name to scandalize. TO THE EEADEE. ■’Tis strange to me that they that love to tell Things done of old, yea, and that do excel Their equals in historiology, Speak not of Mansoul’s wars, but let them lie Dead like old tables, or such worthless things That to the reader no advantage brings; When men, let them make what they will their own, Till they know this are to themselves unknown. Of stories I well know there’s divers sorts ; Some foreign, some domestic ; and reports Are thereof made as fancy leads the writers, (By books a man may guess at the inditers.) Some will again of that which never was, Nor will be, feign (and that without a cause) Such matter, raise such mountains, tell such things Of men, of laws, of countries and of kings, And in their story seem to be so sage, And with such gravity clothe every page, That though their frontispiece says all is vain, Yet to their way disciples they obtain. But, readers, I have somewhat else to do Than with vain stories tlrus to trouble you ; What here I say some men do know so well They can with tears and joy the story tell. The town of Mansoul is well known to many, Nor are her troubles doubted of by any That are acquainted with those histories That Mansoul and her wars anatomize. 367 368 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Then lend thine ear to what I do relate Touching the town of Mansoul and her state ; How she was lost, took captive, made a slave, And how against him set that should her save. Yea, how by hostile ways she did oppose Her Lord, and with his enemy did close. For they are true ; him that will them deny Must needs the best of records vilify. For my part, I myself was in the town, Both when ’twas set up and when pulling down ; I saw Diabolus in his possession, And Mansoul also under his oppression. Yea, I was there when she owned him for lord, And to him did submit with one accord. When Mansoul trampled upon things divine, And wallowed in filth as doth a swine, When she betook herself unto her arms, Fought her Emmanuel, despis’d his charms, Then I was there, and did rejoice to see Diabolus and Mansoul so agree. Let no man then count me a fable-maker, Nor make my name or credit a partaker Of their derision : what is here in view Of mine own knowledge I dare say is true. I saw the Prince’s armed men come down By troops, by thousands, to besiege the town. I saw the captains, heard the trumpets sound, And how his forces covered all the ground. Yea, how they set themselves in battle-’ray I shall remember to my dying day. I saw the colours waving in the wind, And they within to mischief how combin’d To ruin Mansoul, and to make away ILer prirnum mobile without delay. I saw the mounts cast up against the town, And how the slings were placed to beat it down ; I heard the stones fly whizzing by mine ears, (What’s longer kept in mind than got in fears?) I heard them fall, and saw what work they made, And how old Mars did cover with his shade The face of Mansoul ; and I heard her cry, Woe worth the day ! in dying I shall die. I saw the battering-rams, and how they play’d To bext ope Ear-gate, and I was afraid, Not only Ear-gate, but the very town, Would by those battering-rams be beaten down. I saw the fights, and heard the captains’ shout, And in each battle saw who faced about ; I saw who wounded were, and who were slain, And who when dead would come to life again. I heard the cries of those that wounded were, (While others fought like men bereft of fear ;) And while the cry, Kill, kill! was in mine ears The gutters ran not so with blood as tears. Indeed the captains did not always fight, But then they would molest us day and night : Their cry, Up, fall on, let us take the town ! Kept us from sleeping or from lying down. I was there when the gates were broken ope, And saw how Mansoul then was stript of hope. I saw the captains march into the town, How there they fought and did their foes cut down. I heard the Prince bid Boanerges go Up to the castle and there seize his foe ; And saw him and his fellows bring him down, In chains of great contempt, quite through the town. I saw Emmanuel when he possess’d His town of Mansoul, and how greatly bless’d A town this gallant town of Mansoul was When she receiv’d his pardon, lov’d his laws. When the Diabolonians were caught, When tried, and when to execution brought, Then I was there ; yea, I was standing by When Mansoul did the rebels crucify. H also saw Mansoul clad all in white, And heard her Prince call her his heart’s delight; I saw him put upon her chains of gold, And rings and bracelets, goodly to behold. What shall I say ? I heard the people’s cries, And saw the Prince wipe tears from Mansoul’s eyes ; I heard the groans and saw the joy of many. Tell you of all I neither will nor can I ; But by what here I say you well may see That Mansoul’s matchless wars no fables be. Mansoul the desire of both princes was — One keep his gain would, t’other gain his loss : Diabolus would cry, The town is mine ; Emmanuel would plead a right divine Unto his Mansoul; then to blows they go, And Mansoul cries, These wars will me undo. Mansoul ! her wars seemed endless in her eyes ; She’s lost by one, becomes another’s prize, And he again that lost her last would swear, Have her I will, or her in pieces tear. Mansoul ! it was the very seat of war, Wherefore her troubles greater were by far Than only where the noise of war is heard, Or where the shaking of a sword is fear’d, Or only where small skirmishes are fought, Or where the fancy fighteth with a thought. She saw the swords of fighting-men made red, And heard the cries of those with them wounded : Must not their frights then be much more by far Than theirs who to such doings strangers are, Or theirs that hear the beating of a drum, But not made fly for fear from house or home? Mansoul not only heard the trumpets sound, But saw her gallants gasping on the ground ; Wherefore we must not think that she could rest With them whose greatest earnest is but jest; Or where the blust’ring threat’ning of great wars Do end in parleys or in wordy jars. Mansoul ! her mighty wars they did portend Ller weal or woe, and that world without end ; THE HOLY WAR. 3G9 Wherefore she must be more concern’d than they Whose fears begin and end the selfsame day, Or where none other harm doth come to him That is engag’d but loss of life or limb, As all must needs confess that now do dwell In Universe, and can this story tell. Count me not then with them that to amaze The people set them on the stars to gaze, Insinuating with much confidence That each of them is now the residence Of some brave creatures; yea, a world they will Have in each star, though it be past their skill To make it manifest to any man That reason hath or tell his fingers can. 24 But I have too long lit Id thee in the porch, And kept thee from the sunshine with a torch. Well, now, go forward, step within the door, And there behold five hundred times much more Of all sorts of such inward rarities As please the mind will, and will feed the eyes ; With those which, if a Christian, thou wilt see Not small, but things of greatest moment be. Nor do thou go to work without my key, (In mysteries men soon do lose their way ;) And also turn it right, if thou wouldst know My riddle, and wouldst with my heifer plough. It lies there in the window : fare thee well ; My next may be to ring thy passing bell. JOHN BUNYAN. THE HOLY WAR. Iff my travels, as I walked through many re- gions and countries, it was my chance to hap- pen into that famous continent of Universe. A very large and spacious country it is. It lieth between the two poles, and just amidst the four points of the heavens. It is a place well watered and richly adorned with hills and valleys, bravely situate; and for the most part (at least where I was) very fruitful, also well peopled and a very sweet air. The people are not all of one complexion, nor yet of one language, mode, or way of re- ligion ; but differ as much, it is said, as do the planets themselves. Some are right, and some are wrong, even as it happeneth to be in lesser regions. In this country, as I said, it was my lot to travel, and there travel I did, and that so long, even till I learned much of their mother tongue, together with the customs and man- ners of them among whom I was. And to speak the truth, I was much delighted to see and hear many things which I saw and heard among them ; yea, I had, to he sure, even lived and died among them (so was I taken with them and their doings) had not my Master sent for me home to his house, there to do busi- ness for him and to oversee business done. Now there is in this gallant country of Uni- verse a fair and delicate town, a corporation, called Mansoul — a town for its buildings so curious, for its situation so commodious, for its privileges so advantageous — -I mean with ref- erence to its original — that I may say of it, as was said before of the continent in which it is placed, there is not its equal under the whole heaven. As to the situation of this town, it lieth just between the two worlds, and the first founder and builder of it, so far as by the best and most authentic records I can gather, was one Shaddai, and he built it for his own delight. He made it the mirror and glory of all that he made, even the top-piece beyond anything else that he did in that country : yea, so goodly 370 a town was Mansoul when it was first built that it is said by some the gods, at the setting up thereof, came down to see it and sang for joy. And as he made it goodly to behold, so also mighty to have dominion over all the country round about. Yea, all were com- manded to acknowledge Mansoul for their metropolitan; all were enjoined to do homage to it; ay, the town itself had positive commis- sion and power from her King to demand ser- vice of all, and also to subdue any that any- wise denied to do it. There was reared up in the midst of this town a most famous and stately palace ; for strength it might he called a castle ; for pleas- antness, a paradise ; for largeness, a place so copious as to contain all the world. This jjlace the King Shaddai intended for himself alone, and not another with him ; partly because of his own delights, and partly because he would not that the terror of strangers should be upon the town. This place Shaddai made also a garrison of, but committed the keeping of it only to the men of the town. The wall of the town was well built ; yea, so fast and firm was it knit and compact together that had it not been for the townsmen them- selves, they could not have been shaken ot broken for ever. For here lay the excellent wisdom of him that built Mansoul, that the walls could never be broken down nor hurt by the most mighty adverse potentates unless the townsmen gave consent thereto. This famous town of Mansoul had five gates in at which to come, out at which to go ; and these were made likewise answerable to the walls — to wit, impregnable, and such as could never be opened or forced hut by the will and leave of those within. The names of the gates were these : Ear-gate, Eye-gate, Mouth-gate, Nose-gate, and Feet-gate. Other things there were that belonged to the town of Mansoul, which if you adjoin to these will yet give further demonstration to THE HOLY WAR. 371 nil of the glory niul strength of the place. It had always a sufficiency of provisions within its walls ; it had the best, most wholesome and excellent law that then was extant in the world. There was not a rascal, rogue, or traitorous person then within its walls; they were all true men, and fast joined together, and this, you know, is a great matter. And to all these it had always (so long as it had the goodness to keep true to Shaddai the King) his countenance, his protection, and it was his delight, Sic. Well, upon a time there was one Diabolus, a mighty giant, made an assault upon this famous town of Mansoul to take it and make it his own habitation. This giant was king of the dark regions, and a most raving prince he was. We will, if you please, first dis- course of the original of this Diabolus, and then of his taking of this famous town of Mansoul. This Diabolus is indeed a grand and mighty prince, aud yet both poor and beggarly. As to his original, he was at first one of the ser- vants of King Shaddai, made, and taken, and put by him into most high and mighty place; yea, was put into such principalities as be- longed to the best of his territories and do- minions. This Diabolus was made son of the morning, and a brave place he had of it; it brought him much glory and gave him much brightness, an income that might have con- tented his Luciferian heart, had it not been insatiable and enlarged as hell itself. Well, he seeing himself thus exalted to greatness and honour, and raging in his mind for higher state and degree, what doth he but begin to think with himself how he might be set up as Lord over all, and have the sole power under Shaddai. (Now that did the King reserve for his Son, yea, and had al- ready bestowed it upon him.) Wherefore, he first, consults with himself what had best to be done, and then breaks his mind to some other of his companions, to the which they also agreed. So in fine they came to this issue, that they should make an attempt upon the King’s Son to destroy him, that the in- heritance might be theirs. Well, to be short, the treason, as I said, was concluded, the time appointed, the word given, the rebels ren- dezvoused, and the assault attempted. Now the King and his Son, being all and always eye, could not but discern all passages in his dominions ; and he having always love for his Son as for himself, could not, at what he saw, but be greatly provoked and offended ; where fore what does lie but takes them in the very nick, and the first trip that they made toward tlicir design convicts them of their treason, horrid rebellion, and conspiracy that they had devised and now attempted to put into prac- tice, and casts them all together out of all place of trust, benefit, honour, and preferment. This done, he banishes them the court, turns them down into the horrible pits, as fast bound in chains, never more to expect the least favour from his hands, but to abide the judg- ment that he had appointed, and that for ever and ever. Now, they being thus cast out of all place of trust, profit, and honour, and also knowing that they had lost their prince’s favour for ever, being banished his courts and cast down to the horrible pits, you may be sure they would now add to their former pride what malice and rage against Shaddai, and against his Son, they could. Wherefore, roving and ranging in much fury from place to place, (if perhaps they might find something that was the King’s, to revenge, by spoiling of that, themselves on him,) at last they happened into this spacious country of Lhiiverse, and steer their course towards the town of Man- soul ; and considering that that town was one of the chief works and delights of King Shad- dai, what do they but, after counsel taken, make an assault upon that : I say, they knew that Mansoul belonged unto Shaddai, for they were there when he built it and beautified it for himself. So when they bad found the place they shouted horribly for joy, and roared oh it as a lion upon the prey, saying, Now we have found the prize and how to be revenged on King Shaddai for what he hath' done to us. So they sat down and called a council of war, and considered with them- selves what ways, and methods they had best to engage in for the winning to themselves this iamous town of Mansoul; and these four things were, then propounded to be consid- ered of : 1. Whether they had best, all of them, to show themselves in this design to the town of Mansoul ? 2. Whether they had best to go and sit down against Mansoul in their now ragged and beggarly guise? 3. Whether they had best show to Mansoul their intentions and what design they came about, or whether to assault it with words and ways of deceit? 372 PUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 4. Whether they had not best, to some of their companions, give out private orders to take the advantage, if they see one or more of the principal townsmen, to shoot them, if thereby they should judge their cause and design will the better be promoted? It was answered to the first of these pro- posals in the negative — to wit, that it would not be best that all should show themselves before the town, because the appearance of many of them might alarm and fright the town ; whereas a few', or but one of them, was not likely to do it. And to enforce this advice to take place, it was added further that if Mansoul was frightened or did take the alarm, it is impossible, said Diabolus, (for he spake now,) that we should take the town, for that none can enter into it without its own con- sent. Let therefore but few or but one assault Mansoul, and in mine opinion, said Diabolus, let me be he. Wherefore to this they all agreed ; and Then to the second proposal they came — namely, Whether they had best to go and sit dowm before Mansoul in their now ragged and beggarly guise? To which it was . answered also in the negative, By no means ; and that because, though the town of Mansoul had been made to know, and to have to do before now, with things that are invisible, they did never as yet see any of their fellow- creatures in so sad and rascally a condition as they. And this was the advice of that tierce Alecto. Then said Apollyon, The advice is pertinent; for even one of us, appearing to them as we are now, must needs both beget and multiply such thoughts in them as will both put them into a consternation of spirit, and necessitate -them to put themselves upon their guard; and if so, said he, then, as my Lord Alecto said but now, it is in vain for us to think of taking the town. Then said that mighty giant Beel- zebub, The advice that already is given is safe, for though, the men of Mansoul have seen such things as we once w'ere, yet hitherto they did never behold such things as we now are; and it is best, in mine opinion, to come upon them in such a guise as is common to and most fa- miliar among them. To this when they had consented, the next thing to be considered was, in what shape, hue, or guise Diabolus had best to show himself when he went about to make Mansoul his own. Then one said one thing, and another the contrary; at last, Lucifer answered that in his opinion it was best that his lordship should assume the body of some of those creatures that they of tne town had dominion over; for, quoth he, these are not only familiar to them, but being under them they will never imagine that an attempt should by them be made upon the town ; and to blind all, let him assume the body of one of those beasts that Mansoul deems to be wiser than any of the rest. This advice was applauded of all; so it w'as determined that the giant Diabolus should assume the dragon, for that he was in those days as familiar with the town of Mansoul as now is the bird with the boy. For nothing that was in its primi- tive state was at all amazing to them. Then they proceeded to the third thing, which' was, Whether they had best to show their intentions or the design of his coming to Mansoul or no ? This also was answered in the negative, because of the weight that was in the former reasons — to wit, for that Man- soul were a strong people, a strong people in a strong town, whose wall and gates were im- pregnable, (to say nothing of their castle,) nor can they by any means be won but by their own consent. Besides, said Legion, (for he gave answer to this,) a discovery of our inten- tions may make them send to their King for aid, and if that be done I know quickly what time of day it will be with us. Therefore let us assault them in all pretended fairness, cov- ering of our intentions with all manner of lies, flatteries, delusive words, feigning of things that never will be, and promising of that to them that they shall never find. This is the way to win Mansoul, and to make them of themselves to open their gates to us ; yea, and to desire us too to come in to them. And the reason why I think that this project will do is, because the people of Mansoul now are every one simple and innocent, and all honest and true ; nor do they as yet know what it is to be as- saulted with fraud, guile and hypocrisy. They are strangers to lying and dissembling lips ; wherefore we cannot, if thus we be disguised, by them at all be discerned ; our lies shall go for true sayings, and our dissimulations for up- right dealings. What we promise them they will in that believe us, especially if in all our lies and feigned words we pretend great love to them, and that our design is only their advan- tage and honour. Now there was not one bit of reply against this; this went as current down as doth the water down a steep descent. Wherefore they go to consider of the last proposal, which was, AVhether they had not best to give out orders to some of their com- THE HOLY WAR. 373 puny to shoot some one or more of the princi- pal of the townsmen, if they judge that their cause may be promoted thereby? This was carried in the ailirmative, and the man that was designed by this stratagem to be destroyed was one Mr. Resistance, otherwise called Cap- tain Resistance. And a great man in Mansoul tins Captain Resistance was, and a man that the giant Diabolus and his band more feared than they feared the whole town of Mansoul besides. Now who should be the actor to do the murder? That was the next : and they ap- pointed one Tisiphone, a fury of the lake, to do it. They thus having ended their council of war, rose up and assayed to do as they had deter- mined: they marched towards Mansoul, but all in a manner invisible, save one, only one; nor did he approach the town in his own like- ness, but under the shape and in the body of a dragon. So they drew up and set down before Ear-gate, for that was the place of hearing for all without the town, as Eye-gate was the place of perspectiou. So, as I said, he came up with his train to the gate, and laid his ambuscado for Captain Resistance within bowshot of the town. This done, the giant ascended up close to the gate and called to the town of Mansoul for audience. Nor took he any with him but one Ill-pause, who was his orator in all diffi- cult matters. Now, as I said, he being come up to the gate, (as the manner of those times was,) sounded his trumpet for audience. At which the chief of the town of Mansoul, such as my Lord Innocent, my Lord Will-be-will, my lord mayor, Mr. Recorder, and Captain Resistance, came down to the wall to see who was there and what was the matter. And my Lord Will-be-will, when he had looked over and saw who stood at the gate, demanded what he was, wherefore he was come, and why he roused the town of Mansoul with so unusual a sound ? Diabolus then, as if he had been a lamb, began his oration and said : Gentlemen of the famous town of Mansoul, I am, as you may perceive, no far dweller from you, but near, and one that is bound by the King to do you my homage and what service I can ; wherefore, that I may be faithful to myself and to you, I have somewhat of concern to impart unto you. Wherefore grant me your audience and hear me patiently. And first, I will assure you, it is not myself, but you ; not mine, but your ad- vantage that I seek by what I now do, as will full well be made manifest by that I have opened my mind unto you. For, gentlemen, I am, to tell you the truth, come to show you how you may obtain great and ample deliver- ance from a bondage that, unawares to your- selves, you are captivated and en laved under. At this the town of Mansoul began to prick up its ears: And what is it, pray, what is it? thought they. And he said, I have somewhat to say to you concerning your King, concern- ing his law, and also touching yourselves. Touching your King, I know he is a great and potent, but yet all that he hath said to you is neither true nor yet for your advantage. 1. It is not true, for that wherewith he hath hitherto awed you shall not come to pass nor be ful- filled, though you do the thing that he hath forbidden. But if there was danger, what a slavery it is to live always in fear of the great- est of punishments for doing so small and trivial a thing as eating of a little fruit is ! 2. Touch- ing his laws, this I say further, they are both unreasonable, intricate, and intolerable — un- reasonable, as was hinted before, for that the punishment is not proportioned to the offence. There is great difference and disproportion be- twixt the life and an apple, yet the one must go for the other by the law of your Shaddai. But it is also intricate, in that he saith, first, you may eat of all, and yet after forbids the eating of one. And then, in the last place, it must needs be intolerable, forasmuch as that fruit which you are forbidden to eat of (if you are forbidden any) is that, and that alone, which is able by your eating to minister to you a good as yet unknow'n by you. This is mani- fest by the very name of the tree ; it is called “ the tree of knowledge of good and evil ; ” and have you that knowledge as yet ? No, no, nor can you conceive how good, how pleasant, and how T much to be desired to make one wise it is, so long as you stand by your King’s com- mandment. Why should yon be holden i n 0 ignorance and blindness? Why should you not be enlarged in knowledge and understand- ing? And now, ah ! ye inhabitants of the famous town of Mansoul, to speak more par- ticularly to yourselves, you are not a free peo- ple : you are kept both in bondage and slavery, and that by a grievous threat, no reason being annexed but So I w ill have it, so it shall be. And is it not grievous to think on, that that very thing that you are forbidden to do, might you but do it, would yield you both wisdom and honour? for then your eyes will be opened and you shall be as gods. Now, since this is thus, quoth he, can you be kept by any prince 374 1] UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. in more slavery and in greater bondage than you are under this day? You are made un- derlings and are wrapt up in inconveniences, as I have well made appear. For what bond- age greater than to be kept in blindness? Will not reason tell you that it is better to have eyes than to be without them, and so be at liberty to be better than to be shut up in a dark and stinking cave? And just now, while Diabolus was speaking these words to Mansoul, Tisiphone shot at Captain Resistance where he stood on the gate, and mortally wounded him in the head; so that he to the amazement of the townsmen and the encouragement of Diabolus, fell down quite dead over the wall. Now, when Captain Resistance was dead, (and he was the only man of war in the town,) poor Mansoul was left wholly naked of courage, nor had she now any heart to resist. But this was as the devil would have it. Then he, Mr. Ill-pause, that Diabolus brought with him, who was his ora- tor, addressed himself to speak to the town of Mansoul ; the tenor of whose speech here fol- lows : Gentlemen, quoth he, it is my master’s hap- piness that he hath this day a quiet and teach- able auditory, and it is hoped by us that we shall prevail with you not to cast off good advice. My master has a very great love for you, and although, as he very well knows, that he runs the hazard of the anger of King Shadr dai, yet love to you will make him do more than that. Nor doth there need that a word more should be spoken to confirm for truth what he hath said; there is not a word but carries in it self-evidence in its bowels : the very name of the tree may put an end to all controversy in this matter. I therefore at this time shall only add this advice to you, under and by the leave of my lord, (and with that he made Diabolus a very low congee.) Consider * his words, look on the tree and the promising fruit thereof; remember also that yet you know but little, and that this is the way to know more; and if your reasons be not con- quc red to accept of such good counsel, you are not the men that I took you to be. But when the townsfolk saw that the tree vs as good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eye, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, they did as old Ill-pause advised ; they took and did eat thereof. Now this I should have told you before, that even then, when this Ill-pause was making of his speech to the townsmen, my Lord Innocency, whether by a shot from the camp of the giant, or from a sinking qualm that suddenly took him, or rather by the stinking breath of that treach- erous villain old Ill-pause, (for so I am most apt to think,) sunk down in the place where he stood, nor could he be brought to life again. Thus these two brave men died. Brave men I call them, for they were the beauty and glory of Mansoul so long as they lived therein ; nor did there now remain any more a noble spirit in Mansoul; they all fell down and yielded obedience to Diabolus, and became his slaves and vassals as you shall hear. Now, these being dead, what do the rest of the townsfolk but as men that had found a fool’s paradise? They presently, as afore was hinted, fell to prove the truth of the giant’s words; and first they did as Ill-pause had taught them ; they looked, they considered, they were taken with the forbidden fruit, they took thereof, and did eat ; and having eaten, they became immediately drunken therewith; so they opened the gate, both Ear-gate and Eye-gate, and let in Diabolus with all his bands, quite forgetting their good Shaddai, his law, and the judgment that he had annexed with solemn threatening to the breach thereof. Diabolus having now obtained entrance in at the gates of the town, marches up to the mid- dle thereof, to make his conquest as sure as he could ; and finding by this time the affections of the people warmly inclining to him, he, as thinking it was best striking while the iron was hot, made this further deceivable speech unto them, saying, Alas ! my poor Mansoul ! I have done thee indeed this service as to pro- mote thee to honour and to greaten thy liberty ; but, alas ! alas ! poor Mansoul ! thou wantest now one to defend thee; for assure thyself that when Shaddai shall hear what is done he will come; for sorry will he be that thou hast broken his bonds and cast his cords away from thee. What wilt thou do? Wilt thou, after enlargement, suffer thy privileges to be in- vaded and taken away ? or what wilt thou re- solve with thyself? Then they all with one consent said to this bramble, “ Do thou reign over us.” So he accepted the motion, and be- came king of the town of Mansoul. This being done, the next thing was to give him possession of the castle, and so of the whole strength of the town. Wherefore into the castle he goes, (it was that which Shaddai built in Mansoul for his own delight and pleasure;) this now was become a den and hold for the giant Diabolus. T1IE HOLY WAR. .375 Now, having got possession of this stately palace or castle, what doth he but make it a garrison for himself, and strengthens and forti- fies it with all sorts of provision against the King Shaddai, or those that should endeavour the regaining of it to him and his obedience again. This done, but not thinking himself yet secure enough, in the next place he bethinks himself of new modelling the town ; and so he docs, setting up one and putting down another at pleasure. Wherefore my lord mayor, whose name was my Lord Understanding, and Mr. Recorder, whose name was Mr. Conscience, those he puts out of place and power. As for my lord mayor, though he was an understanding man, and one too that had com- plied with the rest of the town of Mansoul in admitting the giant into the town, yet Diabolus thought not fit to let him abide in his former lustre and glory, because he was a seeing man. Wherefore he darkened it, not only by taking from him his office and power, but by building of an high and strong tower just behind the sun’s reflections and the windows of my lord’s palace ; by which means his house and all, and the whole of his habitation, was made as dark as darkness itself; and thus, being alienated from the light, he became as one that was born blind. To this his house my lord was confined as to a prison, nor might he upon his parole go farther than within his own bounds. And now, had he an heart to do for Mansoul, what could lie do for it, or wherein could he be profitable to her '? So, then, so long as Man- soul was under the power and government of Diabolus, (and so long it was under him as it was obedient to him, which was eveu until by a war it was rescued out of his hand,) so long my lord mayor was rather an impediment in than an advantage to the famous town of Man- soul. As for Mr. Recorder, before the town was taken he was a man well read in the laws of his King, and also a man of courage and faith- fulness to speak truth at every occasion ; and lie had a tongue as bravely hung as he had an head filled with judgment. Now this man Diabolus could by no means abide, because, though he gave his consent to his coming into the town, yet he could not, by all wiles, trials, and devices that he could use, make him wholly his own. True, he was much degene- rated from liis former King, and also much pleased with many of the giant’s laws and ser- vice. But all this would not do, forasmuch as he was not wholly bis. JTo would now and then think upon Shaddai, and have dread of his law upon him, and then he would speak with a voice as great against Diabolus as when a lion roareth; yea, and would also at certain times, when his fits were upon him, (for you must know that sometimes he had terrible fits,) make the whole town of Mansoul shake with his voice. And therefore the new king of Mansoul could not abide him. Diabolus therefore feared the recorder more than any that was left alive in the town of Mansoul, because, as I said, his words did shake the whole town; they were like the rattling thunder and also like thunderclaps. Since, therefore, the giant could not make him wholly his own, what doth he do but studies all that he could to debauch the old gentleman, and by debauchery to stupefy his mind and more harden his heart in ways of vanity. And as he attempted, so he accom- plished his design. He debauched the man, and by little and little so drew him into sin and wickedness that at last he was not only debauched as at first, and so by consequence defiled, but was almost (at last, I say) past all conscience of sin. And this was the farthest Diabolus could go. Wherefore he bethinks him of another project, and that was, to per- suade the men of the town that Mr. Recorder was mad, and so not to be regarded. And for this he urged his fits, and said, If he be him- self, why doth he not do thus always ? But, quoth he, as all mad folks have their fits and in them their raving language, so hath this old and doating gentleman. Thus by one means or another he quickly got Mansoul to slight, neglect, and despise whatever Mr. Re- corder could say ; for, besides what already you have heard, Diabolus had a way to make the old gentleman when he was merry unsay and deny what he in his fits had affirmed. And indeed this was the next way to make himself ridiculous, and to cause that no man should regard him. Also now he never spake freely for King Shaddai, but always by force and constraint. Besides, he would at one time be hot against that at which at another he would hold his peace, so uneven was he now in his doings. Sometimes he would be as if fast asleep, and again sometimes as dead, even then when the whole town of Mansoul was in her career after vanity and in her dance after the giant’s pipe. Wherefore, sometimes when Mansoul did use to be frighted with the thundering voice of 376 BUN FAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the recorder that was, and when they did tell Diabolus of it, he would answer, That what the old gentleman said was neither of love to him nor pity to them, but of a foolish fondness that he had to be prating ; and so would hush, still, and put all to quiet again. And that he might leave no argument unurged that might tend to make them secure, he said, and said it often, O Mansoul ! consider that notwithstand- ing the old gentleman’s rage and the rattle of his high and thundering words, you hear nothing of Sliaddai himself; when, liar and deceiver that he was, every outcry of Mr. Re- corder against the sin of Mansoul was the voice of God in him to them. But he goes on and says, You see that he values not the loss nor rebellion of the town of Mansoul, nor will he trouble himself with calling of his town to a reckoning for their giving up themselves to me. He knows that though ye were his, now you are lawfully mine ; so, leaving us one to another, he now hath shaken his hands of us. Moreover, 0 Mansoul! quoth he, consider how I have served you, even to the utmost of my power, and that with the best that I have, could get, or procure for you in all the world. Besides, I dare say that the laws and customs that you now are under, and by which you do homage to me, do yield you more solace and content than did the paradise that at first you possessed. Your liberty also, as yourselves do very well know, has been greatly Avidened and enlarged by me. Whereas I found you a pent- up people, I have not laid any restraint upon you ; you have no la\A r , statute, or judgment of mine to fright you ; I call none of you to ac- count for your doings, except the madman— you know Avho I mean : I have granted you to live, each man, like a prince in his OAvn, even with as little control from me as I myself have from you. And thus Avould Diabolus hush up and quiet the toAvn of Mansoul Avhen the recorder that was did at times molest them; yea, and with such cursed orations as these would he set the whole toAvn in a rage and fury against the old gentleman ; yea, the rascal creAv at some times Avould be for destroying of him. They have often wished (in my hearing) that he had lived a thousand miles off from them ; his company, his Avords, yea the sight of him, and especially when they remembered hoAv in old times he did use to threaten and condemn them, (for all he Avas now so debauched,) did terrify and afflict them sore. But all Avishes Avere in vain; for I do not knoAV how, unless by the poAver of Sliaddai and his wisdom, he was preserved in being amongst them. Besides, his house was as strong as a castle, and stood hard to a strong- hold of the toAvn. Moreover, if at any time any of the crew or rabble attempted to make him away, he could pull up the si dices and let in such floods as would drown all round about him. But to leave Mr. Recorder, and to come to my Lord Will-be-Avill, another of the gentry of the famous town of Mansoul. This Will- be-Avill Avas as high born as any man in Man- soul, and Avas as much, if not more, a freeholder than many of them Avere. Besides, if I re- member my tale aright, he had some privilege peculiar to himself in the famous toAvn of Mansoul. Noav, together Avitli these, he Avas a man of great strength, resolution, and courage, nor in his occasion could any turn him away. But I say, whether he was proud of his estate, privileges, strength, or Avliat, (hut sure it Avas through pride of something,) he scorns noAvto be a slave in Mansoul, and therefore resolves to bear office under Diabolus, that he might (such an one as he was) be a petty ruler and governor in Mansoul. And (headstrong man that he Avas) thus he began betimes ; for this man, Avlien Diabolus did make his oration at Ear-gate, Avas one of the first that Avas for con- senting to his Avords and for accepting of his counsel as Avholesome, and that Avas for the opening of the gate and for letting him into the town. Wherefore Diabolus had a kindness for him, and therefore he designed for him a place ; and perceiving the valour and stoutness of the man, he coveted to have him for one of the great ones, to act and do in matters of the highest concern. So he sent for him, and talked Avith him of that secret matter that lay in his jreast. But there needed not much persuasion in the case, for as at first he Avas willing that Diabolus should be let into the toAvn, so now he Avas as Avilling to serve him there. When the tyrant, therefore, perceived the Avillingness of my lord to serve him, and that his mind stood bending that Avay, he forthwith made him the captain of the castle, governor of the A\ r all, and keeper of the gates of Mansoul. Yea, there was a' clause in his commission that nothing Avithout him should be done in all the town of Man- soul. So that iioav, next to Diabolus himself, aa’Iio but my Lord Will-be-Avill in all the town of Mansoul ? Nor could anything now be done but at his Avill and pleasure throughout the TI1E UGLY WAR. 377 town of Mansoul. lie had also one Mr. Mind for his clerk, a man to speak on every way like his master ; for ho and his lord were in prin- ciple one, and in practice not far asunder. And now was Mansoul brought under to pur- pose, and made to fulfil the lusts of the will and of the mind. But it will not be out of my thoughts what a desperate one this Will-be-will was when power was put into his hand. First, he flatly denied that he owed any suit or service to his former prince and liege lord. This done, in the next place he took an oath and swore fidelity to his great master Diabolus ; and then, being seated and settled in his places, offices, advancements and preferments, oh you cannot think, unless you had seen it, the strange work that this workman made in the town of Man- soul. First, he maligned Mr. Recorder to death; he would neither endure to see him nor to hear the words of his mouth; he would shut his eyes when he saw him and stop his ears when he heard him speak ; also he could not endure that so much as a fragment of the law of Shad- dai should be anywhere seen in the town. For example, his clerk, Mr. Mind, had some old rent and torn parchments of the law of good Shaddni in his house, but when Will-be-will saw them he cast them behind his back. True, Mr. Recorder had some of the laws in his study, but my lord could by no means come at them, lie also thought and said that the windows of my old lord mayor’s house were always too light for the profit of the town of Mansoul. The light of a candle he could not endure. Now nothing at all pleased Will-be-will but what pleased Diabolus his lord. There was none like him to trumpet about the streets the brave nature, the wise conduct, and great glory of the king Diabolus. He would range and rove throughout the streets of Mansoul to cry up his illustrious lord, and would make himself even as an abject among the base and rascal crew to cry up his valiant prince. And I say, when and wheresoever he found these vassals, he would even make him- self as one of them. In all ill courses he would act without bidding and do mischief with on t com m an dmen t. The Lord Will-be-will had also a deputy under him, and his name was Mr. Affection; one that was also greatly debauched in his principles, and answerable thereto in his life: he was wholly given to the flesh, and therefore they called him Vile-affection. Now there was lie and one Carnal-lust, the daughter of Mr. Mind, (like to like, quoth the devil to the col- lier,) that fell in love and made a match, and were married ; and as I take it they had sev- eral children, as Impudent, Black-mouth, and llale-reproof ; these three were black boys; and besides these they had three daughters, as Scorn-truth, Slight-God, and the name of the youngest was Town ; and also begot and yielded Bad-revenge; these were all married," and the brats were too many to be here in- serted. But to pass by this. When the giant had thus engarrisoned him- self in the town of Mansoul, and had put down and set up whom he thought good, he betakes himself to defacing. Now there was in the market-place in Mansoul, and also upon the gates of the castle, an image of the blessed King Shaddai; this image was so- exactly en- graven (and it was engraved in gold) that it did the most resemble Shaddai himself of any thing that then was extant in the world. This he basely commanded to be defaced, and it was as basely done by the hand of Mr. No- truth. Now you must know that as Diabolus had commanded, and that by the hand of Mr. No-truth, the image of Shaddai was defaced, he likewise gave order that the same Mr. No- truth should set up in its stead the horrid and formidable image of Diabolus, to the great contempt of the former King, and the debas- ing of his town of Mansoul. Moreover, Diabolus made havoc of all re- mains of the laws and statutes of Shaddai that could be found in the town of Mansoul; to wit, such as contained either doctrines or morals, with all civil and natural documents. Also relative duties he sought to extinguish. To be short, there was nothing of the remains of good in Mansoul which he and Will-be-will sought not to destroy, for their design was lead my title to it to the confusion of thy face. First, For the town of Mansoul, my Father built and did fashion it with his hand. The palace also that is in the midst of that town he built it for his own delight. This town of Mansoul, therefore, is my Father’s, and that by the best of titles ; and he that gainsays the truth of this must lie against his soul. Secondly, 0 thou master of the lie, this town of Mansoul is mine — 1. For that I am my Father’s heir, his first- born, and the only delight of his heart. I am therefore come up against thee in mine own right, even to recover mine own inheritance out of thine hand. 2. But, further : as I have right and title to Mansoul by being my Father’s heir, so I have also by my Father’s donation. His it was, and he gave it me ; nor have I at any time offended my Father that he should take it from me and give it thee. Nor have I been forced, by play- ing the bankrupt, to sell, or set to sale to thee, my beloved town of Mansoul. Mansoul is my desire, my delight, and the joy of my heart. But, 3. Mansoul is mine by right of purchase. I have bought it, (0 Diabolus,) I have bought it to myself. Now, since it was my Father’s and mine, as I was his heir, and since also I have made it mine by virtue of a great purchase, it followeth that by all lawful right the town of Mansoul is mine, and that thou art an usurper, a tyrant and traitor in thy holding possession thereof. Now the cause of my purchasing of it was this : Mansoul had trespassed against my Father. Now my Father had said that in the day that they broke his law they should die. Now it is more possible for heaven and earth to pass away than for my Father to break his word. Wherefore, when Mansoul had sinned indeed by hearkening to thy lie, I put in and became a surety to my Father, body for body, and soul for soul, that I would make amends for Mansoul’s transgressions ; and my Father did accept thereof. So when the time appointed was come I gave body for body, soul for soul, life for life, blood for blood, and so re- deemed my beloved Mansoul. 4. Nor did I do this to the halves; my Father’s law and justice, that were both con- cerned in the threatening upon transgression, are both now satisfied and very well content that Mansoul should be delivered. 5. Nor am I come out this day against thee but by commandment of my Father ; it was he that said unto me, Go down and deliver Man- soul. Wherefore be it known unto thee, 0 thou fountain of deceit, and be it also known to the foolish town of Mansoul, that I am not come against thee this day without my Father. “And now” (said the golden-headed Prince) “ I have a word to the town of Mansoul.” But as soon as mention was made that he had a word to speak to the besotted town of Mansoul the gates were double guarded, and all men commanded not to give him audience. So he proceeded, and said : “ 0 unhappy town of Mansoul ! I cannot but be touched with pity and compassion for thee. Thou hast accepted of Diabolus for thy king, and art become a nurse and minister of Diabolonians against thy Sov- ereign Lord. Thy gates thou hast opened to him, but hast shut them fast against me ; thou hast given him a hearing, but hast stopped thine ears at my cry ; he brought to thee thy destruction, and thou didst receive both him and it; I am come to thee bringing salvation, but thou regardest me not. Besides, thou hast, as with sacrilegious hands, taken thyself, with all that was mine in thee, and hast given all to my foe and to the greatest enemy my Father has. You have bowed and subjected yourselves to him ; you have vowed and sworn yourselves to be his. Poor Mansoul ! what shall I do unto thee? Shall I save thee? Shall I destroy thee ? What shall I do unto thee? Shall I fall upon thee and grind thee TIIE HOLY WAR. 401 to powder, or make thee a monument of the richest grace? What shall I do unto thee? Hearken, therefore, thou town of Mansoul — hearken to my word and tliou shalt live. I am merciful, Mansoul, and thou shalt find me so. Shut me not out of thy gates. “0 Mansoul ! neither is my commission nor inclination to do thee any hurt ; why fliest thru so fast from thy friend, and stickest so close to thine enemy? Indeed I would have thee, because it becomes thee, to be sorry for thy sin ; but do not despair of life: this great force is not to hurt thee, but to deliver thee from thy bondage and to reduce thee to thy obedience. “ My commission indeed is to make a war upon Diabolus tby king, and upon all Diab- olonians with him ; for he is the strong man armed that keeps the bouse, and I will have him out; his spoils I must divide, his armour I must take from him, his hold I must cast him out of, and make it an habitation for my- self. And this, O Mansoul, shall Diabolus know, when lie shall be made to follow me in chains, and when Mansoul shall rejoice to see it so. “ I could, would I now put forth my might, cause that forthwith he should leave you and depart; but I have it in my heart so to deal with him as that the justice of the war that I shall make upon him may be seen and ac- knowledged by all. He hath taken Mansoul by fraud, and keeps it by violence and deceit, and I will make him bare and naked in the eyes of all observers. “All my words are true; I am mighty to save, and will deliver my Mansoul out of his hand.” This speech was intended chiefly for Man- soul, hut Mansoul would not have the hearing of it. They shut up Ear-gate, they barrica- doed it up, they kept it locked, and bolted; they set a guard thereat, and commanded that no Mansoulian should go out to him, nor that any from the camp should be admitted into the town. All this they did, so horribly had Diabolus enchanted them to do and seek to do for him against their rightful Lord and Prince; wherefore no man, nor voice, nor sound of man that belonged to the glorious host was to come into the town. So when Emmanuel saw that Mansoul was thus involved in sin, he calls his army to- gether, since now also his words were despised, and gave out a commandment throughout all liis host to be ready against the time appointed. 26 Now, forasmuch as there was no way lawfully to take the town of Mansoul but to get in by the gates, and at Ear-gate as the chief, there- fore he commanded his captains and com- manders to bring their rams, their slings, and their men, and to place them at Eye-gate and Ear-gate, in order to his taking the town. When Emmanuel had put all things in a readiness to give Diabolus battle, he sent again to know of the town of Mansoul if in a peace- able manner they would yield themselves, or whether they were yet resolved to put him to try the utmost extremity. Then they, together with Diabolus their king, called a council of war, and resolved upon certain propositions that should be offered to Emmanuel, if he would accept thereof; so they agreed, and then the next was, Who should be sent on this errand? Now there was in the town of Man- soul an old man, a Diabolonian, and his name was Mr. Lotli-to-stoop, a stiff man in his way, and a great doer for Diabolus: him therefore they sent, and put into his mouth what he should say. So he went and came to the camp to Emmanuel ; and when he was come a time ■was appointed to give him audience. So at the time he came, and after a Diabolonian ceremony or two, he thus began and said: “Great sir, that it may be known unto all men how good-natured a prince my master is, he hath sent me to tell your lordship that he is very willing, rather than go to war, to deliver up into your hands one-half of the town of Mansoul. I am therefore to know if your Mightiness will accept of this proposition.” Then said Emmanuel, “The whole is mine by gift and purchase, wherefore I will never lose one-half.” Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, “Sir, my master hath said that he will be content that you shall be the nominal and titular Lord of all, if he may possess but a part.” Then Emmanuel answered, “The whole is mine really, not in name and word only; wherefore I will be the sole Lord and pos- sessor of all, or of none at all, of Mansoul.” Then Mr. Loth-to-stoop said again, “Sir, be- hold the condescension of my master ! He says that he will be content if he may but have as- signed to him some place in Mansoul as a place to live privately in, and you shall be Lord of all the rest.” Then said the golden Prince, “All that the- Father giveth me shall come to me; and of all that he hath given me I will lose nothing, no, not a hoof nor a hair. I will not therefore 402 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. grant him, no, not the least corner in Mansoul to dwell in ; I will have all to myself.” Then Loth-to-stoop said again, “But, sir, suppose that my Lord should resign the whole town to you, only with this proviso, that he sometimes, when he comes into this country, may, for old acquaintance’ sake, be entertained as a wayfaring man for two days, or ten days, or a month, or so? May not then this small matter be granted?” Then said Emmanuel, “No: he came as a wayfaring man to David, nor did he stay long with him, and yet it had like to have cost David his soul. I will not consent that he ever should have any harbour more there.” Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, “ Sir, you seem to be very hard. Suppose my master should yield to all that your Lordship hath said, pro- vided that his friends and kindred in Mansoul may have liberty to trade in the town and to enjoy their present dwellings? May not that be granted, sir?” Then said Emmanuel, “No; that is contrary to my Father’s will; for all and all manner of Diabolonians that now are or that at any time shall be found in Mansoul shall not only lose their lands and liberties, but also their lives.” Then said Mr. Loth-to-stoop again, “But, sir, may not my master and great lord, by let- ters, by passengers, by accidental opportuni- ties, and the like, maintain, if he shall deliver up all unto thee, some kind of old friendship with Mansoul?” Emmanuel answered, “No, by no means, forasmuch as any such fellowship, friendship, intimacy, or acquaintance, in what way, sort, or mode soever maintained, will tend to the cor- rupting of Mansoul, the alienating of their af- fections from me, and the endangering of their peace with my Father.” Mr. Loth-to-stoop yet added further, saying, But, great sir, since my master hath many friends, and those that are dear to him, in Mansoul, may he not, if he shall depart from them, even of his bounty and good nature be- stow upon them, as he sees fit, some tokens of his love and kindness that he had for them, to the end that Mansoul, when he is gone, may look upon such tokens of kindness once re- ceived from their old friend, and remember him who was once their king, and the merry times that they sometimes enjoyed one with another while he and they lived in peace to- gether?” Then said Emmanuel, “ No ; for if Mansoul come to be mine I shall not admit of nor con- sent that there should be the least scrap, shred, or dust of Diabolus left behind as tokens or gifts bestowed upon any in Mansoul, thereby to call to remembrance the horrible communion that was betwixt them and him.” “ Well, sir,” said Mr. Loth-to-stoop, “ I have one thing more to propound, and then I am got to the end of my commission : Suppose that when my master is gone from Mansoul any that yet shall live in the town should have such business of high concerns to do that if they be neglected the party shall be undone; and suppose, sir, that nobody can help in that case so well as my master and lord ? May not now my master be sent for upon so urgent an occasion as this? Or if he may not be ad- mitted into the town, may not he and the person concerned meet in some of the villages near Mansoul, and there lay their heads to- gether and there consult of matters?” This was the last of those ensnaring proposi- tions that Mr. Loth-to-stoop had to propound to Emmanuel on behalf of his master Diab- olus; but Emmanuel would not grant it, for he said, “ There can be no case, or thing, or matter fall out in Mansoul, when thy master shall be gone, that may not be solved by my Father ; besides, it will be a great disparage- ment to my Father’s wisdom and skill to admit any from Mansoul to go out to Diabolus for advice, when they are bid before, in every- thing, by prayer and supplication to let their request be made known to my Father. Further, this, should it be granted, would be to grant that a door should be set open for Diabolus and the Diabolonians in Mansoul to hatch and plot and bring to pass treasonable designs, to the grief of my father and me, and to the utter destruction of Mansoul.” When Mr. Loth-to-stoop had heard this an- swer, he took his leave of Emmanuel and departed, saying that he would carry his word to his master concerning this whole affair. So he departed, and came to Diabolus to Mansoul, and told him the whole of the matter, and how Emmanuel would not admit, no not by any means, that he, when he was once gone out, should for ever have any thing more to do either in or with any that are of the town of Mansoul. When Mansoul and Diabolus had heard this relation of things, they with one consent concluded to use their best endeavours to keep Emmanuel out of Mansoul, and sent old Ill-pause, of whom you have heard before, to tell the Prince and his captains so. So the old gentleman came up to the top of Ear-gate, THE HOLY WAR. •403 ami called to the camp for a hearing ; to whom, when they gave audience, lie said, “ I have in commandment from my high lord to bid you to tell it to your Prince Emmanuel that Man- soul and their king are resolved to stand and fall together, and that it is in vain for your Prince to think of ever having of Mansoul in his hand, unless he can take it by force.” So some went and told to Emmanuel what old Ill-pause, a Diabolonian in the town of Man- soul, had said. Then said the Prince, “ I must try the power of my sword, for I will not, for all th.e rebellions and repulses that Mansoul has made against me, raise my siege and de- part, but will assuredly take my Mansoul and deliver it from the hand of her enemy.” And with that he gave out a commandment that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, Cap- tain Judgment, and Captain Execution should forthwith march up to- Ear-gate, with trumpets sounding, colours flying, and with shouting for the battle. Also he would that Captain Credence should join himself with them. Em- manuel moreover gave orders that Captain Good-hope and Captain Charity should draw themselves up before Eye-gate. He bid also that the rest of his captains and their men should place themselves, for the best of their . advantage against the enemy, round about the town ; and all was done as he had commanded. Then he bid that the word should be given forth, and the word was at that time Emman- uel. Then was an alarm sounded, and the battering-rams were played, and the slings did whirl stones into the town amain ; and thus the battle began. Now Diabolus himself did man- age the townsmen in the war, and that at every gate ; wherefore their resistance was the more forcible, hellish, and offensive to Emmanuel. Thus was the good Prince engaged and enter- tained by Diabolus in Mansoul for several days together. And a sight worth seeing it •was to behold how the captains of Shaddai behaved themselves in this war. And first, for Captain Boanerges, (not to undervalue the rest,) he made three most fierce assaults, one after another, upon Ear-gate, to the shaking of the posts thereof. Captain Conviction, he also made up as fast with Boanerges as possibly he could, and both dis- cerning that the gate began to yield, they com- manded that the rams should still be played against it. Now Captain Conviction, going up very near to the gate, was with very great force driven back, and received three wounds in the mouth. And those that rode reform- ades, they went about to encourage the cap- tains. For the valour of the two captains made mention of before, the Prince sent for them to his pavilion, and commanded that awhile they should rest themselves, and that with some- what they should be refreshed. Care was also taken for Captain Conviction that he should be healed of his wounds. The Prince also gave to each of them a chain of gold, and bid them yet be of good courage. Nor did Captain Good-hope nor Captain ‘ Charity come behind in this most desperate fight, for they so well did behave themselves at Eye-gate that they had almost broken it quite open. These also had a reward from their Prince, as also had the rest of the cap- tains, because they did valiantly around about the town. In this engagement several of the officers of Diabolus were slain, and some of the townsmen wounded. For among the officers there was one Captain Boasting slain. This Boasting thought that nobody could have shaken the posts of Ear-gate nor have shaken the heart of Diabolus. Next to him there was one Captain Secure slain : this Secure used to say that the blind and lame in Mansoul were able to keep the gates of the town against Emman- uel’s army. This Captain Secure did Captain Conviction cleave down the head with a two- handed sword, when he received himself three wounds in his mouth. Besides these there was one Captain Brag- man, a very desperate fellow, and he was cap- tain over a band of those that threw fire- brands, arrows and death ; he also received by the hand of Captain Good-hope at Eye-gate a mortal wound ip the breast. There was moreover one Mr. Feeling, but he was no captain, but a great stickler to en- courage Mansoul to rebellion : he received a wound in the eye by the hand of one of Boa- nerges’ soldiers, and had by the captain him- self been slain but that he made a sudden retreat. But I never saw Will-be-will so daunted in all my life: he was not able to do as he was wont, and some say that he also re- ceived a wound in the leg, and that some of the men in the Prince’s army have certainly seen him limp as he afterwards walked on the wall. I shall not give you a particular account of the names of the soldiers that were slain in the town, for many were maimed, and 404 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. wounded, and slain ; for when they saw that the posts of Ear-gate did shake and Eye-gate was wellnigh broken open, and also that their captains were slain, this took away the hearts of many of theDiabolonians ; they fell also by the force of the shot that were sent by the golden slings into the midst of the town of Mansoul. Of the townsmen there was one Love-no- good; he was a townsman, but a Diabolo- nian: he also received his mortal w’ound in Mansoul, but he died not very soon. Mr. Ill-pause also, who was the man that came along with Diabolus when at first he attempted the taking of Mansoul, he also re- ceived a grievous wound in the head ; some say that his brain-pan was cracked ; this I have taken notice of, that he was never after this able to do that mischief to Mansoul as he had done in times past. Also, old Prejudice and Mr. Anything fled. Now when the battle was over the Prince commanded that yet once more the white flag should be set upon Mount Gracious in sight of the town of Mansoul, to show that yet Em- manuel had grace for the wretched town of Mansoul. When Diabolus saw the white flag hanged out again, and knowing that it was not for him, but Mansoul, he cast in his mind to play another prank— to wit, to see if Emmanuel would raise his siege and be gone upon a promise of reformation. So he comes down to the gate one evening, a good while after the sun was gone down, and calls to speak with Emmanuel, who presently comes down to the gate, and Diabolus said unto him : “ Forasmuch as thou makest it appear by thy white flag that thou art wholly given to peace and quiet, I thought meet to acquaint thee that we are ready to accept thereof upon terms which thou mayest admit. “ I know that thou art given to devotion, and that holiness pleases thee ; yea, that thy great end in making war upon Mansoul is that it may be an holy habitation. Well, draw off thy forces from the town and I will bend Man- soul to thy bow. “ First, I will lay down all acts of hostility against thee, and will be willing to become thy deputy, and will, as I have formerly been against thee, now serve thee in the town of Mansoul. And more particularly, “ 1. I will persuade Mansoul to receive thee for their Lord, and I know that they will do it sooner when they shall understand that I am thy deputy. “2. I will show them wherein they have erred, and that transgression stands in the way to life. “3. I will show them the holy law unto which they must conform, even that which they have broken. “4. I will press upon them the necessity of a reformation according to law. “5. And moreover, that none of these things may fail, I myself, at my own proper cost and charge, will set up and maintain a sufficient ministry, besides lectures, in Mansoul. “6. Thou shalt receive as a token of oui subjection to thee, continually year by year, what thou shalt think fit to lay and levy upon us in token of such subjection to thee.” Then said Emmanuel to him, “ 0 full of deceit, how movable are thy ways ! How often hast thou changed and rechanged, if so be thou mightest still keep possession of my Mansoul, though, as has been plainly declared before, I am the right heir thereof! Often hast thou made thy proposals already, nor is this last a whit better than they. And failing to deceive when thou showedst thyself in thy black, thou hast now transformed thyself into an angel of light, and wouldst, to deceive, be now as a minister of righteousness. “ But know thou, 0 Diabolus, that nothing must be regarded that thou canst propound, for nothing is done by thee but to deceive; thou neither hast conscience to God nor love to the town of Mansoul ; whence, then, should these thy sayings arise but from sinful craft and deceit? He that can list and will pro- pound what he pleases, and that therewith he may destroy them that believe him, is to be abandoned, with all that he shall say. But if righteousness be such a beauty-spot in thine eyes now, how is it that wickedness was so closely stuck to by thee before? But this by the by. “ Thou talkest now of a reformation in Mansoul, and that thou thyself, if I please, will be at the head of that reformation, all the while knowing that the greatest profici- ency that man can make in the law, and the righteousness thereof, will amount to no more for the taking away of the curse from Mansoul than just nothing at all ; for a law being broken by Mansoul, that had before, upon a supposition of the breach thereof, a curse pro- nounced against it for it of God, can never, by its obeying the law, deliver itself therefrom, (to say nothing of what a reformation is like THE HOLY WAR. 405 to be set up in Munsoul when the devil is be- come the corrector of vice.) Thou knowest that all that thou hast now said in this matter is nothing but guile and deceit, and as it was the first, so is it the last card that thou hast to play. Many there be that discern thee when thou showest them thy cloven foot, but in thy white, thy light, and in thy transformation thou art seen but of a few. But thou shalt not do thus with my Mansoul, 0 Diabolus, for I do still love my Mansoul. “ Besides, I am not come to put Mansoul upon works to live thereby, (should I do so, I should be like unto thee,) but I am come that by me, and by what I have and shall do for Mansoul, they may to my Father be reconciled, though by their sin they have provoked him to anger, and though by the law they cannot ob- tain mercy. “ Thou talkest of subjecting this town to good when none desireth it at thy hands. I am sent by my Father to possess it myself, and to guide it by the skilfulness of my hands into such a conformity to him as shall be pleasing in his sight. I will therefore possess it my- self. I will dispossess and cast thee out. I will set up mine own standard in the midst of them. I will also govern them by new laws, new officers, new motives, and new ways ; yea, I will pull down this town and build it again, and it shall be as though it had not been, and it shall be the glory of the whole universe.” When Diabolus heard this, and perceived that he was discovered in all his deceits, he was confounded and utterly put to a nonplus ; but having in himself the fountains of iniq- uity, rage, and malice against both Shaddai and his Son, and the beloved town of Mansoul, what doth he but strengthen himself what he could to give fresh battle to the noble Prince Emmanuel? So, then, now we must have another fight before the town of Mansoul is taken. Come up, then, to the mountains, you that love to see military actions, and behold by both sides how the fatal blow is given, while one seeks to hold and the other seeks to make himself master of the famous town of Man- soul. Diabolus therefore withdrew himself from the walls to his fort .that was in the heart of the town of Mansoul ; Emmanuel also re- turned to the camp, and both of them, after their divers ways, put themselves into a pos- ture fit to give battle one to another. Diabolus, as filled with despair of retaining in his hands the famous town of Mansoul, re- solved to do what mischief he could (if indeed he could do any) to the army of the Prince and to the famous town of Mansoul, (for, alas I it was not the happiness of the silly town of Mansoul that was designed by Diabolus, but the utter ruin and overthrow thereof,) its now is enough in view. Wherefore he commands his officers that they should then, when they saw that they could hold the town no longer, do it what harm and mischief they could, rending and tearing men, women, and children. For, said he, we had better quite demolish the place and leave it a ruinous heap than that it should be an habitation for Emmanuel. Emmanuel, again knowing that the next battle would issue in his being made master of the place, gave out a royal commandment to all his officers, high captains, and men of war to be sure and show themselves men of war against Diabolus and all Diabolonians, but favourable, merciful and meek to all the old inhabitants of Mansoul. Bend therefore, said the noble Prince, the hottest front of the bat- tle against Diabolus and his men. So the day being come, the command was given, and the Prince’s men did bravely stand to their arms, and did, as before, bend their forces against Ear-gate and Eye-gate. The word was then, “Mansoul is won.” So they made their assault upon the town. Diabolus, also, as fast as he could with the main of his power, made resistance from within, and his high lords and chief captains for a time fought very cruelly against the Prince’s army. But after three or four notable charges by the Prince and his noble captains, Ear-gate was broken open, and the bars and bolts wherewith it was used to be fast shut up against the Prince were broken into a thousand pieces. Then did the Prince’s trumpets sound, the captains shout, the town shake, and Diabolus retreat to his hold. Well, when the Prince’s forces had broken open the gate, himself came up, and did set up his throne in it; also he set his standard upon a mount that his men had be- fore cast up to place the mighty slings thereon. The mount was called Mount Plear-well ; there, therefore, the Prince abode — to wit, hard by the going in at the gate. He commanded also that the golden slings should yet be played upon the town, especially against the castle, because for shelter thither was Diabolus re- treated. Now from Ear-gate the street was straight, even to the house of him who was re- corder before Diabolus took the town ; and hard by his house stood the castle, which Dial)- 4.06 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. olus for a long time had made his irksome den. The captains therefore did quickly clear that street by the use of their slings, so that way was made up to the heart of the town. Then did the Prince command that Captain Boanerges, Captain Conviction, and Captain Judgment should forthwith march up the town to the old gentleman’s gate. Then did the captains in most warlike manner enter into the town of Mansoul, and marching in with flying colours they came up to the recorder’s house, (and that was almost as strong as the castle.) Battering-rams they took also with them to plant against the castle-gates. When they were come to the house of Mr. Conscience, they knocked and demanded entrance. Now the old gentleman, not knowing as yet fully their design, kept his gates shut all the time of this fight. Wherefore Boanerges demanded en- trance at his gates, and no man making answer, he gave it one stroke with the head of a ram, and this made the old gentleman to shake and his house to tremble and totter. Then came Mr. Recorder down to the gate, and, as well as lie could with quivering lipis, he asked, Who was there? Boanerges answered, We are the captains and commanders of the great Shaddai and of the blessed Emmanuel his Son, and we demand possession of your house for the use of our noble Prince. And with that the battering- ram gave the gate another shake : this made the old gentleman tremble the more, yet he durst not but open the gate : then the King’s forces marched in — namely, the three brave captains mentioned before. Now the record- er’s house was a place of much convenience for Emmanuel, not only because it was near to the castle and strong, but also because it was large and fronted the castle, the den where now Diabolus was ; for he was now afraid to come out of his hold. As for Mr. Recorder, the captains carried it very reservedly to him ; as yet he knew nothing of the great designs of Emmanuel, so that he did not know what judg- ment to make nor what would be the end of such thundering beginnings. It was also noised in the town how the recorder’s house was possessed, his rooms taken up, and his palace made the seat of war; and no sooner was it noised abroad but they took the alarm as warmly, and gave it out to others of his friends, (and as you know a snowball loses nothing by rolling ;) so in little time the whole town was possessed that they must expect nothing from the Prince but destruction; and the ground of the business was this : The re- corder was afraid, the recorder trembled, and the captains carried it strangely to the re- corder. So many came to see, but when they with their own eyes did behold the captains in the palace, and their battering-rams ever play- ing at the castle-gates to beat them down, they were riveted in their fears and it made them all in amaze. And, as I said, the man of the house Would increase all this ; for, whoever came to him or discoursed with him, nothing would he talk of, tell them, or hear but that death and destruction now attended Mansoul. For, quoth the old gentleman, you are all of you sensible that we all have been traitors to that once despised but now famously victorious and glorious Prince Emmanuel. For he now, as you see, doth not only lie in close siege about us, but hath forced his entrance in at our gates : moreover Diabolus flies before him, and he hath, as you behold, made of my house a gar- rison against the castle where he is. I, for my part, have transgressed greatly, (and he that is clean it is well for him)— but, I say, I have transgressed greatly in keeping silence when I should have spoken, and in perverting justice when I should have executed the same. True, I have suffered something at the hands of Diabolus for taking part with the laws of King Shaddai, but that, alas! what will that do?