Information

This text was prepared by Logos Research Systems, Inc.  from an edition

marked as follows:

Auburn:

Derby and Miller.

Buffalo:

Geo.  H. Derby and Co.

1853

THE

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS

FROM

THIS WORLD

TO

THAT WHICH IS TO COME;

DELIVERED UNDER THE SIMILTUDE OF A DREAM.

BY JOHN BUNYAN.

CONTENTS.

Author's Apology for his Book

PART I.

THE FIRST STAGE. - Christian's deplorable condition - Evangelist directs

him - Obstinate and Pliable - Slough of Despond - Worldly Wiseman -

Mount Sinai - Conversation with Evangelist

THE SECOND STAGE. - The Gate - conversation with Good-Will - the

Interpreter's House - Christian entertained - the sights there shown him

THE THIRD STAGE. - Loses his burden at the Cross - Simple, Sloth,

Presumption, Formalist, Hypocrisy - hill Difficulty - the Arbor - misses

his roll - the palace Beautiful - the lions - talk with Discretion,

Piety, Prudence, and Charity - wonders shown to Christian - he is armed

THE FOURTH STAGE. - Valley of Humiliation - conflict with Apollyon -

Valley of the Shadow of Death - Giants Pope and Pagan

THE FIFTH STAGE. - Discourse with Faithful - Talkative and Faithful -

Talkative's character

THE SIXTH STAGE. - Evangelist overtakes Christian and Faithful - Vanity

Fair - the Pilgrims brought to trial - Faithful's martyrdom

THE SEVENTH STAGE. - Christian and Hopeful - By-ends and his companions

- plain of Ease - Lucre-hill - Demas - the River of Life - Vain-

Confidence - Giant Despair - the Pilgrims beaten - the Dungeon - the Key

of Promise

THE EIGHTH STAGE. - The Delectable Mountains - entertained by the

Shepherds - a by-way to Hell

THE NINTH STAGE. - Christian and Hopeful meet Ignorance - Turn-away -

Little-Faith - the Flatterer - the net - chastised by a Shining One -

Atheist - Enchanted Ground - Hopeful's account of his conversion -

discourse of Christian and Ignorance

THE TENTH STAGE. - Talk of Christian and Hopeful - Temporary - the

backslider - the land of Beulah - Christian and Hopeful pass the River -

welcome to the Celestial city

Conclusion of Part First

PART II.

Author's Apology for the Second Part

Pilgrimage of Christiana and her children

THE FIRST STAGE. - Christiana and Mercy - Slough of Despond - knocking

at the gate - the Dog - talk between the Pilgrims

THE SECOND STAGE. - The Devil's garden - two ill-favored ones assault

them - the Reliever - entertainment at the Interpreter's house - the

Significant Rooms - Christiana and Mercy's experience

THE THIRD STAGE. - Accompanied by Great-Heart - the Cross - justified by

Christ - Sloth and his companions hung - the hill Difficulty - the Arbor

THE FOURTH STAGE. - The Lions - Giant Grim slain by Great-Heart - the

Pilgrims entertained - the children catechized by Prudence - Mr.  Brisk

- Matthew sick - the remedy - sights shown the Pilgrims

THE FIFTH STAGE. - Valley of Humiliation - Valley of the Shadow of Death

- Giant Maul slain

THE SIXTH STAGE. - Discourse with Old Honest - character and history of

Mr.  Fearing - Mr.  Self-will and some professors - Gaius' house -

conversation - the supper - Old Honest and Great-Heart's riddles and

discourse - Giant Slay-good killed - Mr.  Feeble-mind's history - Mr.

Ready-to-halt - Vanity Fair - Mr.  Mnason's house - cheering

entertainment and converse - a Monster

THE SEVENTH STAGE. - Hill Lucre - River of Life - Giant Despair killed -

the Delectable Mountains - entertainment by the Shepherds

THE EIGHTH STAGE. - Valiant-for-Truth's-Victory - his talk with Great-

Heart - the Enchanted Ground - Heedless and Too-bold - Mr.  Stand-fast -

Madam Bubble's temptations - the land of Beulah - Christiana summoned -

her parting addresses - she passes the River - she is followed by Ready-

to-halt, Feeble-mind, Despondency and his daughter, Honest, Valiant,

Steadfast

Author's Farewell

THE AUTHOR'S APOLOGY

FOR

HIS BOOK.

WHEN at the first I took my pen in hand

Thus for to write, I did not understand

That I at all should make a little book

In such a mode: nay, I had undertook

To make another; which, when almost done,

Before I was aware I this begun.

And thus it was: I, writing of the way

And race of saints in this our gospel-day,

Fell suddenly into an allegory

About their journey, and the way to glory,

In more than twenty things which I set down

This done, I twenty more had in my crown,

And they again began to multiply,

Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly.

Nay, then, thought I, if that you breed so fast,

I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last

Should prove ad infinitum, 1 and eat out

The book that I already am about.

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

To show to all the world my pen and ink

In such a mode; I only thought to make

I knew not what: nor did I undertake

Thereby to please my neighbor; no, not I;

I did it my own self to gratify.

Neither did I but vacant seasons spend

In this my scribble; nor did I intend

But to divert myself, in doing this,

From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss.

Thus I set pen to paper with delight,

And quickly had my thoughts in black and white;

For having now my method by the end,

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

It down; until it came at last to be,

For length and breadth, the bigness which you see.

Well, when I had thus put mine ends together

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

They would condemn them, or them justify:

And some said, let them live; some, let them die:

Some said, John, print it; others said, Not so:

Some said, It might do good; others said, No.

Now was I in a strait, and did not see

Which was the best thing to be done by me:

At last I thought, Since ye are thus divided,

I print it will; and so the case decided.

For, thought I, some I see would have it done,

Though others in that channel do not run:

To prove, then, who advised for the best,

Thus I thought fit to put it to the test.

I further thought, if now I did deny

Those that would have it, thus to gratify;

I did not know, but hinder them I might

Of that which would to them be great delight.

For those which were not for its coming forth,

I said to them, Offend you, I am loath;

Yet since your brethren pleased with it be,

Forbear to judge, till you do further see.

If that thou wilt not read, let it alone;

Some love the meat, some love to pick the bone.

Yea, that I might them better palliate,

I did too with them thus expostulate:

May I not write in such a style as this?

In such a method too, and yet not miss

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

Dark clouds bring waters, when the bright bring none.

Yea, dark or bright, if they their silver drops

Cause to descend, the earth, by yielding crops,

Gives praise to both, and carpeth not at either,

But treasures up the fruit they yield together;

Yea, so commixes both, that in their fruit

None can distinguish this from that; they suit

Her well when hungry; but if she be full,

She spews out both, and makes their blessing null.

You see the ways the fisherman doth take

To catch the fish; what engines doth he make!

Behold how he engageth all his wits;

Also his snares, lines, angles, hooks, and nets:

Yet fish there be, that neither hook nor line,

Nor snare, nor net, nor engine can make thine:

They must be groped for, and be tickled too,

Or they will not be catch'd, whate'er you do.

How does the fowler seek to catch his game

By divers means!  all which one cannot name.

His guns, his nets, his lime-twigs, light and bell:

He creeps, he goes, he stands; yea, who can tell

Of all his postures?  yet there's none of these

Will make him master of what fowls he please.

Yea, he must pipe and whistle, to catch this;

Yet if he does so, that bird he will miss.

If that a pearl may in toad's head dwell,

And may be found too in an oyster-shell;

If things that promise nothing, do contain

What better is than gold; who will disdain,

That have an inkling 2 of it, there to look,

That they may find it.  Now my little book,

(Though void of all these paintings that may make

It with this or the other man to take,)

Is not without those things that do excel

What do in brave but empty notions dwell.

"Well, yet I am not fully satisfied

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

Why, what's the matter?  "It is dark."  What though?

"But it is feigned."  What of that?  I trow

Some men by feigned words, as dark as mine,

Make truth to spangle, and its rays to shine.

"But they want solidness."  Speak, man, thy mind.

"They drown the weak; metaphors make us blind."

Solidity, indeed, becomes the pen

Of him that writeth things divine to men:

But must I needs want solidness, because

By metaphors I speak?  Were not God's laws,

His gospel laws, in olden time held forth

By types, shadows, and metaphors?  Yet loth

Will any sober man be to find fault

With them, lest he be found for to assault

The highest wisdom!  No, he rather stoops,

And seeks to find out what, by pins and loops,

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

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

God speaketh to him; and happy is he

That finds the light and grace that in them be.

But not too forward, therefore, to conclude

That I want solidness-that I am rude;

All things solid in show, not solid be;

All things in parable despise not we,

Lest things most hurtful lightly we receive,

And things that good are, of our souls bereave.

My dark and cloudy words they do but hold

The truth, as cabinets inclose the gold.

The prophets used much by metaphors

To set forth truth: yea, who so considers

Christ, his apostles too, shall plainly see,

That truths to this day in such mantles be.

Am I afraid to say, that holy writ,

Which for its style and phrase puts down all wit,

Is everywhere so full of all these things,

Dark figures, allegories?  Yet there springs

From that same book, that lustre, and those rays

Of light, that turn our darkest nights to days.

Come, let my carper to his life now look,

And find there darker lines than in my book

He findeth any; yea, and let him know,

That in his best things there are worse lines too.

May we but stand before impartial men,

To his poor one I durst adventure ten,

That they will take my meaning in these lines

Far better than his lies in silver shrines.

Come, truth, although in swaddling-clothes, I find

Informs the judgment, rectifies the mind;

Pleases the understanding, makes the will

Submit, the memory too it doth fill

With what doth our imagination please;

Likewise it tends our troubles to appease.

Sound words, I know, Timothy is to use,

And old wives' fables he is to refuse;

But yet grave Paul him nowhere doth forbid

The use of parables, in which lay hid

That gold, those pearls, and precious stones that were

Worth digging for, and that with greatest care.

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

Art thou offended?  Dost thou wish I had

Put forth my matter in another dress?

Or that I had in things been more express?

Three things let me propound; then I submit

To those that are my betters, as is fit.

1.  I find not that I am denied the use

Of this my method, so I no abuse

Put on the words, things, readers, or be rude

In handling figure or similitude,

In application; but all that I may

Seek the advance of truth this or that way.

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

(Example too, and that from them that have

God better pleased, by their words or ways,

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

Thus to express my mind, thus to declare

Things unto thee that excellentest are.

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

Dialogue-wise; yet no man doth them slight

For writing so.  Indeed, if they abuse

Truth, cursed be they, and the craft they use

To that intent; but yet let truth be free

To make her sallies upon thee and me,

Which way it pleases God: for who knows how,

Better than he that taught us first to plough,

To guide our minds and pens for his designs?

And he makes base things usher in divine.

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

Hath semblance with this method, where the cases

Do call for one thing to set forth another:

Use it I may then, and yet nothing smother

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

Make it cast forth its rays as light as day.

And now, before I do put up my pen,

I'll show the profit of my book; and then

Commit both thee and it unto that hand

That pulls the strong down, and makes weak ones stand.

This book it chalketh out before thine eyes

The man that seeks the everlasting prize:

It shows you whence he comes, whither he goes,

What he leaves undone; also what he does:

It also shows you how he runs, and runs,

Till he unto the gate of glory comes.

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

As if the lasting crown they would obtain;

Here also you may see the reason why

They lose their labor, and like fools do die.

This book will make a traveler of thee,

If by its counsel thou wilt ruled be;

It will direct thee to the Holy Land,

If thou wilt its directions understand

Yea, it will make the slothful active be;

The blind also delightful things to see.

Art thou for something rare and profitable?

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

Art thou forgetful?  Wouldest thou remember

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

Then read my fancies; they will stick like burs,

And may be, to the helpless, comforters.

This book is writ in such a dialect

As may the minds of listless men affect:

It seems a novelty, and yet contains

Nothing but sound and honest gospel strains.

Would'st thou divert thyself from melancholy?

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

Would'st thou read riddles, and their explanation?

Or else be drowned in thy contemplation?

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

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

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

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

Would'st thou lose thyself and catch no harm,

And find thyself again without a charm?

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

And yet know whether thou art blest or not,

By reading the same lines?  O then come hither,

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

JOHN BUNYAN.

THE

PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.

THE FIRST STAGE.

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain

place where was a den, 3 and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as

I slept, I dreamed a dream.  I dreamed, and behold, I saw a man clothed

with rags, standing in a certain place, with his face from his own

house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back.  Isa 64:6;

Luke 14:33; Psalm 38:4.  I looked and saw him open the book, and read

therein; and as he read, he wept and trembled; and not being able longer

to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, "What shall I

do?"  Acts 2:37; 16:30; Habak 1:2,3.

In this plight, therefore, he went home, and restrained himself as long

as he could, that his wife and children should not perceive his

distress; but he could not be silent long, because that his trouble

increased.  Wherefore at length he brake his mind to his wife and

children; and thus he began to talk to them: "O, my dear wife," said he,

"and you the children of my bowels, I, your dear friend, am in myself

undone by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am

certainly informed that this our city will be burnt with fire from

heaven; in which fearful overthrow, both myself, with thee my wife, and

you my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which yet

I see not) some way of escape can be found whereby we may be delivered."

At this his relations were sore amazed; not for that they believed that

what he had said to them was true, but because they thought that some

frenzy distemper had got into his head; therefore, it drawing towards

night, and they hoping that sleep might settle his brains, with all

haste they got him to bed.  But the night was as troublesome to him as

the day; wherefore, instead of sleeping, he spent it in sighs and tears.

So when the morning was come, they would know how he did.  He told them,

"Worse and worse:" he also set to talking to them again; but they began

to be hardened.  They also thought to drive away his distemper by harsh

and surly carriage to him; sometimes they would deride, sometimes they

would chide, and sometimes they would quite neglect him.  Wherefore he

began to retire himself to his chamber to pray for and pity them, and

also to condole his own misery; he would also walk solitarily in the

fields, sometimes reading, and sometimes praying: and thus for some days

he spent his time.

Now I saw, upon a time, when he was walking in the fields, that he was

(as he was wont) reading in his book, and greatly distressed in his

mind; and as he read, he burst out, as he had done before, crying, "What

shall I do to be saved?"  Acts 16:30,31.

I saw also that he looked this way, and that way, as if he would run;

yet he stood still because (as I perceived) he could not tell which way

to go.  I looked then, and saw a man named Evangelist coming to him, and

he asked, "Wherefore dost thou cry?"

He answered, "Sir, I perceive, by the book in my hand, that I am

condemned to die, and after that to come to judgment, Heb.  9:27; and I

find that I am not willing to do the first, Job 10: 21,22, nor able to

do the second."  Ezek.  22:14.

Then said Evangelist, "Why not willing to die, since this life is

attended with so many evils?"  The man answered, "Because, I fear that

this burden that is upon my back will sink me lower than the grave, and

I shall fall into Tophet.  Isa.  30:33.  And Sir, if I be not fit to go

to prison, I am not fit to go to judgment, and from thence to execution;

and the thoughts of these things make me cry."

Then said Evangelist, "If this be thy condition, why standest thou

still?"  He answered, "Because I know not whither to go."  Then he gave

him a parchment roll, and there was written within, "Fly from the wrath

to come."  Matt.  3:7.

The man therefore read it, and looking upon Evangelist very carefully,

said, "Whither must I fly?"  Then said Evangelist, (pointing with his

finger over a very wide field,) "Do you see yonder wicket-gate?"  Matt.

7:13,14.  The man said, "No."  Then said the other, "Do you see yonder

shining light?"  Psalm 119:105; 2 Pet.  1:19.  He said, "I think I do."

Then said Evangelist, "Keep that light in your eye, and go up directly

thereto, so shalt thou see the gate; at which, when thou knockest, it

shall be told thee what thou shalt do."  So I saw in my dream that the

man began to run.  Now he had not run far from his own door when his

wife and children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; but

the man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on crying, Life!  life!

eternal life!  Luke 14:26.  So he looked not behind him, Gen.  19:17,

but fled towards the middle of the plain.

The neighbors also came out to see him run, Jer.  20:10; and as he ran,

some mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return; and

among those that did so, there were two that were resolved to fetch him

back by force.  The name of the one was Obstinate and the name of the

other Pliable.  Now by this time the man was got a good distance from

them; but, however, they were resolved to pursue him, which they did,

and in a little time they overtook him.  Then said the man, "Neighbors,

wherefore are you come?"  They said, "To persuade you to go back with

us."  But he said, "That can by no means be: you dwell," said he, "in

the city of Destruction, the place also where I was born: I see it to be

so; and dying there, sooner or later, you will sink lower than the

grave, into a place that burns with fire and brimstone: be content, good

neighbors, and go along with me."

OBST. What, said Obstinate, and leave our friends and our comforts

behind us!

CHR. Yes, said Christian, (for that was his name,) because that all

which you forsake is not worthy to be compared with a little of that I

am seeking to enjoy, 2 Cor.  4:18; and if you will go along with me, and

hold it, you shall fare as I myself; for there, where I go, is enough

and to spare.  Luke 15:17.  Come away, and prove my words.

OBST. What are the things you seek, since you leave all the world to

find them?

CHR. I seek an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that fadeth not

away, 1 Peter 1:4; and it is laid up in heaven, and safe there, Heb.

11:16, to be bestowed, at the time appointed, on them that diligently

seek it.  Read it so, if you will, in my book.

OBST. Tush, said Obstinate, away with your book; will you go back with

us or no?

CHR. No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the

plough.  Luke 9:62.

OBST. Come then, neighbor Pliable, let us turn again, and go home

without him: there is a company of these crazy-headed coxcombs, that

when they take a fancy by the end, are wiser in their own eyes than

seven men that can render a reason.

PLI. Then said Pliable, Don't revile; if what the good Christian says is

true, the things he looks after are better than ours: my heart inclines

to go with my neighbor.

OBST. What, more fools still!  Be ruled by me, and go back; who knows

whither such a brain-sick fellow will lead you?  Go back, go back, and

be wise.

CHR. Nay, but do thou come with thy neighbor Pliable; there are such

things to be had which I spoke of, and many more glories besides.  If

you believe not me, read here in this book, and for the truth of what is

expressed therein, behold, all is confirmed by the blood of Him that

made it.  Heb.  9: 17-21.

PLI. Well, neighbor Obstinate, said Pliable, I begin to come to a point;

I intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with him:

but, my good companion, do you know the way to this desired place?

CHR. I am directed by a man whose name is Evangelist, to speed me to a

little gate that is before us, where we shall receive instructions about

the way.

PLI. Come then, good neighbor, let us be going.  Then they went both

together.

OBST. And I will go back to my place, said Obstinate: I will be no

companion of such misled, fantastical fellows.

Now I saw in my dream, that when Obstinate was gone back, Christian and

Pliable went talking over the plain; and thus they began their

discourse.

CHR. Come, neighbor Pliable, how do you do?  I am glad you are persuaded

to go along with me.  Had even Obstinate himself but felt what I have

felt of the powers and terrors of what is yet unseen, he would not thus

lightly have given us the back.

PLI. Come, neighbor Christian, since there are none but us two here,

tell me now farther, what the things are, and how to be enjoyed, whither

we are going.

CHR. 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.

PLI. And do you think that the words of your book are certainly true?

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

PLI. Well said; what things are they?

CHR. There is an endless kingdom to be inhabited, and everlasting life

to be given us, that we may inhabit that kingdom for ever.  Isa.  65:17;

John 10: 27-29.

PLI. Well said; and what else?

CHR. There are crowns of glory to be given us; and garments that will

make us shine like the sun in the firmament of heaven.  2 Tim.  4:8;

Rev.  22:5; Matt.  13:43.

PLI. This is very pleasant; and what else?

CHR. There shall be no more crying, nor sorrow; for he that is owner of

the place will wipe all tears from our eyes.  Isa.  25:8; Rev 7:16, 17;

21:4.

PLI. And what company shall we have there?

CHR. There we shall be with seraphims and cherubims, Isaiah 6:2; 1

Thess.  4:16,17; Rev.  5:11; creatures that will dazzle your eyes to

look on them.  There also you shall meet with thousands and ten

thousands that have gone before us to that place; none of them are

hurtful, but loving and holy; every one walking in the sight of God, and

standing in his presence with acceptance for ever.  In a word, there we

shall see the elders with their golden crowns, Rev.  4:4; there we shall

see the holy virgins with their golden harps, Rev.  14:1-5; there we

shall see men, that by the world were cut in pieces, burnt in flames,

eaten of beasts, drowned in the seas, for the love they bare to the Lord

of the place, John 12:25; all well, and clothed with immortality as with

a garment.  2 Cor.  5:2.

PLI. The hearing of this is enough to ravish one's heart.  But are these

things to be enjoyed?  How shall we get to be sharers thereof?

CHR. The Lord, the governor of the country, hath recorded that in this

book, Isaiah 55:1,2; John 6:37; 7:37; Rev.  21:6; 22:17; the substance

of which is, if we be truly willing to have it, he will bestow it upon

us freely.

PLI. Well, my good companion, glad am I to hear of these things: come

on, let us mend our pace.

CHR. I cannot go as fast as I would, by reason of this burden that is on

my back.

Now I saw in my dream, that just as they had ended this talk, they drew

nigh to a very miry slough that was in the midst of the plain: and they

being heedless, did both fall suddenly into the bog.  The name of the

slough was Despond.  Here, therefore, they wallowed for a time, being

grievously bedaubed with the dirt; and Christian, because of the burden

that was on his back, began to sink in the mire.

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

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

PLI. At this Pliable began to be offended, and angrily said to his

fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of?  If we

have such ill speed at our first setting out, what may we expect between

this and our journey's end?  May I get out again with my life, you shall

possess the brave country alone for me.  And with that he gave a

desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that side of the

slough which was next to his own house: so away he went, and Christian

saw him no more.

Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Despond alone;

but still he endeavored to struggle to that side of the slough that was

farthest from his own house, and next to the wicket-gate; the which he

did, but could not get out because of the burden that was upon his back:

but I beheld in my dream, that a man came to him, whose name was Help,

and asked him what he did there.

CHR. Sir, said Christian, I was bid to go this way by a man called

Evangelist, who directed me also to yonder gate, that I might escape the

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

HELP. But why did not you look for the steps?

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

HELP. Then, said he, Give me thine hand: so he gave him his hand, and he

drew him out, Psalm 40:2, and he set him upon sound ground, and bid him

go on his way.

Then I stepped to him that plucked him out, and said, "Sir, wherefore,

since over this place is the way from the city of Destruction to yonder

gate, is it, that this plat is not mended, that poor travellers might go

thither with more security?"  And he said unto me, "This miry slough is

such a place as cannot be mended: it is the descent whither the scum and

filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and

therefore it is called the Slough of Despond; for still, as the sinner

is awakened about his lost condition, there arise in his soul many fears

and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get

together, and settle in this place: and this is the reason of the

badness of this ground.

"It is not the pleasure of the King that this place should remain so

bad.  Isa.  35:3,4.  His laborers also have, by the direction of his

Majesty's surveyors, been for above this sixteen hundred years employed

about this patch of ground, if perhaps it might have been mended: yea,

and to my knowledge," said he, "there have been swallowed up at least

twenty thousand cart loads, yea, millions of wholesome instructions,

that have at all seasons been brought from all places of the King's

dominions, (and they that can tell, say, they are the best materials to

make good ground of the place,) if so be it might have been mended; but

it is the Slough of Despond still, and so will be when they have done

what they can.

"True, there are, by the direction of the Lawgiver, certain good and

substantial steps, placed even through the very midst of this slough;

but at such time as this place doth much spew out its filth, as it doth

against change of weather, these steps are hardly seen; or if they be,

men, through the dizziness of their heads, step beside, and then they

are bemired to purpose, notwithstanding the steps be there: but the

ground is good when they are once got in at the gate."  1 Sam.  12:23.

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

house.  So his neighbors came to visit him; and some of them called him

wise man for coming back, and some called him fool for hazarding himself

with Christian: others again did mock at his cowardliness, saying,

"Surely, since you began to venture, I would not have been so base as to

have given out for a few difficulties:" so Pliable sat sneaking among

them.  But at last he got more confidence, and then they all turned

their tales, and began to deride poor Christian behind his back.  And

thus much concerning Pliable.

Now as Christian was walking solitary by himself, he espied one afar off

come crossing over the field to meet him; and their hap was to meet just

as they were crossing the way of each other.  The gentleman's name that

met him was Mr.  Wordly Wiseman: he dwelt in the town of Carnal Policy,

a very great town, and also hard by from whence Christian came.  This

man then, meeting with Christian, and having some inkling 4 of him, (for

Christian's setting forth from the city of Destruction was much noised

abroad, not only in the town where he dwelt, but also it began to be the

town-talk in some other places) - Mr.  Worldly Wiseman, therefore,

having some guess of him, by beholding his laborious going, by observing

his sighs and groans, and the like, began thus to enter into some talk

with Christian.

WORLD. How now, good fellow, whither away after this burdened manner?

CHR. A burdened manner indeed, as ever I think poor creature had!  And

whereas you ask me, Whither away?  I tell you, sir, I am going to yonder

wicket-gate before me; for there, as I am informed, I shall be put into

a way to be rid of my heavy burden.

WORLD. Hast thou a wife and children?

CHR. Yes; but I am so laden with this burden, that I cannot take that

pleasure in them as formerly: methinks I am as if I had none.  1 Cor.

7:29.

WORLD. Wilt thou hearken to me, if I give thee counsel?