_ Will that make compensation for the rebellions and treasons that I have done, and have suffer- ed without gainsaying to be committed, in the town of Mansoul? Oh I tremble to think what will be the end of this so dreadful and so ireful a beginning ! Now while these brave captains were thus busy in the house of the old recorder, Captain Execution was as busy in other parts of the town in securing the back streets and the walls. He also hunted the Lord Will-be-will sorely, and suffered him not to rest in any corner. He pursued him so hard that he drove his men from him, and made him glad to thrust his head into a hole. Also this mighty warrior did cut three of the Lord Will-be-will’s officers down to the ground: one was old Mr. Preju- dice, he that had his crown cracked in the mutiny; this man was made by my Lord Will- be-will keeper of Ear-gate, and fell by the hand of Captain Execution. There was also one Mr. Backward-to-all-but-naught, and he also was one of Lord Will-be-wilPs officers, and was the captain of the two guns that once were mounted on the top of Ear-gate ; he also was cut down to the ground by the hands of Captain Execution. Besides these two there T1IE HOLY WAR. 4t>7 t\ us another, a third, and his name was Captain Treacherous: a vile man this was, but one that Will bo-will did put a great deal of confidence in; but him also did this Captain Execution cut down to the ground with the rest. lie also -made a very great slaughter among my Lord Will-bc-will’s soldiers, killing many that were stout and sturdy, and wounding of many that for Diabolus were nimble and active. But all these were Diabolonians : there was not a man, a native of Mansoul, hurt. Other feats of war were also likewise per- formed by other of the captains, as at Eye- gate, where Captain Good-hope and Captain Charity had a charge, was great execution done; for Captain Good-hope with his own hand slew one Captain Blind-fold, the keeper of that gate; this Blind-fold was captain of a thousand men, and they were they that fought with mauls ; ' he also pursued his men, slew many and wounded more, and made the rest hide their heads in corners. There was also at that gate Mr. Ill-pause, of whom you have heard before; he was an old man, and had a beard that reached down to his girdle; the same was he that was orator to Diabolus : he did much mischief in the town of Mansoul, and fell by the hand of Captain Good-hope. What shall I say : The Diabolonians in these days lay dead in every corner, though too many were yet alive in Mansoul. Now the old recorder and my Lord Under- standing, with some o fliers of the chief of the town — to wit, such as knew they must stand or fall with the famous town of Mansoul — came together upon a day, and after consultation had did jointly agree to draw up a petition and to send it to Emmanuel, now while he sat in the gate of Mansoul. So they drew up their pe- tition to Emmanuel, the contents whereof were these : “ That they, the old inhabitants of the deplorable town of Mansoul, confessed their sins, and were sorry that they had offended his princely Majesty, and prayed that he would spare their lives.” Upon this petition he gave no answer at all, and that did trouble them yet so much the more. Now all this while the captains that were in the recorder’s house were playing with the battering-rams at the gates of the castle to beat them down. So, after some time, labour, and travail, the gate of the castle that was call- ed Impregnable was beaten open and broken into several splinters, and so a way made to go up to the hold in which Diabolus had hid him- self. Then were tidings sent down to Ear- gate, for Emmanuel still abode there, to let him know that a way was made in at the gates of the castle of Mansoul. But oh how the trumpets at the tidings sounded throughout, the Prince’s camp, for that now the war was so near an end, and Mansoul itself of being set free I Then the Prince arose from the place where he was, and took with him such of his men of war as were fittest for the expedition, and marched up the street of Mansoul to the old recorder’s house. Now the Prince himself was clad all in ar- mour of gold, and so he marched up the town with his standard borne before him ; but he kept his countenance much reserved all the way as he went, so that the people could not tell how to gather to themselves love or hatred by his looks. Now as he marched up the street the townsfolk came out at every door to see, and could not but be taken with his person and the glory thereof, but wondered at the re- servedness of his countenance; for as yet he spake more to them by bis actions and works than he did by words or smiles. But also poor Mansoul (as in such cases all are apt to do) interpreted the carriage of Emmanuel to them, as did Joseph’s brethren his to them, even all the quite contrary way ; for, thought they, if Emmanuel loved us he would show it to us by word or carriage, but none of these he doth, therefore Emmanuel hates us. Now if Em- manuel hates us, Mansoul shall be slain, then Mansoul shall become a dunghill. They knew that they had transgressed his Father’s law, and that against him they had been in league with Diabolus his enemy. They also knew that the Prince Emmanuel knew all this, for they were convinced that he was an angel of God, to know all things that are done in the earth. And this made them think that their condition was miserable, and that the good Prince would make them desolate. And, thought they, what time so fit to do this in as now, when he has the bridle of Mansoul in his hand. And this I took special notice of, that the inhabitants (notwithstand- ing all this) could not — no, they could not when they saw him march through the town — but cringe, bow, bend, and were ready to lick the dust off his feet. They also wished a thousand times over that he would become their Prince and captain, and would become their protector. They would also one to an- other talk of the comeliness of his person, and 408 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. how much for glory and valour he outstripped the great opes of the world. But, poor hearts ! as to themselves, their thoughts would change and go upon all manner of extremes ; vea, through the working of them backward and forward Mansoul became as a ball tossed and as a rolling thing before the whirlwind. Now when he was come to the castle-gates he commanded Diabolus to appear and to sur- render himself into his hands. But oh how loth was the beast to appear ! Plow he stuck at it ! How he shrunk ! How he cringed ! Yet out he came to the Prince. Then Em- manuel commanded, and they took Diabolus and bound him fast in chains, the better to reserve him to the judgment that he had ap- pointed for him ; but Diabolus stood up to entreat for himself that Emmanuel would not send him into the deep, but suffer him to depart out of Mansoul in peace. When Emmanuel had taken him and bound him in chains, he led him into the market- place, and there, before Mansoul, stripped him of his armour in which he boasted so much before. This now was one of the acts of tri- umph of Emmanuel over his enemy ; and all the while that the giant was stripping the trumpets of the golden Prince did sound amain ; the captains also shouted and the soldiers did sing for joy. Then was Mansoul called upon to behold the beginning of Emmanuel’s triumph over him in whom they so much had trusted, and of whom they so. much had boasted in the days when he had flattered them. Thus, having made Diabolus naked in the eyes of Mansoul and before the commanders of the Prince, in the next place he commands that Diabolus should be bound with chains to his chariot wheels. Then leaving some of his forces — to wit, Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction — as a guard for the castle-gates, that resistance might be made on his behalf, (if any that heretofore followed Diabolus should make an attempt to possess it,) he did ride in triumph over him quite through the town of Mansoul, and so out at and before the gate ealled Eye-gate, to the plain where was his camp. But you cannot think, unless you had been there as I was, what a shout there was in Em- manuel’s camp when they saw the tyrant bound by the hand of their noble Prince and tied to his chariot wheels. And they said, He hath led captivity cap- dive ; he hath spoiled principalities and pow- ers ; Diabolus is subjected to the power of his sword and made the object of all derision ! Those also that rode reformades, and that. . came down to see the battle, they shouted with that greatness of voice and sung with such melodious notes that they caused them that dwell in the highest orbs to open their win- dows, put out their heads, and look down to see the cause of that glory. The townsmen also, so many of them as saw this sight, were as it were astonished while they looked betwixt the earth and the heavens. True, they could not tell what would be the issue of things as to them, but all things were done in such excellent methods ; and I cannot tell how but things in the management of them seemed to cast a smile towards the town ; so that their eyes, their heads, their hearts, and their minds, and all that they had, were taken and held while they observed Emman- uel’s order. So, when the brave Prince had finished this part of his triumph over Diabolus his foe, he turned him up in the midst of his contempt and shame, having given hifh a charge no more to be a possessor of Mansoul. Then went he from Emmanuel, and out of the midst of his camp, to inherit the parched places in a salt land, seeking rest, but finding none. Now, Captain Boanerges and Captain Con- viction were both 'of them men of very great majesty; their faces were like the faces of lions, and their words like the roaring of the sea ; and they still quartered in Mr. Con- science’s house, of whom mention was made before. When therefore the high and mighty Prince had thus far finished his triumph over Diabolus, the townsmen had more leisure to view and to behold the actions of these noble captains. But the captains carried it with that terror and dread in all that they did (and you may be sure that they had private instructions so to do) that they kept the town under con- tinual heart-aching, and caused (in their ap- prehension) the well-being of Mansoul for the future to hang in doubt before them, so that (for some considerable time) they neither knew what rest, or ease, or peace, or hope meant. Nor did the Prince himself, as yet, abide in the town of Mansoul, but in his royal pavilion in the camp and in the midst of his Father’s forces. So at a time convenient he sent special orders to Captain Boanerges to summons Man- soul, the whole of the townsmen, into the castle yard, and then and there before their faces to take my Lord Understanding, Mr. Conscience, THE HOLY WAR. 409 and that notable one, the Lord Will-be-will, and put them all three in ward, and that they should set a strong guard upon them there until his pleasure concerning them were further known. The which orders, when the captains had put them in execution, made no small addition to the fears of the town of Man- soul ; for now, to their thinking, were their former fears of the ruin of Mansoul confirmed. Now, what death they should die and how long they should he in dying was that which most per- plexed their heads and hearts; yea, they were afraid that Emmanuel would command them all into the deep, the place that the prince Diaholus was afraid of ; for they knew that they had deserved it: also to die by the sword, in the face of the town and in the open way of disgrace, from the hand of so good and so holy a Prince, that too troubled them sore. The town was also greatly troubled for the men that were committed to ward, for that they were their stay and their guide, and for that they believed that if those men were cut off, their execution would be hut the beginning of the ruin of the town of Mansoul. Wherefore, what do they hut, together with the men in prison, draw up a petition to the Prince and send it to Emmanuel by the hand of Mr. Would-live? So he went and came to the Prince’s quarters, and presented the petition, the sum of which was this: “Great and won- derful Potentate, victor over Diaholus, and conqueror of the town of Mansoul: We, the miserable inhabitants of that most woeful cor- poration, do humbly beg that we may find favour in thy sight, and remember not against us former transgressions, nor yet the sins of the chief of our town, hut spare us according to the greatness of thy mercy, and let us not die, but live in thy sight; so shall we be will- ing to be thy servants, and, if thou shalt think fit, to gather our meat under thy table. Amen.” So the petitioner went, as was said, with this petition to the Prince, and the Prince took it at his hand, hut sent him away with silence. This still afflicted the town of Mansoul; hut yet, considering that now they must either petition or die, for now they could not do any thing else, therefore they consulted again and sent another petition, and this petition was much after the form and method of the former. But when the petition was drawn up, by whom should they send it was the next ques- tion ; for they would not send this by him by whom they sent the first, (for they thought that the Prince had taken some offence at the man- ner of his deportment before him,) so they at- tempted to make Captain Conviction their messenger witli it; hut he said that he neither durst nor would petition Emmanuel for trai- tors, nor be to the Prince an advocate for rebels. Yet withal, said he, our Prince is good, and you may adventure to send it by the hand of one of your town, provided he went with a rope about his head and pleaded noth- ing but mercy. Well, they made through fear their delays as long as they could, and longer than delays were good; hut fearing at last the dangerousness of them, they thought, but with many a fainting in their minds, to send their petition by Mr. Desires-awake ; so they sent for Mr. Desires- awake. Now he dwelt in a very mean cottage in Mansoul, and he came at his neighbours’ request. So they told him what they had done, and what they would do concerning petitioning, and that they did desire of him that he would go therewith to the Prince. Then said Mr. Desires-awake, “ Why should not I do the best I can to save so famous a town as Mansoul from deserved destruction?” They therefore delivered the petition to him, and told him how he must address himself to the Prince, and wished him ten thousand good-speeds. So lie comes to the Prince’s pavilion, as the first, and asked to speak with his Majesty; so word was carried to Emmanuel, and the Prince came out to the man. When Mr. Desires-awake saw the Prince he fell flat with his face to the ground and cried out, “Oh that Mansoul might live before thee!” And with that he presented the petition ; the which when the Prince had read, he turned away for awhile and wept, but refraining him- self, he turned again to the man (who all this while lay crying at his feet as at the first) and said, “Go thy way to thy place, and I will con- sider of thy requests.” Now you may think that they of Mansoul that had sent him, what with guilt and what with fear lest their petition should be rejected, could not but look with many a long look, and that too with many strange workings of heart, to see what would become of their petition ; at last they saw their messenger coming back; so when he was come they asked him lrow he fared, what Emmanuel said, and what was be- come of the petition? But he told them that he would be silent till he came to the prison to my lord mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and 410 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Mr. Recorder. So he went forward towards the prison-house, where the men of Mansoul lay bound. But oh what a multitude flocked after to hear what the messenger said! So when he was come and had shown himself at the gate of the prison, my lord mayor himself looked as white as a clout, the recorder also did quake, but they asked and said, “Come, good sir, what did the great Prince say to you?” Then said Mr. Deskes-awake, “ When I came to my Lord’s pavilion, I called and he came ffrth; so I fell prostrate at his feet and de- livered to him my petition, (for the greatness of his person and the glory of his countenance would not suffer me to stand upon my legs.) Now as he received the petition I cried, Oh that Mansoul might still live before thee! So when for a while he had looked thereon, he turned him about and said to his servant, ‘ Go thy way to thy place again, and I will consider of thy requests.’ ” The messenger added, more- over, and said, “The Prince to whom you sent me is such a one for beauty and glory that whoso sees him must both love and fear him: I, for my part, can do no less ; but I know not what will be the end of these things.” At this answer they were all at a stand, both they in prison and they that followed the messenger thither tr> hear the news; nor knew they what or what manner of interpretation to put upon what the Prince had said. Now when the prison was cleared of the throng the prisoners among themselves began to comment upon Emmanuel’s words. My lord mayor said that the answer did not look with a rugged face ; but Will-be-will said it betokened evil; and the recorder, that it was a messenger of death. Now, they that were left and that stood be- hind, and so could not so well hear what the prisoners said, some of them catched hold of one piece of a sentence and some on a bit of another; some took hold of what the messen- ger said, and some of the prisoners’ judgment thereon ; so none had the right understanding of things; but you cannot imagine what work these people made and what a confusion there was in Mansoul now. For presently they that had heard what was said flew about the town, one crying one thing, and another the quite contrary, and both were sure enough they told true ; for they did hear, they said, with their ears what was said, and therefore could not be deceived. One would say, “ We must all be killed ;” an- other would say, “ We must all be saved ;” and a third would say, “That the Prince would not be concerned with Mansoul and a fourth, “ That the prisoners must be sud- denly put to death.” And, as I said, every one stood to it that he told his tale the Tight- est, and that all others but he were out. Wherefore Mansoul had now molestation upon molestation, nor could any man know on what to rest the sole of his foot ; for one would go by now, and as he went, if he heard his neigh- bour tell his tale, to be sure he would tell the quite contrary, and both would stand in it that he told the truth. Nay, some of them had got this story by the end, “That the Prince did intend to put Mansoul to the sword.” And now it began to be dark ; wherefore poor Mansoul was in sad per- plexity all that night until the morning. But, so far as I could gather by the best information that I could get, all this hubbub came through the words that the recorder said when he told them that in his judgment the Prince’s answer was a messenger of death. It was this that fired the town and that began the fright in Mansoul ; for Mansoul, in former times, did use to count that Mr. Recorder was a seer, and that his sentence was equal to the best of oracles; and thus was Mansoul a terror to itself. And now did they begin to feel what was the effects of stubborn rebellion and unlawful resistance against their Prince. I say they now began to feel the effects thereof by guilt and fear, that now had swallowed them up; and who more involved in the one but they that were most in the other — to wit, the chief of the town of Mansoul? To be brief, when the fame of the fright was out of the town, and the prisoners had a little recovered themselves, they take to them- selves some heart and think to jxetition the Prince for life again. So they did draw up a third petition, the contents whereof were these : “ Prince Emmanuel the Great, Lord of all worlds and Master of mercy, we, thy poor, wretched, miserable, dying town of Mansoul, do confess unto thy great and glorious Ma- jesty that we have sinned against thy Father and thee, and are no more worthy to be called thy Mansoul, but rather to be cast into the pit. If thou wilt slay us, we have deserved it. If thou wilt condemn us to the deep, we can- not but say thou art righteous. We cannot complain whatever thou dost or however thou carriest it towards us. But oh let mercy reign, and let it be extended to us ! Oh let mercy THE HOLY II’. IT?. take hold upon us ami free us from our trans- gressions, and we will sing of thy mercy and of thy judgment. Amen.” This petition, when drawn up, was designed to be sent to the Prince, as the first; but who should carry it? that was the question. Some said, “Let him do it that went with the first;” but others thought not good to do that, and that because he sped no better. Now there was an old man in the town, and his name was Mr. Good-deed, a man that bare only the name, but had nothing of the nature of the thing: now’ some were for sending him, but the recorder was by no means for that; “For,” said he, “w r e now stand in need of and are pleading for mercy ; wherefore to send our petition by a man of this name will seem to cross the petition itself. Should we make Mr. Good-deed our messenger when our position cries for mercy ? “ Besides,” quoth the old gentleman, “ should the Prince, now’ as he receives the petition, ask him and say, What is thy name? as nobody knows but he will, and he should say, Old Good-deed ; what think you would Emmanuel say but this, Ay ! is old Good-deed yet alive in Mansoul? Then let old Good-deed save you from your distresses. And if he says so, I am sure w r e are iost, nor can a thousand of old Good-deeds save Mansoul.” After the recorder had given in his reasons why old Good-deed should not go with this petition to Emmanuel, the rest of the prison- ers and chief of Mansoul opposed it also ; and so old Good-deed was laid aside, and they agreed to send Mr. Desires-awake again ; so they sent for him, and desired him that he would a second time go with their petition to the Prince, and he readily told them he would. But they bid him that in anywise lie would take heed that in no word or carriage he gave offence to the Prince; For by doing so, for aught we can tell, you may bring Mansoul into utter destruction, said they. Now’ Mr. Desires-awake, when he saw that he must go of this errand, besought that they would grant that Mr. Wet-eyes might go with him. Now' this Wet-eyes was a near neigh- bour of Mr. Desires, a poor man, a man of a broken spirit, yet one that could speak well to a petition. So they granted that he should go with him. Wherefore they addressed them- selves to their business : Mr. Desires put a rope upon his head, and Mr. Wet-eyes went with hands wringing together. Thus they went to the Prince’s pavilion. 411 Now when they went, to petition this third time they w’ere not without thoughts that by often coming they might be a burden to the Prince. Wherefore, when they were come to the door of his pavilion, they first made their apology for themselves and for their coming to trouble Emmanuel so often, and they said that they came not hither to-day for that they delighted in being troublesome, or for that they delighted to hear themselves talk, but for that necessity caused them to come to his Majesty; they could, they said, have no rest day nor night because of their transgressions against Shaddai and against Emmanuel his Son. They also thought that some misbe- haviour of Mr. Desires-awake the last time might give distaste to his Highness, and so caused that he returned from so merciful a Prince empty and without countenance. So when they had made this apology, Mr. Desires- aw’ake cast himself prostrate upon the ground as at first, at the feet of the mighty Prince, saying, “ Oh that Mansoul might live before thee!” and so he delivered -his petition. The Prince then, having read the petition, turned aside aw'liile as before, and coming again to the place where the petitioner lay on the ground, he demanded what his name was, and of what esteem in the account of Mansoul, for that he, above all the multitude of Mansoul, should be sent to him upon such an errand ? Then said the man to the Prince, “ Oh let not my Lord be angry, and why inquirest thou after the name of such a dead dog as I am? Pass by, I pray thee, and take no notice of who I am, because there is, as thou very well knowest, so great a disproportion between me and thee. Why the townsmen chose to send me on this errand to my Lord is best known to themselves ; but it could not be for that they thought that I had favour with my Lord. For my part, I am out of charity with myself: who then should be in love with me? Vet live I W’Ould, and so would I that my towns- men should ; and because both they and my- self are guilty of great transgressions, therefore they have sent me, and I am come in their names to beg of my Lord for mercy. Let it please thee therefore to incline to mercy, but ask not what thv servants are.” Then said the Prince, “ And what is he that is become thy companion in so weighty a mat- ter?” So Mr. Desires told Emmanuel that he was a poor neighbour of his and one of his most intimate associates, and his name, said he, may it please your most excellent Majesty, 412 EUNYAN’S COMPLETE WOEKS. is Wet-eyes, of the town of Mansoul. I know that there are many of that name that are naught; hut I hope it will be no offence to my Lord that I have brought my poor neighbour with me. Then Mr. Wet-eyes fell on his face to the ground, and made this apology for his coming with his neighbour to my Lord. “ 0 my Lord, (quoth he,) what I am I know not myself, nor whether my name be feigned or true, especially when I begin to think what some have said— namely, that this name was given me because Mr. Repentance was my father. Good men have bad children, and the sincere do oftentimes beget hypocrites. My mother also called me by this name from my cradle, but whether because of the moistness of my brain, or because of the softness of my heart, I cannot tell. I see dirt in mine own tears and filthiness in the bottom of my prayers. But I pray thee (and all this Avhile the gentle- man wept) that thou wouldst not remember against us our transgressions, nor take offence at the unqualifiedness of thy servants, but mercifully pass by the sin of Mansoul, and refrain from the glorifying of thy grace no longer.” So at his bidding they arose and both stood trembling before him, and he spake to them to this purpose : “ The town of Mansoul hath grievously re- belled against my Father, in that they have rejected him from being their King, and did choose to themselves for their captain a liar, a murderer, and a runagate slave. For this Diabolus and your pretended prince, though one so highly accounted of by you, made re- bellion against, my Father and me, even in our palace and the highest court there, thinking to become a prince and king. But being there timely discovered and apprehended, and for his wickedness bound in chains and separated to the pit with those that were his companions, he offered himself to you, and you have re- ceived him. “ Now this is, and for a long time hath been, an high affront to my P'ather; wherefore my Father sent to you a powerful army to reduce you to your obedience. But you know how those men, their captains and their counsels were esteemed of you, and what they received at your hand. You rebelled against them, you shut your gates upon them, you bid them bat- tle, you fought them, and fought for Diabolus against them. So they sent to my Father for more power, and I with my men am come to subdue you. But as you treated the servants, so you treated their Lord. You stood up in hostile manner against me ; you shut up your gates against me ; you turned a deaf ear to me and resisted as long as you could ; but now I have made a conquest of you. Did you cry me mercy so long as you had hopes that you might prevail against me? But now I have taken the town, you cry ; but why did you not cry before, when the white flag of mercy, and the red flag of justice, and the black flag that threatened execution were set up to cite you to it? Now I have conquered your Diabolus, you come to me for favour ; but why did you not help me against the mighty ? Yet I will consider your petition, and will answer it so as will be for my glory. “ Go bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction bring the prisoners out to me into the camp to-morrow ; and say you to Captain Judgment and Captain Execution, Stay you in the castle, and take good heed to yourselves that you keep all quiet in Mansoul until you shall hear further from me.” And with that he turned himself from them and went to his royal pavilion again. So the petitioners, having received this an- swer from the Prince, returned, as at first, to go to their companions again. But they had not gone far but thoughts began to work in their minds that no mercy as yet was intended by the Prince to Mansoul. So they went to the place where the prisoners lay bound; but these workings of mind about what would be- come of Mansoul had such strong power over them that by that they were come unto them that sent them they were scarce able to deliver their message. But they came at length to the gates of the town, (now the townsmen with earnestness were Avaiting for their return,) Avhere many met them to knoAV Avliat answer Avas made to the petition. Then they cried out to those that Avere sent, “ What neAVS from the Prince? and what hath Emmanuel said?” But they said that they must, as before, go up to the prison and there deliver their message. So aAvay they Avent to the prison, Avith a multitude at their heels. Noav, Avhen they Avere come to the gates of the prison they told the first part of Emmanuel’s speech to the prisoners — to Avit, Iaoav he reflected upon their disloyalty to his Father and himself, and Iioav they had chosen and closed Avith Diabolus, had fought for him, hearkened to him, and been ruled by him, but had despised him and his men. This made THE IIOLY WAR. 413 the prisoners look pale; but the messengers proceeded and said, “ He, the Prince, said moreover that yet he would consider your pe- tition and give such answer thereto as would stand with his glory.” And as these words were spoken, Mr. Wet-eyes gave a great sigh. At this they were all of them struck into their dumps, and could not tell what to say. Fear also possessed them in a marvellous manner, and death seemed to sit upon some of their eyebrows. Now, there was in the com- pany a notable sharp-witted fellow, a mean man of estate, and his name was old Inquis- itive; this man asked the petitioners if they had told out every whit of what Emmanuel said. And they answered, “ Verily, no.” Then said Inquisitive, “ I thought so indeed. Pray what was it more that he said unto you?” Then they paused awhile, but at last they brought out all, saying, “ The Prince ordered us to bid Captain Boanerges and Captain Con- viction bring the prisoners down to him to- morrow, and that Captain Judgment and Cap- tain Execution should take charge of the castle and town till they should hear further from him.” They said also that when the Prince had commanded them thus to do, he immedi- ately turned his back upon them and went into his royal pavilion. But oh how this return, and especially this last clause of it, that the prisoners must go out to the Prince into the camp, broke all their loins in pieces ! Wherefore with one voice they set up a cry that reached up to the heavens. This done, each of the three prepared himself to die, (and the recorder said unto them, “This was the thing that I feared,”) for they concluded that to-morrow, by that the sun went down, they should be tumbled out of the world. The whole town also counted of no other but that in their time and order they must all drink of the same cup. Wherefore the town of Man- soul spent that night in mourning, and sack- cloth, and ashes. The prisoners also, when the time was come for them to go down before the Prince, dressed themselves in mourning at- tire, with ropes upon their necks. The whole town of Mansoul also showed themselves upon the wall, all clad in mourning weeds, if per- haps the Prince with the sight thereof might be moved with compassion. But oh how the busybodies that were in the town of Mansoul did now concern themselves ! They ran here and there through the streets of the town by companies, crying out as they ran in tumult- uous-wise, one after one manner, and another the quite contrary, to the almost utter distrac- tion of Mansoul. Well, the time is come that the prisoners must go down to the camp and appear before the Prince. And thus was the manner of their going down : Captain Boanerges went with a guard before them, and Captain Conviction came behind, and the prisoners went down bound in chains in the midst; so I say the prisoners went in the midst, and the guard went with flying colours behind and before, but the prisoners went with drooping spirits. Or, more particularly, thus : The prisoners went down all in mourning ; they put ropes upon themselves ; they went on smiting of themselves on the breast, but durst not lift up their eyes to heaven. Thus they went out at the gate of Mansoul till they came into the midst of the Prince’s army, the sight and glory of which did greatly heighten their affliction. Nor could they now longer forbear but cry out aloud, O unhappy men! 0 wretched men of Mansoul 1 Their chains, still mixing their dolorous notes with the cries of the prisoners, made the noise more lament- able. So, when they were come to the door of the Prince’s pavilion, they cast themselves pros- trate upon the place. Then one went in and told the Lord that the prisoners were come down. The Prince then ascended a throne of state, and sent for the prisoners in ; who, when they came, did tremble before him ; also they covered their faces with shame. Now as they drew nearer to the place where he sat they threw themselves down before him. Then said the Prince to the Captain Boanerges, Bid the prisoners stand upon their feet. They then stood trembling before him, and he said, Are you the men that heretofore were the servants of Shaddai? And they said, Yes, Lord, yes. Then said the Prince again, Are you the men that did suffer yourselves to be corrupted and defiled by that abominable one, Diabolus? And they said, We did more than suffer it, Lord, for we chose it of our own mind. The Prince asked further, saying, Could you have been content that your slavery should have continued under his tyranny as long as you had lived? Then said the prisoners, Yes, Lord, yes, for his ways were pleasing to our flesh, and we were grown aliens to a better state. And did you, said he, when I came up against this town of Mansoul, heartily wish that I might not have the victory over you? Yes, Lord, yes, said they. Then said the 414 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Prince, And wliat punishment is it, think you, that you deserve at my hand for these and other your high and mighty sins? And they said, Both death and the deep, Lord, for we have deserved no less. He asked again, If they had aught to say for themselves why the sentence that they confessed that they had de- served should not be passed upon them? And they said, We can say nothing, Lord ; thou art just, for we have sinned. Then said the Prince, And for what are these ropes on your necks ? The prisoners answered, These ropes are to bind us withal to the place of execution, if mercy be not pleasing in thy sight. So he further asked, If all the men in the town of Mansoul were in this confession as they? And they answered. All the natives, Lord ; but for the Diabolonians that came into our town tvhen the tyrant got posses^m of us, we can say nothing of them. Then the Prince commanded that an herald should be called, and that he should in the midst and throughout the camp of Emmanuel proclaim, and that with sound of trumpet, that the Prince, the Son of Shaddai, had in his Father’s name and for his Father’s glory, gotten a perfect conquest and victory over Man- soul, and that the prisoners should follow him and say, Amen. So this was done as he had commanded. And presently the music that was in the upper regions sounded melodiously. The captains that were in the camp shouted, and the soldiers did sing songs of triumph to the Prince, the colours waved in the wind, and great joy was everywhere; only it was wanting as yet in the hearts of the men of Mansoul. Then the Prince called for the prisoners to come and to stand again before him ; and they came and stood trembling. And he said unto them, The sins, trespasses, iniquities that you, with the whole town of Mansoul. have from time to time committed against my Father and me, ' I have power and commandment from my Father to forgive to the town of Mansoul ; and do forgive you accordingly. And having so said, he gave them, written in parchment and sealed with several seals, a large and general pardon, commanding both my lord mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder to proclaim and cause it to be proclaimed to-morrow, by that the sun is up, throughout the whole town of Mansoul. More- over, the Prince stripped the prisoners of their mourning weeds, and gave them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heavi- ness. Then he gave to each of the three jewels of gold and precious stones, and took away their ropes, and put chains of gold about their necks and ear-rings in their ears. Now the prisoners, when they did hear the gracious words of Prince Emmanuel, and had beheld all that was done unto them, fainted almost quite away ; for the grace, the benefit, the pardon were so sudden, so glorious, and so big that they were not able, without stagger- ing, to stand up under it. Yea, my Lord Will-be-will swooned outright, but the Prince stept to him, put his everlasting arms under him, embraced him, kissed him, and bid him be of good cheer, for all should be performed according to his word. He also did kiss and embvace and smile upon the other two that were Will-be-will’s companions, saying, Take these as further tokens of my love, favour and compassion to you ; and I charge you that you, Mr. Recorder, tell in the town of Mansoul what you have heard and seen. Then were their fetters broken to pieces before their faces and cast into the air, and their steps were enlarged under them. Then they fell doAvn at the feet of the Prince, and kissed his feet and Avetted them Avith tears; also they cried out Avith a mighty strong voice, saying, Blessed be the glory of the Lord from this place ! So they Avere bid rise up, and go to the town, and tell to Man- soul what the Prince had done. He com- manded also that one Avith a pipe and tabour should go and play before them all the Avay into the toAA’n of Mansoul. Then was fulfilled Avhat they neA T er looked for, and they were made to possess that Avhich they never dreamed of. The Prince also called for the noble Cap- tain Credence, and commanded that he and some of his officers should march before the noblemen of Mansoul with flying Colours into the tOAvn. He gave also unto Captain Cre- dence a charge that about the time that the re- corder did read the general pardon in the town of Mansoul, that at that very time he should, Avith flying colours, march in at Eve- gate Avith his ten thousand at his feet, and that he should so go until he came by the high street of the tOAvn up to the castle-gates, and that himself should take possession there- of against his Lord came thither. He com- manded, moreover, that he should bid Cap- tain Judgment and Captain Execution to leave the stronghold to him, and to withdratv TIIE HOLY WAR. from Mansoul, and to return into the camp with speed unto the Prince. And now was the town of Mansoul also de- livered from the terror of the first four cap- tains and their men. Well, I told you before how the prisoners were entertained by the noble Prince Emman- uel, and how they behaved themselves before him, and how he sent them away to their home with pipe and tabour going before them. And now you must think that those of the town that had all this while waited to hear of their death could not but be exercised with sadness of mind and with thoughts that pricked like thorns. Nor could their thoughts be kept to any one point. The wind blew them all this while at great uncertainties ; yea, their hearts were like a balance that had been disquieted with a shaken hand. But at last as they, with many a long look, looked over the wall of Mansoul, they thought that they saw some returning to the town; and thought again, Who should they be too, who should they be? At last they discerned that they were the prisoners ; but can you imagine how their hearts were surprised with wonder, especially when they perceived also in what equipage and with what honour they were sent home ! They went down to the camp in black, but they came back to the town in white ; they went down to the camp in ropes, they came back in chains of gold ; they went down to the camp with their feet in fetters, but came back with their steps enlarged under them ; they went also to the camp looking for death, but they came back from thence with assurance of life ; they went down to the camp with heavy hearts, but came back again with pipe and tabour playing before them. As soon as they were come to Eye-gate, the poor and tottering town of Mansoul adventured to give a shout ; and they gave such a shout as made the captains in the Prince’s army leap at the sound thereof. Alas for them, poor hearts! who could blame them, since their dead friends were come to life again? for it was to them as life from the dead to see the ancients of the town of Man- soul shine in such splendour. They looked for nothing but the axe and the block, but behold joy and gladness, comfort and consola- tion, and such melodious notes attending them as were sufficient to make a sick man well. So when they came, up they saluted each other with Welcome, welcome, and blessed be He that has spared you ! They added also, We 4 In see it is well with you, but how must it. go with the town of Mansoul? and will it go well with the town of Mansoul? said they. Then answered them the recorder, and my lord mayor, Oh, tidings ! glad tidings! good tidings of good and of great joy to poor Mansoul ! Then they gave another shout that made the earth to ring again. After this they inquired yet more particularly how things went in the camp, and what message they had from Em- manuel to the town. So they told them all the passages that had happened to them at the camp, and everything that the Prince did to them. This made Mansoul wonder at the wis- dom and grace of the Prince Emmanuel; then they told them what they had received at his hands for the whole town of Mansoul ; and the recorder delivered it in these words: Pardon, Pardon, Pardon for Mansoul ! and this shall Mansoul know to-morrow. Then he com- manded, and they went and summoned Man- soul to meet together in the market-place to- morrow, there to hear their general pardon read. But who can think what a turn, what a change, what an alteration, this hint of things did make in the countenance of the town of Mansoul! No man of Mansoul could sleep that night for joy; in every house there was joy and music, singing and making merry ; telling and hearing of Manscul’s happiness was then all that Mansoul had to do ; and this was the burden of all their song : Oh, more of this at the rising of the sun ! more of this to- morrow ! Who thought yesterday, would one say, that this day would have been such a day to us? And who thought that saw our prison- ers go down in irons that they would have returned in chains of gold? Yea, they that judged themselves as they went to be judged of their judge were by his mouth acquitted, not for that they were innocent, but of the Prince’s mercy, and sent home with pipe and tabour. But is this the common custom cf princes? do they use to show such kind of favours to traitors? No! This is only peculiar to Shad- dai and unto Emmanuel his Son. Now morning drew on apace, wherefore the lord mayor, the Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder came down to the market-place at the time the Prince had appointed, where the townsfolk were waiting for them ; and when they came they came in that attire and in that I glory that the Prince had put them into the I day before, and the street was lightened with 416 B UNTAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. their glory. So the mayor, recorder, and my Lord Will-be-will drew down to Mouth-gate, which was at the lower end of the market- place, because that of old time was the place where they used to read public matters. Thither, therefore, they came in their robes, and their tabour went before them. Now the eagerness of the people to know the full of the matter was great. Then the recorder stood up upon his feet, and first beckoning with his hand for a silence, he read out with a loud voice the pardon. But when he came to these words, The Lord, the Lord God, is merciful and gracious, pardoning iniquity, transgressions, and sins, and to them all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be for- given, &c., they could not forbear but leap for joy. For this you must know that there was conjoined herewith every man’s name in Man- soul ; also the seals of the pardon made a brave show. When the recorder had made an end of reading the pardon, the townsmen ran upon the walls of the tow'n and leaped and skipped thereon for joy, and bowed themselves seven times with their faces towards Emmanuel’s pavilion, and shouted out aloud for joy, and said, Let Emmanuel live for ever! Then order was given to the young men in Mansoul that they should ring the bells for joy. So the bells did ring, and the people sing, and the music played in every house in Mansoul. When the prince had sent home the three prisoners of Mansoul with joy and pipe and tabour, he commanded his captains, with all the field-officers and soldiers throughout his army, to be ready on the morning that the recorder should read the pardon in Mansoul to do his further pleasure. So the morning, as I have showed, being come, just as the recorder had made an end of reading the pardon, Em- manuel commanded that all the trumpets in the camp should sound, that the colours should be displayed, half of them upon Mount Gra- cious, and half of them upon Mount Justice. He commanded also, that all the captains should show themselves in their complete harness, and that the soldiers should shout for joy. Nor was Captain Credence, though in the castle, silent on such a day ; but he, from the top of the hold, showed himself with sound of trumpet to Mansoul and to the Prince’s camp. Thus have I shown you the manner and way that Emmanuel took to recover the town of Mansoul from under the hand and power of the tyrant Diabolus. Now when the Prince had completed these outward ceremonies of his joy, he again com- manded that his captains and soldiers should show unto Mansoul some feats of war. So they presently addressed themselves to this work. But oh with what agility, nimbleness, dexterity, and bravery did these military men discover their skill in feats of war to the now gazing town of Mansoul ! They marched, they countermarched, they opened to the right and left, they divided and subdivided, they closed, they wheeled, made good their front and rear with their right and left wings, and twenty things more, with that aptness, and then were all as they were again, that they took, yea, ravished, the hearts that were in Mansoul to behold it. But add to this the handling of their arms, the managing of their weapons of war were marvellous taking to Mansoul and me. When this action was over the whole town of Mansoul came out as one man to the Prince in the camp to thank him and praise him for his abundant favour, and to beg that it would please his Grace to come unto Mansoul with his men, and there to take up their quarters for ever. And this they did in most humble man- ner, bowing themselves seven times to the ground before him. Then said he, “ All peace be to you ! ” so the town came nigh, and touch- ed with the hand the top of his golden sceptre, and they said, Oh that the Prince Emmanuel, with his captains and men of war, would dwell in JMansoul for ever, and that his battering- rams and slings might be lodged in her for the use and service of the Prince and for the help and strength of Mansoul ! For, said they, we have room for thee, we have also room for thy men, we have also room for thy weapons of war, and a place to make a magazine for thy carriages. Do it, Emmanuel, and thou shalt be king and captain in Mansoul for ever. Yea, govern thou also according to all the desire of thy soul, and make thou governors and princes under thee of thy captains and men of war, and we will become thy servants and thy laws shall be our direction. They added, moreover, and prayed his Majesty to consider thereof; for, said they, if now after all this grace bestowed upon us thy miserable town of Mansoul, thou shouldest withdraw, thou and thy captains from us, the town of Mansoul will die. Yea, said they, our blessed Emmanuel, if thou shouldest depart from us now, after thou hast done so much good for us and showed so much mercy unto THE HOLY WAR. 417 us, what will follow but that our joy will be as if it had not been, and our enemies will a second time come upon us with more rage than at the first? Wherefore we beseech thee, O thou the desire of our eyes and the strength and life of our poor town, accept of this motion that now we have made unto our Lord, and come and dwell in the midst of us, and let us be thy people. Besides, Lord, we do not know but that to this day many Diabolonians may be yet lurking in the town of Mansoul, and they will betray us, when thou shalt leave us, into the hand of Diabolus again ; and who knows what designs, plots, or contrivances have passed betwixt them about these things already ? Loth we are to fall again into his horrible hands. Wherefore let it please thee to accept of our palace for thy place of residence, and of the houses of the best men in our town for the re- ception of thy soldiers and their furniture. Then said the Prince, “ If I come to your town, will you suffer me further to prosecute that which is in mine heart against mine enemies and yours? yea, will you help me in such undertakings?” They answered, We know not what we shall 'do. We did not think once that we should have been such traitors to Shaddai as we have proved to be; what then shall we say to our Lord? Let him put no trust in his saints ; let the Prince dwell in our castle, and make of our town a garrison ; let him set his noble captains and his warlike soldiers over us. Yea, let him conquer with his love and overcome us with his grace, and help us, as he did that morning our pardon was read unto us ; so shall we com- ply with this our Lord and with his ways, and fall in with his word against the mighty. One word more, and thy servants have done, and in this will trouble our Lord no more. We know not the depth of the wisdom of thee, our Prince. Who could have thought, that had been ruled by his reason, that so much sweet as we do now enjoy should have come out of those bitter trials wherewith we were tried at the first ? but, Lord, let light go before, and let love come after; yea, take us by the hand and lead us by thy counsels, and let this always abide upon us, that all things shall be for the best for thy servants, and come to our Mansoul and do as it pleaseth thee. 0 Lord, come to our Mansoul ; do what thou wilt, so thou keepest us from sinning and makest us serviceable to thy Majesty. Then said the Prince to the town of Mansoul again, “ Go, return to your houses in peace. I 27 will willingly in this comply with your desires. I will remove my royal pavilion, I will draw up my forces before Eye-gate to-morrow, and so will march forwards into the town of Man- soul. I will possess myself of your castle of Mansoul, and will set my soldiers over you; yea, I will yet do things in Mansoul that can- not be paralleled in any nation, country, and kingdom under heaven.” Then did the men of Mansoul give a shout, and returned unto their houses in peace; they also told to their kindred and friends the good that Emmanuel had promised to Mansoul. And to-morrow, said they, he will march into our town and take up his dwelling, he and his men, in Mansoul. Then went out the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul with haste to the green trees and to the meadows to gather boughs and flowers, wherewith to strew the streets against their Prince, the Son of Shaddai, should come; they also made garlands and other fine works, to betoken how joyful they were and should be to receive their Emmanuel into Mansoul ; yea, they strewed the street quite from Eve- gate to the castle-gate, the place where the Prince should be. They also prepared for his coming wh&t music the town of Mansoul could afford, that they might play before him to the palace, his habitation. So at the time appointed he makes his ap- proach to Mansoul, and the gates were set open for him ; there also the ancients and elders of Mansoul met him to salute him with a thou- sand welcomes. Then he arose and entered Mansoul, he and all his servants. The elders of Mansoul did also go dancing before him till he came to the castle-gates. And this was the manner of his going up thither: He was clad in his golden armour, he rode in his royal chariot, the trumpets sounded about him, the colours were displayed, his ten thousands went up at his feet, and the elders of Mansoul danced before him. And now were the walls of the famous town of Mansoul filled with the tramplings of the inhabitants thereof, who went up thither to view the approach of the blessed Prince and his royal army. Also the casements, windows, balconies and tops of the houses were all now filled with persons of all sorts, to behold how their town was to be filled with good. Now r , when he was come so far into the town as to the recorder’s house he commanded that one should go to Captain Credence, to know whether the castle of Mansoul was prepared 418 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to entertain his) Royal Presence, (for the prep- aration of that was left to that captain ; ) and word was brought that it was. Then was Captain Credence commanded also to come forth with his power to meet the Prince; the which was, as he had commanded, done, and he conducted him into the castle. This done, the Prince that night did lodge in the castle with his mighty captains and men of war, to the joy of the town of Mansoul. Now the next care of the townsfolk was, how the captains and soldiers of the Prince’s army should be quartered among them; and the care was not how they should shut their hands of them, but how they should fill their houses with them ; for every man in Mansoul now had that esteem of Emmanuel and his men that nothing grieved them more than because they were not enlarged enough, every one of them, to receive the whole army of the 1 Prince; yea, they counted it their glory to be waiting upon them, and would in those days run at their bidding like lackeys. At last they came to this result : 1. That Captain Innocency should quarter at Mr. Reason’s. 2. That Captain Patience should quarter at Mr. Mind’s. This Mr. Mind was formerly the Lord Will-be-will’s clerk, in time of the late rebellion. 3. It was ordered that Captain Charity should quarter at Mr. Affection’s house. 4. That Captain Good-hope should quarter at my lord mayor’s. Now for the house of the recorder, himself desired, because his house was next to the castle, and because from him it was ordered by the Prince that if need be the alarm should be given to Mansoul, — it was, I say, desired by him that Captain Boanerges and Captain Conviction should take up their quarters with him, even they and all their men. 5. As for Captain . Judgment and Captain Execution, my Lord Will-be-will took (hem and their men to him, because he was to rule under the Prince for the good of the town of Mansoul now, as he had before under the ty- rant Diabolus for the hurt and damage there- of. 6. And throughout the rest of the town were quartered Emmanuel’s forces, but Captain Credence with his men abode still in the castle. So the Prince, his captains, and his soldiers were lodged in the town of Mansoul. Now the ancients and elders of the towm of Mansoul thought that they never should have enough of the Prince Emmanuel ; his person, his actions, his words, and behaviour w'ere so pleasing, so taking, so desirable to them. Wherefore they prayed him that though the castle of Mansoul was his place of residence, (and they desired that he might dwell there for ever,) yet that he would often visit the streets, houses, and people of Mansoul; for said they, Dread Sovereign, thy presence, thy looks, thy smiles, thy words are the life, and strength, and sinews of the town of Man- soul. Besides this, they craved that they might have, without difficulty or interruption, con- tinual access unto him, (so for that very pur- pose he commanded that the gates should stand open,) that they might there see the maimer of his doings, the fortifications of the place, and the royal mansion-house of the Prince. When he spake they all stopped their mouths and gave audience ; and when he walked it was their delight to imitate him in his goings. Nowq upon a time Emmanuel made a feast for the towm of Mansoul, and upon the feast- ing-day the townsfolk were come to the castle to partake of his banquet. And he feasted them with all manner of outlandish food — food that grew not in the fields of Mansoul nor in all the whole kingdom - of Universe. It was food that came from his Father’s court. And so there was dish after dish set before them, and they were commanded freely to eat. But still, when a fresh dish was set before them, they would whisperingly say to each other, What is it? for they wist not what to call it. They drank also of the water that w r as made wine, and were very merry with him. There was music also, all the while at the table, and man did eat angel’s food, and had honey given him out of the rock. So Mansoul did eat the food that was peculiar to the court ; yea, they had now thereof to the full. I must not forget to tell you that as at this table there were musicians, so they were not those of the country nor yet of the town of Mansoul ; but they were the masters of the songs that were sung at the court of Shaddai. Now, after the feast was over Emmanuel was for entertaining the town of Mansoul 'with some curious riddles of secrets drawn up by his Father’s secretary, by the skill and wisdom of Shaddai : the like to these there is not in any kingdom. These riddles were made upon the King Shaddai himself, and upon Em- TIIE HOLY TIM R. 419 manuel his Son, and upon his wars and doings with Mansoul. Emmanuel also expounded unto them some of those riddles himself; hut oh how they were lightened ! They saw what they never saw ; they could not have thought that such rarities could have been couched in so few and such ordinary words. I told you before whom these riddles did concern, and as they were opened the people did evidently see it was so. Yea, they did gather that the things themselves were a kind of portraiture, and that of Em- manuel himself; for when they read in the scheme where the riddles were writ, and looked in the face of the Prince, things looked so like the one to the other that Mansoul could not forbear but say, “This is the Lamb; this is the sacrifice ; this is the rock ; this is the red cow ; this is the door ; and this is the way ; ” with a great many other things more. And thus he dismissed the town of Man- soul. But can you imagine how the people of the corporation were taken with this enter- tainment? Oh, they were transported with joy, they were drowned with wonderment, while they saw, and understood, and considered what their Emmanuel entertained them withal, and what mysteries lie opened to them ; and when they were at home in their houses, and in their most retired places, they could not but sing of him and of his actions. Yea, so taken were the townsmen now with their Prince that they would sing of him in their sleep. Now, it was in the heart of Prince Emmanuel to new-model the town of Mansoul, and to put it into such a condition as might be more pleasing to him, and that might best stand with the profit and security of the now flour- ishing town of Mansoul. He provided also against insurrections at home and invasions from abroad, such love had he for the famous town of Mansoul. Wherefore he first of all commanded that the great slings that were brought from his Father’s court when he came to the war of Mansoul should be mounted, some upon the battlements of the castle, some upon the towers, for there were towers in the town of Mansoul — towers new built by Emmanuel since he came thither. There was also an instru- ment invented by Emmanuel that was to throw stones from the castle of Mansoul out at Moutli- gate ; an instrument that could not be resisted, nor that would miss of execution ; wherefore, for the wonderful exploits that it did when used, it went without a name, and it was com- mitted to the care of and to be managed by that brave captain, the Captain Credence, in case of war. This done, Emmanuel called the Lord Will- be-will to him, and gave him in commandment to take care of the gates, the wall and towers in Mansoul ; also the Prince gave him the militia into his hand, and a special charge to withstand all insurrections and tumults that might be made in Mansoul against the peace of our Lord the King and the peace and tran- quillity of the town of Mansoul. Pie also gave him in commission that if he found any of the Diabolonians lurking in any corner of the famous town of Mansoul, he should forth- with apprehend them, and stay them or com- mit them to safe custody, that they might bo proceeded against according to law. Then he called unto him the Lord Under- standing, who was the old lord mayor, he that was put out of place when Diabolus took the town, and put him into his former office again ; and it became his place for his lifetime. He bid him also that he should build him a palace near Eye-gate, and that he should build it in fashion like a tower for defence. He bid him also that he should read in the revelation of mysteries all the days of his life, that he might know how to perform his office aright. He also made Mr. Knowledge the recorder; not of contempt to old Mr. Conscience, who had been recorder before, but for that it was in his princely mind to confer upon Mr. Con- science another employ, of which he told the old gentleman he should know more hereafter. Then he commanded that the image of Diab- olus should be taken down from the place where it was set up, and that they should de- stroy it utterly, beating of it into powder and casting it into the wind without the town wall ; and that the image of Shaddai his Father should be set up again, with his own, upon the castle-gates; and that it should be more fairly drawn than ever, forasmuch as both his Father and himself were come to Mansoul in more grace and mercy than heretofore. He would also that his name should be fairly engraven upon the front of the town, and that it should be done in the best of gold, for the honour of the town of Mansoul. After this was done Emmanuel gave out a commandment that those three great Diabolo- nians should be apprehended — namely, the two late lord mayors, to wit, Mr. Incredulity, Mr. Lustings, and Mr. Forget-good, the recorder. Besides these, there were some of them that 420 BUN VAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Diabolus made burgesses and aldermen in the town of Mansoul that were committed to ward by the hand of the now valiant and now right noble, the brave Lord Will-be-will. And these were their names: Alderman Atheism, Alderman Hard-heart, and Aider- man False-peaee ; the burgesses were, Mr. No- truth, Mr. Pitiless, Mr. Haughty, with the like. These were committed to close custody ; and the jailer’s name was Mr. True-man : this True-man was one of those that Emmanuel brought with him from his Father’s court when at the first he made a war upon Diabolus in the town of Mansoul. After this the Prince gave a charge that the three strongholds that at the command of Diab- olus the Diabolonians had built in Mansoul should be demolished and utterly pulled down ; of which holds and their names, with their cap- tains and governors, you read a little before. But this was long in doing, because of the largeness of the places, and because the stoues, the timber, the iron, and all rubbish were to be carried without the town. When this was done the Prince gave order that the lord mayor and aldermen of Mansoul should call a court of judicature for the trial and execution of the Diabolonians in the cor- poration, now under the charge of Mr. True- man the jailer. Now when the time was come and the court set, commandment was sent to Mr. True-man the jailer to bring the prisoners down to the bar. Then were the prisoners brought down pinioned and chained together, as the custom of the town of Mansoul was. So, when they were presented before the lord mayor, the re- corder, and the rest of the honourable bench, first the jury was empannelled and then the witnesses sworn. The names of the jury were these : Mr. Belief, Mr. True-heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hate-bad, Mr. Love-good, Mr. See-truth, Mr. Heavenly-mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thank- ful, Mr. Good-work, Mr. Zeal-for-God, and Mr. Humble. The names of the witnesses were Mr. Know- all, Mr. Tell-true, Mr. Hate-lies, with my Lord Will-be-will and his man, if need were. So the prisoners were set to the bar. Then said Mr. Do-riglit, (for he was the town-clerk,) Set Atheism to the bar, jailer. So he was set to the bar. Then said the clerk, Atheism, hold up thy hand. Thou art here indicted by the name of Atheism, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou hast perni- ciously and doltisbly taught and maintained that there is no God, and so no heed to be taken to religion. This thou hast done against the being, honour, and glory of the King, and against the peace and safety of the town of Mansoul. What sayest thou ? — art thou guilty of this indictment or not? Atheism. Not guilty. Crier. Call Mr. Know-all, Mr. Tell-true, and Mr. Hate-lies into the court. So they were called, and they appeared. Then said the clerk, You, the witnesses for the King, look upon the prisoner at the bar; do you know him ? Then said Mr. Know-all, Yes, my lord, we know him ; his name is Atheism : he has been a very pestilent fellow for many years iu the miserable town of Mansoul. Clerk. You are sure you know him? Know-all. Know him? Yes, my lord: I have heretofore too often been in his company to be at this time ignorant of him. He is a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian : I knew his grandfather and his father. Clerk. Well said; he standeth here indicted by the name of Atheism, &c., and is charged that he hath maintained and taught that there is no God, and so no heed need be taken to any religion. What say you, the King’s witnesses, to this ? Is he guilty or not ? Know-all. My lord, I and he were once in Villain’s-lane together, and he at that time did briskly talk of divers opinions, and then and there I heard him say that for bis part he did believe that there was no God. But, said he, I can profess one, and be religious too, if the company I am in and the circumstances of other things, said he, shall put me upon it. Clerk. You are sure you heard him say thus? Know-all. Upon mine oath I heard him say thus. Then said the clerk, Mr. Tell-true, what say you to the King’s judges touching the prisoner at the bar ?' Tell-true. My lord, I formerly was a great companion of his, (for the which I now repent me,) and I have often heard him say, and that with very great stomachfulness, that he be- lieved there was neither God, angel, nor spirit. Clerk. Where did you hear him say so ? Tell-true. In Blackmouth-lane and in Blas- pliemer’s-row, and in many other places be- sides. Clerk. Have you much knowledge of him ? Tell-true. I know him to be a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, and an horrible man to deny a Deity; his father’s name was Never- THE HOLY WAR. -121 be-good, and he had more children than this Atheism. I have no more to say. Clerk. Mr. Ilate-lies, look upon the prisoner al the bar; do you know him? Hate-lies. My lord, this Atheism is one of the vilest wretches that ever I came near or had to do with in my life. I have heard him say that there is no God; I have heard him say that there is no world to come, no sin, nor punishment hereafter; and, moreover, I have heard him say that it was as good to go to a whore-house as to hear a sermon. Clerk. Where did you hear him say these things? Hate-lies. In Drunkard’s-row, just at Rascal- lane’s end, at a house in which Mr. Impiety lived. Clerk. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Lust- ings to the bar. Mr. Lustings, thou art here indicted by the name of Lustings, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou hast devilishly and traitorously taught by practice and filthy words that it is lawful and profitable to man to give way to his carnal desires ; and that thou, for thy part, hast not, nor never will, deny thyself of any sinful delight as long as thy name is Lustings. How sayest thou? — art thou guilty of this indictment or not? Then said Mr. Lustings, My lord, I am a man of high birth, and have been used to pleasures and pastimes of greatness. I have not been wont to be snubbed for my doings, but have been left to follow my will as if it were law. And it seems strange to me that I should this day be called into question for that which not only I, but also all men, do either secretly or openly countenance, love, and ap- prove of. Clerk. Sir, we concern not ourselves with your greatness, though the higher the better you should have been ; but we are concerned, atid so are you now, about an indictment pre- ferred against you. How say you? — are you guilty of it or not? Lustings. Not guilty. Clerk. Crier, call upon the witnesses to stand forth and give their evidence. Crier. Gentlemen, you the witnesses for the King, come in and give in your evidence for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar. Clerk. Come, Mr. Know-all, look upon the prisoner at the bar ; do you know him ? Know-all. Yes, my lord, I know him. Clerk. What is his name ? Know-all. His name is Lustings : he was the son of one Beastly, and his mother bare him in Flesh-street; she was one Evil-concupis- cence’s daughter. I knew all the generation of them. Clerk. Well said 1 You have here heard his indictment: what say you to it?— is he guilty of the things charged against him or not? Know-all. My lord, he has, as he saith, been a great man indeed, and a greater in wickedness than by pedigree, more than a thousand-fold. Clerk. But what do you know of his partic- ular actions, and especially with reference to this indictment? Know-all. I know him to be a swearer, a liar, a sabbath-breaker; I know him to be a fornicator and an unclean person ; I know him to be guilty of abundance of evils. He has been to my knowledge a very filthy man. Clerk. But where did he use to commit his wickedness — in some private corners, or more open and shamelessly? Know-all. All the town over, my lord. Clerk. Come, Mr. Tell-true, what have you to say for our Lord the King against the pris- oner at the bar ? Tell-true. My lord, all that the first witness has said I know to be true, and a great deal more besides. Clerk. Mr. Lustings, do you hear what these gentlemen say? Lustings. I was ever of opinion that the happiest life that a man could live on earth was to keep himself back from nothing that he desired in the world ; nor have I been false at any time to this opinion of mine, but have lived in the love of my notions ’ all my days. Nor was I ever so churlish, having found such sweetness in them myself, as to keep the commendations of them from others. Then said the court, There hath proceeded enough from his own mouth to lay him open to condemnation; wherefore. set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Incredulity to the bar. Then was Incredulity set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Incredulity, thou art here in- • dieted by the name of Incredulity, (an in- truder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou hast feloniously and wickedly, and that when thou wert an officer in the town of Mansoul, made head against the captains of the great King Shaddai when they came and demanded possession of Mansoul ; yea, thou didst bid defiance to the name, forces, and 422 £ UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. cause of the King, and didst also, as did Diabolus thy captain, stir up and encourage the town of Mansoul to make head against and resist the said force of the King. What sayest thou to this indictment? — art thou guilty or not? Then said Incredulity, I know not Shaddai: I love my old prince; I thought it my duty to be true to my trust, and to do what I could to possess the minds of the men of Mansoul to do their utmost to resist strangers and foreign- ers, and with might to fight against them. Nor have I, nor shall I, change my opinion for fear of trouble, though you at present are possessed of place and power. Then said the court: The man, as you see, is incorrigible ; he is fok maintaining his vil- lainies by stoutness of words and his rebellion with impudent confidence; and therefore set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Forget-good to the bar. Forget-good was then set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Forget-good, thou art here in- dicted by the name of Forget-good, (an in- truder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou, when the whole affairs of the town of Mansoul were in thy hand, didst utterly for- get to serve them in what was good, and didst fall in with the tyrant Diabolus against Shad- dai the King, against his captains, and all his host, to the dishonour of Shaddai, the breach of his law, and the endangering of the destruc- tion of the famous town of Mansoul. What sayest thou to this indictment? — art thou guilty or not guilty? Then said Forget-good, Gentlemen, and at this time my judges, as to the indictment by which I stand of several crimes accused before you, pray attribute my forgetfulness to mine age, and not to my wilfulness; to the crazi- ness of my brain, and not to the carelessness of my mind ; and then I hope I may, by your charity, be excused from great punishment, though I be guilty. Then said the court, Forget-good, Forget- good, thy forgetfulness of good was not sim- ply of frailty, but of purpose, and for that thou didst loth to keep virtuous things in thy mind. What was bad thou couldst re- tain, hut what was good thou couldst not abide to think of; thy age therefore, and thy pretended craziness, thou makest use of to blind the court withal, and as a cloak to cover thy knavery. But let us hear what the wit- nesses have to say for the King against the prisoner at the bar. Is he guilty of this in- dictment or not? Hate-lies. My lord, I have heard this For- get-good say that he could never abide to think of goodness, no not for a quarter of an hour. Clerk. Where did you hear him say so? Hate-lies. In All-base-lane, at a house next door to the sign of the Conscience-seared-with- an-hot-iron. Clerk. Mr. Know-all, what can you say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar? Know-all. My lord, I know this man well : he is a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian ; his father’s name was Love-naught; and for him, I have often heard him say that he counted the very thoughts of goodness the most burdensome thing in the world. Clerk. Where have you heard him say these words ? Know-all. In Flesh-lane, right opposite the church. Then said the clerk, Come, Mr. Tell-true, give in your evidence concerning the prisoner at the bar, about that for which he stands here, as you see, indicted before this honourable court. Tell-true. My lord, I have heard him often say he had rather think of the vilest thing than of what is contained in the holy Scrip- tures. Clerk. Where did you hear him say such grievous words? Tell-true. Where? In a great many places; particularly in Nauseous-street, in the house of one Shameless, -and in Filth-lane, at the sign of the Reprobate, next door to the De- scent-into-the-pit. Court. Gentlemen, you have heard the in- dictment, his plea, and the testimony of the witnesses. Jailer, set Mr. IJard-heart to the bar. Hard-heart was then set to the bar. Clerk. Mr. Hard-heart, thou art here in- dicted by the name of Hard-heart, (an in- truder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst most desperately and wickedly pos- sess the town of Mansoul with impenitency and obdurateness, and didst keep them from > remorse and sorrow for their evils, all the time of their apostacy from and rebellion against the blessed King Shaddai. What sayest thou to this indictment?— art thou guilty or not guilty? Hard-heart. My lord, I never knew what re- morse or sorrow meant in all my life : I am im- penetrable; I care for no man, nor can I be THE HOLY WAR. pierced with men’s grief; their groans will not enter into my heart; whomsoever I mis- chief, whomsoever I wrong, to me it is music when to others mourning. Court. You sec the man is a right Diabolo- nian, and has convicted himself. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. False-pcace to the bar. Then was False-peace set to the bar. Court. Mr. False-peace, thou art here in- dicted by the name of False-peace, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst most wickedly and satanically bring, hold, and keep the town of Mansoul, both in her apostacy and in her hellish rebellion, in a false, groundless, and dangerous peace and damnable security, to the dishonour of the King, the transgression of his law, and the great damage of the town of Mansoul. What sayest thou? — art thou guilty of this indictment or not? Then said Mr. False-peace, Gentlemen, and you now appointed to be my judges, I acknow- ledge that my name is Mr. Peace, but that my name is False-peace I utterly deny. If your honours should please to send for any that do intimately know me, or for the midwife that laid my mother of me, or for the gossips that were at my christening, they will any or all of them prove that my name is not False-peace, but Peace. Wherefore, I cannot plead to this indictment, forasmuch as my name is not in- serted therein; and as is my true name, so also are my conditions. I was always a man that loved to live at quiet, and what I loved myself, that I thought others might love also. Wherefore, when I saw any of my neighbours to labour under a disquieted mind, I endeav- oured to help them what I could; and in- stances of this good temper of mine many I could give. As, 1. When at the beginning our town of Man- soul did decline the ways of Shaddai, some of them afterwards began to have disquieting re- flections upon themselves for what they had done; but I, as one troubled to see them dis- quieted, presently sought out means to get them quiet again. 2. When the ways of the old world and of Sodom were in fashion, if any thing happened to molest those that were for the customs of the present times, I laboured to make them quiet again -and to cause them to act without molestation. 3. To come nearer home: When the wars fell out between Shaddai and Diabolus, if at any time I saw any of the town of Mansoul afraid of destruction, I often used by some 423 way, device, invention, or other to labour to bring them to peace again. Wherefore, since I have been always the man of so virtuous a temper, as some say a peace-maker is, and if a peace-maker be so de- serving a man as some have been bold to attest he is, then let me, gentlemen, be accounted by you, who have a great name for justice and equity in Mansoul, for a man that deserveth not this inhuman way of treatment, but liberty, and also a license to seek damage of those that have been my accusers. Then said the clerk, Crier, make proclama- tion. Crier. “Oh yes; Forasmuch as the prisoner at the bar hath denied his name to be that which is mentioned in the indictment, the court requireth that if any there be in this place that can give information to the court of the original and right name of the prisoner, they would come forth and give in their evi- dence; for the prisoner stands upon his own innocence.” Then came two into the court and desired that they might have leave to speak what they knew concerning the prisoner at the bar; the name of the one was Search-truth, and the name of the other Vouch-truth. So the court demanded of these men if they knew the prisoner, and what they, could say concern- ing him ; for he stands, said they, upon his own vindication. Then said Mr. Search-truth, My lord, I — Court. Hold ! give him his oath. Then they sware him. So he proceeded. Search-truth. My lord, I know and have known this man from a child, and can attest that his name is False-peace. I knew his father: his name was Mr. Flatterer, and his mother before she was married was called by the name of Mrs. Sooth-up, and these two, when they came together, lived not long with- out this son ; and when he was born they called his name False-peace. I was his play- fellow/only I was somewhat older than he; and when his mother did use to call him home from play, she used to say, “ False-peace, False- peace, come home quick, or I’ll fetch you.” Yea, I knew him when he sucked; and though I was then but little, yet I can remember that when his mother did use to sit at the door with him, or did play .with him in her arms, she would call him twenty times together, “My little False-peace, my pretty False-peace, and oh my sweet rogue, False-peace;” and I again, “Oh my little bird, False-peace; and 424 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. how do I love my child l” The gossips also know it is thus, though he has the face to deny it in open court. Then Mr. Vouch -truth was called upon to speak what he knew of him. So they sware him. Then said Mr. Vouch-truth, My lord, all that the former witness hath said is true ; his name is False-peace, the son of Mr. Flatterer and of Mrs. Sooth-up his mother. And I have in former times seen him angry with those who have called him anything else but False-peace ; for he would say that all such did mock and nickname him ; but this was in the time when Mr. False-peace was a great man, and when the Diabolonians were the brave men in Man- soul. Court. Gentlemen, you have heard what these two men have sworn against the prisoner at the bar; and now, Mr. False-peace, to you. You have denied your name to be False-peace, yet you see that these honest men have sworn that this is your name. As to your plea, in that you are quite beside the matter of your indictment ; you are not by it charged for evil- doing because you are a man of peace or a peacemaker among your neighbours, but for that you did wickedly, satanically, bring, keep, and hold the town of Mansoul, both under its apostacy from and in its rebellion against its King, in a false, lying, and damnable peace, contrary to the law of Shaddai, and likewise to the hazard of the destruction of the then miserable town of Mansoul. All that you have pleaded for yourself is that you have de- nied your name, &c., but here you see we have witnesses to prove that you are the man. For the peace that you so much boast of making among your neighbours, know that the peace that is not a companion of truth and holiness, but which is without this foundation, is grounded upon a lie, and is both deceitful and damnable; as also the great Shaddai hath said ; thy plea therefore has not delivered thee from what by the indictment thou art charged with, but rather it doth fasten all upon thee. But thou slialt have very fair play : let us call the witnesses that are to testify as to mat- ter of fact, and see what they have to say for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar. Clerk. Mr. Know-all, what say you for our Lord the King against the prisoner at the bar? Know-all. My lord, this man hath of a long time made it, to my knowledge, his business to keep the town of Mansoul in a sinful quietness in the midst of all her lewdness, filthiness, ana turmoils ; and hath said, and that in my hear- ing, Come, come, let us fly from all trouble, on what ground soever it comes, and let us be for a quiet and peaceable life, though it wanteth a good foundation. Clerk. Come, Mr. Hate-lies, what have you to say? Hate-lies. My lord, I have heard him say that peace, though in a way of unrighteous- ness, is better than trouble with truth. Clerk. Where did you hear him say this? Plate-lies. I heard him say it in Folly-yard, at the house of one Mr. Simple, next door to the sign of the Self-deceiver. Yea, he hath said this to my knowledge twenty times .in that place. Clerk. We may spare further witness; this evidence is plain and full. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. No-truth to the bar. Mr. No-trutli, thou art here indicted by the name of No-truth, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou hast always, to the dishonour of Shaddai and to the endangering of the utter ruin of the famous town of Man- soul, set thyself to deface and utterly to spoil all the remainders of the law and image of Shaddai that have been found in Mansoul after her deep apostacy from her King to Diabolus, that envious tyrant. What sayest thou? — art thou guilty of this indictment or not? No-truth. Not guilty, my lord. Then the witnesses were called, and Mr. Know-all did first give in his evidence against him. Know-all. My lord, this man was at the pull- ing down of the image of Shaddai ; yea, this is he that did it with his own hands. I myself stood by and saw him do it, and he did it at the commandment of Diabolus. Yea, this Mr. No-trutli did more than this : he did also set up the horned image of the beast Diabolus in the same place. This also is he that at the bid- ding of Diabolus did rend and tear, and cause to be consumed, all that he could of the re- mainders of the law of the King, even what- ever he could lay his hands on in Mansoul. Clerk. Who saw him do this besides your- self? IPate-lies. I did, my lord, and so did many others besides; for this was not done by stealth or in a corner, but in the open view of all ; yea, he chose himself to do it publicly, for he delighted in doing it. Clerk. Mr. No-truth, how could you have THE 1IOLY WAR. 425 the face to plead not guilty when you were so manifestly the doer of all this wickedness? No-truth. Sir, I thought I must say soine- thing, and as my name is so I speak; I have been advantaged thereby before now, and did not know but by speaking no truth I might have reaped the same benefit now. Clerk. Set him by, jailer, and set Mr. Piti- less to the bar. Mr. Pitiless, thou art here in- dieted by the name of Pitiless, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst most traitorously and wickedly shut up all bowels of compassion, and wouldst not suffer poor Mansoul to condole her own misery when site had apostatized from her rightful King, but didst evade and at all times turn her mind away from those thoughts that had in them a tendency to lead her to repentance. What sayest thou to this indictment? — guilty or not guilty? Pitiless. Not guilty of pitilessness. All I did was to cheer up, according to my name, for my name is not Pitiless, but Cheer-up ; and I could not abide to see Mansoul incline to melancholy. Clerk. How ! Do you deny your name, and say it is not Pitiless, but Cheer-up ? Call for the witnesses ; what say you, the witnesses, to this plea? Know-all. My lord, his name is Pitiless ; so he hath writ himself in all papers of concern wherein he has had to do. But these Diab- olonians love to counterfeit their names : Mr. Covetousness covers himself with the name of Good-husbandry, or the like; Mr. Pride can, when need, call himself Mr. Neat, Mr. Hand- some, or the like, and so of all the rest of them. Clerk. Mr. Tell-true, what say you? Tell-true. His name is Pitiless, my lord; I have known him from a child, and he hath done all that wickedness wherew ith he stands charg- ed in the indictment ; but there is a company of them that are not acquainted with the danger of damning, therefore they call all those melancholy that have serious thoughts how that state should be shunned by them. Clerk. Set Mr. Haughty to the bar, jailer. Mr. Haughty, thou art here indicted by the name of Haughty, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou didst most traitor- ously and devilishly teach the town of Mansoul to carry it loftily and stoutly against the sum- monses that were given them by the captains of the King Shaddai. Thou didst also teach the town of Mansoul to speak contemptuously and vilifyingly of their great King Shaddai; and didst moreover encourage, both by words and examples Mansoul to take up arms both against the King and his Son Emmanuel. How sayest thou? — art thou guilty of this in- dictment or not? Haughty. Gentlemen, I have always been a man of courage and valour, and have not used, when under the greatest clouds, to sneak or hang down the head like a bullrush; nor did it please me at all at any time to see men veil their bonnets to those that have opposed them ; yea, though their adversaries seemed to have ten times the advantage of them. I did not use to consider who was my foe, nor what the cause was in which I was engaged. It was enough to me if I carried it bravely, fought like a man, and came off a victor. Court. Mr. Haughty, you are not here in- dicted for that you have been a valiant man, nor for your courage and stoutness in times of distress, but for that you have made use of this your pretended valour to draw the town of Mansoul into acts of rebellion both against the great King and Emmanuel his Son. This is the crime and the thing wherewith thou art charged in and by the indictment. But he made no answer to that. Now when the court had thus far proceeded against the prisoners at the bar, then they put them over to the verdict of their jury, to whom they did apply themselves after this manner. Court. Gentlemen of the jury, you have been here, and have seen these men ; you have heard their indictments, their pleas, and what the witnesses have testified against them. Now what remains is, that you do forthwith with- draw yourselves to some place, where, without confusion, you may consider of what verdict, in a way of truth and righteousness, you ought to bring in for the King against them, and bring it in accordingly. Then the jury — to wit, Mr. Belief, Mr. True- heart, Mr. Upright, Mr. Hate-bad, Mr. Love- good, Mr. See-truth, Mr. Heavenly-mind, Mr. Moderate, Mr. Thankful, Mr. Humble, Mr. Good-work, and Mr. Zeal-for-God — withdrew themselves in order to their work. Now when they were shut up by themselves, they fell to discourse among themselves in order to the drawing up of their verdict. And thus Mr. Belief (for he was the fore- man) began; “Gentlemen,” quoth he, “for the men, the prisoners at the bar, for my part I believe they all deserve death.” “Very right,” said Mr. True-heart ; “ I am wholly of 126 JBUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. your opinion.” “ Oh wliat a mercy is it,” said Mr. Plate-had, “ that such villains as these are apprehended !” “ Ay, ay,” said Mr. Love-good ; “ this is one of the joy fullest days that ever I saw in my life.” Then said Mr. See-truth, “ I know that if we judge them to death, our ver- dict shall stand before Shaddai himself.”, “ Nor do I at all question it,” said Mr. Heavenly- mind; he said moreover, “When all such beasts as these are cast out of Mansoul, what a goodly town will it be then !” Then said Mr. Moderate, “ It is not my manner to pass my judgment with rashness; but for these, their crimes are so notorious and the witness so palpable that that man must be wilfully blind who saith the prisoners ought not to die.” “Blessed be God,” said Mr. Thankful, “that the traitors are in safe custody !” “ And I join with you in this upon my bare knees,” said Mr. Humble. “ I am glad also,” said Mr. Good-work. Then said the warm man and true-hearted Mr. Zeal-for-God, “ Cut them off ; they have been the plague and have sought the destruction of Mansoul.” Thus therefore being all agreed in their ver- dict, they came instantly into the court. Clerk. Gentlemen of the jury, answer all to your names. Mr. Belief, one ; Mr. True-heart, two; Mr. Upright, three ; Mr. Hate-bacl, four ; Mr. Love-good, live ; Mr. See-truth, six ; Mr. Heavenly-mind, seven; Mr. Moderate, eight; Mr. Thankful, nine; Mr. Humble, ten; Mr. Good-work, eleven ; and Mr. Zeal-for-God, twelve. Good men and true, stand together in your verdict. Are you all agreed? Jury. Yes, my lord. Clerk. Who shall speak for you? Jury. Our foreman. Clerk. You, the gentlemen of the jury, being empannelled for our Lord and King, to serve here in a matter of life and death, have heard the trials of each of these men, the prisoners at the bar : what say you ? — are they guilty of that and those crimes for which they stand here indicted, or are they not guilty ? Foreman. Guilty, my lord. Clerk. Look to your prisoners, jailer. This was done in the morning, and in the afLernoou they received the sentence of death according to the law. The jailer, therefore, having received such a charge, put them all in the inward prison, to preserve them there till the day of execu- tion, which was to be the next day in the morning. But now to see how it happened: one of the prisoners. Incredulity by name, in the interim betwixt the sentence and the day of execution brake prison and made his escape, and gets him away quite out of the town of Mansoul, and lay lurking in such places and holds as he might, until he should again have opportunity to do the town of Mansoul a mischief for their thus handling of him as they did. Now when Mr. True-man, the jailer, per- ceived that he had lost his prisoner he was in a heavy taking, because that prisoner we speak of, he was the very worst of the whole gang; wherefore first he goes and acquaints my lord mayor, Mr. Becorder, and my Lord Will-be-will with the matter, and to get of them an order to make search for him throughout the town of Mansoul. So an order he got and search was made, but no such man could now be found in all the town of Mansoul. All that could be gathered was, that he had lurked awhile about the outside of the town, and that here and there one or other had a glimpse of him as he made his escape out of Mansoul ; one or two also did affirm that they saw him without the town going apace quite over the plain. Now when he was quite gone it was affirmed .by one Mr. Did-see that he ranged all over dry places till he met with Diabolus his friend ; and where should they meet one another but just upon Hell- gate-hill ! But oh what a lamentable story did the old gentleman tell to Diabolus concerning what sad alterations Emmanuel had made in Mansoul. As first, how Mansoul had, after some de- lays, received a general pardon at the hands of Emmanuel, and that they had invited him into the town, and that they had given him the castle for his possession. He said, more- over, that they had called his soldiers into the town, and coveted who should quarter the most of them ; they also entertained him with the timbrel, song, and dance. “ But that,” said Incredulity, “ that is the sorest vexation to me, he hath pulled dowm, 0 father, thy image and set up his own — pulled dowm thy officers and set up his own. Yea, and Will- be-will, that rebel, w'ho, one would have thought, should never have turned from us, he is now in as great favour with Emmanuel as ever he w'as with thee. But besides all this, this Will-be-will has received a special com- mission from his Master to search for, to ap- TI1E HOLY JIM/?. 427 pnfliend, anti to put to doath all and all man- ner of Oiabolonians that he shall find in Mansoul. Yea, and this Will-be-will has taken and committed to prison already eight of my lord’s most trusty friends in Mansoul. Nay, further, my lord, with grief I speak it, they have been all arraigned, condemned, and I doubt not before this time executed in Man- soul. I told my lord of eight, and myself was the ninth, who should assuredly have drunk of the same cup but that through craft I, as thou scest, have made mine escape from them.” When Diabolus had heard this lament- able story he yelled and snuffed up the wind like a dragon, and made the sky to look dark with roaring. He also sware that he would try to be revenged on Mansoul for this. So they concluded to enter into con- sultation how they might get the town of Mansoul again. Now, before this time the day was come in which the prisoners in Mansoul were to be ex- ecuted. So they were brought to the cross, and that by Mansoul in most solemn manner; for the Prince said that this should be done by the hand of the town of Mansoul, that I may see, said he, the forwardness of my now re- deemed Mansoul to keep my word and to do my commandments, and that I may bless Mansoul in doing this deed. Proof of sin- cerity pleases me well; let Mansoul therefore first lay their hands upon these Diabolonians to destroy them. So the town of Mansoul slew them accord- ing to the word of their Prince. But when the prisoners were brought to the cross to die, you can hardly believe what troublesome work Mansoul had of it to put the Diabolonians to death ; for the men knowing that they must die, aud all of them having implacable enmity in their heart to Mansoul, what did they but took courage at the cross and there resisted the men of the town of Mansoul? Where- fore the men of Mansoul were forced to cry out for help to the captains and men of war. Now the great Shaddai had a secretary in the town, and he was a great lover of the men of Mansoul, and he was at the place of execution also; so he, hearing the men of Mansoul cry out against the stragglings and unruliness of the prisoners, rose up from his place and came and put his hands upon the hands of the men of Mansoul. So they crucified the Diab- olonians that had been a plague, a grief, and an offence to the town of Mansoul. Now, when this good work was done the Prince came down to see, to visit, and to speak comfortably to the men of Mansoul, and to strengthen their hands in such work And lie said to them that by this act of theirs he had proved them, and found them to fie lovers of his person, observers of his laws, and such as also had respect to his honour. Ho said moreover (to show them that they by this should not be the losers, nor their town weakened by the loss of them) that he would make them another captain, and that one of themselves; and that this captain should be a ruler of a thousand, for the good and benefit of the now flourishing town of Mansoul. So he called one whose name was Waiting, and bid him go quickly up to the castle-gate, and inquire there for one Mr. Experience, that waiteth upon that noble captain, the Captain Credence, and bid him come hither to me. So the messenger that waiteth upon the good Prince Emmanuel went and said as he was commanded. Now, the young gentleman was waiting to see the captain train and muster his men in the castle-yard. Then said Mr. Waiting to him, “Sir, the Prince would that you should come down to his Highness forth- with.” So he brought him down to Emman- uel, and he came and made obeisance before him. Now the men of the town knew Mr. Experience well, for he was born and bred in Mansoul ; they also knew him to be a man of conduct, of valour, and a person prudent in matters; he was also a comely person, well spoken, and very successful in his un- dertakings. Wherefore the hearts of the townsmen were transported with joy when they saw that the Prince himself was taken so with Mr. Experi- ence that he needs would make him a captain. So with one consent they bowed the knee before Emmanuel, and with a shout said, “Let Emmanuel live for ever!” Then said the Prince to the young gentleman whose name was Mr. Experience, “ I have thought good to confer upon thee a place of trust and honour in this my town of Mansoul.” Then the young man bowed his head and worshipped. “ It is,” said Emmanuel, “ that thou shouldst be a captain, a captain over a thousand men in my beloved town of Mansoul.” Then said the captain, “ Let the King live !” So the Prince gave out orders forthwith to the King’s secretary that he should draw up for Mr. Ex- perience a commission to make him a captain 428 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. over a thousand men, and let it be brought to me, said he, that I may set to it my seal. So it was done as it was commanded : the com- mission was drawn up, brought to Emmanuel, and he set his seal thereto ; then by the hand of Mr. Waiting he sent it away to the captain. Now as soon as the captain had received his commission he sounded his trumpet for volun- teers, and young men came to him apace ; yea, the greatest and chiefest men in the town sent their sons to be listed under his command. Thus Captain Experience came under com- mand to Emmanuel for the good of the town of Mansoul. He had for his lieutenant one Mr. Skilful, and for his cornet one Mr. Mem- ory. His under-officers I need not name. His colours were the white colours for the town of Mansoul, and his escutcheon was the dead lion and the dead bear. So the Prince returned to his royal palace again. Now, when he was returned thither the el- ders of the town of Mansoul — to wit, my lord mayor, the recorder, and the Lord Will-be- will — went to congratulate him, and in special way to thank him for his love, care, and tender compassion which he showed to his ever- obliged town of Mansoul. So after a while, and some sweet communion between them, the townsmen, having solemnly ended their cere- mony, returned to their place again. Emmanuel also at this time appointed them a day wherein he would renew their charter, yea, wherein he would renew and enlarge it, mending several faults therein, that Mansoul’s yoke might be yet more easy. And this he did without any desire of theirs, even of his own frankness and noble mind. So when he had sent for and seen their old one, he laid it by and said, “Now that which decayeth and waxeth old is ready to vanish away.” He said moreover, “The town of Mansoul shall have another, a better, a new one, more steady and firm by far.” An epitome whereof take as follows : “ T, Emmanuel, Prince of Peace, and a great lover of the town of Mansoul, do in the name of my Father and of mine own clem- ency, give, grant, and bequeath to my beloved town of Mansoul — “1. Free, full, and everlasting forgiveness of all wrongs, injuries, and offences done by them against my Father, me, their neighbours, or themselves. “ 2. I do give them the holy law and my testament, with all that therein is contained, for their everlasting comfort and consolation. “3. I do also give them a portion of fhe» selfsame grace and goodness that dwells in my Father’s heart and mine. “4. I do give, grant, and bestow upon them freely the world, and what is therein for their good ; and they shall have that power over it as shall stand with the honour of my Father, my glory, and their comfort; yea, I grant them the benefits of life and death, and of things present and things to come. This privilege no other city, town, or corporation shall have, but my Mansoul only. “ 5. I do give and grant them leave and free access to me in my palace, at all seasons, there to make known their wants to me. And I give them moreover a promise that I will hear and redress all their grievances. “6. I do give, grant to, and invest the town of Mansoul with full power and authority to seek out, take, enslave, and destroy all and all manner of Diabolonians that at any time, from whencesoever, shall be found straggling in or about the town of Mansoul. “ 7. I do further grant to my beloved 'town of Mansoul that they shall have authority not to suffer any foreigner or stranger, or their seed, to be free in and of the blessed town of Mansoul, nor to share in the excellent privi- leges thereof. But that all the grants, privi- leges, and immunities that I bestow upon the famous town of Mansoul shall he for those the old natives and true inhabitants thereof; to them, I say, and to their right seed after them. “ But all Diabolonians, of what sort, birth, country, or kingdom soever, shall be debarred a share therein.” So when the town of Mansoul had received at the hand of Emmanuel their gracious char- ter, (which in itself is infinitely more large than by this lean epitome is set before you,) they carried it to audience — that is, to the market- place — -and there Mr. Recorder read it in the presence of all the people. This being done, it was had back to the castle-gates, and there fairly engraven upon the doors thereof and laid in letters of gold, to the end that the town of Mansoul, with all the people thereof, might have it always in their view, or might go where they might see what a blessed freedom their Prince had bestowed upon them, that their joy might be increased in themselves and their love renewed to their great and good Emmanuel. But what joy,' what comfort, what consola- tion, think you, did now possess the hearts of THE IIOLY WAR. 429 the men of Mansoul ! The bells rung, the minstrels played, the captains shouted, the colours waved in the wind, and the silver trumpets sounded, and all the Diabolonians now were glad to hide their heads. When this was over the Prince sent again for the elders of the town of Mansoul, and communed with them about a ministry that he intended to establish among them — such a ministry that might open unto them and in- struct them in the things that did concern their present and future state. For, said he, you of yourselves, without you have teachers and guides, will not be able to know, and if not to know to be sure not to do, the will of my Father. At this news, when the ciders of Mansoul brought it to the people, the whole town came running together, (for it pleased them well, as whatever the Prince now did pleased the peo- ple,) and all with one consent implored his Majesty that ho would forthwith establish such a ministry among them as might teach them both law and judgment, statute and command- ment, that they might be documented in all good and wholesome things. So he told them that he would grant them their request, and would establish two among them — one that was of his Father’s court, and one that was a native of Mansoul. lie that is from the court, said he, is a per- son of no less quality and dignity than is my Father and I, and he is the lord chief secretary of my Father’s house; for he is and always has been the chief dictator of all my Father’s laws — a person altogether well skilled in all mysteries and knowledge of mysteries, as is my Father or as myself is. Indeed he is one with us in nature, and also as to loving of and being faithful to and in the eternal concerns of the town of Mansoul. And this is he, said the Prince, that must be your chief teacher ; for it is he, and he only, that can teach you clearly in all high and supernatural things. He, and lie only, it is that knows the ways and methods of my Father at court; nor can any like him show how the heart of my Father is at all times, in all things, upon all occasions, towards Man- soul ; for as no man knows the things of a man but the spirit of a man which is in him, so the things of my Father knows no man but this his high and mighty secretary. Nor can any as he tell Mansoul how and what they shall do to keep themselves in the love of my Father. He also it is that can bring lost things to your remembrance, and that can tell you things to come. This teacher therefore must of necessity have pre-eminence (both in your affections and judgment) before your other teacher; his personal dignity, the excel- lency of his teaching, also the great dexterity that he hath to assist you to make and draw up petitions to my Father for your help and to his pleasing, must lay obligations upon you to love him, fear him, and to take heed that you grieve him not. This person can put life and vigour into all he says; yea, and can also put it into your hearts. This person can make seers of you, and can make you tell what shall be hereafter. By this person y r ou must frame all your peti- tions to my Father and me; and without his advice and counsel first obtained let nothing enter into the town or castle of Mansoul, for that may disgust and grieve this noble person. Take heed, I say, that you do not grieve this minister, for if you do he may fight against you ; and should he once be moved by you to set himself against you in battle array, that will distress you more than if twelve legions should from my Father’s court be sent to make war upon you. But, as I said, if you shall hearken unto him, and shall love him, if you shall devote your- selves to his teaching, and shall seek to have converse and to maintain communion with him, you shall find him ten times better than is the whole world to any; yea, he will shed abroad the love of my Father in your hearts, and Mansoul will be the wisest and most blessed of all people. Then did the Prince call unto him the old gentleman who before had been the recorder of Mansoul, Mr. Conscience by name, and told him that forasmuch as he was well skilled in the law and government of the town of Man- soul, and was also well spoken, and could per- tinently deliver to them his Master’s will in all terreue and domestic matters, therefore he would make him a minister for, in, and to the goodly town of Mansoul in all the laws, stat- utes and judgments of the famous town of Mansoul. And thou must, said the Prince, confine thyself to the teaching of moral vir- tues, to civil and natural duties; but thou must not attempt or presume to be a revealer of those high and supernatural mysteries that are kept close in the bosom of Shaddai my Father; for those things knoweth no man, nor can any reveal them but my Father’s secretary only. 430 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Thou art a native of the town of Mansoul, but the lord secretary is a native with my Father; wherefore, as thou hast knowledge of the laws and customs of the corporation, so he of the things and will of my Father; where- fore, Mr. Conscience, although I have made thee a minister and a preacher in the town of Mansoul, yet as to the things which the lord secretary knoweth and shall teach to this peo- ple, there thou must be his scholar and a learner, even as the rest of Mansoul are. Thou must therefore, in all high and super- natural things, go to him for information and knowledge; for though there be a spirit in man, this person’s inspiration must give him understanding. Wherefore, 0 thou Mr. Re- corder, keep low and be humble, and remember that the Diabolonians that kept not their first charge, but left their own standing, are now made prisoners in the pit ; be therefore con- tent with thy station. I have made thee my Father’s vicegerent on earth in such things of which I have made mention before ; and take thou power to teach them to Mansoul, yea, and to impose them with whips and chastisements if they shall not willingly hearken to do thy commandments. And, Mr. Recorder, because thou art old and feeble, therefore I give thee leave and license to go when thou wilt to my fountain, my con- duit, and there to drink freely of the blood of my grape, for my conduit doth always run wine. Thus doing, thou shalt drive from thy heart and stomach all foul, gross, and hurtful humours. It will also lighten thine eyes, and will strengthen thy memory for the reception and keeping of all that the King’s most noble secretary teacheth. When the Prince had thus put Mr. Recorder (that once so was) into the place and office of a minister of Mansoul, and the man had thank- fully accepted thereof, then did Emmanuel address himself to the townsmen themselves. “Behold (said the Prince to Mansoul) my love and care towards you. I have added to all that is past this mercy to appoint you preach- ers — the most noble secretary to teach you in all high and sublime mysteries, and this gen- tleman (pointing to Mr. Conscience) is to teach you in all things human and domestic, for therein lieth his work. He is not, by what I have said, debarred of telling to Mansoul any- thing that he hath heard and received at the mouth of the lord high secietary ; only he shall not attempt or presume to be a revealer of those high mysteries himself; for the breaking of them up, and the discovery of them to Man- soul, lieth only in the power, authority, and skill of the lord high secretary himself. Talk of them he may ; and so may the rest of the town of Mansoul, as they have opportunity, press them upon each other for the benefit of the whole. These things, therefore, I woujd have you observe and do, for it is for your life and lengthening of your days. “ And one thing more to my beloved town of Mansoul : You must not dwell in nor stay upon anything of that which he hath in com- mission to teach you as to your trust and expectation of the next world; of the next world, I say. for I purpose to give another to Mansoul when this with them is worn out; but for that you must wholly and solely have recourse to and make stay upon this doctrine, which is your teacher after the first order. Yea, Mr. Recorder himself must not look for life from that which he himself revealeth ; his dependence for that must be founded in the doctrine of the other preacher. Let Mr. Re- corder also take heed that he receive not any doctrine or point of doctrine that is not com- municated to him by his superior teacher, nor yet within the precincts of his own formal knowledge.” Now after the Prince had thus settled things in the famous t-own of Mansoul, he proceeded to give to the elders of the corporation a neces- sary caution— to wit, how they should carry it to the high and noble captains that lie had from his Father’s court sent or brought with him to the famous town of Mansoul. “ These captains (said he) do love the town of Mansoul, and they are picked men, picked out of abundance as men that best suit, and that will most faithfully serve in the wars of Sliaddai against the Diabolonians for the preservation of the town of Mansoul. I charge you, therefore, (said he,) 0 ye inhabitants of the now flourishing town of Mansoul, that ycu carry it not ruggedly or untowardly to my captains or their men, since, as I said, they are picked and choice men, men chosen out of many for the good of the town of Mansoul. I say, I charge you that you carry it not rug- gedly or untowardly to them ; for though they have the hearts and faces of lions when at any time they shall be called forth to engage and fight with the King’s foes and the enemies o f the town of Mansoul, yet a little discounte- nance cast upon them from the town of Man- soul will deject and cast down their faces, will weaken and take away their courage. Do not, THE 1I0LY WAR. 431 therefore, 0 my beloved, carry it unkindly to my valiant captains and courageous men of war, but love them, nourish them, succour them, and lay them in your bosoms, and they will not only fight for you, but cause to fly from you all those the Diabolonians that seek and will, if possible, be your utter destruction. “If therefore any of them should, at any time, be sick or weak, and so not able to per- form that office of love which with all their hearts they are willing to do, (and will do also when well and in health,) slight them not nor despise them, but rather strengthen them and encourage them, though weak and ready to die; for they are your fence and your guard, your walls, gates, locks and bars. And although when they are weak they can do but little, but rather need to be helped by you than that you should then expect great things from them, yet when well you know what exploits, what feats and warlike achievements they are able to do and will perform for you. “Besides, if they be weak, the town of Man- soul cannot be strong; if they be strong, then Mansoul cannot be weak ; your safety there- fore doth lie in their health and in your coun- tenancing of them. Remember also that if they be sick, they catch that disease of the town of Mansoul itself. “ These things I have said unto you because I love your welfare and your honour. Ob- serve, therefore, 0 my Mansoul, to be punctual in all things that I have given in charge unto you, aud that not only as a town corporate, and so to your officers and guard and guides in chief, but to you as a people, whose well-being as single persons depends on the observation of the orders and commandments of their Lord. “Next, 0 my Mansoul, I do warn you of that of which, notwithstanding the reformation which that at present is wrought among you, you have need to be warned about; wherefore hearken diligently unto me. I am now sure, and you will know hereafter, that there are yet some of the Diabolonians remaining in the town of Mansoul — Diabolonians that are sturdy and implacable, and that do, already, while I am yet with you, and that will yet more when I am from you, study, plot, con- trive, invent, and jointly attempt to bring you to desolation, so to a state far worse than that of Egyptian bondage. They are the avowed friends of Diabolus, therefore look about you ; they used therefore to lodge with their prince in the castle when Incredulity was lord mayor of this town, but since my coining hither, they lie more in the outsides and walls, and have made themselves dens, and caves, and holes, and strongholds therein. Wherefore, 0 Man- soul, thy work as to this will be so much the more difficult and hard — that is, to take, mor- tify, and put them to death, according to the will of my Father. Nor can you utterly lid yourselves of them unless you should pull down the walls of your town, the which I am by no means willing you should. Do you ask me, What shall we do then? Why, be you dil- igent, and quit you like men ; observe their holds, find out their haunts, assault them, and make no peace with them. Wherever they haunt, lurk, or abide, and what terms of peace soever they offer you, abhor, and all shall be well betwixt you and me. And, that you may the better know them from those that arc the natives of the town of Mansoul, I will give you this brief schedule of the names of the chief of them ; and they are these that follow : The Lord Fornication, the Lord Adultery, the Lord Murder, the Lord Anger, the Lord Las- civiousness, the Lord Deceit, the Lord Evil- eye, Mr. Drunkenness, Mr. Revelling, Mr. Idolatry, Mr. Witchcraft, Mr. Variance, Mr. Emulation, Mr. Wrath, Mr. Strife, Mr. Sedi- tion, and Mr. Heresy. These are some of the chief, O Mansoul, of those that will seek to overthrow thee for ever. These, I say, are the shucklers in Mansoul, but look thou well into the law of thy King, and there thou shalt find their physiognomy and such other character- istical notes of them by whiclj they certainly may bfc known. “ These, 0 my Mansoul, (and I would gladly that you should know it,) if they are suffered to run and range about the town at will, will quickly, like vipers, eat out your bowels, yea, poison your captains, cut the sinews of your soldiers, break the bars and bolts of your gates, and turn your now most flourishing Mansoul into a barren and desolate wilderness, a ruin- ous heap. Wherefore, that you may take courage to yourselves to apprehend these vil- lains wherever you find them, I give to you, my lord mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder, with all the inhabitants of the town of Mansoul, full power and commission to seek out, to take, and cause to be put to death by the cross, all manner of Diabolo- nians, wherever you shall find them to lurk within or to range without the walls of the town of Mansoul. “ I told you before that I had placed a stand- ing ministry among you; not that you have 432 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. but these with you, for my four first captains who came against the master and lord of the Diabolonians that was in Mansoul, they can, and if need be will, not only privately inform but publicly preach to the corporation both good and wholesome doctrine, and such as shall lead you in the way. Yea, they will set up a w’eeklv, yea, if need be a daily, lecture in thee, 0 Mansoul ! and will instruct thee in such profitable lessons that if heeded will do thee good at the end. And take good heed that you spare not the men that you have a commission to take and crucify. “Now, as I have set before your eyes the va- grants and runagates by name, so I will tell you that among yourselves some of them shall creep in to beguile you, even such as would seem, and that in appearance, are very ripe and hot for religion. And they, if you watch not, will do you a mischief — such an one as at present you do not think of. “These, as I said, will show themselves to you in another hue than those under descrip- tion before. Wherefore, Mansoul, watch and be sober, and suffer not thyself to be be- trayed.” When the Prince had thus far new-modelled the towm of Mansoul, and had instructed them in such matters as were profitable for them to know, then he appointed another day, in which he intended, when the townsfolk came together, to bestow a further badge of honour upon the town of Mansoul — a badge that should distin- guish them from all people, kindreds and tongues that dwell in the kingdom ®f Uni- verse. Now it was not long before the day appointed was come, and the Prince and his people met in the King’s palace, where first Emmanuel made a short speech unto them, and then did for them as he had said, and unto them as he had promised. “My Mansoul,” said he, “that which I now am about to do is to make you known to the world to be mine, and to distinguish you also in your own eyes from all false traitors that may creep in among you.” Then he commanded that those that waited upon him should go and bring forth out of his treasury those white glittering robes that I, said he, have provided and laid up in store for my Mansoul. So the white garments were fetched out of his treasury, and laid forth to the eyes of the people. Moreover it was granted to them that they should take them and put them on. So the people were put into white, into fine linen, white and clean. • Then said the Prince unto them, “This, 0 Mansoul, is my livery, and the badge by which mine are known from the servants of others. Yea, it is that which I grant to all that are mine, and without which no man is permitted to see my face. Wear them, therefore, for my sake, who gave them unto you, and also if you would be known by the world to be mine.” But now can you think how Mansoul shone! It was fair as the sun, clear as the moon, and terrible as an army with banners. The Prince added further, and said, “No prince, potentate, or mighty one of the Universe giveth this livery but myself. Behold, therefore, as I said before, you shall be known by it to be mine. “And now,” said he, “I have given you my livery, let me give you also in commandment concerning them; and be sure that you take good heed to my words: “1. Wear them daily, day by day, lest you should at sometimes appear to others as if you were none of mine. “2. Keep them always white, for it is, if they be soiled, dishonour to me. “3. Wherefore gird them up from the ground, and let them not be soiled with dust and dirt. “ 4. Take heed that you lose them not, lest you walk naked and they see your shame. “5. But if you should sully them, if you should defile them, (the which I am greatly unwilling you should, and the prince Diabolus would be glad if you would,) then speed you to do that which is written in my law, that yet you may stand, and not fall before me and be- fore my throne. Also this is the way to cause that I may not leave you nor forsake you while here, but may dwell in this town of Mansoul for ever.” And now was Mansoul and the inhabitants of it as the signet upon Emmanuel’s right hand. Where was there now a town, a city, a corporation that could compare with Mansoul? — a towm redeemed from the hand and from the power of Diabolus ; a towm that the King Sliaddai loved, and that he sent Emmanuel to regain from the Prince of the infernal cave ; yea, a town that Emmanuel loved to dwell in, and that he chose for his royal habitation ; a towm that he fortified for himself, and made strong by the force of his army. What shall I say? Mansoul has now’ a most excellent Prince, golden captains and men of war, weapons proved, and garments white as snow. Nor are these benefits to be counted little, but T1IE ITOLY WAR. 433 groat. Can the town of Mansoul esteem them so, and improve them to that end and purpose for the which they arc bestowed upon them? When the Prince had thus completed the modelling of the town, to show that he had great delight in the work of his hands, and took pleasure in the good that he had wrought for the famous and flourishing Mansoul, lie commanded and they set his standard upon the battlements of the castle. And then, 1. He gave them frequent visits. Not a day now but the elders of Mansoul must come to him or he to them, into his palace. Now they must walk and talk together of all the great things that he had done and yet further prom- ised to do for the town of Mansoul. Thus would he often do with the lord mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and the honest subordinate preacher, Mr. Conscience and Mr. Recorder. But oh how graciously, how lovingly, how courteously, and tenderly did this blessed Prince now carry it towards the town of Man- soul ! In all the streets, gardens, orchards, and other places where he came, to be sure the poor should have his blessing and benediction ; yea, he would kiss them, and if they were ill he would lay hands on them and make them well. The captains also he would daily, yea sometimes hourly, encourage with his presence and goodly words. For you must know that a smile from him upon them would put more vigour, more life and stoutness into them than would anything else under heaven. The Prince would now also feast them and be with them continually. Hardly a week would pass but a banquet must be had betwixt him and them. You may remember that- some pages before we made mention of one feast that they had together, but now to feast them was a thing more common: every day with Mansoul was a feast-day now. Nor did he, when they returned to their places, send them empty away ; either they must have a ring, a gold chain, a bracelet, a white stone, or some- thing, so dear was Mansoul to him now 7 , so lovely was Mansoul in his eyes. 2. When the elders and townsmen did not come to him, he would send in such plenty of provision' unto them, meat that came from court, wine and bread that were prepared for his Father’s table, yea, such delicacies would he send unto them, and therewith would so cover their table, that whoever saw it confessed that the like could not be seen in any king- dom. 3. If Mansoul did not frequently visit him 28 as he desired they should, he would walk out to them, knock at their doors, and desire en- trance, that amity might be maintained be- twixt them and him ; if they did hear and open to him, as commonly they would if they were at home, then would he renew 7 his former love, and confirm it too with some new tokens and signs of continual favour. And was it not now amazing to behold that in that very place where sometimes Diabolus had his abode and entertained his Diabolo- nians to the almost utter destruction of Man- soul, the Prince of princes should sit eating and drinking with them, while all his mighty captains, men of war, trumpeters, with the singing men and singing women of his Father, stood round about to wait upon them? Now did Mansoul’s cup run over, now 7 did her con- duits run sw r eet wine, now did she eat the finest of the wheat, and drink milk and honey out of the rock. Now she said, How 7 great is his goodness, for since I found favour in his eyes how 7 honourable have I been ! The blessed Prince did also order a new 7 of- ficer in the tow 7 n, and a goodly person he was: his name was Mr. God’s-peace ; this man was set over my Lord Will-be-will, my lord mayor, Mr. Recorder, the subordinate preacher, Mr. Mind, and over all the natives of the town of Mansoul. Himself w 7 as not a native of it, but came with the Prince Emmanuel from the court. He w 7 as a great acquaintance of Cap- tain Credence and Captain Good-hope; some say they were akin, and I am of that opinion too. This man, as I said, was made governor of the town in general, especially over the castle, and Captain Credence was to help him there. And I made great observation of it that so long as all things went in Mansoul as this sweet-natured gentleman would, the town was in most happy condition. Now 7 there w r ere no jars, no chiding, no intenenngs, no unfaith- ful doings in all the town of Mansoul : every man in Mansoul kept close to his own employ- ment. The gentry, the officers, the soldiers, and all in the place, observed their order. And as for the women and children of the tow 7 n, they followed their business joyfully; they would work and sing from morning till night; so that quite through the town of Mansoul now 7 nothing was to be found but harmony, quietness, joy, and health. And this lasted all that summer. But there w 7 as a man in the town of Mansoul, and his name w r as Mr. Carnal-security. This man did, after all this mercy bestowed on this 434 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. corporation, bring the town of Mansoul into great ancl grievous slavery and bondage. A brief account of him and of his doings take as followeth. When Diabolus at first took possession of the town of Mansoul he brought thither with himself a great number of Diabolonians, men of his own conditions. Now among these there was one whose name was Mr. Self-conceit, and a notable brisk man he was as any that did in those days possess the town of Mansoul. Diab- olus, then, perceiving this man to be active and bold, sent him upon many desperate designs, the which he managed better and more to the pleasing of his lord than most that came with him from the dens could do. Wherefore, find- ing of him so fit for his purpose, he preferred him and made him next to the great Lord Will-be-will, of whom we have written so much before. Now the Lord Will-be-will, being in those days very well pleased with him and with his achievements, gave him his daughter, the Lady Fear-nothing, to wife. Now of my Lady Fear-nothing did this Mr. Self-conceit beget this gentleman, Mr. Carnal- security. Wherefore, there being then in Man- soul those strange kinds of mixtures, it was hard for them in some cases to find out who were natives and who not ; for Mr. Carnal-se- curity sprang from my Lord Will-be-will by his mother’s side, though he had for his father a Diabolonian by nature. Well, this Carnal-security took much after his father and mother ; he was self-conceited, he feared nothing, he was also a very busy man; nothing of news, nothing of doctrine, nothing of alteration or talk of alteration could at any time be on foot in Mansoul but be sure Mr. Carnal-security would be at the head or tail of it ; but to be sure he would decline those that he deemed tpr weakest, and stood always with them (in his way of standing) that he supposed was the strongest side. Now, when Shaddai the mighty and Em- manuel his Son made war upon Mansoul to take it, this Mr. Carnal-security was then in town, and was a great doer among the people, encouraging them in their rebellion, putting of them upon hardening themselves in their resisting of the King’s forces ; but when he saw that the town of Mansoul was taken and converted to the use of the glorious Prince Emmanuel, and when he also saw what was become of Diabolus, and how he was unroosted and made to quit the castle in the greatest con- tempt and scorn, and that the town of Mansoul was well lined with captains, engines of war and men, and also provisions, what doth he but slyly wheel about also ; and as he had served Diabolus against the good Prince, so he feigned that he would serve the Prince against his foes. And having got some little smattering of Emmanuel’s things by the end, being bold, he ventures himself into the company of the townsmen, and attempts also to chat among them. Now he knew that the powei and strength of the town of Mansoul was great, and that it could not but be pleasing to the people if he cried up their might and their glory. AVherefore he beginnetli his tale with the power and strength of Mansoul, and affirm- ed that it was impregnable — now magnifying their captains, and their slings, and their rams, then crying up their fortifications and strong- holds, and lastly the assurance that they had from their Prince that Mansoul should be happy for ever. But when he saw that some of the men of the town were tickled and taken with his discourse, he makes it his business, and walking from street to street, house to house, and man to man, he at last brought Mansoul to dance after his pipe, and to grow almost as carnally secure as himself; so from talking they went to feasting, and from feasting to sporting, and so to some other matters, (now Emmanuel was yet in the town of Man- soul, and he wisely observed their doings.) My lord mayor, my Lord Will-be-will, and Mr. Recorder were also all taken with the words of this tattling Diabolonian gentleman, for- getting that their Prince had given them warn- ing before to take heed that they were not beguiled with any Diabolonian sleight ; he had further told them that the security of the now flourishing town of Mansoul did not so much lie in her present fortifications and force, as in her so using of what she had as might oblige her Emmanuel to abide within her castle. For the right doctrine of Emmanuel was, that the town of Mansoul should take heed that they forgat not his Father’s love and his ; also that they should so demean themselves as to continue to keep themselves therein. Now this was not the way to do it — namely, to fall in love with one of the Diabolonians, and with such an one, too, as Mr. Carnal-security was, to be led up and down by the nose by him. They should have heard their Prince, feared their Prince, loved their Prince, and have stoned this naughty pack to death, and took care to have walked in the ways of their THE JTOLY JIM/?. Prince’s prescribing;, for then should their peace have been as a river, when their right- eousness had been like the waves of the sea. Now when Emmanuel perceived that through the policy of Mr. Carnal-security the hearts of the men of Mansoul were chilled and abated in their practical love to him — First, lie bemoans them and condoles their state with the secretary, saying, “ Oh that my people had hearkened unto me, and that Man- soul had walked in my ways ! I would have fed them with the finest of the wheat, and with honey out of the rock would I have sus- tained them.” This done, he said in his heart, “ I will return to the court and go to my place, till Mansoul shall consider and acknowledge their offence.” And he did so, and the cause and manner of his going away from them was thus : The cause was for that — First, Mansoul declined him, as is manifest in these particulars : 1. They left off their former way of visiting of him ; they came not to his royal palace as afore. 2. They did not regard nor yet take notice that he came or came not to visit them. 3. The love-feasts that had wont to be be- tween their Prince and them, though he made them still and called them to them, yet they neglected to come to them or to be delighted with them. 4. They waited not for his counsels, but began to be headstrong and confident in themselves, concluding that now they were strong and invincible, and that Mansoul was secure and beyond all reach of the foe — that her state must needs be unalterable for ever. Now, as was said, Emmanuel perceiving that by the craft of Mr. Carnal-security the town of Mansoul was taken off from tlieir de- pendence upon him and upon his Father by him, and set upon what by them was bestowed upon it, he first, as I said, bemoaned their state, then he used means to make them understand that the way they went on in was dangerous. For he sent my lord high secre- tary to them to forbid them such ways; but twice when he came to them he found them at dinner in Mr. Carnal-security’s parlour, and perceiving also that they were not will- ing to reason about matters concerning their good, lie took grief and went his way. The which when he had told to the Prince Em- manuel, he took offence aud was grieved 436 also, and so made provision to return to his Father’s court. Now the methods of his withdrawing, as I was saying before, were thus: 1. Even while he was yet with them in Mansoul he kept himself close and more re- tired than formerly. 2. His speech was not now, if he came in their company, so pleasant and familiar as formerly. 3. Nor did he, as in times past, send to Mansoul from his table those dainty bit3 which he was wont to do. 4. Nor, when they came to visit him, as now and then they would, would he be so easily spoken with as they found him to be in times past. They might knock once, yea twice, but he would seem not at all to regard them ; whereas formerly, at the sound of their feet, he would up and run and meet them half- way, and take them too and lay them in his bosom. But thus Emmanuel carried it now, and by this his carriage he thought to make them be- think themselves and return to him. But, alas ! they did not consider, they did not know his ways, they regarded not, they were not touched with these nor with the true remem- brance of former favours. Wherefore, what does he but in private manner withdraw him- self, first from his palace, then to the gate of the town, and so away from Mansoul he goes, till they should acknowledge - their offence and more earnestly seek his face. Mr. God’s- peace^ also laid down his commission, and w'ould for the present act no longer in the town of Mansoul. Thus they walked contrary to him, and he again, by way of retaliation, walked contrary to them. But, alas! by this time they were so hardened in their way, and had so drunk in the doctrine, of Mr. Carnal-security, that the departing of their Prince touched them not, nor was he remembered by them when gone; and so of consequence his absence not condoled by them. Now’ there wms a day wherein this old gen- tleman, Mr. Carnal-security, did again make a feast for the town of Mansoul, and there wms at that time in the town one Mr. Godlv- fear, one now but little set by, though for- merly one of great request. This man old Carnal-security had a mind, if possible, to gull, and debauch, and abuse as he did the rest, and therefore he now’ bids him to the feast with his neighbours; so the day being 436 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. come, they prepare, and he goes and appears with the rest of the guests, and being all set at the table, they did eat and drink and were merry, even all but this one man. For Mr. Godly-fear sat like a stranger, and did neither eat nor was merry. The which, when Mr. Carnal-security perceived, he presently ad- dressed himself in a speech thus to him : Mr Godly-fear, are you not well? You seem to be ill of body or mind, or both. I have a cordial of Mr. Forget-good’s making, the which, sir, if you will take a dram of, I hope it may make you bonny and blithe, and so make you more fit for us feasting companions. Unto whom the old gentleman discreetly replied: Sir, I thank you for all things cour- teous and civil, but for your cordial I have no list thereto. But a word to the natives of Mansoul : You, the elders and chiefs of Man- soul, to me it is strange to see you so jocund and merry when the town of Mansoul is in such woeful case. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, You want sleep, good sir, I doubt. If you please, lie down and take a nap, and we meanwhile will be merry. Then said the good man as follows : Sir, if you were not destitute of an honest heart, you could not do as you have done and do. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Why? Godly-fear. Nay, pray interrupt me not. It is true the town of Mansoul was strong and (with a proviso) impregnable, but you the townsmen have weakened it, and it now lies obnoxious to its foes. Nor is it a time to flatter or be silent. It is you, Mr. Carnal- security, that have wilily stripped Mansoul and driven her glory from her ; you have pulled down her towers, you have broken down her gates, you have spoiled her locks and bars. And now to explain myself : From that time that my lords of Mansoul and you, sir, grew so great, from that time the Strength of Mansoul has been offended, and now he is risen and gone. If any shall question the truth of my words, I will answer him by this and such questions: Where is the Prince Em- manuel? When did a man or woman in Mansoul see him ? When did you hear from him or taste any of his dainty bits? You are now a-feasting with this Diabolonian mon- ster, but he is not your Prince. I say there- fore, though enemies from without, had you taken heed, could not have made a prey of you, yet since you have sinned against your Prince, your enemies within have been too hard for you. Then said Mr. Carnal-security, Fie, fie, Mr. Godly-fear, fie ! Will you never shake off your timorousness? Are you afraid of being sparrow-blasted? Who hath hurt you? Be- hold I am on your side, only you are for doubting and I am for being confident. Be- sides, is this a time to be*sad in? A feast is made for mirth; why then do you now, to your shame and our trouble, break out into such passionate, melancholy language, when you should eat and drink and be merry? Then said Mr. Godly-fear again, I may well be sad, for Emmanuel is gone from Mansoul. I say again he is gone, and you, sir, are the man that has driven him away. Yea, he is gone without so much as acquainting the no- bles of Mansoul with his going; and if that is not a sign of his anger, I am not acquainted with the methods of godliness. And now, my lords and gentlemen — for my speech is still to you — your gradual declining from him did provoke him to depart from you ; the which he did gradually, if perhaps you would have been made sensible thereby, and have. been renewed by humbling of yourselves ; but when he saw that none would regard nor lay these fearful beginnings of his anger and judgment to heart, he went away from this place; and this I saw with mine own eyes. Wherefore, now while you boast your Strength is gone ; you are like the man that had lost his locks that before did wave about his shoulders. You may with this lord of your feast shake yourselves and conclude to do as at other times ; but since without him you can do nothing, and he is dej>arted from you, turn your feast into a sigh and your mirth into lamentations. Then the subordinate preacher, old Mr. Conscience, by name, he that of old was re- corder of Mansoul, being startled at what was said, began to second it thus. Indeed, my brethren, quoth he, I fear that Mr. Godly-fear tells us true. I for my part have not seen my Prince for a long season. I cannot remember the day, for my part, Nor can I answer Mr. Godly-fear’s question. 1 am afraid that all is naught with Mansoul. Godly-fear. Nay, I know that you should not find him in Mansoul, for he is departed and gone ; yea, and gone for the faults of the elders, and for that they rewarded his grace with unsufferable unkindnesses. T1IK IIOI.Y WALL 437 Then did the subordinate preacher look as if ho would fall down dead at the table; also all there present except the man of the house began to look pale and wan. But having a little recovered themselves, and jointly agree- ing to believe Mr. Godly-fear and his sayings, they began to consult what was best to bo done (now Mr. Carnal-security was gone into his withdrawing room, for he liked not such dumpish doings) both to the man of the house for drawing them into evil, and also to recover Emmanuel’s love. Then the saying of their Prince came very hot into their minds concerning the false proph- ets that should arise to delude the town of Mansoul. So they took Mr. Carnal -security (concluding that lie was the person) and burnt his house upon him with fire, for lie also was a Diabolonian by nature. When this was past and over they besped themselves to look for Emmanuel their Prince, and they sought him, but found him not. Then were they more confirmed in the truth of Mr. Godlv-fear’s sayings, and began also severely to reflect upon themselves for their so vile and ungodly doings, for they concluded now it was through them that their Prince had left them. Then they agreed and went to my lord sec- retary, (whom before they refused to hear and had grieved with their doings) to know of him, for he was a seer, and could tell where Emmanuel was and how they might direct a petition to him. But the lord secretary would not admit them to a conference about this matter, nor would admit them to his royal palace, nor come out to them to show them his face or intelligence. And now it was a day gloomy and dark, a day of clouds and of thick darkness with Man- soul. Now they saw that they had been fool- ish, and began to perceive what the company and prattle of Mr. Carnal-security had done, and what desperate damage his swaggering words had brought poor Mansoul into. But what further it was like to cost them, that they were ignorant of. Now Mr Godly-fear began again to be in repute with the men of the town ; yea, they were ready to look upon him as a prophet. Well, when the sabbatli-day was come, they went to hear their subordinate preacher ; but oh how it did thunder and lighten this day ! His text was that in the prophet Jonah, “ They that observe lying vanities forsake their own mercies.” But there was then such power and authority in that sermon, and such a dejection seen in the countenances of the people that day, that the like had seldom been heard or seen. The people, when the sermon was done, were scarce able to go to their homes, or betake themselves to their employs the week after: they were so sermon-smitten, and also so sermon-sick, that they knew not what to do. He not only showed Mansoul their sin, but trembled before them under a sense of his own, still crying out of himself as he preached to them, “ Unhappy man that I am! that I should do so wicked a thing! — that I, a preacher whom the Prince did set up to teach to Mansoul his law, should myself live sense- less and sottishly here, and be one of the first found in transgression ! This transgression also fell within my precincts. I should have cried out against the wickedness, but I let Mansoul lie wallowing in it until it bad driven Emmanuel from its borders.” With these things he also charged all the lords and gentry of Mansoul, to the almost distracting of them. About this time also there was a great sick- ness in the town of Mansoul, and most of the inhabitants were greatly afflicted; yea, the captains also and men of war were brought thereby to a languishing condition, and that for a long time together; so that in case of an invasion nothing could to purpose now have been done either by the townsmen or field-officers. Oh how many pale faces, weak hands, feeble knees, and staggering men were now seen to walk the streets of Mansoul ! Here were groans, there pants, and yonder lay those that were ready to faint. The garments too which Emmanuel bad given them were but in a sorry case; some were rent, some were torn, and all in a nasty condition ; some also hung so loosely upon them that the next bush they came at was ready to pluck them off. After some time spent in this sad and des olate condition, the subordinate preacher called for a day of fasting and to humble them- selves for being so wicked against the great Shaddai and his Son. And he desired that Captain Boanerges would preach. So he con- sented to do it ; and the day was come, and bis text was this, “ Cut it down, why cumbereth it the ground?” and a very smart sermon he made upon the place. First, he showed what was the occasion of the words — to wit, because the fig-tree was barren ; then he showed what was contained in the sentence — to wit, repent- 438 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. anee or utter desolation. He then showed also by whose authority this sentence was pro- nounced; and that was by Shaddai himself. And lastly, he showed the reasons of the point, and then concluded his sermon. But he was very pertinent in the application, inso- much that he made poor Mansoul tremble. For this sermon, as well as the former, wrought much upon the hearts of the men of Mansoul ; yea, it greatly helped to keep awake those that were roused by the preaching that went before. So that now, throughout the whole town, there was little or nothing to he heard or seen but sorrow, and mourning, and woe. Now after the sermon they got together and consulted what was best to be done. But, said the subordinate preacher, I will do nothing of mine own head without advising with my neighbour, Mr. Godly-fear. So they called and sent for Mr. Godly-fear, and he forthwith appeared; then they desired that he would further show his opinion about what they had best to do. Then said the old gentleman as followeth : “ It is my opinion that this town of Mansoul should, in this day of her distress, draw up and send an humble petition to their offended Prince Emmanuel, that he, in his favour and grace, will turn again unto you and not keep anger for ever.” When the townsmen had heard this speech, they did with one consent agree to his advice ; so they presently did draw up their request ; and the next question was, But who shall carry it? At last they did all agree to send it by my lord mayor. So he accepted of the service and addressed himself to his journey, and went and came to the court of Shaddai, whither Emmanuel the Prince of Mansoul was gone. But. the gate was shut, and strict watch kept thereat, so that the petitioner was forced to stand without for a great while together. Then he desired that some would go in to the Prince and tell him who stood at the gate and what his business was. So one went, and told to Shaddai and to Emmanuel his Son that the lord mayor of the town of Mansoul stood with- out at the gate of the King’s court, desiring to be admitted into the presence of the Prince, the King’s Son. He also told what was the lord mayor’s errand, both to the King and his Son Emmanuel. But the Prince would not come down, nor admit that the gate should be opened to him ; but sent him an answer to this effect : “ They have turned their back unto me, and not their face; but now, in the time of their trouble, they say unto me, Arise, and save us. But can they not now go to Mr. Carnal-security, to whom they went when they turned from me, and make him their leader, their lord, and their protector now in their trouble ? Why now in their trouble do they visit me, since in their prosperity they went astray ?” This answer made my lord mayor look black in the face ; it troubled, it perplexed, it rent him sore. And now he began again to see what it was to be familiar with Diabolonians, such as Mr. Carnal-security was. When he saw that at court, as yet, there was little help to be expected either for himself or friends in Mansoul, he smote upon his breast and re- turned weeping, and all the way bewailing the lamentable state of Mansoul. Well, when he was come within sight of the town, the elders and chief of the people of Mansoul went out at the gate to meet him and to salute him, and to know how he sped at court. But he told them his tale in so doleful a manner that they all cried out, and mourned, and wept. Wherefore they threw ashes and dust upon their heads, and put sackcloth upon their loins, and went crying out through the town of Mansoul ; the which when the rest of the townsfolk saw, they all mourned and wept. This therefore was a day of rebuke, and of trouble, and of anguish to the town of Man- soul, and also of great distress. After some time, when they had somewhat refrained themselves, they came together to consult again what by them was yet to he done ; and they asked advice, as they did be- fore, of that Rev. Mr. Godly-fear, who told them that there was no way better than to do as they had done, nor would he that they should be discouraged at all with what they had met with at coui't; yea, though several of their petitions should be answered with naught hut silence or rebuke; for, said he, it is the way of the wise Shaddai to make men wait and to exercise patience ; and it should be the way of them in want to be willing to stay his leisure. Then they took courage, and sent again, and again, and again ; for there was not a day nor an hour that went over Mansoul’s head where- in a man might not have met upon the road one or other riding posts from Mansoul to the court of King Shaddai, and all with letters petitionary in behalf of and for the Prince’s return to Mansoul. The road, I say, was now full of messengers going and returning, and meeting one another, THE JIOLY WAR. 439 sonic from the court, anti some from Mansoul ; ami this was the work of the miserable town of Mansoul all that long, that sharp, that cold and tedious winter. Now, you may remember that I told you be- fore that after Emmanuel had taken Mansoul, yea, and after he had new-modelled the town, there remained in several lurking-places of the corporation many of the old Diabolonians, that either came with the tyrant when he in- vaded and took the town, or that had there (by reason of unlawful mixtures, their birth in breeding, and bringing up) their holes, dens, and lurking-places in, under, or about the wall of the town. Some of their names are— the Lord Fornication, the Lord Adultery, the Lord Murder, the Lord Anger, the Lord Lascivious- ness, the Lord Deceit, the Lord Evil-eye, the Lord Blasphemy, and that horrible villain, the old and dangerous Lord Covetousness. These, with many more, had yet their abode in the town of Mansoul after Emmanuel had driven their prince Diabolus out of the castle. Against these the good Prince did grant a commission to the Lord Will-be-will and others, yea, to the whole town of Mansoul, to seek, take, secure, and destroy any or all that they could lay hands on, for that they were Diabolonians by nature, enemies to the Prince, and those who sought to ruin the blessed town of Mansoul. But Mansoul did not pursue this warrant, but neglected to look after, to appre- hend, to secure, and to destroy these Diabolo- nians. Wherefore, what do these villains but by degrees take courage to show themselves to the inhabitants of the town; yea,- and, as I was told, some of the men of the town of Mansoul grew too familiar with several of them, to the sorrow of the corporation, as you will hear more of in time and place. Well, when the Diabolonian lords that were left perceived that Mansoul had, through sin- ning, offended Emmanuel their Prince, and that he had withdrawn himself and was gone, what do they but plot the ruin of the town of Man- soul. So upon a time they met together at the hold of one Mr. Mischief, (who also was a Diabolonian,) and there consulted how they might deliver up Mansoul into the hands of Diabolus again. Now some advised one way, and some another, every man according to his own liking. At last my Lord Lasciviousness proposed that some of the Diabolonians in Mansoul should offer themselves for servants to some of the natives of the town; For, said he, if they so do, and Mansoul shall accept of them, they may for us, and for Diabolus our lord, make the taking of the town of Mansoul more easy than otherwise it would be. But then stood up the Lord Mprder, and said, This may not be done at this time, for Man- soul is now in a kind of rage because by our friend Mr. Carnal-security she hath been once ensnared already and made to offend against her Prince; and how shall she reconcile her- self unto her Lord again but by the heads of these men ? Besides, wc know that they have in commission to take and slay us wherever they shall find us ; let us, therefore, be wise as foxes; when we are dead we can do them no hurt, but while we live we may. Thus, when they had tossed the matter to and fro, they jointly agreed that a letter should forthwith be sent away to Diabolus in their name, by which the state of the town of Mansoul should be showed him, and how much it was under the frowns of their Prince: We may also, said some, let him know our intentions, and ask of him his advice in the case. So this letter was presently framed, the con- tents of which were these: To our great lord, the prince Diabolus, dwelling below in the infernal cave : 0 great father and mighty prince Diabolus 1 We, the true Diabolonians yet remaining in the rebellious town of Mansoul, having re- ceived our beings from thee and our nourish- ment at thy hands, cannot with content and quiet endure to behold, as we do this day, how thou art dispraised, disgraced, and reproached among the inhabitants of this town; nor is thy long absence at all delightful to us, be- cause greatly to our detriment. The reason of this our writing unto our lord is, for that we are not altogether without hope that this town may become thy habitation again ; for it is greatly declined from its Prince Emmanuel, and he is uprisen and is departed from them; yea, and though they send, and send, and send, and send after him to return to them, yet can they not prevail, nor get good words from him. There has been also of late, and is yet re- maining, a very great sickness and fainting among them, and that not only upon the poorer sort of the town, but upon the lords, captains, and chief gentry of the place, (we only, who are Diabolonians by nature, remain well, lively, and strong;) so that through their great transgression on the one hand, and their dangerous sickness on the other, we judge RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 440 they lie open to thy hand and power. If, therefore, it shall stand with thy horrible cun- ning, and with the cunning of the rest of the princes with thee, to come and make an at- tempt to take Mansoul again, send us word, and we shall, to our utmost powder, be ready to deliver it into thy hand; or if what we have said shall not by thy fatherhood be thought best and most meet to be done, send us thy mind in a few words, and we are all ready to follow thy counsel, to the hazarding of our lives and what else we have. Given under our hands this day and date above written, after a close consultation at the house of Mr. Mischief, who is yet alive and hath his place in our desirable town of Mansoul. When Mr. Profane (for he was the carrier) was come with his letter to Hell-gate-liill, he knocked at the brazen gates for entrance. Then did Cerberus the j>orter (for he is the keeper of that gate) open to Mr. Profane; to whom he delivered his letter which he had brought from the Diabolonians in Mansoul. So he carried it in and presented it to Diab- olus his lord, and said, Tidings, my lord, from Mansoul — from our trusty friends in Mansoul. Then came together, from all places of the den, Beelzebub, Lucifer, Apollyon, with the rest of the rabblement there, to hear what news from Mansoul. So the letter was broken and read, and Cerberus stood by. When the letter was openly read, and the contents thereof spread into all corners of the den, command was given that without let or stop Deadman’s bell should be rung for joy. So the bell was rung, and the princes rejoiced that Mansoul was like to come to ruin. Now the clapper of the bell went, The town of Mansoul is coming to dwell with us: make room for the town of Mansoul! This bell, therefore, they rang because they hoped that they should have Mansoul again. Now when they had performed this their horrible ceremony, they got together again to consult what answer to send to their friends in Mansoul ; and some advised one thing and some another; but at length, because the business required haste, they left the whole business to the prince Diabolus, judging him the most proper lord of the place. So he drew up a letter, as lie thought fit, in answer to what Mr. Profane had brought, and sent it to the Diabolonians in Mansoul by the same hand that had brought theirs to him; and these were the contents thereof : To our offspring, the high and mighty Diabolo- nians that yet dwell in the town of Mansoul, Diabolus, the great, prince of Mansoul, wisheth a prosperous issue and conclusion of those many brave enterprises, conspiracies and designs that you, of your love and respect to our honour, have in your hearts to attempt to do against Mansoul. Beloved children and disciples, my Lord Fornication, Adultery, and the rest: We have here, in our desolate den, received, to our highest joy and content, your welcome letter by the hand of our trusty Mr. Profane ; and to show how acceptable your tidings were we rang out our bell for gladness, for we rejoiced as much as we could when we perceived that yet we had friends in Mansoul, and such as sought our honour and revenge in the ruin of the town of Mansoul. We also rejoice to hear that they are in a degenerate condition, have offended their Prince, and that he is gone. Their sickness also pleaseth us, as doth also your health, might, and strength. Glad also would we be, right horribly beloved, could we get this town into our clutches again. Nor will we be sparing of our wit, our cun- ning, our craft, and hellish inventions to bring to a wished conclusion this your brave beginning. And take this for your comfort, (our birth and our offspring,) that if we again surprise and take it, we will attempt to put all your foes to the sword, and will make you the great lords and captains of the place. Nor need you fear (if ever we get it again) that we, after that, shall be cast out any more; for we will come with more strength, and so take faster hold than at the first we did. Besides, it is the law of that Prince which now they own that if we get them a second time they shall be ours for ever. Do you therefore, our trusty Diabolonians, yet more pry into and endeavour to spy out the weakness of the town of Mansoul. We also would that you yourselves do attempt to weaken them more and more. Send us word, also, by what means we had best to attempt the regaining thereof— to wit, whether by per* suasion to a vain and loose life, or whether by tempting them to doubt and despair, or whether by blowing up the town by the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit. Do you also, 0 ye brave Diaboloniaus and true sons of the pit, be THE HOLY WAR. always in readiness to make a most horrid assault within when we shall be ready to storm it without. Now speed you in your project and we in our desires to the utmost power of our gates; which is the wish of your great Diabolus, Mansoul’s enemy, and him that trembles when he thinks of judgment to come. All the blessings of the pit be upon you ; and so we close up our letter. Given at the pit’s mouth, by the joint con- sent of all the princes of darkness, to be sent (to the force and power that we have yet remaining in Mansoul) by the hand of Mr. Profane. By me, Diabolus. This letter was sent to the Diabolonians that yet remained in Mansoul, and that yet inhabited the wall, from the dark dungeon of Diabolus, by the hand of Mr. Profane, by whom they also in Mansoul sent theirs to the pit. Now, when this Mr. Profane had made his return, and was come to Mansoul again, lie went and came as he was wont to the house of Mr. Mischief, for there was the conclave and the place where the contrivers were met. Now, when they saw that their messenger was returned safe and sound, they were -greatly glad thereat. Then he presented them his letter which ho had brought from Diabolus for them ; the which, when they had read and considered, did much augment their gladness. They asked him after the welfare of their friends, as how their Lords Diabolus, Lucifer, and Beelzebub did, with the rest of those of the den. To which this Profane made an- swer, Weil, well, my lords ; they are well, even as well as can be in their place. They also, said he, did ring for joy at the reading of your letter, as you will perceive by this when you read it. Now, as was said, when they had read their letter, and perceived that it encouraged them in their work, they fell to their way of con- triving again how they might complete their Diabolonian design upon Mansoul. And the first thing that they agreed upon was, to keep all things from Mansoul as close as they could. Let it not be known, let not Mansoul be ac- quainted with what we design against it. The next thing was how or by what means they should try to bring to pass the ruin and over- throw of Mansoul ; and one said after this manner, and another after that. Then stood up Mr. Deceit and said, My right Diabolo- niau friends, our lords and the high ones of 441 the deep dungeons do propound unto us these three ways : 1. Whether we had best to seek its ruin by making of Mansoul loose and vain ; 2. Or by driving them to doubt and despair; 3. Or by endeavouring to blow them up with the gunpowder of pride and self-conceit. Now, I think if we shall tempt them to pride, that may do something, and if we tempt them to wantonness, that may help. But, in my mind, if we could drive them into des- peration, that would knock the nail on the head ; for then we should have them, in the first place, question the truth of the love of the heart of their Prince towards them ; and that will disgust him much. This, if it works well, will make them leave off quickly their way of sending petitions to him; then farewell earn- est solicitations for help and supply ; for then this conclusion lies naturally before them, As good do nothing as do to no purpose. So to Mr. Deceit’s plan they unanimously did con- sent. Then the next question was, But how shall we do to bring this our project to pass? And it was answered by the same gentleman that this might be the best way to do it : Even let, quoth he, so many of our friends as are willing to venture themselves for the promoting of their prince’s cause disguise themselves with apparel, change their names, and go into the market like far-countrymen, and proffer to let themselves for servants to the famous town of Mansoul, and let them pretend to do for their masters as beneficially as may be ; for by so doing they may, if Mansoul shall hire them, in little time so corrupt and defile the corpora- tion that her now Prince shall be not only further offended with them, but in conclusion shall spew them out of his mouth. And when this is done our prince Diabolus shall prey upon them with ease; yea, of themselves they shall fall into the mouth of the eater. This project was no sooner propounded but was as readily accepted, and forward were all Diabolonians now to engage in so delicate an enterprise ; but it was not thought fit that all should do thus, wherefore they pitched upon two or three — namely, the Lord Covetousness, the Lord Lasciviousness, and the Lord Anger. The Lord Covetousness called himself by the name of Prudent-thrifty ; the Lord Lascivious- ness called himself by the name of Harmless- mirth ; and the Lord Anger called himself by the name of Good-zeal. So, upon a market-day, they came into the 442 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. market-place. Three lusty fellows they were to look on, and they were clothed in sheep’s russet, which was also now in a manner as white as were the white robes of the men of Mansoul. Now the men could speak the lan- guage of Mansoul well. So when they were come into the market-place, and had offered to let themselves to the townsmen, they were presently taken up, for they asked but little wages and promised to do their masters great service. Mr. Mind hired Prudent-thrifty, and Mr. Godly-fear hired Good-zeal. True, that fellow, Harmless-mirth, did hang a little in hand, and could not so soon get him a master as the others did, because the town of Mansoul was now in Lent; but after a while, because Lent was almost out, the Lord Will-be-will hired Harmless-mirth, to be both his waiting-man and lackey ; and thus they got them masters. These villains now being got thus far into the houses of the men of Mansoul, quickly began to do great mischief therein ; for, being filthy, arch, and sly, they quickly corrupted the families where they were ; yea, they tainted their masters much, especially this Prudent- thrifty and him they call Harmless-mirth. True, he that went under the vizor of Good- zeal was not so well liked of his master, for he quickly found that he was but a counterfeit rascal ; the which when the fellow perceived with speed he made his escape from the house, or I doubt not but his master had hanged him. Well, when these vagabonds had thus far carried on their design, and had corrupted the town as much as they could, in the next place they considered with themselves at what time their prince Diabolus without and themselves within the town should make an attempt to seize upon Mansoul ; and they all agreed upon this, that a market-day should be best for that work ; for why ? Then will the townsmen be busy in their ways ; and always take this for a rule, When people, are most busy in the world they least fear a surprise. We also then, said they, shall be able with less suspicion to gather ourselves together for the work of our friends and lords ; yea, on such a day, if we shall at- tempt our work and miss it, we may, when they shall give us the rout, the better hide our- selves in the crowd and escape. These things being thus far agreed upon by them, they wrote another letter to Diabolus, and sent it by the hand of Mr. Profane; the contents of which were these : The Lord-s of Looseness send to the gre't and high Diabolus, from our dens, caves, holes, and strongholds in and about the wall of the town of Mansoul, greeting : Our great lord and the nourish er of our lives, Diabolus ! How glad we were when we heard of your fatherhood’s readiness to comply with us and help forward our design in our at- tempt to ruin Mansoul none can tell but those who, as we do, set themselves against all ap- pearance of good when and wheresoever we find it. Touching the encouragement that your greatness is pleased to give us to continue to devise, contrive and study the utter desolation of Mansoul, that we are not solicitous about, for we know right well that it cannot but be pleasing and profitable to us to see our ene- mies and them that seek our lives die at our feet or fly before us. We therefore are still contriving, and that to the best of our cunning, to make this work most facile and easy to your lordship and to us. First, we considered of that most hellishly cunuing, compacted threefold project that by you was propounded to us in your last ; and have concluded that though to blow them up with the gunpowder of pride would do well, and to do it by tempting them to be loose and vain would help on, yet to contrive to bring them into the gulf of desperation, we think, will do best of all. Now we, who are at your beck, have thought of two ways to do this: first, we, for our parts, will make them as vile as we can, and then you with us, at a time ap- pointed, shall be ready to fall upon them with the utmost force. And of all the nations that are at your whistle, we think that an army of Doubters may be the most likely to attack and overcome the town of Mansoul. Thus we shall overcome these enemies, else the pit shall open her mouth upon them, and desperation shall thrust them down into it. We have also, to effect this so-much-wished design, sent already three of our trusty Diabolonians among them ; they are disguised in garb, they have changed their names, and are now accepted of them — to wit, Covetousness, Lasciviousness, and Anger. The name of Covetousness is changed to Pru- dent-thrifty, and him Mr. Mind has hired, and is almost become as bad as our friend. Lasciviousness has changed his name to Harmless-mirth, and he is got to be the Lord Will -be- will’s lackey, but he has made his master very wanton. Anger changed his name into Good-zeal, and was entertained by Mr. THE HOLY WAR. 443 Godly-fear, but the peevish old gentleman took pepper in his nose and turned our companion out of his house. Nay, he has informed ns since that he ran away from him, or else his old master had hanged him up for his labour. Now these have much helped -forward our work and design upon Mansoul ; for, notwith- standing the spite and quarrelsome temper of the old gentleman last mentioned, the other two ply their business well and are like to ripen the work apace. Our next project is, that it be concluded that you come upon the town upon a market-day, and that when they arc upon the heat of their business; for then, to be sure, they will be most seeure, and least think that an assault will be made upon them. They will also at such a time be less able to defend themselves and to offend you in the prosecution of our de- sign. And we, your trusty (and we are sure your beloved) ones, shall, when you make your furious assault without, be ready to second the business within. So shall we, in all like- lihood, be able to put Mansoul to utter confu- sion, and to swallow them up before they can come to themselves. If your serpentine heads, most subtle dragons and our highly esteemed lords, can find out a better way than this, let us quickly know your minds. To the monsters of the infernal cave, from the house of Mr. Mischief in Mansoul, by the hand of Mr. Profane. Now, all the while that the raging runagates and hellish Diabolouians were thus contriving the ruin of the town of Mansoul, they— to wit, the poor town itself— were in a sad and woeful case'; partly because they had so grievously offended Shaddai and his Son, and partly be- cause that the enemies thereby got strength within them afresh ; and also because, though they had by many petitions made suit to the Prince Emmanuel, and to his Father Shaddai by him, for their pardon and favour, yet hith- erto obtained they not one smile ; but contrari- wise, through the craft and subtility of the domestic Diabolouians, their cloud was made to grow blacker and blacker and their Em- manuel to stand at further distance. The sickness also still greatly raged in Man- soul, both among the captains and the inhab- itants of the town: their enemies, and their en- emies only, were now lively and strong, and like to become the head whilst Mansoul was made the tail. Bv this time the letter last mentioned, that was written by the Diabolonians that yet lurked in the town of Mansoul, was conveyed to Diabolus in the black den by the hand of Mr. Profane. He carried the letter by Hell- gate-hill, as afore, and conveyed it by Cerberus to his lord. But when Cerberus and Mr. Profane mot they were presently as great as beggars, and thus they fell into discourse about Mansoul and about the project against her. Ah ! old friend, quoth Cerberus, art thou come to Hell-gate-hill again ! By St. Mary, I am glad to see thee. Profane. Yes, my lord, I am come again about the concerns of the town of Mansoul. Cerberus. Prithee tell me what condition is that town of Mansoul in at present? Profane. In a brave condition, my lord, for us and for my lords the lords of this place, I trow ; for they are greatly decayed as to godli- ness, and that is as well as our hearts can wish ; their Lord is greatly out with them, and that doth also please us well. We have already also a foot in their dish, for our Diabolonian friends are laid in their bosoms, and what do we lack but to be masters of the place ? Besides, our trusty friends in Mansoul are daily plotting to betray it to the lords of this town ; also the sickness rages bitterly among them, and, that which makes up all, we hope at last to prevail. Then said the dog of Hell-gate, No time like this to assault them : I wish that the en- terprise be followed close, and that the success desired may be soon effected. Yea, I wish it for the poor Diabolouians’ sakes that live in the continual fear of their lives in the traitor- ous town of Mansoul. Profane. The contrivance is almost finished ; the lords in Mansoul that are Diabolonians are at it day and night, and the others are like silly doves that want heart to be concerned with their state and to consider that ruin is at hand. Besides, you may, yea, must think, when you put all things together, that there are many reasons that prevail with Diabolus to make what haste he can. Cerberus. Thou hast said as it is : I am glad things are at this pass. Go in, my brave Pro- fane, to my lords ; they will give thee for thy welcome as good a coranto as this kingdom will afford. I have sent thy letter in already. Then Mr. Profane went into the den, and his lord Diabolus met him and saluted him with, “Welcome, my trusty servant ! I have been made glad with thy letter.” The rest of the 444 RUE YAK’S COMPLETE WORKS. lords of the pit gave him also their salutations. Then Profane, after obeisance made to them all, said, “ Let Mansoul be given to my lord Diabolus, and let him be her king for ever.” And with that the yawning gorge of hell gave so loud and hideous a groan (for that is the music of that place) that it made the moun- tains about it totter as if they would fall in pieces. Now after they had read and considered the letter, they consulted what answer to return ; and the first that spake to it was Lucifer. Then said lie, The first project of the Diab- olonians in Mansoul is like to be lucky and to take — to wit, that they will, by all the means they can, make Mansoul yet more vile and filthy ; no way to destroy a soul like this ; our old friend Balaam went this way, and pros- pered many years ago; let this therefore stand with us for a maxim, and be to Diabolonians for a general rule in all ages, for nothing can make this to fail but grace, in which I would hope that this town has no share. But whether to fall upon them on a market-day because of their cumber in business, that I would should be under debate. And there is more reason why this head should be debated than why some other should, because upon this will turn the whole of what we shall at- tempt. If we time not our business well, our whole project may fail. Our friends the Diab- olonians say that a market-day is best, for then will Mansoul be most busy and have fewest thoughts of a surprise. But what if they should double their guards on those days? (and methinks nature and reason would teach them to do it,) and what if they should keep sucli a watch on those days as the necessity of their present case doth require? Yea, what if their men should be always in arms on those days? Then you may, my lords, be disap- pointed in your attempts, and may bring our friends in the town to utter danger of unavoid- able ruin. Then said the great Beelzebub, There is something in what my lord hath said, but his conjecture may or may not fall out. Nor hath my lord laid it down as that which must not be receded from, for I know that he said it only to provoke to a warm debate thereabout. Therefore we must understand, if we can, whether the town of Mqnsoul has such sense and knowledge of her decayed state, and of the design that we have on foot against her, as doth provoke her to set watch and ward at her gates and to double them on market-days. But if, after inquiry made, it shall be found that they are asleep, then any day will do, but a market-day is best ; aud this is my judgment in this case. Then quoth Diabolus, How should we know this? Aud it was answered, Inquire about it at the mouth of Mr. Profane. So Profane was called in and asked the question, and he made his answer as follows : My lords, so far as I can gather, this is at present the condition of the town of Mansoul : they are decayed in their faith and love; Em- manuel their Prince has given them the back; they send often by petition to fetch him again, but he maketh not haste to answer their re- quest ; nor is there much reformation among them. Diabolus. I am glad that they are backward to a reformation, but yet I am afraid of their petitioning. However, their looseness of life is a sign that there is not much heart in what they do, and without the heart things are little worth. But go on, my masters : I will divert you, my lords, no longer. Beelzebub. If the case be so with Mansoul as Mr. Profane has described it to be, it will be no great matter .what day we assault it; nor their prayers nor their power will do them much service. When Beelzebub had ended his oration, then Apollyon did begin. My opinion, said he, concerning this matter is, that we go on fair and softly, not doing things in a hurry. Let our friends in Mansoul go on still to pol- lute and defile it, by seeking to draw it yet more into sin, for there is nothing like sin to devour Mansoul. If this be done, and it takes effect, Mansoul of itself will leave off' to watch, to jmtition, or any thing else that should tend to her security and safety; for she will forget her Emmanuel, she will not desire his com- pany ; and can she be gotten thus to live, her Prince will not come to her in haste. Our trusty friend, Mr. Carnal-security, with one cf his tricks, did drive him out of the town, and why may not my Lord Covetousness and my Lord Lasciviousness, by what they may do, keep him out of the town? And this I will tell you, (not because you know it not,) that two or three Diabolonians, if entertained and countenanced by the town of Mansoul, will do more to the keeping of Emmanuel from them, and towards making of the town of Mansoul your own, than can an army of a legion that should be sent out from us to withstand him. Let, therefore, this first project that our THE IIOLY WAR. 445 friends in Mansoul lmveacton foot be strongly and diligently carried on with all cunning and craft imaginable; and let them send contin- ually, under one guise or another, more and other of their men to play with the people of Mansoul ; and then perhaps we shall not need to be at the charge of making a war upon them ; or if that must of necessity be done, yet the more sinful they are, the less able, to be sure, they will be to resist us, and then the more easily we shall overcome them. And besides,- suppose (and that is the worst that can be supposed) that Emmanuel should come to them again, why may not the same means, or the like, drive him from them once more? Yea, why may he not, by their lapse into that sin again, be driven from them for ever for the sake of which he was at the first driven from them for a season ? And if this should happen, then away go with him his rams and his slings, his captains, his soldiers, and lie leav- eth Mansoul naked and bare. Yea, will not this town, when she sees herself utterly for- saken of her Prince, of her own accord open her gates again unto you ? But this must be done by time; a few days will not effect so great a work as this. So soon as Apollyon had made an end of speaking, Diabolus began to blow out his own malice and to plead his own cause ; and he said : My lords and powers of the cave, my true and trusty friends, I have with much impa- tience, as becomes me, given ear to your long and tedious orations. But my furious gorge and empty paunch so lusteth after a repos- session of my famous town of Mansoul that, whatever comes on’t, I can wait no longer to see the events of lingering projects. I must, and that without further delay, seek by all means I can to fill my insatiable gulf with the soul and body of the town of Mansoul. There- fore lend me your heads, your hearts, and your help, now I am going to recover my town of Mansoul. When the lords and princes of the pit saw 7 the flaming desire that was in Diabolus to de- vour the miserable town of Mansoul, they left oft' to raise any more objections, but consented to lend him what strength they could ; though, had Apollyon’s advice been taken, they had far more fearfully distressed the town of Mansoul. But, I say, they were willing to lend him what strength they could, not knowing what need they -anight have of him when they should en- gage for themselves as he. Wherefore they fell to advising about the next thing propound- ed — to wit, what soldiers there were, and also how many, with whom Diabolus should go against the town of Mansoul to take it; and after some debate it was concluded, according as in the letter the Diabolonians had suggest- ed, that none was more fit for that expedition than an army of torrible Doubters. They therefore concluded to send against Mansoul an army of sturdy Doubters. The number thought fit to be employed in that service was between twenty and thirty thousand. So, then, the result of that great council of those high and mighty lords was, that Diabolus should, even now, out of hand, beat up his drum for men in the land of Doubting, (which land lieth upon the confines of the place called Hell gate- hill,} — for men that might be employed by him against the miserable town of Mansoul. It rvas also concluded that these lords , them- selves should help him in the war, and that they would, to that end, head and manage his men. So they drew 7 up a letter, and sent it back to the Diabolonians that lurked in Man- soul, and that waited for the back coming of Mr. Profane, to signify to them into what method and forwardness they at present had put their design ; the contents whereof follow : From the dark and horrible dungeons of Hell, Diabolus, with all the society of the princes of darkness, sends to our trusty ones in and about the ivalls of the town of Mansoul, now im- patiently waiting for our most devilish answer to their venomous and most poisonous design against the town of Mansoul: Our native ones, in whom from day to day we boast, and in whose actions all the year long we do greatly delight ourselves ! we re- ceived your welcome because highly esteemed letter at the hand of our trusty and greatly beloved, the old gentleman Mr. Profane, and do give you to understand that when we had broken it up, and had read the contents thereof, (to your amazing memory be it spoken,) our yawning, hollow-bellied place where we are made so hideous and yelling a noise for joy that the mountains that stand round about Hell-gate-liill had like to have been shaken to pieces at the sound thereof. We could also do no less than admire your faithfulness to us, with the greatness of that subtlety that now hath showed itself to be in your heads to serve against the town of Man- soul. For you have invented for us so excel- lent a method for our proceeding against that rebellious people that a more effectual cannot 446 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. be thought of by all the wits of hell. The proposals therefore which now at last you have sent us, since we saw them, we have done little else but highly approve aud admire them. Nay, we shall, to encourage you in the pro- fundity of your craft, let you know that at a full assembly and conclave of our princes and principalities of this place your project was discoursed and tossed from one side of our cave to the other by their mightinesses ; but a better and, as was by themselves judged, a more fit and proper way by all their wits could not be invented to surprise, take, and make our own the rebellious town of Mansoul. Wherefore, in fine, all that was said that varied from what you had in your letter pro- pounded fell of itself to the ground, and yours only was stuck to by Diabolus the prince ; yea, his gaping gorge and yawning paunch were on fire to put your invention into execution. We therefore give you to understand that our stout, furious, and unmerciful Diabolus is raising for your relief and the ruin of the re- bellious town of Mansoul more than twenty thousand Doubters to come against that people. They are all stout and sturdy men, and men that of old have been accustomed to war. I say he is doing of this work of his with all the speed he can, for his heart and spirit are en- gaged in it. We desire, therefore, that as you have hitherto stuck to us, and given us both advice and encouragement, that you still will prosecute our design ; nor shall you lose, but be gainers thereby ; yea, we intend to make you the lords of Mansoul. One thing may not by any means be omitted : that is, those with us desire that every one of you that are in Mansoul would still use all your power, cunning, and skill, with delusive persuasions, yet to draw the town of Ma'nsoul into more sin and wickedness, even that sin may be finished and bring forth death. For thus it is concluded with us : that the more vile, sinful, and debauched the town of Mansoul is, the more backward will be their Emmanuel to come to their help, either by presence or other relief ; yea, the more sinful, the more weak, and so the more unable, will they be to make resistance when we shall make our assault upon them to swallow them up ; yea, they may cause that their mighty Shaddai himself may cast them out of his protection, yea, and send for his captains and soldiers home with his slings and rams, and leave them naked and bare; and then the town of Man- soul will of itself open to us, and fall as the fig into the mouth of the eater ; yea, to be sure that we then with a great deal of ease shall come upon her and overcome her. As to the time of our coming upon Mansoul, we as yet have not fully resolved upon that, though at present some of us think as you that a market-day, or a market-day at night, will certainly be the best. However, do you be ready, and when you shall hear our roaring drum without, do you be as busy to make the most horrible confusion within. So shall Mansoul certainly be distressed before and be- hind, and shall not know which way to betake herself for help. My Lord Lucifer, my Lord Beelzebub, my Lord Apollyon, my Lord Le- gion, with the rest, salute you, as does also my Lord Diabolus; and we wish both you, with all that you do or shall possess, the very self- same fruit and success for their doing as we at present enjoy for ours. From our dreadful confines in the most fear- ful pit we salute you, and so do those many legions here with us, wishing you may be as hellishly prosperous as we desire to be ourselves. By the letter-carrier, Mr. Pro- fane. 4 Then Mr. Profane addressed himself for liis return to Mansoul with his errand from the horrible pit to the Diabolonians that dwelt in that town. So he came up the stairs from the deep to the mouth of the cave where Cerberus was. Now when Cerberus saw him, he asked how matters went below about and against the town of Mansoul. Profane. Things go as well as we can expect. The letter that I carried thither was highly ap- proved and well liked by all my lords, and I am returning to tell our Diabolonians so. I have an answer to it here in my bosom that I am sure will make our masters that sent me glad ; for the contents thereof are to encourage them to pursue their design to the utmost, and to be ready also to fall on within when they shall see my Lord Diabolus beleaguering the town of Mansoul. Cerberus. But does he intend to go against them himself? Profane. Does he! Ay, and he will take along with him more than twenty thousand, all sturdy Doubters and men of war — picked men from the land of Doubting — to serve him in the expedition. Then was Cerberus glad, and said, And are there such brave preparations a-making to go against the miserable town of Mansoul? TIIE HOLY WAR. Would I might be put at the head of a thou- sand of them, that I might also show my valour against the famous town of Mansoul ! Profane. Your wish may come to pass; you look like one that has mettle enough, and my lord will have with him those that are valiant and stout. But my business requires haste. Cerberus. Ay, so it does. Speed thee to the town of Mansoul with all the deepest mischiefs that this place can afford thee. And when thou shalt come to the house of Mr. Mischief, the place where the Diabolonians meet to plot, tell them that Cerberus doth wish them his service, and that if he may he will with the army come up against the famous town of Mansoul. Profane. That I will. And I know that my lords that are there will be glad to hear it and to see you also. So after a few more of such kind of compli ments, Mr. Profane took leave of his friend Cerberus, and Cerberus again, with a thousand of their pit-wishes, bid him haste with all speed to his masters; the which when he had heard he made obeisance, and began to gather up his heels to run. Thus therefore he returned and came to Mansoul, and going as afore to the house of Mr. Mischief, there he found the Diabolonians assembled and waiting for his return. Now, when he was come and had presented himself, he delivered to them his letter, and adjoined this compliment to them therewith: “My lords, from the confines of the pit the high and mighty principalities and powers of the den salute you here, the true Diabolonians of the town of Mansoul; wishing you always the most proper of their benedictions for the great service, high attempts, and brave achievements that you have put yourselves upon for the re- storing to our prince Diabolus the famous town of Mansoul.” This was therefore the present state of the miserable town of Mansoul ; she had offended her Prince, and he was gone; she had encour- aged the powers of hell, by her foolishness, to come against her to seek her utter destruc- tion. True, the town of Mansoul was somewhat made sensible of her sin, but the Diabolonians were gotten into her bowels; she cried, but Emmanuel was gone, and her cries did not fetch him as yet again. Besides, she knew not whether ever or never he would return and come to his Mansoul again; nor did they know the power and industry of the enemy, nor how 447 forward they were to put in execution that plot of hell that they had devised against her. They did indeed still send petition after pe- tition to the Prince, but lie answered all with silence. They did neglect reformation, and that was as Diabolus would have it; for lie knew if they regarded iniquity in their heart their King would not hear their prayer; they therefore still grew weaker and weaker, and were as a rolling thing before the whirlwind. They cried to their King for help, and laid Diabolonians in their bosoms. What there- fore should a King do to them? Yea, there seemed now to be a mixture in Mansoul ; the Diabolonians and the Mansoulians would walk the streets together. Yea, they began to seek their peace, for they thought that since the sickness had been so mortal in Mansoul, it was in vain to go to handy-gripes with them. Be- sides, the weakness of Mansoul was the strength of their enemies, and the sins of Mansoul the advantage of the Diabolonians. The foes of Mansoul also now began to promise themselves the town for a possession ; there was no great difference now betwixt Mansoulians and Diabolonians; both seemed to be masters of Mansoul. Yea, the Diabolonians increased and grew, but the town of Mansoul diminished greatly. There was more than eleven thou- sand of men, women, and children that died by the sickness in Mansoul. But now, as Shaddai would have it, there was one whose name was Mr. Pry-well, a great lover of the people of Mansoul ; and he, as his manner was, did go listening up and down in Mansoul, to see and to hear, if at any time he might, whether there was any design against it or no. For he was always a jealous man, and feared some mischief sometimes would befall it, either from the Diabolonians within or from some power without. Now upon a time it so happened, as Mr. Pry-well went listening here and there, that he lighted upon a place called Vile-hill in Mansoul, where Diabolo- nians used to meet ; so, hearing a muttering, (you must know that it was in the night,) he softly drew near to hear; nor had he stood long under the house-end, (for there stood a house there,) but he heard one confidently af- firm that it was not or would not be long be- fore Diabolus should possess himself again of Mansoul, and that then the Diabolonians did intend to put all Mansoulians to the sword, and would kill and destroy the King’s captains and drive all his soldiers out of the town. He said, moreover, that he knew there were 448 B TJNYA N ’S COMPLETE WORKS. about twenty thousand fighting men prepared by Diabolus for the accomplishing of this de- sign : and that it would not be months before they all should see it. When Mr. Pry-well had heard this story, he did quickly believe it was true; wherefore he went forthwith to my lord mayor’s house and acquainted him there- with ; who, sending for the subordinate preacher, brake the business to him, and he as soon gave the alarm to the town, for he was now the chief preacher in Mansoul, because as yet my lord secretary was ill at ease. And this was the way that the subordinate preacher did take to alarm the town therewith : The same hour he caused the lecture-bell to be rung; so the people came together; he gave them then a short exhortation to watch fulness, and made Mr. Pry-well’s news the argument there- of. For, said he, an horrible plot is contrived against Mansoul, even to massacre us all in a day ; nor is this story to be slighted, for Mr. Pry-well is the author thereof. Mr. Pry-well was always a lover of Mansoul, a sober and judicious man, a man that is no tattler, no raiser of false reports, but one that loves to look into the bottom of matters, and talks nothing of news but by very solid arguments. I will call him, and you shall hear him your ownselves. So he called him, and he came and told his tale so punctually, and af- firmed its truth with such ample grounds, that Mansoul fell presently under a conviction of the truth of what he said. The preacher also backed him, saying, “Sirs, it is not irrational for us to believe it, for we have provoked Shaddai to anger and have sinned Emmanuel out of the town. We have had too much cor- respondence with Diabolonians, and have for- saken our former mercies ; no marvel then if the enemy both within and without should design and plot our ruin ; and what time like this to do it ? The sickness is now in the town, and we have been made weak thereby. Many a good-meaning man is dead, and the Diabolo- nians of late grow stronger and stronger. “ Besides,” quoth the subordinate preacher, “I have received from this good truth-teller this one inkling further, that he understood by those that he overheard that several letters have lately passed between the furies and the Diabolonians in order to our destruction.” When Mansoul heard all this, and not being able to gainsay it, they lifted up their voice and wept. Mr. Pry-well also, in the presence of the townsmen, confirmed all that their sub- ordinate preacher had said. Wherefore they now set afresh to bewail their folly, and to a doubling of petitions to Shaddai and his Son. They also brake the business to the captains, high commanders, and men of war in the town of Mansoul, entreating them to use the means to be strong and to take good courage, and that they would look after their harness and make themselves ready to give Diabolus bat- tle by night and by day, should he come, as they were informed he would, to beleaguer the town of Mansoul. When the captains heard this, they being always true lovers of the town of Mansoul, what do they but like so many Samsons they shake themselves, and come together to consult and contrive how to defeat those bold and hellish contrivances that were upon the wheel, by the means of Diabolus and his friends, against the now sickly, weakly, and much im- poverished town of Mansoul ; and they agreed upon the following particulars : 1. That the gates of Mansoul should he kept shut and made fast with bars and locks ; and that all persons that went out or came in should be very strictly examined by the cap- tains of the guards, to the end, said they, that those that are managers of the plot among us may. either coming or going, be taken, and that w r e may also find out who are the great contrivers, amongst us. of our ruin. 2. The next thing was, that a strict search should be made for all kinds of Diabolonians throughout the whole town of Mansoul, and that every man’s house from top to bottom should be looked into, and that, too, house by house, that if possible a further- discovery might be made of all such among them as had a hand in these designs. 3. It was further concluded upon that where- soever or with whomsoever any of the Diabo- lonians were found, that even those of the town of Mansoul that had given them house and harbour should to their shame and the warning of others make penance in the open place. 4. It was moreover resolved by the famous town of Mansoul that a public fast and a day of humiliation should be kept throughout the whole corporation, to the justifying of their Prince, the abasing of themselves before him for their transgressions against him and against Shaddai his Father. It was further resolved that all such in Mansoul as did not that day endeavour to keep that fast and to humble themselves for their faults, but should mind their worldly employs or be found wandering THE 1I0LY WAR. 449 * up and down the streets, should he taken for Diabolonians, and should suffer as Diabolo- nians for such their wicked doings. 5. It was further concluded then that with what speed and with what warmth of mind they could they would renew their humil- iation for sin, and their petitions to Shaddai for help ; they also resolved to send tidings to the court of all that Mr. Pry-well had told them. 6. It was also determined that thanks should be given by the town of Mansoul to Mr. Pry- well for his diligent seeking of the welfare of their town; and further, forasmuch as he was naturally inclined to seek their good and also to undermine their foes, they gave him a com- mission of scoutmaster-general, for the good of the town of Mansoul. When the corporation, with their captains, had thus concluded, they did as they had said: they shut up their gates; they made for Diabolonians strict search ; they made those with whom any were found to do pen- ance in the open place; they kept their fast and renewed their petitions to their Prince ; and Mr. Pry-well managed his charge and the trust that Mansoul had put in his hands with great conscience and good fidelity; for he gave himself wholly up to his employ, and that not only within the town, but he went out to pry, to see, and to hear. And .not many days after he provided for his journey and went towards Hell-gate-hill, into the country where the Doubters were, where he heard of all that had been talked of in Mansoul, and he perceived also that Diab- olus was almost ready for his march, &c. ; so he came back with speed, and calling the cap- tains and elders of Mansoul together, he told them where he had been, what he had heard, and what he had seen. Particularly he told them that Diabolus was almost ready for his march, and that he had made old Mr. Incredulity, that once brake prison in Mansoul, the general of his army; that the army consisted all of Doubt- ers, and that their number was above twenty thousand. He told, moreover, that Diabolus did intend to bring with him the chief princes of the infernal pit, and that he would make them chief captains over his Doubters. He told them, moreover, that it was certainly true that several of the black den would, with Diabolus, ride reformades to reduce the town of Mansoul to the obedience of Diabolus their prince. 29 He said, moreover, that he understood by the Doubters, among whom he had been, that the reason why old Incredulity was made general of the whole army was because none truer than he to the tyrant, and because he had an implacable spite against the welfare of the town of Mansoul. Besides, said he. he remembers the affronts that Mansoul has given, and he is resolved to be revenged of them. But the black princes shall be made high commanders, only Incredulity shall be over them all, because (which I had almost forgot) he can more easily and more dextrously be- leaguer the town of Mansoul than can any of the princes besides. Now, when the captains of Mansoul, with the elders of the town, had heard the tidings that Mr. Pry-well brought, they thought it expedient, without further delay, to put into execution the laws against the Diabolonians which their Prince had made and given them in commandment to manage against them. Wherefore, forthwith a diligent and impartial search was made in all houses in Mansoul for all and all manner of Diabolonians. Now, in the house of Mr. Mind and in the house of the great Lord Will-be-will were two Diabolo- nians found. In Mr. Mind’s house was one Lord Covetousness found, but he had changed his name to Prudent-thrifty. In my Lord Will-be-will’s house one Lasciviousness was found, but he had changed his name to Harm- less-mirth. These two the captains and elders of the town of Mansoul took, and committed them to the custody of Mr. True-man the jailer ; and this man handled them so severely, and loaded them so well with irons, that in time they fell into a very deep consumption and died in the prison-house; their masters also, according to the agreement of the cap- tains and elders, were brought to do penance in the open place, to their shame and as a warning to the rest of the town of Mansoul. Now this was the manner of penance in those days : The persons offending, being made sensible of the evil of their doings, were enjoined open confession of their faults and a strict amendment of their lives. After this the captains and elders of Man- soul sought yet to find out more Diabolonians wherever they lurked, whether in dens, caves, holes, vaults, or where else they could, in or about the wall or the town of Mansoul. But though they could plainly see their footing, and so follow them by their track and smell 450 B UNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to their holds, even to the mouths of their caves and dens, yet take and do justice upon them they could not, their ways were so crooked, their holds so strong, and they so quick to take sanctuary there. But Mansoul ruled now with so stiff an hand over the Diabolonians that were left that they were glad to shrink into corners. Time was when they durst walk openly and in the day, but now they were forced to em- brace privacy and in the night. Time was when a Mansoulian was their companion, hut now they counted them deadly enemies. This good change did Mr. Pry-weil’s intel- ligence make in the famous town of Man- soul. By this time Diabolus had finished his army, which he intended to bring with him for the ruin of Mansoul, and had set over them captains and other field-officers such as liked his furious stomach best; himself was lord paramount, and Incredulity was general of his army. Their highest captains shall be named afterwards, but now for their officers, colours, and escutcheons : 1. Their first captain was Captain Rage: he was captain over the Election-doubters; his were red colours, his standard-bearer was Mr. Destructive, and the great red dragon he had for his escutcheon. 2. The second captain was Captain Fury: he w’as captain over the Vocation-doubters; his standard-bearer was Mr. Darkness, his colours were those that were pale, and he had for his escutcheon the fiery flying serpent. 3. The third captain was Captain Damna- tion : he was captain over the Grace-doubters ; his were the red colours, Mr. No-life bore them, and he had for his escutcheon the black den. 4. The fourth captain was Captain Insati- able: he was captain over the Faith-doubters; his were the red colours, Mr. Devourer bore them, and he had for an escutcheon the yawn- i.ig jaws. 5. The fifth captain was Captain Brimstone : he was captain over the Perseverance-doubt- ers ; his also were the red colours, Mr. Burning bore them, and his escutcheon was the blue and stinking flame. 6. The sixth captain was Captain Torment: he was captain over the Resurrection-doubt- ers ; his colours were those that were pale, Mr. Gnaw was his standard-bearer, and he had the black worm for his escutcheon. 7. The seventh captain was Captain No- ease : he was captain over the Salvation-doubt- ers; his were the red colours, Mr. Restless bore them, and his escutcheon was the ghastly pucture of death. 8. The eighth captain was the Captain Sep- ulchre: he was captain over the Glory-doubt- ers ; his also were the pale colours, Mr. Cor- ruption was his standard-bearer, and he had for his escutcheon a skull and dead men's boues. 9. The ninth captain was Captain Past- hope: he was captain of those that are called the Felicity-doubters; his standard-bearer w r as Mr. Despair, his also were the-red colours, and his escutcheon \vas the hot-iron and the hard heart. These were his captains, and these were their forces, these were their ancients, these were their colours, and these were their escutcheons. Now over these did the great Diabolus make superior captains, and they were in number seven ; as namely, the Lord Beelzebub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and Lord Belial; these seven he set over the captains, and Incredulity was lord general and Diabolus was king. The reformades also, such as were like them- selves, were made some of them captains of hundreds, and some of them captains of more; and thus was the army of Incredulity com- pleted. So they set out at Hell-gate-liill, (for there they had their rendezvous,) from whence they came with a straight course upon their march toward the town of Mansoul. Now, as was hinted before, the town had, as Shaddai would have it, received from the mo’uth of Mr. Pry- well the alarm of their coming before. Where- fore they set a strong watch at the gates, and had also doubled their guards; they also mounted their slings in good places, where they might conveniently cast out their great stones to the annoyance of the furious enemy. Nor could those Diabolonians that were in the town do that hurt as -was designed they should, for Mansoul was now awake. But, alas, poor people ! they were sorely affrighted at the first appearance of their foes, and at their sitting down before the town, especially when they heard the roaring of their drum. This, to speak truth, was amazingly hideous to hear: it frighted all men seven miles round if they were but awake and heard it. The streaming of their colours was also terrible and dejecting to behold. TIIE HOLY WAR. 451 When Diabolus was come up against the town, first he made his approach to Ear-gate, and gave it a furious assault, supposing, as it seems, that his friends in Mansoul had been ready to do the- work within, but care was taken of that before by the vigilance of the captains. Wherefore, missing of the help that he expected from them, and finding his army warmly attacked with the stones that the slingers did sling, (for that I will say for the captains, that, considering the weakness that yet was upon them by reason of the long sick- ness that had annoyed the town of Mansoul, they did gallantly behave themselves,) he was forced to make some retreat from Mansoul, and to entrench himself and his men in the field, without the reach of the slings of the town. Now, having entrenched himself, he did cast up four mounts before the town; the first he called Mount Diabolus, putting his own name thereon, the more to affright the town of Man- soul; the other three he called thus — Mount Alecto, Mount Megara, and Mount Tisiphane, for these are the names of the dreadful furies of hell. Thus be began to play his game with Mansoul, and to serve it as doth the lion his prey, even to make it fall before his terror. But, as I said, the captains and soldiers resisted so stoutly, and did so much execution with their stones, that they made him, though against stomach, to retreat; wherefore Man- soul began to take courage. Now upon Mount Diabolus, which was raised on the north side of the town, there did the tyrant set up his standard, and a fearful thing it was to behold; for he had wrought in it by devilish art, after the manner of an es- cutcheon, a flaming flame fearful to behold, and the picture of Mansoul burning in it. When Diabolus had thus done, he com- manded that his drummer should every night approach the walls of the town of Mansoul and beat a parley ; the command was to do it at nights, for in daytime they annoyed him with their slings ; for the tyrant said that he had a mind to parley with the now trembling- town of Mansoul; and he commanded that the drum should beat every night, that through weariness they might at last (if possibly at the first they were unwilling yet) be forced to do it. So this drummer did as commanded ; he arose and did beat his drum. But when his drum did go, if one looked towards the town of Mansoul, behold darkness and sorrow, and the light was darkened in the heaven thereof. No noise was ever heard upon earth more ter- rible, except the voice of Shaddai when he speaketh. But how did Mansoul tremble ! It now looked for nothing but forthwith to be swallowed up. When this drummer had beaten for a parley, he made this speech to Mansoul : My master has bid me tell you that if you will willingly submit you shall have the good of the earth, but if you shall be stubborn he is resolved to take you by force. But by that the fugitive had done beating of his drum the people of Mansoul had betaken themselves to the cap- tains that were in the castle; so that there was none to regard nor to give this drummer an answer; so he proceeded no further that night, but returned again to his master to the camp. When Diabolus saw that by drumming he could not work out Mansoul to his will, the next night he sendetli his drummer without his drum, still to let the townsmen know that he had a mind to parley with them. But when all came to all, his parley was turned into a summons to the town to deliver up themselves ; but they gave him neither heed nor hearing, for they remembered what at first it cost them to hear him a few words. The next night he sends again, and then who should be his messenger to Mansoul but the terrible Captain Sepulchre; so Captain Sepulchre came up to the walls of Mansoul and made this oration to the town : “ 0 ye inhabitants of the rebellious town of Mansoul! I summon you, in the name of the prince Diabolus, that without any more ado you set open the gates of your town and admit the great lord to come in. But if you shall still rebel, when we have taken to us the town by force we will swallow you up as the grave. Wherefore if you will hearken to my summons, say so, and if not, then let me know. “ The reason of this my summons (quoth he) is for that my lord is your undoubted prince and lord, as you yourselves have formerly owned. Nor shall that assault that was given to my lord when Emmanuel dealt so dishon- ourably by him prevail with him to lose his right and to forbear to attempt to recover his own. Consider then, 0 Mansoul ! with thy- self; wilt thou show thyself peaceable or no? If thou shalt quietly yield up thyself, then our old friendship shall be renewed ; but if thou slialt yet refuse and rebel, then expect nothing but fire and sword.” 452 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. When the languishing town of Mansoul had heard this summoner and his summons, they were yet more put to their dumps, but made the captain no answer at all ; so away he went as he came. But after some consultation among them- selves, as also with some of their captains, they applied themselves afresh to the lord secretary for counsel and advice from him, for this lord secretary was their chief preacher, (as also is mentioned some pages before,) only now he was ill at ease ; and of him they begged favour in these two or three things : 1. That he would look comfortably upon them, and not keep himself so much retired from them as formerly. Also that he would be prevailed with to give them a hearing while they should make known their miserable con- dition to him. But to this he told them, as before, that as yet he was but ill at ease, and therefore could not do as he had formerly done. 2. The second thing that they desired was, that he would be pleased to give them his ad- vice about their now so important affairs, for that Diabolus was come and set down before the town with no less than twenty thousand Doubters. They said, moreover, that both he and his captains were cruel men, and that they were afraid of them. But to this he said, You must look to the law of your Prince, and there see what is laid upon you to do. 3. Then they desired that his highness would help them to frame a petition to Shaddai and unto Emmanuel his Son, and that he would set his own hand thereto, as a token that he was one with them in it; for, said they, My lord, many a one have we sent, but can get no answer of peace ; but now surely one with thy hand unto it may obtain good for Mansoul. But all the answer that he gave to this was, That they had offended their Emmanuel, and had also grieved himself, and that therefore they must as yet partake of their own devices. This answer of the lord secretary fell like a millstone upon them ; yea, it crushed them so that they could not tell what to do ; yet they durst not comply with the demands of Diabolus nor with the demands of his captains. So then here were the straits that the town of Mansoul was betwixt when the enemy came upon her : her foes were ready to swallow her up, and her friends did forbear to help her. Then stood up my lord mayor, whose name was my Lord Understanding, and he began to pick and pick, until he had picked comfort out of that seemingly bitter saying of the lord secretary; for thus he descanted upon it First, said he, this unavoidably follows upon the saying of my lord, that we must yet suffer for our sins. Second, But, quoth he, the words yet sound as if at last we should be saved from our enemies, and that after a few more sor- rows Emmanuel will come and be our help. Now the lord mayor was the more critical in his dealing with the secretary’s words because my lord was more than a prophet, and because none of his words were such but that at all times they were most exactly significant, and the townsmen were allowed to pry into them and to expound them to their best advantage. So they took their leaves of my lord, and returned and went and came to the captains, to whom they did tell what my lord high secre- tary had said ; who, when they had heard it, were all of the same opinion as my lord mayor himself; the captains therefore began to take some courage unto them, and to prepare to make some brave attempt upon the camp of the enemy, and to destroy all that were Diab- olonians, with the roving Doubters that the tyrant had brought with him to destroy the poor town of Mansoul. So all betook themselves forthwith to their places — the captains to theirs, the lord mayor to his, the subordinate preacher to his, and my Lord Will-be-will to his. The captains longed to be at some work for their Prince, for they delighted in warlike achievements. The next day therefore they came together and con- sulted, and after a consultation had they re- solved to give an answer to the captain of Diabolus with slings ; and so they did at the rising of the sun on the morrow, for Diabolus had adventured to come nearer again, but the sling-stones were to him and his like hornets. For as there is nothing to the town of Mansoul so terrible as the roaring of Diabolus’ drum, so there is nothing to Diabolus so terrible as the well playing of Emmanuel’s slings. Where- fore Diabolus was forced to make another re- treat yet farther off from the famous town of Mansoul. Then did the lord mayor of Man- soul cause the bells to be rung, and that thanks should be sent to the lord high secre- tary by the mouth of the subordinate preacher for that by his words the captains and elders of Mansoul had been strengthened against Diabolus. When Diabolus saw that his captains and soldiers, high lords and renowned, were fright- ened and beaten down by the stones that came from the golden slings of the Prince of the town of Mansoul, lie bethought himself and said, I will try to catch them by fawning; I will try to flatter them into my net. Wherefore, after a while he came down again to the wall, not now with his drum nor with Captain Sepulchre, but having all so bc- sugared his lips that lie seemed to be a very sweet-mouthed, peaceable prince, designing nothing for honour’s sake, nor to be revenged on Mansoul for injuries by them done to him; but the welfare and good and advantage of the town and people therein were now, as he said, his only design. Wherefore after he had called for audience, and desired that the townsfolk would give it to him, he proceeded in his ora- tion and said : “ Oh the desire of my heart, the famous town of Mansoul 1 How many nights have I watched, and how many weary steps have I taken, if perhaps I might do.thee good! Far be it, far be it from me to desire to make a war upon you if ye will but willingly and quietly deliver up yourselves unto me. You know that you were mine of old. Remember also that so long as you enjoyed me for your lord, and that I enjoyed you for my subjects, you wanted for nothing of all the delights of the earth that I, your lord’ and prince, could get for you, or that I could invent to make you bonny and blithe withal. Consider you never had so many hard, dark, troublesome, and heart-afflicting hours while you were mine as you have had since you revolted from me; nor shall you ever have peace again until you and I become one as before. Be but prevailed with to em- brace me again, and I will grant, yea, enlarge your old charter with abundance of privileges, so that your license and liberty shall be to take, hold, enjoy, and make your own all that is pleasant from the east to the west. Nor shall any of those incivilities wherewith you have offended me be ever charged upon you by me so long as the sun and moon endureth. Nor shall any of those dear friends of mine that now, for the fear of you, lie lurking in dens, and holes, and caves in Mansoul, be hurtful to you any more ; yea, they shall be your servants, and shall minister unto you of their substance and of whatever shall come to hand. I need speak no more: you know them, and have some time since been much delighted in their company ; why then should we abide at such odds? Let us renew our old acquaintance and friendship again. “Bear with your friend; I take the liberty at. this time to speak thus freely unto you. The love that I have to you presses me to do it, as also does the zeal of my heart for my friends with you ; put me not therefore to further trouble, nor yourself to further fear and frights. Have you I will, in a way of peace or war; nor do you flatter yourselves with the power and force of your captains, or that your Emmanuel will shortly come in to your help, for such strength will do you no pleasure. “ I am come against you with a stout and valiant army, and all the chief princes of the den are even at the head of it. Besides, my captains are swifter than eagles, stronger than lions, and more greedy of prey than are the evening wolves. What is Og of Bashau, what is Goliah of Gath, and what is an hundred more of them to one of the least of my cap- tains? • How, then, shall Mansoul think to es- cape my hand and force ? ” Diabolus having thus ended his flattering, fawning, deceitful, and lying speech to the famous town of Mansoul, the lord mayor re- plied unto him as follows : “ 0 Diabolus, prince of darkness and master of all deceit ! thy lying flatteries we have had and made sufficient probation of, and have tasted too deeply of that destructive cup al- ready ; should we, therefore, again hearken unto thee, and so break the commandment of our great Shaddai to join affinity with thee, would not our Prince reject us and cast us off for ever? and being cast off by him, can the place that he has prepared for thee be a place of rest for us? Besides, 0 thou that art empty and void of all truth ! we. are rather ready to die by thy hand than to fall in with thy flattering and lying deceits.” When the tyrant saw that there was little to be got by parleying with my lord mayor, he fell into an hellish rage, and resolved that again with his army of Doubters he would another time assault the town of Mansoul. So he called for his drummer, who beat up for his men (and while he did beat, Mansoul did shake) to be in readiness to give battle to the corporation ; then Diabolus drew near with his army, and thus disposed of his men : Captain Cruel and Captain Torment, these he drew up and placed against Feel-gate, and commanded them to sit down there for the war. And he also appointed that, if need were, Captain No-ease should come in to theii relief. At Nose-gate he placed the Captain Brim- stone and Captain Sepulchre, and bid them 454 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. look well to tlieir ward on that side of the town of Mansoul. But at Eye-gate he placed that grimfaced one, the Captain Past-hope, and there also now did he set up his terrible standard. Now the Captain Insatiable was to look to the carriages of Diabolus, and was also ap- pointed to»take into custody that or those per- sons and things that should at any time as prey be taken from the enemy. Now Mouth-gate the inhabitants of Mansoul kept for a sally-port ; wherefore that they kept strong, for that was it by and out at which the townsfolk did send their petitions to Em- manuel their Prince; that also was the gate from the top of which the captains did play their slings at the enemies ; for that gate stood somewhat ascending, so that the placing of them there and the letting of them fly from that place did much execution against the tyrant’s army ; wherefore, for these causes with others, Diabolus sought, if possible, to stop up Mouth-gate with dirt. Now, as Diabolus was busy and industrious in preparing to make his assault upon the town of Mansoul without, so the captains and soldiers in the corporation were as busy in preparing within ; they mounted their slings, they set up their banners, they sounded their trumpets, and put themselves in such order as was judged most for the annoyance of the enemy and for the advantage of Mansoul, and gave their soldiers orders to be ready at the sound of the trumpet for war. The Lord Will- be-will also, he took the charge of watching against the rebels within, and to do what he could to take them while without, or to stifle them within their caves, dens, and holds in the town-wall of Mansoul. And, to speak the truth of him, ever since he took penance for his fault he had showed as much honesty and bravery of spirit as any he in Mansoul ; for he took one Jolly and his brother Grig- gish, the two sons of his servant Harmless- mirth, (for to that day, though the father was committed to ward, the sons had a dwelling in the house of my lord;) — I say, he took them and with his own hands put them to the cross. And this was the reason why he hanged them up : After their father was put into the hands of Mr. True-man, the jailer, his sons began to play his pranks, and to be tickling and toying with the daughters of their lord ; nay, it was jealousied that they were too familiar with them, the which was brought to his lordship’s ear. Now his lordship being unwilling unad- visedly to put any man to death, did not sud- denly fall upon them, but set watch and spies to see if the thing was true; of the which he was soon informed, for his two servants, whose names were Find-all and Tell-all, eatched them together in uncivil manner more than once or twice, and went and told their lord. So when my Lord Will-be-will had sufficient ground to believe the thing was true, he takes the two young Diabolonians — for. such they were, for their father was a Diabolonian born — and has them to Eye-gate, wherehe raised a very high cross just in the face of Diabolus and of his army, and there he hanged the young villains in defiance of Captain Past-hope and of the horrible standard of the tyrant. Now, this Christian act of the brave Lord Will-be-will did greatly abash Captain Past- hope, discourage the army of Diabolus, put fear into the Diabolonian runagates in Man- soul, and put strength and courage into the cap- tains that belonged to Emmanuel the Prince ; for they without did gather, and that by this very act of my lord, that Mansoul was re- solved to fight, and that the Diabolonians within the town could not do such things as Diabolus had hopes they would. Nor was this the only proof of the brave Lord Will-be- will’s honesty to the town nor of his loyalty to his Prince, as will afterwards appear. Now when the children of Prudent-thrifty, who dwelt with Mr. Mind, (for Thrifty left children with Mr. Mind when he was also committed to prison, and their names were Gripe and Rake-all; these he begat of Mr. Mind’s bastard daughter, whose name was Mrs. Holdfast-bad ;■) — I say, when his chil- dren perceived how the Lord Will-be-will had served them that dwelt with him, what do they but (lest they should drink of the same cup) endeavour to make their escape. But Mr. Mind, being wary of it, took them and put them in hold in his house till morning, (for this was done over night,) and remembering that by the law of Mansoul all Diabolonians were to die, and to he sure they were at least by father’s side such, and some say by mother’s side too, what does he but takes them and puts them in chains,- and carries them to the selfsame place where my lord hanged his two before, and there he hanged them. The townsmen also took great encourage- ment at this act of Mr. Mind, and did what they could to have taken some more of these Diabolonian troublers of Mansoul ; but at that time the rest lay so close that they could not be apprehended ; so they set against THE HOLY WAR. them a diligent watch, an I went every man to his place. I told you a little before that Diabolus and bis army were somewhat abashed and dis- mayed at the sight of what my Lord Will-be- will did when he hanged up those two young Diabolonians; but his discouragement quickly turned itself into furious madness and rage against the town of Mansoul, and fight it he would. Also the townsmen and captains within, they had their hopes and their ex- pectations heightened, believing at last the day would be theirs; so they feared them the less. Their subordinate preacher too made a sermon about it, and he took that theme for his text Gad, a troop shall overcome him, but he shall overcome at last;” whence lie showed that though Mansoul should be sorely put to it at the first, yet the victory should most certainly be Mansoul’s at the last. So Diabolus commanded that his drummer should beat a charge against the town, and the captains also that were in the town sounded a charge against them, but they had no drum : they were trumpets of silver with which they sounded against them. Then they which were of the camp of Diabolus came down to the town to take it, and the captains in the castle, W'itlx the slingers at Mouth-gate, played upon them amain. And now there was nothing heard in the camp of Diabolus but horrible rage and blasphemy, but in the town good words, prayer, and singing of psalms: the enemy replied with horrible objections and the terribleness of their drum, but the town made answer with slapping of their slings and the melodious noise of their trumpets. And thus the fight lasted for several days together ; only now and then they had some small intermis- sion, in the which the townsmen refreshed themselves and the captains made ready for another assault. The captains of Emmanuel were clad in silver armour, and the soldiers in that which was of proof; the soldiers of Diabolus were clad in iron," which was made to give place to Emmanuel’s engine-shot. In the town some were hurt and some were greatly wounded. Now the worst of it was, a surgeon was scarce in Mansoul, for that Emmanuel at this time was absent. Howbeit, with the leaves of a tree the wounded were kept from dying ; yet their wounds did greatly putrefy, and some did grievously stink. Of the townsmen these Were wounded, to wit : My Lord Reason, he was wounded in the head. 455 Another that was wounded w r as the brave lord mayor, he was wounded in the eye. Another that was wounded was Mr. Mind, he received his wound about the stomach. The honest subordinate preacher also, he re- ceived a shot not far off from the heart, but none of these were mortal. Many also of the inferior sort were not only wounded, but slain outright. Now in the camp of Diabolus were wounded and slain a considerable number. For in- stance : Captain Rage, he was wounded, and so was Captain Cruel. Captain Damnation was made to retreat and to entrench himself further off of Mansoul ; the standard also of Diabolus was beaten down, and his standard-bearer, Captain Much-hurt, had his brains beat out with a sling-stone, to the no little grief and shame of his prince Diabolus. Many also of the Doubters were slain out- right, though enough of them were left alive to make Mansoul shake and totter. Now the victory that day being turned to Mansoul, did put great valour into the townsmen and cap- tains, and did cover Diabolus’ camp with a cloud, but withal it made them far more furi- ous. So the next day Mansoul rested, and commanded that the bells should be rung ; the trumpets also joyfully sounded and the captains shouted round the town. My Lord Will-be-will also was not idle, but did notableservice within against the domestics, or the Diabolonians that were in the town, not only by .keeping of them in awe ; for he lighted on one at last whose name was Mr. Anything, a fellow of whom mention was made before, for it was he, if you remember, that brought the three fellows to Diabolus whom the Diab- olonians took out of Captain Boanerges’ com- pany, and that persuaded them to list them- selves under the tyrant to fight against the army of Shaddai; my Lord Will-be-will did also take a notable Diabolonian whose name was Loose-foot ; this Loose-foot was a scout to the vagabonds in Mansoul, and that did use to carry tidings out of Mansoul to the camp, and out of the camp to those of the enemies in Mansoul ; both these my lord sent away safe to Mr. True-man the jailer, with a command- ment to keep them in irons, for he intended then to have them out to be crucified when it would be for the best to the corporation and most for the discouragement of the camp of the enemies. 456 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. My lord mayor also, though he could not stir about so much as formerly, because of the wound that he lately received, yet gave he out orders to all that were the natives in Mansoul to look to their watch and stand upon their guard, and as occasion should offer to prove themselves men. Mr. Conscience, the preacher, he also did his utmost to keep all his good documents alive upon the hearts of the people of Man- soul. Well, awhile after the captains and stout ones of the town of Mansoul agreed and re- solved upon a time to make a sally out upon the camp of Diabolus, and this must be done in the night ; and there was the folly of Man- soul, (for the night is always the best for the enemy, but the worst for Mansoul to fight in;) but yet they would do it, their courage was so high ; their last victory also still stuck in their memories. So the night appointed being come, the Prince’s brave captains cast lots who should lead the van in this new and desperate expe- dition against Diabolus and against his Diab- olonian army; and the lot fell to Captain Credence, to Captain Experience, and to Cap- tain Good-hope to lead the forlorn hope. (This Captain Experience the Prince created such when himself did reside in the town of Man- soul.) So, as I said, they made their sally out upon the army that lay in the siege against them, and their hap was to fall in with the main body of their enemy. Now, Diabolus and his men being expertly accustomed to night work, took the alarm presently, and were as ready to give them battle as if they had sent him word of their coming. Wherefore to it they went amain, and blows were hard on every side; the hell-drum also beat furiously while the trumpets of the Prince most sweetly sound- ed. And thus the battle was joined, and Cap- tain Insatiable looked to the enemy’s carriages, and waited when he should receive some prey. The Prince’s captains fought it stoutly, be- yond what, indeed, could be expected they should : they wounded many ; they made the whole army of Diabolus to make a retreat. But I cannot tell how, but as the brave Cap- tain Credence, Captain Good-hope, and Cap- tain Experience, they were upon the pursuit, cutting down and following hard after the enemy in the rear, Captain Credence stumbled and fell, by which fall he caught so great a hurt that he could not rise till Captain Ex- perience did help him up, at which their men were put in disorder ; the captain also was so full of pain that he could not forbear but aloud to cry out; at this the other two captains fainted, supposing that Captain Credence had received his mortal wound; their men also were more disordered and had no list to fight. Now, Diabolus being very observing, though at this time as yet he was put to the worst, perceiving that an halt was made among the men that were the pursuers, what does he but take it for granted that the captains were either wounded or dead : he therefore makes at first a stand, then faces about, and so comes up upon the Prince’s army with as much of his fury as hell could help him to ; and his hap was to fall in just among the three captains, Captain Credence, Captain Good-hope, and Captain Experience, and did cut, wound, and pierce them so dreadfully that, what through discouragement, what through disorder, and what through the wounds that now they had received, and also the loss of much blood, they scarce were able, though they had for their power the three best hands in all Mansoul, to get safe into the hold again. Now when the body of the Prince’s army saw how these three captains were put to the worst, they thought it their wisdom to make as safe and good a retreat as they could, and so returned by the sally-port again; and so there was an end of this present action. But Diabolus was so flushed with this night’s work that he promised himself in a few days an easy and complete conquest over the town of Mansoul. Wherefore, on the day following he comes up to the sides thereof with great boldness, and demands entrance and that forthwith they deliver themselves up to his government. The Diabolonians, too, that were within, they began to be somewhat brisk, as we shall show afterward. But the valiant lord mayor replied that what he got he must get by force ; for as long as Emmanuel their Prince was alive (though he at present was not so with them as they wished) they should never consent to yield up Mansoul to another. And with that the Lord Will-be-will stood up and said, “ Diabolus, thou master of the den and enemy to all that is good ! we poor inhabitants of the town of Mansoul are too well acquainted with thy rule and government, and with the end of those things that for cer- tain will follow submitting to thee, to do it, Wherefore, though while we were without knowledge we suffered thee to take us, (as the T1IE HOLY WAR. 457 bird that saw not the snare fell into the hands of the fowler,) yet since we have been turned from darkness to light we have also been turned from the power of Satan to God. And though through thy subtlety, and the subtlety of the Diabolonians within, we have sustained much loss, and also plunged ourselves into much perplexity, yet give up ourselves, lay down our arms, and yield to so horrid a tyrant as thou, we will not; die upon the place we choose rather to do. Besides, we have hopes that in time deliverance will come from court unto us, and therefore we will yet maintain a war against thee.” This brave speech of the Lord Will-be-will, with that also of the lord mayor, did some- what abate the boldness of Diabolus, though it kindled the fury of his rage. It also en- couraged the townsmen and captains, yea, it was as a plaster to the brave Captain Cre- dence’s wound ; for you must know that a brave speech now, when the captains of the town with their men of war came home routed, and when the enemy took courage and bold- ness at the success that he had obtained to draw up to the walls and demand entrance, as he did, was in season, and also advan- tageous. The Lord Will-be-will also did play the man within ; for while the captains and sol- diers were in the field he was in arms in the town, and wherever by him there was a Diab- olonian found, they were forced to feel the weight of his heavy hand and also the edge of his penetrating sword : many therefore of the Diabolonians he wounded, as the Lord Cavil, the Lord Brisk, the Lord Pragmatic, and the Lord Murmur ; several also of the meaner sort he did sorely maim, though there cannot at this time an account be given of any that he slew outright. The cause, or rather the advantage, that my Lord Will-be-will had at this time to do thus was for that the captains were gone out to fight the enemy in the field. For now, thought the Diabolonians within, is our time to stir and make an uproar in the town. What do they, therefore, but quickly get themselves into a body, and fall forthwith to hurrieaning in Mansoul, as if now nothing but whirlwind and tempest should be there? Wherefore, as I said, he takes this opportunity to fall in among them with his men, cutting and slashing with courage that was undaunted ; at which the Diabolonians with all haste dis- persed themselves to their holds, and my lord to his place as before. This brave act of my lord did somewhat re- venge the wrongs done by Diabolus to the captains, and also did let them know that Mansoul was not to be parted with for the loss of a victory or two ; wherefore the wing of the tyrant was clipped again — as to boasting, I mean — in comparison of what lie would have done if the Diabolonians had put the town to the same plight to which he had put the cap- tains. Well, Diabolus yet resolved to have the other bout with Mansoul; For, thought he, since I beat them once, I may beat them twice. Wherefore he commanded his men to be ready at such an hour of the night to make a fresh assault upon the town, and he gave out in special that they should bend all their force against Feel-gate, and attempt to break into the town through that. The word that then he did give his officers and soldiers was Hell- fire. And, said he, if we break in upon them, as I wish we do, either with some or with all our force, let them that break in look to it that they forget not the word. And let nothing be heard in the town of Mansoul but ITell-fire! Hell-fire! Hell-fire! The drummer was also to beat without ceasing, and the standard- bearers were to display their colours ; the sol- diers too were to put on what courage they could, and to see that they played manfully their parts against the town. So the night was come, and all things by the tyrant made ready for the work : he suddenly makes his assault upon Feel-gate, and after he had a while struggled there, he throws the gates wide open, for the truth is, those gates were but. weak, and so most easily made to yield. When Diabolus had thus far made his attempt, he placed his captains — to wit. Tor- ment and No-ease — there; so he attempted to press forward, but the Prince’s captains came down upon him and made his entrance more difficult than he desired. And, to speak truth, they made what resistance they could ; but t ie three of the best and most valiant captains being wounded, and by their wounds made much incapable of doing the town that service they would, (and all the rest having more than their hands full of Doubters and their captains that did follow Diabolus,) they were overpow- ered with force, nor could they keep them out of the town. Wherefore the Prince’s men and their captains betook themselves to the castle, as the stronghold of the town ; and this they did partly for the security of the town, and partly, or rather chiefly, to preserve to Em- 458 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. manuel the prerogative-royal of Mansoul, for so was the castle of Mansoul. The captains therefore being fled into the castle, the enemy, without much resistance, pos- sessed themselves of the rest of the town, and spreading themselves as they went into every corner, they cried out as they marched, accord- ing to the command of the tyrant, Hell-fire! Hell-fire ! so that nothing for awhile through- out the town of Mansoul could be heard but the dreadful noise of Hell-fire, together with the roaring of Diabolus’ drum. And now did the clouds hang black over Mansoul, nor to reason did any thing but ruin seem to attend it. Diabolus also quartered his soldiers in the houses of the inhabitants of the town of Man- soul. Yea, the subordinate preacher’s house was as full of these outlandish Doubters as ever it could hold; and so were my lord mayor’s and my 'Lord Will-be-wilPs also. Yea, where was there a corner, a cottage, a barn, or a liogsty, that were not full of these vermin? Yea, they turned the men of the town out of their houses, and would lie in their beds and sit at their tables themselves. Ah poor Mansoul ! now thou feelest the fruits of sin, and what venom was in the flattering words of Mr. Carnal-security. They made great havoc of whatever they laid their hands on ; yea, they fired the town in several places ; many young children also were by them dashed in pieces ; yea, those that were yet unborn they destroyed in their mothers’ wombs; for you must needs think that it could not be other- wise, for what conscience, what pity, what bowels of compassion can any expect at the hands of outlandish Doubters? Many in Mansoul that were women, both young and old, they forced, ravished, and beast-like abused, so that they swooned, miscarried, and many of them died, and so lay at the top of every street and in all by-places of the town. And now did Mansoul seem to be nothing but a den of dragons, an emblem of hell, and a place of total darkness. Now did Mansoul lie almost like the barren wilderness ; nothing but nettles, briers, thorns, weeds, and stinking things seemed now to cover the face of Man- soul. I told you before how that these Diabo- • Ionian Doubters turned the men of Mansoul out of their beds; and now I will add they wounded them, they mauled them, yea, and al- most brained many of them. Many, did I say? Yea, most if not all of them. Mr. Conscience they so wounded, yea, and his wounds so festering, that he could have no I ease day or night, but lay as if continually upon a rack, (but that Shaddai rules all cer- tainly they had slain him outright;) my lord mayor they so abused that they almost put out his eyes; and had not my Lord Will-be-will got into the castle, they intended to have chopped him all to pieces, for they did look upon him (as his heart now stood) to be one of the very worst that was in' Mansoul against Diabolus and his crew. And indeed he showed himself a man, and more of his exploits you will hear of afterwards. Now a man might have walked for days to- gether in Mansoul and scarce have seen one in the town that looked like a religious man. Oh the fearful state of Mansoul now! Now every corner swarmed with outlandish Doubt- ers ; red-coats and black-coats walked the town by clusters, aud filled up all the houses with hideous noises, vain songs, lying stories, and blasphemous language against Shaddai and his Son. Now also, those Diabolonians that lurked in the walls, and dens, and holes that were in the town of Mansoul came forth and showed themselves, yea, walked with open face in company with the Doubters that were in Mansoul. Yea, they had more boldness now to walk the streets, to haunt the houses, and to show themselves abroad than had any of the honest inhabitants of the now woeful town of Mansoul. But Diabolus and his outlandish men were not at peace in Mansoul, for they were not there entertained as were the captains and forces of Emmanuel ; the townsmen did brow- beat them what they could; nor did they par- take or make destruction of any of the neces- saries of Mansoul but that which they seized on against the townsmen’s will; what they could they hid from them, and what they could not they had with an ill-will. They, poor hearts ! had rather have had their room than their company, but they were at present their captives, and their captives for the present they were forced to' be. But, I say, they dis- countenanced them as much as they were able, and showed them all the dislike that they could. The captains also from the castle did hold them in continual play with their slings, to the chafing and fretting of the minds of the enemies. True, Diabolus made a great many attempts to have broken open the gate of the castle; but Mr. Godly-fear was made keeper of that, and he was a man of that courage, conduct, and valour that it Til E HOLY WAR. was in vain, us long us life lusted within him, to think to do thut work, though mostly de- sired; wherefore nil the attempts thut Diab- olus made against him were fruitless. (I have wished sometimes thut the man had the whole rule of the town of Mansoul.) Well, this was the condition of the town of Mansoul for about two years and a half: the body of the town was the seat of war; the people of the town were driven into holes, and the glory of Mansoul was laid in the dust; what rest, then, could be to the inhabitants, what peace could Mansoul have, and what sun could shine upon it? Had the enemy lain so long without in the plain against the town, it had been enough to have famished them ; but now when they shall be within, when the town shall be their tent, their trench, and fort against the castle that was in the town, when the town shall be against the town, and shall serve to be a fence to the enemies of her strength and life;— I say, when, they shall make use of the forts and townholds to secure themselves in, even till they shall take, spoil, and demolish the castle, this was terrible, and yet this was now the state of the town of Mansoul. After the town of Mansoul had been in this sad and lamentable condition for so long a time as I have told you, and no petitions that they presented their Prince with (all this while) could prevail, the inhabitants of the town — to wit, the elders and chiefs of Mansoul — gathered together, and after some time spent in condoling their miserable state and this miserable judgment coining upon them, they agreed together to draw up yet another peti- tion, and to send it away to Emmanuel for relief. But Mr. Godly-fear stood up and an- swered that he knew that his Lord the Prince never did nor ever would receive a petition for these matters from the hand of any whoever unless the lord secretary’s hand was to it, (and this, quoth he, is the reason that you prevailed not all this while.) Then they said they would draw up one and get the lord secretary’s hand to it. But Mr. Godly-fear answered again that he knew also that the lord secretary would not set his hand to any petition that himself had not an hand in composing and drawing up; and besides, saith he, the Prince doth know my lord secretary’s hand from all the hands in the world, wherefore he cannot be deceived by any pretence whatever; wherefore my advice is, that you go to my lord and implore him to lend you his aid, (now he did yet abide in the 459 castle where all the captains and men at arms were. ) So they heartily thanked Mr. Godly-fear, took his counsel, and did as he had bidden them ; so they went and came to my lord and made known the cause of their coming to him — to wit, that since Mansoul was in so deplor- able a condition, his highness would be pleased to undertake to draw up a petition for them to Emmanuel, the Son of the mighty Shaddai, and to their King and his Father by him. Then said the secretary to them, What peti- tion is it that you would have me draw up for you? But they said, Our lord knows best the state and condition of the town of Mansoul, and how we are backslidden and degenerate from the Prince; thou also k no west who is come up to war against us, and how Mansoul is now the scat of war. My lord knows more- over what barbarous usages our men, women, and children have suffered at their hands, and how our homebred Diabolonians do walk now with more business than dare the townsmen in the streets of Mansoul. Let our lord there- fore, according to the wisdom of God that is iu him, draw up a petition for his poor servants to our Prince Emmanuel. Well, said the lord secretary, I will draw up a petition for you, and will also set my hand thereto. Then said they, But when shall we call for it at the hands of our lord? But he answered, Yourselves must be present at the doing of it ; yea, you must put your desires to it. True, the hand and pen shall be mine, but the ink and paper must be yours, else how can you say it is your petition? Nor have I need to petition for myself, because I have not offended. He also added as followetli, No petition goes from me in my name to the Prince, and so to his Father by him, but when the people that are chiefly concerned therein do join in heart and soul in the matter, for that must be inserted therein. So they did heartily agree with the sentence of the lord, and a petition was forthwith drawn up for them. But how who should carry it ? that was next. But the secretary advised that Captain Credence should carry if, for he was a well-spoken man. They therefore called for him and propounded to him the business. Well, said the captain, I gladly accept of the motion ; and though I am lame, I will do this business for you with as much speed and as well as I cant The contents of the petition were to this purpose : 460 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 0 our Lord and Sovereign Prince Emman- uel, the potent, the long-suffering Prince ! grace is poured into thy lips, and to thee be- longs mercy and forgiveness, though we have rebelled against thee. We, who are no more worthy to be called thy Mansoul, nor yet fit to partake of common benefits, do beseech thee, and thy Father by thee, to do away our trans- gressions. We confess that thou mightest cast us away for them, but do it not for thy name’s sake ; let the Lord rather take an opportunity at our miserable condition to let out his bowels and compassion to us; we are compassed on every side : Lord, our own backslidings reprove us ; our Diabolonians within our town fright us, and the army of the angel of the bottom- less pit distresses us. Thy grace can be our salvation, and whither to go but to thee we know not. Furthermore, 0 gracious Prince, we have weakened our captains, and they are discour- aged, sick, and of late some of them grievously worsted and beaten out of the field by the power and force of the tyrant. Yea, even those of our captains in whose valour we did formerly use to put most of our confidence, they are as wounded men. Besides, Lord, our enemies are lively, and they are strong ; they vaunt and boast themselves, and do threaten to part us among themselves for a booty. They are fallen also upon us, Lord, with many thou- sand Doubters, such as with whom we cannot tell what to do ; they are all grim-looking and unmerciful ones, and they bid defiance to us and thee. Our wisdom is gone, our power is gone, be- cause thou art departed from us, nor have we what we may call ours, but sin, shame, and confusion of face for sin. Take pity upon us, O Lord, take pity upon us thy miserable town of Mansoul, and save us out of the hands of our enemies. Amen. This petition, as was touched afore, was handed by the lord secretary and carried to the court by the brave and most stout Captain Credence. Now he carried it out at Mouth- gate, for that, as I said, was the sally-port of the town ; ancf he went and came to Emmanuel with it. Now how it came out, I do not know, but for certain it did, and that so far as to reach the ears of Diabolus. Thus I conclude because that the tyrant had it presently by the end, and charged the town of Mansoul with it, saying, Thou rebellious and stubborn-hearted Mansoul, I will make thee to leave off petition- ing ; art thou yet for petitioning ? I will make thee to leave. Yea, he also knew who the messenger was that carried the petition to the Prince, and it made him both to fear and rage. Wherefore he commanded that his drum should be beat again, a thing that Mansoul could not abide to hear ; but when Diabolus will have his drum beat, Mansoul must abide the noise. Well, the drum was beat and the Diabolonians were gathered together. Then said Diabolus, 0 ye stout Diabolo- nians, be it known unto you that there is treachery hatched against us in the rebellious town of Mansoul ; for albeit the town is in our possession, as you see, yet these miserable Mansoulians have attempted to dare and have been so hardy as yet to send to the court to Emmanuel for help. This I give you to un- derstand that ye may yet know how to carry it to the wretched town of Mansoul. Wherefore, 0 my trusty Diabolonians, I command that yet more and more ye distress this town of Mansoul and vex it with your wiles, ravish their women, deflower