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

WORLD. I would advise thee, then, that thou with all speed get thyself

rid of thy burden; for thou wilt never be settled in thy mind till then:

nor canst thou enjoy the benefits of the blessings which God hath

bestowed upon thee till then.

CHR. That is that which I seek for, even to be rid of this heavy burden:

but get it off myself I cannot, nor is there any man in our country that

can take it off my shoulders; therefore am I going this way, as I told

you, that I may be rid of my burden.

WORLD. Who bid thee go this way to be rid of thy burden?

CHR. A man that appeared to me to be a very great and honorable person:

his name, as I remember, is Evangelist.

I beshrew 5 him for his counsel!  there is not a more dangerous and

troublesome way in the world than is that into which he hath directed

thee; and that thou shalt find, if thou wilt be ruled by his counsel.

Thou hast met with something, as I perceive, already; for I see the dirt

of the Slough of Despond is upon thee: but that slough is the beginning

of the sorrows that do attend those that go on in that way.  Hear me; I

am older than thou: thou art like to meet with, in the way which thou

goest, wearisomeness, painfulness, hunger, perils, nakedness, sword,

lions, dragons, darkness, and, in a word, death, and what not.  These

things are certainly true, having been confirmed by many testimonies.

And should a man so carelessly cast away himself, by giving heed to a

stranger?

CHR. Why, sir, this burden on my back is more terrible to me than are

all these things which you have mentioned: nay, methinks I care not what

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

my burden.

WORLD. How camest thou by thy burden at first?

CHR. By reading this book in my hand.

WORLD. 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.

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

WORLD. But why wilt thou seek for ease this way, seeing so many dangers

attend it?  especially since (hadst thou but patience to hear me) I

could direct thee to the obtaining of what thou desirest, without the

dangers that thou in this way wilt run thyself into.  Yea, and the

remedy is at hand.  Besides, I will add, that instead of those dangers,

thou shalt meet with much safety, friendship, and content.

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

WORLD. Why, in yonder village (the village is named Morality) there

dwells a gentleman whose name is Legality, a very judicious man, and a

man of a very good name, that has skill to help men off with such

burdens as thine is from their shoulders; yea to my knowledge, he hath

done a great deal of good this way; aye, and besides, he hath skill to

cure those that are somewhat crazed in their wits with their burdens.

To him, as I said, thou mayest go, and be helped presently.  His house

is not quite a mile from this place; and if he should not be at home

himself, he hath a pretty young man to his son, whose name is Civility,

that can do it (to speak on) as well as the old gentleman himself:

there, I say, thou mayest be eased of thy burden; and if thou art not

minded to go back to thy former habitation, (as indeed I would not wish

thee,) thou mayest send for thy wife and children to this village, where

there are houses now standing empty, one of which thou mayest have at a

reasonable rate: provision is there also cheap and good; and that which

will make thy life the more happy is, to be sure there thou shalt live

by honest neighbors, in credit and good fashion.

Now was Christian somewhat at a stand; but presently he concluded, If

this be true which this gentleman hath said, my wisest course is to take

his advice: and with that he thus farther spake.

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

WORLD. Do you see yonder high hill?

CHR. Yes, very well.

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

So Christian turned out of his way to go to Mr.  Legality's house for

help: but, behold, when he was got now hard by the hill, it seemed so

high, and also that side of it that was next the way-side did hang so

much over, that Christian was afraid to venture further, lest the hill

should fall on his head; wherefore there he stood still, and wotted not

what to do.  Also his burden now seemed heavier to him than while he was

in his way.  There came also flashes of fire, Ex.  19:16, 18, out of the

hill, that made Christian afraid that he should be burnt: here therefore

he did sweat and quake for fear.  Heb.  12:21.  And now he began to be

sorry that he had taken Mr.  Worldly Wiseman's counsel; and with that he

saw Evangelist coming to meet him, at the sight also of whom he began to

blush for shame.  So Evangelist drew nearer and nearer; and coming up to

him, he looked upon him, with a severe and dreadful countenance, and

thus began to reason with Christian.

EVAN. What doest thou here, Christian?  said he: at which words

Christian knew not what to answer; wherefore at present he stood

speechless before him.  Then said Evangelist farther, Art not thou the

man that I found crying without the walls of the city of Destruction?

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

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

CHR. Yes, dear sir, said Christian.

EVAN. How is it then thou art so quickly turned aside?  For thou art now

out of the way.

CHR. I met with a gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough of

Despond, who persuaded me that I might, in the village before me, find a

man that could take off my burden.

EVAN. What was he?

CHR. He looked like a gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me at

last to yield: so I came hither; but when I beheld this hill, and how it

hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it should fall on my

head.

EVAN. What said that gentleman to you?

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

EVAN. And what said he then?

CHR. He asked me if I had a family; and I told him.  But, said I, I am

so laden with the burden that is on my back, that I cannot take pleasure

in them as formerly.

EVAN. And what said he then?

CHR. He bid me with speed get rid of my burden; and I told him it was

ease that I sought.  And, said I, I am therefore going to yonder gate,

to receive farther direction how I may get to the place of deliverance.

So he said that he would show me a better way, and short, not so

attended with difficulties as the way, sir, that you set me in; which

way, said he, will direct you to a gentleman's house that hath skill to

take off these burdens: so I believed him, and turned out of that way

into this, if haply I might be soon eased of my burden.  But when I came

to this place, and beheld things as they are, I stopped, for fear (as I

said) of danger: but I now know not what to do.

EVAN. Then said Evangelist, Stand still a little, that I show thee the

words of God.  So he stood trembling.  Then said Evangelist, "See that

ye refuse not Him that speaketh; for if they escaped not who refused him

that spake on earth, much more shall not we escape, if we turn away from

Him that speaketh from heaven."  Heb.  12:25.  He said, moreover, "Now

the just shall live by faith; but if any man draw back, my soul shall

have no pleasure in him."  Heb.  10:38.  He also did thus apply them:

Thou art the man that art running into this misery; thou hast begun to

reject the counsel of the Most High, and to draw back thy foot from the

way of peace, even almost to the hazarding of thy perdition.

Then Christian fell down at his feet as dead, crying, Woe is me, for I

am undone!  At the sight of which Evangelist caught him by the right

hand, saying, "All manner of sin and blasphemies shall be forgiven unto

men."  Matt.  12:31.  "Be not faithless, but believing."  John 20:27.

Then did Christian again a little revive, and stood up trembling, as at

first, before Evangelist.

Then Evangelist proceeded, saying, Give more earnest heed to the things

that I shall tell thee of.  I will now show thee who it was that deluded

thee, and who it was also to whom he sent thee.  The man that met thee

is one Worldly Wiseman, and rightly is he so called; partly because he

savoreth only the doctrine of this world, 1 John 4:5, (therefore he

always goes to the town of Morality to church;) and partly because he

loveth that doctrine best, for it saveth him best from the cross, Gal.

6:12: and because he is of this carnal temper, therefore he seeketh to

pervert my ways, though right.  Now there are three things in this man's

counsel that thou must utterly abhor.

1.  His turning thee out of the way.

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

3.  And his setting thy feet in that way that leadeth unto the

administration of death.

First, Thou must abhor his turning thee out of the way; yea, and thine

own consenting thereto; because this is to reject the counsel of God for

the sake of the counsel of a Worldly Wiseman.  The Lord says, "Strive to

enter in at the straight gate," Luke 13:24, the gate to which I send

thee; "for strait is the gate that leadeth unto life, and few there be

that find it."  Matt.  7:13,14.  From this little wicket-gate, and from

the way thereto, hath this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of

thee almost to destruction: hate, therefore, his turning thee out of the

way, and abhor thyself for hearkening to him.

Secondly, Thou must abhor his laboring to render the cross odious unto

thee; for thou art to prefer it before the treasures of Egypt.  Heb.

11:25,26.  Besides, the King of glory hath told thee, that he that will

save his life shall lose it.  And he that comes after him, and hates not

his father, and mother, and wife, and children, and brethren, and

sisters, yea, and his own life also, he cannot be his disciple.  Mark

8:38; John 12:25; Matt.  10:39; Luke 14:26.  I say, therefore, for a man

to labor to persuade thee that that shall be thy death, without which,

the truth hath said, thou canst not have eternal life, this doctrine

thou must abhor.

Thirdly, Thou must hate his setting of thy feet in the way that leadeth

to the ministration of death.  And for this thou must consider to whom

he sent thee, and also how unable that person was to deliver thee from

thy burden.

He to whom thou wast sent for ease, being by name Legality, is the son

of the bond-woman which now is, and is in bondage with her children,

Gal.  4:21-27, and is, in a mystery, this Mount Sinai, which thou hast

feared will fall on thy head.  Now if she with her children are in

bondage, how canst thou expect by them to be made free?  This Legality,

therefore, is not able to set thee free from thy burden.  No man was as

yet ever rid of his burden by him; no, nor ever is like to be: ye cannot

be justified by the works of the law; for by the deeds of the law no man

living can be rid of his burden: Therefore Mr.  Worldly Wiseman is an

alien, and Mr.  Legality is a cheat; and for his son Civility,

notwithstanding his simpering looks, he is but a hypocrite, and cannot

help thee.  Believe me, there is nothing in all this noise that thou

hast heard of these sottish men, but a design to beguile thee of thy

salvation, by turning thee from the way in which I had set thee.  After

this, Evangelist called aloud to the heavens for confirmation of what he

had said; and with that there came words and fire out of the mountain

under which poor Christian stood, which made the hair of his flesh stand

up.  The words were pronounced: "As many as are of the works of the law,

are under the curse; for it is written, Cursed is every one that

continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to

do them."  Gal.  3:10.

Now Christian looked for nothing but death, and began to cry out

lamentably; even cursing the time in which he met with Mr.  Worldly

Wiseman; still calling himself a thousand fools for hearkening to his

counsel.  He also was greatly ashamed to think that this gentleman's

arguments, flowing only from the flesh, should have the prevalency with

him so far as to cause him to forsake the right way.  This done, he

applied himself again to Evangelist in words and sense as follows.

CHR. Sir, what think you?  Is there any hope?  May I now go back, and go

up to the wicket-gate?  Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent back

from thence ashamed?  I am sorry I have hearkened to this man's counsel;

but may my sin be forgiven?

EVAN. Then said Evangelist to him, Thy sin is very great, for by it thou

hast committed two evils: thou hast forsaken the way that is good, to

tread in forbidden paths.  Yet will the man at the gate receive thee,

for he has good-will for men; only, said he, take heed that thou turn

not aside again, lest thou "perish from the way, when his wrath is

kindled but a little."  Psalm 2:12.

THE SECOND STAGE.

Then did Christian address himself to go back; and Evangelist, after he

had kissed him, gave him one smile, and bid him God speed; So he went on

with haste, neither spake he to any man by the way; nor if any asked

him, would he vouchsafe them an answer.  He went like one that was all

the while treading on forbidden ground, and could by no means think

himself safe, till again he was got into the way which he had left to

follow Mr.  Worldly Wiseman's counsel.  So, in process of time,

Christian got up to the gate.  Now, over the gate there was written,

"Knock, and it shall be opened unto you."  Matt.  7:7.

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

"May I now enter here?  Will he within

Open to sorry me, though I have been

An undeserving rebel?  Then shall I

Not fail to sing his lasting praise on high."

At last there came a grave person to the gate, named Goodwill, who asked

who was there, and whence he came, and what he would have.

CHR. Here is a poor burdened sinner.  I come from the city of

Destruction, but am going to Mount Zion, that I may be delivered from

the wrath to come; I would therefore, sir, since I am informed that by

this gate is the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in.

GOOD. I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that he opened

the gate.

So when Christian was stepping in, the other gave him a pull.  Then said

Christian, What means that?  The other told him, A little distance from

this gate there is erected a strong castle, of which Beelzebub is the

captain: from thence both he and they that are with him, shoot arrows at

those that come up to this gate, if haply they may die before they can

enter in.  Then said Christian, I rejoice and tremble.  So when he was

got in, the man of the Gate asked him who directed him thither.

CHR. Evangelist bid me come hither and knock, as I did: and he said,

that you, sir, would tell me what I must do.

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

CHR. Now I begin to reap the benefits of my hazards.

GOOD. But how is it that you came alone?

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

GOOD. Did any of them know of your coming?

CHR. Yes, my wife and children saw me at the first, and called after me

to turn again: also, some of my neighbors stood crying and calling after

me to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and so came on my way.

GOOD. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go back?

CHR. Yes, both Obstinate and Pliable; but when they saw that they could

not prevail, Obstinate went railing back; but Pliable came with me a

little way.

GOOD. But why did he not come through?

CHR. We indeed came both together until we came to the Slough of

Despond, into the which we also suddenly fell.  And then was my neighbor

Pliable discouraged, and would not venture farther.  Wherefore, getting

out again on the side next to his own house, he told me I should possess

the brave country alone for him: so he went his way, and I came mine; he

after Obstinate, and I to this gate.

GOOD. Then said Goodwill, Alas, poor man; is the celestial glory of so

little esteem with him, that he counteth it not worth running the hazard

of a few difficulties to obtain it?

CHR. Truly, said Christian, I have said the truth of Pliable; and if I

should also say all the truth of myself, it will appear there is no

betterment betwixt him and myself.  It is true, he went back to his own

house, but I also turned aside to go in the way of death, being

persuaded thereto by the carnal arguments of one Mr.  Worldly Wiseman.

GOOD. Oh, did he light upon you?  What, he would have had you have seek

for ease at the hands of Mr.  Legality!  They are both of them a very

cheat.  But did you take his counsel?

CHR. Yes, as far as I durst.  I went to find out Mr.  Legality, until I

thought that the mountain that stands by his house would have fallen

upon my head; wherefore there I was forced to stop.

GOOD. That mountain has been the death of many, and will be the death of

many more: it is well you escaped being by it dashed in pieces.

CHR. Why truly I do not know what had become of me there, had not

Evangelist happily met me again as I was musing in the midst of my

dumps; but it was God's mercy that he came to me again, for else I had

never come hither.  But now I am come, such a one as I am, more fit

indeed for death by that mountain, than thus to stand talking with my

Lord.  But O, what a favor is this to me, that yet I am admitted

entrance here!

GOOD. We make no objections against any, notwithstanding all that they

have done before they come hither; they in no wise are cast out.  John

6:37.  And therefore good Christian, come a little way with me, and I

will teach thee about the way thou must go.  Look before thee; dost thou

see this narrow way?  That is the way thou must go.  It was cast up by

the patriarchs, prophets, Christ, and his apostles, and it is as strait

as a rule can make it; this is the way thou must go.

CHR. But, said Christian, are there no turnings nor windings, by which a

stranger may lose his way?

GOOD. Yes, there are many ways butt down upon this, and they are crooked

and wide: but thus thou mayest distinguish the right from the wrong, the

right only being strait and narrow.  Matt.  7:14.

Then I saw in my dream, that Christian asked him further, if he could

not help him off with his burden that was upon his back.  For as yet he

had not got rid thereof; nor could he by any means get it off without

help.

He told him, "As to thy burden, be content to bear it until thou comest

to the place of deliverance; for there it will fall from thy back of

itself."

Then Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his

journey.  So the other told him, that by that he was gone some distance

from the gate, he would come to the house of the Interpreter, at whose

door he should knock, and he would show him excellent things.  Then

Christian took his leave of his friend, and he again bid him God speed.

Then he went on till he came at the house of the Interpreter, 6 where he

knocked over and over.  At last one came to the door, and asked who was

there.

CHR. Sir, here is a traveller, who was bid by an acquaintance of the

good man of this house to call here for my profit; I would therefore

speak with the master of the house.

So he called for the master of the house, who, after a little time, came

to Christian, and asked him what he would have.

CHR. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the city of

Destruction, and am going to the Mount Zion; and I was told by the man

that stands at the gate at the head of this way, that if I called here

you would show me excellent things, such as would be helpful to me on my

journey.

INTER. Then said Interpreter, Come in; I will show thee that which will

be profitable to thee.  So he commanded his man to light the candle, and

bid Christian follow him; so he had him into a private room, and bid his

man open a door; the which when he had done, Christian saw the picture a

very grave person hang up against the wall; and this was the fashion of

it: It had eyes lifted up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, the

law of truth was written upon its lips, the world was behind its back;

it stood as if it pleaded with men, and a crown of gold did hang over

its head.

CHR. Then said Christian, What means this?

INTER. The man whose picture this is, is one of a thousand: he can beget

children, 1 Cor.  4:15, travail in birth with children, Gal.  4:19, and

nurse them himself when they are born.  And whereas thou seest him with

his eyes lift up to heaven, the best of books in his hand, and the law

of truth writ on his lips: it is to show thee, that his work is to know,

and unfold dark things to sinners; even as also thou seest him stand as

if he pleaded with men.  And whereas thou seest the world as cast behind

him, and that a crown hangs over his head; that is to show thee, that

slighting and despising the things that are present, for the love that

he hath to his Master's service, he is sure in the world that comes

next, to have glory for his reward.  Now, said the Interpreter, I have

showed thee this picture first, because the man whose picture this is,

is the only man whom the Lord of the place whither thou art going hath

authorized to be thy guide in all difficult places thou mayest meet with

in the way: wherefore take good heed to what I have showed thee, and

bear well in thy mind what thou hast seen, lest in thy journey thou meet

with some that pretend to lead thee right, but their way goes down to

death.

Then he took him by the hand, and led him into a very large parlor that

was full of dust, because never swept; the which after he had reviewed

it a little while, the Interpreter called for a man to sweep.  Now, when

he began to sweep, the dust began so abundantly to fly about, that

Christian had almost therewith been choked.  Then said the Interpreter

to a damsel that stood by, "Bring hither water, and sprinkle the room;"

the which when she had done, it was swept and cleansed with pleasure.

CHR. Then said Christian, What means this?

INTER. The Interpreter answered, This parlor is the heart of a man that

was never sanctified by the sweet grace of the Gospel.  The dust is his

original sin, and inward corruptions, that have defiled the whole man.

He that began to sweep at first, is the law; but she that brought water,

and did sprinkle it, is the Gospel.  Now whereas thou sawest, that so

soon as the first began to sweep, the dust did so fly about that the

room by him could not be cleansed, but that thou wast almost choked

therewith; this is to show thee, that the law, instead of cleansing the

heart (by its working) from sin, doth revive, Rom.  7:9, put strength

into, 1 Cor.  15:56, and increase it in the soul, Rom.  5:20, even as it

doth discover and forbid it; for it doth not give power to subdue.

Again, as thou sawest the damsel sprinkle the room with water, upon

which it was cleansed with pleasure, this is to show thee, that when the

Gospel comes in the sweet and precious influences thereof to the heart,

then, I say, even as thou sawest the damsel lay the dust by sprinkling

the floor with water, so is sin vanquished and subdued, and the soul

made clean, through the faith of it, and consequently fit for the King

of glory to inhabit.  John 15:3; Eph.  5:26; Acts 15:9; Rom.  16:25,26.

I saw moreover in my dream, that the Interpreter took him by the hand,

and had him into a little room, where sat two little children, each one

in his chair.  The name of the eldest was Passion, and the name of the

other Patience.  Passion seemed to be much disconted, but Patience was

very quiet.  Then Christian asked, "What is the reason of the discontent

of Passion?"  The Interpreter answered, "The governor of them would have

him stay for his best things till the beginning of the next year, but he

will have all now; but Patience is willing to wait."

Then I saw that one came to Passion, and brought him a bag of treasure,

and poured it down at his feet: the which he took up, and rejoiced

therein, and withal laughed Patience to scorn.  But I beheld but a

while, and he had lavished all away, and had nothing left him but rags.

CHR. Then said Christian to the Interpreter, Expound this matter more

fully to me.

INTER. So he said, These two lads are figures; Passion of the men of

this world, and Patience of the men of that which is to come; for, as

here thou seest, passion will have all now, this year, that is to say,

in this world; so are the men of this world: They must have all their

good things now; they cannot stay till the next year, that is, until the

next world, for their portion of good.  That proverb, "A bird in the

hand is worth two in the bush," is of more authority with them than are

all the divine testimonies of the good of the world to come.  But as

thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all away, and had presently

left him nothing but rags, so will it be with all such men at the end of

this world.

CHR. Then said Christian, Now I see that Patience has the best wisdom,

and that upon many accounts.  1.  Because he stays for the best things.

2.  And also because he will have the glory of his, when the other has

nothing but rags.

INTER. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the next world

will never wear out; but these are suddenly gone.  Therefore Passion had

not so much reason to laugh at Patience because he had his good things

first, as Patience will have to laugh at Passion because he had his best

things last; for first must give place to last, because last must have

his time to come: but last gives place to nothing, for there is not

another to succeed.  He, therefore, that hath his portion first, must

needs have a time to spend it; but he that hath his portion last, must

have it lastingly: therefore it is said of Dives, "In thy lifetime thou

receivedst thy good things, and likewise Lazarus evil things; but now he

is comforted, and thou art tormented."  Luke 16:25.

CHR. Then I perceive it is not best to cover things that are now, but to

wait for things to come.

INTER. You say truth: for the things that are seen are temporal, but the

things that are not seen are eternal.  2 Cor.  4:18.  But though this be

so, yet since things present and our fleshly appetite are such near

neighbors one to another; and again, because things to come and carnal

sense are such strangers one to another; therefore it is, that the first

of these so suddenly fall into amity, and that distance is so continued

between the second.

Then I saw in my dream, that the Interpreter took Christian by the hand,

and led him into a place where was a fire burning against a wall, and

one standing by it, always casting much water upon it, to quench it; yet

did the fire burn higher and hotter.

Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This fire is the work of grace that is wrought

in the heart; he that casts water upon it, to extinguish and put it out,

is the devil: but in that thou seest the fire, notwithstanding, burn

higher and hotter, thou shalt also see the reason of that.  So he had

him about to the back side of the wall, where he saw a man with a vessel

of oil in his hand, of the which he did also continually cast (but

secretly) into the fire.

Then said Christian, What means this?

The Interpreter answered, This is Christ, who continually, with the oil

of his grace, maintains the work already begun in the heart; by the

means of which, notwithstanding what the devil can do, the souls of his

people prove gracious still.  2 Cor.  12:9.  And in that thou sawest

that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the fire; this is to

teach thee, that it is hard for the tempted to see how this work of

grace is maintained in the soul.

I saw also, that the Interpreter took him again by the hand, and led him

into a pleasant place, where was built a stately palace, beautiful to

behold; at the sight of which Christian was greatly delighted.  He saw

also upon the top thereof certain persons walking, who were clothed all

in gold.

Then said Christian may we go in thither?

Then the Interpreter took him, and led him up towards the door of the

palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company of men, as

desirous to go in, but durst not.  There also sat a man at a little

distance from the door, at a table-side, with a book and his inkhorn

before him, to take the names of them that should enter therein; he saw

also that in the doorway stood many men in armor to keep it, being

resolved to do to the men that would enter, what hurt and mischief they

could.  Now was Christian somewhat in amaze.  At last, when every man

started back for fear of the armed men, Christian saw a man of a very

stout countenance come up to the man that sat there to write, saying,

"Set down my name, sir;" the which when he had done, he saw the man draw

his sword, and put a helmet on his head, and rush towards the door upon

the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly force; but the man, not at

all discouraged, fell to cutting and hacking most fiercely.  So after he

had received and given many wounds to those that attempted to keep him

out, Matt.  11:12; Acts 14:22; he cut his way through them all, and

pressed forward into the palace; at which there was a pleasant voice

heard from those that were within, even of those that walked upon the

top of the palace, saying,

"Come in, come in,

Eternal glory thou shalt win."

So he went in, and was clothed with such garments as they.  Then

Christian smiled, and said, I think verily I know the meaning of this.

Now, said Christian, let me go hence.  Nay, stay, said the Interpreter,

till I have showed thee a little more, and after that thou shalt go on

thy way.  So he took him by the hand again, and led him into a very dark

room, where there sat a man in an iron cage.

Now the man, to look on, seemed very sad; he sat with his eyes looking

down to the ground, his hands folded together, and he sighed as if he

would break his heart.  Then said Christian, What means this?  At which

the Interpreter bid him talk with the man.

Then said Christian to the man, What art thou?  The man answered, I am

what I was not once.

CHR. What wast thou once?

MAN. The man said, I was once a fair and flourishing professor, Luke

8:13, both in mine own eyes, and also in the eyes of others: I once was,

as I thought, fair for the celestial city, and had then even joy at the

thoughts that I should get thither.

CHR. Well, but what art thou now?

MAN. I am now a man of despair, and am shut up in it, as in this iron

cage.  I cannot get out; Oh now I cannot!

CHR. But how camest thou into this condition?

MAN. I left off to watch and be sober: I laid the reins upon the neck of

my lusts; I sinned against the light of the word, and the goodness of

God; I have grieved the Spirit, and he is gone; I tempted the devil, and

he is come to me; I have provoked God to anger, and he has left me: I

have so hardened my heart, that I cannot repent.

Then said Christian to the Interpreter, But is there no hope for such a

man as this?  Ask him, said the Interpreter.

CHR. Then said Christian, Is there no hope, but you must be kept in the

iron cage of despair?

MAN. No, none at all.

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

MAN. I have crucified him to myself afresh, Heb.  6:6; I have despised

his person, Luke 19:14; I have despised his righteousness; I have

counted his blood an unholy thing; I have done despite to the spirit of

grace, Heb.  10:29: therefore I have shut myself out of all the promises

and there now remains to me nothing but threatenings, dreadful

threatenings, faithful threatenings of certain judgment and fiery

indignation, which shall devour me as an adversary.

CHR. 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.

CHR. But canst thou not now repent and turn?

MAN. God hath denied me repentance.  His word gives me no encouragement

to believe; yea, himself hath shut me up in this iron cage: nor can all

the men in the world let me out.  Oh eternity!  eternity!  how shall I

grapple with the misery that I must meet with in eternity?

INTER. Then said the Interpreter to Christian, Let this man's misery be

remembered by thee, and be an everlasting caution to thee.

CHR. Well, said Christian, this is fearful!  God help me to watch and to

be sober, and to pray that I may shun the cause of this man's misery.

Sir, is it not time for me to go on my way now?

INTER. Tarry till I shall show thee one thing more, and then thou shalt

go on thy way.

So he took Christian by the hand again and led him into a chamber where

there was one rising out of bed; and as he put on his raiment, he shook

and trembled.  Then said Christian, Why doth this man thus tremble?  The

Interpreter then bid him tell to Christian the reason of his so doing.

So he began, and said, "This night, as I was in my sleep, I dreamed, and

behold the heavens grew exceeding black; also it thundered and lightened

in most fearful wise, that it put me into an agony.  So I looked up in

my dream, and saw the clouds rack at an unusual rate; upon which I heard

a great sound of a trumpet, and saw also a man sitting upon a cloud,

attended with the thousands of heaven: they were all in flaming fire;

also the heavens were in a burning flame.  I heard then a voice, saying,

'Arise, ye dead, and come to judgment.'  And with that the rocks rent,

the graves opened, and the dead that were therein came forth: some of

them were exceeding glad, and looked upward; and some sought to hide

themselves under the mountains.  Then I saw the man that sat upon the

cloud open the book, and bid the world draw near.  Yet there was, by

reason of a fierce flame that issued out and came from before him, a

convenient distance between him and them, as between the judge and the

prisoners at the bar.  1 Cor.  15; 1 Thess.  4:16; Jude 15; John 5:

28,29; 2 Thess.  1:8-10; Rev.  20:11-14; Isa.  26:21; Micah 7:16,17;

Psa.  5:4; 50:1-3; Mal.  3:2,3; Dan.  7:9,10.  I heard it also

proclaimed to them that attended on the man that sat on the cloud,

'Gather together the tares, the chaff, and stubble, and cast them into

the burning lake.'  Matt.  3:12; 18:30; 24:30; Mal.  4:1.  And with that

the bottomless pit opened, just whereabout I stood; out of the mouth of

which there came, in an abundant manner, smoke, and coals of fire, with

hideous noises.  It was also said to the same persons, 'Gather my wheat

into the garner.'  Luke 3:17.  And with that I saw many catched up and

carried away into the clouds, but I was left behind.  1 Thess.  4:16,17.

I also sought to hide myself, but I could not, for the man that sat upon

the cloud still kept his eye upon me; my sins also came into my mind,

and my conscience did accuse me on every side.  Rom.  2:14,15.  Upon

this I awakened from my sleep."

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

MAN. Why, I thought that the day of judgment was come, and that I was

not ready for it: but this frightened me most, that the angels gathered

up several, and left me behind; also the pit of hell opened her mouth

just where I stood.  My conscience too afflicted me; and, as I thought,

the Judge had always his eye upon me, showing indignation in his

countenance.

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

things?"

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

INTER. Well, keep all things so in thy mind, that they may be as a goad

in thy sides, to prick thee forward in the way thou must go.  Then

Christian began to gird up his loins, and to address himself to his

journey.  Then said the Interpreter, "The Comforter be always with thee,

good Christian, to guide thee in the way that leads to the city."  So

Christian went on his way, saying,

"Here I have seen things rare and profitable,

Things pleasant, dreadful, things to make me stable

In what I have begun to take in hand:

Then let me think on them, and understand

Wherefore they showed me were, and let me be

Thankful, O good Interpreter, to thee."

THE THIRD STAGE.

Now I saw in my dream, that the highway up which Christian was to go,

was fenced on either side with a wall, and that wall was called

Salvation.  Isaiah 26:1.  Up this way, therefore, did burdened Christian

run, but not without great difficulty, because of the load on his back.

He ran thus till he came at a place somewhat ascending; and upon that

place stood a cross, and a little below, in the bottom, a sepulchre.  So

I saw in my dream, that just as Christian came up with the cross, his

burden loosed from off his shoulders, and fell from off his back, and

began to tumble, and so continued to do till it came to the mouth of the

sepulchre, where it fell in, and I saw it no more.

Then was Christian glad and lightsome, and said with a merry heart, "He

hath given me rest by his sorrow, and life by his death."  Then he stood

still a while, to look and wonder; for it was very surprising to him

that the sight of the cross should thus ease him of his burden.  He

looked, therefore, and looked again, even till the springs that were in

his head sent the waters down his cheeks.  Zech.  12:10.  Now as he

stood looking and weeping, behold, three Shining Ones came to him, and

saluted him with, "Peace be to thee."  So the first said to him, "Thy

sins be forgiven thee," Mark 2:5; the second stripped him of his rags,

and clothed him with change of raiment, Zech.  3:4; the third also set a

mark on his forehead, Eph.  1:13, and gave him a roll with a seal upon

it, which he bid him look on as he ran, and that he should give it in at

the celestial gate: so they went their way.  Then Christian gave three

leaps for joy, and went on singing,

"Thus far did I come laden with my sin,

Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in,

Till I came hither.  What a place is this!

Must here be the beginning of my bliss?

Must here the burden fall from off my back?

Must here the strings that bound it to me crack?

Blest cross!  blest sepulchre!  blest rather be

The Man that there was put to shame for me!"

I saw then in my dream, that he went on thus, even until he came at the

bottom, where he saw, a little out of the way, three men fast asleep,

with fetters upon their heels.  The name of the one was Simple, of

another Sloth, and of the third Presumption.

Christian then seeing them lie in this case, went to them, if

peradventure he might awake them, and cried, you are like them that

sleep on the top of a mast, Prov.  23:34, for the Dead Sea is under you,

a gulf that hath no bottom: awake, therefore, and come away; be willing

also, and I will help you off with your irons.  He also told them, If he

that goeth about like a roaring lion, 1 Pet.  5:8, comes by, you will

certainly become a prey to his teeth.  With that they looked upon him,

and began to reply in this sort: Simple said, I see no danger; Sloth

said, Yet a little more sleep; and Presumption said, Every tub must

stand upon its own bottom.  And so they lay down to sleep again, and

Christian went on his way.

Yet he was troubled to think that men in that danger should so little

esteem the kindness of him that so freely offered to help them, both by

awakening of them, counselling of them, and proffering to help them off

with their irons.  And as he was troubled thereabout, he espied two men

come tumbling over the wall, on the left hand of the narrow way; and

they made up apace to him.  The name of the one was Formalist, and the

name of the other Hypocrisy.  So, as I said, they drew up unto him, who

thus entered with them into discourse.

CHR. Gentlemen, whence came you, and whither do you go?

FORM. AND HYP. We were born in the land of Vain-glory, and are going,

for praise, to Mount Zion.

CHR. Why came you not in at the gate which standeth at the beginning of

the way?  Know ye not that it is written, that "he that cometh not in by

the door, but climbeth up some other way, the same is a thief and a

robber?"  John 10:1.

FORM. AND HYP. 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.

CHR. But will it not be counted a trespass against the Lord of the city

whither we are bound, thus to violate his revealed will?

FORM. AND HYP. They told him, that as for that, he needed not to trouble

his head thereabout: for what they did they had custom for, and could

produce, if need were, testimony that would witness it for more than a

thousand years.

CHR. But, said Christian, will you stand a trial at law?

FORM. AND HYP. They told him, that custom, it being of so long standing

as above a thousand years, would doubtless now be admitted as a thing

legal by an impartial judge: and besides, said they, if we get into the

way, what matter is it which way we get in?  If we are in, we are in:

thou art but in the way, who, as we perceive, came in at the gate; and

we also are in the way, that came tumbling over the wall: wherein now is

thy condition better than ours?

CHR. I walk by the rule of my Master: you walk by the rude working of

your fancies.  You are counted thieves already by the Lord of the way:

therefore I doubt you will not be found true men at the end of the way.

You come in by yourselves without his direction, and shall go out by

yourselves without his mercy.

To this they made him but little answer; only they bid him look to

himself.  Then I saw that they went on, every man in his way, without

much conference one with another, save that these two men told

Christian, that as to laws and ordinances, they doubted not but that

they should as conscientiously do them as he.  Therefore, said they, we

see not wherein thou differest from us, but by the coat that is on thy

back, which was, as we trow, given thee by some of thy neighbors, to

hide the shame of thy nakedness.

CHR. By laws and ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in

by the door.  Gal.  2:16.  And as for this coat that is on my back, it

was given me by the Lord of the place whither I go; and that, as you

say, to cover my nakedness with.  And I take it as a token of kindness

to me; for I had nothing but rags before.  And besides, thus I comfort

myself as I go.  Surely, think I, when I come to the gate of the city,

the Lord thereof will know me for good, since I have his coat on my

back; a coat that he gave me freely in the day that he stripped me of my

rags.  I have, moreover, a mark in my forehead, of which perhaps you

have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate associates

fixed there in the day that my burden fell off my shoulders.  I will

tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a roll sealed, to comfort

me by reading as I go on the way; I was also bid to give it in at the

celestial gate, in token of my certain going in after it: all which

things I doubt you want, and want them because you came not in at the

gate.

To these things they gave him no answer; only they looked upon each

other, and laughed.  Then I saw that they went all on, save that

Christian kept before, who had no more talk but with himself, and that

sometimes sighingly, and sometimes comfortably: also he would be often

reading in the roll that one of the Shining Ones gave him, by which he

was refreshed.

I beheld then, that they all went on till they came to the foot of the

hill Difficulty, at the bottom of which there was a spring.  There were

also in the same place two other ways besides that which came straight

from the gate: one turned to the left hand, and the other to the right,

at the bottom of the hill; but the narrow way lay right up the hill, and

the name of the going up the side of the hill is called Difficulty.

Christian now went to the spring, Isa.  49:10, and drank thereof to

refresh himself, and then began to go up the hill, saying,

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

The difficulty will not me offend;

For I perceive the way to life lies here:

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

Better, though difficult, the right way to go,

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

The other two also came to the foot of the hill.  But when they saw that

the hill was steep and high, and that there were two other ways to go;

and supposing also that these two ways might meet again with that up

which Christian went, on the other side of the hill; therefore they were

resolved to go in those ways.  Now the name of one of those ways was

Danger, and the name of the other Destruction.  So the one took the way

which is called Danger, which led him into a great wood; and the other

took directly up the way to Destruction, which led him into a wide

field, full of dark mountains, where he stumbled and fell, and rose no

more.

I looked then after Christian, to see him go up the hill, where I

perceived he fell from running to going, and from going to clambering

upon his hands and his knees, because of the steepness of the place.

Now about the midway to the top of the hill was a pleasant Arbor, made

by the Lord of the hill for the refreshment of weary travellers.

Thither, therefore, Christian got, where also he sat down to rest him:

then he pulled his roll out of his bosom, and read therein to his

comfort; he also now began afresh to take a review of the coat or

garment that was given to him as he stood by the cross.  Thus pleasing

himself awhile, he at last fell into a slumber, and thence into a fast

sleep, which detained him in that place until it was almost night; and

in his sleep his roll fell out of his hand.  Now, as he was sleeping,

there came one to him, and awaked him, saying, "Go to the ant, thou

sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise."  Prov.  6:6.  And with that,

Christian suddenly started up, and sped him on his way, and went apace

till he came to the top of the hill.

Now when he was got up to the top of the hill, there came two men

running amain; the name of the one was Timorous, and of the other

Mistrust: to whom Christian said, Sirs, what's the matter?  you run the

wrong way.  Timorous answered, that they were going to the city of Zion,

and had got up that difficult place: but, said he, the farther we go,

the more danger we meet with; wherefore we turned, and are going back

again.

Yes, said Mistrust, for just before us lie a couple of lions in the way,

whether sleeping or waking we know not; and we could not think, if we

came within reach, but they would presently pull us in pieces.

CHR. Then said Christian, You make me afraid; but whither shall I fly to

be safe?  If I go back to mine own country, that is prepared for fire

and brimstone, and I shall certainly perish there; if I can get to the

celestial city, I am sure to be in safety there: I must venture.  To go

back is nothing but death: to go forward is fear of death, and life

everlasting beyond it: I will yet go forward.  So Mistrust and Timorous

ran down the hill, and Christian went on his way.  But thinking again of

what he had heard from the men, he felt in his bosom for his roll, that

he might read therein and be comforted; but he felt, and found it not.

Then was Christian in great distress, and knew not what to do; for he

wanted that which used to relieve him, and that which should have been

his pass into the celestial city.  Here, therefore, he began to be much

perplexed, and knew not what to do.  At last he bethought himself that

he had slept in the arbor that is on the side of the hill; and falling

down upon his knees, he asked God forgiveness for that foolish act, and

then went back to look for his roll.  But all the way he went back, who

can sufficiently set forth the sorrow of Christian's heart?  Sometimes

he sighed, sometimes he wept, and oftentimes he chid himself for being

so foolish to fall asleep in that place, which was erected only for a

little refreshment from his weariness.  Thus, therefore, he went back,

carefully looking on this side and on that, all the way as he went, if

happily he might find his roll, that had been his comfort so many times

in his journey.  He went thus till he came again in sight of the arbor

where he sat and slept; but that sight renewed his sorrow the more, by

bringing again, even afresh, his evil of sleeping unto his mind.  Rev.

2:4; 1 Thess.  5:6-8.  Thus, therefore, he now went on, bewailing his

sinful sleep, saying, O wretched man that I am, that I should sleep in

the daytime!  that I should sleep in the midst of difficulty!  that I

should so indulge the flesh as to use that rest for ease to my flesh

which the Lord of the hill hath erected only for the relief of the

spirits of pilgrims!  How many steps have I taken in vain!  Thus it

happened to Israel; for their sin they were sent back again by the way

of the Red Sea; and I am made to tread those steps with sorrow, which I

might have trod with delight, had it not been for this sinful sleep.

How far might I have been on my way by this time!  I am made to tread

those steps thrice over, which I needed not to have trod but once: yea,

now also I am like to be benighted, for the day is almost spent.  O that

I had not slept!

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

sat down and wept; but at last, (as Providence would have it,) looking

sorrowfully down under the settle, there he espied his roll, the which

he with trembling and haste catched up, and put it into his bosom.  But

who can tell how joyful this man was when he had gotten his roll again?

For this roll was the assurance of his life, and acceptance at the

desired haven.  Therefore he laid it up in his bosom, gave thanks to God

for directing his eye to the place where it lay, and with joy and tears

betook himself again to his journey.  But O how nimbly did he go up the

rest of the hill!  Yet before he got up, the sun went down upon

Christian; and this made him again recall the vanity of his sleeping to

his remembrance; and thus he again began to condole with himself: Oh

thou sinful sleep!  how for thy sake am I like to be benighted in my

journey!  I must walk without the sun, darkness must cover the path of

my feet, and I must hear the noise of the doleful creatures, because of

my sinful sleep!  Now also he remembered the story that Mistrust and

Timorous told him of, how they were frighted with the sight of the

lions.  Then said Christian to himself again, These beasts range in the

night for their prey; and if they should meet with me in the dark, how

should I shift them?  how should I escape being by them torn in pieces?

Thus he went on his way.  But while he was bewailing his unhappy

miscarriage, he lift up his eyes, and behold there was a very stately

palace before him, the name of which was Beautiful, and it stood by the

highway-side.

So I saw in my dream that he made haste, and went forward, that if

possible he might get lodging there.  Now before he had gone far, he

entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off the

Porter's lodge, and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he

espied two lions in the way.  Now, thought he, I see the dangers that

Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by.  (The lions were chained, but

he saw not the chains.)  Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to

go back after them; for he thought nothing but death was before him.

But the Porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that

Christian made a halt, as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying,

Is thy strength so small?  Mark 4:40.  Fear not the lions, for they are

chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for

discovery of those that have none: keep in the midst of the path, and no

hurt shall come unto thee.

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

good heed to the directions of the Porter; he heard them roar, but they

did him no harm.  Then he clapped his hands, and went on till he came

and stood before the gate where the Porter was.  Then said Christian to

the Porter, Sir, what house is this?  and may I lodge here to-night?

The Porter answered, This house was built by the Lord of the hill, and

he built it for the relief and security of pilgrims.  The Porter also

asked whence he was, and whither he was going.

CHR. I am come from the city of Destruction, and am going to Mount Zion:

but because the sun is now set, I desire, if I may, to lodge here to-

night.

PORT. What is your name?

CHR. My name is now Christian, but my name at the first was Graceless: I

came of the race of Japheth, whom God will persuade to dwell in the

tents of Shem.  Gen.  9:27.

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

CHR. I had been here sooner, but that, wretched man that I am, I slept

in the arbor that stands on the hill-side!  Nay, I had, notwithstanding

that, been here much sooner, but that in my sleep I lost my evidence,

and came without it to the brow of the hill; and then feeling for it,

and not finding it, I was forced with sorrow of heart to go back to the

place where I slept my sleep, where I found it; and now I am come.

PORT. Well, I will call out one of the virgins of this place, who will,

if she likes your talk, bring you in to the rest of the family,

according to the rules of the house.  So Watchful the Porter rang a

bell, at the sound of which came out of the door of the house a grave

and beautiful damsel, named Discretion, and asked why she was called.

The Porter answered, This man is on a journey from the city of

Destruction to Mount Zion; but being weary and benighted, he asked me if

he might lodge here to-night: so I told him I would call for thee, who,

after discourse had with him, mayest do as seemeth thee good, even

according to the law of the house.

Then she asked him whence he was, and whither he was going; and he told

her.  She asked him also how he got into the way; and he told her.  Then

she asked him what he had seen and met with in the way, and he told her.

And at last she asked his name.  So he said, It is Christian; and I have

so much the more a desire to lodge here to-night, because, by what I

perceive, this place was built by the Lord of the hill for the relief

and security of pilgrims.  So she smiled, but the water stood in her

eyes; and after a little pause she said, I will call forth two or three

more of the family.  So she ran to the door, and called out Prudence,

Piety, and Charity, who, after a little more discourse with him, had him

into the family; and many of them meeting him at the threshold of the

house, said, Come in, thou blessed of the Lord; this house was built by

the Lord of the hill on purpose to entertain such pilgrims in.  Then he

bowed his head, and followed them into the house.  So when he was come

in and sat down, they gave him something to drink, and consented

together that, until supper was ready, some of them should have some

particular discourse with Christian, for the best improvement of time;

and they appointed Piety, Prudence, and Charity to discourse with him:

and thus they began.

PIETY. Come, good Christian, since we have been so loving to you as to

receive you into our house this night, let us, if perhaps we may better

ourselves thereby, talk with you of all things that have happened to you

in your pilgrimage.

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

PIETY. What moved you at first to betake yourself to a pilgrim's life?

CHR. I was driven out of my native country by a 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?

CHR. It was as God would have it; for when I was under the fears of

destruction, I did not know whither to go; but by chance there came a

man, even to me, as I was trembling and weeping, whose name is

Evangelist, and he directed me to the Wicket-gate, which else I should

never have found, and so set me into the way that hath led me directly

to this house.

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

CHR. Yes, and did see such things there, the remembrance of which will

stick by me as long as I live, especially three things: to wit, how

Christ, in despite of Satan, maintains his work of grace in the heart;

how the man had sinned himself quite out of hopes of God's mercy; and

also the dream of him that thought in his sleep the day of judgment was

come.

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

CHR. Yes, and a dreadful one it was, I thought; it made my heart ache as

he was telling of it, but yet I am glad I heard it.

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

CHR. No; he took me, and had me where he showed me a stately palace, and

how the people were clad in gold that were in it; and how there came a

venturous man, and cut his way through the armed men that stood in the

door to keep him out; and how he was bid to come in, and win eternal

glory.  Methought those things did ravish my heart.  I would have stayed

at that good man's house a twelvemonth, but that I knew I had farther to

go.

PIETY. And what saw you else in the way?

CHR. Saw?  Why, I went but a little farther, and I saw One, as I thought

in my mind, hang bleeding upon a tree; and the very sight of him made my

burden fall off my back; for I groaned under a very heavy burden, but

then it fell down from off me.  It was a strange thing to me, for I

never saw such a thing before: yea, and while I stood looking up, (for

then I could not forbear looking,) three Shining Ones came to me.  One

of them testified that my sins were forgiven me; another stripped me of

my rags, and gave me this broidered coat which you see; and the third

set the mark which you see in my forehead, and gave me this sealed roll,

(and with that he plucked it out of his bosom.)

PIETY. But you saw more than this, did you not?

CHR. The things that I have told you were the best: yet some other I

saw, as, namely, I saw three men, Simple, Sloth, and Presumption, lie

asleep, a little out of the way, as I came, with irons upon their heels;

but do you think I could awake them?  I also saw Formality and Hypocrisy

come tumbling over the wall, to go, as they pretended, to Zion; but they

were quickly lost, even as I myself did tell them, but they would not

believe.  But, above all, I found it hard work to get up this hill, and

as hard to come by the lions' mouths; and, truly, if it had not been for

the good man, the porter that stands at the gate, I do not know but

that, after all, I might have gone back again; but I thank God I am

here, and thank you for receiving me.

Then Prudence thought good to ask him a few questions, and desired his

answer to them.

PRU. Do you not think sometimes of the country from whence you came?

CHR. Yea, but with much shame and detestation.  Truly, if I had been

mindful of that country from whence I came out, I might have had

opportunity to have returned; but now I desire a better country, that

is, a heavenly one.  Heb.  11:15,16.

PRU. Do you not yet bear away with you some of the things that then you

were conversant withal?

CHR. Yes, but greatly against my will; especially my inward and carnal

cogitations, with which all my countrymen, as well as myself, were

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

choose mine own things, I would choose never to think of those things

more: but when I would be a doing that which is best, that which is

worst is with me.  Rom.  7:15, 21.

PRU. Do you not find sometimes as if those things were vanquished, which

at other times are your perplexity?

CHR. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they are to me golden hours in

which such things happen to me.

PRU. Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times as

if they were vanquished?

CHR. Yes: when I think what I saw at the cross, that will do it; and

when I look upon my broidered coat, that will do it; and when I look

into the roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my

thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

PRU. And what is it that makes you so desirous to go to Mount Zion?

CHR. Why, there I hope to see Him alive that did hang dead on the cross;

and there I hope to be rid of all those things that to this day are in

me an annoyance to me: there they say there is no death, Isa.  25:8;

Rev.  21:4; and there I shall dwell with such company as I like best.

For, to tell you the truth, I love Him because I was by Him eased of my

burden; and I am weary of my inward sickness.  I would fain be where I

shall die no more, and with the company that shall continually cry,

Holy, holy, holy.

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

man?

CHR. I have a wife and four small children.

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

CHR. Then Christian wept, and said, Oh, how willingly would I have done

it!  but they were all of them utterly averse to my going on pilgrimage.

CHAR. But you should have talked to them, and have endeavored to show

them the danger of staying behind.

CHR. So I did; and told them also what God had shown to me of the

destruction of our city; but I seemed to them as one that mocked, and

they believed me not.  Gen.  19:14.

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

CHR. Yes, and that with much affection; for you must think that my wife

and poor children were very dear to me.

CHAR. But did you tell them of your own sorrow, and fear of destruction?

for I suppose that destruction was visible enough to you.

CHR. Yes, over, and over, and over.  They might also see my fears in my

countenance, in my tears, and also in my trembling under the

apprehension of the judgment that did hang over our heads; but all was

not sufficient to prevail with them to come with me.

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

CHR. Why, my wife was afraid of losing this world, and my children were

given to the foolish delights of youth; so, what by one thing, and what

by another, they left me to wander in this manner alone.

CHAR. But did you not, with your vain life, damp all that you, by words,

used by way of persuasion to bring them away with you?

CHR. Indeed, I cannot commend my life, for I am conscious to myself of

many failings therein.  I know also, that a man, by his conversation,

may soon overthrow what, by argument or persuasion, he doth labor to

fasten upon others for their good.  Yet this I can say, I was very wary

of giving them occasion, by any unseemly action, to make them averse to

going on pilgrimage.  Yea, for this very thing, they would tell me I was

too precise, and that I denied myself of things (for their sakes) in

which they saw no evil.  Nay, I think I may say, that if what they saw

in me did hinder them, it was my great tenderness in sinning against

God, or of doing any wrong to my neighbor.

CHAR. Indeed, Cain hated his brother, because his own works were evil,

and his brother's righteous, 1 John, 3:12; and if thy wife and children

have been offended with thee for this, they thereby show themselves to

be implacable to good; thou hast delivered thy soul from their blood.

Ezek.  3:19.

Now I saw in my dream, that thus they sat talking together until supper

was ready.  So when they had made ready, they sat down to meat.  Now the

table was furnished with fat things, and with wine that was well

refined; and all their talk at the table was about the Lord of the hill;

as, namely, about what he had done, and wherefore he did what he did,

and why he had builded that house; and by what they said, I perceived

that he had been a great warrior, and had fought with and slain him that

had the power of death, Heb.  2:14,15; but not without great danger to

himself, which made me love him the more.