their virgins, slay their children, brain their ancients, fire their town, and what other mischief you can ; and let this be the reward of the Mansoulians from me for their desperate rebellions against me. This you see was the charge, but something stepped in betwixt that and execution, for as yet there was but little more done than to rage. Moreover, when Diabolus had done thus he went the next day up to the castle-gates, and demanded that, upon pain of death, the gates should be opened to him, and that entrance should be given him and his men that followed after. To whom Mr. Godly-fear replied (for he it was that had the charge of that gate) that the gate should not be opened unto him nor to the men that followed after him. He said, moreover, that Mansoul, when she had suffered awhile, should be made perfect, strengthened, settled. Then said Diabolus, Deliver me then the men that have petitioned against me, especially Captain Credence, that carried it to your Prince ; deliver that varlet into my hands, and 1 will depart from the town. Then up starts a Diabolonian, whose name was Mr. Fooling, and said, My lord offereth you fair ; it is better for you that one man per- ish than that your whole Mansoul should be undone. But Mr. Godly-fear made him this reply: How long will Mansoul be kept out of the dungeon when she hath given up her faith to TIIF. 1I0LY WAR. 461 Diabolus? As good lose the town as lose Cap- tain Credence, for if one be gone the other must follow. But to that Mr. Fooling said nothing. Then did my lord mayor reply, and said, O thou devouring tyrant ! be it known unto thee we shall hearken to none of thy words : we are resolved to resist thee as long as a captain, a man, a sling, and a stone to throw at thee shall be found in the town of Mansoul. But Diab- olus answered, Do you hope, do you wait, do you look for help and deliverance? You have sent to Emmanuel, but your wickedness sticks too close in your skirts to let innocent prayers come out of your lips. Think you that you shall be prevailers and prosper in this design ? You will fail in your wish, you will fail in your attempts ; for it is not only I, but your Emmanuel, is against you. Yea, it is he that hath sent me against you to subdue you; for what then do you hope, or by what means will you escape? Then said the lord mayor, We have sinned indeed, but that shall be no help to thee, for our Emmanuel hath said it, and that in great faithfulness, “And him that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out.” He hath also told us, 0 thou our enemy ! that all manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven to the sons of men. Therefore we dare not despair, but will look for, wait for, and hope for deliver- ance still. Now by this time Captain Credence was come from the court from Emmanuel to the castle of Mansoul; and he returned to them with a packet. So my lord mayor, hearing that Captain Credence was come, withdrew himself from the noise of the roaring of the tyrant, and left him to yell at the wall of the town or against the gates of the castle. So he came up to the captain’s lodgings, and saluting him he asked him of his welfare, and what was the best news at court? But when he asked Captain Credence that, the water stood in his eyes. Then said the captain, Cheer up, my lord, for all will be well in time : and with that he first produced his packet and laid it by, but that the lord mayor and the rest of the captains took for a sign of good tidings. Now a season of grace being come, he sent for all the captains and elders of the town that were here and there in their lodgings in the castle and upon their guard, to let them know that Captain Credence was returned from the court, and that he had something in general and something in special to communicate to them. So they all came up to him and saluted him, and asked him concerning his journey, and what was the best news at court? And he an- swered them, as he had done the lord mayor before, that all would be well at last. Now when the captain had thus saluted them, he opened his packet and thence did draw out his several notes for those that he had sent for. And the first note was for my lord mayor, wherein was signified that the Prince Emman- uel had taken it well that my lord mayor had been so true and trusty in his office and the great concerns that lay upon him for the town and people of Mansoul. Also he bid him to know that he took it well that he had been so bold for his Prince Emmanuel, and had en- gaged so faithfully in his cause against Diab- olus. He also signified at the close of his let- ter that he should shortly receive his reward. The second note that came out was for the noble Lord Will-be-will, wherein there was signified that his Prince Emmanuel did well understand how valiant and courageous he had been for the honour of his Lord, now 7 in his absence and when his name was under con- tempt by Diabolus. There was signified also that his Prince had taken it well that he had been so faithful to the town of Mansoul, in his keeping so strict a hand and eye over and so strict a rein upon the necks of the Diabolo- nians that did still lie lurking in their several holes in the famous town of Mansoul. He signified, moreover, liow T that he under- stood that my lord had with his own hand done great execution upon some of the chief of the rebels there, to the great discourage- ment of the adverse party and to the good example of the w'hole town of Mansoul; and that shortly his lordship should have his reward. The third note came out for the subordinate preacher, wherein was signified that his Prince took it w 7 ell from him that he had so honestly and so faithfully performed his office and ex- ecuted the trust Committed to him by his Lord, w T hile he exhorted, rebuked, and forewarned Mansoul according to the laws of the town. He signified, moreover, that he took it well at his hand that lie called to fasting, to sack- cloth, and ashes when Mansoul was under her revolt. Also that he called for the aid of the Captain Boanerges to help in so weighty a work. And that shortly he also should re- ceive his reward. The fourth note came out for Mr. Godly 162 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WOBICS. fear, wherein his Lord thus signified : that his Lordship observed that he was the only man in Mansoul that detected Mr. Carnal-security as the only one, that through his subtlety and cunning, had obtained for Diabolus a defec- tion and decay of goodness in the blessed town of Mansoul. Moreover, his Lord gave him to understand that he still remembered his tears and mourning for the state of Man- soul. It was also observed by the same note that his Lord took notice of his detecting of this Mr. Carnal-security at his own table among the guests in his own house, and that in the midst of his jolliness, even while he was seek- ing to perfect his villainies against the town of Mansoul. Emmanuel also took notice that this reverend person, Mr. Godly-fear, stood stoutly to it at the gates of the castle against all the threats and attempts of the tyrant, and that he put the townsmen in a way to make their petition to their Prince, so as that he might accept thereof, and as that they might obtain an answer of peace ; and that therefore shortly he should receive his reward. After all this there was yet produced a note which -was written to the whole town of Man- soul, whereby they perceived that their Lord took notice of their so often repeating of peti- tions to him, and that they should see more of the fruits of such their doings in time to come. Their Prince did also therein tell them that he took it well that their heart and mind now at last abode fixed upon him and his ways, though Diabolus had made such inroads upon them ; and that neither flatteries on the one hand nor hardships on the other could make them yield to serve his cruel designs. There was also inserted at the bottom of this note that his Lordship had left the town of Mansoul in the hands of the lord secretary and under the conduct of Captain Credence, saying, Beware, that you yet yield yourselves under their governance, and in due time you shall receive your reward. So after the brave Captain Credence had delivered his notes to those to whom they be- longed, he retired himself to my lord secre- tary’s lodgings, and there spent time in con- versing with him ; for they two were very great one with another, and did indeed know more how things would go with Mansoul than did all the townsmen besides. The lord secre- tary also loved the Captain Credence dearly ; yea, many a good bit was sent him from my lord’s table; also he might have a show of countenance when the rest of Mansoul lay under the clouds. So after some time for con- verse was spent the captain betook himself to his chambers to rest. But it was not long after but my lord did send for the captain again; so the captain came to him, and they greeted one another with usual salutations. Then said the captain to the lord secretary, What hath my lord to say to his servant? So the lord secretary took him and had him aside, and after a sign or two of more favour he said, I have made thee the Lord’s lieutenant overall the forces in Mansoul; so that from this day forward all men in Mansoul shall be at thy word, and thou shalt be he that shal' lead in and that shall lead out Mansoul. Thou shalt therefore manage, according to thy place, the war for thy Prince and for the town of Mansoul against the force and power of Diabolus, and at thy command shall the rest of the captains be. Now the townsmen began to perceive what 'interest the captain had both with the court and also with the lord secretary in Mansoul ; for no man before could so speed when sent, nor bring such good news from Emmanuel as he. Wherefore what do they, after some lamentation that they made no more use of him in their distresses, but send by their sub- ordinate preacher to the lord secretary to de- sire him that all that ever they were and had might be put under the government, care, custody and conduct of Captain Credence. So their preacher went and did his errand, and received this answer from the mouth of his lord: That Captain Credence should be the great doer in all the King’s army against the King’s enemies, and also for the welfare of Mansoul. So he bowed to the groom and thanked his lordship, and returned and told his news to the townsfolk. But all this was done with all imaginable secresy, because the foes had yet great strength in the town. But to return to our story again : When Diabolus saw himself thus boldly confronted by the lord mayor, and perceived the stoutness of Mr. Godly-fear, he fell into a rage and forthwith called a council of war, that he might be revenged on Mansoul. So all the princes of the pit came together, and old In- credulity at the head of them, with all the cap- tains of his army. So they consulted what to do. Now the effect and conclusion of the council that day was, how they might take the castle, because they could not conclude themselves masters of the town' so long as that was in the possession of their enemies. So THE HOLY WAR. 463 one advised this way, and another advised that; but when they could not agree in their verdict, Apollyon, the president of the council, stood up, and thus lie began: My brotherhood, quoth he, I have two things to propound unto you, and my first is this: Let us withdraw ourselves from the town into the plain again, for our presence here will do us no good, be- cause the castle is yet in our enemies’ hands; nor is it possible that we should take that so long as so many brave captains are in it, and that this bold fellow, Godly-fear, is made the keeper of the gates of it. Now when we have withdrawn ourselves into the plain, they of their own accord will be glad of some little ease, and it may be of their own accord they again may begin to be remiss; and even their so being will give them a bigger blow than we can possibly give them ourselves. But if that should fail, our going forth of the town may draw the captains out after us, and you know what it cost them when we fought them in the field before. Besides, can we but draw them out into the field, we may lay an ambush be- hind the town, which shall, when they are come forth abroad, rush in and take posses- sion of the castle. But Beelzebub stood up and replied, saying, It is impossible to draw them all off' from the castle; some, you may be sure, will lie there to keep that; wherefore it will be but in vain thus to attempt unless we were sure that they will all come out. He therefore concluded that what was done must be done by some other means. And the most likely means that the greatest of their heads could invent was that which Apollyon had advised before — to wit, to get the townsmen again to sin. For, said he, it is not our being in the town, nor in the field, nor our fighting, nor our killing of their men, that can make us the masters of Mansoul ; for so long as one in the town is able to lift up his finger against us, Emmanuel will take their parts ; and if he shall take their parts, we know what time of day it will be with us. Wherefore, for my part, quoth he, there is in my judgment no way to bring them into bondage to us like inventing a way to make them sin. Had we, said lie, left all our Doubters at home, we had done as well as we have done now, unless we could have made them the masters and governors of the castle ; for Doubters at a distance are but like objec- tions repelled with arguments. Indeed, can we but get them into the hold and make them possessors of that, the day will be our own. Let us therefore withdraw ourselves into the plain, (not expecting that the captains in Man- soul should follow us,) but yet, I say, let us do this, and before we so do let us advise again with our trusty Diabolonians that are yet in their holds of Mansoul, and set them to work to betray the town to us ; for they indeed must do it or it will be left undone for ever. By these sayings of Beelzebub (for I think it was lie that gave his counsel) the whole conclave was forced to be of his opinion — to wit, that the way to get the castle was to get the town to sin. Then they fell to inventing by what means to do this thing. Then Lucifer stood up and said, The coun- sel of Beelzebub is pertinent ; now the way to bring this to pass, in mine opinion, is this: Let us withdraw our force from the town of Mansoul ; let us do this, and let us terrify them no more, either with summons or threats, or with the noise of our drum, or any other awa- kening means. Only let us lie in the field at a distance, and be as if we regarded them not, (for frights, I see, do but awaken them and make them stand more to their arms.) I have also another stratagem in my head. You know Mansoul is a market-town, and a town that de- lights in commerce; what therefore if some of our Diabolonians shall feign themselves far- countrymen, and shall go out and bring to the market of Mansoul some of our wares to sell ? and what matter at what rates they sell their wares, though it be but for half the worth? Now, let 'those that thus shall trade in their market be those that are witty and true to us, and I will lay my crown to pawn it will do. There are two that are come to my thoughts already that I think will be arch at this work, and they are Mr. Penny-wise-pound-foolish, and Mr. Get-i’-tlie-hundred-and-lose-i’-the- shire; nor is this man with the long name at all inferior to the other. What also if you join with them Mr. Sweet-world and Mr. Px-es- ent-good? — they are men that are civil and cunning, but our true friends and helpers. Let these, with as many more, engage in this business for us, and let Mansoul be taken up in much business, and let them grow full and rich, and this is the way to get ground of them : remember ye not that thus we prevailed upon Laodicea, and how many at present we do hold in this snare? Now, when they begin to grow full they will forget their misery ; and if we shall not affright them they may happen to 464 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. fall asleep, and so be got to neglect tbeir town- watch, their castle-watch, as well as their watch at the gates. Yea, may we not by this means so cumber Mansoul with abundance that they shall be forced to make of their castle a warehouse in- stead of a garrison fortified against us and a receptacle for men of war? Thus, if we get our goods and commodities thither, I reckon that the castle is more than half ours. Be- sides, could we so order it that it should be filled with such kind of wares, then if we made a sudden assault upon them it would be hard for the captains to take shelter there. Do you know that of the parable, “ The deceitfulness of riches choke the world ; ” and again, “ When the heart is overcharged with surfeiting and drunkenness and the cares of this life, all mis- chief comes upon them at unawares.” Furthermore, my lords, quoth he, you very well know that it is not easy for a people to be filled with our things and not to have some of our Diabolonians as retainers to their houses and services. Where is there a Mansoulian that is full of this world that has not for his servant and waiting-man Mr. Profuse, or Mr. Prodigality, or some other of our Diabolonian gang, as Mr. Voluptuous, Mr. Pragmatical, Mr. Ostentation, or the like? Now these can take the castle of Mansoul, or blow it up, or make it unfit for a garrison for Emmanuel; and any of these will do. Yea, these, for aught I know, may do it for us sooner than an army of twenty thousand men. Wherefore, to end as I began, my advice is, that we quietly withdraw ourselves, not offering any further force or forcible attempts upon the castle, at least at this time, and let us set on foot our new project, and let us see if that will not make them destroy themselves. This advice was highly applauded by them all, and was accounted the very masterpiece of hell : to wit, to choke Mansoul with a ful- ness of this world, and to surfeit her heart with the good things thereof. But see how things meet together! Just as this Diabolonian council was broken up, Captain Credence re- ceived a letter from Emmanuel, the contents of which were these : That upon the third day he would meet him in the field in the plains about Mansoul. Meet me in field ! quoth the captain ; what meaneth my Lord by this? I know not what he meaneth by meeting of me in the field. So he took the note in his hand and did carry it to my lord secretary to ask his thoughts thereupon, (for my lord was a seer in all matters concerning the King and also for the good and comfort of the town of Mansoul.) So he showed my lord the note, and desired his opinion thereof. For my part, quoth Cap- tain Credence, I know not the meaning thereof* So my lord did take and read it, and after a little pause he said, “ The Diabolonians have had against Mansoul a great consultation to- day ; they have, I say, this day been contriving the utter ruin of the town ; and the result of the council is, to set Mansoul into such a way which, if taken, will surely make her destroy herself. And to this end they are making ready for their own departure out of the town, intending to betake themselves to the field again, and there to lie till they shall see whether this their project will take or no. But be thou ready with the men of thy Lord, for on the third day they will be in the plain, there to fall upon the Diabolonians ; for the Prince will by that time be in the field, yea, by that it is break of day, sun-rising, or before, and that with a mighty force against them. So he shall be before them, and thou shalt be behind them, and betwixt you both their army shall be destroyed.” When Captain Credence heard this, away he goes to the rest of the captains, and tells them what a note he had awhile since received from the hand of Emmanuel; and, said he, that which was dark therein, has my lord the lord secretary expounded unto me. He told them, moreover, what by himself and by them must be done to answer the mind of their Lord. Then were the captains glad; and Captain Credence commanded that all the King’s trumpeters should ascend to the battle- ments of the castle, and there, in the audience of Diabolus and of the whole town of Mansoul, make the best music that heart could invent. Then the trumpeters did as they were com- manded. They got themselves up to the top of the castle, and thus they began to sound. Then did Diabolus start, and said, “What can be the meaning of this ? They neither sound boot-and-saddle, nor horse-and-away, nor a charge. What do these madmen mean, that they should be so merry and glad?” Then answered him one of themselves, and said, “ This is for joy that their Prince Emmanuel is come to relieve the town of Mansoul- — that to this end he is at the head of an army, and that this relief is near.” The men of Mansoul were also greatly con- cerned at this melodious charm of the trump- ets : they said, yea, they answered one another, THE HOLY WAR. 465 saying, “This can bo no harm to us; surely this can bo no harm to us.” Then said the Diabolonians, “What had wo best to do?” And it was answered it was best to quit the town ; and that, said one, ye may do so in pur- suance of your last council, and by so doing also bo better able to give the enemy battle should an army from without come upon us. So on the second day they withdrew themselves from Mansoul and abode in the plains without, but they encamped themselves before Eye-gate, in what terrene and terrible manner they could. The reason why they could not abide in the town (besides the reasons that were de- bated in the last conclave) was, for that they were not possessed of the stronghold, and be- cause, said they, we shall have more conve- nience to fight, and also to fly, if need be, when we are encamped in the open plains. Besides, the town would have been a pit for them, rather than a place of defence, had the Prince come up and enclosed them fast therein. Therefore they betook themselves to the field, that they might also be out of the reach of the slings, by which they were much annoyed all the while that they were in the town. Well, the time that the captains were to fall upon the Diabolonians being come, they eagerly prepared themselves for action ; for Captain Credence having told the captains over night that they should meet their Prince in the field to-morrow was like oil to a flaming fire, for of a long time they had been at a distance ; they therefore were for this the more earnest and desirous of the work. So, as I said, the hour being come, Captain Credence, with the rest of the men of war, drew out their forces before it was day by the sally-port of the town. And being all ready, Captain Credence went up to the head of the army and gave to the rest of the captains the word, and they to their under- officers and soldiers; the word was, “The sword of the Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!” which is in the Man- soulian tongue, “ The word of God and faith.” Then the captains fell on, and began roundly to front and flank and rear Diabolus’s camp. Now they left Captain Experience in the town, because he was yet ill of his Wounds which the Diabolonians had given him in the last, fight. But when he perceived that the captains were at it, what does he but, calling for his crutches with haste, gets up, and away he goes to the battle, saying, “Shall I lie here while my brethren are in the fight, and when Emmanuel the Prince will show himself in 30 the field to his servants?” But when the enemy saw the man come with his crutches, they were daunted yet the more; for, thought they, what spirit has possessed these Mansoulians that they fight us upon their crutches! Well, the captains, as I said, fell on, and did bravely handle their weapons, still crying out and shouting as they laid on blows, “ The sword of the Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Cap- tain Credence !” Now when Diabolus saw that the captains were come out, and that so valiantly they sur- rounded his men, he concluded that for the present nothing from them was to be looked for but blows and the dints of their two-edged swords. Wherefore he also falls upon the Prince’s army with all his deadly force. So the battle was joined. Now, who was it that at first Diabolus met with in the fight but Captain Credence on the one hand, and Lord Will-be- will on the other? Now, Will-be-will’s blows were like the blows of a giant; for that man had a strong arm, and he fell in upon the Election-doubters, for they were the lifeguard of Diabolus, and he kept them in play a good while, cutting and battering shrewdly. Now, when Captain Credence saw my lord engaged, he did stoutly fall on, on the other hand, upon the same company also ; so they put them to great disorder. Now Captain Good-hope had engaged the Vocation-doubters, and they were sturdy men, but the captain was a valiant man ; Captain Experience did also send him some aid, so he made the Vocation-doubters to retreat. The rest of the armies were hotly engaged, and that on every side, and the Diabolonians did fight stoutly. Then did my lord secretary command that the slings from the castle should be played, and his men could throw stones at an hair’s breadth. But after a while those that were made to fly before the captains of the Prince did begin to rally again, and they came up stoutly upon the rear of the Prince’s army; wherefore the Prince’s army began to faint, but remembering that they should see the face of their Prince by aud by, they took courage, and a very fierce battle was fought. Then shouted the captains, saying, “The sword of the Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Credence!” and with that Diabolus gave back, thinking that more aid had been come. But no Emmanuel had as yet appeared. Moreover, the battle did hang in doubt, and they made a little retreat on both sides. Now in the time of respite Captain 466 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Credence bravely encouraged bis men to stand to it, and Diabolus did tbe like as well as be could. But Captain Credence made a brave speech to his soldiers, tbe contents whereof here follow : Gentlemen soldiers and my brethren in this design, it rejoiceth me much to see in the field foi our Prince this day so stout and so valiant an army and such faithful lovers of Mansoul. You have hitherto, as hath become you, shown yourselves men of truth and courage against the Diabolonian forces, so that for all their boasts they have not yet much cause to boast of their gettings. Now, take to yourselves your wonted courage, and show yourselves men even this once only, for in a few minutes after the next engagement this time you shall see your Prince show himself in the field ; for we must make this second assault upon this ty- rant Diabolus, and then Emmanuel comes. No sooner had the captain made this speech to his soldiers but one Mr. Speedy came post to the captain from the Prince to tell him that Emmanuel was at hand. This news, when the captain had received, he communicated to the other field-officers, and they again to their soldiers and men of war. Wherefore, like men raised from the dead, so the captains and their men arose, made up to the enemy, and cried as before, “The sword of the Prince Emmanuel and the shield of Captain Cre- dence!” The Diabolonians also bestirred themselves, and made resistance as well as they could ; but in this last engagement the Diabolonians lost their courage, and many of the Doubters fell down dead to the ground. Now when they had been in the heat of battle about an hour more, Captain Credence lift up his eyes and saw and beheld Emmanuel coming ; and he came-with colours flying, trumpets sound- ing, and the feet of his men scarce touched the ground, they hasted with that celerity towards the captains that were engaged. Then Cap- tain Credence wheeled with his men to the town-ward and gave to Diabolus the field. So Emmanuel came ujron him on the one side, and the enemy’s place was betwixt them both ; then again they fell to it afresh, and after a little while Emmanuel and Captain Credence met, still trampling down the slain as they came. But when the captains saw that the Prince was come, and that he fell upon the Diabolo- nians on the other side, and that Captain Cre- dence and his Highness had got them up be- twixt them, they shouted, (they so shouted that the ground rent again,) saying, “The sword of Emmanuel and the shield of Cap- tain Credence !” Now when Diabolus saw that he and his forces were so hard beset by the Prince and his princely army, what doth he and the lords ■ of the pit that were with him but make their escape, and forsake their army and leave them to fall by the hand of Emmanuel and of his noble Captain Cre- dence ? So they fell • all down slain before them, before the Prince and before his royal army; there was not left so much as one Doubter alive; they lay spread upon the ground dead men, as one would spread dung upon the land. When the battle was over all things came into order in the camp ; then the captains and elders of Mansoul came together to salute Emmanuel while without the corporation ; so they saluted him and welcomed him, and that with a thousand welcomes, for that he was come to the borders of Mansoul again ; so he smiled upon them and said, Peace be to you ! Then they addressed themselves to go to the town ; they went then to go up to Mansoul— they, the Prince, and all the new forces that now he had brought with him to the war. Also all the gates of the town were set open for his reception, so glad were they of his blessed return. And this was the manner and order of going into Mansoul : 1. As I said, all the gates of the town were set open, yea, the gates of the castle also; the elders too of the town of Mansoul placed them- selves at the gates of the town to salute him at his entrance thither; and so they did, for as he drew near and approached towards the gates, they said, “ Lift up your heads, .0 ye gates, and be ye lift up, ve everlasting doors, and the King of glory shall come in.” And they answered again, “Who is the King of glory?” And they made return to themselves, “The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, 0 ye gates, even lift them up, ye everlasting doors,” &c. 2. It was ordered also by those of Mansoul that all the way from the town-gates to those of the castle his blessed Majesty should be en- tertained with the song by them that had the best skill in music in all the town of Mansoul; then did the elders and the rest of the men of Mansoul- answer one another as Emmanuel entered the town, till he came at the castle- gates, with songs and sound of trumpets, say- ing, They have seen thy goings, O God, even TILE HOLY WAR. 4G7 the goings of my God, my King, in the sanc- tuary. So the singers went before, the players on instruments followed after, and among them were the damsels playing on timbrels. 8. Then the captains, (for I would speak a word of them,) in their order, waited on the Prince as he entered into the gates of Mansoul. Captain Credence went before, and Captain Good-hope with him; Captain Charity came behind with other of his companions, and Captain Patience followed after all; and the rest of the captains, some on the right hand and some on the left, accompanied Emmanuel into Mansoul. And all the while the colours were displayed, the trumpets sounded, and continual shoutings were among the soldiers. The Prince himself rode into the town in his armour, which was all of beaten gold, and in his chariot; the pillars of it were of silver, the bottom thereof of gold, the covering of it was of purple, the midst thereof being paved with love for the daughters of the town of Mansoul. 4. When the Prince was come to the en- trance of Mansoul he found all the streets strewed with lilies and flowers, curiously decked with boughs and branches from the green trees that stood round about the town. Every door also was filled with persons who had adorned every one their fore-part against their house with something of variety and singular excellency to entertain him withal as he passed in the streets; they also themselves, as Emmanuel passed by, did welcome him with shouts and acclamations of joy, saying, Blessed be the Prince that cometh in the name of his Father Shaddai! 5. At the castle-gates the elders of Man- soul — to wit, the lord mayor, the Lord Will- be-will, the subordinate preacher, Mr.' Know- ledge, and Mr. Mind, with other of the gentry of the place — saluted Emmanuel again. They bowed before him, they kissed the dust of his feet, they thanked, they blessed, and praised his Higlmess for not taking advantage against them for their sins, but rather had pity upon them in their misery, and returned to them with mercies and to build up their Mansoul for ever. Thus was he had up straightway to the castle — for that was the royal palace and the place where his honour was to dwell — which was ready prepared for his Highness by the presence of the lord secretary and the work of Captain Credence. So he entered in. 6. Then the people and commonalty of the town of Mansoul came tn him into the castle to mourn, and to weep, and to lament for their wickedness, by which they had forced him out of the town. So they, when they were come, bowed themselves to the ground seven times: they also wept, they wept aloud, and asked forgiveness of the Prince, and prayed that he would again, as-of old, confirm his love to Mansoul. To the which the great Prince replied, Weep not, but go your way, eat the fat and drink the sweet, and send portions to them for whom naught is prepared, for the joy of your Lord is your strength. I am returned to Mansoul with mercies, and my name shall be set up, exalted and magnified by it. He also took these inhabitants and kissed them, and laid them to his bosom. Moreover, he gave to the elders of Mansoul and to each town officer a chain of gold and a signet. He also sent to their wives ear-rings, and jewels, and bracelets, and other things. He also bestowed upon the true-born children of Mansoul many precious things. When Emmanuel the Prince had done all these things for the famous town of Mansoul, then he said unto them, first, Wash your gar- ments, then put on your ornaments, and then come to me into the castle of Mansoul. So they went to the fountain that was open for Judah and Jerusalem to wash in; and there they washed and there they made their gar- ments white, and came again to the Prince into the castle, and thus they stood before him. And now there was music and dancing throughout the whole town of Mansoul, and that because their Prince had again granted to them his presence and the light of his counte- nance; the bells also did ring, and the sun shone comfortably upon them for a great while together. The town of Mansoul did also now more thoroughly seek the destruction and ruin of all remaining Diabolonians that abode in the walls and the dens that they had in the town of Mansoul; for there was of them that had to this day escaped with life and limb from the hands of their oppressors in the famous town of Mansoul. But the Lord Will-be-will was a greater terror to them now than ever he had been be- fore, forasmuch as his heart was yet more fully bent to seek, contrive, and pursue them to death; he pursued them night and day, and did put them now to sore distress, as will after- wards appear. After things were thus far put into order in 468 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the famous town of Mansoul, care was taken and orders given by the blessed Prince Em- manuel that the townsmen should, without further delay, appoint some to go forth into the plain to bury the dead that were there — the dead that fell by the sword of Emmanuel and by the shield of the Captain Credence — lest the fumes and ill savours that would arise from them might infect the air, and so annoy the famous town of Mansoul. This also was a reason of this order — to wit, that as much as in Mansoul lay they might cut oif the name, and being, and remembrance of those enemies from the thought of the famous town of Man- soul and its inhabitants. So order was given out by the lord mayor, that wise and trusty friend of the town of Mansoul, that persons should be employed about this necessary business ; and Mr. Godly- fear and one Mr. Upright were to be overseers about this matter ; so persons were put under them to work in the fields and to bury the slain that lay dead in the plains. And these were their places of employment : some were to make the graves, some to bury the dead, and some were to go to and fro in the plains, and also round about the borders of Mansoul, to see if a skull, or a bone, or a piece of a bone of a Doubter was yet to be found above ground anywhere near the corporation ; and if any were found, it was ordered that the searchers that searched should set up a mark thereby and a sign, that those that were appointed to bury them might find it and bury it out of sight, that the name and remembrance of a Diabolonian Doubter might be blotted out from under heaven, and that the children, and they that were to be born in Mansoul, might not know (if possible) what a skull, what a bone, or a piece of a bone of a Doubter, was. So the buriers and those that were appointed for that purpose did as they were commanded; they buried the Doubters, and all the skulls, and bones, and pieces of bones of Doubters wherever they found them, and so they cleansed the plains. Now also Mr. God’s-peace took up his commission and acted again as in former days. Thus they buried in the plains about Man- soul, the Election-doubters, the Vocation- doubters, the Grace-doubters, the Persever- ance-doubters, the Resurrection-doubters, the Salvation-doubters and the Glory-doubters, whose captains were Captain Rage, Captain Cl del, Captain Damnation, Captain Insatiable, Captain Brimstone, Captain Torment, Captain No-ease, Captain Sepulchre, and Captain Past- hope ; and old Incredulity was under Diabolus their general. There were also seven heads of their army, and they were the Lord Beelze- bub, the Lord Lucifer, the Lord Legion, the Lord Apollyon, the Lord Python, the Lord Cerberus, and the Lord Belial. But the princes and the captains, with old Incredulity their general, did all of them make their escape ; so their men fell down slain by the power of the Prince’s forces and by- the hands of the men of the town of Mansoul. They also were buried as before related, to the exceeding great joy of the now famous town of Mansoul. They that buried them buried also with them their arms, which were cruel instruments of death, (their weapons were arrows, darts, mauls, firebrands, and the like;) they buried also their armour, their colours, banners, with the standard of Diabolus, and what else soever they could find that did but smell of a Diab- olonian Doubter. Now, when the tyrant had arrived at Hell- gate-hill with his old friend Incredulity, they immediately descended the den, and having there with their fellows for a while condoled their misfortunes and the great loss that they sustained against the town of Mansoul, they fell at length into a passion, and revenged they would be for the loss that they sustained before the town of Mansoul ; wherefore they presently called a council to contrive yet further what was to be done against the famous town of Mansoul, for their yawning paunches could not wait to see the result of their Lord Luci- fer’s and their Lord Apollyon’s counsel that they had given before, (for their raging gorge thought every day even as long as a short for ever until they were filled with the body and soul, with the flesh and bones, and with all the delicacies of Mansoul.) They therefore re- solved to make another attempt upon the town of Mansoul, and that by an army mixed and made up partly of Doubters and partly of Blood-men. A more particular account now take of both. The Doubters are such as have their name from their nature, as well as from the land and kingdom where they are born ; their nature is to put a question upon every one of the truths of Emmanuel, and their country is called the land of Doubting ; and fhat land lieth off and farthest remote to the north, between the land of Darkness and that called the Valley of the Shadow of Death. For though the land of Darkness and that called the Valley of the THE HOLY WAR. 4 09 Shadow of Death bo sometimes called as if they were one and the selfsame place, yet in- deed they are two, lying but a little way asunder, and the land of Doubting points in and lieth between them. This is the land of Doubting, and these that came with Diabolus to ruin the town of Mansoul are the natives of that country. The Blood-men arc a people that have their name derived from the malignity of their nature, and from the fury that is in them to execute it upon the town of Mansoul ; their land lieth under the Dog-star, and by that they are governed as to their intellectuals. The name of their country is the Province of Loath-good ; the remote parts of it are far distant from the land of Doubting, yet they do both butt and bound upon the hill called Hell- gate-hill. These people are always in league with the Doubters, for they jointly do make question of the faith and fidelity of the men of the town of Mansoul, and so are both alike qualified for the service of their prince. Now of these two countries did Diabolus, by the beating of his drum, raise another army against the town of Mansoul, of five aud twenty thousand strong. There were ten thousand Doubters and fifteen thousand Blood- men, and they were put under several captains for the war; and old Incredulity was again made general of the army. As for the Doubters, their captains were five of the seven that were heads of the last Diab- olonian army; and these are their names: Captain Beelzebub, Captain Lucifer, Captain Apollyon, Captain Legion, and Captain Cer- berus ; and the captains that they had before were some of them made lieutenants and some ensigns of the army. But Diabolus did not count that in this ex- pedition of his these Doubters would prove his principal men, for their manhood had been tried before, also the Mansoulians had put them to the worst; only he did bring them to multiply a number, and to help, if need was, at a pinch ; but his trust he put in the Blood-men, for that they were all rugged villains, and he knew that they had done feats heretofore. As for the Blood-men, they also were under command, and the names of their captains were— Captain Cain, Captain Nimrod, Cap- tain Ishmael, Captain Esau, Captain Saul, Captain Absalom, Captain Judas, and Cap- tain Pope. 1. Captain Cain was over two bands: to wit, the zealous and the angry Blood-men ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was the murdering club. 2. Captain Nimrod was captain over two bands: to wit, the tyrannical and encroaching Blood-men ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was the gieat bloodhound. 3. Captain Ishmael was captain over two bands: to wit, the mocking and scornful Blood-men ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was one mocking at Abraham’s Isaac. 4. Captain Esau was captain over two bands: to wit, the Blood-men that grudged that another should have the blessing; also over the Bloodonen that are for executing their private revenge upon others ; his stand- ard-bearer bore the red colours, and his es- cutcheon was one privately lurking to murder Jacob. 5. Captain Saul was captain over two bands : to wit, the groundlessly jealous and the devilishly furious Blood-men; his stand- ard-bearer bore the red colours, and his es- cutcheon was three bloody darts cast at harm- less David. 6. Captain Absalom was captain over two bands : to wit, over the Blood-men that will kill a father or a friend for the glory of this world ; also over those Blood-men that will hold one fair in hand with words till they shall have pierced him with their swords ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was the sou pursuing the father's blood. 7. Captain Judas was over two bands : to wit, the Blood-men that will sell a man’s life for money, and those also that will betray their friend with a kiss ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was thirty pieces of silver and the halter. 8. Captain Pope was captain over one band, for all these spirits are joined in one under him ; his standard-bearer bore the red colours, and his escutcheon was the stake, the flame, and the good man in it. Now the reason why Diabolus did so soon rally another force after he had been beaten out of the field was, for that he put mighty confidence in his army of Blood-men ; for he put a great deal more trust in them than he did before in his army of Doubter's, though they had also often done great service for him in the strengthening of him in his kingdom ; but these Blood-men he had often proved. 170 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. and their sword did seldom return empty. Besides, he knew that these, like mastiffs, would fasten upon any — upon father, mother, brother, sister, prince, or governor ; yea, upon the Prince of princes. And that which en- couraged him the more was for that they did once force Emmanuel out of the kingdom of Universe; and why, thought he, may they not also drive him from the town of Mansoul ? So this army of five-and-twenty thousand strong was by their general, the great Lord Incredulity, led up against the town of Man- soul. Now Mr. Pry-well, the scoutmaster-gen- eral, did himself go out to spy, and he did bring Mansoul tidings of their coming. Where- fore they shut up their gates, and put them- selves in a posture of defence against these new Diabolonians that came up against the town. So Diabolus brought up his army and be- leaguered the town of Mansoul ; the Doubters were placed about Feel-gate, and the Blood- men set down before Eye-gate and Ear-gate. Now when this army had thus encamped themselves, Incredulity, in the name of Diab- olus, his own name, and in the name of the Blood-men and the rest that were with him, sent a summons as hot as a red-hot iron to Mansoul to yield to their demands, threaten- ing that if they still stood it out against them they would presently burn down Mansoul with fire. For you must know that as for the Blood- men, they were not so much that Mansoul should be surrendered, as that Mansoul should be destroyed and cut off out of the land of the living. True, they sent to them to surrender, but should they so do, that would not stanch or quench the thirsts of these men ; they must have blood, the blood of Mansoul, else they die; and it is from hence that they have their name. Wherefore these Blood-men he re- served till now, that they might, when all his engines proved ineffectual, as his last and sure card, be played against the town of Mansoul. Now when the townsmen had received this red-hot summons, it begat in them at present some changing and interchanging of thoughts ; but they jointly agreed in less than half an hour to carry the summons to the Prince, the which they did when they had writ at the bottom of it, “Lord, save Mansoul from bloody men !” So he took it, and looked upon it and con- sidered it, and took notice also of that short petition that the men of Mansoul had written at the bottom of it ; and called to him the noble Captain Credence, and bid him go and take Captain Patience with him, and go and take care of that side of Mansoul that was be- leaguered by the Blood-men. So they went and did as they were commanded ; the Cap- tain Credence went and took Captain Patience, and they both secured that side of Mansoul that was besieged by the Bloocl-men. Then he commanded that Captain Good- hope, and Captain Charity, and my Lord Will-be-will should take charge of the other side of the town ; and I, said the Prince, will set my standard upon the battlements of jjour castle, and do you three watch against the Doubters. This done, he again commanded that the brave captain, the Captain Experi- ence, should draw up his men in the market- place, and that there he should exercise them day by day before the peojde of the town of Mansoul. Now this siege was long, and many a fierce attempt did the enemy, especially those called Blood-men, make upon the town of Mansoul ; and many a shrewd brush did some of the townsmen meet with from them, espe- cially Captain Self-denial, who, I should have told you before, was commanded to take the care of Ear-gate and Eye-gate now against the Blood-men. This Captain Self-denial was a young man, but stout, and a townsman in Mansoul, as Captain Experience also was. And Emmanuel, at his second return to Mansoul, made him a captain over a thousand of the Mansoulians for the good of the corporation. This captain therefore, being an hardy man and a man of great courage, and willing to venture himself for the good of the town of Mansoul, would now and then sally out upon the Blood-men and give them many notable alarms, and entered several brisk skirmishes with them, and also did some execution upon them ; but you must think that this could not so easily be done but he must meet with brushes himself, for he carried several of their marks in his face, yea, and some in some other parts of his body. So after some time spent for the trial of the> faith, and hope, and love of the town of Man- soul, the Prince Emmanuel upon a day calls his captains and men of war together and di- vides them into two companies ; this done, he commands them at a time appointed, and that in the morning very early, to sally out upon the enemy, saying, “Let half of you fall upon the Doubters, and half of you fall upon the THE HOLY WAR. 471 Blood-men. Those of you that go out against the Doubters kill and slay and cause to perish so many of them as by any means you can lay hands on ; but for you that go out against the Blood-men, slay them not, but take them alive.” So at the time appointed, betimes in the morning, the captains went out as they were commanded against the enemies: Captain Good-hope, Captain Charity, and those that were joined with them, as Captain Innocent and Captain Experience, went out against the Doubters; and Captain Credence and Captain Patience, with Captain Self-denial and the rest that were to join with them, went out against the Blood-men. Now those that went out against the Doubt- ers drew up into a body before the plain, and marched on to bid them battle; but the Doubt- ers, remembering their last success, made a re- treat, not daring to stand the shock, but fled from the Prince’s men ; wherefore they pursued them, and in their pursuit slew many, but they could not catch them all. Now those that es- caped went, some of them home, and the rest by fives, nines, and seventeens, like wanderers, went straggling up and down the country, where they upon the barbarous people showed and exercised many of their Diabolonian ac- tions; nor did these people rise up in arms against them, but suffered themselves to be en- slaved by them. They would also after this show themselves in companies before the town of Mansoul, but never to abide it ; for if Cap- tain Credence, Captain Good-hope, or Captain Experience did but show themselves, they fled. Those that went out against the Blood-men did as they were commanded ; they forbore to slay any, but sought to compass them about. But the Blood-men, when they saw that no Emmanuel was in the field, concluded also that no Emmanuel was in Mansoul ; wherefore, they looking upon what the captains did to be, as they call it, a fruit of the extravagancy of their wild and foolish fancies, rather despised them than feared them ; but the captains, minding their business, at last did compass them around : they also that had routed the Doubters came in amain to their aid ; so, in fine,’ after some little struggling — for the Blood-men also would have run for it, only now it was too late (for though they are mis- chievous and cruel where they can overcome, yet all Blood-men are chicken-hearted men when they once come to see themselves matched and equalled,) — so the captains toot them and brought them to the Prince. Now when they were taken, had before the Prince, and examined, he found them to be of three several counties, though they all came of one land. 1. One sort of them came out of Blindman- shire, and they were such as did ignorantly what they did. 2. Another sort of them came out of Blind- zealshire, and they did superstitiously what they did. 3. The third sort of them came out of the town of Malice, in the county of Envy, and they did what they did out of spite and im- placableness. For the first of these — to wit, they that came out of Blindmanshire — when they saw where they were and against whom they had fought, they trembled and cried as they stood before him ; and as many of these as asked him mercy, he touched their lips with his golden sceptre. They that came out of Blindzealsliire, they did not as their fellows did ; for they pleaded that they had a right to do what they did, be- cause Mansoul was a town whose laws and cus- toms were diverse from all that dwelt there- about ; very few of these could be brought to see their evil, but those that did and asked mercy, they also obtained favour. Now they that came out of the town of Malice, that is in the county of Envy, they neither wept, nor disputed, nor repented, but stood gnawing of their tongues before him for anguish and madness because they could not have their will upon Mansoul. Now these last, with all those of the other two sorts that did not unfeignedly ask pardon for their faults, those he made to enter into sufficient bond to answer for what they had done against Man- soul and against her King, at the great and general assizes to be liolden for our Lord the King, where he himself should appoint, for the country and kingdom of Universe. So they became bound, each man for him- self, to come in when called upon, to answer before our Lord the King for what they had done, as before. And thus much concerning this second army that was sent by Diabolus to overthrow' Man- soul. But there were three of those that came from the land of Doubting who, after they had wandered and ranged the country awhile and perceived that they had escaped, were 472 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. so hardy as to thrust themselves, knowing that yet there were in the town some who took part with Diabolus — I say, they were so hardy as to thrust themselves into Mansoul. (Three, did I say? I think there were four.) Now to whose house should these Doubters go but to the house of an old Diabolonian in Mansoul, whose name was Evil-questioning ; a very great enemy he was to Mansoul, and a great doer among Diabolonians there. Well, to this Evil-questioning’s house, as was said, did these Diabolonians come, (you may be sure that they had directions how to find the way thither;) so he made them welcome, pitied their misfortune, and succored them with the best that he had in his house. Now, after a little acquaintance, (and it was hot long be- fore they had that,) this old Evil-questioning asked the Doubters if they were all of a town ; he knew that they were all of one kingdom. And they answered, No, nor of one shire, neither ; for I, said one, am an Election-doubt- er ; I, said another, am a Vocation-doubter ; then said the third, I am a Salvation-doubter ; and the fourth said he was a Grace-doubter. Well, quoth the old gentleman, be of what shire you will, I am persuaded that you are town-boys ; you have the very length of my foot, are one with my heart, and shall be welcome to me. So they thanked him, and were glad that they had found themselves an harbour in Mansoul. Then said Evil-questioning to them, How many of your company might there be that came with you to the siege of Mansoul ? And they answered, There were but ten thousand Doubters in all, for the rest of the army con- sisted of fifteen thousand Blood-men. These Blood-men, quoth they, border upon our coun- try, but, poor men ! as we hear they were every oue taken by Emmanuel’s forces. Ten thou- sand ! quoth the old gentleman : I’ll promise you that is a round company. But how came it to pass, since you were so mighty a number, that you fainted and durst not fight your foes? Our general, said they, was the first man that did run for it. Pray, quoth their landlord, who was that your cowardly general? Pie was once the lord mayor of Mansoul, said they. But pray call him not a cowardly general, for whether any from the east to the west had done more service for our Prince Diabolus than has my IiOrd Incredulity will be a hard question for you to answer. But had they catclied him, they would for certain have hanged him, and we promise you hanging is but a bad business. Then said the old gentleman, I would that all the ten thousand Doubters were now well armed in Mansoul, and myself at the head of them : I would see what I could do. Ay, said they, that would be well if we could see that ; but wishes, alas ! what are they ? and these words were spoken aloud. Well, said old Evil-ques- tioning, take heed that you talk not too loud : you must be squat and close, and must take care of yourselves while you are here, or I’ll assure you you will be snapped. Why? quoth the Doubters. Why ! quoth the old gentleman. Why, be- cause both the Prince and the lord secretary, and their captains and soldiers, are all at pres- ent in town ; yea, the town is as full of them as ever it can hold. And besides, there is one whose name is Will-be-will, a most cruel ene- my of ours, and him the Prince has made keeper of the gates, and has commanded him that with all the diligence he can he should look for, search out, and destroy all and all manner of Diabolonians. And if he lighted upon you, down you go, though your heads were made of gold. And now to see how it happened. One of the Lord Will-be-will’s faithful soldiers, whose name was Mr. Diligence, stood all this while listening under old Evil-questioning’s eaves, and heard all the talk that had been betwixt him and the Doubters that he entertained under his roof. The soldier was a man that my lord had much confidence in, and that he loved dearly, and that both because he was a man of cour- age and also a man that was unwearied in seek- ing after Diabolonians to apprehend them. Now this man, as I told you, heard all the talk that was betwixt old Evil-questioning and these Diabolonians; wherefore what does he but goes to his lord and tells him what he had heard? And sayest thou so, my trusty? quoth my lord. Ay, quoth Diligence, that I do, and if your lordship will be pleased to go with me, you shall find it as I have said. And are they there ? quoth my lord : I know Evil-question- ing well, for he and I were great in the time of our apostacy. But I know not now where he dwells. But I do, said this man ; and if your lordship will go, I will lead you the way into his den. Go ! quoth my lord ; that I will. Come, my Diligence, let us go find them out. So my lord and his man went together the direct way to his house. Now his man went before to show him his way, and they went till they came even under old Mr. Evil-question- ing’s wall. Then said Diligence, Hark, my THE HOLY WAR. 473 lord ! do you know the old gentleman’s tongue when you hear it? Yes, said my lord, I know it well, hut I have not seen him many a day. This I know, he is cunning; I wish he doth not give us the slip. Let me alone for that, said his servant Diligence. But how shall we find the door? quoth my lord. Let me alone for that too, said his man. So he had my Lord Will-hc-will about and showed him the way to the door. Then my lord without more ado broke open the door, rushed into the house, and caught them all five together, even as Diligence, his man, had told him. So my lord apprehended them and led them away, and committed them to the hand of Mr. True- man the jailer, and commanded and he did put them in ward. This done, my lord mayor was acquainted in the morning with what my Lord Will-be-will had done over night, and his lordship rejoiced much at the news, not only because there were Doubters apprehended, but because that old Evil-questioning was taken ; for he had been a very great trouble to Mansoul, and much affliction to my lord mayor himself. He had also been sought for often, but no hand could ever be laid upon him till now. Well, the next thing was to make prepara- tion to try these five that by my lord had been apprehended, and that were in the hands of Mr. True-man the jailer. So the day was set and the court called and come together, and being seated, the prisoners were brought to the bar. My Lord Will-be-will had power to have slain them when at first he took them, and that without any more ado, but he thought it at this time more for the honour of the Prince, the comfort of Mansoul, and the discourage- ment of the enemy to bring them forth to public judgment. But, I say, Mr. True-man brought them in chains to the bar, to the town-hall, for that was tli e place of j udgment. So, to be short, the jury was pannellcd, the witnesses sworn, and the prisoners tried for their lives : the jury was the same that tried Mr. No-truth, Pitiless, Haughty, and the rest of their companions. And first, old Questioning himself was set to the bar, for he was the receiver, the enter- tainer and comforter of these Doubters, that by nation were outlandish men ; then he was bid to hearken to his charge, and was told that he had liberty to object if he had aught to say for himself. So his indictment wa§ read ; the manner and form here follows : Mr. Questioning, thou art here indicted by the name of Evil-questioning, (an intruder upon the town of Mansoul,) for that thou art a Diabolonian by nature, and also a hater of the Prince Emmanuel, and one that hast studied the ruin of the town of Mansoul. Thou art also here indicted for countenancing the King’s enemies, after wholesome laws made to the contrary. For, 1. Thou hast questioned the truth of her doctrine and state; 2. In wishing that ten thousand Doubters were in her ; 3. In receiving, in entertaining, and encouraging of her enemies that came from their army unto thee. What sayest thou to this indictment? — art thou guilty or not guilty? My lord, quoth he, I know not the meaning of this indictment, forasmuch as I am not the man concerned in it; the man that standeth by this charge, accused before this bench, is called by the name of Evil-questioning, which name I deny to be mine, mine being Honest- inquiring. The one indeed sounds like the other; but I trow your lordship knows that between these two there is a wide difference; for I hope that a man, even in the worst of times, and that too amongst the worst of men, may make an honest inquiry after things with- out running the danger of death. Then spake my Lord Will-be-will, for he was one of the witnesses : My lord, and you the honourable bench and magistrates of the town of Mansoul, you all have heard with your ears that the prisoner at the bar has denied his name, and so thinks to shift from the charge of the indictment. But I know him to be the man concerned, and that his proper name is Evil-questioning. I have known him, my lord, above this thirty years, for he and I (a shame it is for me to speak it) were great acquaintance when Diabolus, that tyrant, had the government of Mansoul ; and I testify that he is a Diabolonian by nature, an enemy to our Prince, and hater of the blessed town of Mansoul. He has in times of rebellion been at and lain in my house, my lord, not so little as twenty nights together ; and we did use to talk then (for the substance of talk) as he and his Doubters have talked of late ; true, I have not seen him many a day. I suppose that the coming of Emmanuel to Mansoul has made him to change his lodgings, as this indictment has driven him to change his name ; but this is the man, my lord. Then said the court unto him, Hast thou any more to say ? Yes, quoth the old gentleman, that I have; for all that as yet has been said against me is 474 bunyan;s complete wopjcs. but by the mouth of one witness, and it is not lawful for the famous town of Mansoul at the mouth of one witness to put any man to death. Then stood forth Mr. Diligence and said, My lord, as I was upon my watch such a night, at the head, of Bad-street in this town, I chanced to hear a muttering within this gen- tleman’s house ; then thought I, What is to do here ? So I went up close but very softly to the side of the house to listen, thinking, as indeed it fell out, that there I might light upon some Diabolonian conventicle. So, as I said, I drew nearer and nearer, and when I was got up close to the wall, it was but a while before I perceived that there were outlandish men in the house, but I did well understand their speech, for I have been a traveller my- self. Now r hearing such language, in such a tottering cottage as this old gentleman dwelt in, I clapt mine ear to a hole in the window, and there heard them talk as followeth. This old Mr. Questioning asked these Doubters what they were, whence they came, and what was their business in these parts? And they told him to all these questions, yet he did en- tertain them. He also asked what numbers there were of them, and they told him ten thousand men. He then asked them why they made no more manly assault upon Mansoul, and they told him ; so he called their general coward for marching off when he should have fought for his prince. Further, this old Evil- questioning wished, and I heard him wish, Would all the ten thousand Doubters were now in Mansoul, and himself at the head of them ! He bid them also to take heed and lie quiet, for if they were taken they must die, although they had heads of gold. Then said the court : Mr. Evil-questioning, here is now another witness against you, and his testimony is full. 1. He swears that you did receive these men into your house, and that you did nourish them there, though you kr.ew that they were Diabolonians and the King’s enemies. 2. He swears that you did wish ten thousand of them in Mansoul. 3. He swears that you did give them advice to be quiet and close, lest they should be taken by the King’s servants. All which manifesteth that thou art a Diabolonian, for liadst thou been a friend to the King thou wouldst have apprehended them. Then said Evil-questioning : To the first of these I answer, The men that came into mine house were strangers, and I took them in, and is it now become a crime in Mansoul for a man to entertain strangers? That I did also nour- ish them is true, and why should my charity be blamed? As for the reason why I wished ten thousand of them in Mansoul, I never told it to the witnesses nor to themselves. I might wish them to be taken, and so my wish might mean well to Mansoul for aught that any yet knows. I did also bid them take heed that they fell not into the captains’ hands, but that might be because I api unwilling that any man should be slain, and not because I would have the. King’s enemies, as such, escape. My lord mayor then replied that though it was a virtue to entertain strangers, yet it was treason to entertain the King’s enemies. And for what else thou hast said, thou dost by words but labour to evade and defer the exe- cution of judgment. But could there be no more proved against thee but that thou art a Diabolonian, thou must for that die the death by the law ; but to be a receiver, a nourisher, a countenancer, and a harbourer of others of them, yea, of outlandish Diabolonians — of them that come' from far on purpose to cut off and destroy our Mansoul — this must not be borne. Then said Evil-questioning, I see how the game will go; I must die for my name and for my charity. And so he held his peace. Then they called the outlandish Doubters to the bar; and the first of them that was ar- raigned was the Election-doubter; so his in- dictment was read, and because he was an outlandish man, the substance of it was told him by an interpreter — to wit, that he was there charged with being an enemy of Em- manuel the Prince, a hater of the town of Mansoul, and an opposer of her most whole- some doctrine. Then the judge asked him if he would plead? But he said only this, that he con- fessed that he was an Election-doubter, and that was the religion that he had ever been brought up in. He said, moreover, If I must die for my religion, I trow I shall die a mar- tyr, and so I care the less. Then the judge replied: To question elec- tion is to overthrow a great doctrine of the Gospel — to wit, the omniscience, and power, and will of God ; to take away the liberty of God with his creature; to stumble the faith of the town of Mansoul; and to make salvation to depend upon works, and not upon grace. It also belies the word, and disquiets the minds of the men of Mansoul ; therefore by the best of laws he must die. THE HOLY WAR. 475 Then was the Vocation-doubter called and set to the bar; and his indictment for sub- stance was the same with the other, only be was particularly charged with denying the calling of Mansoul. The judge asked him also what lie had to say for himself? So he replied that he never believed that there was any such thing as a distinct and powerful call of God to Mansoul. otherwise than by the general voice of the word ; nor by that neither, otherwise than as it exhorted them to forbear evil and to do that which is good ; and in so doing a promise of happiness is annexed. Then said the judge: Thou art a Diabolo- nian, and hast denied a great part of one of the most experimental truths of the Prince of the town of Mansoul ; for he has called, and she has heard a most distinct and powerful call of her Emmanuel, by which she has been quickened, awakened, and possessed with heav- enly grace to desire to have communion with her Prince, to serve him, and do his will, and to look for her happiness merely of his good pleasure. And for thine abhorrence of this good doctrine thou must die the death. Then the Grace-doubter was called and his indictment read ; and he replied thereto that though he was of the land of Doubting, his father was the offspring of a Pharisee, and lived in good fashion among his neighbours; and that he taught him to believe, and believe it he did and would, that Mansoul shall never be saved freely by grace. Then said the judge: Why, the law of the Prince is plain— 1. Negatively, Not of works. 2. Positively, By grace you are saved. And thy religion settletli in and upon the works of the flesh, for the works of the law are the works of the flesh. Besides, in saying as thou hast done thou hast robbed God of his glory and given it to a sinful man ; thou hast robbed Christ of the necessity of his undertaking and the sufficiency thereof, and hast given both these to the works of the flesh. Thou hast despised the work of the Holy Ghost, and hast magnified the will of the flesh and of the legal mind. Thou art a Diabolonian, the son of a Diabolonian, and for thy Diabolonian principles thou must die. The court then having proceeded thus far with them, sent out the jury, who forthwith brought them in guilty of death. Then stood up the recorder and addressed himself to the 7 risoners : You, the prisoners at the bar, you have been here indicted and proven guilty of high crimes against Emmanuel our Prince, and against the welfare of the famous town of Mansoul — crimes for which you must be put to death ; and die ye accordingly. So they were sentenced to the death of the cross. The place assigned them for execution was that where Diabolusdrew up his last army against Mansoul, save only that old Evil-ques- tioning was hanged at the top of Bad-street, just over against his own door. When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid themselves of their enemies and of the troub- les of their peace, in the next place a strict commandment was given out that yet my Lord Will-be-will should, with Diligence his man, search for and do his best to apprehend what Diabolonians were yet left alive in Mansoul. The names of several of them were Mr. Fool- ing, Mr. Let-good-slip, Mr. Slavish-fear, Mr. No-love, Mr. Mistrust, Mr. Flesh, and Mr. Sloth. It was also commanded that lie should apprehend Mr. Evil-questioning’s children that he left behind him, and that they should demolish his house. The children that he left behind were these: Mr. Doubt, and he was his eldest son; the next to him was Legal-life, Unbelief, Wrong-thoughts-of-Christ, Clip- promise, Carnal-sense, Live-by-feeling, Self- love. All these he had by one wife, and her name was No-liope; she was the kinswoman of old Incredulity, for he was her uncle, and when her father, old Dark, was dead, he took her and brought her up, and when she was marriageable he gave her to this old Evil- questioning to wife. Now the Lord Will-be-will did put into execution his commission, with good Diligence his man. He took Fooling in the streets and hanged him up in Want-wit-alley, over against his own house. This Fooling was he that would have had the town of Mansoul deliver up Captain Credence into the hands of Diab- olus, provided that then he would have with- drawn his force out of the town. He also took Mr. Lct-good-slip one day as he was busy in the market, and executed him according to law. Now there was an honest, poor man in Mansoul, and his name was Mr. Meditation — one of no great account in the days of apos- tacy, but now of repute with the best of the town. This man therefore they were willing to prefer ; now Mr. Let-good-slip had a great deal of wealth heretofore in Mansoul, and at Emmanuel’s coming it was sequestered to the use of the Prince; this therefore was now RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. given to Mr. Meditation, to improve for the common good, and after him to his son, Mr. Think-well ; this Think-well he had by Mrs. Piety his wife, and she was the daughter of Mr. Recorder. After this my lord apprehended Clip-prom- ise ; now, because he was a notorious villain, (for by his doings much of the King’s coin was abused,) therefore he was made a public example. He was arraigned and judged to be first set in the pillory, then to be whipped by all the children and servants in Mansoul, and then to be hanged till he was dead. He also apprehended Carnal-sense and put him in hold, but how it came about I cannot tell, but he brake prison and made his escape. Yea, and the hold villain will not yet quit the town, but lurks in the Diabolonian dens in the daytime, and haunts like a ghost honest men’s houses at nights. Wherefore there was a proclamation set up in the marketplace in Mansoul, signifying that whosoever could dis- cover Carnal-sense, and apprehend him and slay him, should be admitted daily to the Prince’s table and should be made keeper of the treasure of Mansoul. Many therefore did bend themselves to do this thing, but take him and slay him they could not, though often he was discovered. But my lord took Mr. Wrong-thoughts-of- Christ and put him into prison, and he died there, though it was long first, for he died of a lingering consumption. Self-love was also taken and committed to custody, but there were many that were allied to him in Mansoul, so his judgment was de- ferred ; but at last Mr. Self-denial stood up and said, If such villains as these may be winked at in Mansoul, I will lay down my commission. He also took him from the crowd and had him among his soldiers, and there he was brained. But some in Mansoul muttered at it, though none durst speak plainly, because Emmanuel was in town. But this brave act of Captain Self-denial came to the Prince’s ears ; so he sent for him and made him a lord in Mansoul. Then my Lord Self-denial took courage, and set to the pursuing the Diabolonians with my Lord Will-be-will ; and they took Live-by- feeling and they took Legal-life, and put them in hold till they died. But Mr. Unbelief was a nimble jack; him they could never lay hold of, though they attempted to do it often. He therefore, and some few more of the Diabo- lonian tribe, did yet remain in Mansoul to the time that Mansoul left off to dwell any longer in the kingdom of Universe. But they kept them to their dens and holes; if one of them did appear, or happen to be seen in any of the streets of the town of Mansoul, the whole town would be up in arms after them ; yea, the very children in Mansoul would cry out after them as after a thief, and would wish that they might stone them to death with stones. And now did Mansoul arrive to some good degree of peace and quiet ; her Prince also did abide within her borders ; her captains also and her soldiers did their duties, and Mansoul minded her trade that she had with the country that was afar off; also she was busy in her manu- facture. When the town of Mansoul had thus far rid themselves of so many of their enemies and the troublers of their peace, the Prince sent to them and appointed a day wherein he would at the market-place meet the whole people, and there give them in charge concerning some further safety and comfort, and to the con- demnation and destruction of their home-bred Diabolonians. So the day appointed was come, and the townsmen met together; Emmanuel also came down in his chariot, and all his cap- tains in their state attending of him on the right hand and on the left. Then was an “ 0 ye” made for silence; and after some mutual carriages of love the Prince began and thus proceeded : You, my Mansoul, and the beloved of mine heart, many and great are the privileges that I have bestowed upon you ; I have singled you out from others and have chosen you to myself, not for your worthiness, but for mine own sake. I have also redeemed you, not only from the dread of my Father’s law, but from the hand of Diabolus. This I have done because I have loved you, and because I have set my heart upon you to do you good. I have also, that all things that might hinder thy way to the pleasures of paradise might be taken out of the way, laid down for thee, for thy soul, a plenary satisfaction, and have bought thee to myself — a price not of corruptible things as of silver and gold, but a price of blood, mine own blood, which I have freely spilt upon the ground to make thee mine. So I have recon- ciled thee, 0 my Mansoul ! to my Father, and interested thee in the mansion-houses that are with my Father, in the royal city, where things are, 0 my Mansoul 1 that eye hath not seen, nor hath entered into the heart of man •to conceive. Besides, 0 my Mansoul ! thou seest what I THE IIOLY WAR. 477 !u\ vc done, and how I have taken thee out of the hands of thine enemies, unto whom thou hast deeply revolted from my Father, and by whom thou wast content to be possessed and also to be destroyed. I came to thee first by my law, and then by my Gospel, to awaken thee and show thee my glory. And thou know- est what thou wast, what thou saidest, what thou didst, and how many times thou rebel- ledst against my Father and me; yet I left thee not, as thou seest this day, but came to thee, have borne thy manners, have waited upon thee, and after all accepted of thee, even of my mere grace and favour, and would not suffer thee to be lost, as thou most willingly wouldst have been. Thou seest, moreover, my Mansoul, how I have passed by thy backslidings and have healed thee. Indeed I was angry with thee, but I have turned mine anger away from thee, because I loved thee still, and mine anger and mine indignation is ceased in the destruction of thine enemies, 0 Mansoul ! Nor did thy goodness fetch me again unto thee after that I for thy transgressions had hid my face and withdrawn my presence from thee. The way of backsliding was thine, but the way and means of thy recovery was mine. I invented the meaus of tliy return. It was I that made an hedge and a wall when thou wast begin- ning to turn to things in which I delighted not. It was I that made thy sweet bitter, thy day night, thy smooth way thorny, and that also confounded all that sought thy destruction. It was I that set Mr. Godly-fear to work in Man- soul. It was I that stirred up thy conscience and understanding, thy will and thy affections, after thy great and woeful decay. It was I that put life into thee, 0 Mansoul ! to seek me that thou miglitest find me, and in thy finding find thine own health, and happiness, and sal- vation. It was I that fetched the second time the Diabolonians out of Mansoul, and it was I that overcame them and that destroyed them before thy face. And now, my Mansoul, I am returned to thee in peace, and thy transgressions against me are as if they had not been. Nor shall it be with thee as in former days, but I will do better for thee than at thy beginning. For yet a little while, O my Mansoul ! even after a few more times are gone over thy head, I will (but be not troubled at what I say) take down this famous town of Mansoul, stick and stone, to the ground, and I will carry the stones thereof, and the timber thereof, and the walls thereof, and the dust thereof, and the inhabitants there- of, into mine own country, even into a king- dom of my Father; and will there set it up in such strength and glory as it never did see in the kingdom where now it is placed. I will even there set it up for my Father’s habitation, for for that purpose it was at first erected in the kingdom of Universe; and there will I make it a spectacle of wonder, a monument of mercy, and tire admirer of its own mercy. There shall the natives of Mansoul see all that of which they have seen nothing here; there shall they be equal to those unto whom they have been inferior here. And there thou shalt, O my Mansoul! have such communion with me, with my Father, and with your lord secretary as is not possible here to be enjoyed, nor ever could be, sliouldst thou live in Uni- verse the space of a thousand years. And there, 0 my Mansoul! thou shalt be afraid of murderers no more — of Diabolonians and their threats no more. There shall be no more plots, nor contrivances, nor designs against thee, O my Mansoul! There thou shalt no more hear the evil tidings or the noise of the Diabolonian drum. There thou shalt not see the Diabolonian standard-bearers, nor yet behold Diabolus’s standard. No Diab- olonian mount shall be cast up against thee there, nor shall there the Diabolonian standard be set up to make thee afraid. There thou shalt not need captains, engines, soldiers and men of war. There thou shalt meet with no sorrow nor grief, nor shall it be possible that any Diabolonian should again, for ever, be able to creep into thy skirts, burrow in thy walls, or be seen again within thy borders, all the days of eternity. Life shall there last longer than here you are able to desire it should, aud yet it shall always be sweet and new, nor shall any impediment attend it for ever. There, O Mansoul ! thou shalt meet with many of those that have been like thee, and that have been partakers of thy sorrows ; even such as I have chosen, and redeemed, and set apart, as thou, for my Father’s court and city royal. All they will be glad in thee, and thou, when thou seest them, shalt be glad in thine heart. There are things, 0 Mansoul! — even things of thy Father’s providing and mine — that never were seen since the beginning of the world, and they are laid up with my Father, and sealed up among his treasures for thee, till thou shalt come thither to enjoy them. 478 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. And thus, 0 my Mansoul ! I have showed unto thee what shall he done to thee hereafter if thou canst hear, if thou canst understand ; and now I will tell thee w r hat at present must be thy duty and practice until I come and fetch thee to myself, according as is related in the Scriptures of truth. First, I charge thee that thou dost hereafter keep more white and clean the liveries which I gave thee before my last withdrawing from thee. When your garments are white the world will count you mine. Also when your gar- ments are white, then I am delighted in your ways ; for then your goings to and fro will be like a flash of lightning, that those that are present must take notice of, also their eyes will be made to dazzle thereat. Deck thyself, therefore, according to my bidding, and make thyself by my law straight steps for thy feet, so shall thy King greatly desire thy beauty, for he is thy Lord, #.nd worship thou him. Now that thou mayest keep them as I bid thee, I have, as I before told thee, provided for thee an open fountain to wash thy garments in. Look therefore that thou wash often in my fountain and go not in defiled garments ; for as it is to my dishonour and my disgrace, so it will be to thy discomfort, when you shall walk in filthy garments. Keep thy gar- ments always white, and let thy head lack no ointment. My Mansoul, I have ofttimes delivered thee from the designs, plots, attempts, and conspir- acies of Diabolus, and for all this I ask thee nothing hut that thou render not to me evil for my good, but that thou bear in mind my love and the continuation of my kindness to my beloved Mansoul, so as to provoke thee to walk, in thy measure, according to the bene- fits bestowed on thee. Of old the sacrifices were hound with cords to the horns of the golden altar. Consider what is said to thee, O my blessed Mansoul ! 