For, as they said, and as I believe, said Christian, he did it with the

loss of much blood.  But that which put the glory of grace into all he

did, was, that he did it out of pure love to his country.  And besides,

there were some of them of the household that said they had been and

spoke with him since he did die on the cross; and they have attested

that they had it from his own lips, that he is such a lover of poor

pilgrims, that the like is not to be found from the east to the west.

They, moreover, gave an instance of what they affirmed; and that was, he

had stripped himself of his glory that he might do this for the poor;

and that they heard him say and affirm, that he would not dwell in the

mountain of Zion alone.  They said, moreover, that he had made many

pilgrims princes, though by nature they were beggars born, and their

original had been the dunghill.  1 Sam.  2:8; Psa.  113:7.

Thus they discoursed together till late at night; and after they had

committed themselves to their Lord for protection, they betook

themselves to rest.  The pilgrim they laid in a large upper chamber,

whose window opened towards the sun-rising.  The name of the chamber was

Peace, where he slept till break of day, and then he awoke and sang,

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

Of Jesus, for the men that pilgrims are,

Thus to provide that I should be forgiven,

And dwell already the next door to heaven!"

So in the morning they all got up; and, after some more discourse, they

told him that he should not depart till they had shown him the rarities

of that place.  And first they had him into the study, where they showed

him records of the greatest antiquity; in which, as I remember my dream,

they showed him the pedigree of the Lord of the hill, that he was the

Son of the Ancient of days, and came by eternal generation.  Here also

was more fully recorded the acts that he had done, and the names of many

hundreds that he had taken into his service; and how he had placed them

in such habitations that could neither by length of days, nor decays of

nature, be dissolved.

Then they read to him some of the worthy acts that some of his servants

had done; as how they had subdued kingdoms, wrought righteousness,

obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of

fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong,

waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.

Heb.  11:33,34.

Then they read again another part of the records of the house, where it

was shown how willing their Lord was to receive into his favor any, even

any, though they in time past had offered great affronts to his person

and proceedings.  Here also were several other histories of many other

famous things, of all which Christian had a view; as of things both

ancient and modern, together with prophecies and predictions of things

that have their certain accomplishment, both to the dread and amazement

of enemies, and the comfort and solace of pilgrims.

The next day they took him, and had him into the armory, where they

showed him all manner of furniture which their Lord had provided for

pilgrims, as sword, shield, helmet, breastplate, all-prayer, and shoes

that would not wear out.  And there was here enough of this to harness

out as many men for the service of their Lord as there be stars in the

heaven for multitude.

They also showed him some of the engines with which some of his servants

had done wonderful things.  They showed him Moses' rod; the hammer and

nail with which Jael slew Sisera; the pitchers, trumpets, and lamps too,

with which Gideon put to flight the armies of Midian.  Then they showed

him the ox-goad wherewith Shamgar slew six hundred men.  They showed him

also the jawbone with which Samson did such mighty feats.  They showed

him moreover the sling and stone with which David slew Goliath of Gath;

and the sword also with which their Lord will kill the man of sin, in

the day that he shall rise up to the prey.  They showed him besides many

excellent things, with which Christian was much delighted.  This done,

they went to their rest again.

Then I saw in my dream, that on the morrow he got up to go forward, but

they desired him to stay till the next day also; and then, said they, we

will, if the day be clear, show you the Delectable Mountains; which,

they said, would yet farther add to his comfort, because they were

nearer the desired haven than the place where at present he was; so he

consented and stayed.  When the morning was up, they had him to the top

of the house, and bid him look south.  So he did, and behold, at a great

distance, he saw a most pleasant mountainous country, beautified with

woods, vineyards, fruits of all sorts, flowers also, with springs and

fountains, very delectable to behold.  Isa.  33:16,17.  Then he asked

the name of the country.  They said it was Immanuel's land; and it is as

common, said they, as this hill is, to and for all the pilgrims.  And

when thou comest there, from thence thou mayest see to the gate of the

celestial city, as the shepherds that live there will make appear.

Now he bethought himself of setting forward, and they were willing he

should.  But first, said they, let us go again into the armory.  So they

did; and when he came there, they harnessed him from head to foot with

what was of proof, lest perhaps he should meet with assaults in the way.

He being therefore thus accoutred, walked out with his friends to the

gate; and there he asked the Porter if he saw any pilgrim pass by.  Then

the Porter answered, Yes.

CHR. Pray, did you know him?  said he.

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

CHR. O, said Christian, I know him; he is my townsman, my near neighbor;

he comes from the place where I was born.  How far do you think he may

be before?

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

CHR. Well, said Christian, good Porter, the Lord be with thee, and add

to all thy plain blessings much increase for the kindness that thou hast

showed me.

THE FOURTH STAGE.

Then he began to go forward; but Discretion, Piety, Charity, and

Prudence would accompany him down to the foot of the hill.  So they went

on together, reiterating their former discourses, till they came to go

down the hill.  Then said Christian, As it was difficult coming up, so,

so far as I can see, it is dangerous going down.  Yes, said Prudence, so

it is; for it is a hard matter for a man to go down into the valley of

Humiliation, as thou art now, and to catch no slip by the way;

therefore, said they, we are come out to accompany thee down the hill.

So he began to go down, but very warily; yet he caught a slip or two.

Then I saw in my dream, that these good companions, when Christian was

got down to the bottom of the hill, gave him a loaf of bread, a bottle

of wine, and a cluster of raisins; and then he went on his way,

"Whilst Christian is among his godly friends,

Their golden mouths make him sufficient mends

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

He's clad with northern steel from top to toe."

But now, in this valley of Humiliation, poor Christian was hard put to

it; for he had gone but a little way before he espied a foul fiend

coming over the field to meet him: his name is Apollyon.  Then did

Christian begin to be afraid, and to cast in his mind whether to go

back, or to stand his ground.  But he considered again, that he had no

armor for his back, and therefore thought that to turn the back to him

might give him greater advantage with ease to pierce him with his darts;

therefore he resolved to venture and stand his ground: for, thought he,

had I no more in mine eye than the saving of my life, it would be the

best way to stand.

So he went on, and Apollyon met him.  Now the monster was hideous to

behold: he was clothed with scales like a fish, and they are his pride;

he had wings like a dragon, and feet like a bear, and out of his belly

came fire and smoke; and his mouth was as the mouth of a lion.  When he

was come up to Christian, he beheld him with a disdainful countenance,

and thus began to question him.

APOL. Whence came you, and whither are you bound?

CHR. I am come from the city of Destruction, which is the place of all

evil, and I am going to the city of Zion.

APOL. By this I perceive thou art one of my subjects; for all that

country is mine, and I am the prince and god of it.  How is it, then,

that thou hast run away from thy king?  Were it not that I hope thou

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

ground.

CHR. I was, indeed, born in your dominions, but your service was hard,

and your wages such as a man could not live on; for the wages of sin is

death, Rom.  6:23; therefore, when I was come to years, I did, as other

considerate persons do, look out if perhaps I might mend myself.

APOL. There is no prince that will thus lightly lose his subjects,

neither will I as yet lose thee; but since thou complainest of thy

service and wages, be content to go back, and what our country will

afford I do here promise to give thee.

CHR. But I have let myself to another, even to the King of princes; and

how can I with fairness go back with thee?

APOL. Thou hast done in this according to the proverb, "changed a bad

for a worse;" but it is ordinary for those that have professed

themselves his servants, after a while to give him the slip, and return

again to me.  Do thou so to, and all shall be well.

CHR. I have given him my faith, and sworn my allegiance to him; how then

can I go back from this, and not be hanged as a traitor.

APOL. Thou didst the same by me, and yet I am willing to pass by all, if

now thou wilt yet turn again and go back.

CHR. What I promised thee was in my non-age: and besides, I count that

the Prince, under whose banner I now stand, is able to absolve me, yea,

and to pardon also what I did as to my compliance with thee.  And

besides, O thou destroying Apollyon, to speak truth, I like his service,

his wages, his servants, his government, his company, and country,

better than thine; therefore leave off to persuade me farther: I am his

servant, and I will follow him.

APOL. Consider again, when thou art in cool blood, what thou art like to

meet with in the way that thou goest.  Thou knowest that for the most

part his servants come to an ill end, because they are transgressors

against me and my ways.  How many of them have been put to shameful

deaths!  And besides, thou countest his service better than mine;

whereas he never yet came from the place where he is, to deliver any

that served him out of their enemies' hands: but as for me, how many

times, as all the world very well knows, have I delivered, either by

power or fraud, those that have faithfully served me, from him and his,

though taken by them!  And so will I deliver thee.

CHR. His forbearing at present to deliver them, is on purpose to try

their love, whether they will cleave to him to the end: and as for the

ill end thou sayest they come to, that is most glorious in their

account.  For, for present deliverance, they do not much expect it; for

they stay for their glory; and then they shall have it, when their

Prince comes in his and the glory of the angels.

APOL. Thou hast already been unfaithful in thy service to him; and how

dost thou think to receive wages of him?

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

APOL. Thou didst faint at first setting out, when thou wast almost

choked in the gulf of Despond.  Thou didst attempt wrong ways to be rid

of thy burden, whereas thou shouldst have stayed till thy Prince had

taken it off.  Thou didst sinfully sleep, and lose thy choice things.

Thou wast almost persuaded also to go back at the sight of the lions.

And when thou talkest of thy journey, and of what thou hast seen and

heard, thou art inwardly desirous of vainglory in all that thou sayest

or doest.

CHR. All this is true, and much more which thou hast left out; but the

Prince whom I serve and honor is merciful, and ready to forgive.  But

besides, these infirmities possessed me in thy country, for there I

sucked them in, and I have groaned under them, been sorry for them, and

have obtained pardon of my Prince.

APOL. Then 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.

CHR. Apollyon, beware what you do, for I am in the King's highway, the

way of holiness; therefore take heed to yourself.

APOL. Then Apollyon straddled quite over the whole breadth of the way,

and said, I am void of fear in this matter.  Prepare thyself to die; for

I swear by my infernal den, that thou shalt go no farther: here will I

spill thy soul.  And with that he threw a flaming dart at his breast;

but Christian had a shield in his hand, with which he caught it, and so

prevented the danger of that.

Then did Christian draw, for he saw it was time to bestir him; and

Apollyon as fast made at him, throwing darts as thick as hail; by the

which, notwithstanding all that Christian could do to avoid it, Apollyon

wounded him in his head, his hand, and foot.  This made Christian give a

little back: Apollyon, therefore, followed his work amain, and Christian

again took courage, and resisted as manfully as he could.  This sore

combat lasted for above half a day, even till Christian was almost quite

spent: for you must know, that Christian, by reason of his wounds, must

needs grow weaker and weaker.

Then Apollyon, espying his opportunity, began to gather up close to

Christian, and wrestling with him, gave him a dreadful fall; and with

that Christian's sword flew out of his hand.  Then said Apollyon, I am

sure of thee now: and with that he had almost pressed him to death, so

that Christian began to despair of life.  But, as God would have it,

while Apollyon was fetching his last blow, thereby to make a full end of

this good man, Christian nimbly reached out his hand for his sword, and

caught it, saying, Rejoice not against me, O mine enemy: when I fall, I

shall arise, Mic.  7:8; and with that gave him a deadly thrust, which

made him give back, as one that had received his mortal wound.

Christian perceiving that, made at him again, saying, Nay, in all these

things we are more than conquerors, through Him that loved us.  Rom.

8:37.  And with that Apollyon spread forth his dragon wings, and sped

him away, that Christian saw him no more.  James 4:7.

In this combat no man can imagine, unless he had seen and heard, as I

did, what yelling and hideous roaring Apollyon made all the time of the

fight; he spake like a dragon: and on the other side, what sighs and

groans burst from Christian's heart.  I never saw him all the while give

so much as one pleasant look, till he perceived he had wounded Apollyon

with his two-edged sword; then, indeed, he did smile, and look upward!

But it was the dreadfullest sight that ever I saw.

So when the battle was over, Christian said, I will here give thanks to

him that hath delivered me out of the mouth of the lion, to him that did

help me against Apollyon.  And so he did, saying,

"Great Beelzebub, the captain of this fiend,

Designed my ruin; therefore to this end

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

That hellish was, did fiercely me engage:

But blessed Michael helped me, and I,

By dint of sword, did quickly make him fly:

Therefore to Him let me give lasting praise,

And thank and bless his holy name always."

Then there came to him a hand with some of the leaves of the tree of

life, the which Christian took and applied to the wounds that he had

received in the battle, and was healed immediately.  He also sat down in

that place to eat bread, and to drink of the bottle that was given him a

little before: so, being refreshed, he addressed himself to his journey

with his sword drawn in his hand; for he said, I know not but some other

enemy may be at hand.  But he met with no other affront from Apollyon

quite through this valley.

Now at the end of this valley was another, called the Valley of the

Shadow of Death; and Christian must needs go through it, because the way

to the Celestial City lay through the midst of it.  Now, this valley is

a very solitary place.  The prophet Jeremiah thus describes it: "A

wilderness, a land of deserts and pits, a land of drought, and of the

Shadow of Death, a land that no man" (but a Christian) "passeth through,

and where no man dwelt."  Jer.  2:6.

Now here Christian was worse put to it than in his fight with Apollyon,

as by the sequel you shall see.

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

the Shadow of Death, there met him two men, children of them that

brought up an evil report of the good land Num.13:32, making haste to go

back; to whom Christian spake as follows.

CHR. Whither are you going?

MEN. They said, Back, back; and we would have you do so too, if either

life or peace is prized by you.

CHR. Why, what's the matter?  said Christian.

MEN. Matter!  said they; we were going that way as you are going, and

went as far as we durst: and indeed we were almost past coming back; for

had we gone a little further, we had not been here to bring the news to

thee.

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

MEN. Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Death, but that

by good hap we looked before us, and saw the danger before we came to

it.  Psa.  44:19; 107:19.

CHR. But what have you seen?  said Christian.

MEN. Seen!  why the valley itself, which is as dark as pitch: we also

saw there the hobgoblins, satyrs, and dragons of the pit: we heard also

in that valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a people under

unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and irons: and

over that valley hang the discouraging clouds of confusion: Death also

doth always spread his wings over it.  In a word, it is every whit

dreadful, being utterly without order.  Job 3:5; 10:22.

CHR. Then, said Christian, I perceive not yet, by what you have said,

but that this is my way to the desired haven.  Psalm 44:18,19; Jer.

2:6.

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

So they parted, and Christian went on his way, but still with his sword

drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted.

I saw then in my dream, so far as this valley reached, there was on the

right hand a very deep ditch; that ditch is it into which the blind have

led the blind in all ages, and have both there miserably perished.

Again, behold, on the left hand there was a very dangerous quag, into

which, if even a good man falls, he finds no bottom for his foot to

stand on: into that quag king David once did fall, and had no doubt

therein been smothered, had not He that is able plucked him out.  Psa.

69:14.

The pathway was here also exceeding narrow, and therefore good Christian

was the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the

ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the mire on the

other; also, when he sought to escape the mire, without great

carefulness he would be ready to fall into the ditch.  Thus he went on,

and I heard him here sigh bitterly; for besides the danger mentioned

above, the pathway was here so dark, that ofttimes when he lifted up his

foot to go forward, he knew not where, or upon what he should set it

next.

About the midst of this valley I perceived the mouth of hell to be, and

it stood also hard by the wayside.  Now, thought Christian, what shall I

do?  And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such

abundance, with sparks and hideous noises, (things that cared not for

Christian's sword, as did Apollyon before,) that he was forced to put up

his sword, and betake himself to another weapon, called All-prayer, Eph.

6:18; so he cried, in my hearing, O Lord, I beseech thee, deliver my

soul.  Psa.  116:4.  Thus he went on a great while, yet still the flames

would be reaching towards him; also he heard doleful voices, and

rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn in

pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets.  This frightful sight

was seen, and these dreadful noises were heard by him for several miles

together; and coming to a place where he thought he heard a company of

fiends coming forward to meet him, he stopped, and began to muse what he

had best to do.  Sometimes he had half a thought to go back; then again

he thought he might be half-way through the valley.  He remembered also,

how he had already vanquished many a danger; and that the danger of

going back might be much more than for to go forward.  So he resolved to

go on; yet the fiends seemed to come nearer and nearer.  But when they

were come even almost at him, he cried out with a most vehement voice, I

will walk in the strength of the Lord God.  So they gave back, and came

no farther.

One thing I would not let slip.  I took notice that now poor Christian

was so confounded that he did not know his own voice; and thus I

perceived it.  Just when he was come over against the mouth of the

burning pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and stepped up

softly to him, and whisperingly suggested many grievous blasphemies to

him, which he verily thought had proceeded from his own mind.  This put

Christian more to it than any thing that he met with before, even to

think that he should now blaspheme Him that he loved so much before.

Yet if he could have helped it, he would not have done it; but he had

not the discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence these

blasphemies came.

When Christian had travelled in this disconsolate condition some

considerable time, he thought he heard the voice of a man, as going

before him, saying, Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of

Death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me.  Psa.  23:4.

Then was he glad, and that for these reasons:

First, Because he gathered from thence, that some who feared God were in

this valley as well as himself.

Secondly, For that he perceived God was with them, though in that dark

and dismal state.  And why not, thought he, with me?  though by reason

of the impediment that attends this place, I cannot perceive it.  Job

9:11.

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

and by.

So he went on, and called to him that was before; but he knew not what

to answer, for that he also thought himself to be alone.  And by and by

the day broke: then said Christian, "He hath turned the shadow of death

into the morning."  Amos 5:8.

Now morning being come, he looked back, not out of desire to return, but

to see, by the light of the day, what hazards he had gone through in the

dark.  So he saw more perfectly the ditch that was on the one hand, and

the quag that was on the other; also how narrow the way was which led

betwixt them both.  Also now he saw the hobgoblins, and satyrs, and

dragons of the pit, but all afar off; for after break of day they came

not nigh; yet they were discovered to him, according to that which is

written, "He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out

to light the shadow of death."  Job 12:22.

Now was Christian much affected with this deliverance from all the

dangers of his solitary way; which dangers, though he feared them much

before, yet he saw them more clearly now, because the light of the day

made them conspicuous to him.  And about this time the sun was rising,

and this was another mercy to Christian; for you must note, that though

the first part of the Valley of the Shadow of Death was dangerous, yet

this second part, which he was yet to go, was, if possible, far more

dangerous; for, from the place where he now stood, even to the end of

the valley, the way was all along set so full of snares, traps, gins,

and nets here, and so full of pits, pitfalls, deep holes, and shelvings-

down there, that had it now been dark, as it was when he came the first

part of the way, had he had a thousand souls, they had in reason been

cast away; but, as I said, just now the sun was rising.  Then said he,

"His Candle shineth on my head, and by his light I go through darkness."

Job 29:3.

In this light, therefore, he came to the end of the valley.  Now I saw

in my dream, that at the end of the valley lay blood, bones, ashes, and

mangled bodies of men, even of pilgrims that had gone this way formerly;

and while I was musing what should be the reason, I espied a little

before me a cave, where two giants, Pope and Pagan, dwelt in old times;

by whose power and tyranny the men whose bones, blood, ashes, etc., lay

there, were cruelly put to death.  But by this place Christian went

without much danger, whereat I somewhat wondered; but I have learnt

since, that Pagan has been dead many a day; and as for the other, though

he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd

brushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff

in his joints that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's

mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because

he cannot come at them.

So I saw that Christian went on his way; yet, at the sight of the old

man that sat at the mouth of the cave, he could not tell what to think,

especially because he spoke to him, though he could not go after him,

saying, You will never mend, till more of you be burned.  But he held

his peace, and set a good face on it; and so went by, and catched no

hurt.  Then sang Christian,

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

That I should be preserved in that distress

That I have met with here!  O blessed be

That hand that from it hath delivered me!

Dangers in darkness, devils, hell, and sin,

Did compass me, while I this vale was in;

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

My path about, that worthless, silly I

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

But since I live, let Jesus wear the crown."

THE FIFTH STAGE.

Now, as Christian went on his way, he came to a little ascent, which was

cast up on purpose that pilgrims might see before them: up there,

therefore, Christian went; and looking forward, he saw Faithful before

him upon his journey: Then said Christian aloud, Ho, ho; so-ho; stay,

and I will be your companion.  At that Faithful looked behind him; to

whom Christian cried again, Stay, stay, till I come up to you.  But

Faithful answered, No, I am upon my life, and the avenger of blood is

behind me.

At this Christian was somewhat moved, and putting to all his strength,

he quickly got up with Faithful, and did also overrun him; so the last

was first.  Then did Christian vaingloriously smile, because he had

gotten the start of his brother; but not taking good heed to his feet,

he suddenly stumbled and fell, and could not rise again until Faithful

came up to help him.

Then I saw in my dream, they went very lovingly on together, and had

sweet discourse of all things that had happened to them in their

pilgrimage; and thus Christian began.

CHR. My honored and well-beloved brother Faithful, I am glad that I have

overtaken you, and that God has so tempered our spirits that we can walk

as companions in this so pleasant a path.

FAITH. I had thought, my dear friend, to have had your company quite

from our town, but you did get the start of me; wherefore I was forced

to come thus much of the way alone.

CHR. How long did you stay in the city of Destruction before you set out

after me on your pilgrimage?

FAITH. Till I could stay no longer; for there was a great talk presently

after you were gone out, that our city would, in a short time, with fire

from heaven, be burnt down to the ground.

CHR. What, did your neighbors talk so?

FAITH. Yes, it was for a while in every body's mouth.

CHR. What, and did no more of them but you come out to escape the

danger?

FAITH. Though there was, as I said, a great talk thereabout, yet I do

not think they did firmly believe it; for, in the heat of the discourse,

I heard some of them deridingly speak of you and of your desperate

journey, for so they called this your pilgrimage.  But I did believe,

and do still, that the end of our city will be with fire and brimstone

from above; and therefore I have made my escape.

CHR. Did you hear no talk of neighbor Pliable?

FAITH. Yes, Christian, I heard that he followed you till he came to the

Slough of Despond, where, as some said, he fell in; but he would not be

known to have so done: but I am sure he was soundly bedabbled with that

kind of dirt.

CHR. And what said the neighbors to him?

FAITH. He hath, since his going back, been had greatly in derision, and

that among all 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.

CHR. But why should they be so set against him, since they also despise

the way that he forsook?

FAITH. O, they say, Hang him; he is a turncoat; he was not true to his

profession!  I think God has stirred up even His enemies to hiss at him,

and make him a proverb, because he hath forsaken the way.  Jer.

29:18,19.

CHR. Had you no talk with him before you came out?

FAITH. I met him once in the streets, but he leered away on the other

side, as one ashamed of what he had done; So I spake not to him.

CHR. Well, at my first setting out I had hopes of that man; but now I

fear he will perish in the overthrow of the city.  For it has happened

to him according to the true proverb, The dog is turned to his vomit

again, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.  2 Pet.

2:22.

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

be?

CHR. Well, neighbor Faithful, said Christian, let us leave him, and talk

of things that more immediately concern ourselves.  Tell me now what you

have met with in the way as you came; for I know you have met with some

things, or else it may be writ for a wonder.

FAITH. I escaped the slough that I perceive you fell into, and got up to

the gate without that danger; only I met with one whose name was Wanton,

that had like to have done me mischief.

CHR. It was well you escaped her net: Joseph was hard put to it by her,

and he escaped her as you did; but it had like to have cost him his

life.  Gen.  39:11-13.  But what did she do to you?

FAITH. You cannot think (but that you know something) what a flattering

tongue she had; she lay at me hard to turn aside with her, promising me

all manner of content.

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

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

CHR. Thank God that you escaped her: the abhorred of the Lord shall fall

into her pit.  Prov.  22:14.

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

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

FAITH. No, not to defile myself; for I remembered an old writing that I

had seen, which said, "Her steps take hold on Hell."  Prov.  5:5.  So I

shut mine eyes, because I would not be bewitched with her looks.  Job

31:1.  Then she railed on me, and I went my way.

CHR. Did you meet with no other assault as you came?

FAITH. When I came to the foot of the hill called Difficulty, I met with

a very aged man, who asked me what I was, and whither bound.  I told him

that I was a pilgrim, going to the Celestial City.  Then said the old

man, Thou lookest like an honest fellow; wilt thou be content to dwell

with me for the wages that I shall give thee?  Then I asked his name,

and where he dwelt?  He said his name was Adam the First, and that he

dwelt in the town of Deceit.  Eph.  4:22.  I asked him then what was his

work, and what the wages that he would give.  He told me that his work

was many delights; and his wages, that I should be his heir at last.  I

further asked him, what house he kept, and what other servants he had.

So he told me that his house was maintained with all the dainties of the

world, and that his servants were those of his own begetting.  Then I

asked how many children he had.  He said that he had but three

daughters, the Lust of the Flesh, the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of

Life, 1 John, 2:16; and that I should marry them if I would.  Then I

asked, how long time he would have me live with him; And he told me, as

long as he lived himself.

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

FAITH. Why, at first I found myself somewhat inclinable to go with the

man, for I thought he spake very fair; but looking in his forehead, as I

talked with him, I saw there written, "Put off the old man with his

deeds."

CHR. And how then?

FAITH. Then it came burning hot into my mind, that, whatever he said,

and however he flattered, when he got me home to his house he would sell

me for a slave.  So I bid him forbear to talk, for I would not come near

the door of his house.  Then he reviled me, and told me that he would

send such a one after me that should make my way bitter to my soul.  So

I turned to go away from him; but just as I turned myself to go thence,

I felt him take hold of my flesh, and give me such a deadly twitch back,

that I thought he had pulled part of me after himself: this made me cry,

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

Now, when I had got above half-way up, I looked behind me, and saw one

coming after me, swift as the wind; so he overtook me just about the

place where the settle stands.

CHR. Just there, said Christian, did I sit down to rest me; but being

overcome with sleep, I there lost this roll out of my bosom.

FAITH. But, good brother, hear me out.  So soon as the man overtook me,

it was but a word and a blow; for down he knocked me, and laid me for

dead.  But when I was a little come to myself again I asked him

wherefore he served me so.  He said because of my secret inclining to

Adam the First.  And with that he struck me another deadly blow on the

breast, and beat me down backward; so I lay at his foot as dead as

before.  So when I came to myself again I cried him mercy: but he said,

I know not how to show mercy; and with that he knocked me down again.

He had doubtless made an end of me, but that one came by and bid him

forbear.

CHR. Who was that that bid him forbear?

FAITH. I did not know him at first: but as he went by, I perceived the

holes in his hands and in his side: Then I concluded that he was our

Lord.  So I went up the hill.

CHR. That man that overtook you was Moses.  He spareth none; neither

knoweth he how to shew mercy to those that transgress the law.

FAITH. I know it very well; it was not the first time that he has met

with me.  'Twas he that came to me when I dwelt securely at home, and

that told me he would burn my house over my head if I stayed there.

CHR. But did you not see the house that stood there on the top of the

hill, on the side of which Moses met you?

FAITH. Yes, and the lions too, before I came at it.  But, for the lions,

I think they were asleep, for it was about noon; and because I had so

much of the day before me, I passed by the Porter, and came down the

hill.

CHR. He told me, indeed, that he saw you go by; but I wish you had

called at the house, for they would have showed you so many rarities

that you would scarce have forgot them to the day of your death.  But

pray tell me, Did you meet nobody in the Valley of Humility?

FAITH. Yes, I met with one Discontent, who would willingly have

persuaded me to go back again with him: his reason was, for that the

valley was altogether without honor.  He told me, moreover, that to go

there was the way to disoblige all my friends, as Pride, Arrogancy, Self

-Conceit, Worldly Glory, with others, who he knew, as he said, would be

very much offended if I made such a fool of myself as to wade through

this valley.

CHR. Well, and how did you answer him?

FAITH. I told him, that although all these that he named, might claim a

kindred of me, and that rightly, (for indeed they were my relations

according to the flesh,) yet since I became a pilgrim they have disowned

me, and I also have rejected them; and therefore they were to me now no

more than if they had never been of my lineage.  I told him, moreover,

that as to this valley, he had quite misrepresented the thing; for

before honor is humility, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

Therefore, said I, I had rather go through this valley to the honor that

was so accounted by the wisest, than choose that which he esteemed most

worthy of our affections.

CHR. Met you with nothing else in that valley?

FAITH. Yes, I met with Shame; but of all the men that I met with on my

pilgrimage, he, I think, bears the wrong name.  The other would be said

nay, after a little argumentation, and somewhat else; but this bold-

faced Shame would never have done.

CHR. Why, what did he say to you?

FAITH. What?  why, he objected against religion itself.  He said it was

a pitiful, low, sneaking business for a man to mind religion.  He said,

that a tender conscience was an unmanly thing; and that for a man to

watch over his words and ways, so as to tie up himself from that

hectoring liberty that the brave spirits of the times accustomed

themselves unto, would make him the ridicule of the times.  He objected

also, that but few of the mighty, rich, or wise, were ever of my

opinion; nor any of them neither, before they were persuaded to be

fools, and to be of a voluntary fondness to venture the loss of all for

nobody knows what.  1 Cor.  1:26; 3:18; Phil.  3:7-9; John 7:48.  He,

moreover, objected the base and low estate and condition of those that

were chiefly the pilgrims of the times in which they lived; also their

ignorance and want of understanding in all natural science.  Yea, he did

hold me to it at that rate also, about a great many more things than

here I relate; as, that it was a shame to sit whining and mourning under

a sermon, and a shame to come sighing and groaning home; that it was a

shame to ask my neighbor forgiveness for petty faults, or to make

restitution where I have taken from any.  He said also, that religion

made a man grow strange to the great, because of a few vices, which he

called by finer names, and made him own and respect the base, because of

the same religious fraternity: And is not this, said he, a shame?

CHR. And what did you say to him?

FAITH. Say?  I could not tell what to say at first.  Yea, he put me so

to it, that my blood came up in my face; even this Shame fetched it up,

and had almost beat me quite off.  But at last I began to consider, that

that which is highly esteemed among men, is had in abomination with God.

Luke 16:15.  And I thought again, this Shame tells me what men are; but

he tells me nothing what God, or the word of God is.  And I thought,

moreover, that at the day of doom we shall not be doomed to death or

life according to the hectoring spirits of the world, but according to

the wisdom and law of the Highest.  Therefore, thought I, what God says

is best, is indeed best, though all the men in the world are against it.

Seeing, then, that God prefers his religion; seeing God prefers a tender

Conscience; seeing they that make themselves fools for the kingdom of

heaven are wisest, and that the poor man that loveth Christ is richer

than the greatest man in the world that hates him; Shame, depart, thou

art an enemy to my salvation.  Shall I entertain thee against my

sovereign Lord?  How then shall I look him in the face at his coming?

Mark 8:38.  Should I now be ashamed of his ways and servants, how can I

expect the blessing?  But indeed this Shame was a bold villain; I could

scarcely shake him out of my company; yea, he would be haunting of me,

and continually whispering me in the ear, with some one or other of the

infirmities that attend religion.  But at last I told him, that it was

but in vain to attempt farther in this business; for those things that

he disdained, in those did I see most glory: and so at last I got past

this importunate one.  And when I had shaken him off, then I began to

sing,

"The trials that those men do meet withal,

That are obedient to the heavenly call,

Are manifold, and suited to the flesh,

And come, and come, and come again afresh;

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

Be taken, overcome, and cast away.

O let the pilgrims, let the pilgrims then,

Be vigilant, and quit themselves like men."

CHR. I am glad, my brother, that thou didst withstand this villain so

bravely; for of all, as thou sayest, I think he has the wrong name; for

he is so bold as to follow us in the streets, and to attempt to put us

to shame before all men; that is, to make us ashamed of that which is

good.  But if he was not himself audacious, he would never attempt to do

as he does.  But let us still resist him; for, notwithstanding all his

bravadoes, he promoteth the fool, and none else.  "The wise shall

inherit glory," said Solomon; "but shame shall be the promotion of

fools."  Prov.  3:35.

FAITH. I think we must cry to Him for help against Shame, that would

have us to be valiant for truth upon the earth.

CHR. You say true; but did you meet nobody else in that valley?

FAITH. No, not I; for I had sunshine all the rest of the way through

that, and also through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

CHR. 'Twas well for you; I am sure it fared far otherwise with me.  I

had for a long season, as soon almost as I entered into that valley, a

dreadful combat with that foul fiend Apollyon; yea, I thought verily he

would have killed me, especially when he got me down, and crushed me

under him, as if he would have crushed me to pieces; for as he threw me,

my sword flew out of my hand: nay, he told me he was sure of me; but I

cried to God, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my troubles.

Then I entered into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and had no light

for almost half the way through it.  I thought I should have been killed

there over and over; but at last day brake, and the sun rose, and I went

through that which was behind with far more ease and quiet.

Moreover, I saw in my dream, that as they went on, Faithful, as he

chanced to look on one side, saw a man whose name was Talkative, walking

at a distance beside them; for in this place there was room enough for

them all to walk.  He was a tall man, and something more comely at a

distance than at hand.  To this man Faithful addressed himself in this

manner.

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

TALK. I am going to the same place.

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

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

FAITH. Come on, then, and let us go together, and let us spend our time

in discoursing of things that are profitable.

TALK. To talk of things that are good, to me is very acceptable, with

you or with any other; and I am glad that I have met with those that

incline to so good a work; for, to speak the truth, there are but few

who care thus to spend their time as they are in their travels, but

choose much rather to be speaking of things to no profit; and this hath

been a trouble to me.

FAITH. That is, indeed, a thing to be lamented; for what thing so worthy

of the use of the tongue and mouth of men on earth, as are the things of

the God of heaven?

TALK. I like you wonderful well, for your saying is full of conviction;

and I will add, What thing is so pleasant, and what so profitable, as to

talk of the things of God?  What things so pleasant?  that is, if a man

hath any delight in things that are wonderful.  For instance, if a man

doth delight to talk of the history, or the mystery of things; or if a

man doth love to talk of miracles, wonders, or signs, where shall he

find things recorded so delightful, and so sweetly penned, as in the

holy Scripture?

FAITH. That is true; but to be profited by such things in our talk,

should be our chief design.

TALK. That's it that I said; for to talk of such things is most

profitable; for by so doing a man may get knowledge of many things; as

of the vanity of earthly things, and the benefit of things above.  Thus

in general; but more particularly, by this a man may learn the necessity

of the new birth, the insufficiency of our works, the need of Christ's

righteousness, etc.  Besides, by this a man may learn what it is to

repent, to believe, to pray, to suffer, or the like: by this, also, a

man may learn what are the great promises and consolations of the

Gospel, to his own comfort.  Farther, by this a man may learn to refute

false opinions, to vindicate the truth, and also to instruct the

ignorant.

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

TALK. Alas!  the want of this is the cause that so few understand the

need of faith, and the necessity of a work of grace in their soul, in

order to eternal life; but ignorantly live in the works of the law, by

which a man can by no means obtain the kingdom of heaven.

FAITH. But, by your leave, heavenly knowledge of these is the gift of

God; no man attaineth to them by human industry, or only by the talk of

them.

TALK. All this I know very well; for a man can receive nothing, except

it be given him from heaven: all is of grace, not of works.  I could

give you a hundred scriptures for the confirmation of this.

FAITH. Well, then, said Faithful, what is that one thing that we shall

at this time found our discourse upon?

TALK. What you will.  I will talk of things heavenly, or things earthly;

things moral, or things evangelical; things sacred, or things profane;

things past, or things to come; things foreign, or things at home;

things more essential, or things circumstantial: provided that all be

done to our profit.

FAITH. 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.

CHR. At this Christian modestly smiled, and said, This man, with whom

you are so taken, will beguile with this tongue of his, twenty of them

that know him not.

FAITH. Do you know him, then?

CHR. Know him?  Yes, better than he knows himself.

FAITH. Pray what is he?

CHR. His name is Talkative: he dwelleth in our town.  I wonder that you

should be a stranger to him, only I consider that our town is large.

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

CHR. He is the son of one Say-well.  He dwelt in Prating-Row; and he is

known to all that are acquainted with him by the name of Talkative of

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

fellow.

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

CHR. That is, to them that have not a thorough acquaintance with him,

for he is best abroad; near home he is ugly enough.  Your saying that he

is a pretty man, brings to my mind what I have observed in the work of a

painter, whose pictures show best at a distance; but very near, more

unpleasing.

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

CHR. God forbid that I should jest (though I smiled) in this matter, or

that I should accuse any falsely.  I will give you a further discovery

of him.  This man is for any company, and for any talk; as he talketh

now with you, so will he talk when he is on the ale-bench; and the more

drink he hath in his crown, the more of these things he hath in his

mouth.  Religion hath no place in his heart, or house, or conversation;

all he hath lieth in his tongue, and his religion is to make a noise

therewith.

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

CHR. Deceived!  you may be sure of it.  Remember the proverb, "They say,

and do not;" but the kingdom of God is not in word, but in power.  Matt.

23:3; 1 Cor.  4:20.  He talketh of prayer, of repentance, of faith, and

of the new birth; but he knows but only to talk of them.  I have been in

his family, and have observed him both at home and abroad; and I know

what I say of him is the truth.  His house is as empty of religion as

the white of an egg is of savor.  There is there neither prayer, nor

sign of repentance for sin; yea, the brute, in his kind, serves God far

better than he.  He is the very stain, reproach, and shame of religion

to all that know him, Rom.  2:24,25; it can hardly have a good word in

all that end of the town where he dwells, through him.  Thus say the

common people that know him, "A saint abroad, and a devil at home."  His

poor family finds it so; he is such a churl, such a railer at, and so

unreasonable with his servants, that they neither know how to do for or

speak to him.  Men that have any dealings with him say, It is better to

deal with a Turk than with him, for fairer dealings they shall have at

their hands.  This Talkative (if it be possible) will go beyond them,

defraud, beguile, and overreach them.  Besides, he brings up his sons to

follow his steps; and if he finds in any of them a foolish timorousness,

(for so he calls the first appearance of a tender conscience,) he calls

them fools and blockheads, and by no means will employ them in much, or

speak to their commendation before others.  For my part, I am of opinion

that he has, by his wicked life, caused many to stumble and fall; and

will be, if God prevents not, the ruin of many more.

FAITH. Well, my brother, I am bound to believe you, not only because you

say you know him, but also because, like a Christian, you make your

reports of men.  For I cannot think that you speak these things of ill-

will, but because it is even so as you say.

CHR. Had I known him no more than you, I might, perhaps, have thought of

him as at the first you did; yea, had I received this report at their

hands only that are enemies to religion, I should have thought it had

been a slander-a lot that often falls from bad men's mouths upon good

men's names and professions.  But all these things, yea, and a great

many more as bad, of my own knowledge, I can prove him guilty of.

Besides, good men are ashamed of him; they can neither call him brother

nor friend; the very naming of him among them makes them blush, if they

know him.

FAITH. Well, I see that saying and doing are two things, and hereafter I

shall better observe this distinction.

CHR. They are two things indeed, and are as diverse as are the soul and

the body; for, as the body without the soul is but a dead carcass, so

saying, if it be alone, is but a dead carcass also.  The soul of

religion is the practical part.  "Pure religion and undefiled before God

and the Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their

affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world."  James 1:27;

see also verses 22-26.  This, Talkative is not aware of; he thinks that

hearing and saying will make a good Christian; and thus he deceiveth his

own soul.  Hearing is but as the sowing of the seed; talking is not

sufficient to prove that fruit is indeed in the heart and life.  And let

us assure ourselves, that at the day of doom men shall be judged

according to their fruits.  Matt.  13:23.  It will not be said then, Did

you believe?  but, Were you doers, or talkers only?  and accordingly

shall they be judged.  The end of the world is compared to our harvest,

Matt.  13:30, and you know men at harvest regard nothing but fruit.  Not

that any thing can be accepted that is not of faith; but I speak this to

show you how insignificant the profession of Talkative will be at that

day.

FAITH. This brings to my mind that of Moses, by which he describeth the

beast that is clean.  Lev.  11; Deut.  14.  He is such an one that

parteth the hoof, and cheweth the cud; not that parteth the hoof only,

or that cheweth the cud only.  The hare cheweth the cud, but yet is

unclean, because he parteth not the hoof.  And this truly resembleth

Talkative: he cheweth the cud, he seeketh knowledge; he cheweth upon the

word, but he divideth not the hoof.  He parteth not with the way of

sinners; but, as the hare, he retaineth the foot of the dog or bear, and

therefore he is unclean.

CHR. You have spoken, for aught I know, the true gospel sense of these

texts.  And I will add another thing: Paul calleth some men, yea, and

those great talkers too, sounding brass, and tinkling cymbals, 1 Cor.

13:1, 3; that is, as he expounds them in another place, things without

life giving sound.  1 Cor.  14:7.  Things without life; that is, without

the true faith and grace of the gospel; and consequently, things that

shall never be placed in the kingdom of heaven among those that are the

children of life; though their sound, by their talk, be as if it were

the tongue or voice of an angel.

FAITH. Well, I was not so fond of his company at first, but I am as sick

of it now.  What shall we do to be rid of him?

CHR. Take my advice, and do as I bid you, and you shall find that he

will soon be sick of your company too, except God shall touch his heart,

and turn it.

FAITH. What would you have me to do?

CHR. Why, go to him, and enter into some serious discourse about the

power of religion; and ask him plainly, (when he has approved of it, for

that he will,) whether this thing be set up in his heart, house, or

conversation.

FAITH. Then Faithful stepped forward again, and said to Talkative, Come,

what cheer?  How is it now?

TALK. Thank you, well: I thought we should have had a great deal of talk

by this time.

FAITH. Well, if you will, we will fall to it now; and since you left it

with me to state the question, let it be this: How doth the saving grace

of God discover itself when it is in the heart of man?

TALK. I perceive, then, that our talk must be about the power of things.

Well, it is a very good question, and I shall be willing to answer you.

And take my answer in brief, thus: First, where the grace of God is in

the heart, it causeth there a great outcry against sin.  Secondly-

FAITH. Nay, hold; let us consider of one at once.  I think you should

rather say, it shows itself by inclining the soul to abhor its sin.

TALK. Why, what difference is there between crying out against, and

abhorring of sin?

FAITH. Oh!  a great deal.  A man may cry out against sin, of policy; but

he cannot abhor it but by virtue of a godly antipathy against it.  I

have heard many cry out against sin in the pulpit, who yet can abide it

well enough in the heart, house, and conversation.  Gen.  39:15.

Joseph's mistress cried out with a loud voice, as if she had been very

holy; but she would willingly, notwithstanding that, have committed

uncleanness with him.  Some cry out against sin, even as the mother

cries out against her child in her lap, when she calleth it slut and

naughty girl, and then falls to hugging and kissing it.

TALK. You lie at the catch, I perceive.

FAITH. No, not I; I am only for setting things right.  But what is the

second thing whereby you would prove a discovery of a work of grace in

the heart?

TALK. Great knowledge of gospel mysteries.

FAITH. This sign should have been first: but, first or last, it is also

false; for knowledge, great knowledge, may be obtained in the mysteries

of the Gospel, and yet no work of grace in the soul.  Yea, if a man have

all knowledge, he may yet be nothing, and so, consequently, be no child

of God.  1 Cor.  13:2.  When Christ said, "Do you know all these

things?"  and the disciples answered, Yes, he added, "Blessed are ye if

ye do them."  He doth not lay the blessing in the knowing of them, but

in the doing of them.  For there is a knowledge that is not attended

with doing: "He that knoweth his Master's will, and doeth it not."  A

man may know like an angel, and yet be no Christian: therefore your sign

of it is not true.  Indeed, to know is a thing that pleaseth talkers and

boasters; but to do is that which pleaseth God.  Not that the heart can

be good without knowledge, for without that the heart is naught.  There

are, therefore, two sorts of knowledge, knowledge that resteth in the

bare speculation of things, and knowledge that is accompanied with the

grace of faith and love, which puts a man upon doing even the will of

God from the heart: the first of these will serve the talker; but

without the other, the true Christian is not content.  "Give me

understanding, and I shall keep thy law; yea, I shall observe it with my

whole heart."  Psa.  119:34.

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

FAITH. Well, if you please, propound another sign how this work of grace

discovereth itself where it is.

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

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

TALK. You may use your liberty.

FAITH. A work of grace in the soul discovereth itself, either to him

that hath it, or to standers-by.

To him that hath it, thus: It gives him conviction of sin, especially

the defilement of his nature, and the sin of unbelief, for the sake of

which he is sure to be damned, if he findeth not mercy at God's hand, by

faith in Jesus Christ.  This sight and sense of things worketh in him

sorrow and shame for sin.  Psa.  38:18; Jer.  31:19; John 16:8; Rom.

7:24; Mark 16:16; Gal.  2:16; Rev.  1:6.  He findeth, moreover, revealed

in him the Saviour of the world, and the absolute necessity of closing

with him for life; at the which he findeth hungerings and thirstings

after him; to which hungerings, etc., the promise is made.  Now,

according to the strength or weakness of his faith in his Saviour, so is

his joy and peace, so is his love to holiness, so are his desires to

know him more, and also to serve him in this world.  But though, I say,

it discovereth itself thus unto him, yet it is but seldom that he is

able to conclude that this is a work of grace; because his corruptions

now, and his abused reason, make his mind to misjudge in this matter:

therefore in him that hath this work there is required a very sound

judgment, before he can with steadiness conclude that this is a work of

grace.  John 16:9; Gal.  2:15,16; Acts 4:12; Matt.  5:6; Rev.  21:6.

To others it is thus discovered:

1.  By an experimental confession of his faith in Christ.  2.  By a life

answerable to that confession; to wit, a life of holiness-heart-

holiness, family-holiness, (if he hath a family,) and by conversation-

holiness in the world; which in the general teacheth him inwardly to

abhor his sin, and himself for that, in secret; to suppress it in his

family, and to promote holiness in the world: not by talk only, as a

hypocrite or talkative person may do, but by a practical subjection in

faith and love to the power of the word.  Job 42:5,6; Psa.  50:23; Ezek.

20:43; Matt.  5:8; John 14:15; Rom.  10:10; Ezek.  36:25; Phil.  1:27;

3:17-20.  And now, sir, as to this brief description of the work of

grace, and also the discovery of it, if you have aught to object,

object; if not, then give me leave to propound to you a second question.

TALK. Nay, my part is not now to object, but to hear; let me, therefore,

have your second question.

FAITH. It is this: Do you experience this first part of the description

of it; and doth your life and conversation testify the same?  Or

standeth your religion in word or tongue, and not in deed and truth?

Pray, if you incline to answer me in this, say no more than you know the

God above will say Amen to, and also nothing but what your conscience

can justify you in; for not he that commendeth himself is approved, but

whom the Lord commendeth.  Besides, to say I am thus and thus, when my

conversation, and all my neighbors, tell me I lie, is great wickedness.

Then Talkative at first began to blush; but, recovering himself, thus he

replied: You come now to experience, to conscience, and to God; and to

appeal to him for justification of what is spoken.  This kind of

discourse I did not expect; nor am I disposed to give an answer to such

questions, because I count not myself bound thereto, unless you take

upon you to be a catechiser; and though you should so do, yet I may

refuse to make you my judge.  But I pray, will you tell me why you ask

me such questions?

FAITH. Because I saw you forward to talk, and because I knew not that

you had aught else but notion.  Besides, to tell you all the truth, I

have heard of you that you are a man whose religion lies in talk, and

that your conversation gives this your mouth-profession the lie.  They

say you are a spot among Christians, and that religion fareth the worse

for your ungodly conversation; that some have already stumbled at your

wicked ways, and that more are in danger of being destroyed thereby:

your religion, and an ale-house, and covetousness, and uncleanness, and

swearing, and lying, and vain company-keeping, etc., will stand

together.  The proverb is true of you which is said of a harlot, to wit,

"That she is a shame to all women:" so are you a shame to all

professors.

TALK. Since you are so ready to take up reports, and to judge so rashly

as you do, I cannot but conclude you are some peevish or melancholy man,

not fit to be discoursed with; and so adieu.

Then up came Christian, and said to his brother, I told you how it would

happen; your words and his lusts could not agree.  He had rather leave

your company than reform his life.  But he is gone, as I said: let him

go; the loss is no man's but his own.  He has saved us the trouble of

going from him; for he continuing (as I suppose he will do) as he is,

would have been but a blot in our company: besides, the apostle says,

"From such withdraw thyself."

FAITH. But I am glad we had this little discourse with him; it may

happen that he will think of it again: however, I have dealt plainly

with him, and so am clear of his blood if he perisheth.

CHR. You did well to talk so plainly to him as you did.  There is but

little of this faithful dealing with men now-a-days, and that makes

religion to stink so in the nostrils of many as it doth; for they are

these talkative fools, whose religion is only in word, and who are

debauched and vain in their conversation, that (being so much admitted

into the fellowship of the godly) do puzzle the world, blemish

Christianity, and grieve the sincere.  I wish that all men would deal

with such as you have done; then should they either be made more

conformable to religion, or the company of saints would be too hot for

them.  Then did Faithful say,

"How Talkative at first lifts up his plumes!

How bravely doth he speak!  How he presumes

To drive down all before him!  But so soon

As Faithful talks of heart-work, like the moon

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

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

Thus they went on, talking of what they had seen by the way, and so made

that way easy, which would otherwise no doubt have been tedious to them,

for now they went through a wilderness.

THE SIXTH STAGE.

Now when they were got almost quite out of this wilderness, Faithful

chanced to cast his eye back, and espied one coming after them, and he

knew him.  Oh!  said Faithful to his brother, who comes yonder?  Then

Christian looked, and said, It is my good friend Evangelist.  Aye, and

my good friend too, said Faithful, for 'twas he that set me on the way

to the gate.  Now was Evangelist come up unto them, and thus saluted

them.

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

CHR. Welcome, welcome, my good Evangelist: the sight of thy countenance

brings to my remembrance thy ancient kindness and unwearied labors for

my eternal good.

FAITH. And a thousand times welcome, said good Faithful, thy company, O

sweet Evangelist; how desirable is it to us poor pilgrims!

EVAN. Then said Evangelist, How hath it fared with you, my friends,

since the time of our last parting?  What have you met with, and how

have you behaved yourselves?

Then Christian and Faithful told him of all things that had happened to

them in the way; and how, and with what difficulty, they had arrived to

that place.

Right glad am I, said Evangelist, not that you have met with trials, but

that you have been victors, and for that you have, notwithstanding many

weaknesses, continued in the way to this very day.

I say, right glad am I of this thing, and that for mine own sake and

yours: I have sowed, and you have reaped; and the day is coming, when

"both he that soweth, and they that reap, shall rejoice together," John

4:36; that is, if you hold out: "for in due season ye shall reap, if ye

faint not."  Gal.  6:9.  The crown is before you, and it is an

incorruptible one; "so run that ye may obtain it."  1 Cor.  9:24-27.