0 my Mansoul ! I have lived, I have died, I live and will die no more, for thee. I live that thou mayest not die. Because I live thou shalt live also. I reconciled thee to my Father by the blood of my cross, and, being reconciled, thou shalt live through me. I will pray for thee, I will fight for thee, I will yet do thee good. Nothing can hurt thee but sin ; nothing can grieve me but sin; nothing can make thee base before thy foes but sin ; take heed of sin, my Mansoul. And dost thou know why I at first, and do still, suffer Diabolonians to dwell in thy walls, 0 Mansoul ? It is to keep thee waiting, to try thy love, to make thee watchful, and to cause thee yet to prize my noble captains, their sol- diers, and my mercy. It is also that yet thou mayest be made to remember what a deplorable condition thou once wast in. I mean, when not some, but all, did dwell, not in thy walls, but in thy cas- tle and in thy stronghold, O Mansoul ! 0 my Mansoul ! should I slay all them within, many there be without that would bring thee into bondage; for were all those within cut off, those without would find thee sleeping, and then as in a moment they would swallow up my Mansoul. I therefore let them live in thee, not to do thee hurt, (the which they yet wall if thou hearken to them and serve them,) but to do thee good, the which they must if thou watch and fight against them. Know, therefore, that whatever they shall tempt thee to, my design is that they should drive thee, not further off, but nearer to my Father, to learn thee war, to make peti- tioning desirable to thee, and to make thee little in thine own eyes. Hearken diligently to this, my Mansoul. Show me then thy love, my Mansoul, and let not those that are within thy walls take thy affections off from Him that hath re- deemed thy soul. Yea, let the sight of a Diabolonian heighten thy love to me. I came once, and twice, and thrice to save thee from the poison of those arrows that would have wrought thy death. Stand for me, my friend, my Mansoul, against the Diabolonians, and I will stand for thee before my Father and all his court. Love me against tempta- tion, and I will love thee notwithstanding thine infirmities. 0 my Mansoul! remember what my cap- tains, my soldiers, and mine engines have borne for thee; they have fought for thee, they have suffered by thee, they have borne much at thy hands to do thee good. Hadst thou not had them to help thee, Diabolus had certainly made an end of thee. Nourish them, therefore, my Mansoul. When thou dost well, they will be well; when thou dost ill, they will he ill, and sick, and weak. Make not my captains sick, 0 Mansoul ! for if they be sick, thou canst not be well ; if they be weak, thou canst not be strong; if they be faint, thou canst not be stout and valiant for thy King, O Mansoul! Nor must thou think always to THE HOLY WAR. 479 live by sense ; thou must live upon my word. Thou must believe, O my Mansoul! when I am from thee, that yet I love thee and bare thee upon mine heart for ever. Remember, therefore, 0 my Mansoul! that thou art beloved of me. As I have therefore taught thoo to watch, to fight, to pray, and to make war against my foes, so now I command thee to believe that my love is constant to thee. O my Mansoul! how have I set my heart, my love upon thee I Watch ! Behold, I lay none other burden upon thee than what thou hast already. Hold fast till I come. THE LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. PRESENTED TO THE WORLD IN A FAMILIAR DIALOGUE BETWEEN MR. WISEMAN AND MR. ATTENTIVE. THE AUTHOR TO THE READER. Courteous Reaper : As I was considering with myself what I had written concerning the progress of the Pilgrim from this world to glory, and how it had been acceptable to many in this nation, it came again into my mind to write as then of him that was going to heaven, so now of the life and death of the ungodly, and of their travel from this world to hell. The which in this I have done, and have put it, as thou seest, under the name and title of Mr. Badman, a name very proper for such a subject; I have also put it in the form of a dialogue, that I might with more case to myself and pleasure to the reader perform the work. And although, as I said, I have put it forth in this method, yet have I, as little as may he, gone out of the road of mine own observation of things. Yea, I think I may truly say that to the best of my remembrance all the things that here I discourse of, I mean as to matter of fact, have been acted upon the stage of the world, even many times before mine eyes. Here, therefore, courteous reader, I present thee with the life and death of Mr. Badman indeed ; yea, I do trace him in his life, from his childhood to his death, that thou mayest, as in a glass, behold with thine own eyes the steps that take hold of hell ; and also discern, while thou art reading of Mr. Badman’s death, whether thou thyself art treading in his path thereto. And let me entreat thee to forbear quirking and mocking for that Mr. Badman is dead, but rather gravely inquire concerning thyself by the word whether thou art one of his lineage or no ; for Mr. Badman has left many of his relations behind him ; yea, the very world is 31 overspread with his kindred. True, some of his relations, as he, are gone to their place and long home, but thousands of thousands are left behind, as brothers, sisters, cousins, nephews, besides innumerable of his friends and asso- ciates. I may say, and yet speak nothing but too much truth in so saying, that there is scarce a fellowship, a community, or fraternity of men in the world but some of Mr. Badman’s rela- tions are there; yea, rarely can we find a family or a household in a town where he has not left behind him a brother, nephew, or friend. The butt, therefore, that at this time I shoot at is wide, and it will be as impossible for this book to go into several families and not to ar- rest some, as for the king’s messenger to rush into an house full of traitors and find none but honest men there. I cannot but think that this shot will light upon many, since our fields are so full of this game ; but how many it will kill to Mr. Bad- man’s course and make alive to the Pilgrim’s progress, that is not in me to determine ; this secret is with the Lord our God only, and he alone knows to whom he will bless it to so good and so blessed an end. However, I have put fire to the pan, and doubt not but the re- port will quickly be heard. I told you before that Mr. Badman had left many of his friends and relations behind him, but if I survive them (and that’s a great ques- tion to me) I may also write of their lives; however, whether my life be longer or shorter, this is my prayer at present — that God will stir up witnesses against them that may either con- vert or confound them ; for wherever they live 4S1 482 LUKYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. and roll in their wickedness they are the pest and plague of that country. England shakes and totters already by rea- son of the burden that Mr. Badman and his friends have wickedly laid upon it; yea, our earth reels and staggereth to and fro like a drunkard; the transgression thereof is heavy upon it. Courteous reader, I will treat thee now, even at the door and threshold of this house, but only with this intelligence, that Mr. Badman lies dead within. Be pleased, therefore, (if (hy leisure will serve thee,) to enter in, and behold the state in which he is laid betwixt his deathbed and the grave. He is not buried as yet, nor doth he stink, as is designed he shall before he lies down in oblivion. Now, as others have had their funerals solemnized according to their greatness and grandeur in the world, so likewise Mr. Badman (forasmuch as he deservetli not to go down to his grave with silence) has his funeral state according to his deserts. Four things are usual at great men’s funerals, which we’ will take leave, and I hope without offence, to allude to in the funeral of Mr. Bad- man. First. They are sometimes, when dead, pre- sented to their friends, by their comjdetely wrought images, as lively as by cunning men’s hands they can be, that the remembrance of them may be renewed to their survivors, the remembrance of them and their deeds; and this I have endeavoured to answer in my dis- course of Mr. Badman ; and therefore I have drawn him forth in his features and actions from his childhood to his gray hairs. Here, therefore, thou hast him lively set forth as in cuts, both as to the minority, flower, and seni- ority of his age, together with those actions of his life that he was most capable of doing, in and under those present circumstances of time, place, strength, and the opportunities that did attend him in these. Secondly. There is also usual at great men’s funerals those badges and escutcheons of their honour that they have received from their an- cestors or have been thought worthy of for the deeds and exploits they have done in their life; and here Mr. Badman has his, but such as vary from all men of worth, but so much the more agreeing with the merit of his doings ; they all have descended in state, he only as an abomin- able branch. His deserts are the deserts of sin ; and therefore the escutcheons of honour that he has are only that he died without hon- our and at his end became a fool. Tlicu shale not be joined with them in burial. The seed of evil-doers shall never be renowned. The funeral pomp, therefore, of Mr. Badman is to wear upon his hearse the badges of a dis- honourable and wicked life, since his bones are full of the sins of his youth, which shall lie down, as Job says, in the dust with him ; nor is it fit that any should be his attendants, now at his death, but such as with him conspired against their ow r n souls in their life — persons whose transgressions have made them infamous to all that have or shall know w r liat they have done. Some notice, therefore, I have also here in this little discourse given the reader of them who were his confederates in his life and at- tendants at his death; with a hint either of some high villainy committed by them, as also of those judgments that have overtaken and fallen upon them from the just and avenging hand of God. All which are things either fully known by me, as being eye and ear wit- ness thereto, or that I have received from such hands whose relations, as to this, I am bound to believe. And that the reader may know them from other things and passages herein contained, I have pointed at them with a finger, thus J6@“. Thirdly. The funerals of persons of quality have been solemnized with some suitable ser- mon at the time and place of their burial ; and that I am not come to as yet, having got no further than to Mr. Badman’s death ; but for- asmuch as he must be buried after he hath be- come polluted before his beholders, I doubt not but some such that we read are appointed to be at the burial of Gog will do this work in my stead, such as shall leave him neither skin nor bone above ground, but shall set a sign by it till the buriers have buried it in the valley of Hamongog. Ezek. xxxix. Fourthly. At funerals there did use to be mourning and lamentations, but here also Mr. Badman differs from others ; his familiars can- not lament his departure, for they have not sense of his damnable state ; they rather ring him and sing him to hell in the sleep of death in which he goes thither. Good men count him no loss to the world; his place can well be without him ; his loss is only his owm, and it is too late for him to recover that damage or loss by a sea of bloody tears, could he shed them. Yea, God has said he will laugh at his destruction ; who, then, shall lament for him, saying, Ah ! my brother? He w r as but a stink- LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. DA DM AN. 483 ing weed in his life, nor was he better at all in his death. Such may well be thrown over the wall without sorrow when once God has pluck- ed them up by the roots in his wrath. Reader, if thou art of the race, lineage, stock, or fraternity of Mr. Badman, I tell thee, before thou readest this book, thou wilt neither brook the author nor it, because lie hath writ of Mr. Badman as he has. For he that con- demnetli the wicked that die so passetli also the sentence upon the wicked that live. I therefore expect neither credit of nor counten- ance from thee for this narration of thy kins- man’s life. For thy old love to thy friend, his ways, doings, &c., will stir up in thee enmity rather, in thy very heart, against me. I shall there- fore incline to think of thee that thou wilt rend, burn, or throw it away in contempt; yea, and wish also that for writing so notorious a truth some mischief may befall me. I look also to be loaded by thee with disdain, scorn and contempt ; yea, that thou shouldest rail- inglv and vilifying say I lie, and am a bespat- terer of honest men’s lives and deaths. For Mr. Badman, when himself was alive, could not abide to be counted a knave, (though his actions told all that went by that indeed he was such an one.) How, then, should his brethren that survive him, and that tread in his very steps, approve of the sentence that by this book is pronounced against him? Will they not rather imitate Korah, Datlian, and Abiram’s friends — even rail at me for con- demning him, as they did at Moses for doing execution ? I know it is ill puddling in the cockatrice’s den, and that they run hazards that hunt the wild boar. The man also that writeth Mr. Badman’s life had need be fenced with a coat of mail and with the staff" of a spear, for that his surviving friends will know what he doth; but I have ventured to do it, and to play, at this time, at the hole of these asps; if they bite, they bite; if they sting, they sting. Christ sends his lambs into the midst of wolves, not to do like them, but to suffer by them for bearing plain testimony against their bad deeds ; but had one not need to walk with a guard and to have a sentinel stand at one’s door for this? Verily, the flesh would be glad of such help ; yea, a spiritual man, could he tell how to get it. Acts xxiii. But I am stripped naked of these, and yet am com- manded to be faithful in my service for Christ. Well, then, I have spoken what I have spoken, and now come on me what will. Job xii. 13. True, the text says, “Rebuke a scorner, and he will hate thee; and that he that reproveth a wicked man, getteth himself a blot and shame;” but what then? Open rebuke is better than secret love, and he that receives it shall find it so afterwards. So, then, whether Mr. Badman’s friends shall rage or laugh at what I have writ, I know the better end of the staff is mine. My endeavour is to stop an hellish course of life and to save a soul from death, (James v. ;) and if for so doing I meet with envy from them from whom in reason I should have thanks, I must remember the man in the dream that cut his way through his armed enemies, and so got into the beauteous palace; — I must, I say, remember him, and do myself likewise. Yet four things I will propound to the con- sideration of Mr. Badman’s friends before I turn my back upon them : 1. Suppose that there be a hell in very deed — not that I do question it, any more than I do whether there be a sun to shine, but I suppose it for argument’s sake with Mr. Badman’s friends — I say, suppose there be an hell, and that, too, such an oue as the Scrip- ture speaks of — one at the remotest distance from God and life eternal — one where the worm of a guilty conscience never dies, and where the fire of the wrath of God is not quenched. Suppose, I say, that there is such an hell, prepared of God (as there is indeed) for the body and soul of the ungodly world after this life to be tormented in ; — I say, do but with thyself suppose it, and then tell me, is it not prepared for thee, thou being a wicked man? Let thy conscience speak, I say ; is it not pre- pared for thee, thou being an ungodly man? And dost thou think, wast thou there now, that thou art able to wrestle with the judg- ment of God? Why then do the fallen angels tremble there? Thy hands cannot be strong nor can thy heart endure in that day when God shall deal with thee. Ezek. xxii. 14. 2. Suppose that some one that is now a soul in hell for sin was permitted to come hither again to dwell, and that they had a grant also that upon amendment of life next time they die to change that place for heaven and glory, what sayest thou, 0 wicked man? Would such an one (thinkest thou) run again into the same course of life as before, and venture the damnation that for sin he had already been in? Would he choose again to lead that cursed 484 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. life that afresh would kindle the flames of hell upon him, and that would hind him under the heavy wrath of God? Oh he would not, he would not ; the 16th of Luke insinuates it ; yea, reason itself, awake, would abhor it, and tremble at such a thought. 3. Suppose, again, that thou that livest and rollest in thy sin, and that as yet hast known nothing but the pleasure thereof, shouldest be an angel conveyed to some place where, with convenience from thence, thou mightest have a view of heaven and hell — of the joys of the one, and the torments of the other; — I say, suppose that from thence thou mightest have such a view thereof as would convince thy reason that both heaven and hell are such realities as by the word they are declared to be, wouldest thou (thinkest thou?) when brought to thy home again, choose to thyself thy former life — to wit, to return to thy folly again? No; if belief of what thou sawest re- mained with thee, thou wouldest eat fire and brimstone first. 4. I will propound again. Suppose that there was amongst us such a law (and such a magistrate to inflict the penalty) that for every open wickedness committed by thee so much of thy flesh should, with burning pincers, be plucked from thy bones ; wouldest thou then go on in thy open way of lying, swearing, and whoring as thou with delight doest now? Surely, surely no. The fear of the punish- ment would make thee forbear, yea, would make thee tremble, even when thy lusts were powerful, to think what a punishment thou wast sure to sustain so soon as the pleasure was over. But oh the folly, the madness, the desperate madness, that is in the hearts of Mr. Badman’s friends, who, in despite of the threatenings of an holy and sin-avenging God, and of the outcries and warning of all good men, yea, that will in despite of the groans and torments of those that are now in hell for sin, (Luke xiv. 24, 28,) go on in a sinful course of life, yea, though every sin is also a step of descent down to that infernal cave ! Oh how true is that saying of Solomon! — “The heart of the sons of men is full of evil, and mad- ness is in their heart while they live, and after that they go to the dead.” Eccles. ix. 3. To the dead! that is, to the dead in hell, to the damned dead — the place to which those that have died bad men are gone, and that those that live bad men are like to go to, when a little more sin, like stolen waters, hath been imbibed by their sinful souls. That which has made me publish this book is — 1. For that wickedness like a flood is like to drown our English world; it begins already to be above the tops of the mountains; it has al- most swallowed up all ; our youth, our middle age, old age, and all, are almost carried away of this flood. 0 debauchery, debauchery, what hast thou done in England ! Thou hast corrupted our young men, hast made our old men beasts ; thou hast deflowered our virgins and hast made matrons bawds ; thou hast made our earth to reel to and fro like a drunkard; it is in danger to be removed like a cottage; yea, it is, because transgression is so heavy upon it, like to “fall and rise no more.” Isa. xxiv. 20. Oh that I could mourn for England, and for the sins that are committed therein, even while I see that, without repentance, the men of God’s wrath are about to deal with us, each having his slaughtering weapon in his hand. Ezek. ix. 1, 2. Well, I have written, and by God’s assistance shall pray that this flood may abate in England ; and could I but see the tops of the mountains above it, I should think that these waters were abating. 2. It is the duty of those that can to cry out against this deadly plague; yea, to lift up their voice as with a trumpet against it, that men may be awakened about it, fly from it, as from that which is the greatest of evils. Sin pulled angels out of heaven, pulls men down to hell and overthroweth kingdoms. Who that sees an house on fire will not give the alarm to them that dwell therein? Who that sees the land invaded will not set the beacons on a flame? Who that sees the devils, as roaring lions, continually devouring souls, will not make an outcry? But, above all, when we see sin, sinful sin, swallowing up a nation, sinking of a nation, and bringing its inhabitants to temporal, spiritual, a.nd eternal ruin, shall we not cry out' and cry, “They are drunk, but not with wine ; they stagger, but not with strong drink ;” they are intoxicated with the deadly poison of sin, which will, if its malignity be not by wholesome means allayed, bring soul and body, and estate and country, and all, to ruin and destruction ? 3. In and by this my outcry I shall deliver myself from the ruins of them that perish ; for a man can do no more in this matter — I mean as man in rpy capacity — than to detect and condemn the wickedness, warn the evil-doer of the judgment, and fly therefrom myself. But oh that I might not only deliver myself! LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 485 Oh that many would hour and turn at this cry from sin, that they may be secured from the death and judgment that attend it I Why I have handled the matter in this method is best known to myself ; and why I have concealed most of the names of the per- sons whose sins or punishments I here and there in this book make relation of, is — 1. For that neither the sins nor judgments were all alike open; the sins of some were committed and the judgments executed for them only in a corner. Not to say that I could not learn some of their names, for could I, I should not have made them public, for this reason : 2. Because I would not provoke those of their relations that survive them ; I would not justly provoke them ; and yet, as I think I should, should I have entailed their punish- ment to their sins, and both to their names, and so have turned them into the world. 3. Nor would I lay them under any disgrace and contempt, which would, as I think, un- avoidably have happened unto them, had I withal inserted their names. As for those whose names I mention, their crimes or judgments were manifest — public almost as anything of that nature that hap- peneth to mortal men. Such therefore have published their own shame by their sin, and God his anger by taking of open vengeance. As Job says, “God has struck them as wicked men in the open sight of others.” Job xxxiv. 26. So that I cannot conceive, since their judgment was so conspicuous, that my admonishing thereof should turn to their det- riment; for the publishing of these things are, so far as relation is concerned, intended for remembrances, that they may also bethink themselves, repent, and turn to God, lest the judgments of their sins should prove heredi- tary. For the God of heaven hath threatened to visit the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, if they hate him, to the third and fourth generation. Ex. xx. 5. Nebuchadnezzar’s punishment for his pride, (for he was for his sin driven from his kingly dignity, and from among men too, to eat grass like an ox and to company with the beasts,) Daniel did not stick to tell Belshazzar, his son, to his face thereof, nor to publish it, that it might be read and remembered by the gener- ations to come. The same may be said of Judas and Ananias, etc., for their sin and punishment were known to all the dwellers at Jerusalem. Acts v. 1. Nor is it a sign but of a desperate impen- itence and hardness of heart when the offspring or relations of those who have fallen by open, fearful, and prodigious judgments for their sin shall overlook, forget, pass by, or take no no- tice of such outgoings of God against them and their house. Thus Daniel aggravates Belshazzar’s crime for that he hardened his heart in pride, though he knew that for that very sin and transgression his father was brought down from his height and made to be a companion for asses. “ And thou his son, 0 Belshazzar,” says he, “hast not humbled thy heart, though thou knewest all this.” Dan. v. A home reproof indeed, but home is most fit for an open and continued transgression. Let those, then, that arc the offspring or re- lations of such who by their own sin and the dreadful judgments of God are made to be- come a sign, (Dcut. xvi. 9, 10,) having been swept as dung from off the face of the earth, beware, lest when judgment knocks at their door for their sins, as it did before at the door of their progenitors, it falls also with as heavy a stroke as on them that went before them ; lest, I say, they in that day, instead of finding mercy, find, for their high, daring and judg- ment-affronting sins, judgment without mercy. To conclude: Let those that would not die Mr. Badman’s death take heed of Mr. Bad- man’s ways, for his ways bring to his ends; wickedness will not deliver him that is given to it, though he should cloak all with a pro- fession of religion. If it was a transgression of old for a man to wear a woman’s apparel, surely it is a trans- gression now for a sinner to wear a Christian profession for a cloak. Wolves in sheep’s clothing swarm in England this day — wolves both as to doctrine and as to practice too. Some men make a profession, I doubt not, on purpose that they may twist themselves into a trade and thence into an estate, yea, and if need be, into an estate knavishly bv the ruin of their neighbour. Let such take heed, for those that do such things have the greater damnation. Christian, make thy profession shine by a conversation according to the Gospel, or else thou wilt damnify religion, bring scandal to thy brethren, and give offence to the enemies ; and it would be better that a millstone was hanged about thy neck, and that thou, so adorned, was cast into the bottom of the sea, than so to do. Christian, a profession according to the 486 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Gospel is in these days a rare thing; seek, then, after it, put it on, and keep it without spot and (as becomes thee) white and clean, and thou shalt be a rare Christian. The prophecy of the last time is that pro- fessing men (for so I understand the text) shall be many of them base, (2 Tim. iii. ;) but continue thou in the things that thou hast learned, not of wanton men nor of licentious times but of the word and doctrine of God — that is, according to godliness — and thou shalt walk with Christ in white. Now, God Almighty give his people grace, not to hate or malign sinners, nor yet to choose any of their ways, but to keep them- selves pure from the blood of all men, by speaking and doing according to that name and those rules that they profess to know and love, for Jesus Christ’s sake. • JOHN BUNYAN. LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. Wiseman. Good-morrow, my good neigh- bour, Mr. Attentive; whither are you walking 60 early this morning? Metliinks you look as if you were concerned about something more than ordinary. Have you lost any of your cattle, or what is the matter? Attentive. Good sir, good-morrow to you. I have not as yet lost aught, but yet you give a right guess of me, for I am, as you say, con- cerned in my heart, but it is because of the badness of the times. And, sir, you, as all our neighbours know, are a very observing man ; pray, therefore, what do you think of them ? Wiseman. Why, I think, as you say — to wit, that they are had times, and bad they will be until men are better, for they are bad men that make bad times ; if men therefore should mend, so would the times. It is a folly to look for good days so long as sin is so high and those that study its nourishment so many. God bring it down, and those that nourish it to repentance, and then, my good neigh- bour, you will be concerned not as you are now. Now you are concerned because times are so bad, but then you will be so because times are so good; now you are concerned so as to be perplexed, but then you will be con- cerned so as to lift up your voice with shout- ing; for I dare say, could you see such days, they would make you shout. Attentive. Ay, so they would ; such times I have longed for, such times I have prayed for, but I fear they will be worse before they he better. Wiseman. Make no conclusion, man, for He that hath the hearts of men in his hand can change them from worse to better, and so bad times into good. God gives long life to them that are good, and especially to those of them that are capable of doing him service in the world. The ornament and beauty of this lower world, next to God and his wonders, are the men that spangle and shine in godliness. Now as Mr. Wiseman said this he gave a great sigh. Attentive. Amen, amen ! But why, good sir, do you sigh so deeply? Is it for aught else than that for the which, as you have perceived, I myself am concerned? Wiseman. I am concerned with you for the badness of the times, but that was not the cause of that sigh, of which, I see, you take notice. I sighed at the remembrance of the death of that man for whom the bell tolled at our towm yesterday. Attentive. Why, I trow Mr. Goodman, your neighbour, is not dead? Indeed, I did hear that he had been sick. Wiseman. No, no, it is not he. Had it been he, I could not but have been concerned, but yet not as I am concerned now. If he had died, I should only have been concerned that the world had lost a light, but the man that I am concerned for now was one that never was good ; therefore such a one who is not dead only, but damned. He died that he might die, he went from life to death, and then from death to death, from death natural to death eternal. And as he spake this the water stood in his eyes. Attentive. Indeed to go from a deathbed to hell is a fearful thing to think on. But, good neighbour Wiseman, be pleased to tell me who this man was, and why you conclude him so terrible in his death. Wiseman. Well, if you can stay, I will tell you who he was and why I conclude thus con- cerning him. Attentive. My leisure will admit me to stay, and I am willing to hear you out. And I pray God your discourse may take hold on my heart, that I may be bettered thereby. So they agreed to sit down under the tree. Then Mr. Wiseman proceeded as followeth. Wiseman. The man that I mean is one Mr. Badman ; he has lived in our town a great while, and now, as I said, he is dead. But the 4S7 488 B UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. reason of my being concerned at bis death is not for that he was at all related to me, or for that any good conditions died with him, for he was far from them, hut for that, as I greatly fear, he hath, as was hinted before, died two deaths at once. Attentive. I perceive what you mean by two deaths at once ; and to speak truth it is a fear- ful thing thus to have ground to think of any; for although the death of the ungodly and sin- ners is laid to heart but of few, yet to die in such a state is more dreadful and fearful than any mau can imagine. Indeed, if a man had no soul, if bis state was not truly immortal, the matter would not be so much ; but for a man to be so disposed of by his Maker as to be appointed a sensible being for ever, and for him to fall into the hands of avenging justice, that will be always, to the utmost extremity that his sin deserveth, punishing of him in the dismal dungeon of hell, this must needs be unutterably sad and lamentable. Wiseman. There is no man, I think, that is sensible of the worth of one soul but must, when he hears of the death of unconverted men, be stricken with sorrow and grief, be- cause, as you said well, that man’s state is such that he has a sensible being for ever. For it is sense that makes punishment heavy. But yet sense is not all that the damned have ; they have sense and reason too; so then, as sense receiveth punishment with sorrow, because it feels and bleeds under the same, so by reason, and the exercise thereof in the midst of tor- ment, all present affliction is aggravated, and that three manner of ways : 1. Reason will consider thus with himself : For what am I thus tormented? And will easily find it is for nothing but that base and filthy thing, sin; and now will vexation be mixed with punishment, and that will greatly heighten the affliction. 2. Reason will consider thus with himself : How long must this be my state ? And will soon return to himself this answer: This must be my state for ever and ever. Now this will greatly increase the torment. • 3. Reason will consider thus with himself : What have I lost more than present ease and quiet by my sins that I have committed? And will quickly return himself this answer : I have lost communion with God, Christ, saints and angels, and a share in heaven and eternal life. And this also must needs greatly add to the misery of poor damned souls. And this is the case of Mr. Badman. Attentive. I feel my heart even shake at the thoughts of coming into such a state. Hell ! who knows that is yet alive what the torments of hell are ? This word hell gives a very dread- ful sound. Wiseman. Ay, so it does in the ears of him that has a tender conscience. But if, as you say, and that truly, the very name of hell is so dreadful, what is the place itself, and what are the punishments that are there inflicted, and that without the least intermission, upon the souls of damned men for ever and ever ! Attentive. Well, but passing this, my leisure will permit me to stay, and therefore pray tell me what it is that makes you think that Mr. Badman is gone to hell ? Wiseman. I will tell you. But first, do you know which of the Badmans I mean ? Attentive. Why, was there more of them than one? Wiseman. Oh yes, a great many, both broth- ers and sisters, and yet all of them the chil- dren of godly parents — the more, a great deal, is the j>ity. Attentive. Which of them, therefore, was it that died? Wiseman. The eldest, old in years and old in sin ; but the sinner that dies an hundred years old shall be accursed. Attentive. Well, but what makes you think he is gone to hell ? Wiseman. His wicked life and fearful death, especially since the manner of his death was so corresponding with his life. Attentive. Pray let me know the manner of his death if yourself did perfectly know it. Wiseman. I was there when he died, but I desire not to see another such man, while I live, die in such sort as he did. Attentive. Pray therefore let me hear it. Wiseman. You say you have leisure and can stay, and therefore, if you please, we will dis- course even orderly of him. First, we will begin with his life, and then proceed to his death, because a relation of the first may the more affect you when you shall hear of the second. Attentive. Did you then so well know his life? Wiseman. I knew him of a child. I was a man when he was but a boy ; and I made a special observation of him from first to last. Attentive. Pray then let me hear from you an account of his life, but be as brief as you can, for I long to hear of the manner of his death. LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BADMAN. 489 Wiseman. I will endeavour to answer your desires; and first, I will tell you that from a child he was very bad ; his very beginning was ominous, and presaged that no good end was in likelihood to follow thereupon. There were several sins that he was given to when he was but a little one, that manifested him to be notoriously infected with original corruption ; for I dare say ho learned none of them of his father and mother, nor was he admitted to go much abroad among other children that were vile, to learn to sin of them ; nay, contrariwise, if at any times he did get abroad amongst others, he would be as the inventor of bad words and an example in bad actions. To them all he used to be, as we say, the ring- leader and master sinner from a child. Attentive. This was a bad beginning indeed, and did demonstrate that lie was, as you say, polluted, very much polluted, with original corruption. For, to speak my mind freely, I do confess that it is mine opinion that children come polluted with sin into the world, and that ofttimes the sins of their youth, especially while they are very young, are rather by vir- tue of indwelling sin than by examples that are set before them by others; not but that they learn to sin by example too, but example is not the root, but rather the temptation to wickedness. The root is sin within ; for from within, out of the heart of man, proceedetli sin. Wiseman. I am glad to hear that you are of this opinion, and to confirm what you have said by a few hints from the word : Man in his birth is compared to an ass (an unclean beast) and to a wretched infant in its blood; besides, all the first-born of old that were of- fered unto the Lord were to be redeemed at the age of a month, and that was before they were sinners by imitation. The Scripture also affirmeth that by the sin of one judgment came upon all ; and renders this reason, “ for that all have sinned ; ” nor is that objection worth a rush, that Christ by his death has taken away original sin. First, Because it is scriptureless. Secondly, Because it makes them incapable of salvation by Christ, for none but those that in their own persons are sinners are to have sal- vation by him. Many other things might be added, but between persons so well agreed as you and I are these may suffice at present ; but when an antagonist comes to deal with us about this matter, then we have for him often other strong arguments if he be an antagonist worth the taking notice of. Attentive. But, as was hinted before, he used to be ringleading sinner or the master of mis- chief among other children, yet these are but generals; pray therefore tell me in particulai what were the sins of his childhood? Wiseman. I will so. When lie was but a child lie was so addicted to lying that his pa- rents scarce knew when to believe he spake true; yea, lie would invent, tell, and stand to the lies that he invented and told, and that with such an audacious face that one might even read in his very countenance the symp- toms of an hard and desperate heart this way. Attentive. This was an ill beginning indeed, and argucth that lie began to harden himself in sin betimes. For a lie cannot be knowingly told and stood in (and I perceive that this was his manner of way in lying) but he must, as it were, force his own heart unto it. Yea, he must make liis heart hard and bold to do it ; yea, he must be arrived to an exceeding pitch of wickedness thus to do, since all this he did against that good education that before you seemed to hint he had from his father and mother. Wiseman. The want of a good education, as you have intimated, is many times a cause why children do so easily so soon become bad, es- pecially when there is not only a want of that, but bad examples enough, as, the more is the pity, there is in many families ; by virtue of which poor children are trained up in sin and nursed therein for the devil and hell. But it was otherwise with Mr. Badman, for to my knowledge this his way of lying was a great grief to his parents, for their hearts were much dejected at this beginning of their son ; nor did there want counsel and correction from them to him if that would have made him better. He wanted not to be told in my hear- ing, and that over and over and over, “ That all liars should have their part in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone,” and that who- soever loveth and maketli a lie should not have any part in the new and heavenly Jerusalem; but all availed nothing with him. When a fit or an occasion to lie came upon him, he would invent, tell, and stand to his lie as stead- fastly as if it had been the biggest of truths that he told, and that with that hardening of his heart and face that it would be to those who stood by a wonder. Nay, and this he would do when under the rod of correction, which is appointed by God for parents to use, that thereby they plight keep their children from hell. 490 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Attentive. Truly it was, as I said, a bad be- ginning, be served the devil betimes ; yea, he became nurse to one of his brats, for a spirit of lying is the devil’s brat; “For he is a liar, and the father of it.” Wiseman. Right! he is the father of it in- deed. A lie is begot by the devil as the father, and is brought forth by the wicked heart as the mother ; wherefore another Scripture also saith, “ Why hath Satan filled thy heart to lie?” &c. Yea, he calleth the heart that is big with a lie an heart that hath conceived — that is, by the devil. “ Why hast thou conceived this thing in thy heart? Thou hast not lied unto men, but unto God.” True, his lie was a lie of the highest nature, but every lie hath the same father and mother as had the lie last spoken of ; “ For he is a liar, and the father of it.” A lie, then, is a brat of hell, and it cannot be in the heart before the person has committed a kind of spiritual adultery with the devil. That soul, therefore, that telleth a known lie has lain with and conceived it by lying with the devil, the only father of lies. For a lie has only one father and mother, the devil and the heart. No marvel, therefore, if the hearts that hatch and bring forth lies be so much of complexion with the devil. Yea, no marvel though God and Christ have so bent their word against liars ; a liar is wedded to the devil him- self. Attentive. It seems a marvellous thing in mine eyes that since a lie is the offspring of the devil, and since a lie brings the soul to the very den of devils — to wit, the dark dungeon of hell — that men should be so desperately wicked as to accustom themselves to so hor- rible a thfng. Wiseman. It seems also marvellous to me, especially when I observe for how little a mat- ter some men will study, contrive, make, and tell a lie. You shall have some that will lie it over and over, and that for a penny profit ; yea, lie, and stand in it, although they know that they lie ; yea, you shall have some men that will not stick to tell lie after lie, though themselves get nothing thereby. They will tell lies in their ordinary discourse with their neighbours ; also their news, their jests, and their tales must needs be adorned with lies, or else they seem to bear no good sound to the ■ear, nor show much to the fancy of him to whom they are told. But, alas! what will these liars do when for their lies they shall be 'tumbled down into hell, to that devil that did ■ beget those lies in their heart, and so be tor- mented by fire and brimstone with him, and that for ever and ever, for their lies ? Attentive. Can you not give one some ex- amples of God’s judgments upon liars, that one may tell them to liars when one hears them lie, if perhaps they may by the hearing thereof be made afraid and ashamed to lie? Wiseman. Examples! Why, Ananias and his wife are examples enough to put a stop, one would think, to a spirit addicted thereto, for they both were stricken down dead for tell- ing a lie, and that by God himself, in the midst of a company of people. But if God’s threat- ening of liars with hell-fire and with the loss of the kingdom of heaven will not prevail with them to leave off to lie and make lies, it cannot be imagined that a relation of temporal judgments that have swept liars out of the world heretofore should do it. Now, as I said, this lying was one of the first sins that Mr. Badman was addicted to, and he could make them and tell them fearfully. Attentive. I am sorry to hear this of him, and so much the more because, as I fear, this sin did not reign in him alone; for usually one that is accustomed to lying is also accustomed to other evils besides; and if it were not so also with Mr. Badman, it would indeed be a wonder. Wiseman. You say true: the liar is a cap- tive slave of more than the spirit of lying; and therefore this Mr. Badman, as he was a liar from a child, so he was also much given to pilfer and steal: so that what he could, as we say, handsomely lay his hands on, that was counted his own, whether they were the things of his fellow-children, or if he could lay hold of any thing at a neighbour’s house he would take it away; you must understand me of trifles, for, being yet but a child, he attempted no great matter, especially at first. But yet as he grew up in strength and ripeness of wit, so he attempted to pilfer and steal things still of more value than at first. He took at last great pleasure in robbing of gardens and orchards, and as he grew up to steal pullen from the neighbourhood; yea, what was his father’s could not escape his fingers ; all was fish that came to his net, so hardened at last was he in this mischief also. Attentive. You make me wonder more and more. What! play the thief too! What! play the thief so soon! He could not but know, though he was but a child, that what he took from others was none of his own. Be- sides, if his father was a good man, as you say, LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA DM AN. 491 it could not be but lie must also hear from him that to steal was to transgress the law of God, and so to run the hazard of eternal damnation. Wiseman. Ilis father was not wanting to use the means to reclaim him, often urging, as I have been told, that saying in the law of Moses, “Thou shalt not steal;” and also that, “ That is the curse that gocth forth over the face of the whole earth, for every one that stealeth shall be cut oil’” &c. The light of nature also, though ho was little, must needs show him that what he took from others was not his own, and that he would not willingly have been served so himself. But all was to no purpose ; let father and conscience say what they would to him, he would go on, he was resolved to go on, in his wickedness. Attentive. But his father would, as you inti- mate, sometimes rebuke him for his wicked- ness; pray how would he carry it then? Wiseman. How! why, like a thief that is found. He would stand gloating and hanging down his head in a sullen, pouching manner, (a body might read, as we used to say, the pic- ture of ill luck in his face,) and when his father did demand his answer to such ques- tion concerning his villainy, he would grum- ble and mutter at him, and that should be all that he could get. Attentive. But you said that he would also rob his father; methinks that was an unnatural thing. Wiseman. Natural or unnatural, all is one to a thief. Besides, you must think that he had likewise companions to whom he was, for the wickedness that he saw in them, more firmly knit than either to father or mother. Yea, and what had he cared if father and mother had died of grief for him? Their death would have been, as he would have counted, great release and liberty to him; for the truth is, they and their counsel was his bondage; yea, and if I forget not, I have heard some say that when he was at times among his com- panions he would greatly rejoice to think that his parents were old and could not live long, and then, quoth he, I shall be mine own man, to do what I list without their control. Attentive. Then it seems he counted that robbing of his parents was no crime? Wiseman. None at all; and therefore he fell directly under that sentence, “Whoso robbeth his father or his mother, and saith it is no transgression, the same is the companion of a destroyer.” And for that he set so light by them as to their persons and counsels, it was a sign that at present he was of a very abom- inable spirit, and that some judgment awaited to take hold of him in time to come. Attentive. But can you imagine what it was — I mean, in his conceit, (for I speak not now of the suggestions of Satan, by which doubtless lie was put on to do these things,) — I say, what it should be in his conceit that should make him think that this his manner of pilfering and stealing was no great matter? Wiseman. It was for that the things that he stole were small: to rob orchards and gar- dens, and to steal pullen and the like, these he counted tricks of youth, nor would he be beat out of it by all that his friends could say. They would tell him that he must not covet or desire (and yet to desire is less than to take) even any thing, the least thing, that was his neighbour’s, and that if he did it would be a transgression of the law; but all was one to him; what through the wicked talk of his companions and the delusion of his own cor- rupt heart, he would go on in his pilfering course, and where he thought himself secure would talk of and laugh at it when he had done. Attentive. Well, I heard a man once, when he was upon the ladder with a rope about his neck, confess (when ready to be turned off' by the hangman) that that which had brought him to that end was his accustoming of him- self, when young, to pilfer and steal small things. To my best remembrance he told us that he began the trade of a thief by stealing of pins and of points ; and therefore did fore- warn all the youth that then were gathered together to see him die to take heed of begin- ning, though but with little sins, because by tampering at first with little ones way is made for the commission of bigger. Wiseman. Since you are entered upon stories, I also will tell you one ; the which, though I heard it not with mine own ears, yet my author I dare believe. It is concerning one old Tod, that was hanged about twenty years ago or more at Hertford for being a thief. The story is this : At a summer assizes holden at Hertford, while the judge was sitting upon the bench, comes this old Tod into the court, clothed in a green suit, with his leathern girdle in his hand, his bosom open, and all on a muck of sweat, as if he had run for his life ; and being come in, he spake aloud as follows. My lord, said he, here is the veriest rogue that breathes upon the face of the earth. I have been a thief 492 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. from a child ; when I was hut a little one I gave myself to rob orchards and to do other such like wicked things, and I have continued a thief ever since. My lord, there has not been a robbery committed these many years, within so many miles of this place, but I have either been at it or privy to it. -The judge thought this fellow was mad, but after some conference with some of the justices they agreed to indict him ; and so they did of several felonious actions, to all which he heartily confessed guilty, and so was hanged with his wife at the same time. Attentive. This is a remarkable story indeed, and you think it is a true one ? Wiseman. It is not only remarkable, but pat to our purpose. This thief, like Mr. Badman, began his trade betimes ; he began, too, where Mr. Badman began, even at robbing of orchards and other such things, which brought him, as you may perceive, from sin to sin, till at last it brought him to the public shame of sin, which is the gallows. As for the truth of this story, the relater told me that he was at the same time himself in the court, and stood within less than two yards of old Tod when he heard him aloud to utter the words. Attentive. These two sins of lying and steal- ing were a bad sign of an evil end. Wiseman. So they were ; and yet Mr. Bad- man came not to his end like old Tod, though I fear to as bad, nay, worse than was that death of the gallows, though less discerned by spectators ; but more of that by and by. But you talk of these two sins as if these were all that Mr. Badman was addicted to in his youth. Alas, alas ! he swarmed with sins, even as a beggar does with vermin, and that when he was a hoy. Attentive. Why, what other sins was he addicted to — I mean while he was but a child? Wiseman. You need not ask to what other sins was he, but to what other sins was he not, addicted — that is, of such as suited with his age; for a man may safely say that nothing that was vile came amiss to him if he was but capable to do it. Indeed, some sins there be that childhood knows not howto be tampering with ; but I speak of sins that he was capable of committing, of which I will nominate two or three more. And, first. He could not endure the Lord’s day, because of the holiness that did attend it ; the beginning of that day was to him as if he was going to prison, (except he could get out from his father and mother, and lurk in by- holes among his companions until holy duties were over.) Beading the Scriptures, hearing sermons, godly conference, repeating of ser- mons and prayer were things that he could not away with ; therefore, if his father on such days (as often he did, though sometimes not- withstanding his diligence he would be sure to give him the slip) did keep him strictly to the observation of the day', he would plainly show by all carriages that he was highly discontent therewith; he would sleep at duties, would talk vainly with his brothers, and, as it were, think every godly opportunity seven times as long as it was, grudging till it was over. Attentive. This his abhorring of that day was not, I think, for the sake of the day itself, for as it is a day it is nothing else but as other days of the week ; but I suppose that the rea- son of his loathing of it was for that God hath put sanctity and holiness upon it, also because it is the day above all the days of the week that ought to be spent in holy devotion, in re- membrance of our Lord’s resurrection from the dead. Wiseman. Yes, it was therefore that he was such an enemy to it, even because more re- straint was laid upon him on that day from his own ways than were possible should be laid, upon him on all others. Attentive. Doth not God, by instituting of a day unto holy duties, make great proof how the hearts and inclinations of poor people do stand to holiness of heart and a conversation in holy duties? Wiseman. Yes, doubtless ; and a man shall show his heart and his life, what they are, more by one Lord’s day than by all the days of the week besides; and the reason is, because on the Lord’s day there is a special restraint laid upon man, as to thoughts and life, more than upon other days of the week besides. Also, men are enjoined on that day to a stricter perform- ance of holy duties, and restraint of worldly business, than upon other days they are; wherefore, if their hearts incline not naturally to good, now they will show it, now they will appear what they are. The Lord’s day is a kind of an emblem of the heavenly Sabbath above, and it makes manifest how the heart stands to the perpetuity of holiness, more than to be found in a transient duty does. On other days a man may be in and out of holy duties, and all in a quarter of an hour ; but now, the Lord’s day is, as it were, a day LIFE AND DEATH that enjoins to one perpetual duty of holiness — “ Remember that thou keep holy the Sab- bath-day,” (which by Christ is not abrogated, but changed into the first of the week;) not as it was given in particular to the Jews, but as it was sanctified by him from the beginning of the world — and therefore is a great proof of the frame and temper of a man’s heart, and does more make manifest to what he is in- clined than doth his other performance of duties; therefore God puts great difference between them that truly call (and walk in) this day as holy and count it honourable, upon the account that now they have an opportu- nity to show how they delight to honour him, in that they have not only an hour, but a whole day to show it in ; — I say, he puts great difference between these and that other sort that say, When will the Sabbath be gone, that we may be at Our worldly business ? The first he calleth a blessed man, but brandeth the other for an unsanctified worldling. And in- deed, to delight ourselves in God’s service upon his holy days gives a better proof of a sanctified nature than to grudge at the coming and to be weary of the holy duties of such days, as Mr. Badman did. Attentive. There may be something in what you say, for he that cannot abide to keep one day holy to God, to be sure he hath given a sufficient proof that he is an unsanctified man; and as such what should he do in heaven, that being the place where a per- petual sabbath is to be kept to God? — I say, to be kept for ever and ever. And for aught I know, one reason why one day in seven hath been by our Lord set apart unto holy duties for men may be to give them convic- tion that there is enmity in the hearts of sin- ners to the God of heaven, for he that hateth holiness hateth God himself. They pretend to love God, and yet love not a holy day, and yet love not to spend that day in one continued act of holiness to the Lord ; they had as good say nothing as to call him, Lord, Lord ! and yet not do the things that he says. And this Mr. Badman was such a one; he could not abide this day nor any of the duties of it. Indeed, when he could get from his friends, and so spend it in all manner of idleness and profaneness, then he would be pleased well enough ; but what was this but a turning the day into night, or other than taking an opportu- nity, at God’s forbidding to follow our callings, to solace and satisfy our lusts and delights of the flesh ? I take the liberty to speak thus of OF MR. IiA DMA N. 493 Mr. Badman, upon a confidence of what you, sir, have said of him is true. Wiseman. You need not to have made that apology for your censuring of Mr. Badman, for all that knew him will confirm what you say of him to be true. He could not abide cither that day or any thing else that had the stamp or image of God upon it. Sin, sin, and to do the thing that was naught, was that which he delighted in, and that from a little child. Attentive. I must say again, I am sorry to hear it, and that for his own sake, and also for the sake of his relations, who must needs be broken to pieces with such doings as these ; for, for these things’ sake comes the wrath of God upon the children of disobedience; and doubtless he must be gone to hell if he died without repentance ; and to beget a child for hell is sad for parents to think on. Wiseman. Of his dying, as I told you, I will give you a relation anon ; but now we are upon his life, and upon the manner of his life in his childhood, even of the sins that attended him then, some of which I have mentioned already; and indeed I have men- tioned but some, for yet there are more to fol- low, and those not at all inferior to what you have already heard. Attentive. Pray what were they? Wiseman. Why, he was greatly given, and that while a lad, to grievous swearing and cursing; yea, he then made no more of swear- ing and cursing than I do of telling my fin-* gers ; yea, he would do it without provocation thereto. Pie counted it a glory to swear and curse, and it was as natural to him as to eat, and drink, and sleep. Attentive. Oh what a young villain was this ! Here is, as the apostle says, a yielding of members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin indeed : this is proceeding from evil to evil with a witness; this argueth that he was a black-mouthed young wretch indeed. Wiseman. He was so; and yet, as I told you, he counted above all this kind of sinning to be a badge of his honour; he reckoned himself a man’s fellow when he had learned to swear and curse boldly. Attentive. I am persuaded that many do think, as you have said, that to swear is a thing that does bravely become them, and that it is the best way for a man, when he would put authority or terror to his words, to stuff them full of the sin of swearing. iTfVe/aan. You say right, else, as I am per 494 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. suaded, men would not so usually belch out their blasphemous oaths as they do ; they take a pride in it; they think that to swear is gen- tlemanlike; and having once accustomed themselves unto it, they hardly leave it all the days of their lives. Attentive. Well, but now we are upon it, pray show me the difference between swearing and cursing ; for there is a difference, is there not? Wiseman. Yes, there is a difference between swearing and cursing — swearing, vain swear- ing, such as young Badinan accustomed him- self unto. Now vain and sinful swearing is a light and wicked calling of God, &c., to wit- ness to our vain and foolish attesting of things, and those things are of two sorts : 1. Things that we swear are or shall be done. 2. Things so sworn to, true or false. 1. Things that we swear are or shall be done. Thou swearest thou hast done such a thing, that such a thing is so or shall he so ; for it is no matter which of these it is that men swear about : if it be done lightly, and wickedly, and groundlessly it is vain, because it is a sin against the third commandment, which says, “Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain.” For this is a vain using of that holy and sacred name, and so a sin for which, without sound repentance, there is not nor can be rightly expected forgiveness. Attentive. Then it seems though as to the matter of fact a man swears truly, yet if he sweareth lightly and groundlessly his oath is evil, and he by it under sin ? Wiseman. Yes, a man may say, “The Lord liveth,” and that is true, and yet in so saying swear falsely, because he sweareth vainly, needlessly, and without a ground. To swear groundedly and necessarily, (which then a man does when he swears as being called thereto of God,) that is tolerated by the word ; but this was none of Mr. Badman’s swearing, and therefore that which now we are not concerned about. * Attentive. I perceive by the prophet that a man inay sin in swearing to the truth ; they therefore must needs most horribly sin that swear to confirm their jests and lies, and, as they think, the better to beautify their foolish talking. Wiseman. They sin with an high hand, for they presume to imagine that God is as wicked as themselves — to wit, that he is an avoucher of lies to be true. For, as I said before, to swear is to call God to witness ; and to sweai to a lie is to call God to witness that that lie is true. This therefore must needs offend, for it puts the highest affront upon the holiness and righteousness of God; therefore his wrath must sweep them away. This kind of swearing is put in with lying, and killing, and stealing, and committing adultery, and therefore must not go unpunished ; for if “ God will not hold him guiltless that taketh his name in vain,” which a man may do when he swears to a truth, (as I have showed before,) how can it be imagined that he should hold such guiltless who by swearing will appeal to God if lies be not true, or that swear out of their frantic and bedlam madness? It would grieve and pro- voke a sober man to wrath if one should swear to a notorious lie, and avouch that that man would attest it for a truth, and yet thus do men deal with the holy God. They tell their jest- ings, tales, and lies, and then swear by God that they are true. Now this kind of swearing was as common with young Badman as it was to eat when he was an hungered or to go to bed when it was night. Attentive. I have often mused in my mind what it should be that should make men so common in the use of the sin of swearing, since those that be wise will believe them never the sooner for that. ' Wiseman. It cannot be anything that is good, you may be sure, because the thing itself is abominable. 1. Therefore it must be from promptings of the spirit of the devil within them. 2. Also it flows sometimes from hellish rage, when the tongue hath set on fire of hell even the whole course of nature. 3. But, commonly, swearing flows from that daring boldness that biddeth defiance to the law that forbids it. 4. Swearers think also that by their belching of their blasphemous oaths out of their black and polluted mouths they show themselves the more valiant men. 5. And im- agine also that by these outrageous kind of villainies they shall conquer those that at such a time they have to do with, and make them believe their lies to be true. They also swear frequently to get gain thereby, and when they meet with fools they overcome them this way. But, if I might give advice in this matter, no buyer should lay out one farthing with him that is a conimon swearer in his calling, espe- cially with such an oath-master that endeav- oureth to swear away his commodity to another, and that would swear his chapman’s money into his own pocket. LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 495 Attentive. All these causes of swearing, so far as I can perceive, flow from the same root as do the oaths themselves, even from a hard- ened and desperate heart. But pray show me now how wicked cursing is to he distinguished from this kind of swearing. Wiseman. Swearing, as I said, hath imme- diately to do with the name of God, and it calls upon him to be witness of the truth of what is said — that is, if they that swear, swear by him. Some indeed swear by idols, as by the mass, by Our Lady, by saints, beasts, birds, and other creatures, but the usual .way of our profane ones in England is to swear by God, Christ, faith, and the like. But however or by whatever they swear, cursing is distinguished from swearing thus : To curse, to curse profanely, it is to sentence another or ourself for or to evil, or to wish that some evil might happen to the person or thing under the curse unjustly. 1. It is to sentence for or to evil — that is, without a cause; thus Shimei cursed David; he sentenced him for and to evil unjustly when he said to him, “ Come out, come out, thou bloody man, and thou man of Belial. The Lord hath returned upon thee all the blood of the house of Saul, in whose stead thou hast reigned, and the Lord hath delivered the king- dom into the hand of Absalom thy son ; and behold thou art taken in thy mischief, because thou art a bloody man.” This David calls a grievous curse. “ And behold,” saith he to Solomon his son, “ thou hast with thee Shimei, a Bcnjamitc, which cursed me with a grievous curse when I went to Mahanaim.” But what was this curse? Why — 1. It was a wrong sentence passed upon David ; Shimei called him “bloody man, man of Belial,” when he was not. 2. He sentenced him to the evil that at present was upon him for being a bloody man — that is, against the house of Saul — when that present evil overtook David for quite another thing. And we may thus apply it to the profane ones of our times, who in their rage and envy have little else in their mouths but a sentence against their neighbour for and to evil un- justly'. How common it is with many, when they are but a little offended with one, to cry, Hang him ! Damn him, rogue ! This is both a sentencing of him for and to evil, and is in itself a grievous curse. 2. The other kind of cursing is to wish that some evil might happen to and overtake this or that person or thing; and this kind of cursing Job counted a grievous sin. “ I have not suffered,” says he, “ my mouth to sin by wishing a curse to his soul,” or consequently to body or estate. This, then, is a wicked cursing, to wish that evil might either befall another or ourselves; and this kind of cursing young Badman accustomed himself unto. 1. lie would wish that evil might befall others; he would wish their necks broken, or that their brains were out, or that the pox or the plague was upon them, and the like; all which is a devilish kind of cursing, and is be- come one of the common sins of our age. 2. He would also as often wish a curse to himself, saying, Would I might be hanged, or burned, or that the devil might fetch me, if it be not so or the like. We count the Damn- me blades to be great swearers, but when in their hellish fury they say, God damn me 1 God perish me 1 or the like, they rather curse than swear; yea, curse themselves, and that with a wish that damnation might light upon themselves; which wish and curse of theirs in a little time they will see accomplished upon them, even in hell-fire, if they repent them not of their sins. Attentive. But did this young Badman ac- custom himself to such filthy kind of language? Wiseman. I think I may say that nothing was more frequent in his mouth, and that upon the least provocation. Yea, he was so versed in such kind of language that neither father, nor mother, nor brother, nor sister, nor ser- vant, no, nor the very cattle that his father had, could escape these curses of his. I say, that even the brute beasts when he drove them or rid upon them, if they pleased not his humour, they must be sure to partake of his curse. He would wish their necks broke, their legs broke, their guts out, or that the devil might fetch them, or the like ; and no marvel, for he that is so hardy as to wish damnation or other bad curses to himself or dearest rela- tions, would not stick to wish evil to the silly beasts in his madness. Attentive. Well, I see still that this Badman was a desperate villain. But pray, sir, since you have gone thus far, now show me whence this evil of cursing ariseth, and also what dis- honour it bringeth to God, for I easily discern that it doth bring damnation to the soul. Wiseman. This evil of cursing ariseth, in general, from the desperate wickedness of the heart, but particularly from — 1. Envy, which is, as I apprehend, the leading sin to witch- craft. 2. It also ariseth from pride, which was 496 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the sin of the fallen angels. 3. It ariseth too from scorn and contempt of others. 4. But for a man to curse himself must needs arise from desperate madness. The dishonour that it bringeth to God is this : It taketh away from him his authority, in whose power it is only to bless and curse ; not to curse wickedly, as Mr. Badman, but justly, righteously, giving by his curse to those that are wicked the due reward of their deeds. Besides, these wicked men, in their wicked cursing of their neighbour, &c., do even curse God himself in his handiwork. Man is God’s image, and to curse wickedly the image of God is to curse God himself. Therefore, as when men wickedly swear they rend and tear God’s name, and make him, as much as in them lies, the avoucher and approver of all their wicked- ness, so he that curseth 'and condemneth in this sort his neighbour,, or that wisheth him evil, curseth and condemneth and wisheth evil to the image of God, and consequently judgeth and condemneth God himself. Suppose that a man should say with his mouth, I wish that the king’s picture was burned, would not this man’s so saying render him as an enemy to the person of the king? Even so it is with them that by cursing wish evil to their neighbour or to themselves ; they contemn the image, even the image of God himself. Attentive. But do you think that the men that do thus do think that they do so vilely, so abominably ? Wiseman. The question is not what men do believe concerning their sin, but what God’s word says to it. If God’s word says that swear- ing and cursing are sins, though men should ■count them for virtues, their reward will be a reward for sin — to wit, the damnation of the ■soul. To curse another and to swear vainly and falsely are sins against the light of nature. 1. To curse is so, because whoso curseth an- other knows that at the same time he would not be so served himself. 2. To swear also is a sin against the same law, for nature will tell me that I should not lie, and , therefore much less swear to confirm it. Yea, the heathens have looked upon swear- ing to be a solemn ordinance of God, and therefore not to be lightly or vainly used by men, though to confirm a matter of truth. Attentive. But I wonder, since cursing and ■swearing are such evils, in the eyes of God, that he doth not make some examples to others for their committing such wickedness. Wiseman. Alas ! so he has a thousand times twice told, as may be easily gathered by any observing people in every age and country. I could present you with several myself, but waiving the abundance that might be men- tioned, I will here present you with two : One was that dreadful judgment of God upon one N. P. at Wimbledon, in Surrey, who, after a horrible fit of swearing at and cursing of some persons that did not please him, suddenly fell sick and iij a little time died, raving, cursing, and swearing. But, above all, take that dreadful story of Dorothy Mately, an inhabitant of Ashover in the county of Derby. This Dorothy Mately, said the relater, was noted by the people of the town to be a great swearer, and curser, and liar, and thief, (just like Mr. Badman ;) and the labour that she usually did follow was to wash the rubbish that came forth of the lead mines, and there to get sparks of lead ore ; and her usual way of asserting of things was with these kind of imprecations: I would I might sink into the earth if it be not so, or I would God would make the earth open and swallow me up. Now upon the 23d of March, 1660, this Doro- thy was washing of ore upon the top of a steep hill, about a quarter of a mile from Ashover, and was there taxed by a lad for tak- ing of two single pence out of his pocket, (for he had laid his breeches by and was at work in his drawers,) but she violently denied it, wishing that the ground might swallow her up if she had them. She also used the same wicked words on several other occasions that day. Now, one George Hodgkinson of Ashover, a man of good report there, came accidentally by where this Dorothy was, and stood still a while to talk with her as she was washing her ore ; there stood also a little child by her tub- side, and another a distance from her, call- ing aloud to her to come away ; wherefore the said George took the girl by the hand to lead her away to her that called her: but behold, they had not gone above ten yards from Dor- othy but they heard her crying out for help; so, looking back, he saw the woman and her tub and sieve twirling round and sinking into the ground. Then said the man, Pray to God to pardon thy sin, for thou art never like to be seen alive any longer. So she and her tub twirled round and round, till they sunk about LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADMAN. 497 three yards into the earth, and then for awhile stayed. Then she called for help agnin, think- ing, as she said, that'she should stay there. Now the man, though greatly amazed, did be- gin to think which way to help her; but im- mediately a great stone, which appeared in the earth, fell upon her head and broke her skull, and then the earth fell in upon her and covered her. She was afterwards digged up, and found about four yards within ground, with the boy’s two single pence in her pocket, but her tub and sieve could not be found. Attentive. You bring to my mind a sad story, the which I will relate unto you. The thing is this: About a bowshot from where I once dwelt there was a blind alehouse, and the man that kept it had a son whose name was Ed- ward. This Edward was, as it were, an half fool, both in his words and manner of beha- viour. To this blind alehouse certain jovial companions would once or twice a week come, and this Ned (for so they called him) his fa- ther would entertain his guests withal — to wit, by calling for him to make them sport by his foolish words and gestures. So when these boon-blades came to this man’s house, the fa- ther would call for Ned ; Ned therefore would come forth, and the poor wretch was devilishly addicted to cursing, yea, to cursing his father and mother and any one else that crossed him. And because (though he was an half fool) he saw that his practice was pleasing, he would do it with the more audaciousness. Well, when these brave fellows did come at their times to this tippling-house (as they call it) to fuddle and make merry, then must Ned be called out; and because his father was best acquainted with Ned, and best knew how to provoke him, therefore he would usually ask him such questions or command him such business as would be sure to provoke him in- deed. Then would he (after his foolish man- ner) curse his father most bitterly; at which the bid man would laugh, (aud so would the rest of the guests, as at that which pleased them best,) still continuing to ask that Ned might be provoked to curse, that they might still be provoked to laugh. This was the mirth with which the old man did use to en- tertain his guests. The curses wherewith this Ned did use to curse his father, and at which the old man would laugh, were these and such like : The devil take you ! The devil fetch you ! He would also wish him plagues and destructions many. Well, so it came to pass, through the 32 righteous judgment of God, that Ned’s wishes and curses were in a little time fulfilled upon his father ; for not many months passed be- tween them after this manner but the devil did indeed take him, possess him, and also in a few days carried him out of this world by death. I say, Satan did take him and possess him ; I mean, so it was judged by those that knew him and had to do with him in that his la- mentable condition. He could feel him like a live thing go up and down in his body, but when tormenting-time was come, (as he had often tormenting fits,) then he would lie like an hard lump in the soft place of his chest, (I mean I saw it so,) and would so rend and tear him and make him roar till he died away. I told you before that I was an ear and eye witness of what I here say, and so I was. I have heard Ned in his roguery cursing his fa- ther, and his father laughing thereat most heartily, still provoking Ned to curse, that his mirth might be increased. I saw his father also when be was possessed ; I saw him in one of his fits, and saw his flesh (as it was thought) by the devil gathered up on an heap about the bigness of an half egg, to the unutterable tor- ture and affliction of the old man. There was also one Freeman (who was more than an ordinary doctor) sent for to cast out this devil, and I was there when he attempted to do it ; the manner thereof was this: They had the possessed into an outer room, and laid him ou his belly upon a form, with his head hanging over the form’s end : then they bound him down thereto; which done, they set a pan of coals under his mouth, and put something therein which made a great smoke, by this means (as it was said) to fetch out the devil. There, therefore, they kept the man till he was almost smothered in the smoke, but no devil came out of him; at which Freeman was somewhat abashed, the man greatly afflicted, and I made to go away wondering and fearing. In a little time, therefore, that which possessed the man carried him out of the world, accord- ing to the cursed wishes of his son. And this was the end of this hellish mirth. Wiseman. These were all sad judgments. Attentive. These were dreadful judgments indeed. Wiseman. Ay, and they look like the threat- enings of that text, (though chiefly it con- cerned Judas,) “ As he loved cursing, so let it come unto him ; as he delighted not in bless- ing, so let it be far from him ; as he clothed himself with cursing as with a garment, so let 498 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. it come into his bowels like water and as oil into his bones.” Attentive. It is a fearful thing for youth to be trained up in a way of cursing and swearing. Wiseman. Trained up in them ! That I cannot say Mr. Badman was, for his father hath ofttimes in my hearing bewailed the badness of his children, and of this naughty boy in particular. I believe the wickedness of his children made him, in the thoughts of it, go many a night with a heavy heart to bed, and with as heavy a one to rise in the morn- ing. But all was one to his graceless son ; neither wholesome counsel nor fatherly sor- row would make him mend his manners. There are some indeed that do train up their children to swear, curse, lie, and steal, and great is the misery of such poOr children whose hard hap it is to be ushered into the world by, and to be under the tuition too, of such ungodly parents. It had been better for such parents had they not begat them, and better for such children had they never been born. Oh, methinks for a father or mother to train up a child in that very way that leadeth to hell and damnation, what thing so horri- ble ! But Mr. Badman was not by his parents so brought up. Attentive. But methinks, since this young Badman would not be ruled at home, his father should have tried what good could have been done of him abroad by putting him out to some man of his acquaintance that he knew to be able to command him and to keep him pretty hard to some employ ; so should he at least have been prevented of time to do those wickednesses that could not be done without time to do them in. Wiseman. Alas ! his father did so ; he put him out betimes to one of his own acquaint- ance, and entreated him of all love that he would take care of his son and keep him from extravagant ways. His trade also was honest and commodious ; he had besides a full employ therein, so that this young Badman had no vacant seasons nor idle hours yielded him by his calling, therein to take opportunities to do badly ; but all was one to him : as he had begun to be vile in his father’s house, even so he continued to be when he was in the house of his master. Attentive. I have known some children who, though they have been very bad at home, yet have altered much when they have been put out abroad, especially when they have fallen into a family where the governors thereof have made conscience of maintaining the worship and service of God therein ; but per- haps that might be wanting in Mr. Badman’s master's house. Wiseman. Indeed some children do greatly mend when put under other men’s roofs, but, as I said, this naughty boy did not so, tor did his badness continue because he wanted a master that both could and did correct it, for his master was a very good man, a very devout person, one that frequented the best soul- means, that set up the worship of God in his family, and also that walked himself there- after. He was also a man very meek and merciful, one that did never outdrive young Badman in business, nor that kept him at it at unseasonable hours. Attentive. Say you so ? This is rare. I, for my part, can see but few that can parallel in these things with Mr. Badman’s master. Wiseman. Nor I neither, (yet Mr. Badman had such an one,) for, for the most part, mas- ters are now-a-days such as mind nothing but their worldly concerns, and if apprentices do but answer their commands therein, soul and religion may go whither they will. Yea, I much fear that there have been many to- wardly lads put out by their parents to such masters that have quite undone them as to the next world. Attentive. The more is the pity. But pray, now you have touched upon this subject, show me how many ways a master may be the ruin of his poor apprentice. Wiseman. Nay, I cannot tell you of all the ways, yet some of them I will mention. Suppose then a towardly lad be put to be an apprentice with one that is reputed. to be a godly man, yet that lad may be ruined many ways — that is, if his master be not circumspect in all things that respect both God and man, and that before his apprentice. 