Some there be that set out for this crown, and after they have gone far

for it, another comes in and takes it from them: "hold fast, therefore,

that you have; let no man take your crown."  Rev.  3:11.  You are not

yet out of the gunshot of the devil; "you have not resisted unto blood,

striving against sin."  Let the kingdom be always before you, and

believe steadfastly concerning the things that are invisible.  Let

nothing that is on this side the other world get within you.  And, above

all, look well to your own hearts and to the lusts thereof; for they are

"deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked."  Set your faces

like a flint; you have all power in heaven and earth on your side.

CHR. Then Christian thanked him for his exhortations; but told him

withal, that they would have him speak farther to them for their help

the rest of the way; and the rather, for that they well knew that he was

a prophet, and could tell them of things that might happen unto them,

and also how they might resist and overcome them.  To which request

Faithful also consented.  So Evangelist began as followeth.

EVAN. My sons, you have heard in the word of the truth of the Gospel,

that you must "through many tribulations enter into the kingdom of

heaven;" and again, that "in every city, bonds and afflictions abide

you;" and therefore you cannot expect that you should go long on your

pilgrimage without them, in some sort or other.  You have found

something of the truth of these testimonies upon you already, and more

will immediately follow: for now, as you see, you are almost out of this

wilderness, and therefore you will soon come into a town that you will

by and by see before you; and in that town you will be hardly beset with

enemies, who will strain hard but they will kill you; and be you sure

that one or both of you must seal the testimony which you hold, with

blood; but "be you faithful unto death, and the King will give you a

crown of life."  He that shall die there, although his death will be

unnatural, and his pain, perhaps, great, he will yet have the better of

his fellow; not only because he will be arrived at the Celestial City

soonest, but because he will escape many miseries that the other will

meet with in the rest of his journey.  But when you are come to the

town, and shall find fulfilled what I have here related, then remember

your friend, and quit yourselves like men, and "commit the keeping of

your souls to God in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator."

Then I saw in my dream, that when they were got out of the wilderness,

they presently saw a town before them, and the name of that town is

Vanity; and at the town there is a fair kept, called Vanity Fair.  It is

kept all the year long.  It beareth the name of Vanity Fair, because the

town where it is kept is lighter than vanity, Psa.  62:9; and also

because all that is there sold, or that cometh thither, is vanity; as is

the saying of the wise, "All that cometh is vanity."  Eccl.  11:8; see

also 1:2-14; 2:11-17; Isa.  40:17.

This fair is no new-erected business but a thing of ancient standing.  I

will show you the original of it.

Almost five thousand years ago there were pilgrims walking to the

Celestial City, as these two honest persons are: and Beelzebub,

Apollyon, and Legion, with their companions, perceiving by the path that

the pilgrims made, that their way to the city lay through this town of

Vanity, they contrived here to set up a fair; a fair wherein should be

sold all sorts of vanity, and that it should last all the year long.

Therefore, at this fair are all such merchandise sold as houses, lands,

trades, places, honors, preferments, titles, countries, kingdoms, lusts,

pleasures; and delights of all sorts, as harlots, wives, husbands,

children, masters, servants, lives, blood, bodies, souls, silver, gold,

pearls, precious stones, and what not.

And moreover, at this fair there is at all times to be seen jugglings,

cheats, games, plays, fools, apes, knaves, and rogues, and that of every

kind.

Here are to be seen, too, and that for nothing, thefts, murders,

adulteries, false-swearers, and that of a blood-red color.

And, as in other fairs of less moment, there are the several rows and

streets under their proper names, where such and such wares are vended;

so here, likewise, you have the proper places, rows, streets, (namely,

countries and kingdoms,) where the wares of this fair are soonest to be

found.  Here is the Britain Row, the French Row, the Italian Row, the

Spanish Row, the German Row, where several sorts of vanities are to be

sold.  But, as in other fairs, some one commodity is as the chief of all

the fair; so the ware of Rome and her merchandise is greatly promoted in

this fair; only our English nation, with some others, have taken a

dislike thereat.

Now, as I said, the way to the Celestial City lies just through this

town, where this lusty fair is kept; and he that will go to the city,

and yet not go through this town, "must needs go out of the world."  1

Cor.  4:10.  The Prince of princes himself, when here, went through this

town to his own country, and that upon a fair-day too; yea, and, as I

think, it was Beelzebub, the chief lord of this fair, that invited him

to buy of his vanities, yea, would have made him lord of the fair, would

he but have done him reverence as he went through the town.  Yea,

because he was such a person of honor, Beelzebub had him from street to

street, and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a little time,

that he might, if possible, allure that blessed One to cheapen and buy

some of his vanities; but he had no mind to the merchandise, and

therefore left the town, without laying out so much as one farthing upon

these vanities.  Matt.  4:8,9; Luke 4:5-7.  This fair, therefore, is an

ancient thing, of long standing, and a very great fair.

Now, these pilgrims, as I said, must needs go through this fair.  Well,

so they did; but behold, even as they entered into the fair, all the

people in the fair were moved; and the town itself, as it were, in a

hubbub about them, and that for several reasons: for,

First, The Pilgrims were clothed with such kind of raiment as was

diverse from the raiment of any that traded in that fair.  The people,

therefore, of the fair made a great gazing upon them: some said they

were fools; 1 Cor.  4:9,10; some, they were bedlams; and some, they were

outlandish men.

Secondly, And as they wondered at their apparel, so they did likewise at

their speech; for few could understand what they said.  They naturally

spoke the language of Canaan; but they that kept the fair were the men

of this world: so that from one end of the fair to the other, they

seemed barbarians each to the other.  1 Cor.  2:7,8.

Thirdly, But that which did not a little amuse the merchandisers was,

that these pilgrims set very light by all their wares.  They cared not

so much as to look upon them; and if they called upon them to buy, they

would put their fingers in their ears, and cry, "Turn away mine eyes

from beholding vanity," Psa.  119:37, and look upward, signifying that

their trade and traffic was in heaven.  Phil.  3: 20,21.

One chanced, mockingly, beholding the carriage of the men, to say unto

them, "What will ye buy?"  But they, looking gravely upon him, said, "We

buy the truth."  Prov.  23:23.  At that there was an occasion taken to

despise the men the more; some mocking, some taunting, some speaking

reproachfully, and some calling upon others to smite them.  At last,

things came to an hubbub and great stir in the fair, insomuch that all

order was confounded.  Now was word presently brought to the great one

of the fair, who quickly came down, and deputed some of his most trusty

friends to take those men into examination about whom the fair was

almost overturned.  So the men were brought to examination; and they

that sat upon them asked them whence they came, whither they went, and

what they did there in such an unusual garb.  The men told them they

were pilgrims and strangers in the world, and that they were going to

their own country, which was the heavenly Jerusalem, Heb.  11:13-16; and

that they had given no occasion to the men of the town, nor yet to the

merchandisrs, thus to abuse them, and to let them in their journey,

except it was for that, when one asked them what they would buy, they

said they would buy the truth.  But they that were appointed to examine

them did not believe them to be any other than bedlams and mad, or else

such as came to put all things into a confusion in the fair.  Therefore

they took them and beat them, and besmeared them with dirt, and then put

them into the cage, that they might be made a spectacle to all the men

of the fair.  There, therefore, they lay for some time, and were made

the objects of any man's sport, or malice, or revenge; the great one of

the fair laughing still at all that befell them.  But the men being

patient, and "not rendering railing for railing, but contrariwise

blessing," and giving good words for bad, and kindness for injuries

done, some men in the fair, that were more observing and less prejudiced

than the rest, began to check and blame the baser sort for their

continual abuses done by them to the men.  They, therefore, in an angry

manner let fly at them again, counting them as bad as the men in the

cage, and telling them that they seemed confederates, and should be made

partakers of their misfortunes.  The others replied that, for aught they

could see, the men were quiet and sober, and intended nobody any harm;

and that there were many that traded in their fair that were more worthy

to be put into the cage, yea, and pillory too, than were the men that

they had abused.  Thus, after divers words had passed on both sides,

(the men behaving themselves all the while very wisely and soberly

before them,) they fell to some blows among themselves, and did harm one

to another.  Then were these two poor men brought before their examiners

again, and were charged as being guilty of the late hubbub that had been

in the fair.  So they beat them pitifully, and hanged irons upon them,

and led them in chains up and down the fair, for an example and terror

to others, lest any should speak in their behalf, or join themselves

unto them.  But Christian and Faithful behaved themselves yet more

wisely, and received the ignominy and shame that was cast upon them with

so much meekness and patience, that it won to their side (though but few

in comparison of the rest) several of the men in the fair.  This put the

other party yet into a greater rage, insomuch that they concluded the

death of these two men.  Wherefore they threatened that neither cage nor

irons should serve their turn, but that they should die for the abuse

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

Then were they remanded to the cage again, until further order should be

taken with them.  So they put them in, and made their feet fast in the

stocks.

Here, also, they called again to mind what they had heard from their

faithful friend Evangelist, and were the more confirmed in their way and

sufferings by what he told them would happen to them.  They also now

comforted each other, that whose lot it was to suffer, even he should

have the best of it: therefore each man secretly wished that he might

have that preferment.  But committing themselves to the all-wise

disposal of Him that ruleth all things, with much content they abode in

the condition in which they were, until they should be otherwise

disposed of.

Then a convenient time being appointed, they brought them forth to their

trial, in order to their condemnation.  When the time was come, they

were brought before their enemies and arraigned.  The judge's name was

Lord Hate-good; their indictment was one and the same in substance,

though somewhat varying in form; the contents whereof was this: "That

they were enemies to, and disturbers of, the trade; that they had made

commotions and divisions in the town, and had won a party to their own

most dangerous opinions, in contempt of the law of their prince."

Then Faithful began to answer, that he had only set himself against that

which had set itself against Him that is higher than the highest.  And,

said he, as for disturbance, I make none, being myself a man of peace:

the parties that were won to us, were won by beholding our truth and

innocence, and they are only turned from the worse to the better.  And

as to the king you talk of, since he is Beelzebub, the enemy of our

Lord, I defy him and all his angels.

Then proclamation was made, that they that had ought to say for their

lord the king against the prisoner at the bar, should forthwith appear,

and give in their evidence.  So there came in three witnesses, to wit,

Envy, Superstition, and Pickthank.  They were then asked if they knew

the prisoner at the bar; and what they had to say for their lord the

king against him.

Then stood forth Envy, and said to this effect: My lord, I have known

this man a long time, and will attest upon my oath before this honorable

bench, that he is-

JUDGE. Hold; give him his oath.

So they sware him.  Then he said, My lord, this man, notwithstanding his

plausible name, is one of the vilest men in our country; he neither

regardeth prince nor people, law nor custom, but doeth all that he can

to possess all men with certain of his disloyal notions, which he in the

general calls principles of faith and holiness.  And in particular, I

heard him once myself affirm, that Christianity and the customs of our

town of Vanity were diametrically opposite, and could not be reconciled.

By which saying, my lord, he doth at once not only condemn all our

laudable doings, but us in the doing of them.

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

ENVY. My lord, I could say much more, only I would not be tedious to the

court.  Yet if need be, when the other gentlemen have given in their

evidence, rather than any thing shall be wanting that will dispatch him,

I will enlarge my testimony against him.  So he was bid to stand by.

Then they called Superstition, and bid him look upon the prisoner.  They

also asked, what he could say for their lord the king against him.  Then

they sware him; so he began.

SUPER. My lord, I have no great acquaintance with this man, nor do I

desire to have further knowledge of him.  However, this I know, that he

is a very pestilent fellow, from some discourse that I had with him the

other day, in this town; for then, talking with him, I heard him say,

that our religion was naught, and such by which a man could by no means

please God.  Which saying of his, my lord, your lordship very well knows

what necessarily thence will follow, to wit, that we still do worship in

vain, are yet in our sins, and finally shall be damned: and this is that

which I have to say.

Then was Pickthank sworn, and bid say what he knew in the behalf of

their lord the king against the prisoner at the bar.

PICK. My lord, and you gentlemen all, this fellow I have known of a long

time, and have heard him speak things that ought not to be spoken; for

he hath railed on our noble prince Beelzebub, and hath spoken

contemptibly of his honorable friends, whose names are, the Lord Old

Man, the Lord Carnal Delight, the Lord Luxurious, the Lord Desire of

Vain Glory, my old Lord Lechery, Sir Having Greedy, with all the rest of

our nobility: and he hath said, moreover, that if all men were of his

mind, if possible, there is not one of these noblemen should have any

longer a being in this town.  Besides, he hath not been afraid to rail

on you, my lord, who are now appointed to be his judge, calling you an

ungodly villain, with many other such like vilifying terms, with which

he hath bespattered most of the gentry of our town.

When this Pickthank had told his tale, the judge directed his speech to

the prisoner at the bar, saying, Thou runagate, heretic, and traitor,

hast thou heard what these honest gentlemen have witnessed against thee?

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

JUDGE. Sirrah, sirrah, thou deservest to live no longer, but to be slain

immediately upon the place; yet, that all men may see our gentleness

towards thee, let us hear what thou, vile runagate, hast to say.

FAITH. 1.  I say, then, in answer to what Mr.  Envy hath spoken, I never

said aught but this, that what rule, or laws, or custom, or people, were

flat against the word of God, are diametrically opposite to

Christianity.  If I have said amiss in this, convince me of my error,

and I am ready here before you to make my recantation.

2.  As to the second, to wit, Mr.  Superstition, and his charge against

me, I said only this, that in the worship of God there is required a

divine faith; but there can be no divine faith without a divine

revelation of the will of God.  Therefore, whatever is thrust into the

worship of God that is not agreeable to divine revelation, cannot be

done but by a human faith; which faith will not be profitable to eternal

life.

3.  As to what Mr.  Pickthank hath said, I say, (avoiding terms, as that

I am said to rail, and the like,) that the prince of this town, with all

the rabblement, his attendants, by this gentleman named, are more fit

for a being in hell than in this town and country.  And so the Lord have

mercy upon me.

Then the judge called to the jury, (who all this while stood by to hear

and observe,) Gentlemen of the jury, you see this man about whom so

great an uproar hath been made in this town; you have also heard what

these worthy gentlemen have witnessed against him; also, you have heard

his reply and confession: it lieth now in your breasts to hang him, or

save his life; but yet I think meet to instruct you in our law.

There was an act made in the days of Pharaoh the Great, servant to our

prince, that, lest those of a contrary religion should multiply and grow

too strong for him, their males should be thrown into the river.  Exod.

1:22.  There was also an act made in the days of Nebuchadnezzar the

Great, another of his servants, that whoever would not fall down and

worship his golden image, should be thrown into a fiery furnace.  Dan.

3:6.  There was also an act made in the days of Darius, that whoso for

some time called upon any god but him, should be cast into the lion's

den.  Dan.  6:7.  Now, the substance of these laws this rebel has

broken, not only in thought, (which is not to be borne,) but also in

word and deed; which must, therefore, needs be intolerable.

For that of Pharaoh, his law was made upon a supposition to prevent

mischief, no crime being yet apparent; but here is a crime apparent.

For the second and third, you see he disputeth against our religion; and

for the treason that he hath already confessed, he deserveth to die the

death.

Then went the jury out, whose names were Mr.  Blindman, Mr.  No-good,

Mr.  Malice, Mr.  Love-lust, Mr.  Live-loose, Mr.  Heady, Mr.  High-

mind, Mr.  Enmity, Mr.  Liar, Mr.  Cruelty, Mr.  Hate-light, and Mr.

Implacable; who every one gave in his private verdict against him among

themselves, and afterwards unanimously concluded to bring him in guilty

before the judge.  And first among themselves, Mr.  Blindman, the

foreman, said, I see clearly that this man is a heretic.  Then said Mr.

No-good, Away with such a fellow from the earth.  Aye, said Mr.  Malice,

for I hate the very looks of him.  Then said Mr.  Love-lust, I could

never endure him.  Nor I, said Mr.  Live-loose, for he would always be

condemning my way.  Hang him, hang him, said Mr.  Heady.  A sorry scrub,

said Mr.  High-mind.  My heart riseth against him, said Mr.  Enmity.  He

is a rogue, said Mr.  Liar.  Hanging is too good for him, said Mr.

Cruelty.  Let us dispatch him out of the way, said Mr.  Hate-light.

Then said Mr.  Implacable, Might I have all the world given me, I could

not be reconciled to him; therefore let us forthwith bring him in guilty

of death.

And so they did; therefore he was presently condemned to be had from the

place where he was, to the place from whence he came, and there to be

put to the most cruel death that could be invented.

They therefore brought him out, to do with him according to their law;

and first they scourged him, then they buffeted him, then they lanced

his flesh with knives; after that, they stoned him with stones, then

pricked him with their swords; and last of all, they burned him to ashes

at the stake.  Thus came Faithful to his end.

Now I saw, that there stood behind the multitude a chariot and a couple

of horses waiting for Faithful, who (so soon as his adversaries had

dispatched him) was taken up into it, and straightway was carried up

through the clouds with sound of trumpet, the nearest way to the

celestial gate.  But as for Christian, he had some respite, and was

remanded back to prison: so he there remained for a space.  But he who

overrules all things, having the power of their rage in his own hand, so

wrought it about, that Christian for that time escaped them, and went

his way.

And as he went, he sang, saying,

"Well, Faithful, thou hast faithfully profest

Unto thy Lord, with whom thou shalt be blest,

When faithless ones, with all their vain delights,

Are crying out under their hellish plights:

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

For though they killed thee, thou art yet alive."

THE SEVENTH STAGE.

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

was one whose name was Hopeful, (being so made by the beholding of

Christian and Faithful in their words and behavior, in their sufferings

at the fair,) who joined himself unto him, and entering into a brotherly

covenant, told him that he would be his companion.  Thus one died to

bear testimony to the truth, and another rises out of his ashes to be a

companion with Christian in his pilgrimage.  This Hopeful also told

Christian, that there were many more of the men in the fair that would

take their time, and follow after.

So I saw, that quickly after they were got out of the fair, they

overtook one that was going before them, whose name was By-ends; so they

said to him, What countryman, sir?  and how far go you this way?  He

told them, that he came from the town of Fair-speech, and he was going

to the Celestial City; but told them not his name.

From Fair-speech?  said Christian; is there any good that lives there?

Prov.  26:25.

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

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

BY. I am a stranger to you, and you to me: if you be going this way, I

shall be glad of your company; if not, I must be content.

CHR. This town of Fair-speech, said Christian, I have heard of; and, as

I remember, they say it's a wealthy place.

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

there.

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

BY. Almost the whole town; and in particular my Lord Turn-about, my Lord

Time-server, my Lord Fair-speech, from whose ancestors that town first

took its name; also, Mr.  Smooth-man, Mr.  Facing-both-ways, Mr.  Any-

thing; and the parson of our parish, Mr.  Two-tongues, was my mother's

own brother, by father's side; and, to tell you the truth, I am become a

gentleman of good quality; yet my great-grandfather was but a waterman,

looking one way and rowing another, and I got most of my estate by the

same occupation.

CHR. Are you a married man.

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

virtuous woman; she was my Lady Feigning's daughter; therefore she came

of a very honorable family, and is arrived to such a pitch of breeding,

that she knows how to carry it to all, even to prince and peasant.  'Tis

true, we somewhat differ in religion from those of the stricter sort,

yet but in two small points: First, we never strive against wind and

tide.  Secondly, we are always most zealous when religion goes in his

silver slippers; we love much to walk with him in the street, if the sun

shines and the people applaud him.

Then Christian stepped a little aside to his fellow Hopeful, saying, it

runs in my mind that this is one By-ends, of Fair-speech; and if it be

he, we have as very a knave in our company as dwelleth in all these

parts.  Then said Hopeful, Ask him; methinks he should not be ashamed of

his name.  So Christian came up with him again, and said, Sir, you talk

as if you knew something more than all the world doth; and, if I take

not my mark amiss, I deem I have half a guess of you.  Is not your name

Mr.  By-ends of Fair-speech?

BY. This is not my name, but indeed it is a nickname that is given me by

some that cannot abide me, and I must be content to bear it as a

reproach, as other good men have borne theirs before me.

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

BY. Never, never!  The worst that ever I did to give them an occasion to

give me this name was, that I had always the luck to jump in my judgment

with the present way of the times, whatever it was, and my chance was to

get thereby: but if things are thus cast upon me, let me count them a

blessing; but let not the malicious load me therefore with reproach.

CHR. I thought, indeed, that you were the man that I heard of; and to

tell you what I think, I fear this name belongs to you more properly

than you are willing we should think it doth.

BY. Well if you will thus imagine, I cannot help it; you shall find me a

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

CHR. If you will go with us, you must go against wind and tide; the

which, I perceive, is against your opinion: you must also own Religion

in his rags, as well as when in his silver slippers; and stand by him,

too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with

applause.

BY. You must not impose, nor lord it over my faith; leave me to my

liberty, and let me go with you.

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

Then said By-ends, I shall never desert my old principles, since they

are harmless and profitable.  If I may not go with you, I must do as I

did before you overtook me, even go by myself, until some overtake me

that will be glad of my company.

Now I saw in my dream, that Christian and Hopeful forsook him, and kept

their distance before him; but one of them, looking back, saw three men

following Mr.  By-ends; and, behold, as they came up with him, he made

them a very low congee; and they also gave him a compliment.  The men's

names were, Mr.  Hold-the-world, Mr.  Money-love, and Mr.  Save-all, men

that Mr.  By-ends had formerly been acquainted with; for in their

minority they were schoolfellows, and taught by one Mr.  Gripeman, a

schoolmaster in Lovegain, which is a market-town in the county of

Coveting, in the North.  This Schoolmaster taught them the art of

getting, either by violence, cozenage, flattering, lying, or by putting

on a guise of religion; and these four gentlemen had attained much of

the art of their master, so that they could each of them have kept such

a school themselves.

Well, when they had, as I said, thus saluted each other, Mr.  Money-love

said to Mr.  By-ends, Who are they upon the road before us?  For

Christian and Hopeful were yet within view.

BY. They are a couple of far country-men, that, after their mode, are

going on pilgrimage.

MONEY. Alas!  why did they not stay, that we might have had their good

company?  for they, and we, and you, sir, I hope, are all going on

pilgrimage.

BY. We are so, indeed; but the men before us are so rigid, and love so

much their own notions, and do also so lightly esteem the opinions of

others, that let a man be ever so godly, yet if he jumps not with them

in all things, they thrust him quite out of their company.

SAVE. That is bad; but we read of some that are righteous overmuch, and

such men's rigidness prevails with them to judge and condemn all but

themselves.  But I pray, what, and how many, were the things wherein you

differed?

BY. Why, they, after their headstrong manner, conclude that it is their

duty to rush on their journey all weathers, and I am for waiting for

wind and tide.  They are for hazarding all for God at a clap; and I am

for taking all advantages to secure my life and estate.  They are for

holding their notions, though all other men be against them; but I am

for religion in what, and so far as the times and my safety will bear

it.  They are for religion when in rags and contempt; but I am for him

when he walks in his silver slippers, in the sunshine, and with

applause.

HOLD-THE-WORLD. Aye, and hold you there still, good Mr.  By-ends; for,

for my part, I can count him but a fool, that having the liberty to keep

what he has, shall be so unwise as to lose it.  Let us be wise as

serpents.  It is best to make hay while the sun shines.  You see how the

bee lieth still in winter, and bestirs her only when she can have profit

with pleasure.  God sends sometimes rain, and sometimes sunshine: if

they be such fools to go through the first, yet let us be content to

take fair weather along with us.  For my part, I like that religion best

that will stand with the security of God's good blessings unto us; for

who can imagine, that is ruled by his reason, since God has bestowed

upon us the good things of this life, but that he would have us keep

them for his sake?  Abraham and Solomon grew rich in religion; and Job

says, that a good man shall lay up gold as dust; but he must not be such

as the men before us, if they be as you have described them.

SAVE. I think that we are all agreed in this matter; and therefore there

needs no more words about it.

MONEY. No, there needs no more words about this matter, indeed; for he

that believes neither Scripture nor reason, (and you see we have both on

our side,) neither knows his own liberty nor seeks his own safety.

BY. My brethren, we are, as you see, going all on pilgrimage; and for

our better diversion from things that are bad, give me leave to propound

unto you this question.

Suppose a man, a minister, or a tradesman, etc., should have an

advantage lie before him to get the good blessings of this life, yet so

as that he can by no means come by them, except, in appearance at least,

he becomes extraordinary zealous in some points of religion that he

meddled not with before; may he not use this means to attain his end,

and yet be a right honest man?

MONEY. I see the bottom of your question; and with these gentlemen's

good leave, I will endeavor to shape you an answer.  And first, to speak

to your question as it concerneth a minister himself: suppose a

minister, a worthy man, possessed but of a very small benefice, and has

in his eye a greater, more fat and plump by far; he has also now an

opportunity of getting it, yet so as by being more studious, by

preaching more frequently and zealously, and, because the temper of the

people requires it, by altering of some of his principles; for my part,

I see no reason why a man may not do this, provided he has a call, aye,

and more a great deal besides, and yet be an honest man.  For why?

1.  His desire of a greater benefice is lawful, (this cannot be

contradicted,) since it is set before him by Providence; so then he may

get it if he can, making no question for conscience' sake.

2.  Besides, his desire after that benefice makes him more studious, a

more zealous preacher, etc., and so makes him a better man, yea, makes

him better improve his parts, which is according to the mind of God.

3.  Now, as for his complying with the temper of his people, by

deserting, to serve them, some of his principles, this argueth, 1.  That

he is of a self-denying temper.  2.  Of a sweet and winning deportment.

And, 3.  So more fit for the ministerial function.

4.  I conclude, then, that a minister that changes a small for a great,

should not, for so doing, be judged as covetous; but rather, since he is

improved in his parts and industry thereby, be counted as one that

pursues his call, and the opportunity put into his hand to do good.

And now to the second part of the question, which concerns the tradesman

you mentioned.  Suppose such an one to have but a poor employ in the

world, but by becoming religious he may mend his market, perhaps get a

rich wife, or more and far better customers to his shop; for my part, I

see no reason but this may be lawfully done.  For why?

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

so.

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

3.  Besides, the man that gets these by becoming religious, gets that

which is good of them that are good, by becoming good himself; so then

here is a good wife, and good customers, and good gain, and all these by

becoming religious, which is good: therefore, to become religious to get

all these is a good and profitable design.

This answer, thus made by Mr.  Money-love to Mr.  By-ends' question, was

highly applauded by them all; wherefore they concluded, upon the whole,

that it was most wholesome and advantageous.  And because, as they

thought, no man was able to contradict it; and because Christian and

Hopeful were yet within call, they jointly agreed to assault them with

the question as soon as they overtook them; and the rather, because they

had opposed Mr.  By-ends before.  So they called after them, and they

stopped and stood still till they came up to them; but they concluded,

as they went, that not Mr.  By-ends, but old Mr.  Hold-the-world should

propound the question to them, because, as they supposed, their answer

to him would be without the remainder of that heat that was kindled

betwixt Mr.  By-ends and them at their parting a little before.

So they came up to each other, and after a short salutation, Mr.  Hold-

the-world propounded the question to Christian and his fellow, and then

bid them to answer if they could.

Then said Christian, Even a babe in religion may answer ten thousand

such questions.  For if it be unlawful to follow Christ for loaves, as

it is, John 6:26; how much more abominable is it to make of him and

religion a stalking-horse to get and enjoy the world!  Nor do we find

any other than heathens, hypocrites, devils, and wizards, that are of

this opinion.

1.  Heathens: for when Hamor and Shechem had a mind to the daughter and

cattle of Jacob, and saw that there was no way for them to come at them

but by being circumcised, they said to their companions, If every male

of us be circumcised, as they are circumcised, shall not their cattle,

and their substance, and every beast of theirs be ours?  Their daughters

and their cattle were that which they sought to obtain, and their

religion the stalking-horse they made use of to come at them.  Read the

whole story, Gen.  34:20-24.

2.  The hypocritical Pharisees were also of this religion: long prayers

were their pretence, but to get widows' houses was their intent; and

greater damnation was from God their judgment.  Luke 20:46,47.

3.  Judas the devil was also of this religion: he was religious for the

bag, that he might be possessed of what was put therein; but he was

lost, cast away, and the very son of perdition.

4.  Simon the wizard was of this religion too; for he would have had the

Holy Ghost, that he might have got money therewith: and his sentence

from Peter's mouth was according.  Acts 8:19-22.

5.  Neither will it go out of my mind, but that that man who takes up

religion for the world, will throw away religion for the world; for so

surely as Judas designed the world in becoming religious, so surely did

he also sell religion and his Master for the same.  To answer the

question, therefore, affirmatively, as I perceive you have done, and to

accept of, as authentic, such answer, is heathenish, hypocritical, and

devilish; and your reward will be according to your works.

Then they stood staring one upon another, but had not wherewith to

answer Christian.  Hopeful also approved of the soundness of Christian's

answer; so there was a great silence among them.  Mr.  By-ends and his

company also staggered and kept behind, that Christian and Hopeful might

outgo them.  Then said Christian to his fellow, If these men cannot

stand before the sentence of men, what will they do with the sentence of

God?  And if they are mute when dealt with by vessels of clay, what will

they do when they shall be rebuked by the flames of a devouring fire?

Then Christian and Hopeful outwent them again, and went till they came

at a delicate plain, called Ease, where they went with much content; but

that plain was but narrow, so they were quickly got over it.  Now at the

farther side of that plain was a little hill, called Lucre, and in that

hill a silver-mine, which some of them that had formerly gone that way,

because of the rarity of it, had turned aside to see; but going too near

the brim of the pit, the ground, being deceitful under them, broke, and

they were slain: some also had been maimed there, and could not, to

their dying day, be their own men again.

Then I saw in my dream, that a little off the road, over against the

silver-mine, stood Demas (gentleman-like) to call passengers to come and

see; who said to Christian and his fellow, Ho!  turn aside hither, and I

will show you a thing.

CHR. What thing so deserving as to turn us out of the way to see it?

DEMAS. Here is a silver-mine, and some digging in it for treasure; if

you will come, with a little pains you may richly provide for

yourselves.

HOPE. Then said Hopeful, let us go see.

CHR. Not I, said Christian: I have heard of this place before now, and

how many there have been slain; and besides, that treasure is a snare to

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

Then Christian called to Demas, saying, Is not the place dangerous?

Hath it not hindered many in their pilgrimage?  Hosea 9:6.

DEMAS. Not very dangerous, except to those that are careless; but withal

he blushed as he spake.

CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful, Let us not stir a step, but still

keep on our way.

HOPE. I will warrant you, when By-ends comes up, if he hath the same

invitation as we, he will turn in thither to see.

CHR. No doubt thereof, for his principles lead him that way, and a

hundred to one but he dies there.

DEMAS. Then Demas called again, saying, But will you not come over and

see?

CHR. Then Christian roundly answered, saying, Demas, thou art an enemy

to the right ways of the Lord of this way, and hast been already

condemned for thine own turning aside, by one of his Majesty's judges, 2

Tim.  4:10; and why seekest thou to bring us into the like condemnation?

Besides, if we at all turn aside, our Lord the King will certainly hear

thereof, and will there put us to shame, where we would stand with

boldness before him.

Demas cried again, that he also was one of their fraternity; and that if

they would tarry a little, he also himself would walk with them.

CHR. Then said Christian, What is thy name?  Is it not the same by which

I have called thee?

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

CHR. I know you; Gehazi was your great-grandfather, and Judas your

father, and you have trod in their steps; it is but a devilish prank

that thou usest: thy father was hanged for a traitor, and thou deservest

no better reward.  2 Kings 5:20-27; Matt.26:14,15; 27:3-5.  Assure

thyself, that when we come to the King, we will tell him of this thy

behavior.  Thus they went their way.

By this time By-ends and his companions were come again within sight,

and they at the first beck went over to Demas.  Now, whether they fell

into the pit by looking over the brink thereof, or whether they went

down to dig, or whether they were smothered in the bottom by the damps

that commonly arise, of these things I am not certain; but this I

observed, that they were never seen again in the way.  Then sang

Christian,

"By-ends and silver Demas both agree;

One calls, the other runs, that he may be

A sharer in his lucre: so these two

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

Now I saw that, just on the other side of this plain, the pilgrims came

to a place where stood an old monument, hard by the highway-side, at the

sight of which they were both concerned, because of the strangeness of

the form thereof; for it seemed to them as if it had been a woman

transformed into the shape of a pillar.  Here, therefore, they stood

looking and looking upon it, but could not for a time tell what they

should make thereof.  At last Hopeful espied, written above upon the

head thereof, a writing in an unusual hand; but he being no scholar,

called to Christian (for he was learned) to see if he could pick out the

meaning: so he came, and after a little laying of letters together, he

found the same to be this, "Remember Lot's wife."  So he read it to his

fellow; after which they both concluded that that was the pillar of salt

into which Lot's wife was turned, for her looking back with a covetous

heart when she was going from Sodom for safety.  Gen.  19:26.  Which

sudden and amazing sight gave them occasion for this discourse.

CHR. Ah, my brother, this is a seasonable sight: it came opportunely to

us after the invitation which Demas gave us to come over to view the

hill Lucre; and had we gone over, as he desired us, and as thou wast

inclined to do, my brother, we had, for aught I know, been made, like

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

HOPE. I am sorry that I was so foolish, and am made to wonder that I am

not now as Lot's wife; for wherein was the difference betwixt her sin

and mine?  She only looked back, and I had a desire to go see.  Let

grace be adored; and let me be ashamed that ever such a thing should be

in mine heart.

CHR. Let us take notice of what we see here, for our help from time to

come.  This woman escaped one judgment, for she fell not by the

destruction of Sodom; yet she was destroyed by another, as we see: she

is turned into a pillar of salt.

HOPE. True, and she may be to us both caution and example; caution, that

we should shun her sin; or a sign of what judgment will overtake such as

shall not be prevented by this caution: so Korah, Dathan, and Abiram,

with the two hundred and fifty

men that perished in their sin, did also become a sign or example to

others to beware.  Numb.  16:31,32; 26:9,10.  But above all, I muse at

one thing, to wit, how Demas and his fellows can stand so confidently

yonder to look for that treasure, which this woman but for looking

behind her after, (for we read not that she stepped one foot out of the

way,) was turned into a pillar of salt; especially since the judgment

which overtook her did make her an example within sight of where they

are; for they cannot choose but see her, did they but lift up their

eyes.

CHR. It is a thing to be wondered at, and it argueth that their hearts

are grown desperate in the case; and I cannot tell who to compare them

to so fitly, as to them that pick pockets in the presence of the judge,

or that will cut purses under the gallows.  It is said of the men of

Sodom, that they were "sinners exceedingly," because they were sinners

"before the Lord," that is, in his eyesight, and notwithstanding the

kindnesses that he had shown them; for the land of Sodom was now like

the garden of Eden as heretofore.  Gen.  13:10-13.  This, therefore,

provoked him the more to jealousy, and made their plague as hot as the

fire of the Lord out of heaven could make it.  And it is most rationally

to be concluded, that such, even such as these are, that shall sin in

the sight, yea, and that too in despite of such examples that are set

continually before them, to caution them to the contrary, must be

partakers of severest judgments.

HOPE. Doubtless thou hast said the truth; but what a mercy is it, that

neither thou, but especially I, am not made myself this example!  This

ministereth occasion to us to thank God, to fear before him, and always

to remember Lot's wife.

I saw then that they went on their way to a pleasant river, which David

the king called "the river of God;" but John, "the river of the water of

life."  Psa.  65:9; Rev.  22:1; Ezek.  47:1-9.  Now their way lay just

upon the bank of this river: here, therefore, Christian and his

companion walked with great delight; they drank also of the water of the

river, which was pleasant and enlivening to their weary spirits.

Besides, on the banks of this river, on either side, were green trees

with all manner of fruit; and the leaves they ate to prevent surfeits,

and other diseases that are incident to those that heat their blood by

travel.  On either side of the river was also a meadow, curiously

beautified with lilies; and it was green all the year long.  In this

meadow they lay down and slept, for here they might lie down safely.

Psa.  23:2; Isa.  14:30.  When they awoke they gathered again of the

fruit of the trees, and drank again of the water of the river, and then

lay down again to sleep.  Thus they did several days and nights.  Then

they sang;

"Behold ye, how these Crystal Streams do glide,

To comfort pilgrims by the highway-side.

The meadows green, besides their fragrant smell,

Yield dainties for them; And he that can tell

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

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

So when they were disposed to go on, (for they were not as yet at their

journey's end,) they ate, and drank, and departed.

Now I beheld in my dream, that they had not journeyed far, but the river

and the way for a time parted, at which they were not a little sorry;

yet they durst not go out of the way.  Now the way from the river was

rough, and their feet tender by reason of their travels; so the souls of

the pilgrims were much discouraged because of the way.  Numb.  21:4.

Wherefore, still as they went on, they wished for a better way.  Now, a

little before them, there was on the left hand of the road a meadow, and

a stile to go over into it, and that meadow is called By-path meadow.

Then said Christian to his fellow, If this meadow lieth along by our

wayside, let's go over into it.  Then he went to the stile to see, and

behold a path lay along by the way on the other side of the fence.  It

is according to my wish, said Christian; here is the easiest going;

come, good Hopeful, and let us go over.

HOPE. But how if this path should lead us out of the way?

CHR. That is not likely, said the other.  Look, doth it not go along by

the wayside?  So Hopeful, being persuaded by his fellow, went after him

over the stile.  When they were gone over, and were got into the path,

they found it very easy for their feet; and withal, they, looking before

them, espied a man walking as they did, and his name was Vain-

Confidence: so they called after him, and asked him whither that way

led.  He said, To the Celestial Gate.  Look, said Christian, did not I

tell you so?  by this you may see we are right.  So they followed, and

he went before them.  But behold the night came on, and it grew very

dark; so that they that went behind lost the sight of him that went

before.

He therefore that went before, (Vain-Confidence by name,) not seeing the

way before him, fell into a deep pit, which was on purpose there made,

by the prince of those grounds, to catch vain-glorious fools withal, and

was dashed in pieces with his fall.  Isa.  9:16.

Now, Christian and his fellow heard him fall.  So they called to know

the matter, but there was none to answer, only they heard a groaning.

Then said Hopeful, Where are we now?  Then was his fellow silent, as

mistrusting that he had led him out of the way; and now it began to

rain, and thunder, and lighten in a most dreadful manner, and the water

rose amain.

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

CHR. Who could have thought that this path should have led us out of the

way?

HOPE. I was afraid on't at the very first, and therefore gave you that

gentle caution.  I would have spoke plainer, but that you are older than

I.

CHR. 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.

HOPE. Be comforted, my brother, for I forgive thee; and believe, too,

that this shall be for our good.

CHR. I am glad I have with me a merciful brother: but we must not stand

here; let us try to go back again.

HOPE. But, good brother, let me go before.

CHR. No, if you please, let me go first, that if there be any danger, I

may be first therein, because by my means we are both gone out of the

way.

HOPE. No, said Hopeful, you shall not go first, for your mind being

troubled may lead you out of the way again.  Then for their

encouragement they heard the voice of one saying, "Let thine heart be

toward the highway, even the way that thou wentest: turn again."  Jer.

31:21.  But by this time the waters were greatly risen, by reason of

which the way of going back was very dangerous.  (Then I thought that it

is easier going out of the way when we are in, than going in when we are

out.)  Yet they adventured to go back; but it was so dark, and the flood

was so high, that in their going back they had like to have been drowned

nine or ten times.

Neither could they, with all the skill they had, get again to the stile

that night.  Wherefore at last, lighting under a little shelter, they

sat down there till the day brake; but being weary, they fell asleep.

Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a castle, called

Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant Despair, and it was in his

grounds they now were sleeping: wherefore he, getting up in the morning

early, and walking up and down in his fields, caught Christian and

Hopeful asleep in his grounds.  Then with a grim and surly voice, he bid

them awake, and asked them whence they were, and what they did in his

grounds.  They told him they were pilgrims, and that they had lost their

way.  Then said the giant, You have this night trespassed on me by

trampling in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along

with me.  So they were forced to go, because he was stronger than they.

They also had but little to say, for they knew themselves in a fault.

The giant, therefore, drove them before him, and put them into his

castle, into a very dark dungeon, nasty and stinking to the spirits of

these two men.  Here, then, they lay from Wednesday morning till

Saturday night, without one bit of bread, or drop of drink, or light, or

any to ask how they did; they were, therefore, here in evil case, and

were far from friends and acquaintance.  Psa.  88:18.  Now in this place

Christian had double sorrow, because it was through his unadvised

counsel that they were brought into this distress.

Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name was Diffidence: so when he

was gone to bed he told his wife what he had done, to wit, that he had

taken a couple of prisoners, and cast them into his dungeon for

trespassing on his grounds.  Then he asked her also what he had best do

further to them.  So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and

whither they were bound, and he told her.  Then she counseled him, that

when he arose in the morning he should beat them without mercy.  So when

he arose, he getteth him a grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into

the dungeon to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they

were dogs, although they gave him never a word of distaste.  Then he

falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such sort that they were

not able to help themselves, or to turn them upon the floor.  This done,

he withdraws and leaves them there to condole their misery, and to mourn

under their distress: so all that day they spent the time in nothing but

sighs and bitter lamentations.  The next night, she, talking with her

husband further about them, and understanding that they were yet alive,

did advise him to counsel them to make away with themselves.  So when

morning was come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, and

perceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given them

the day before, he told them, that since they were never like to come

out of that place, their only way would be forthwith to make an end of

themselves, either with knife, halter, or poison; for why, said he,

should you choose to live, seeing it is attended with so much

bitterness?  But they desired him to let them go.  With that he looked

ugly upon them, and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of them

himself, but that he fell into one of his fits, (for he sometimes in

sunshiny weather fell into fits,) and lost for a time the use of his

hands; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as before to consider what

to do.  Then did the prisoners consult between themselves whether it was

best to take his counsel or no; and thus they began to discourse:

CHR. Brother, said Christian, what shall we do?  The life that we now

live is miserable.  For my part, I know not whether it is best to live

thus, or to die out of hand.  My soul chooseth strangling rather than

life, and the grave is more easy for me than this dungeon.  Job.  7:15.

Shall we be ruled by the giant?

HOPE. Indeed our present condition is dreadful, and death would be far

more welcome to me than thus for ever to abide; but yet, let us

consider, the Lord of the country to which we are going hath said, "Thou

shalt do no murder," no, not to another man's person; much more, then,

are we forbidden to take his counsel to kill ourselves.  Besides, he

that kills another, can but commit murder upon his body; but for one to

kill himself, is to kill body and soul at once.  And moreover, my

brother, thou talkest of ease in the grave; but hast thou forgotten the

hell whither for certain the murderers go?  for "no murderer hath

eternal life," etc.  And let us consider again, that all the law is not

in the hand of Giant Despair: others, so far as I can understand, have

been taken by him as well as we, and yet have escaped out of his hands.

Who knows but that God, who made the world, may cause that Giant Despair

may die; or that, at some time or other, he may forget to lock us in; or

that he may, in a short time, have another of his fits before us, and

may lose the use of his limbs?  And if ever that should come to pass

again, for my part, I am resolved to pluck up the heart of a man, and to

try my utmost to get from under his hand.  I was a fool that I did not

try to do it before.  But, however, my brother, let us be patient, and

endure a while: the time may come that may give us a happy release; but

let us not be our own murderers.  With these words Hopeful at present

did moderate the mind of his brother; so they continued together in the

dark that day, in their sad and doleful condition.

Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dungeon again, to see

if his prisoners had taken his counsel.  But when he came there he found

them alive; and truly, alive was all; for now, what for want of bread

and water, and by reason of the wounds they received when he beat them,

they could do little but breathe.  But I say, he found them alive; at

which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them, that seeing they had

disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse with them than if they had

never been born.

At this they trembled greatly, and I think that Christian fell into a

swoon; but coming a little to himself again, they renewed their

discourse about the giant's counsel, and whether yet they had best take

it or no.  Now Christian again seemed for doing it; but Hopeful made his

second reply as followeth:

HOPE. My brother, said he, rememberest thou not how valiant thou hast

been heretofore?  Apollyon could not crush thee, nor could all that thou

didst hear, or see, or feel, in the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  What

hardship, terror, and amazement hast thou already gone through; and art

thou now nothing but fears!  Thou seest that I am in the dungeon with

thee, a far weaker man by nature than thou art.  Also this giant hath

wounded me as well as thee, and hath also cut off the bread and water

from my mouth, and with thee I mourn without the light.  But let us

exercise a little more patience.  Remember how thou playedst the man at

Vanity Fair, and wast neither afraid of the chain nor cage, nor yet of

bloody death: wherefore let us (at least to avoid the shame that it

becomes not a Christian to be found in) bear up with patience as well as

we can.

Now night being come again, and the giant and his wife being in bed, she

asked him concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel:

to which he replied, They are sturdy rogues; they choose rather to bear

all hardships than to make away with themselves.  Then said she, Take

them into the castle-yard to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls

of those that thou hast already dispatched, and make them believe, ere a

week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as thou hast done

their fellows before them.

So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them again, and takes

them into the castle-yard, and shows them as his wife had bidden him.

These, said he, were pilgrims, as you are, once, and they trespassed on

my grounds, as you have done; and when I thought fit I tore them in

pieces; and so within ten days I will do you: get you down to your den

again.  And with that he beat them all the way thither.  They lay,

therefore, all day on Saturday in a lamentable case, as before.  Now,

when night was come, and when Mrs.  Diffidence and her husband the giant

was got to bed, they began to renew their discourse of their prisoners;

and withal, the old giant wondered that he could neither by his blows

nor counsel bring them to an end.  And with that his wife replied, I

fear, said she, that they live in hopes that some will come to relieve

them; or that they have picklocks about them, by the means of which they

hope to escape.  And sayest thou so, my dear?  said the giant; I will

therefore search them in the morning.

Well, on Saturday, about midnight they began to pray, and continued in

prayer till almost break of day.

Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half amazed,

brake out into this passionate speech: What a fool, quoth he, am I, thus

to lie in a stinking dungeon, when I may as well walk at liberty!  I

have a key in my bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open

any lock in Doubting Castle.  Then said Hopeful, That is good news; good

brother, pluck it out of thy bosom, and try.

Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to try at the

dungeon-door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, gave back, and the door

flew open with ease, and Christian and Hopeful both came out.  Then he

went to the outward door that leads into the castle-yard, and with his

key opened that door also.  After he went to the iron gate, for that

must be opened too; but that lock went desperately hard, yet the key did

open it.  They then thrust open the gate to make their escape with

speed; but that gate, as it opened, made such a creaking, that it waked

Giant Despair, who hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his

limbs to fail, for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means

go after them.  Then they went on, and came to the King's highway, and

so were safe, because they were out of his jurisdiction.

Now, when they were gone over the stile, they began to contrive with

themselves what they should do at that stile, to prevent those that

shall come after from falling into the hands of Giant Despair.  So they

consented to erect there a pillar, and to engrave upon the side thereof

this sentence: "Over this stile is the way to Doubting Castle, which is

kept by Giant Despair, who despiseth the King of' the Celestial country,

and seeks to destroy his holy pilgrims."  Many, therefore, that followed

after, read what was written, and escaped the danger.  This done, they

sang as follows:

"Out of the way we went, and then we found

What 'twas to tread upon forbidden ground:

And let them that come after have a care,

Lest heedlessness makes them as we to fare;

Lest they, for trespassing, his prisoners are,

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

THE EIGHTH STAGE.

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

mountains belong to the Lord of that hill of which we have spoken

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

orchards, the vineyards and fountains of water; where also they drank

and washed themselves, and did freely eat of the vineyards.  Now, there

were on the tops of these mountains shepherds feeding their flocks, and

they stood by the highway-side.  The pilgrims, therefore, went to them,

and leaning upon their staffs, (as is common with weary pilgrims when

they stand to talk with any by the way,) they asked, Whose Delectable

Mountains are these; and whose be the sheep that feed upon them?

SHEP. These mountains are Emmanuel's land, and they are within sight of

his city; and the sheep also are his, and he laid down his life for

them.  John 10:11,15.

CHR. Is this the way to the Celestial City?

SHEP. You are just in your way.

CHR. How far is it thither?

SHEP. Too far for any but those who shall get thither indeed.

CHR. Is the way safe or dangerous?

SHEP. Safe for those for whom it is to be safe; but transgressors shall

fall therein.  Hos.  14:9.

CHR. Is there in this place any relief for pilgrims that are weary and

faint in the way?

SHEP. The Lord of these mountains hath given us a charge not to be

forgetful to entertain strangers, Heb.  13:2; therefore the good of the

place is before you .

I saw also in my dream, that when the shepherds perceived that they were

wayfaring men, they also put questions to them, (to which they made

answer as in other places,) as, Whence came you?  and, How got you into

the way?  and, By what means have you so persevered therein?  for but

few of them that begin to come hither, do show their face on these

mountains.  But when the shepherds heard their answers, being pleased

therewith, they looked very lovingly upon them, and said, Welcome to the

Delectable Mountains.

The shepherds, I say, whose names were Knowledge, Experience, Watchful,

and Sincere, took them by the hand, and had them to their tents, and

made them partake of that which was ready at present.  They said

moreover, We would that you should stay here a while, to be acquainted

with us, and yet more to solace yourselves with the good of these

Delectable Mountains.  Then they told them that they were content to

stay.  So they went to their rest that night, because it was very late.

Then I saw in my dream, that in the morning the shepherds called up

Christian and Hopeful to walk with them upon the mountains.  So they

went forth with them, and walked a while, having a pleasant prospect on

every side.  Then said the shepherds one to another, Shall we show these

pilgrims some wonders?  So when they had concluded to do it, they had

them first to the top of a hill called Error, which was very steep on

the farthest side, and bid them look down to the bottom.  So Christian

and Hopeful looked down, and saw at the bottom several men dashed all to

pieces by a fall that they had had from the top.  Then said Christian,

What meaneth this?  The shepherds answered, Have you not heard of them

that were made to err, by hearkening to Hymenius and Philetus, as

concerning the faith of the resurrection of the body?  2 Tim.  2:17,18.

They answered, Yes.  Then said the shepherds, Those that you see lie

dashed in pieces at the bottom of this mountain are they; and they have

continued to this day unburied, as you see, for an example to others to

take heed how they clamber too high, or how they come too near the brink

of this mountain.

Then I saw that they had them to the top of another mountain, and the

name of that is Caution, and bid them look afar off; which, when they

did, they perceived, as they thought, several men walking up and down

among the tombs that were there; and they perceived that the men were

blind, because they stumbled sometimes upon the tombs, and because they

could not get out from among them.  Then said Christian, What means

this?