1. If he be not moderate in the use of his apprentice ; if he drive him beyond his strength ; if he holds him to work at un- seasonable hours ; if he will not allow him convenient time to read the word, to pray, &c. : this is the way to destroy him — that is, in those tender beginnings of good thoughts and good beginnings about spiritual things. 2. If he suffers his house to be scattered with profane and wicked books, such as stir up to lust, to wantonness, such as teach idle, wanton, lascivious discourse, and such as have a tendency to provoke to profane drollery and LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADMAN. 499 jesting; and, lastly, such as tend to corrupt and pervert the doctrine of faith and holiness. All these things will eat as doth a canker, and will quickly spoil in youth, &c., those good be- ginnings that maybe putting forth themselves in them. 3. If there be a mixture of servants — that is, if some very bad be in the same place — that is a way also to undo such tender lads ; for they that are bad and sordid servants will be often (and they have an opportunity to be) distilling and fomenting of their profane and wicked words and tricks before them, and these will easily stick in the flesh and minds of youth, to the corrupting of them. 4. If the master have one guise for abroad and another for home — that is, if his religion hangs in his house as liis cloak does, and he be seldom in it except he be abroad — this young beginners will take notice of and stum- ble at. We say hedges have eyes and little pitchers have ears ; and indeed children make a greater inspection into the lives of fathers, masters, &e., than ofttimes they are aware of; and therefore should masters be careful, else they may soon destroy good beginnings in their servants. 5. If the master be unconscionable in his dealing and trades with lying words, or if bad commodities be avouched to be good, or if he seeks after unreasonable gain or the like, his servant sees it, and it is enough to undo him. ‘ Eli’s sons being bad before the congregation made men despise the sacrifice of the Lord.” But these things by the by ; only they may serve for a hint to masters to take heed that they take not apprentices to destroy their souls. But young Badman had none of these hindrances; his father took care and provided well for him as to this ; he had a good master, he wanted not good books, nor good instruc- tions, nor good sermons, nor good examples, nor good fellow-servants neither ; but all would not do. Attentive. It is a wonder that in such a family, amidst so many spiritual helps, noth- ing should take hold of his heart. What ! not good books, nor good instructions, nor good sermons, nor good examples, nor good fellow- servants, nor nothing do him good? IVtsmaa. He minded none of these things; nay, all these were abominable to him. 1. For good books, they might lie in his master’s house till they rotted, for him ; he would not regard to look into them, but, con- trariwise, would get all the bad and abominable books that he could, as beastly romances and books full of ribaldry, even such as tended to set all fleshly lusts on fire. True, he durst not be known to have any of these to his master; therefore would he never let them be seen by him, but would keep them in close places, and peruse them at such times as yielded him fit opportunities thereto. 2. For good instruction, he liked that much as he liked good books ; his care was to hear but little thereof, and to forget what he had heard as soon as it was spoken ; yea, I have heard some that knew him then say that one might evidently discern by the show of his countenance and gestures that good counsel was to him like little ease, even a continual torment to him ; nor did he ever count himself at liberty but when farthest off of wholesome words. He would hate them that rebuked him, and count them his deadly enemies. 3. For good example, which was frequently set him by his master both in religious and civil matters, these young Badman would laugh at, and would also make a by-word of them when he came in place where he with safety could. 4. His master indeed would make him go with him to sermons, and that where lie thought the best preachers were, but this un- godly young man — what shall I say? — was, I think, a master of art in all mischief ; he had these wicked ways to hinder himself of hearing, let the preacher thunder never so loud. 1. His way was, when come into the place of hearing, to sit dowu in some corner and then to fall fast asleep ; 2. Or else to fix adulterous eyes upon some beautiful object that was in the place, and so all sermon-while wherewith be feeding his fleshly lusts ; 3. Or if he could get near to some that he observed would fit his humour, he would be whispering, giggling, and playing with them till such time as sermon was done. Attentive. Why he was grown to a prodigious height of wickedness ! Wise>nan. He was so; and that which aggra- vates all was, this was his practice as soon as he came to his master; he was ready at all these things, as if he had, before he came to his master, served an apprenticeship to learn them. Attentive. There could not but be added, as you relate them, rebellion to his sin. Methinks it is as if he had said, I will not hear, I will not regard, I will not mind good, I will not 500 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. mend, I will not turn, I will not be con- verted. Wiseman. You say true, and I know not to whom more fitly to compare him than to that man who, when I myself rebuked him for his wickedness, in this great huff replied, What would the devil do for company if it was not for such as I ? Attentive. Why, did you ever hear any man say so? Wiseman. Yes, that I did; and this young Badman was as like him as an egg is like an egg. Alas ! the Scripture makes mention of many that by their actions speak the same: “ They say unto God, Depart from us, for we desire not the knowledge of thy ways.” Again : “ They refuse to hearken, and pull away their shoulder, and stop their ears ; yea, they make their hearts hard as an adamant stone, lest they should hear the law, and the words that the Lord of hosts hath sent.” What are all these but such as Badman, and such as the young man but now mentioned ? That young man was my playfellow when I was solacing myself in my sins; I may make mention of him to my shame; but he has a great many fellows. Attentive. Young Badman w’as like him in- deed, and he trod his steps as if wickedness had been his very copy ; I mean, as to his des- perateness, for had he not been a desperate one, he would never have made you such a reply when you was rebuking of him for his sin. But when did you give him such a re- buke? Wiseman. Awhile after God had parted him and I, by calling of me, as I hope, by his grace, still leaving him in his sins ; and so far as I could ever gather, as he lived so he died, even as Mr. Badman did; but we will leave him and return again to our discourse. Attentive. Ha! poor obstinate sinners! Do they think that God cannot be even with them ? Wiseman. I do not know what they think, but I know what God has said — that as “ he cried and they would not hear, so they shall cry, and I will not hear, saith the Lord.” Doubtless there is a time coming when Mr. Badman shall cry for this. Attentive. But I wonder that he should be so expert in wickedness so soon. Alas ! he was but a stripling ; I suppose he was as yet not twenty. Wiseman. No, nor eighteen, neither, but (as with Ishmael, and with the children that mocked the prophet) the seeds of sin did put forth themselves betimes in him. Attentive. Well, he was as wicked a young man as commonly one shall hear of. Wiseman. You will say so when you know all. Attentive. All! I think here is a great all, but if there is more behind, pray let us hear it. Wiseman. Why then T will tell you that he had not been with his master much above a year and a half but he came acquainted with three young villains, who here shall be name- less, that taught him to add to his sin much of like kind, and he as aptly received their in- structions. One of them was chiefly given to uncleanness, another to drunkenness, and the third to purloining or stealing from his master. Attentive. Alas, poor wretch ! he was bad enough before, but these, I suppose, made him much worse. Wiseman. That they made him worse you may be sure of, for they taught him to be an arch, a chief one in all their ways. Attentive. It was an ill hap that he ever came acquainted with them. Wiseman. You must rather word it thus: It was the judgment of God that he did; that is, he came acquainted with them through the anger of God. He had a good master, and before him a good father; by these he had good counsel given him for months and years together, but his heart was set upon mischief; he loved wickedness more than to do good, even until his iniquity came to be hateful; therefore from the anger of God it was that these companions of his and he did at last so acquaint together. Says Paul, “They did not like to retain God in their knowledge;” and what follows ? — “ wherefore God gave them over (or up) to their own hearts’ lusts.” And again, “As for such as turn aside to their own crooked ways, the Lord shall lead them forth with the workers of iniquity.” This therefore was God’s hand upon him, that he might be de- stroyed, be damned, because he received not the love of the truth that he might be saved. He chose his delusions and deluders for him, even the company of base men, of fools, that he might be destroyed. Attentive. I cannot but think indeed that it is a great judgment of God for a man to be given up to the company of vile men ; for what are such but the devil’s decoys, even those by whom he draws the simple into his net? A whoremaster, a drunkard, a thief, what LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BAD MAN. 001 arc they but the devil’s baits, by which be catclieth others? Wiseman. You say right; but this young Badman was no simple one, if by simple you mean one uninstructed, for be had often good counsel given him; but if by simple you mean him that is a fool as to the true knowledge of and faitli in Christ, then he was a simple one indeed, for he chose death rather than life, and to live in continual opposition to God rather than to be reconciled unto him; according to that saying of the wise man, “The fools hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord.” And what judgment more dreadful can a fool be given up to than to be delivered into the hands of such men, that have skill to do nothing but to ripen sin and hasten its fin- ishing unto damnation? And therefore men should be afraid of offending God, because lie can in this manner punish them for their sins. I knew a man that once was, as I thought, hopefully awakened about his condition ; yea, I knew two that were so awakened; but in time they began to draw back and to incline again to their lusts; wherefore God gave them up to the company of three or four men that in less than three years’ time brought them roundly to the gallows, where they were hanged like dogs, because they refused to live like honest men. Attentive. But such men do not believe that thus to be given up of God is in judgment and anger; they rather take it to be their liberty, and do count it their happiness; they are glad that their cord is loosed and that the reins are on their neck ; they are glad that they may sin without control, and that they may choose such companions as can make them more expert in an evil way. Wiseman. Their judgment is therefore so much the greater, because thereto is added blindness of mind and hardness of heart in a wicked way. They are turned up to the way of death, but must not see to what place they are going. “ They must go as the ox to the slaughter, and as the fool to the correction of the stocks, till a dart strike through their liver, not knowing that it is for their life.” This, I say, makes their judgment double; they are given up of God for awhile to sport them- selves with that which will assuredly make them mourn at last, when their flesh and their body is consumed. These are those that Peter speaks of, that shall utterly perish in their own corruptions; these, I say, who count it pleasure to riot in the daytime, and that sport them- selves with their own deceiving, as natural brute beasts made to be taken and destroyed. Attentive. Well, but I pray now concerning these three villains that were young Badman’s companions; tell me more particularly how he carried it then. Wiseman. IIow he carried it! Why, lie did as they. I intimated so much before when I said they made him an arch, a chief one in their ways. First, He became a frequenter of taverns and tippling-houses, and would stay there until he was even as drunk as a beast. And if it was so that lie could not get out by day, he would, be sure, get out by night. Y’ea, he became so common a drunkard at last that he was taken notice of to be a drunkard even by all. Attentive. This was swinish, for drunkenness is so beastly a sin, a sin so much against na- ture, that I wonder that any that have but the appearance of men can give up themselves to so beastly, yea, worse than a beastly, thing. Wiseman. It is a swinish vanity indeed. I will tell you another story. There was a gen- tleman that had a drunkard to be his groom, and coming home one night very much abused with beer, his master saw it. Well, quoth his master within himself, I will let thee alone to- night, but to-morrow morning I will convince thee that thou art worse than a beast by the behaviour of my horse. So when morning was come he bids his man go and water bis horse, and so he did ; but coming up to his master, he commands him to water him again ; so the fellow rid into the water the second time, but bis master’s horse would now drink no more ; so the fellow came up and told his master. Then said his master, Thou drunken sot ! thou art far worse than my horse ; he will drink but to satisfy nature, but thou wilt drink to the abuse of nature ; be will drink but to re- fresh himself, but thou to thy hurt and dam- age; he will drink that he maybe more ser- viceable to his master, but thou till thou art incapable of serving either God or man. 0 thou beast ! how much art thou worse than the horse that thou ridest on ! Attentive. Truly, I think that his master served him right, for in doing as he did he showed him plainly, as he said, that he had not so much government of himself as his horse had of himself, and consequently that his beast did live more according to the law of bis nature by far than did bis man. But pray go on with what you have further to say. 502 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Wiseman. Why, I say that there are four things which, if they are well considered, would make drunkenness to he abhorred in the thoughts of the children of men : 1. It greatly tendeth to impoverish and beg- gar a man. “ The drunkard,” says Solomon, “ shall come to poverty.” Many that have be- gun the world with plenty have gone out of it in rags through drunkenness. Yea, many children that have been born to good estates have yet been brought to a flail and a rake thrergh this beastly sin of their parents. 2. The sin of drunkenness, it bringeth upon tlie body many great and incurable diseases, by which men do in little time come to their end, and none can help them. So because they are overmuch wicked, therefore they die before their time. 3. Drunkenness is a sin that is oftentimes attended with abundance of other evils: “Who hath woe? who hath sorrow? who hath con- tentions? who hath babblings? who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness of eyes? They that tarry long at the wine, they that go to seek mixed wine;” that is, the drunkard. 4. By drunkenness men do oftentimes shorten their days, go out of the alehouse drunk, and break their necks before they come home. In- stances not a few might be given of this, but this is so manifest that a man need say noth- ing. Attentive. But that which is worse than all is, it also prepares men for everlasting burn- ings. Wiseman. Yea, and it so stupefies and besots the soul that a man that is far gone in drunk- enness is hardly ever recovered to God. Tell me, when did you see an old drunkard con- verted? No, no ; such an one will sleep till he dies, though he sleeps on the top of a mast ; let his dangers be never so great, and death and damnation never so near, he will not be awaked out of his sleep. So that if a man have any respect either to credit, health, life, or salvatiofl he will not be a drunken man. But the truth is, where this sin gets the upper hand men are, as I said before, so intoxicated and bewitched with the seeming pleasures and sweetness thereof that they have neither heart nor mind to think of that which is better in itself, and would, if embraced, do them good. Attentive. You said that drunkenness tends to poverty, yet some make themselves rich by drunken bargains. Wiseman. I said so because the word says so. And as to some men’s getting thereby, that is indeed but rare and base; yea, and base will be the end of such gettings. The word of God is against such ways, and the curse of God will be the end of such doings. An inheritance may sometimes thus be hastily gotten at the beginning, but the end thereof shall not be blessed. Hark what the prophet saith : “ Woe to him that coveteth an evil covetousness, that sets his nest on high !” whether he makes drunkenness or aught else the engine or decoy to get it, for that man doth but consult the shame of his own house, the spoiling of his family, and the damnation of his soul; for that which he getteth by working of iniquity is but a getting by the devices of hell ; therefore he can be no gainer, neither for himself or family, that gains by an evil course. But this was one of the sins that Mr. Badman was addicted to after he came acquainted with these three fel- lows, nor could all that his master could do break him of this, beastly sin. Attentive. But where, since he was but an apprentice, could he get money to follow this practice, for drunkenness, as you have inti- mated, is a very costly sin ? Wiseman. His master paid for all. For, as I told you before, as he learned of these three villains to be a beastly drunkard, so he learned of them to pilfer and steal from his master. Sometimes he would sell off his master’s goods, but keep the money — that is, when he could; also sometimes he would beguile his master by taking out of his cash-box ; and when he could do neither of these he would convey away of his master’s wares what he thought would be least missed, and send or carry them to such and such houses, where he knew they would be laid up to his use, and then appoint set times there to meet and make merry with these fellows. Attentive. This was as bad, nay, I think worse, than the former, for by thus doing, he did not only run himself under the wrath of God, but he endangered the undoing of his master and his family. Wiseman. Sins go not alone, but follow one the other as do the links of a chain ; he that will be a drunkard must have money, either of his own or of some other man’s; either of his father’s, mother’s, master’s, or at the highway, or some way. Attentive. I fear that many an honest man is undone by Isuch kind of servants. Wiseman. I am of the same mind with you, but this should make the dealer the more wary LIFE AND DEATH what kind of servants he keeps and what kind of apprentices he takes. It should also teach him to look well to his shop himself; also to take a strict account of all things that are bought and sold by his servants. The master’s neglect herein may embolden his servant to be bad, and may bring him too in a short time to rags and a morsel of bread. Attentive. I am afraid that there is much of this kind of pilfering amongst servants in these bad days of ours. Wiseman. Now, while it is in my mind, I will tell you a story. When I was in prison there came a woman to me that was under a great deal of trouble. So I asked her (she being a stranger to me) what she had to say to me. She said she was afraid she should be damned. I asked her the cause of those fears. She told me that she had some time since lived with a shopkeeper at Wellingborough, and had robbed his box in the shop several times of money, to the value of more than now I will say ; and, Pray, says she, tell me what I shall do. I told her I would have her go to her master and make him satisfaction. She said she was afraid. I asked her why ? She said she doubted lie would hang her. I told her that I would intercede for her life, and would make use of other friends too to do the like, but she told me she durst not venture that. Well, said I, shall I send to your master, while you abide out of sight, and make your peace with him before be sees you? And with that I asked her master’s name. But all that she said in answer to this was, Pray let it alone till I come to you again. So away she went, and neither told me her master’s name nor her own. This is about ten or twelve years since, and I never saw her again. I tell you this story for this cause, to confirm your fears that of such kind of servants too many there be, and that God makes them sometimes like old Tod, of whom mention was made before, (through the terrors that he lays upon them,) to betray them- selves. I could tell you of another that came to me with a like relation concerning herself and the •robbing of her mistress, but at this time let this suffice. » Attentive. But what was that other villain addicted to? — I mean young Badman’s third companion? Wiseman. Uncleanness; I told you before, but it seems you forgot. Attentive. Right, it was uncleanness; un- cleanness also is a filthy sin. OF MR. BA DM AN. 503 Wiseman. Tt is so, and yet it is one of the most reigning sins in our day. Attentive. So they say, and that too among those that one would think had more wit, even among the great ones. Wiseman. The more is the pity, for usually examples that are set by them that are great and chief spread sooner and more universally than do the sins of other men ; yea, and when such men are at the head in transgressing, sin walks with a bold face through the land. As Jeremiah saith of the prophets, so may it be said of such : “ From them is profaneness gone forth into all the land ;” that is, with bold and audacious face. Attentive. But pray let us return again to Mr. Badman and his companions. You say one of them was very vile in the commission of un- cleanness. Wiseman. Yes, so I say ; not but that he was a drunkard and also thievish, but he was most arch in this sin of uncleanness ; this roguery was his masterpiece, for he was a ringleader to them all in the beastly sin of whoredom. He was also best acquainted with such houses where they were, and so could readily lead the rest of his gang unto them. The strumpets also, because they knew this young villain, would at first discover themselves in all their whorish pranks to those that he brought with him. Attentive. That is a deadly thing ; I mean, it is a deadly thing to young men when such beastly queans shall, with words and carriages that are openly tempting, discover themselves unto them ; it is hard for such to escape their snare. Wiseman. That is true, therefore the wise man’s counsel is the best : “ Come not near the door of her house ;” for they are (as you say) very tempting, as is seen by her in the Pro- verbs : “ I looked,” says the wise man, “ through my casement, and behold among the simple ones I discerned a young man void of under- standing passing through the streets near her corner, and he went the way to her house, in the twilight, in the evening, in tli£ black and dark night; and behold, there met him a woman with the attire of an harlot, and subtle of heart, (she is lewd and stubborn ; her feet abide not in her house; now is she without, now is she in the streets, and lieth in wait at every corner.) So she caught him, and kissed him, and with an impudent face said unto him, I have peace-offerings with me ; this day have I paid my vows. Therefore came I forth to meet thee, diligently to seek thy face, and I / BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. 504 have found thee. I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let us take our fill of love until the morning, let us solace ourselves with loves.” Here was a bold beast ; and indeed, the very eyes, hands, words, and ways of such are all snares and bands to youthful, lustful fellows; and with these was young Badman greatly snared. Attentive. This sin of uncleanness is mightily cried out against both by Moses, the prophets, Christ, and his apostles, and yet, as we see, for all that, how men run headlong to it ! Wiseman. You have said the truth, and I will add that God, to hold men back from so filthy a sin, has set such a stamp of his indig- nation upon it, and commanded such evil effects to follow it, that were not they that use it bereft of all fear of God and love to their own health they could not but stop and be afraid to com- mit it. For besides the eternal damnation that doth attend such in the next world, (for those “ have no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God,” Eph. v.,) the evil effects thereof in this world are dreadful. This sin is such a snare to the soul that unless a miracle of grace prevents, it unavoidably perishes in the enchanting and bewitching pleasures of it. This is manifest by these and such like texts: “ The adulteress will hunt for the precious life. Whoso committeth adultery with a woman lacketli understanding; and he that doth it destroyeth his own soul. An whore is a deep ditch, and a strange woman is a narrow pit. Her house inclines to death, and her paths unto the dead. None that go in unto her return again, neither take they hold of the path of life. She hath cast down many wounded ; yea, many strong men have been slain by her ; her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death.” Attentive. These are dreadful sayings, and do show the dreadful state of those that are guilty of this sin. Wiseman. Verily, so they do. But yet that which makes the whole more dreadful is, that men are given up to this sin because they are abhorred of God ; and because abhorred, therefore they shall fall into the commission of it and shall live there : “ The mouth (that is, the flattering lips) of a strange woman is a deep pit, the abhorred of the Lord shall fall therein.” Therefore it saith again of such, that they “have none inheritance in the king- dom of Christ and of God.” Attentive. But all together, and it is a dread- ful thing to live and die in this transgression. Wiseman. True ; but suppose that instead of all these judgments this sin had attending of it all the felicities of this life, and no bitter- ness, shame or disgrace mixed with it, yet one hour in hell will spoil all. Oh this hell, hell- fire, damnation in hell ! it is such an inconceiv- able punishment that were it but thoroughly believed it would nip this sin, with others, in the head. But here is the mischief: those that give up themselves to these things do so harden themselves in unbelief and atheism about the things, the punishments that God bath threatened to inflict upon the committers of them, that at last they arrive to almost an absolute and firm belief that there is no judg- ment to come hereafter, else they would not, they could not, no not attempt to, commit this sin by such abominable language as some do. Attentive. Well, but I wonder, if young Bad- man’s master knew him to be such a wretch, that he would suffer him in his house? Wiseman. They liked one another even as fire and water do. Young Badman’s ways were odious to his master, and his master’s ways were such as young Badman could not endure. Thus in these two were fulfilled that saying of the Holy Ghost: “An unjust man is an abomina- tion to the just; and he that is upright in the way is an abomination to the wicked.” The good man’s ways Mr. Badman could not abide, nor could the good man abide the bad ways of his base apprentice. Yet would his master, if he could, have kept him and also have learned him his trade. Attentive. If he could! Why he might if he would, might he not? Wiseman. Alas ! Badman ran away from him once and twice, and would not at all be ruled. So the next time he did run away from him he did let him go indeed, for he gave him no oc- casion to run away, except it was by holding of him as much as he could (and that he could do but little) to good and honest rules of life. And bad it been one’s own case one should have let him go. For what should a man do that had either regard to his own peace, his chil- dren’^ good, or the jweservation of the rest of his servants from evil, but let him go? Had he stayed, the house of correction had been most fit for him, but thither his master was loth to send him, because of the love that he bore to his father. An house of correction, I say, had been the fittest place for him, but his master let him go. LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 505 Attentive. He ran away, you say ; but whither did he run? Wiseman. Why, to one of his own trade and also like himself. Thus the wicked joined hand in hand, and there he served out his time. Attentive. Then sure lie had his heart’s de- sire when he was with one so like himself. Wiseman. Yes, so he had, but God gave it him in his anger. Attentive. How do you mean? Wiseman. I mean as before, that for a wicked man to be, by the providence of God, turned out of a good man’s doors into a wicked man’s house to dwell is a sign of the anger of God. For God by this and such judgments says thus to such an one : “ Thou wicked one, thou lovest not me, my ways, nor my people ; thou castest my law and good counsel behind thy back: come, I will dispose of thee in my wrath ; thou shalt be turned over to the ungodly, thou slialt be put to school to the devil ; I will leave thee to sink and swim in sin till I shall visit thee with death and judgment.” This was there- fore another judgment that did come upon this young Badinan. Attentive. You have said the truth, for God by such a judgment as this in effect says so in- deed ; for he takes them out of the hand of the just, and binds them up in the hands of the wicked, and whither they then shall be car- ried a man may easily imagine. Wiseman. It is one of the saddest tokens of God’s anger that happens to such kind of per- sons, and that for several reasons : 1. Such an one, by this judgment, is put out of the way and from under the means which or- dinarily are made use of to do good to the soul. For a family where godliness is professed and practised is God’s ordinance, the place which he has appointed to teach young ones the way and fear of God. Now to be put out of such a family, into a bad, a wicked one, as Mr. Badman was, must needs be in judgment and a sign of the anger of God. For in ungodly families men learn to forget God, to hate good- ness, and to estrange themselves from the ways of those that are good. 2. In bad families they have continually fresh examples and also incitements to evil, and fresh encouragements to it too. Yea, moreover, in such places evil is commended, praised, well spoken of, and they that do it are applauded ; and this, to be sure, is a drowning judgment. 3. Such places are the very haunts and walks of the infernal spirits, who are continually poisoning the cogitations and minds of one or other in such families, that they be able to poison others. Therefore observe it : usually in wicked families some one or two are more arch for wickedness than are any others that are there. Now, such are Satan’s conduit- pipes, for by them he conveys the spawn of hell, through their being crafty in wickedness, into the ears and souls of their companions; yea, and when they have once conceived wick- edness, they travail with it, as doth a woman with child, till they have brought it forth: “ Behold, he travaileth with iniquity, and hath conceived mischief and brought forth false- hood.” Some men, as here is intimated in the text, and as was hinted also before, have a mind of mystical but hellish copulation with the devil, who is the father and their soul the mother of sin and wickedness ; and they, so soon as they have conceived by him, finish by bringing forth sin, both it and their own dam- nation. Attentive. How much then doth it concern those parents that love their children to see that if they go from them they be put into such families as be good, that they may learn there betimes to eschew evil and to follow that which is good ! Wiseman. It doth concern them indeed ; and it doth also concern them that take children into their families to take heed what children they receive. For a man may soon by a bad boy be damaged both in his name, estate, and family, and also hindered in his peace and peaceable pursuit after God and godliness ; I say, by one such vermin as a wicked and filthy apprentice. Attentive. True, for one sinner destroyeth much good, and a poor man is better than a liar. But many times a man cannot help it, for such as at the beginning promise very fair are by a little time proved to be very rogues, like young Badman. Wiseman. That is true also; but when a man has done the best he can to help it he may with the more confidence expect the blessing of God to follow 7 , or he shall have the more peace if things go contrary to his desire. Attentive. Well, but did Mr. Badmau and his master agree so w 7 ell ? I mean his last master, since they were birds of a feather; I mean since they v r ere so v T ell met for wickedness. Wiseman. This second master was, as before I told you, bad enough, but yet he would often fall out w T ith young Badmau, his servant, and 506 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. chide, yea, and sometimes beat him too, for his naughty doings. Attentive. What ! for all he was so bad him- self! This is like the proverb, The devil cor- rects vice. Wiseman. I will assure you it is as I say, for you must know that Badman’s ways suited not with his master’s gains. Could he have done as the damsel that we read of (Acts xvi.) did — to wit, fill his master’s purse with his bad- ness — he had certainly been his white boy; but it was not so with young Badman, and therefore, though his master and he did suit well enough in the main, yet in this and that point they differed. Young Badman was for neglecting of his master’s business, for going to the whorehouse, for beguiling of his master, for attempting to debauch his daughters, and the like. No marvel, then, if they disagreed in their points. Not so much for that his master had an antipathy against the fact it- self — for he could do so when he was an ap- prentice — but for that his servant, by his sin, made spoil of his commodities, &c., and so damnified his master. Had (as I said before) young Badman’s wickedness only a tendency to his master’s advantages, as could he have sworn, lied, coz- ened, cheated, and defrauded customers for his master, (and indeed sometimes he did so,) but had that been all that he had done he had not had, no, not a wry word from his master; but this was not always Mr. Badman’s way. Attentive. That was well brought in, even the maid that we read of in the Acts, and the distinction was as clear betwixt the wicked- ness and wickedness of servants. Wiseman. Alas ! men that are wicked them- selves yet greatly hate it in others, not simply because it is wickedness, but because it op- poseth their interest. Do you think that that maid’s master would have been troubled at the loss of her if he had not lost with her his gain ? No, I’ll warrant you ; she might have gone to the devil for him. But when her master saw “that the hope of his gain was gone,” then, then he fell to persecuting Paul. But Mr. Badman’s master did sometimes lose by Mr. Badman’s sins, and then Badman and his master were at odds. Attentive. Alas, poor Badman ! Then it seems thou couldst not at all times please thy like? Wiseman. No, he could not, and the reason I have told you. Attentive. But do not bad masters condemn themselves in condemning the badness of their servants ? Wiseman. Yes, in that they condemn that in another which they either have or do allow in themselves. And the time will come when that very sentence that hath gone out of their own mouths against the sins of others, them- selves living and taking pleasure in the same, shall return with violence upon their own pates. The Lord pronounced judgment against Baasba, as for all his evils in general, so for this in special, because he was “ like the house of Jeroboam, and yet killed him.” This is Mr. Badman’s master’s case, and he is like his man, and yet he beats him ; he is like his man, and yet he rails at him for being bad. Attentive. But why did not young Badman run away from his master, as he ran away from the other? Wiseman. He did not. And, if I be not mistaken, the reason why was this : There was godliness in the house of the first, and that young Badman could not endure. For fare, for lodging, for work, and time he had better and more by his master’s allowance than ever he had by his last ; but all this would not con- tent because godliness was promoted there. He could not abide this praying, this reading of Scriptures, and hearing and repeating of sermons ; he could not abide to be told of his transgressions in a sober and godly manner. Attentive. There is a great deal in the man- ner of reproof; wicked men both can and can- not abide to hear their transgressions spoken against. Wiseman. There is a great deal of difference indeed ; this last master of Mr. Badman would tell Mr. Badman of his sins in Mr. Badman’s own dialect; he would swear, and curse, and damn when he told him of his sins; and this he could bear better than to be told of them after a godly sort. Besides, that last master would, when his passions and rage was over, laugh at and make merry with the sins of his servant Badman ; and that would please young Badman well. Nothing offended Badman but blows, and those he had but few of now, be- cause he was pretty well grown up. For the most part, when his master did rage and swear, he would give him oath for oath, and curse for curse, at least secretly, let him go on so long as he would. Attentive. This was hellish living. Wiseman. It was hellish living indeed ; and a man might say that with this master young Badman completed himself yet more and more LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. I! ADM AN. 507 in wickedness ns well ns in l»is trndc ; for by that he cnmo out of his time, what with his own inclination to sin, what with his acquaint- ance with his three companions, and what with this last master and the wickedness he saw in him, he became a sinner in grain. I tldnk he had a bastard laid to his charge before he came out of his time. Attentive. Well, but it seems he did live to come out of his time; but what did he then ? Wiseman. Why, he went home to his father, and he, like a loving and tender-hearted fa- ther, received him into his house. Attentive. And how did he carry it there? Wiseman. Why, the reason why he went home was for money to set up for himself. He stayed but a little at home, but that little while that he did stay he refrained himself as well as he could, and did not so much discover himself to be base, for fear his father should take distaste, and so should refuse or for awhile forbear to give him money. Yet even then he would have his times and companions, and the fill of his lusts with them, but he used to blind all with this : he was glad to see his old acquaintance, and they as glad to see him, and lie could not, in civility, but ac- commodate them with a bottle or two of wine or a dozen or two of drink. Attentive. And did the old man give him money to set up with ? Wiseman. Yes, about two hundred pounds. Attentive. Therein, I think, the old man was out. Had I been his father, I would have held him a little at stavesend till I had had for bet- ter proof of his manners to be good, (for I perceived that his father did know what a naughty boy he had been, both by what he used to do at home, and because he changed a good master for a bad, &c.) He should not, therefore, have given him money so soon. What if he had pinched a little and gone to journey-work, for a time, that he might have known what a penny was by his earning of it? Then, in all probability, he had known better how to have spent it ; yea, and by that time, perhaps, have better considered with himself how to have lived in the world. Ay, and who knows but he might come to himself with the prodigal, and have asked God and his father forgiveness for the villainies that he had committed against them ? Wiseman. If his father could also have blessed his manner of dealing to him, and have made it effectual for the ends that you have propounded, then I should have thought as you. But alas, alas I you talk as if you never knew, or had at this present forgot, what the bowels and compassions of a father are. Why did you not serve your own son so ? But it is evident enough that we are better at giving good counsel to others than we are at taking good counsel ourselves. But, mine honest neighbour, suppose that Mr. Badinan’s father had done as you say, and by so doing had driven his son to ill courses, what had he bettered either himself or his son in so doing? Attentive. That is true ; but it doth not fol- low that if the father had done as I said the son would have done as you suppose. But if he had done as you have supposed, what had he done worse than he had done already ? Wiseman. He had done bad enough,, that is true. But suppose his father had given him no money, and suppose that young Badman had taken a pet thereat, and in anger had gone beyond sea, and his father had never seen him nor heard of him more ; or suppose that, of a mad and headstrong stomach he had gone to the highway for money, and so had brought himself to the gallows and his father and fam- ily to great contempt; or, if by so doing he had not brought himself to that end, yet he had added to all his wickedness such and such evils besides, — what comfort could his father have had in this? Besides, when his father had done for him what he could, with desire to make him an honest man, he would then, whether his son had proved honest or no, have laid down his head with far more peace than if he had taken your counsel. Attentive. Nay, I think I should not have been forward to have given advice in the case; but truly you have given me such an account of his villainies that the hearing thereof has made me angry with him. Wiseman. In an angry mood we may soon outshoot ourselves ; but, poor wretch as he is ! he is gone to his place. But, as I said, when a good father hath done what he can for a bad child, and that child shall prove never the bet- ter, he will lie down with for more peace than if through severity he had driven him to in- conveniences. I remember that I have heard of a good woman that had (as this old man) a bad and ungodly son, and she prayed for him, coun- selled him, and carried it motherly to him for several years together, but still he remained bad. At last, upon a time, after she had been 508 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. at prayer, as she was wont, for his conversion, she comes to him, and thus, or to this effect, begins again to admonish him. Son, said she, thou hast been and art a wicked child; thou hast cost me many a prayer and tear, and yet thou remainest wicked ; well, I have done my duty, I have done what I can to save thee; now I am satisfied that if I shall see thee damned at the day of judgment I shall be so far off from being grieved for thee that I shall rejoice to hear the sentence of thy damnation at that day. And it converted him. I tell you, that if parents carry it. lovingly towards their children, mixing their mercies with loving rebukes, and their loving rebukes with fatherly and motherly compassions, they are more likely to save their children than by being churlish and severe towards them. But if they do not save them, if their mercy do them no good, yet it will greatly ease them at the day of death to consider, “ I have done by love as much as I could to save and deliver my child from hell.” Attentive. Well, I yield. But pray let us return again to Mr. Badman. You say that his father gave him a piece of money that he might set up for himself. Wiseman. Yes, his father did give him a piece of money, and he did set up, and almost as soon set down again ; for he was not long- set up but by his ill managing of his matters at home, together with his extravagant ex- penses abroad, he was got so far in debt and had so little in his shop to pay that he was hard put to it to keep himself out of prison. But when his creditors understood that he was about to marry, and in a fair way to get a rich wife, they said among themselves, “We will not be hasty with him ; if he gets a rich wife, he will pay us all.” Attentive. But how could he so quickly run out, for I perceive it was in little time by what you say? Wiseman. It was in little time indeed; I think he was not above two years and a half in doing of it ; but the reason is apparent, for he being a wild young man, and now having the bridle loose before him, and being wholly subjected to his lusts and vices, he gave him- self up to the way of his heart and to the sight of his eye, forgetting that for all these things God would bring him to judgment; and he that doth thus, you may be sure, shall not be able long to stand on his legs. Besides, he had now an addition of new companions — companions, you must think, most like himself in manners, and so such that cared not who sunk, so they themselves might swim. These would often be haunting of him and of his shop too when he was absent. They would commonly egg him to the ale- house, but yet make him Jack-pay-for-all: they would also be borrowing money of him, but take no care to pay again, except it was with more of their company, which also he liked very well; and so his poverty came “ like one that travaileth,” and his “ want like an armed man.” But all the while they studied his temper; he loved to be flattered, praised, and com- mended for wit, manhood, and personage; and this was like stroking him over the face. Thus they colleagued with him, and yet got more and more into him, and so (like horse- leeches) they drew away that little that his father had given him, and brought him quickly down almost to dwell next door to the beggar. Attentive. Then was the saying of the wise man fulfilled: “He that keepeth company with harlots and is a companion of fools shall be destroyed.” Wiseman. Ay, and that too, “A companion of riotous persons shameth his father;” for he, poor man, hath both grief and shame to see how his son (now at his own hand) behaved himself in the enjoyment of those good things in and under the lawful use of which he might have lived to God’s glory, his own comfort, and credit among his neighbours. “But he that followeth vain persons shall have poverty enough.” The way that he took led him directly into this condition, for who can ex- pect other things of one that follows such courses? Besides, when he was in his shop he could not abide to be doing; he was natu- rally given to idleness ; he loved to live high, but his hands refused to labour; and what else can the end of such an one be but that which the wise man saitli ? — “ The drunkard and the glutton shall come to poverty, and drowsiness shall clothe a man with rags.” Attentive. But now, methinks, when he was brought thus low, he should have considered the hand of God that was gone out against him, and should have smote upon the breast and have returned. Wiseman. Consideration, good consideration, was far from him; he was as stout and proud now as ever in all his life, and was as high too in the pursuit of his sin as when he was in the midst of his fulness ; only he went now LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. D ADM AN. 509 like a tired jade; the devil had ridden him almost off his legs. Attentive. Well, but what did he do when all was almost gone? Wiseman. Two things were now his play: 1. He bore all in hand by swearing, and cracking, and lying that he was as well to pass as he was the first day he set up for him- Belf, yea, that he had rather got than lost; and he had at his beck some of his com- panions that would swear to confirm it as fast as he. Attentive. This was double wickedness; it was a sin to say it, and another to swear to it. Wiseman. That is true; but what evil is that that he will not do that is left of God_ as I be- lieve Mr. Badman was? Attentive. And what was the other thing? Wiseman. Why, that which I hinted before — he was for looking out for a rich wife; and now I am come to some more of his invented, devised, designed, and abominable roguery, such as will yet declare him to be a most abominable sinner. The thing was this: a wife he wanted, or rather money, for, as for a woman, he could have whores enough at his whistle. But, as I said, he wanted money, and that must be got by a wife or no way; nor could he so easily get a wife, neither, except he became an artist at the way of dissembling; nor would dissem- bling do among that people that could dissem- ble as well as he. But there dwelt a maid not far from him that was both godly and one that had a good portion ; but how to get her, there lay all the craft. Well, he calls a council of some, of his most trusty and cunning com- panions and breaks his mind to them — to wit, that he had a mind to marry, and he also told them to whom. But, said he, how shall I ac- complish my end? She is religious and I am not. Then oneof them made reply, saying, Since she is religious, you must pretend to be so like- wise, and that for some time before you go to her ; mark therefore whither she goes daily to hear, and do you go thither also ; but there you must be sure to behave yourself soberly, and make as if you liked the word wonderful well ; stand also where she may see you, and when you come home be sure that you walk the Btreets very soberly and go within sight of her; this done for awhile, then go to her and first talk of how sorry you are for your sins, and show great love to the religion that she is of, still speaking well of her preachers and of her godly acquaintance, bewailing your hard hap that it was not your lot to be acquainted with her and her fellow-professors sooner; and this is the way to get her. Also you must write down sermons, talk of Scriptures, and protest that you came a- wooing to her only be- cause she is godly, and because you should count it your greatest happiness if you might but have such a one; as for her money, slight it, it will never be the further off; that is the way to come soonest at it, for she will be jeal- ous at first that you come for her money ; you know what she has, but make not a word about it. Do this, and you shall see if you do not entangle the lass. Thus the snare was laid for this poor, hPnest maid, and she was quickly catched in the pit. Attentive. Why, did he take this counsel ? Wiseman. Did he! Yea, after awhile went as boldly to her, and that under a vizard of re- ligion, as if he had been for honesty and god- liness one of the most sincere and upright- hearted in England. He observed all his points and followed the advice of his counsel- lors, and quickly obtained her too, for natural parts he had: he was tall and fair, and had plain but very good clothes on his back ; and his religion was the more easily attained, for he had seen something in the house of his lather and first master, and so could the more readily put himself into the form and show thereof. So he appointed a day and went to her, a3 that he might easily do, for she had neither father nor mother to oppose. Well, when he was come, and had given her a civil compli ment to let her understand why he was come, then he began and told her that he had found in his heart a great deal of love to her person, and that of all the damsels in the world he had pitched upon her, if she thought fit, to make her his beloved wife. The reasons, as he told her, why he had pitched upon her were her re- ligious and personal excellencies, and there- fore entreated her to take his condition into her tender and loving consideration. As for the world, quoth he, I have a very good trade, and can maintain myself and family well while my wife sits still on her seat ; I have got thus and thus much already, and feel money come in every day ; but that is not the thing that I aim at ; it is an honest and godly wife. Then he would present her with a good book or two, pretending how much good he had got by them himself. He would also be often speak- ing well of godly ministers, especially of those that he perceived she liked and loved most. Besides, he would be often telling of her what 510 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. a godly fatlier lie had, and what a new man he was also become himself; and thus did this treacherous dealer deal with this honest and good girl, to her great grief and sorrow, as af- terward you shall hear. Attentive. But had the maid no friend to look after her? Wiseman. Her father and mother were dead, and that he knew well enough, and so she was the more easily overcome by his naughty, lying- tongue. But if she had never so many friends she might have been beguiled by him. It is too much the custom of young peojile now to think themselves wise enough to make their own choice, and that they need not ask coun- sel of those that are elder and also wiser than they; but this is a great fault in them, and many of them have paid dear for it. Well, to be short, in a little time Mr. Badman obtains his desire, gets this honest girl and her money, is married to her, brings her home, makes a feast, entertains her royally, but her portion must pay for all. Attentive. This was wonderful deceitful do- ings : a man shall seldom hear of the like. Wiseman. By this his doing he showed how little he feared God and what little dread he had of his judgments. For all this carriage and all these words were by him premeditated evil ; he knew he lied, he knew he dissembled ; yea, he knew that he made use of the name of God, of religion, good men and good books but as a stalking-horse, thereby the better to catch his game. In all this his glorious pretence of religion he was but a glorious painted hypo- crite, and hypocrisy is the highest sin that a poor carnal wretch can attain unto ; it is also a sin that most dareth God and that also bring- eth the greater damnation. Now w r as he a whited wall, now was he a painted sepulchre, now was he a grave that appeared not, for this poor honest, godly damsel little thought that both her peace, and comfort, and estate, and liberty, and person, and all were going to her burial when she was going to be married to Mr. Badman ; and yet so it was, she enjoyed herself but little afterwards ; she was as if she was dead and buried to what she enjoyed be- fore. Attentive. Certainly some wonderful judg- ment of God must attend and overtake such wicked men as these. Wiseman. You may he sure that they shall have judgment to the full for all these things when the day of judgment is come. But as for judgment upon them in this life, it doth not always come — no, not upon those that are worthy thereof: “They that tempt God are delivered, and they that work wickedness are set up;” but they are reserved to the day of wrath, and then, for their wickedness, God will repay them to their faces. “The wicked is reserved to the day of destruction; they shall be brought forth to the day of wrath. Who shall declare his way to his face? and who shall repay him what he hath done? Yet shall he be brought to the grave, and remain in the tomb ;” that is, ordinarily they escape God’s hand in this life, save only a few ex- amples are made that others may be cautioned and take warning thereby, but at the day of judgment they must be rebuked for their evil with the lashes of devouring fire. Attentive. Can you give me no example of God’s wrath upon men that have acted this tragical wicked deed of Mr. Badman? Wiseman. Yes, Hamor and Shechem and all the men of their city, for attempting to make God and religion the stalking-horse to get Jacob’s daughter to wife, were together slain with the edge of the sword — a judgment of God upon them, no doubt, for their dissem- bling in that matter. All manner of lying and dissembling is dreadful, but to make God and religion a disguise, therewith to blind thy dis- simulation from others’ eyes, is highly provok- ing to the Divine Majesty. I knew one that dwelt not far off from our town that got him a wife as Mr. Badman got his, but he did not enjoy her long; for one night, as he was riding home from his com- panions, wdiere he had been at a neighbouring town, his horse threw him to the ground, where he was found dead at break of day, frightfully and lamentably mangled with his fall and besmeared with his own blood. Attentive. Well, but pray return again to Mr. Badman : how did he carry it to his wife after he was married to her? Wiseman. Nay, let us take things along as we go. He had not been married but' a little while but his creditors came upon him for their money. He deferred them a little while, but at last things were come to that point that pay he must or must do worse; so he appointed them a time and they came for their money, and he paid them down with her money, be- fore her eyes, for those goods that he had pro- fusely spent among his whores long before, be- sides the portion that his father gave him to the value of two hundred pounds. Attentive. This beginning was bad, but what LIFE AND DEATH shall I say? It was like Mr. Badman himself. Poor woman! this was but a bad beginning for her; I fear it filled her with trouble enough, as I think such a beginning would have done one perhaps much stronger than she. Wiseman. Trouble! Ay, you may be sure of it, but now it was too late to repent ; she should have looked better to herself when be- ing wary would have done her good; her harms may be an advantage to others that will learn to take heed thereby; but for her- self she must take what follows, even such a life now as Mr. Badman her husband will lead her, and that will be bad enough. Attentive. This beginning was bad, and yet I fear it was but the beginning of bad'. Wiseman. You may be sure that it was but the beginning of badness, for other evils came on apace, as for instance: It was but a little while after he was married but he hangs his religion upon the hedge, or rather dealt with it as men deal with their okl clothes, who cast them oft’ or leave them to others to wear; for his part, he would be religious no longer. Now, therefore, he had pulled off 1 his vizard and began to show himself in his old shape, a base, wicked, debauched fellow, and now the poor woman saw that she was betrayed indeed ; now also his old companions began to flock about him and to haunt his house and shop as formerly; and who with them but Mr. Bad- man? and who with him again but they? Now, those good people that used to com- pany with his wife began to be amazed and discouraged; also he would frown and glout upon them, as if he abhorred the appearance of them; so that in little time he drove all good company from her, and made her sit solitary by herself. He also began now to go out o’ nights to those drabs who were his familiars before, with whom he would stay sometimes till midnight, and sometimes till almost morning, and then would come home drunk as a swine; and this was the course of Mr. Badman. Now when he came home in this case, if his wife did but speak a word to him about where he had been and why he had abused himself, though her words were spoken in never so much meekness aud love, then she was a whore, and bitch, and jade, and it was well if she missed his fingers and heels. Sometimes also he would bring his punks home to his house, and woe be to his wife when they were gone if she did not entertain them with all OF MR. BADMAN. 611 varieties possible, and also carry it lovingly to them. Thus this good woman was made by Bad- man, her husband, to possess nothing but dis- appointments as to all that he had promised her or that she hoped to have at his hands. But that that added pressing weight to all her sorrow was, that as he had cast away all religion himself, so he attempted if possible to make her do so too. He would not suffer her to go out to the preaching of the word of Christ, nor to the rest of his appointments for the health and salvation of her soul. He would now taunt at and reflectingly speak of her preachers, and would receive, yea, raise scandals of them, to her very great grief and affliction. Now she scarce dare go to an honest neigh- bour’s house or have a good book in her hand, especially when he had his companions in his house or had got a little drink in his head. He would also, when he perceived that she was dejected, speak tauntingly and mockingly to her in the presence of his companions, calling of her his religious wife, his demure dame, and the like; also he would make a sport of her among his wanton ones abroad. If she did ask him, as sometimes she would, to let her go out to a sermon, he would in a currish manner reply, Keep at home, keep at home, and look to your business ; we cannot live by hearing of sermons. If she still urged that he would let her go, then he would say to her, Go if you dare. He would also charge her with giving of what he had to her minis- ters, when, vile wretch ! he had spent it on his vain companions before. This was the life that Mr. Badman’s good wife lived within few months after he had married her. Attentive. This was a disappointment indeed. Wiseman. A disappointment indeed, as ever, I think, poor woman had. One would think that the knave might a little let her have had her will, since it was nothing but to be honest, and since she brought him so sweet, so lump- ing a portion, for she brought hundreds into his house ; I say, one would think he should have let her had her own will a little, since she desired it only in the service and worship of God ; but could she win him to grant her that? No, not a bit if it would have saved her life. True, sometimes she would steal out when he was from home, or on a journey, or among his drunken companions, but with all privacy imaginable ; and, poor woman ! this 512 1 3 UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. advantage she had : she carried it so to all her neighbours that though many of them were but carnal, yet they would not betray her, or tell of her going out to the world if they saw it, but would rather endeavour to hide it from Mr. Badman himself. Attentive. This carriage of his to her was enough to break her heart. Wiseman. It was enough to do it; indeed it did effectually do it. It killed her in time, yea, it was all the time a-killing of her. She would oftentimes, when she sat by herself, thus mournfully bewail her condition : “ Woe is me that I sojourn in Meshec, and that I dwell in the tents of Kedar ! My soul hath long time dwelt with him that hateth peace. Oh what shall be given unto thee, thou deceitful tongue? or what shall be done unto thee, thou false tongue?” I am a woman grieved in spirit ; my husband has bought me and sold me for his lusts ; it was not me, but my money that he wanted ; oh that he had had it, so I had had my liberty ! This she said, not of contempt of his per- son, but of his conditions ; and because she saw that by his hypocritical tongue he had brought her not only almost to beggary, but robbed her of the word of God. Attentive. It is a deadly thing, I see, to be unequally yoked with unbelievers. If this woman had had a good husband, how happily might they have lived together ! Such an one would have prayed for her, taught her, and also would have encouraged her in the faith and ways of God; but now, poor creature! instead of this, there is nothing but quite the contrary. Wisernan. It is a deadly thing indeed, and therefore by the word of God his people are forbid to be joined in marriage with them. “ Be not,” saith he, “ unequally yoked together with unbelievers ; for what fellowshijt hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? and what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an in- fidel? and what agreement hath the temple of God with idols?” There can be no agree- ment where such matches are made; even God himself hath declared the contrary from the beginning of the world. “ I,” says he, “ will put enmity betwixt thee and the woman, betwixt thy seed and her seed.” Therefore he saith in another place, “ They can mix no bet- ter than iron and clay.” I say, they cannot agree, they cannot be one, and therefore they should be aware at first and not lightly re- ceive such into their affections. God ha3 often made such matches bitter, especially to his own. Such matches are, as God said of Eli’s sons that were spared, “ to consume the eyes and to grieve the heart.” Oh the wailing and lamentation that they have made that have been thus yoked, especially if they were such as would be so yoked against their light and good ^counsel to the contrary ! Attentive. Alas ! he deluded her with his tongue, and feigned reformation. Wiseman. Well, well ; she should have gone more warily to work; what if she had ac- quainted some of her best, most knowing, and godly friends therewith? What if she had en- gaged a godly minister or two to have talked with Mr. Badman? Also, what if she had laid wait round about him, to espy if he was not otherwise behind .her back than he was before her face? And besides, I verily think (since in the multitude of counsellors there is safety) that if she had acquainted the congre- gation with it, and desired them to spend some time in prayer to God about it, and, if she must have had him, to have received him as to his godliness upon the judgment of others rather than her own, (she knowing them to be godly, and judicious, and unbiassed men,) she had had more peace all her life after than to trust to her own poor, raw, womanish judg- ment, as she did. Love is blind, and will see nothing amiss where others may see an hun- dred faults. Therefore, I say, she should not have trusted to her own thoughts in the mat- ter of his goodness. As to his person, there she was fittest to judge, because she was to be the person pleased; but as to his godliness, there the word was the fittest judge, and they that could best understand it, because God was thereiu to be pleased. I wish that all young maidens would take heed of being beguiled with flat- tering words, with feigning and lying speeches, and take the best way to preserve themselves from being bought and sold by wicked men, as she was, lest they repent with her, when, as to this, repentance will do them no good, but for their unadvisedness go sorrowing to their graves. Attentive. Well, things are past with this poor woman, and cannot be called back; let others beware, by her misfortunes, lest they also fall into her distress. Wiseman. That is the thing that I say ; let them take heed, lest for their unadvisedness LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA DMA N. 613 they smart ns this poor woman has clone. And ah I methinks that they that yet arc single persons, and that arc tempted to marry to such as Mr. Badman, would do well to inform and warn themselves in this matter before they entangle themselves, but go to some that are already in the snare, and ask them how it is with them as to the suitable or unsuitableness of their marriage, and desire their advice. Surely they would ring such a peal in their ears about the inequality, unsuitableness, dis- advantages, and disquietments, and sins that attend such marriages that would make them beware as long as they live. But the bird in the air knows not the notes of the bird in the snare until she comes thither herself. Besides, to make up such marriages, Satan, and carnal reason, and lust, or at least ineonsiderateness, has the chiefest hand ; and where these things bear sway, designs, though never so destruc- tive, will go headlong on ; and therefore I fear that but little warning will be taken by young girls at Mr. Badman’s wife’s affliction. Attentive. But are there no dissuasive argu- ments to lay before such to prevent their future misery? Wiseman. Yes, there is the law of God, that forbiddeth marriage with unbelievers. These kind of marriages also are condemned even by irrational creatures. It is forbidden by the law of God, both in the Old Testament and in the New. 1. In the Old : “ Thou shalt not make marriages with them ; thy daughter thou shalt not give unto his son, nor his daughter shalt thou take unto thy son.” Dcut. vii. 4, 5. 2. In the New Testament it is forbidden : “Be not unequally yoked together with unbelievers ; let them marry to whom they will, only in the Lord.” Here now is a prohibition plainly forbidding the believer to marry with the unbeliever ; therefore they should not do it. Again, these unwarrantable marriages are, as I may so say, condemned by irrational creatures, who will not couple but with their own sort. Will the sheep couple with the dog? the partridge with a crow? or the pheasant with an owl? No; they will strictly tie up themselves to those of their own sort only ; yea, it sets all the world a- wondering when they see or hear the contrary. Man only is most subject to wink at and allow of these unlawful mixtures of men and women. Because man only is a sinful beast, a sinful bird, therefore he, above all, will take upon him by rebellious actions to answer, or rather to oppose and violate, the law of God and his 33 Creator; nor shall these, or other interroga- tories, what fellowship, what concord, what agreement, what communion can there be in such marriages? be counted of weight or thought worth the answering by him. But further, the dangers that such do com- monly run themselves into should be to others a dissuasive argument to stop them from doing the like; for besides the distresses of Mr. Bad- man’s wife, many that have had very hopeful beginnings for heaven have, by virtue of the mischiefs that have attended these unlawful marriages, miserably and fearfully miscarried. Soon after such marriages conviction (the first step towards heaven) hath ceased; prayers (the next step towards heaven) have ceased; hungerings and Burstings after salvation (an- other step towards the kingdom of heaven) have ceased. In a word, such marriages have estranged them from the word, from their godly and faithful friends, and have brought them again into carnal company, among carnal friends, and also into carnal delights, where and with whom they have both sinfully abode and miserably perished. And this is one reason why God hath for- bidden this kind of unequal marriages. “ For they,” saith he, (meaning the ungodly,) “ will turn away thy son from following me, that they may serve other gods ; so will the anger of the Lord be kindled against you and destroy you suddenly.” Now mark, there were some in Israel that would, notwithstanding this pro- hibition, venture to marry to the heathens and unbelievers ; but what followed ? They served their idols, they sacrificed their sons and their daughters unto devils. Thus were they defiled with their own works, and went a-whoring with their own inventions: therefore was the wrath of the Lord kindled against his people, insomuch that he abhorred his own inheritance. Attentive. But let us return again to Mr. Badman : had he any children by his wife ? Wiseman. Yes, seven. Attentive. I doubt they were but badly brought up. Wiseman. One of them loved its mother dearly, and would constantly hearken to her voice. Now that child she had the opportunity to instruct in the principles of the Christian religion, and it became a very gracious child. But that child Mr. Badman could not abide; he would seldom afford it a pleasant word, but would scold and frown upon it, speak churl- ishly and doggedly to it; and though, as to nature, it was the most feeble of the seven, yet 514 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. it oftenest felt the weight of its father’s fingers. Three of his children did directly follow their father’s steps, and began to be as vile as (in his youth) he was himself. The others that remained became a kind of mongrel professors, not so bad as their father, nor so good as their mother, but betwixt them both. They had their mother’s notions and their father’s ac- tions, and were much like those you read of in the book of Neliemiah: “These children spake half of Ashdod, and could not speak in the Jews’ language, but according to the lan- guage of each people.” Attentive. What you say in this matter is observable ; and, if I take not my mark amiss, it often happeneth after this manner where such unlawful marriages are contracted. Wiseman. It sometimes doth so ; and the rea- son with respect to their parents is this : Where the one of their parents is godly and the other ungodly and vile, they strive for their children when they are born. The godly parent strives for the child, and by prayers, counsel, and good examples labours to make it holy in body and soul, and so fit for the kingdom of heaven ; but the ungodly would have it like himself, wicked, and base, and sinful ; and so they both give in- structions accordingly. Instructions, did I say ? yea, and examples too, according to their minds. Thus the godly, as Hannah, is presenting her Samuel unto the Lord, but the ungodly, like them that went before them, are for offering their children to Moloch, to an idol, to sin, to the devil, and to hell. Thus one hearkenetli to the law of their mother, and is preserved from destruction, but as for the other, as their fath- ers did so do they. Thus did Mr. Badman and his wife part some of their children betwixt them ; but as for the other three that were as it were mongrels betwixt both, they were like unto those that you read of in Kings : “ They heard the Lord, but served their own idols.” They had, as I said, their mother’s notions, and, I will add, profession too, but their fath- er’s lusts, and something of his life. Now, their father did not like them because they bad their mother’s tongue, and the mother did not like them because they had still their father’s heart and life; nor were they indeed fit company for good or bad. The good would not trust them because they were bad ; the bad would not trust them because they were good ; viz., the good would not trust them because they were bad in their lives, and the bad would not trust them because they were good in their words; so they were forced with Esau to join in affinity with Islimael— to wit, to look out a people that were hypocrites like themselves, and with them they matched and lived and died. Attentive. Poor woman ! she could not but have much perplexity. Wiseman. Yea, and poor children ! that ever they were sent into the world as the fruit of the loins and under the government of suen a father as Mr. Badman. Attentive. You say right, for such children lie almost under all manner of disadvantages; but we must say nothing, because this also is the sovereign will of God. Wiseman. We may not by any means object against God, yet we may talk of the advantages and disadvantages that children have by hav- ing for their parents such as are either godly or the contrary. Attentive. You say right, we may so; and pray now, since we are about it, speak some- thing in brief unto it — that is, unto this : What advantage those children have above others that have for their parents such as indeed are godly. Wiseman. So I will; only I must first pre- mise these two or three things : 1. They have not the advantage of election for their father’s sake. 2. They are born, as others, the children of wrath, though they come of godly parents. 3. Grace comes not unto them as an inherit- ance because they have godly parents. These things premised, I shall now proceed : 1. The children of godly parents are the children of many prayers; they are prayed for before and prayed for after they are born ; and the prayers of a godly father and godly mother do much. 2. They have the advantage of what restraint is possible from what evils their parents see them inclined to ; and that is a second mercy. 3. They have the advantage of godly instruc- tion, and of being told which be and which be not the right ways of the Lord. 4. They have also those ways commended unto them and spoken well of in their hearing that are good. 5. Such are also what may be kept out of evil company, from evil books, and from being taught the way of swearing, lying, and the like, as sabbath-breaking and mocking at good men and good things; and this is a very great mercy. 6. They have also the benefit of a godly life set before them doctrinally by their parents, LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. B ADM AN. 515 and that doctrine hacked with a godly and holy example; and these are very great ad- vantages. Now all those advantages the children of ungodly parents want, and so are more in dan- ger of being carried away with the error of the wicked. For ungodly parents neither pray for their children, nor do nor can they heartily instruct them. They do not after a godly manner restrain them from evil, nor do they keep them from evil company. They are not grieved at, nor yet do they forewarn their children to beware of, such evil actions that are an abomination to God and to all good men. They let their children break the sab- bath, swear, lie, be wicked and vain. They commend not to their children an holy life, nor set a good example before their eyes. No, they do in all things contrary, estranging then- children what they can from the love of God and all good men so soon as they are born. Therefore it is a very great judgment of God upon children to be the offspring of base and ungodly men. Attentive. Well, but before we leave Mr. Badman’s wife and children, I have a mind, if you please, to inquire a little more after one thing, the which I am sure you can satisfy me in. Wiseman. What is that? Attentive. You said awhile ago that this Mr. Badman would not suffer his wife to go out to hear such godly ministers as she liked, but said if she did she had as good never come home any more. Did he often carry it thus to her ? Wiseman. He did say so ; he did often say so. This I told you then, and had also then told you more, but that other things put me out. Attentive. Well said; pray therefore now- go on. Wiseman. So I will. Upon a time she was on a Lord’s day for going to hear a sermon, and Mr. Badman was unwilling she should; but she at that time, as it seems, did put on more courage than she was wont; and therefore, after she had spent upon him a great many fair words and entreaties if perhaps she might have prevailed by them, but all to no purpose at all, — at last she said she would go, and ren- dered this reason for it : I have an husband, but also a God ; my God has commanded me, and that upon pain of damnation, to be a con- tinual worshipper of him, and that in the way of his own appointment ; I have an husband, but also a soul, and my soul ought to be more unto me than all the world besides. This soul of mine I will look after, care for, and if 1 can provide it an heaven for its habitation. You are commanded to love me as you love your own body, and so do I love you ; but I tell you true, I prefer my soul before all the world, and its salvation I will seek. At this, first he gave her an ugly wish, and then fell into a fearful rage, and swore more- over that if she did go he would make both her and all her damnable brotherhood (for so he was pleased to call them) to repent their coming thither. Attentive. But what should he mean by that? Wiseman. You may easily guess what he meant: he meant he would turn informer, and so either weary out those that she loved from meeting together to worship God, or make them pay dearly for their so doing; the which, if he did, he knew it would vex every vein of her tender heart. Attentive. But do you think Mr. Badman would have been so base? Wiseman. Truly he had malice and enmity enough in his heart to do it, only he was a tradesman ; also he knew that he must live by his neighbours, and so he had that little wit in his anger that he refrained himself and did it not. But, as I said, he had malice and envy enough in his heart to have made him to do it, only he thought it would worst him in his trade ; yet these three things he would be doing : 1. He would be putting of others on to mo- lest and abuse her friends; 2. He would be glad when he heard that any mischief befell them; 3. And would laugh at her when he saw her troubled for them. And now I have told you Mr. Badman’s way as to this. Attentive. But was he not afraid of the judg- ments of God that did fiv about at that time? Wiseman. He regarded not the judgment nor mercy of God, for had he at all done that he could not have done as he did. But what judgments do you mean? Attentive. Such judgments that if Mr. Bad- man himself had taken but sober notice of, they might have made him hang down his ears. Wiseman. Why, have you heard of any such persons that the judgments of God have over- taken ? Attentive. Yes, and so, I believe, have you too, though you make so strange about it. 516 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. Wiseman. I have so indeed, to my astonish- ment and wonder. Attentive. Pray, therefore, if you please, tell me what it is, as to this, that you know, and then perhaps I may also say something to you of the same. Wiseman. In our town there was one W. S., a man of a very wicked life ; and he, when there seemed to be countenance given to it, would needs turn informer. Well, so he did, and was as diligent in his business as most of them could be ; he would watch of nights, climb trees, and range the woods of days, if possible to find out the meeters, for then they were forced to meet in the fields; yea, he would curse them bitterly, and swear most fearfully what he would do to them when he found them. Well, after he had gone on like a bedlam in his course awhile, and had done some mischiefs to the people, he was stricken by the hand of God, and that in this terrible manner: 1. Although he had his tongue naturally at will, now he was taken with a faltering in his speech, and could not for weeks together speak otherwise than just like a man that was drunk. 