The shepherds then answered, Did you not see, a little below these

mountains, a stile that led into a meadow, on the left hand of this way?

They answered, Yes.  Then said the shepherds, From that stile there goes

a path that leads directly to Doubting Castle, which is kept by Giant

Despair; and these men (pointing to them among the tombs) came once on

pilgrimage, as you do now, even until they came to that same stile.  And

because the right way was rough in that place, they chose to go out of

it into that meadow, and there were taken by Giant Despair, and cast

into Doubting Castle; where after they had a while been kept in the

dungeon, he at last did put out their eyes, and led them among those

tombs, where he has left them to wander to this very day, that the

saying of the wise man might be fulfilled, "He that wandereth out of the

way of understanding shall remain in the congregation of the dead."

Prov.  21:16.  Then Christian and Hopeful looked upon one another, with

tears gushing out, but yet said nothing to the shepherds.

Then I saw in my dream, that the shepherds had them to another place in

a bottom, where was a door on the side of a hill; and they opened the

door, and bid them look in.  They looked in, therefore, and saw that

within it was very dark and smoky; they also thought that they heard

there a rumbling noise, as of fire, and a cry of some tormented, and

that they smelt the scent of brimstone.  Then said Christian, What means

this?  The shepherds told them, This is a by-way to hell, a way that

hypocrites go in at; namely, such as sell their birthright, with Esau;

such as sell their Master, with Judas; such as blaspheme the Gospel,

with Alexander; and that lie and dissemble, with Ananias and Sapphira

his wife.

Then said Hopeful to the shepherds, I perceive that these had on them,

even every one, a show of pilgrimage, as we have now; had they not?

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

HOPE. How far might they go on in pilgrimage in their day, since they,

notwithstanding, were miserably cast away?

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

Then said the pilgrims one to the other, We had need to cry to the

Strong for strength.

SHEP. Aye, and you will have need to use it, when you have it, too.

By this time the pilgrims had a desire to go forward, and the shepherds

a desire they should; so they walked together towards the end of the

mountains.  Then said the shepherds one to another, Let us here show the

pilgrims the gates of the Celestial City, if they have skill to look

through our perspective glass.  The pilgrims lovingly accepted the

motion: so they had them to the top of a high hill, called Clear, and

gave them the glass to look.

Then they tried to look; but the remembrance of that last thing that the

shepherds had shown them made their hands shake, by means of which

impediment they could not look steadily through the glass; yet they

thought they saw something like the gate, and also some of the glory of

the place.  Then they went away, and sang,

"Thus by the shepherds secrets are reveal'd,

Which from all other men are kept concealed:

Come to the shepherds then, if you would see

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

When they were about to depart, one of the shepherds gave them a note of

the way.  Another of them bid them beware of the Flatterer.  The third

bid them take heed that they slept not upon Enchanted Ground.  And the

fourth bid them God speed.  So I awoke from my dream.

THE NINTH STAGE.

And I slept, and dreamed again, and saw the same two pilgrims going down

the mountains along the highway towards the city.  Now, a little below

these mountains, on the left hand, lieth the country of Conceit, from

which country there comes into the way in which the pilgrims walked, a

little crooked lane.  Here, therefore, they met with a very brisk lad

that came out of that country, and his name was Ignorance.  So Christian

asked him from what parts he came, and whither he was going.

IGNOR. Sir, I was born in the country that lieth off there, a little on

the left hand, and I am going to the Celestial City.

CHR. But how do you think to get in at the gate, for you may find some

difficulty there?

IGNOR. As other good people do, said he.

CHR. But what have you to show at that gate, that the gate should be

opened to you?

IGNOR. I know my Lord's will, and have been a good liver; I pay every

man his own; I pray, fast, pay tithes, and give alms, and have left my

country for whither I am going.

CHR. But thou camest not in at the wicket-gate, that is at the head of

this way; thou camest in hither through that same crooked lane, and

therefore I fear, however thou mayest think of thyself, when the

reckoning-day shall come, thou wilt have laid to thy charge, that thou

art a thief and a robber, instead of getting admittance into the city.

IGNOR. Gentlemen, ye be utter strangers to me; I know you not: be

content to follow the religion of your country, and I will follow the

religion of mine.  I hope all will be well.  And as for the gate that

you talk of, all the world knows that is a great way off of our country.

I cannot think that any man in all our parts doth so much as know the

way to it; nor need they matter whether they do or no, since we have, as

you see, a fine, pleasant, green lane, that comes down from our country,

the next way into the way.

When Christian saw that the man was wise in his own conceit, he said to

Hopeful whisperingly, "There is more hope of a fool than of him."  Prov.

26:12.  And said, moreover, "When he that is a fool walketh by the way,

his wisdom faileth him, and he saith to every one that he is a fool.

Eccles.  10:3.  What, shall we talk farther with him, or outgo him at

present, and so leave him to think of what he hath heard already, and

then stop again for him afterwards, and see if by degrees we can do any

good to him?  Then said Hopeful,

"Let Ignorance a little while now muse

On what is said, and let him not refuse

Good counsel to embrace, lest he remain

Still ignorant of what's the chiefest gain.

God saith, those that no understanding have,

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

HOPE. He further added, It is not good, I think, to say so to him all at

once; let us pass him by, if you will, and talk to him anon, even as he

is able to bear it.

So they both went on, and Ignorance he came after.  Now, when they had

passed him a little way, they entered into a very dark lane, where they

met a man whom seven devils had bound with seven strong cords, and were

carrying him back to the door that they saw on the side of the hill.

Matt.  12:45; Prov.  5:22.  Now good Christian began to tremble, and so

did Hopeful, his companion; yet, as the devils led away the man,

Christian looked to see if he knew him; and he thought it might be one

Turn-away, that dwelt in the town of Apostacy.  But he did not perfectly

see his face, for he did hang his head like a thief that is found; but

being gone past, Hopeful looked after him, and espied on his back a

paper with this inscription, "Wanton professor, and damnable apostate."

Then said Christian to his fellow, Now I call to remembrance that which

was told me of a thing that happened to a good man hereabout.  The name

of the man was Little-Faith; but a good man, and he dwelt in the town of

Sincere.  The thing was this.  At the entering in at this passage, there

comes down from Broadway-gate, a lane, called Dead-Man's lane; so called

because of the murders that are commonly done there; and this Little-

Faith going on pilgrimage, as we do now, chanced to sit down there and

sleep.  Now there happened at that time to come down the lane from

Broadway-gate, three sturdy rogues, and their names were Faint-Heart,

Mistrust, and Guilt, three brothers; and they, espying Little-Faith

where he was, came galloping up with speed.  Now the good man was just

awaked from his sleep, and was getting up to go on his journey.  So they

came up all to him, and with threatening language bid him stand.  At

this, Little-Faith looked as white as a sheet, and had neither power to

fight nor fly.  Then said Faint-Heart, Deliver thy purse; but he making

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

to him, and thrusting his hand into his pocket, pulled out thence a bag

of silver.  Then he cried out, Thieves, thieves!  With that, Guilt, with

a great club that was in his hand, struck Little-Faith on the head, and

with that blow felled him flat to the ground, where he lay bleeding as

one that would bleed to death.  All this while the thieves stood by.

But at last, they hearing that some were upon the road, and fearing lest

it should be one Great-Grace, that dwells in the town of Good-

Confidence, they betook themselves to their heels, and left this good

man to shift for himself.  Now, after a while, Little-Faith came to

himself, and getting up, made shift to scramble on his way.  This was

the story.

HOPE. But did they take from him all that ever he had?

CHR. No; the place where his jewels were they never ransacked; so those

he kept still.  But, as I was told, the good man was much afflicted for

his loss; for the thieves got most of his spending-money.  That which

they got not, as I said, were jewels; also, he had a little odd money

left, but scarce enough to bring him to his journey's end.  Nay, (if I

was not misinformed,) he was forced to beg as he went, to keep himself

alive, for his jewels he might not sell; but beg and do what he could,

he went, as we say, with many a hungry belly the most part of the rest

of the way.  1 Pet.  4:18.

HOPE. But is it not a wonder they got not from him his certificate, by

which he was to receive his admittance at the Celestial Gate?

CHR. It is a wonder; but they got not that, though they missed it not

through any good cunning of his; for he, being dismayed by their coming

upon him, had neither power nor skill to hide any thing; so it was more

by good providence than by his endeavor that they missed of that good

thing.  2 Tim.  1:12-14; 2 Pet.  2:9.

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

him.

CHR. It might have been great comfort to him, had he used it as he

should; but they that told me the story said that he made but little use

of it all the rest of the way, and that because of the dismay that he

had in their taking away his money.  Indeed, he forgot it a great part

of the rest of his journey; and besides, when at any time it came into

his mind, and he began to be comforted therewith, then would fresh

thoughts of his loss come again upon him, and these thoughts would

swallow up all.

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

CHR. Grief?  Aye, a grief indeed!  Would it not have been so to any of

us, had we been used as he, to be robbed and wounded too, and that in a

strange place, as he was?  It is a wonder he did not die with grief,

poor heart.  I was told that he scattered almost all the rest of the way

with nothing but doleful and bitter complaints; telling, also, to all

that overtook him, or that he overtook in the way as he went, where he

was robbed, and how; who they were that did it, and what he had lost;

how he was wounded, and that he hardly escaped with life.

HOPE. But it is a wonder that his necessity did not put him upon selling

or pawning some of his jewels, that he might have wherewith to relieve

himself in his journey.

CHR. Thou talkest like one upon whose head is the shell to this very

day.  For what should he pawn them?  or to whom should he sell them?  In

all that country where he was robbed, his jewels were not accounted of;

nor did he want that relief which could from thence be administered to

him.  Besides, had his jewels been missing at the gate of the Celestial

City, he had (and that he knew well enough) been excluded from an

inheritance there, and that would have been worse to him than the

appearance and villany of ten thousand thieves.

HOPE. Why art thou so tart, my brother?  Esau sold his birthright, and

that for a mess of pottage, Heb.  12:16; and that birthright was his

greatest jewel: and if he, why might not Little-Faith do so too?

CHR. Esau did sell his birthright indeed, and so do many besides, and by

so doing exclude themselves from the chief blessing, as also that

caitiff did; but you must put a difference betwixt Esau and Little-

Faith, and also betwixt their estates.  Esau's birthright was typical;

but Little-Faith's jewels were not so.  Esau's belly was his god; but

Little-Faith's belly was not so.  Esau's want lay in his fleshy

appetite; Little-Faith's did not so.  Besides, Esau could see no further

than to the fulfilling of his lusts: For I am at the point to die, said

he: and what good will this birthright do me?  Gen.  25:32.  But Little-

Faith, though it was his lot to have but a little faith, was by his

little faith kept from such extravagances, and made to see and prize his

jewels more than to sell them, as Esau did his birthright.  You read not

any where that Esau had faith, no, not so much as a little; therefore no

marvel, where the flesh only bears sway, (as it will in that man where

no faith is to resist,) if he sells his birthright and his soul and all,

and that to the devil of hell; for it is with such as it is with the

ass, who in her occasion cannot be turned away, Jer.  2:24: when their

minds are set upon their lusts, they will have them, whatever they cost.

But Little-Faith was of another temper; his mind was on things divine;

his livelihood was upon things that were spiritual, and from above:

therefore, to what end should he that is of such a temper sell his

jewels (had there been any that would have bought them) to fill his mind

with empty things?  Will a man give a penny to fill his belly with hay?

or can you persuade the turtle-dove to live upon carrion, like the crow?

Though faithless ones can, for carnal lusts, pawn, or mortgage, or sell

what they have, and themselves outright to boot; yet they that have

faith, saving faith, though but a little of it, cannot do so.  Here,

therefore, my brother, is thy mistake.

HOPE. I acknowledge it; but yet your severe reflection had almost made

me angry.

CHR. Why, I did but compare thee to some of the birds that are of the

brisker sort, who will run to and fro in untrodden paths with the shell

upon their heads: but pass by that, and consider the matter under

debate, and all shall be well betwixt thee and me.

HOPE. But, Christian, these three fellows, I am persuaded in my heart,

are but a company of cowards: would they have run else, think you, as

they did, at the noise of one that was coming on the road?  Why did not

Little-Faith pluck up a greater heart?  He might, methinks, have stood

one brush with them, and have yielded when there had been no remedy.

CHR. That they are cowards, many have said, but few have found it so in

the time of trial.  As for a great heart, Little-Faith had none; and I

perceive by thee, my brother, hadst thou been the man concerned, thou

art but for a brush, and then to yield.  And verily, since this is the

height of thy stomach now they are at a distance from us, should they

appear to thee as they did to him, they might put thee to second

thoughts.

But consider again, that they are but journeymen thieves; They serve

under the king of the bottomless pit, who, if need be, will come to

their aid himself, and his voice is as the roaring of a lion.  1 Pet.

5:8.  I myself have been engaged as this Little-Faith was, and I found

it a terrible thing.  These three villains set upon me, and I beginning

like a Christian to resist, they gave but a call, and in came their

master.  I would, as the saying is, have given my life for a penny, but

that, as God would have it, I was clothed with armor of proof.  Aye, and

yet, though I was so harnessed, I found it hard work to quit myself like

a man: no man can tell what in that combat attends us, but he that hath

been in the battle himself.

HOPE. Well, but they ran, you see, when they did but suppose that one

Great-Grace was in the way.

CHR. True, they have often fled, both they and their master, when Great-

Grace hath but appeared; and no marvel, for he is the King's champion.

But I trow you will put some difference between Little-Faith and the

King's champion.  All the King's subjects are not his champions; nor can

they, when tried, do such feats of war as he.  Is it meet to think that

a little child should handle Goliath as David did?  or that there should

be the strength of an ox in a wren?  Some are strong, some are weak;

some have great faith, some have little: this man was one of the weak,

and therefore he went to the wall.

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

CHR. If it had been he, he might have had his hands full: for I must

tell you, that though Great-Grace is excellent good at his weapons, and

has, and can, so long as he keeps them at sword's point, do well enough

with them; yet if they get within him, even Faint-Heart, Mistrust, or

the other, it shall go hard but they will throw up his heels.  And when

a man is down, you know, what can he do?

Whoso looks well upon Great-Grace's face, will see those scars and cuts

there that shall easily give demonstration of what I say.  Yea, once I

heard that he should say, (and that when he was in the combat,) We

despaired even of life.  How did these sturdy rogues and their fellows

make David groan, mourn, and roar!  Yea, Heman, Psa.  88, and Hezekiah

too, though champions in their days, were forced to bestir them when by

these assaulted; and yet, notwithstanding, they had their coats soundly

brushed by them.  Peter, upon a time, would go try what he could do; but

though some do say of him that he is the prince of the apostles, they

handled him so that they made him at last afraid of a sorry girl.

Besides, their king is at their whistle; he is never out of hearing; and

if at any time they be put to the worst, he, if possible, comes in to

help them; and of him it is said, "The sword of him that layeth at him

cannot hold; the spear, the dart, nor the habergeon.  He esteemeth iron

as straw, and brass as rotten wood.  The arrow cannot make him fly;

sling-stones are turned with him into stubble.  Darts are counted as

stubble; he laugheth at the shaking of a spear."  Job 41:26-29.  What

can a man do in this case?  It is true, if a man could at every turn

have Job's horse, and had skill and courage to ride him, he might do

notable things.  "For his neck is clothed with thunder.  He will not be

afraid as a grasshopper: the glory of his nostrils is terrible.  He

paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength; he goeth on to meet

the armed men.  He mocketh at fear, and is not affrighted; neither

turneth he back from the sword.  The quiver rattleth against him, the

glittering spear and the shield.  He swalloweth the ground with

fierceness and rage; neither believeth he that it is the sound of the

trumpet.  He saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha!  and he smelleth the

battle afar off, the thunder of the captains, and the shoutings."  Job

39:19-25.

But for such footmen as thee and I are, let us never desire to meet with

an enemy, nor vaunt as if we could do better, when we hear of others

that have been foiled, nor be tickled at the thoughts of our own

manhood; for such commonly come by the worst when tried.  Witness Peter,

of whom I made mention before: he would swagger, aye, he would; he

would, as his vain mind prompted him to say, do better and stand more

for his Master than all men: but who so foiled and run down by those

villains as he?

When, therefore, we hear that such robberies are done on the King's

highway, two things become us to do.

1.  To go out harnessed, and be sure to take a shield with us: for it

was for want of that, that he who laid so lustily at Leviathan could not

make him yield; for, indeed, if that be wanting, he fears us not at all.

Therefore, he that had skill hath said, "Above all, take the shield of

faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the

wicked."  Eph.  6:16.

2.  It is good, also, that we desire of the King a convoy, yea, that he

will go with us himself.  This made David rejoice when in the Valley of

the Shadow of Death; and Moses was rather for dying where he stood, than

to go one step without his God.  Exod.  33:15.

O, my brother, if he will but go along with us, what need we be afraid

of ten thousands that shall set themselves against us?  Psa.  3:5-8;

27:1-3.  But without him, the proud helpers fall under the slain.  Isa.

10:4.

I, for my part, have been in the fray before now; and though (through

the goodness of Him that is best) I am, as you see, alive, yet I cannot

boast of any manhood.  Glad shall I be if I meet with no more such

brunts; though I fear we are not got beyond all danger.  However, since

the lion and the bear have not as yet devoured me, I hope God will also

deliver us from the next uncircumcised Philistine.  Then sang Christian,

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

Wast robb'd?  Remember this, whoso believes,

And get more faith; then shall you victors be

Over ten thousand-else scarce over three."

So they went on, and Ignorance followed.  They went then till they came

at a place where they saw a way put itself into their way, and seemed

withal to lie as strait as the way which they should go; and here they

knew not which of the two to take, for both seemed strait before them:

therefore here they stood still to consider.  And as they were thinking

about the way, behold a man black of flesh, but covered with a very

light robe, come to them, and asked them why they stood there.  They

answered, they were going to the Celestial City, but knew not which of

these ways to take.  "Follow me," said the man, "it is thither that I am

going."  So they followed him in the way that but now came into the

road, which by degrees turned, and turned them so far from the city that

they desired to go to, that in a little time their faces were turned

away from it; yet they follow him.  But by and by, before they were

aware, he led them both within the compass of a net, in which they were

both so entangled that they knew not what to do; and with that the white

robe fell off the black man's back.  Then they saw where they were.

Wherefore there they lay crying some time, for they could not get

themselves out.

CHR. Then said Christian to his fellow, Now do I see myself in an error.

Did not the shepherds bid us beware of the Flatterer?  As is the saying

of the wise man, so we have found it this day: "A man that flattereth

his neighbor, spreadeth a net for his feet."  Prov.  29:5.

HOPE. They also gave us a note of directions about the way, for our more

sure finding thereof; but therein we have also forgotten to read, and

have not kept ourselves from the paths of the destroyer.  Here David was

wiser than we; for saith he, "Concerning the works of men, by the word

of thy lips I have kept me from the paths of the Destroyer."  Psa.

17:4.  Thus they lay bewailing themselves in the net.  At last they

espied a Shining One coming towards them with a whip of small cords in

his hand.  When he was come to the place where they were, he asked them

whence they came, and what they did there.  They told him that they were

poor pilgrims going to Zion, but were led out of their way by a black

man clothed in white, who bid us, said they, follow him, for he was

going thither too.  Then said he with the whip, It is Flatterer, a false

apostle, that hath transformed himself into an angel of light.  Dan.

11:32; 2 Cor.  11:13,14.  So he rent the net, and let the men out.  Then

said he to them, Follow me, that I may set you in your way again.  So he

led them back to the way which they had left to follow the Flatterer.

Then he asked them, saying, Where did you lie the last night?  They

said, With the shepherds upon the Delectable Mountains.  He asked them

then if they had not of the shepherds a note of direction for the way.

They answered, Yes.  But did you not, said he, when you were at a stand,

pluck out and read your note?  They answered, No.  He asked them, Why?

They said they forgot.  He asked, moreover, if the shepherds did not bid

them beware of the Flatterer.  They answered, Yes; but we did not

imagine, said they, that this fine-spoken man had been he.  Rom.

16:17,18.

Then I saw in my dream, that he commanded them to lie down; which when

they did, he chastised them sore, to teach them the good way wherein

they should walk, Deut.  25:2; 2 Chron.  6:27; and as he chastised them,

he said, "As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten; be zealous,

therefore, and repent."  Rev.  3:19.  This done, he bids them to go on

their way, and take good heed to the other directions of the shepherds.

So they thanked him for all his kindness, and went softly along the

right way, singing,

"Come hither, you that walk along the way,

See how the pilgrims fare that go astray:

They catched are in an entangling net,

Cause they good counsel lightly did forget:

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

They're scouged to boot; let this your caution be."

Now, after awhile, they perceived afar off, one coming softly, and

alone, all along the highway, to meet them.  Then said Christian to his

fellow, Yonder is a man with his back towards Zion, and he is coming to

meet us.

HOPE. I see him; let us take heed to ourselves now, lest he should prove

a Flatterer also.  So he drew nearer and nearer, and at last came up to

them.  His name was Atheist, and he asked them whither they were going.

CHR. We are going to Mount Zion.

Then Atheist fell into a very great laughter.

CHR. What's the meaning of your laughter?

ATHEIST. I laugh to see what ignorant persons you are, to take upon you

so tedious a journey, and yet are like to have nothing but your travel

for your pains.

CHR. Why, man, do you think we shall not be received?

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

this world.

CHR. But there is in the world to come.

ATHEIST. When I was at home in mine own country I heard as you now

affirm, and from that hearing went out to see, and have been seeking

this city these twenty years, but find no more of it than I did the

first day I set out.  Eccles.  10:15; Jer.  17:15.

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

found.

ATHEIST. Had not I, when at home, believed, I had not come thus far to

seek; but finding none, (and yet I should, had there been such a place

to be found, for I have gone to seek it farther than you,) I am going

back again, and will seek to refresh myself with the things that I then

cast away for hopes of that which I now see is not.

CHR. Then said Christian to Hopeful his companion, Is it true which this

man hath said?

HOPE. Take heed, he is one of the Flatterers.  Remember what it cost us

once already for our hearkening to such kind of fellows.  What!  no

Mount Zion?  Did we not see from the Delectable Mountains the gate of

the city?  Also, are we not now to walk by faith?  2 Cor.  5:7.

Let us go on, lest the man with the whip overtake us again.  You should

have taught me that lesson, which I will sound you in the ears withal:

"Cease, my son, to hear the instruction that causeth to err from the

words of knowledge."  Prov.  19:27.  I say, my brother, cease to hear

him, and let us believe to the saving of the soul.

CHR. My brother, I did not put the question to thee, for that I doubted

of the truth of our belief myself, but to prove thee, and to fetch from

thee a fruit of the honesty of thy heart.  As for this man, I know that

he is blinded by the God of this world.  Let thee and me go on, knowing

that we have belief of the truth; and no lie is of the truth.  1 John,

5:21.

HOPE. Now do I rejoice in hope of the glory of God.  So they turned away

from the man; and he, laughing at them, went his way.

I then saw in my dream, that they went on until they came into a certain

country whose air naturally tended to make one drowsy, if he came a

stranger into it.  And here Hopeful began to be very dull, and heavy to

sleep: wherefore he said unto Christian, I do now begin to grow so

drowsy that I can scarcely hold open mine eyes; let us lie down here,

and take one nap.

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

HOPE. Why, my brother?  sleep is sweet to the laboring man; we may be

refreshed, if we take a nap.

CHR. Do you not remember that one of the shepherds bid us beware of the

Enchanted Ground?  He meant by that, that we should beware of sleeping;

wherefore "let us not sleep, as do others; but let us watch and be

sober."  1 Thess.  5:6.

HOPE. I acknowledge myself in a fault; and had I been here alone, I had

by sleeping run the danger of death.  I see it is true that the wise man

saith, "Two are better than one."  Eccl.  4:9.  Hitherto hath thy

company been my mercy; and thou shalt have a good reward for thy labor.

CHR. Now, then, said Christian, to prevent drowsiness in this place, let

us fall into good discourse.

HOPE. With all my heart, said the other.

CHR. Where shall we begin?

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

CHR. I will sing you first this song:

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

And hear how these two pilgrims talk together;

Yea, let them learn of them in any wise,

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

Saints' fellowship, if it be managed well,

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

Then Christian began, and said, I will ask you a question.  How came you

to think at first of doing what you do now?

HOPE. Do you mean, how came I at first to look after the good of my

soul?

CHR. Yes, that is my meaning.

HOPE. I continued a great while in the delight of those things which

were seen and sold at our fair; things which I believe now would have,

had I continued in them still, drowned me in perdition and destruction.

CHR. What things were they?

HOPE. All the treasures and riches of the world.  Also I delighted much

in rioting, reveling, drinking, swearing, lying, uncleanness, Sabbath-

breaking, and what not, that tended to destroy the soul.  But I found at

last, by hearing and considering of things that are divine, which,

indeed, I heard of you, as also of beloved Faithful, that was put to

death for his faith and good living in Vanity Fair, that the end of

these things is death, Rom.  6:21-23; and that for these things' sake,

the wrath of God cometh upon the children of disobedience.  Eph.  5:6.

CHR. And did you presently fall under the power of this conviction?

HOPE. No, I was not willing presently to know the evil of sin, nor the

damnation that follows upon the commission of it; but endeavored, when

my mind at first began to