2. Then he was taken with a drawling or slabbering at his mouth, which slabber some- times would hang at his mouth wellnigh half way down to the ground. 3. Then he had such a weakness in the back sinews of his neck that ofttimes he could not look up before him, unless he clapped his hand hard upon his forehead and held up his head that way by strength of hand. 4. After this his speech went quite away, and he could speak no more than a swine or a bear. Therefore, like one of them, he would gruntle and make an ugly noise, according as he was offended or pleased, or would have any thing done. &c. In this posture he continued for the space of half a year or thereabouts, all the while other- wise well and could go about his business, save once that he had a fall from the bell as it hangs in our steeple, which it was a wonder it did not kill him ; but after that he also walked about until God had made a sufficient spec- tacle of his judgment for his sin, and then on a sudden he was stricken and died miser- ably ; and so there was an end of him and his doings. I’ll tell you of another. About four miles from St. Neot’s there was a gentleman had a man, and he would needs be an in- former ; and a lusty young man he was. Well, an informer he was, and did much distress some people, and had perfected his information so effectually against some that there was nothing further to do but for the constables to make distress on the people, that he might have their money or goods ; and, as I heard, he hastened them muoh to do it. Now while he was in the heat of his work, as he stood one day by the fireside, he had (it should seem) a mind to a sop in the pan, (for the spit was then at the fire,) so he went to make one; but behold a dog (some say his own favourite dog) took distaste at something and immediately hit his master by the leg; the which bite, not- withstanding all the means that was used to cure him, turned (as was said) to a gangrene; however, that wrnund was his death, and that a dreadful one too, for my relater said that he lay in such a condition by this bite (at the be- ginning) till his flesh rotted from off him be- fore he went out of the world. But what need I instance in particular persons, when the judgment of God against this kind of people was made manifest, I think I may say, if not in all, yet in most of the counties in England where such poor creatures were? But I would, if it had been the will of God, that neither I nor anybody else could tell you more of these stories — true stories that are neither lie nor romance. Attentive. Well, I also heard of both of these myself, and of more too as remarkable in their kind as these, if I had any list to tell them ; but let us leave those that are behind to others or to the coming of Christ, who then will justify or condemn them as the merit of their work shall require; or, if they repented and found mercy, I shall be glad when I know it, for I wish not a curse to the soul of mine enemy. Wiseman. There can be no pleasure in the telling of such stories, though to hear of them may do us a pleasure; they may put us in mind that there is a God that judgeth in the earth, and that doth not always forget nor def hr to hear the cry of the destitute; they also carry along with them both caution and counsel to those that are the survivors of such. Let us tremble at the judgments of God, and be afraid of sinning against him, and it shall be our pro- tection. It shall go well with them that fear God, that fear before him. Attentive. Well, sir, as you have intimated, so I think we have in this place spoken enough about these kind of men ; if you please, let us LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA I) MAN. 517 return again to Mr. Batlman himself, if you have any more to say of him. Wiseman. Morel We have yet scarce thor- oughly began with any thing that we have said. All the particulars are in themselves so full of badness that we have rather only looked in them than indeed said anything to them ; but we will pass them and proceed. You have heard of the sins of his youth, of his appren- ticeship, and how he set up and married, and what a life he hath led his wife; and now I will tell you more of his pranks, lie had the very knack of knavery. Had he, as I said be- fore, been bound to serve an apprenticeship to all these things, -he could not have been more cunning, he could not have been more artificial at it. Attentive. Nor perhaps so artificially either ; for as none can teach goodness like to God himself, so concerning sin and knavery none can teach a man it like the devil, to whom, as I perceive, Mr. Badman went to school from his childhood to the end of his life. But pray, sir, make a beginning. Wiseman. Well, so I will. You may re- member that I told you what a condition he was in for money before he did marry, and how he got a rich wife, with whose money he paid his debts. Now when he had paid his debts, he having some money left, he sets up again as briskly as ever, keeps a great shop, drives a great trade, and runs again a great way into debt; but now, not into the debt of one or two, but into the debt of many, so that at last lie came to owe some thousands of pounds ; and thus he went on for a long time. And to pursue his ends the better, he began now to study to please all men and to suit himself to any company; he could now be as they, say as they — that is, if he listed; and then he would list when he perceived that by so doing he might either make them his cus- tomers or his creditors for his commodities. If he dealt with honest men, (as with some honest men he did,) then he would be as they; talk as they; seem to be sober as they; talk of justice and religion as they; and against debauchery as they ; yea, and would seem to show a dislike of them that said, did, or were otherwise than honest. Again, when he did light among those that were bad, then he would be as they, but yet more close and cautiously, except he were sure of his company ; then he would carry it openly, be as they ; say Damn them ! and, Sink them ! as they. If they railed on good men, so could he; if they railed on religion, so could he; if they talked beastly, vainly, idly, so would he; if they were for drinking, swearing, whoring, or any the like villainies, so was he. This was now the path that he trod in, and could do all as artificially as any man alive. And now he thought himself a perfect man ; he thought ho was always a boy till now. What think you now of Mr. Badman ? Attentive. Think I Why, I think he was an atheist, for no man but an atheist can do this. I say, it cannot be but that the man that is such as this Mr. Badman must be a rank and vile atheist, for he that believes that there is either God or devil, heaven or hell, or death and judgment after, cannot do as Mr. Badman did. I mean, if lie could do these things with- out reluctancy and check of conscience — yea, if he had not sorrow and remorse for such abominable sins as these. Wiseman. Nay, he was so far off from the reluctancies and remorse . of conscience for these things that he counted them the excel- lency of his attainments, the quintessence of his wit, his rare and singular virtues, such as but few besides himself could be the master of. Therefore, as for those that made boggle and stop at things, and that could not in conscience and for fear of death and judgment do such things as he, he would call them fools and noddies, and charge them for being frighted with the talk of unseen bugbears ; and would encourage them, if they would be men indeed, to labour after the attainment of this his ex- cellent art. He would oftentimes please him- self with the thoughts of what he could do in this matter, saying, within himself, I can be religious and irreligious; I can be any thing or nothing; I can swear and speak against swearing; I can lie and speak against lying; I can drink, be unclean, and defraud, and not be troubled for it ; now I enjoy myself and am master of mine own ways, and not they of me. This I have attained with much study, great care, and more pains. But this his talk should be only with himself, to his wife, who he knew durst not divulge it, or among his intimates, to whom he knew he might say any thing. Attentive. Did I call him before an atheist? I may call him now a devil, or a man pos- sessed with one if not with many. I think that there cannot be found in every corner such a one as this. True, it is said of King Ahaz, “That he sinned more and more;” aud of Ahab, “ That he sold himself to work wick- edness;” and of the men of Sodom, “That 518 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. they were sinners exceedingly before the Lord.” Wiseman. An atheist he was no doubt, if there be such a thing as an atheist in the world ; but for all his brags of perfection and security in his wickedness, I believe that at times God did let down fire from heaven into his conscience. True, I believe he would quickly put it out again, and grow more des- perate and wicked afterward, but this also turned to his destruction, as afterward you may hear. But I am not of your mind to think that there are but few such in the world, except you meau as to the degree of wickedness unto which he had attained. For otherwise, no doubt, there are abundance of such as he — men of the same mind, of the same principles, and of the same conscience, too, to put them into practice. Yea, I believe that there are many that are endeavouring to attain to the same pitch of wickedness ; and all of them are such as he in the judgment of the law, nor will their want of hellish wit to attain thereto ex- cuse them at the day of judgment. You know that in all science some are more arch than others ; and so it is in the art, as well as in the practice, of wickedness ; some are twofold and some sevenfold more the children of hell than others, (and yet all the children of hell,) else they would all be masters, and none scholars, in the school of wickedness. But there must be masters, and there must be learners; Mr. Badman was a master in this art, and there- fore it follows that he must be an arch and chief one in that mystery. Attentive. You are in the right, for I per- ceive that some men, though they desire it, cannot be so arch in the practice thereof as others, but are (as I suppose they call them) fools and dunces to the rest; their heads and capacities will not serve them to act and do so wickedly. But Mr. Badman wanted not a wicked head to contrive, as well as a wicked heart to do, this wickedness. Wiseman. True; but yet, I say, such men shall at the day of judgment be judged, not only for what they are, but also for what they would be ; for if the thought of foolishness is sin, doubtless the desire of foolishness is more sin, and if the desire be more, the endeavour after it must needs be more and more. He, then, that is not an artificial atheist and trans- gressor, yet if he desires to be so, if he endeav- oureth to be so, he shall be judged and con- demned to hell for such au one ; for the law judgeth men, as I said, according to what they would be. “ He that looketh upon a woman to lust after her, hath committed adultery with her already in his heart.” By the same rule, he that would steal, doth steal; he that would cheat, doth cheat; he that would swear, doth swear ; and he that would commit adultery, doth do so; for God judgeth men according to the working of their minds; and saith, “As he thinketh, so he is.” That is, so he is in his heart, in his intentions', in his desires, in his endeavours ; and God’s law, I say, lays hold of the desires, intentions, and endeavours, even as it lays hold of the act of wickedness itself. A man, then, that desires to be as bad as Mr. Badman, (and desires to be so wicked have many in their hearts,) though he never attains to that proficiency in wickedness as he, shall yet be judged for as bad a man as he, because it was his in his desires to be such a wicked one. Attentive. But this height of wickedness in Mr. Badman will not get out of my mind. This hard, desperate, or — what shall I call it? — diabolical frame of heart was in him a foun- dation, a groundwork to all acts and deeds that were evil. Wiseman. The heart, and the desperate wick- edness of it, is the foundation and groundwork of all. Atheism professed and practical both spring out of the heart, yea, and all manner of evil besides. For they be not bad deeds that make a bad man, but he is already a bad man that doth bad deeds. A man must be wicked before he can do wickedness. “Wickedness proceedeth from the wicked. It is an evil tree that bears evil fruit. Men gather no grapes of thorns ; the heart, therefore, must be evil before the man can do evil, and good be- fore the man doth good.” Attentive. Now I see the reason why Mr. Badman was so base as to get a wife by dis- simulation, and to abuse her so like a villain when he had got her ; it was because he was before, by a wicked heart, prepared .to act wickedness. Wiseman. You may be sure of it ; “ for from within, out of the heart of man, proceedeth evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lasciv- iousness, au evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolish- ness ; all these things come from within, and defile a man.” And a man, as his naughty mind inclines him, makes use of these, or any of these, to gratify his lusts, to promote his designs, to revenge his malice, to enrich or to LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA I) MAN. 519 wallow himself in the foolish pleasures and pastimes of this life; and all these did Mr. Badman do, even to the utmost, if either oppor- tunity, or purse, or perfidiousness would help him to the obtaining of his purpose. Attentive. Purse! Why, ho could not .but have a purse to do almost what he would, having married a wife with so much money. Wiseman. Hold you there! Some of Mr. Badman’s sins were costly, as his drinking and lewdness, and keeping other bad company, though he was a man that had ways too many to get money, as well as ways too many to spend it. Attentive. Had he then such a good trade, for all he was such a bad man ? Or was his calling so gainful to him as always to keep his purse full, though he was himself a great spender ? Wiseman. No ; it was not his trade that did it, though he had a pretty trade too. He had another way to get money, and that by the hatful and the pocketful at a time. Attentive. Why, I trow he was no highway- man, was he? Wiseman. I will be sparing in my speech as to that, though some have muttered as if he could ride out now and then, about nobody but himself knew what, over night, and come home all dirty and weary next morning. But this is not the thing I aim at. Attentive. Pray let me know it, if you think it convenient that I should. Wiseman. I will tell you. It was this: he had an art to break, and get hats full of money by breaking. Attentive. But what do you mean by Mr. Badman’s breaking ? You speak mystically, do you not ? Wiseman. No, no ; I speak plainly ; or, if you will have it in plainer language, it is this: When Mr. Badman had swaggered and thrown away most of his wife’s portion, he began to feel that he could not much longer stand upon his legs in this course of life and keep up his trade and repute (such as he had) in the world, but by the new engine of breaking. Wherefore, upon a time he gives a great and sudden rush into several men’s debt, to the value of about four or five thousand pounds, driving, at the same time, a very great trade by selling many things for less than they cost him, to get him custom, therewith to blind his creditors’ eyes. His creditors, therefore, see- ing that he had a great employ, and dreaming that it must needs at length turn to a very good account to them, trusted him freely with- out mistrust, and so did others too, to the value of what was mentioned before. Well, when Mr. Badman had well feathered his nest with other men’s goods and money, after a little time he breaks. And by and by it is noised abroad that Mr. Badman had shut up his shop, was gone, and could trade no longer. Now, by the time his breaking had come to his creditors’ ears he had by craft and knavery made so sure of what he had that his creditors could not touch a penny. Well, when he had done, he sent his mournftil, sugared letters to his creditors to let them understand what had happened unto him, and desired them not to be severe with him, for he bore towards all men an honest mind, and would pay so far as he was able. Now he sends his letters by a man confederate with him, who could make both the worst and the best of Mr. Badman’s case — the best for Mr. Badman and the worst for his creditors. So when he comes to them he both bemoans them and condoles Mr. Bad- man’s condition ; telling of them that without a speedy bringing of things to a conclusion, Mr. Badman would be able to make them no satisfaction, but at present he both could and would, and that to the utmost of his power; and to that end he desired that they would come over to him. Well, his creditors appoint him a time and come over; and he meanwhile authorizes another to treat with them, but will not be seen himself, unless it was on a Sunday, lest they should snap him with a writ. So his deputed friend treats with them about their concerns with Mr. Badman, first telling them of the great care that Mr. Badman took to sat- isfy them and all men for whatsoever he owed as far as in him lay, and how little he thought awhile since to be in this low condition. He pleaded also the greatness of his charge, the greatness of taxes, the badness of the times, and the great losses that he had by many of his customers, some of which died in his debt, others were run away, and as for many that were alive, he never expected a farthing from them. Yet nevertheless he would show him- self an honest man, and would pay as far as he was able; and if they were willing to come to terms, he would make a composition with them, for he was not able to pay them all. The creditors asked what he wouid give. It was replied, Half a crown in the pound ; at this they began to huff, and he to renew his complaint and entreaty; but the creditors would not hear, and so for that time their 520 RUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. meeting without success broke up. But after his creditors were in cool blood and admitting of second thoughts, and fearing lest delays should make them lose all, they admit of a second debate, come together again, and by many words and great ado they obtain five shillings in the pound. So the money was pro- duced, releases and discharges drawn, signed, and sealed, books crossed, and all things con- firmed; and then Mr. Badman can put his head out of doors again, and be a better man than when he shut up shop by several thou- sands of pounds. Attentive. And did he do thus indeed? Wiseman. Yes, once and again. I think he broke twice or thrice. Attentive. And did he do it before he had need to do it? Wiseman. Need! What do you mean by need? There is no need at any time for a man to play the knave. He did it of a wicked mind, to defraud and beguile his creditors; he had wherewithal of his father, and also by his wife, to have lived upon, with lawful labour, like an honest man. He had also when he made this wicked break (though he had been a profuse and prodigal spender) to have paid his creditors their own to a farthing. But had he done so he had not done like himself, like Mr. Badman ; had he, I say, dealt like an honest man, he had then gone out of Mr. Bad- man’s road. He did it, therefore, of a dishon- est mind and to a wicked end — to wit, that he might have wherewithal, howsoever unlaw- , fully gotten, to follow his cups and queans, and to live in the swing of his lusts, even as he did before. Attentive. Why, this was a mere cheat. Wiseman. It was a cheat indeed. This way of breaking is nothing else but a more neat way of thieving, of picking of pockets, of breaking open of shops, and of taking from men what one has nothing to do with. But though it seems easy, it is hard to learn ; no man that hath conscience to God or man can ever be his craftmaster in this hellish art. Attentive. Oh, sir, what a wicked man was this ! Wiseman. A wicked man indeed. By this art he could tell how to make men send their goods to his shop, and then be glad to take a penny for that which he had promised, before it came thither, to give them a groat ; I say he could make them glad to take a crown for a pound’s worth, and a thousand for that for which he had promised before to give them four thousand pounds. Attentive. This argueth that Mr. Badman had but little conscience. Wiseman. This argueth that Mr. Badman had no conscience at all ; for conscience, the last spark of a good conscience, cannot endure this. Attentive. Before we go any further in Mr. Badman’s matters, let me desire you, if you please, to give me an answer to these two ques- tions : 1. What do you find in the word of God against such a practice as this of Mr. Bad- man’s is ? 2. What would you have a man do that is in his creditor’s debt, and can neither }3ay him what he owes him nor go on in a trade any longer ? Wiseman. I will answer you as well as I can. And first to the first of your questions — to wit, What I find in the word of God against such a practice as this of Mr. Badman’s is ? Answer. The word of God doth forbid this wickedness, and to make it the more odious in our eyes it joins it with theft and robbery: “Thou shalt not,” says God, “defraud thy neighbour, nor rob him.” Thou shalt not de- fraud — that is, deceive or beguile. Now, thus to break is to defraud, deceive and beguile, which is, as you see, forbidden by the God of heaven. “ Thou shalt not defraud thy neigh- bour, nor rob him.” It is a kind of theft and robbery thus to defraud and beguile. It is a vile robbing of his shop and picking of his 2>ocket; a thing odious to reason and con- science and contrary to the law of nature. It is a designed piece of wickedness, and there- fore a double sin. A man cannot do this great wickedness on a sudden and through a violent assault of Satan. He that will commit this sin must have time to deliberate, that by in- vention he may make it formidable md that with lies and high dissimulation. He that commits this wickedness must first hatch it upon his bed, beat his head about it, and lay his plot strong ; so that to the completing of such a wickedness there must be adjoined many sins, and that they too must .go hand in hand until it be -completed. But what saith the Scripture ? — “ Let no man go beyond and defraud his brother in any matter, because the Lord is the avenger of all such.” But this kind of breaking is a going beyond my brother; this is a compassing of him about, that I may catch him in my net, and, as I said, LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. DAD MAN. 521 an art to rob my brother and to pick his pocket, and that with his consent, which doth not therefore mitigate, but so much the more mag- nify and make odious the offence. For men that are thus wilily abused cannot help them- selves: they are taken in a deceitful net. But God will here concern himself; he will be the avenger, he will be the avenger of all such, either here or in another world. And this the apostle testifies where hesaith, “But he thatdoeth wrong shall receive for the wrong which he hath done; and there is no respect of persons;” that is, there is no man, be he what be will, if he be guilty of this sin of going beyond, of beguiling of, and doing- wrong to bis brother, but God will call him to an account for it, and will pay him with vengeance for it too, for there is no respect of persons. I might add that this sin of wronging, of going beyond and defrauding of my neighbour is like that first prank that the devil played with our first parents, (as the altar that Uriah built for Ahaz was taken from the fashion of that that stood at Damascus, to be the very pattern of it.) The serpent beguiled me, says Eve; Mr. Badman beguiles his creditors. The serpent beguiled Eve with lying promises of gain ; so did Mr. Badman beguile his creditors. The serpent said one thing and meant another when he beguiled Eve ; and so did Mr. Bad- man when lie beguiled his creditors. That man, therefore, that doth thus deceive and beguile his neighbour imitateth the devil; he taketh his examples from him, and not from God, the word, or good men ; and this did Mr. Badman. And now to your second question — to wit, What I would have a man do that is in his creditor’s debt, and that can neither pay him nor go on in a trade any longer? Answer. First of all, if this be his case, and he knows it, let him not run one penny further in his creditor’s debt, for that cannot be done with good conscience. He that knows he can- not pay, and yet will run into debt, does know- ingly wrong and defraud his neighbour, and falls under that sentence of the word of God, “The wicked borroweth, and payeth not again ;” yea, worse, he borrows, though at the very same time he knows that he cannot pay again. He doth also craftily take away what is his neighbour’s. That is therefore the first thing that I would propound to such, Let him not run any further into his creditor’s debt. Secondly. After this let him consider how and by what means he was brought into such a condition that he could not pay bis just debts — to wit, whether it was by bis own re- missness in his calling, by living too high in diet or apparel, by lending too lavishly that which was none of his own, to his loss, or whether by the immediate hand and judgment of God. If by searching he finds that this is come upon him through remissness in bis calling, extravagancies in his family or the like, let him labour for a sense of his sin and wicked- ness, for he has sinned against the Lord — first, in his being slothful in business, and in not providing, to wit, of his own, by the sweat of his brows or other honest ways, for those of his own house. And secondly, in being lavishing in diet and apparel in the family, or in lending to others that which was none of his own. This cannot be done with good conscience; it is both against reason and nature, and there- fore must be a sin against God. I say therefore, if thus this debtor hath done, if ever he would live quietly in conscience and comfortably in his condition for the future, let him humble himself before God and repent of this his wickedness; for “he that is slothful in his work is brother to him that is a great waster.” To be slothful and a waster too is to be, as it were, a double sinner. But again, as this man should inquire into these things, so he should also into this : How came I into this way of dealing in which I have now miscarried? Is it a way that my parents brought me up in, put me apprentice to, or that by Providence I was first thrust into? Or is it a way into which I have twisted myself, as not being contented with my first lot that by God and my parents I was cast into? This ought duly to be considered; and if upon a search a man shall find that he is out of the place and calling into which he was put by his parents or the providence of God, and has miscarried in a new way, which, through pride and dislike of his first state, he has chose rather to embrace, his miscarriage is his sin, the fruit of his pride, and a token of the judg- ment of God upon him for his leaving of his first state. And for this he ought, as for the former, to be humble and penitent before the Lord. But if by search he finds that his poverty came by none of these— if by honest search he finds it so, and can say with good con- science, I went not out of my place and state in which God by his providence had put me, but 522 BUNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. have abode with God in the calling wherein I was called, and have wrought hard and fared meanly, been civilly apparelled, and have not directly or indirectly made away with my creditors’ goods — then has his fall come upon him by the immediate, hand of God, whether by visible or invisible ways. For sometimes it comes by visible ways — to wit, by fire, by thieves, by loss of cattle, or the wickedness of sinful dealers, &c., and sometimes by means invisible, and then no man knows how ; we only see things are going, but cannot see by what way they go. Well, now suppose that a man by the immediate hand of God is brought to a morsel of bread, what must he do now? I answer, his surest way is still to think that this is the fruit of some sin ; though possibly not sin in the management of his calling, yet of some other sin. “ God castetli away the substance of the wicked.” Therefore let him still humble himself before his God, because his hand is upon him, and say, What sin is this for which the hand of God is upon me? And let him be diligent to find it out, for some sin is the cause of this judgment; for God “doth not willingly grieve nor afflict the children of men.” Either thy heart is too much set upon the world, or religion is too much neglected in thy family, or something. There is a snake in the grass, a worm in the gourd, some sin in thy bosom, for the sake of which God doth thus deal with thee. Thirdly. This thus done, let that man again consider thus with himself: Perhaps God is now changing of my condition and state in the world; he has let me live in fashion, in ful- ness, and abundance of worldly glory, and I did not to his glory improve as I should that his good . dispensation to me. But when I lived in full and fat pasture I did there lift up the heel. Therefore he will now turn me into hard commons, that with leanness, and hunger, and meanness, and want I may spend the rest of my days. But let him do this without murmuring and repining; let him do it in a godly manner, submitting himself to the judg- ment of God. “Let the rich rejoice in that he is made low.” This is duty, and it may be privilege, to those that are under this hand of God. And for thy encouragement to this hard work (for this is a hard work) consider of these four things: 1. This is right lying down under God’s hand, and the way to be exalted in God’s time; when God would have Job embrace the dung- hill, he embraces it and says, “The Lord giv- eth, and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord.” 2. Consider that there are blessings also that attend a low condition, more than all the world are aware of. A poor condition has prevent- ing mercy attending of it. The poor, because they are poor, are not capable of sinning against God as the rich man does. 3. The poor can more clearly see himself preserved by the providence of God than the rich, for* he trusteth in the abundance of his riches. 4. It may be God has made thee poor be- cause he would make thee rich: “Hearken, my beloved brethren, hath not God chosen the poor of this world, rich in faith, and heirs of a kingdom which God hath promised to them that love him ?” I am persuaded if men upon whom this hand of God is would thus quietly lie down and humble themselves under it, they would find more peace, yea, more blessing of God, attending them in it than the most of men are aware of. But this is an hard chapter, and therefore I do not expect that many should either read it with pleasure or desire to take my counsel. Having thus spoken to the broken man with reference to his own self, I will now speak to him as he stands related to his creditors. In the next place, therefore, .let him fall upon the most honest way of dealing with his creditors, and that I think must be this : First. Let him timely make them acquainted with his condition, and also to do them these three things : 1. Let him heartily and unfeignedlv ask them forgiveness for the wrong that he has done them. 2. Let him proffer them all, and the whole all, that ever he has in the world ; let him hide nothing, let him strip himself to his raiment for them ; let him not keep a ring, a spoon, or any thing from them. 3. If none of these two will satisfy them, let him proffer them his body to be at their dis- posal — to wit, either to abide imprisonment at their pleasure or to be at their service, till by labour and travail he hath made them such amends as they in reason think fit; only re- serving something for the succour of his poor, distressed family out of his labour, which in reason, and conscience, and nature he is bound also to take care of. Thus shall he make them what amends he is able for the wrong that he LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. D ADMAN. 523 hath dona them in wasting and spending their estates. By thus doing he submits himself to God’s rod, commits himself to the disposal of his providence ; yea, by thus doing he casteth the lot of bis present and future condition into the lap of his creditors, and leaves the whole dis- posal thereof to the Lord, even as he shall order and incline their hearts to do witli them. And let that be either to forgive him or to take that which he hath for satisfaction, or to lay his body und :r affliction, this way or* that, ac- cording to law — can he, I say, thus leave the whole to God, let the issue be what it will, that man shall have peace in his mind after- wards. And the comforts of that state (which will be the comforts that attend equity, justice, and duty) will be more unto him, because more according to godliness, than can be the comforts that are the fruits of injustice, fraud- ulency, and deceit. Besides, this is the way to engage God to favour him by the sentence of his creditors, (for he can entreat them to use him kindly,) and he will do it when his ways are pleasing in his sight: “When a man’s ways please the Lord, his enemies shall be at peace with him.” And surely for a man to seek to make restitution for wrongs done to the utmost of his power, by what he is, has, and enjoys in this world, is the best way, in that capacity and with reference to that thing, that a man can at this time be found active in. But he that doth otherwise abides in his sin, refuses to be disposed of by the providence of God. chooseth an high estate, though not at- tained in God’s way, when God’s will is that he should descend into a low one ; yea, he des- perately saith in his heart and actions, I will be mine own chooser, and that in mine own way, whatever happens or follows thereupon. Attentive. You have said well, in my mind. But suppose, now, that Mr. Badman was here, could he not object as to what you have said, saying, Go and teach your brethren that are professors this lesson, for they, as I am, are guilty of breaking, yea, I am apt to think, of that which you call my knavish way of break- ing — to wit, of breaking before they have need to break. But if not so, yet they are guilty of neglect in their call, of living higher, both in fare and apparel, than their trade or income will maintain. Besides, that they do break all the world very well knows ; and that they have the art to plead for a composition is very well known to men ; and that it is usual with them to hide their linen, their plate, their jewels (and, it is to be thought, sometimes money and goods besides) is as common as four eggs a penny. And thus they beguile men, debauch their consciences, sin against their profession, and make, it is to be feared, their lusts in all this, and the fulfilling of them their end. I say, if Mr. Badman was here to object thus unto you, what would be your reply? Wiseman. What! Why I would say, I hope no good man, no man of good conscience, no man that either fearctli God, regardeth the credit of religion, the peace of God’s people, or the salvation of his own soul, will do thus. Professors, such perhaps there may be, and who upon earth can help it? Jades there be of all colours. If men will profess, and make their profession a stalking-horse to beguile their neighbours of their estates, as Mr. Bad- man himself did when he beguiled her that now is with sorrow his wife, who can help it? The churches of old were pestered with such, and therefore no marvel if these perilous, diffi- cult times be so. But mark how the apostle words it : “ Nay, you do wrong and defraud, and that your brethren. Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God ? Be not deceived ; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor re- vilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the king- dom of God.” None of these shall be saved in this state, nor shall profession deliver them from the censure of the godly when they shall be mani- fest such to be. But their profession we can- not help ; how can we help it if men should ascribe to themselves the title of holy ones, godly ones, zealous ones, self-denying ones, or any other such glorious titles? And while they thus call themselves, should they be the veriest rogues for all evil, sin, villainy imagin- able, who can help it? True, they are a scan- dal to religion, a grief to the honest-hearted, an offence to the world, and a stumbling-stone to the weak ; and these offences have come, do come, and will come, do what all the world can, “ but woe be to them through whom they come.” Let such professors, therefore, be dis- owned by all true Christians, and let them be reckoned among those base men of the world which by such actions they most resemble. They are Mr. Badman’s kindred. For they are a shame to religion ; I say, these slithy, rob-shop, pickpocket men, they are a shame to religion, and religious meu 524 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. should be ashamed of them. God puts such au one among the fools of the world ; therefore let not Christians put them among those that are wise for heaven : “ As the partridge sitteth on eggs and hatcheth them not, so he that get- teth riches, and not by right, shall leave them in the midst of his days, and at his end shall be a fool.” And the man under consideration is one of these, and therefore must look to fall by this judgment. * A professor, and practise such villainies as these ! Such an one is not worthy to hear that name any longer. We may say to such, as the prophet spake to their like — to wit, to the re- bellious that were in the house of Israel — “Go ye, serve every man his idols,” if you will not hearken to the law and testament of God to lead your lives hereafter, “but pollute God’s holy name no more with your gifts and with your idols.” Go, professors, go ; leave off profession, un- less you will lead your lives according to your profession. Better never profess than make profession a stalking-horse to sin, deceit, to the devil, and hell. The ground and rules of religion allow hot any such thing. “Receive us,” says the apos- tle: “ we have wronged no man, we have cor- rupted no man, we have defrauded no man intimating that those that are guilty of wrong- ing, corrupting, or defrauding of any should not be admitted to the fellowship of saints, no, nor into the common catalogue of brethren with them. Nor can men, with all their rhetoric and eloquent speaking, prove themselves fit for the kingdom of heaven or men of good conscience on earth. Oh that godly plea of Samuel ! “ Behold here I am,” says he : “ witness against me, before the Lord, and before his anointed, whose ox have I taken, or whose ass have I taken ; or whom have I defrauded, whom have I oppressed,” &c. This was to do like a man of good conscience indeed ; and in this his ap- peal he was so justified in the consciences of the whole congregation that they could not but with one voice, as with one mouth, break out jointly and say, “ Thou hast not defrauded us, nor oppressed us.” A professor, and defraud ! Away with him ! A professor should not owe any man any thing but love. A professor should provide things not of other men’s, but of his own, of his own honest getting, and that not only in the sight of God, but of all men, that he may adorn the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things. Attentive. But suppose God should blow u pon a professor in his estate and calling, and he should be run out before he is aware, must he be accounted to be like Mr. Badman, and he under the same reproach as he? Wiseman. No, if he hath dutifully done what he could to avoid it. It is possible for a ship to sink at sea notwithstanding the most faith- ful endeavour of the most skilful pilot under heaven. And thus, as I suppose, it was w'ith the prophet that left his wife in debt, to the hazarding the slavery of her children by the creditors. He was no profuse man, nor one that was given to defraud, for the text says, “ he feareth the Lord,” yet, as I said, he was run out more than he could pay. If God would blow upon a man, who can help it ? And he will do so sometimes, because he will change dispensations with men, and because he will try their graces; yea, also be- cause he will overthrow the wicked with his judgments; and all these things are seen in Job. But then the consideration of this should bid men have a care that they be honest, lest this comes upon them for their sin. It should also bid them beware of launching further into the world than in an honest way by ordinary means they can godlily retreat ; for the further in the greater the fall. It should also teach them to beg of God his blessing upon their endeavours. And it should put upon them a diligent looking to their steps, that if in their going they should hear the ice crack they may timely go back again. These things considered and duly put in practice, if God will blow upon a man, then let him be content, and with Job embrace the dunghill ; let him give unto all their dues, and not fight against the providence of God, but humble himself rather under his mighty hand, which comes to strip him naked and bare; for he that doth otherwise fights against God, and declares that he is a stranger to that of Paul : “ I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound ; everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” Attentive. But Mr. Badman would not, I be- lieve, have put this difference betwixt things feigned and those, that fall of necessity. Wiseman. If he will not, God will, conscience will ; and that not thine own only, but the con- sciences of all those that have seen the way and that have known the truth of the condition of such an one. Attentive. Well, let us at this time leave LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BAD MAN. 625 this matter, and return again to Mr. Bad- man. Wiseman. With all my heart will I proceed to give you a relation of what is yet behind of his life, in order to our discourse of his death. Attentive. But pray do it with as much brev- ity as you can. Wiseman. Why, arc you weary of my re- lating of things? Attentive. No, but it pleases me to hear a great deal in a few words. Wiseman. I profess myself not an artist in that way, but yet, as briefly as I can, I will pass through what of his life is behind ; and again I shall begin with his fraudulent dealing (as before I have showed with his creditors, so now) with his customers, and those that he had otherwise to deal withal. lie dealt by deceitful weights and measures. He kept weights to buy by and weights to sell by ; measures to buy by and measures to sell by ; those he bought by were too big, those that he sold by were too little. Besides, he could use a thing, called sleight of hand, if he had to do with other men’s weights and measures, and by that means make them, whether he did buy or sell, yea, though his customer or chapman looked on, turn to his own advantage. Moreover, he had the art to misreckon men in their accounts, whether by weight, or measure, or money, and would often do it to his worldly advantage and their loss ; what say you to Mr. Badman now? And if a question was made of his faithful dealing, he had his servants ready, that to his purpose he had brought up, that would avouch and swear to his book or word ; this was Mr. Badman’s practice; what think you of Mr. Badman now? Attentive. Think ! Why I can think no other but that he was a man left to himself, a naughty man; for these, as his other, were naughty things; if the tree, as indeed it may, ought to be judged what it is by its fruits, then Mr. Badman must needs be a bad tree. But pray, for my further satisfaction, show me now by the word of God the evil of this his practice ; and first, of his using false weights and mea- sures. Wiseman. The evil of that ! Why the evil of that appears to every eye ; the heathens, that live like beasts and brutes in many things, do abominate and abhor such wickedness as this. Let a man but look upon these things as ire goes by, and he shall see enough in them from the light of nature to make him loatheso base a practice, although Mr. Badman loved it. Attentive. But show me something out of the word against it, will you? Wiseman. I will willingly do it. And first, look into the Old Testament: “You shall,” saith God there, “ do no unrighteousness in judgment, in metre-yard, in weights, or in measures; a just balance, a just weight, a just ephah, and a just hin shall you have.” This is the law of God, and that which all men, ac- cording to the law of the land, ought to obey. So again : “ Ye shall have just balances and a just ephah,” &c. Now, having showed you the law, I will also show you how God takes swerving therefrom : “ A false balance is not good ; a false balance is an abomination to the Lord.” Some have just weights, but false balances; and by vir- tue, of these false balances, by these just weights, they deceive the country. Where- fore, God first of all commands that the bal- ance be made just. A just balance shalt thou have, else they may be, as ye are, deceivers, notwithstanding their just weights. Now, having commanded that men have a just balance, and testifying that a false one is an abomination to the Lord, he proceedeth also unto weight and measure. “Thou shalt not have in thy bag divers weights, a great and small;” that is, one to buy by and another to sell by, as Mr. Badman had. “ Thou shalt not have in thy house di- vers measures, a great and a small ; ” and these had Mr. Badman also; “but thou shalt have a perfect and a just weight; a perfect and a just measure shalt thou have, that thy days may be lengthened in the laud which the Lord thy God givetli thee. For all that do such things” — that is, that use false weights and measures — “and all that do unrighteously, are abomination to the Lord.” See now both how plentiful and how punctual the Scripture is in this matter. But perhaps it may be objected that all this is old law, and therefore hath nothing to do with us under the New Testa- ment. (Not that I think you, neighbour, will object thus.) Well, to this foolish objection let us make an answer : First, he that makes this objection, if he doth it to overthrow the au- thority of those texts, discovereth that he is first cousin to Mr. Badman, for a just man is willing to speak reverently of those commands. That man therefore hath, I doubt, but little conscience, if any at all that is good, that thus objecteth against the text ; but let us look into 526 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. the New Testament, and there we shall see how Christ confirmeth the same, where he commandeth that men make to others good measure, including also that they make good weight ; telling such that do thus or those that do it not, that they may be encouraged to do it, “ Good measure, pressed down, shaken to- gether and running over, shall men give into your bosom ; for the same measure that ye mete withal, it shall be measured to you again;” to wit, both from God and man. For as God will show his indignation against the false man by taking away even that he hath, so he will deliver up the false man to the oppressor, and the extortioner shall catch from him as well as he hath catched from his neighbour ; therefore another Scripture saith, “ When thou shalt cease to deal treacherously, they shall deal treacherously with thee.” That the New Testament hath an inspection .also into men’s trading, yea, even with their weights and measures, is evident from these general exhortations : “ Defraud not ; lie not one to another ; let no man go beyond his brother in any matter, for God is the avenger of all such ; whatsoever you do, do it heartily as unto the Lord, doing all in his name to his glory ; ” and the like. All these injunctions and command- ments do respect our life and conversation among men with reference to our dealing, trading, and so consequently they forbid false, deceitful, yea, all other doings that are cor- rupt. Having thus in a word or two showed you that these things are bad, I will next, for the conviction of those that use them, show you where they are to be found: 1. They are not to be found in the house of the good and godly man, for he, as his God, abhors them ; but they are to be found in the house of evil-doers, such as Mr. Badman’s is. “ Are there,” saith the jorophet, “ yet the treas- ures of wickedness in the house of the wicked, and scant measure that is an abomination?” Are they there yet, notwithstanding God’s for- bidding, notwithstanding God’s token of anger against those that do such things ? Oh how loth is a wicked man to let go a sweet, a gain- ful sin when he hath hold of it! They hold fast deceit, they refuse to let it go. 2. These deceitful weights and measures are not to be found in the house of the merciful, but in the house of the cruel, in the house of them that love to oppress: “ The balances of deceit are in his hand ; he loveth to oppress.” He is given to oppression and cruelty, there- fore he useth such wicked things in his calling. Yea, he is a very cheat; and, as was hinted before concerning Mr. Badman’s breaking, so I say now concerning his using these deceitful weights and measures, it is as bad, as base as to take a purse or pick a pocket, for it is a plain robbery ; it takes away from a man that which is his own, even the price of his money. 3. The deceitful weights and measures are not to be found in the house of such as relieve the belly and that cover the loins of the poor, but of such as indeed would swallow them up. “ Hear ye this, ye that swallow up the needy, and that make the poor of the land to fail, saying, When will the new moon be gone, that we may sell corn ? and the sabbath, that we may set forth wheat, making the ephah small and the shekel great, (making the measure small and the price great,) and falsifying the balances by deceit, that ye may buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of shoes, and sell the refuse of the wdieat? The Lord hath sworn by the excellency of Jacob, Surely I will not forget any of their works.” So de- testable and vile a thing is this in the sight of God. 4. God abominates the thought of calling of those that use false weights and measures by any other term than that they be impure ones or the like : “ Shall I count them pure (saith he) with the bag of deceitful weights?” No, by no means ; they are impure ones, their hands are defiled, deceitful gain is in their houses; they have gotten what they have by coveting an evil covetousness, and therefore must and shall be counted among the impure, among the wicked of the world. Thus you see how full and plain the word of God is against this sin, and them that use it. And therefore Mr. Badman, for that he used by these things thus to rook and cheat his neighbours, is rightly rejected from having his name in and among the catalogue of the godly. Attentive. But I am persuaded that the using of these things, and the doing by them thus deceitfully, is not counted so great an evil by some. Wiseman. Whether it be counted an evil or a virtue by men, it mattereth not; you see by the Scriptures the judgment of God upon it. It was not counted an evil by Mr. Badman, nor is it by any that still are treading in his steps. But I say it is no matter how men esteem of things — let us adhere to the judg- ment of God. And the rather because, when LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BAD MAN. 527 we ourselves have clone weighing and measur- ing to others, then God will weigh and meas- ure both us and our actions. And when he doth so, as he will do shortly, then woe be to him of whom and of whose actions it shall be thus said by him: “Tekel, thou art weighed in the balance and art found wanting.” God will then recompense their evil of deceiving upon their own head, when lie shall have shut them out of his presence, favour and kingdom for ever and ever. Attentive. But it is a wonder that since Mr. Badmau’s common practice was to do thus, some one or more did not find him out and blame him for this his wickedness. Wiseman. For the generality of people he went away clever with his knavery. For what with his balance, his false balance and good weight, and what with his sleight of hand to boot, he beguiled, sometimes a little and some- times more, most that he had to deal with ; be- sides, those that use this naughty trade are either such as blind men by show of religion or by hectoring of the buyer out of words. I must confess Mr. Badman was not so arch at the first — that is, to do it by show of religion — for he now began to grow threadbare, (though some of his brethren are arch enough this way, yea, and of his sisters too; for I told you at first that there were a great many of them, and never a one of them good;) but for hector- ing, for swearing, for lying, if these things would make weight and measure, they should not be wanting to Mr. Badman’s customers. Attentive. Then it seems he kept good weights and a bad balance; well, that was better than that both should be bad. Wiseman. Not at all. There lay the depth of his deceit; for if any at any time found fault that he used them hardly, and that they wanted their weight of things, he would reply, Why, did you not see them weighed? will you not believe your own eyes? If you question my weights, pray carry them whither you will, I will maintain them to be good and just. The same he would say of his scales. So he blinded all by his balance. Attentive. This is cunning indeed; but, as you say, there must be also something done or said to blind wherewith; and this I perceive Mr. Badman had. Wiseman. Yes, he had many ways to blind; but he was never clever at it by making a show of religion, though he cheated his wife there- with; for he was, especially by those that dwelt near him, too well known to do that, though he would bungle at it as well as he could. But there are some that are arch vil- lains this way; they shall, to view, live a whole life religiously, and yet shall be guilty of these most horrible sins, ar.d yet religion in itself is never the worst, nor yet the profes- sors of it. But as Luther says, In the name of God begins all mischief. For the hypocrites have no other way to bring their evils to ma- turity but by using and mixing the name of God and religion therewith. Thus they be- come whited walls, for by this white, the white of religion, the dirt of their actions is hid. Thus also they become graves that ap- pear not, and they that go over them, (that have to do with them.) they are not aware of them, but suffer themselves to be deluded by them ; yea, if there shall, as there will some- times, rise a doubt in the heart of the buyer about the weight and measure he should have, why he suffereth his very senses to be also de- luded by recalling of his chapman’s religion to mind, and thinks verily that not his good chapman but himself is out, for he dreams not that his chapman can deceive. But if the buyer shall find it out, and shall make it ap- parent that he is beguiled, then shall he be healed by having amends made, and perhaps fault shall be laid upon servants, &c. ; and so Master Cheat shall stand for a right honest man in the eye of his customer, though the next time he shall pick his pocket again. Some plead custom for their cheat, as if that could acquit them before the tribunal of God; and others say it came to them for so much, and therefore another must take it for so much, though there is wanting both as to weight and measure; but in all these things there are juggles, or if not, such must know that that which is “ altogether just they must do.” Suppose that I be cheated myself with a brass half crown, must I therefore cheat another therewith? If this be bad in the whole, it is also bad in the parts. Therefore, however thou art dealt withal in thy buying, yet thou must deal justly in selling, or thou sinnest against thy soul and art become as Mr. Bad- man. And know that a pretence to custom is nothing worth. It is not custom, but good conscience, that will help at God’s tribunal. Attentive. But I am persuaded that that which is gotten by men this way doth them but little good. Wiseman. I am of your mind for that, but this is not considered by those thus minded; for if they can get it, though they thus get, as 528 BUN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. we say, the devil and all by their getting, yet they are content, and count that their getting is much. Little good! Why, do you think they consider that? No; no more than they con- sider what they shall do in judgment, at the day of God Almighty, for their wrong getting of what they get, and that is just nothing at all. But to give you a more direct answer. This kind of getting is so far off from doing them little good that it doth them no good at all, because thereby they lose their own souls. “What shall it profit a man if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul?” He loseth then, he loseth greatly, that getteth after this fashion. This is the man that is penny- wise and pound-foolish ; this is he that loseth his good ship for a halfpenny worth of tar, that loseth a soul for a little of the world. And then what doth he get thereby but loss and damage ? Thus he getteth, or rather loseth, about the world to come ; but what doth he get in this world more than travail and sorrow, vexation of spirit, and disappoint- ment? Men aim at blessedness in getting — I mean at temporal blessedness — but the man that thus getteth shall not have that. For though an inheritance after this manner may be hastily gotten at the beginning, yet the end thereof shall not be blessed. They gather it indeed, and think to keep it too; but what says Solomon? “God casteth it away. The Lord will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish, but he casteth away the substance of the wicked.” The time, as I said, that they do enjoy it, it shall do them no good at all; but long, to be sure, they must not have it. For God will either take it away in their lifetime or else in the generation following, according to that of Job : “ He (the wicked) may prepare it, but the just shall put it on and the innocent shall divide the silver.” Consider that also which is written in the Proverbs: “A good man leaveth an inherit- ance to his children’s children, and the wealth of the sinner is laid up for the just.” What then doth he get thereby that getteth by dis- honest means? Why, he getteth sin and wrath, hell and damnation ; and now tell me how much he doth get? This, I say, is his getting ; so that as David says we may be bold to say too: “I beheld the wicked in great prosperity, and presently I cursed his habitation ;” for it cannot prosper with him. Fluster, and huff, and make ado for awhile he may, but God hath determined that both he and it shall melt like grease ; and any observing man may see it so. Behold the unrighteous man, in a way of injustice, getteth much and loadeth himself with thick clay, but anon it withereth, it decayeth, and even he, or the generation following, decline and return to beggary. And thus Mr. Badman, notwithstanding his cunning and crafty tricks to get money, did die, nobody can tell whether worth a farthing or no. Attentive. He had all the bad tricks, I think, that it was possible for a man to have to get money; one would think that he should have been rich. Wiseman. You reckon too fast if you count these all his bad tricks to get money, for he had more besides. If his customers were in his books, (as it should go hard but he would have them there, at least if he thought he could make any ad- vantage of them,) then he would be sure to im- pose upon them his worst, even very bad com- modity, yet set down for it the price that the best was sold at : like those that sold the re- fuse wheat or the worst of the wheat, making the shekel great, yet hoisting up the price; this was Mr. Badman’s way. He would sell goods that cost him not the best price by far for as much as he sold his best of all. He had also a trick to mingle his commodity, that that which was bad might go off with the least distrust. Besides, if his customers at any time paid him money, let them look to themselves and to their acquittances, for he would usually at- tempt to call for that payment again, especially if he thought that there were hopes of making a prize thereby ; and then to be sure if they could not produce good and sufficient ground of payment, a hundred to one but they pay it again. Sometimes the honest chapman would appeal to his servants for proof of the payment of money, but they were trained up by him to say after his mind, right or wrong; so that re- lief that way he could get none. Attentive. It is a bad, yea, an abominable thing, for a man to have such servants, for by such means a poor customer may be undone, and not know how to help himself. Alas ! if the master be so unconscionable, as I perceive Mr. Badman was, to call for his money twice, and if his servant will swear that it is a due debt, where is any help for such a man ? He must sink, there is no remedy. LIFE A ND DEATH OF MR. BARMAN. 529 Wiseman. This is very bad, but this has been a practice, and that hundreds of years ago. But wlmt saitli the word of God? — “I will punish all those that leap upon the thres- hold, which fdl their masters’ houses with vio- lence and deceit.” Mr. Badman also had this art, could he get a man at advantage — that is, if his chapman durst not go from him, or if the commodity he wanted could not for the present he conveni- ently had elsewhere — then let him look to him- self; lie would surely make his purse-strings crack ; he would exact upon him without any pity or conscience. Attentive. That was extortion, was it not? I pray let me hear your judgment of extortion, what it is, and when committed? Wiseman. Extortion is a screwing from men more than by the law of God or man is right; and it is committed sometimes by them in office about fees, rewards, and the like, but it is most commonly committed by men of trade, who, without all conscience when they have the advantage, will make a prey of their neighbour. And thus was Mr. Badman an extortioner, for although he did not exact and force away as bailiffs and clerks used to do, yet he had his opportunities, and such cruelty to make use of them that he would often, in his way, be extorting and forcing of money out of his neighbour’s pocket. For every man that makes a prey of his advantage upon his neigh- bour’s necessities, to force from him more than in reason and conscience, according to the present price of things, such commodity is worth, may very well be called an extortioner, and judged for one that hath no inheritance in the kingdom of God. Attentive. Well, this Badman was a sad wretch. Wiseman. Thus you have often said before. But now we are in discourse of this, give me leave a little to go on. We have a great many people in the country too who live all their days in the practice, and so under the guilt, of extortion ; people, alas ! that scorn to be so accounted. As for example : There is a poor body that dwells, we will suppose, so many miles from the market ; and this man wants a bushel of grain, a pound of butter, or a cheese for him- self, his wife, and poor children ; but dwelling so for from the market, if he goes thither he shall lose a day’s work, which shall be eight or ten pence damage to him, and that is some- thing for a poor man. So he goeth to one of 34 his masters or dames for what he wanteth, and asks them to help him with such a thing. Ye^ say they, you may have it; but withal they will give him a gripe, perhaps make him pay as much or more for it at home than they can get when they have carried it five miles to a market; yea, and that too for the refuse of their commodity. But in this the women are especially faulty in the sale of their butter and cheese, &c. Now this is a kind of extortion, it is a making a prey of the necessity of the poor, it is a grinding of their faces, a buying and selling of them. But above all, your hucksters, that buy the poor man’s victuals by wholesale and sell it to him again for unreasonable gains by retail, and, as we call it, by piecemeal, they are got into a way after a stinging rate to play their game upon such by extortion. I mean such who buy up butter, cheese, eggs, bacon, &c., by wholesale, and sell it again, as they call it, by penny-worths, twopenny- worths, a half- pennyworth, or the like, to the poor, all the week after the market is past. These, though I will not condemn them all, do many of them bite and pinch the poor by this kind of evil dealing. These destroy the poor because he is poor, and that is a, grievous sin. “ He that oppresseth the poor to increase his riches, and that giveth to the rich, shall surely come to want.” Therefore he saitli again, “ Bob not the poor because he is poor, neither oppress the afflicted in the gate; for the Lord will plead their cause, and spoil the soul of them that spoil them.” Oh, that he that gripetli and grindeth the face of the poor would take notice of these two Scriptures ! Here is threatened the destruc- tion of the estate, yea, and of the soul too, of them that oppress the poor. Their soul ! we shall better see where and in what condition that is in when the day of doom is come ; but for the estates of such, they usually quickly moulder, and that sometimes all men, and sometimes no man, knows how. Besides, these are usurers ; yea, they take usury for victuals, which thing the Lord has forbidden. And because they cannot so well do it on the market-day, therefore they do it, as I said, when the market is over, for then the poor fall into their mouths, and are neces- sitated to have as they can for their need, and they are resolved they shall pay soundly for it. Perhaps some will find fault for my meddling thus with other folks’ matters, and for my thus prying into the secrets of their iniquity. But 530 BTJNYAN’S COMPLETE WORKS. to such I would say, Since such actions are evil, it is time they were hissed out of the world ; for all that do such things offend against God, wrong their neighbour, and, like Mr. Badman, do provoke God to judgment. Attentive. God knows that there is abun- dance of deceit in the world ! Wiseman. Deceit! Ay, but I have not told you a thousandth part of it, nor is it my busi- ness now to rake to the bottom of that dung- hill. What would you say if I should anatom- ize some of those villainous wretches called pawn-brokers, that lend money and goods to poor people who are by necessity forced to such an inconvenience, and will make by one trick or other the interest of what they so lend amount to thirty, forty, yea, sometimes fifty, pound by the year, notwithstanding the prin- cipal is secured by a sufficient pawn, which they will keep too at last if they can find any shift to cheat the wretched borrower? Attentive. Say ! Why such miscreants are the pest and vermin of the commonwealth, not fit for the society of men. But metliinks by some of those things you discoursed before you seem to import that it is not lawful for a man to make the best of his own. Wiseman. If by making the best you mean to sell for as much as by hook or crook he can get for his commodity, then I say it is not law- ful. And if I should say the contrary, I should justify Mr. Badman and all the rest of that gang ; but that I shall never do, for the word of God condemns them. But that it is not lawful for a man at all times to sell his com- modity for as much as he can, I prove by these reasons : 1. If it be lawful for me always to sell my commodity as dear or for as much as I can, then it is lawful for me to lay aside in my dealing with others good conscience to them and to God ; but it is not lawful for me in my dealing with others to lay aside good con- science, &c. Therefore it is not lawful for me always to sell my commodity as dear or for as much as I can. That it is not lawful to lay aside good con- science in our dealings has already been proved in the former part of our discourse, but that a man must lay it aside that will sell his com- modity always as dear or for as much as he can is plainly manifest thus : (1.) He that will (as is mentioned afore) sell his commodity as dear as he can must some- times make a prey of the ignorance of his neighbour; but that he cannot do with a good conscience, for that is to overreach and to gc beyond his neighbour, and is forbidden. 1 Thess. iv. 6. Therefore he that will sell his commodity, as afore, as dear or for as much as he can, must of necessity lay aside a good con- science. (2.) He that will sell his commodity always as dear as he can must needs sometimes make a prey of his neighbour’s necessity ; but that he cannot do with a good v conscience, for that is to go beyond and defraud his neighbour, contrary to 1 Thess. iv. 6. Therefore, he that will sell his commodity, as afore, as dear or for as much as he can must needs cast off and lay aside a good conscience. (3.) He that will, as afore, sell his commod- ity as dear or for as much as he can must, if need be, make a prey of his neighbour’s fond- ness; but that a man cannot do with a good conscience, for that is still going beyond him, contrary to 1 Thess. iv. 6. Therefore, he that will sell his commodity as dear or for as much as he can must needs cast off and lay aside a good conscience. The same also may be said for buying. No man may always buy as cheap as he can, but must also use good conscience in buying ; the which he can by no means use and keep if he buys always as cheap as he can, and that for the reasons urged before. For such will make a prey of the ignorance, ne- cessity, and fondness of their neighbour, the which they cannot do with a good conscience. When Abraham would buy a burying-place of the sons of Heth, thus he said unto them : “ Entreat for me to Ephron the son of Zoliar that he may give me the cave of Machpelali, which he hath in the end of his field; for as much as it is worth shall he give it me.” Gen. xxiii. 8, 9. He would not have it under foot; he scorned it, he abhorred it; it stood not with his religion, credit, nor conscience. So also when David would buy a field of Oman the Jebusite, thus he said unto him, “ Grant me the place of the threshing-floor, that I may build an altar there unto the Lord ; thou shalt give it me for the full price.” He also, as Abraham, made conscience of this kind of dealing; he would not lie at catch to go be yond, no not the Jebusite, but would give him his full price for this field ; for he knew that there was wickedness, as in selling too dear, so in buying too cheap; therefore he would not do it. There ought therefore to be good conscience used, as in selling, so in buying; for it is also unlawful for a man to go beyond or to defraud LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BA DM AN. 531 his neighbour in buying; yea, it is unlawful to do it in any matter, and God will plenti- fully avenge that wrong, as I also before have warned and testified. But, 2. If it be lawful for me always to sell my commodity as dear or for as much as I can, then it is lawful for me to deal with my neighbour without the use of charity; but it is not lawful for me to lay it aside, or to deal with my neighbour without the use of charity ; therefore it is not lawful for me always to sell my commodity to my neighbour for as much as I can. A man in dealing should as really design bis neighbour’s good, profit, and advan- tage as his own, for this is to exercise charity in his dealing. That I should thus use or exercise charity towards my neighbour in my buying and sell- ing, &c., with him, is evident from the general command, “Let all your things be done in charity;” but that that man cannot live in the exercise of charity that selleth, as afore, as dear or that buyeth as cheap as he can is evident by these reasons: (1.) He that sells his commodity as dear or for as much money always as he can seeks himself, and himself only, (but charity seeketh not her own, nor her own only;) so then he that seeks himself, and himself only, as he that sells, as afore, as dear as he can, maketh not use of nor doth he exercise charity in so dealing. (2.) He that selleth his commodity always for as much as he can get hardeneth his heart against all reasonable entreaties of the buyer; but he that doth so cannot exercise charity in his dealing, therefore it is not law- ful for a man to sell his commodity as dear as he can. (3.) If it be lawful for me to sell my com- modity as dear as I can, then there can be no sin in my trading, how unreasonably soever I manage my calling, whether by lying, swear- ing, cursing, or cheating; for all this is but to sell my commodity as dear as I can; but that there is sin in these is evident, therefore I may not sell my commodity always as dear as I can. (4.) He that selleth as dear as he can ofifer- eth violence to the law of nature; for that saith, “ Do unto all men even as ye would that they should do unto you.” Now r , was the seller a buyer, he would not that he of whom he buys should sell to him always as dear as he can ; therefore he should not sell so him- self when it is his lot to sell and others to buy of him. (5.) He that selleth, as afore, as dear as he can makes use of that instruction that God hath not given to others, but sealed up in bis hand, to abuse his law and to wrong his neighbour withal ; which indeed is contrary to God. God hath given thee more skill, more knowledge and understanding in thy com- modity than he hath given to him that would buy of thee. But what! canstthou think that God hath given thee this that thou mightest thereby make a prey of thy neighbour? that thou mightest thereby go beyond and beguile thy neighbour? No, verily; but he hath given thee it for his help, that thou mightest in this be eyes to the blind, and save thy neighbour from that damage that his ignor- ance, or necessity, or fondness would betray him into the hands of. (6.) In all that a man does he should have an eye to the glory of God, but that he cannot have that sells his commodity always for as much as he can, for the reasons urged before. (7.) All that a man does he should do in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ — that is, as being commanded and authorized to do it by him — but he that selleth always as dear as he can cannot so much as pretend to this without horrid blaspheming of that name, be- cause commanded by him to do otherwise. (8.) And lastly, in all that a man does he should have an eye to the day of judgment, and to the consideration of how r his actions will be esteemed in that day : therefore there is not any man that can or ought to sell always as dear as he can, unless he will, yea, he must say in so doing, I will run the hazard of the trial of that day. “ If thou sell aught unto thy neighbour, or buyest aught of thy neighbour, ye shall not oppress one another.” Attentive. But why do you put in these cau- tionary words, They must not sell always as dear nor buy always as cheap as they can? Do you not thereby intimate that a man may sometimes do so? Wiseman. I do indeed intimate that some- times the seller may sell as dear and the buyer buy as cheap as he can, but this is allowable only in these cases: vfhen he that sells is a knave, and lays aside all good conscience in selling, or when the buyer is a knave, and lays aside all good conscience in buying. If the buyer, therefore, lights of a knave, or if the seller lights of a knave, then let them look to themselves; but yet so as not to lay aside con- 532 1] UN Y AN’S COMPLETE WORKS. science because be that thou dealest with doth so ; but how vile or base soever the chapman is, do thou keep thy commodity at a reasonable price ; or if thou buyest, offer reasonable gain for the thing thou wouldst have ; and if this will not do with the buyer or seller, then seek thee a more honest chapman. If thou object- est, But I have not skill to know when a pennyworth is before me, get some that have more skill than thyself in that affair, and let them in that matter dispose of thy money. But if there were no knaves in the world these ob- jections need not be made. And thus, my very good neighbour, have I given you a few of my reasons why a man that hath it should not always sell too dear nor buy as cheap as he can, but should use good con- science to God and charity to his neighbour in both. Attentive. But were some men here to hear you, I believe they would laugh you to scorn. Wiseman. I question not that at all, for, so Mr. Badman used to do when any man told him of his faults ; he used to think himself wiser than any, and would count, as I have hinted before, that he was not arrived to a manly spirit that did stick or boggle at any wickedness. But let Mr. Badman and his fel- lows laugh ; I will bear it, and still give them good counsel. But I will remember also, for my further relief and comfort, that thus they that were covetous of old served the Son of God himself. It is their time to laugh now, that they may mourn in time to come. And, I say again, when they have laughed out their laugh, he that useth not good conscience to God and charity to his neighbour in buying and selling dwells next door to an infidel, and is near of kin to Mr. Badman. Attentive. Well, but wdiat will you say to this question ? You know that there is no settled price set by God upon any commodity that is bought or sold under the sun, but all things that we buy and sell do ebb and flow, as to price, like the tide ; how, then, shall a man of a tender conscience do neither to wrong the seller, buyer, nor himself in buying and sell- ing of commodities? Wiseman. This question is thought to be frivolous by all that are of Mr. Badman’s way : it is also difficult in itself; yet I will endeav- our to shape you an answer, and that first to the matter of the question — to wit, How a tradesman should in trading keep a good con- science, (a buyer or seller either.) Secondly, How he should prepare himself to this work and live in the practice of it. For the first: He must observe what has been said before — to wit, he must have con- science to God, charity to bis neighbour, and, I will add, much moderation in dealing. Let him therefore keep within the bounds of the affirmative of those eight reasons that before were urged to prove that men ought not in their dealing but to do justly and mercifully betwixt man and man, and then there will be no great fear of wronging the seller, buyer, or himself. But particularly to prepare or instruct a man to this work : 1. Let the tradesman or others consider that there is not that in great gettings and in abun- dance which the most of men do suppose; for all that a man has over and above what serves for his present necessity and supply serves only to feed the lusts of the eye : “ For what good is there to the owners thereof, save the behold- ing of them with their eyes ?” Men also, many times, in getting of riches get therewith a snare to their soul, but few get good by getting of them. But. this consideration Mr. Badman could not abide. 2. Consider that the getting of wealth dis- honestly (as he does that getteth it without good conscience and charity to his neighbour) is a great offence against God. Hence he says, “I have smitten mine hand at thy dishonest gain which thou hast made.” It is a manner of speech that shows anger in the very mak- ving of mention of the crime. Therefore, 3. Consider that a little honestly gotten, though it may yield thee but a dinner of herbs at a time, will yield more peace therewith than with a stalled ox ill gotten : “ Better is a little with righteousness than great revenues without right.” 4. Be thou confident that God’s eyes are upon all thy ways and that he ponderetli all thy goings, and also that he marks them, writes them down, and seals them up in a bag against the time to come. 5. Be thou sure that thou rememberest that thou knowest not the day of thy death. Re- member also that when death comes, God will give thy substance, for the which thou hast la- boured, and for the which perhaps thou hast hazarded thy soul, to one, thou knowest not who, nor whether he shall be a wise man or a fool. And then “ what profit hath he that la- boureth for the wind?” Besides, thou shalt have nothing that thou LIFE AND DEATH OF MR. BAD MAN. mnyost so much as carry away in tliiiic hand. Guilt shall go with thee if thou hast got it dis- honestly, and they also to whom thou shalt leave it shall receive it to their hurt. These things duly considered, and made use of hy thee to the preparing of thy heart to thy calling of buying or selling, I conic, in the next place, to show thee how thou shouldest live in the practical part of this art. -Art thou to buy or sell ? ] . If thou sellcst, do not commend, if thou buyest, do not dispraise, any otherwise but to give the thing that thou hast to do with its just value and worth; for thou eanst not do otherwise knowingly- but of a covetous and wicked mind. Wherefore else are commodities overvalued by the seller and also undervalued by the buyer? “ It is naught, it is naught, says the buyer, but when he hath got his bargain he boasteth thereof.” What hath this man done now but lied in the dispraising of his bargain? And why did he dispraise it but of a covetous mind, to wrong and beguile the seller? 2. Art thou a seller, and do things grow dear? Set not thy hand to help or hold them up higher; this cannot be done without wicked- ness neither, “ for this is a making of the shekel great.” Art thou a buyer, and do things grow dear? Use no cunning or deceitful language to pull them down, for that cannot he done but wickedly too. What then shall we do, will you say? Why I answer, Leave things to the providence of God, and do thou with mod- eration submit to his hand. But since, when they are growing dear, the hand that upholds the price is, for the time, more strong than that which would pull it down — that being the hand of the seller, who loveth to have it dear, especially if it shall rise in his hand — therefore, I say, do thou take heed and have not a hand in it. The which thou mayest have to thine own and thy neighbour’s hurt these three ways : 1. By crying out, Scarcity, scarcity! beyond the truth and state of things; especially take heed of doing this by way of a prognostic for time to come. It was for this for which he was trodden to death in the gate of Samaria that you read of in the book of Kings. This sin has a double evil in it: 1. It belieth the present blessing of God among us; and, 2. It undervalueth the riches of his goodness, which can make all good things to abound towards us. 2. This wicked thing may be done by hoard- ing up when the hunger and necessity of the coo 0